#and yet I still grew to like it and think it's fine

[pineappleciders]

i fear there is little way to describe my recent experience in the bathroom. or potentially, there are far too many ways to the point i cannot collect my thoughts. it started out as a simple pee. i went to the restroom quite happily, having been playing a game and believing it would be a quick, simple trip. but i was proven wrong, as i usually am. it turned out to be a poop as well. though it wasn't a bad one, it was rather small and easy to pass, and wasn't too bad of a wipe either. however, i was foolish and became distracted watching a video on my phone while wiping. this tragically led to me placing far too many pieces of toilet paper in the toilet bowl without flushing. i soon realized my mistake and, like a fool once more, decided to hope for the best and flush. however, it did not go down. it's fine, i thought. i'll wait and try again. so i did, and it did not go down. hm, this is unfortunate, i think. so i grab the plunger, blissfully unaware to the hellhole i had began falling into, believing this was just your average clog of the toilet. but it wasn't. i soon remembered a fool in my household, which i later learned was my mother, had made the conscious decision to swap the plungers in the bathrooms. this is a problem because, the one that was in my current restroom is a good plumber. the other one is not. and so, i found myself fruitlessly shmacking the hard, useless plunger into the bowl time and time again. but it was no good. i was so determined, so full of hope that it would work as i had made it work before. but this clog was different. i began to grow more desperate as my arm was quickly becoming exhausted from the strain, and i switched to 2 arms, yet there was still no luck. at this point, i had begun sweating, the reality dawning on me that this would not go the way i had hoped. i remembered a trick i learned, about putting soap and hot water into the back of the toilet seat, which helps break the clog up. so i looked around for a cup, an item usually kept in the bathroom, to scoop water from the sink to the toilet. but there was no cup. i put a few squirts of soap in the bowl and waited, but with each flush the water grew higher and higher, reflecting my nerves. but a spark of something like hope flickers in me as i spot the sink drain stick made for unclogging sinks. it's a bit gross, but i'm running out of options, so i go for it. i feel as though it's working quite well, as i can see toilet paper being ripped, but with flush and flush again, it only worsens. i have been in the restroom for far too long now, mostly waiting for water to slowly go down, and at this point i'm sure the energy drink i left on my desk has gone lukewarm. i start to full on panic now, honestly on the verge of tears. i am tired from lack of sleep, very hungry, my back is in extreme pain, and i feel disgusting as a few bits of toilet water have splashed on me. i consider asking for help from my dad, however the thought of walking downstairs with shit stuck in between my asscheeks is extremely unappealing, so i carry on. i turn on the tub and start scooping hot water into the back of the toilet. it burns my hands, and i am now getting water everywhere, but i cannot stop as i begin feeling like a wild animal. i try and try and try but all of my efforts are wasted. and i fear i knew all along what i had to do, i was simply pushing it away out of pure fear. but i suck it up and wrap a towel around my waist and leave the bathroom, still not having wiped fully, and lumber to the other bathroom to grab the good plunger. and lo and behold, with only a few pumps the water is quickly sucked down. and i would have felt immense joy, if it weren't for my extreme annoyance with myself that i did not do it sooner. i am extremely traumatized and i don't think i'll be able to look at my toilet the same way for at least a few months. my dear friends and followers, i urge you to invest in a good plunger. one for every bathroom you have. a new, soft, flaccid plunger. it will betray you less than any man.

[acerathia]

pink camellias || Chapter 7: nasturtium

Chapter Summary:

nasturtium: patriotism, conquest, victory in battle

Wordcount: 5.0k

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Pairing:

Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

Tags/CW:

royalty au, inspired by Mulan, war and its consequences, violence, childhood friends to strangers to companions to lovers (i am sorry), Angst, Acts of Service, Character Death (Major, and Minor), swordfights, misogyny, f!reader, kidnapping, implied torture, let me know if I missed anything lol

Note:

my class started late, so here

A splitting headache was the first thing you felt after waking up, followed by the dry feeling in your mouth, your tongue sticking weirdly between your teeth. You swallowed a couple of times to relieve this feeling. While repeating that action, you began to feel your body and its constitution. It seemed like you were tied to a chair, your arms flat against its arms, no movement possible, and you felt some sort of rope on each wrist and one across your upper body and arms. You assumed your ankles had been bound the same way to the legs of the chair. It didn’t feel like you had a gag or blindfold, and you also didn’t register any new injuries. At least you didn’t think so. Only after this silent check did you dare to slowly open your eyes, cracking one slightly to see if someone was present in the room.

There was someone, but you could barely see their figure without making any noticeable movements. So, your gaze wandered back to yourself, swiftly checking if all your clothes were still in their place. And you almost let a breath out when everything seemed to be fine, beside the weird tingling all over your body, but you assumed it was a side effect of whatever they gave you and the ropes cutting off your bloodstream.

Slowly, you let a finger rub against the arm of the chair, trying to see what material it was made of. Wood. Still, you could not do anything before confirming that the whole chair is actually made of wood. So, you collected yourself, trying to remember what the Captain told you what to do in such situations. And for a moment you were thankful for his training, because if he didn’t pound these plans into their heads for such a prolonged time, you already would have woken up in a fit of curses and screams, scared out of your mind. To be fair, you still were scared out of your mind, but in this version of the story you knew what you were supposed to do, and that didn’t necessarily make you calmer, but at least steadfaster.

With his instructions playing in your mind, you could almost hear the way he had explained every step with a slight annoyance tinting his voice, yet he kept repeating himself despite the so-called stupid questions. You took a breath out of your nose, cinching your brows to frown before groaning softly. Shifting in your seat, you rolled your head so it hung back. Then you made the act of slowly blinking awake, jolting your arm to rub your eyes or face, didn’t matter, really, before shuddering as your jerking grew seemingly more erratic with the second. Your head swiveled around with your eyes wide open, until you finally made eye contact with whoever had been occupying the room with you.

And this time, the shudder and the catch of breath were real as you perceived the colors of his clothes. A dark shade of blue. The color of the other side, of the enemy. You already knew that, but this was your confirmation. Your gaze traveled further, over burn-marred skin, to the hooded eyes of your enemy, of one of your captors. And at first, his eyes seemed to be lazy, all indifference, but the longer you stared into their icy depth, the more the cold ruthlessness seemed to peek through.

You swallowed. “Damn it, let me go! What is this supposed to mean?” you raised your voice, infusing it with the fear you currently were suppressing.

“No can-do, sadly. And I’m not really in the mood to answer questions, if I’m going to be honest, so…” he shrugged and leaned further into the couch, all dangling arms and lethargic movements. But you noticed the precision in every move of his.

For a moment, you bit on your tongue, ruminating on the possible next steps. That was, until you realized that people underestimated you simply for being a woman, so why not using that to your advantage? Luckily, you still remembered how to act as if you’re still in court, and you doubt that these people could see behind that facade as easily as the aristocrats could.

So, you let your face crumble at his words, let your jaw slacken and your gaze take on the thousand-yard stare. And then slowly you sunk your head forward and let your breath sound a little bit irregular. With the last touch of slightly trembling shoulders, you presented him the helpless, scared maiden. The only thing left to do was wait for him to take the bait.

A scoff. “You can stop the charade, there’s no way you would be that close to the battlefield if you were that easily scared.”

All you did was lift your head to face him again, your bottom lip slightly wobbling as the tears collected in your tears. “Bu- But I truly do not know what to do with myself. I was never supposed…” your voice cracked and you sniffed before continuing. “I was never supposed to be there in the first place.”

He rolled his eyes at your words. “Whatever you say, in the end, it doesn’t really matter anyway,” he leaned his head against his hand while watching you with apathy and boredom. “You act like we don’t know anything, huh? Annoying if you ask me.”

He didn’t seem to believe this act, so his friends probably wouldn’t either. With this realization, you just dropped it, a little disappointed sneer on your face as you wiped the tears on your shoulders. All while holding eye contact with him. With a puff of air, you shifted slightly in your seat, looking for a way to sit comfortably.

For a moment you considered asking questions, trying to see if you would be able to get some proper answers or any hints about their plans. But you dismissed that thought, as the earlier instances showed that he wouldn’t talk in any circumstance about anything important. And maybe he didn’t even know a lot to begin with. That was something you couldn’t just expect. So, you had to look at the situation as if it was the worst possible one. That meant that he might just be a guard, without any usable knowledge, and that you had to expect the escape to be near impossible. You had to be prepared for everything. So, it was important for you to take your time with planning. Still, one thing you needed to know, even if you weren’t sure he would tell you in the first place.

“Alright. But do tell, did you manage to actually catch the Captain? I highly doubt that this feat lies within your abilities,” you snickered, hoping that the last statement was enough to rile him up for some kind of response.

A little snort escaped him as he glanced back at you. Yet, he said nothing, and nothing could be read from his facial expressions. You kept staring at him, trying to discern any reaction, anything that could hint at the whereabouts of the Captain. But you found nothing. So, like you had decided earlier, you had to assume the worst. Which would be him being captive in this strange place. Somewhere you could not even think about, much less access in your current state.

A sigh escaped you, and there was nothing you could do at the moment. It was too risky to immediately break out, especially considering you had no idea where you were, or why you were here in the first place. And worst of all, there was nothing you could do. You were bound to a chair, and the only person in this place wouldn’t even think of talking to you. You couldn’t even fall asleep, because you just woke up, and even if you did feel battered, there was a buzzing in your veins, too vibrating to allow you to even relax. So, you did what you could do best, you stared at the ceiling and got a bit lost in your thoughts, with just enough awareness to notice any change in your environment.

*-*

You had no idea how much time had passed until some people finally entered the room you were staying in. Your gaze passed each of them, no recognition hitting you, at least the younger girl seemed to be the one to have drugged you. At least until the last person entered, and you couldn’t hold in the gasp escaping you. You knew him. He was someone you had spent by his side the last months eating and fighting and talking. You both weren’t necessarily close, yet you had thought there was some sort of camaraderie, an almost friendship, or at least some respect across the troupe. Yet, with his appearance he rendered everything you thought to be true as naught. Devastation hit you in the chest at his sight, at his mocking grin towards you, and you felt a grimace pulling at your face, your body not able to properly determine what to feel and how to express it.

“Shit, that’s what you fucking deserve. A stupid woman doesn’t belong in a battlefield. You’re disgusting,” he grinned at you, his gaze traveling over your body, almost ecstatic at the way you had been bound to the chair.

For some reason, his words hit you deeper than you had anticipated. They were echoing what you had been hearing all your life, and it seemed like it would never matter how much effort you put in to change their minds, they would continue to think that way, that you were nothing but a woman, nothing but a nuisance.

Still, you tried to keep some form of dignity, as you straightened your face to the best of your abilities, your teeth biting into the insides of your cheeks. And you avoided looking directly at him, in fear of inciting another reaction out of you. Instead you cocked your head and directed your gaze to one of them, the one who had entered the room at first.

“So, what’s going to happen now?” you asked, swallowing slightly as you felt how your voice trembled at the end.

“Right now, you’re going to talk and tell us everything we want to know,” he answered with a croaking voice, his fingers scratching at his neck.

You raised your eyebrows, trying to delay this interrogation for a bit. “Oh? And why do you think that I know something? And don’t you have your little… lap dog anyway?”

Your breath hitched when you heard him cuss you out, yet he didn’t attack you outright, so he had to know nothing and have no power to his traitorous name.

“He has no idea about anything. But you–” he scoffed, taking a step closer to you, to stand directly in front of you. You barely noticed his hand before he already grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your cheeks. “You’re closer to the Captain. There must be something you know. And honestly, if you don’t, you do make a compelling hostage.”

A grin spread over his face, his gums peeking, and you couldn’t help but think that he looked somewhat inhuman, terrifying. With a flick of his wrist, he released your face and signaled the others to step closer.

And for some reason, you weren’t terrified of them, afraid yes, your muscles spasming and your breathing painful, yet it was the same as on the battlefield. The only person you were terrified of, truly, was the man who had betrayed the group, the Captain, the country. In your view, he was unpredictable, you shook underneath his gaze, his words still echoing inside your brain. And you didn’t want him to step closer, yet you kept your mouth shut, didn’t allow yourself to reveal any possible weakness.

Oddly, you just hoped for the boss to take care of this, as you pinched your eyes close. In some way you trusted them a lot more. You couldn’t explain why. Maybe, there was some kind of respect in you, as one did after fighting each other for some time. And you sincerely hoped they felt the same in a tiny amount.

*-*

You had lost all sense of time. How long have you stayed in this room, with barely any food to sustain you for long? Despite just waking up, you felt tired, your bones aching and creaking with the small amount of movement you had been able to have. You were pretty sure it hadn’t been that long, but the pain in your body tried to tell you another story, and you had no idea if you passed out from it or simply because your body wanted to simulate a proper night's sleep.

No matter, you were tired, your eyes burning with each heavy blink. Yet, you had enough sense in you to notice how for once there was nobody in this room but you. They had never left you alone since you had arrived, and you started to give up. But now you had a chance to escape. Still, for a moment you contemplated if you should even try, exhaustion making your thoughts sluggier than necessary. You had no idea about your whereabouts, having failed at coercing anything out of the enemy, nothing but their own questions.

You pinched your eyebrows together, bringing the rest of your focus back, and in your mind you could almost hear the Captain yelling at you to ‘fucking focus!’. And for some reason that did it. Your thoughts were coherent enough for you to decide to at least try.

So, you let your gaze wander to the door, and you assumed, no, hoped, that they left it open, under the pretense that there was no way for you to get out of these knots and ropes holding you to the chair. And while that might be true, the ropes burning deep into your flesh, they seemed to have forgotten about the chair. One made out of wood.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly began to tip forward, readying your feet to catch you when the moment comes. And you managed to successfully catch yourself, albeit standing in an awkward squat.

You had to take another breath before moving on, because you knew that the next step was going to hurt. You sincerely hoped to get the right angle, as you had never had the need to execute this maneuver before. Closing your eyes, you jumped up, only to twist slightly back in the air, intending on falling in a way, which makes the chair simply break under your weight and the rudeness of it.

A crack and pain shooting up your hips. For a moment it seemed like it worked, but when you opened your eyes, you felt a gut punch as you realized the chair didn’t splinter to render you free, rather only a part broke.

Another shaky breath as you began to assess the citation, trying to peek behind you to see how the chair looks like. It seemed like only the joint keeping the seat and the back together had broken apart, giving you some flexibility, but not truly freeing you from your shackles. And you could easily free your legs and torso yourself, if only were your hands free.

So, your gaze jumped around the room, trying to look for something that might help you. But there was nothing but the walls, the small space empty and dusty. You hadn’t noticed how tiny your prison was, because of your immobility.

You began staring at the closest wall, trying to think of something. And then there was a possibility, perhaps the only one in your capabilities.

You brought your knees slowly to your chest, as much as the broken chair allowed you to, only to use them to push yourself across the floor, trying your best to inhale as little of the dust as possible. Every push took quite some time, yet the wall didn’t seem to get any closer. With every movement, you began to give up a little more, until your head bumped against a brick, in a way notifying you of your arrival.

Then you took a couple of shuffles to get the right angle. Once you had it, you began to twist your torso with speed, allowing yourself to smash one of the armrests against the wall. With every hit, the joints between it and the rest of the chair began to creak and crack. You had no idea how many times you smashed your arm against the wall, scratches and splinters digging deep into your skin at some point, yet you didn’t stop until the wood separated.

Even if you weren’t able to fully move your freed arm because a big piece of the armrest still clung to it, you now possessed enough range motion to reach over to your other arm and to dig your fingertips into the rope, trying to loosen the knots with brute force, before jamming them into the knots, opening them slowly but fully. Once that arm was truly free of the chair, you used its new freedom to get rid of the ropes around the other arm. You fully ignored the chafing and the pain radiating from it, as you focused on freeing up your torso and your legs, all while silently hoping that nobody entered while you were still opening up the last of the knots.

Breath caught in your throat, and you reached for your boot, for the weapon you had hidden during the confrontation. But all you felt there was your own skin and air. No sheath, no leather, nothing. For a moment you felt yourself choke on your own panic, as you slowly realized how vulnerable you were, have been. And how there was nothing for you to use. You didn’t even remember the last time you had no weapon on your body, every woman needed one, you needed one, right now, for the last weeks, for the rest of your life.

The person finally stepped into the room, and you scrambled back, your back hitting the wall, your hands scratching against the broken wood. And without thoughts or consideration you grabbed one piece, its point sharp from the impact earlier.

You licked your lips as your eyes stared at the point only to slowly shift towards the person standing in the door. And there was something inside of you zinging at the sight of this man, of this traitor, of someone standing above you, looking down on you. Your eyes shook as you slowly stood up, your back sliding over the wall. All while never breaking your gaze off of him. You couldn’t even tell if you were trembling, if you were holding the wooden piece correctly. All you did was stumble in his direction, your legs tingling due to the lack of use lately.

Finally, standing in front of him, but before he could grin, could say anything down to you, could tell on you, you swung the makeshift spear, the use of it akin to the use of a dagger as you let the sharp end dig into the soft flesh at his throat. He croaked surprised, the sounds coming out of him seemingly squashed. Blood trickled down. Soaking into the hem of his shirt, and you couldn’t help yourself but watch it spread.

With a jerk, a quelch you pulled the wood back to you, and now the blood began to bubble out of the wound. But he refused to weaken, still standing on his feet, still looking down on you. You wanted him to stop looking at you, wanted him to stop. So, you grabbed his head, bringing the point closer to it, getting rid of his annoying stare.

And finally, he fell to his knees, onto the ground with his face. His blood slowly tinting your shoes the same it had tainted the rest of your clothes, your skin.

It felt like you could finally breathe properly in this place, at least in this moment. So, you took a moment to enjoy this feeling of acquired freedom, before you grabbed his paling body to drag it into the room. You were aware that due to the blood on the floor, it won’t be long until they finally discover that something is amiss, even considering that they didn’t seem to care much about him. Before you left him to rot, you took away his weapons, and the disappointment choked you for a moment as you realized that he only had a dagger on his body, nothing else. Still, it had to be enough.

Closing the door behind you as you leave, you let your gaze swipe over everything, looking for any clue for the outside, and most importantly, for the Captain. There was nothing your sight picked up, so you decided to lick a rather clean finger and to hold it up, trying to discern if there was any wind blowing from any direction. There was a gentle breeze, one you barely noticed. That direction was the most likely one to be your way to freedom, yet you hesitated. You still didn’t know if the Captain had been captured also, he could be anywhere inside this place, and you were aware that you were purely lucky, there was no way they would even think of leaving him unattended.

You were torn, should you go look for him, or simply walk away to get help? Only, there was no guarantee that you would manage to reach the camp all alone or even be on time to get him help. You hated to admit it, but if he was stuck there, maybe you were his only chance at the moment. He would do the same for you, truly.

With one last glance to the side promising freedom, you slipped to the other side, keeping close to the wall and staying on your toes, dagger and wooden piece always in your hands. You kept peeking into every cell and room you encountered, but there was no one you recognized, all tattered clothes trembling in the corners or laying too silently. As much as you wanted to help, you knew that this lay beyond your capabilities at the moment. So, you continued sneaking around, looking for that still fierce stare of his.

And every time you encountered someone patrolling down the corridors, you waited until they turned their back to you to stab the dagger into their neck. And every time you cursed your lack of abilities in the manner of assassinations and the work of the shadows, as every movement of yours sounded incredibly loud and unnecessary. You couldn’t even get rid of anyone without any noise.

You dumped the bodies in the next best room, taking some weapons if available. At some point you felt like they made too much sound while you were trying to sneak around, so you had to drop some of them into an empty room. But for some reason, despite the amount of available weapons on your person, you didn’t let go of the wooden piece, its splinters digging deep into your skin.

After countless doors and cells, you began to give up. You should just turn around and escape, all by yourself. But you couldn’t, there was something inside your bones telling you to try one more cell, one more dark corner. And you rounded the next corner, only to stop when you spotted two guards in front of one single door. Nowhere else had you seen those stationed like this. There had to be someone important. You decided to look into that particular room, no matter who was inside, they probably needed help. At least, you would have tried to help someone in this ashen place.

Looking at the position of the guards, you doubted you could sneak close enough to them to attack them without retaliation. So, you grabbed one of the longer daggers to give you more reach, before sprinting towards them. They immediately noticed you and pulled their swords. And as much as you wished to hold one too, you were aware that the walls were too close for a proper sword, especially against two opponents. You just hoped they would accidentally start bothering each other with their limited reach.

You focused on the one slightly closer to you, your eyes looking for a weak spot with every step, and even if you didn’t find one immediately, you didn’t slow down. Rather you simply avoided the clumsy swing of the sword, as he tried to strike you down, before you rammed into him with the full force of your speed. He lost his balance, toppling over and you landed on top of him. Without delay, you grabbed the helmet of his and pushed away to plunge the blade into his now freed throat.

The blood flowed and you felt some sprinkle over your face. Wiping it away, you almost missed the movement behind you, as the other person swung their own blade towards you. You barely had any time to react as you tried to roll away, but the blade still grazed your thigh. A sharp pain burst in your flesh there, more than a simple graze warranted. It almost distracted you from the next upcoming attack and you had no other possibility but to hold your own, much smaller blade against theirs. Gravity supported them, as they tried to drive the sword into you.

As the sharp edge inched closer to your body, you jammed your foot into their lower body, trying to get them to lose their balance in any way as you continued to kick up. The blade was at such a small distance, your own blade started digging into your skin. It was over, your strength wasn’t enough to win this.

But before you could even think of letting go, a loud noise clattered from the closed door, startling you both, but that surprise was exactly what you needed, as their muscles loosened the tiniest bit. You grabbed another weapon from your clothes and stabbed its blade into their wrist holding the sword, hoping to have slashed some tendons. The reaction was immediate as he let go of the blade, letting it fall. You on the other hand didn’t react fast enough, and it grazed your ear and shoulder, feeling the blood slowly pooling underneath your head.

They were holding their wrist close to their chest, and you took the chance, grabbed their own sword to drive it into their chest cavity. Their blood splattered all over you before they fell onto the ground, twitching and huffing.

For a moment you allowed yourself to take a breather, laying between the two corpses as their blood soaked your clothes, sending shivers down your back.

A second crash and you flinched as you looked towards the door. Instead of saying something, you sat up, feeling the pain radiating from your thigh, and you knew that the injury there had opened up again. A sigh escaped you, and you ripped the seam of your tattered shirt to bind it over the wound once again. You hoped you could withstand the pain long enough, because it didn’t feel as bad as it did at first when you got stabbed there.

Another crash sounded and you slowly got annoyed by whoever was doing that.

“Okay, okay, Calm down.”

And it was silent after you said this, but you weren’t sure if they actually listened to you. Nonetheless you stood up and walked up to the door. On the way you pulled out a dagger before kneeling in front of the lock. You had no idea how to break a lock, but you assumed that if you jammed the tip of the blade with strong enough force it would break it.

You began to jam the blade into the sides of the lock, trying to get a reaction out of it. After some time, without any crashes from the inside to distract you, you finally heard some sort of clicking noise. Still, you didn’t dare take away the blade until you pushed the door open.

You didn’t know how to react to the insides of the cell. And for a moment the only thing moving was the piece of wood hitting the floor. There was joy pumping your heart, but also some embarrassment when you realized how bad you had to look. The Captain only frowned at your sight, before taking over as he walked past you.

“Looks like your head was hit,” he grumbled as he pointed towards the keys on the belt of one of the guards.

You felt hot, shame making it difficult to explain yourself. But before you could even try to reiterate, you felt a finger tipping your chin up, and you met his hot gaze, filled with fury. His finger traveled over your cheek to your cut ear. “I hope you paid this filth back a thousandfold…”

Something told you that if these two guards were alive, he would have shown them something worse than death. But you didn’t mind this, you just enjoyed the way your heart finally seemed to settle once you found him.

He let his hand fall away, some of your blood on his fingertips, and stepped away. You handed him some of the weapons you had collected before starting to tell him what way to go. But instead of letting you finish speaking he told you to take the lead. He obviously didn’t want to waste time, but you were glad to be trusted like that.

So, you walked down the same corridors you came from, they were still empty as you left them. Until you stopped in front of the room you had occupied. A glance in his direction told you to just continue walking. You did. This time, it took you both longer to find your way out, nothing indicating any sort of possible escape, especially the lack of guards. The halls were empty. And you had to admit that it worried you to not meet any resistance at all.

After some time, you finally stumbled across the exit, and you opened the door, ready for the onslaught of enemies. But what was across the threshold was more than you had anticipated.

[tales-of-wocdes]

How would Harvard and Lexia react if someone asked MC what they wanted to be when they grew up and MC pointed at them

"Aah, kid you are going to make me blush." Lexia says and beams at you. Is it just you, or are her cheeks a bit flushed? Yet, you think she is incredibly happy right now.

"Wanna start practicing how to swing a sword? Hit people properly?" She seems quite excited. "Put on armor?"

With your hands, can you even hit people properly? Do you really want to? She keeps chattering.... and you have a feeling she is distracting you from the fact that her cheeks are in fact a bit flushed.

Still... all of that sounds awesome.

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

Havard smiles softly at you. "I see." He says and comes over. "Thank you. That is incredibly flattering." He kneels in front of you. "It makes me very happy, but I do want you to remember that you can be whatever you wish to be MC. It might not be easy, but you can do it."

Sure... but you wanna be like him! Nothing better to grow up into.

His hands rest of your shoulders, and he chuckles softly. "Yes, and that is all fine and well." He seems really happy about it... Why is he telling you all this other stuff?

As usual, he seems to understand your confusion. "All I want you to know, is that I am happy that you wish to be like me." He smiles, and you preen a bit. "But just remember, that you don't have to emulate me or Lexia. You are you after all."

You don't really get it... but Havard just smiles at you.

"You will. One day."

[legendary-69420]

Billionaire on the Track MOMENTS-3 (Extras ✨)

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME ?) MASTERLIST : RACING HEARTS

The interview was going well—smooth, lighthearted, and full of the usual banter that came with Formula 1 media rounds. Charles leaned back in his seat, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as the reporter posed the next question.

"Charles, being a Ferrari driver comes with some perks, no? Tell us, if you could have any car in the world, what would it be?"

Charles tilted his head, considering the question, then chuckled. "Well, I’m pretty sure that if I ask, ‘I would like to drive this car,’ then Ferrari will make it happen. So yeah, this is obviously very, very special. Whatever car, whichever year, Ferrari can make it happen."

The room erupted in polite laughter, the ease in Charles’ tone and his casual confidence earning a few nods of agreement from the audience.

But then came Mark’s turn.

Sitting beside Charles, Mark Spencer adjusted his watch—a luxury piece that subtly caught the light—and answered with a nonchalant shrug. "Well, I’m pretty sure I’d already own the car I want in my collection."

The room fell silent for a moment, the blunt honesty of Mark’s words catching everyone off guard. Then, scattered laughter and murmurs filled the space.

Charles shot Mark a sideways glance, one eyebrow raised, as if to say, Really? But Mark, as usual, seemed utterly unbothered, leaning back in his chair with an easy smile.

Later, the internet buzzed with reactions to the interview.

"Charles is so spoiled by Ferrari, but Mark is such a spoiled brat…who does he think he is?"

"Wait, how rich is this guy to own every car he wants?"

"I like how he’s crazy rich but never actually mentions it."

"Mark really said 'Oh, I probably already own it' like it's nothing 😭🔥. Must be NICE to be that rich 💸."

"Charles is spoiled by Ferrari, but Mark is on ANOTHER level 😳. Imagine owning every car you dream of 🚗✨. Unreal."

"The AUDACITY of him to say that so casually 😭. I both hate him and want to be him 🥲💀."

"Charles: 'Ferrari will get me anything.' Mark: 'I already have it.' THESE TWO ARE ON COMPLETELY DIFFERENT LEVELS OF SPOILED 😭🔥."

"I swear this man lives in a different dimension 😂. Billionaire + F1 driver + insanely hot?? UNFAIR 💔🔥."

"Mark is out here reminding us all that we’re broke in the most elegant way possible 💀💸😭."

"So Mark’s basically been rich, famous, talented, and handsome his entire life? COOL COOL, I’M FINE, DEFINITELY NOT JEALOUS 🥲🔥."

"He’s so rich, yet so CHILL about it 🤷‍♂️😎. That’s the kind of rich we all aspire to be 💰✨."

Mark’s fans were quick to defend him, though, pointing out that his wealth had little to do with his skills on the track. Still, the intrigue around Mark’s family grew.

At home in Monaco, Charles sat on his couch, scrolling through Twitter on his phone. Every other tweet seemed to mention Mark’s comment or speculate about his background. His curiosity got the better of him.

Arthur, Charles’ younger brother, wandered into the living room, munching on an apple.

"Arthur," Charles said, not looking up from his phone, "do me a favor. Look up Mark Spencer’s family. I want to know who they are."

Arthur gave him a skeptical look. "Why? Feeling nosy ?"

"Just do it," Charles said, exasperated. "He said something in the interview today, and now the whole internet is losing its mind."

Arthur sighed, but he grabbed his laptop and started typing. It didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for. A few minutes later, his eyes widened as he read through the search results.

"Okay," Arthur said, glancing at Charles. "This guy is… loaded. Like, top three billionaires in Italy loaded."

Charles’ eyebrows shot up. "Top three? You’re joking."

"I’m not," Arthur said, spinning the laptop around to show Charles the screen. "The Spencers are involved in everything—Coca-Cola, luxury brands like Louis Vuitton and Gucci, you name it. And apparently, they’ve been doing business with Ferrari for, like, 25 years. It’s practically in their blood."

Charles leaned forward, skimming through the details on the screen. The Spencer name carried weight, not just in Italy but globally. Alessandro Spencer, Mark’s father, was listed as one of the most influential businessmen in the world.

"So, he’s not just some rich guy," Charles muttered. "He’s that rich."

Arthur smirked. "Yup. Makes sense why he chose Ferrari, though, doesn’t it? Family history and all that."

Charles frowned. "Do people think that’s why he’s here? Because of his family?"

Arthur shrugged. "Some might. But listen to this—when Alessandro Spencer was asked about it, he said, ‘My son’s professional life is not affected by his family.’ So, basically, Mark got into F1 because of talent, not connections."

Charles leaned back in his seat, processing the information. Mark was an enigma. On one hand, he was the poster child for wealth and privilege, casually mentioning his car collection like it was nothing. On the other hand, he’d worked his way into Formula 1 on merit alone, proving that he wasn’t just coasting on his family name.

"Interesting," Charles murmured, a slight smile tugging at his lips. He was beginning to understand why Mark carried himself the way he did. There was more to the man than met the eye, and Charles couldn’t help but feel a little more intrigued.

---

The next time Charles saw Mark, it was at the track. Mark was leaning against a wall, chatting casually with a few engineers.

"Hey, Spencer," Charles called out, walking over.

Mark turned, his signature smirk already in place. "LecLec. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Charles crossed his arms. "So, how big is this car collection of yours?"

Mark laughed, a deep, genuine sound. "Not Big enough," he said cryptically.

Charles shook his head, a grin breaking through despite himself. "You’re unbelievable."

"I try," Mark said with a wink. Then, as if sensing that Charles had been digging into his background, he added, "You know, you can just ask me next time, instead of sending your little brother on a fact-finding mission."

Charles froze. "How did you—"

Mark simply tapped the side of his head. "I have my ways."

As Mark walked away, Charles couldn’t help but laugh. The guy was impossible to figure out, but one thing was certain—Mark Spencer was full of surprises. (In reality Arthur just mentioned about it when him and Mark were simply texting about casual stuff)

[uncanny-tranny]

I think as we grow up, we have to be really conscious of romanticizing the world we grew up in in order to scorn how the next generations are growing up.

Nostalgia isn't inherently bad, but especially in political spaces, be very wary of this idea that there is an Ideal Past we must Harken Back To.

It sucks to feel left behind, but such is the human condition. It isn't bad to feel nostalgic, but that doesn't mean that these new generations are inherently "lost" and "need to be saved (by you)", and I think that is very important to remember and try to be conscious of.

[crumbleclub]

my mum, seeing i got a new journal: ah, something new for me to read :)

me, knowing she's probably joking but vividly remembering all the times she used to go through my phone: *eye twitch*

[canisonicscrewyou]

she’s insane she’s a wet cat of a human being she’s got daddy and mommy issues up to here she’s pathetic she’s everything she’s a breakthrough case she’s in hiding she’s forever mourning she’s a mom she’s got trauma she doesn’t even know how to find a therapist for she loves her friends and she secretly loves attention and if one things for certain she’s never stepping foot inside of the TARDIS ever again (a lie)

[the-cimmerians]

It's 2024. I have been participating in fandom for 40 years. This is a ramble commemorating some history I've experienced along the way.

In 1984, I attended my first convention, and made a beeline for the one long row of covered tables in the Dealer's Room that was, according to the whispered lore of my friends, 'the one'. "um", I said, very suavely and coherently, except for how it was totally the opposite of those things, "I'm here for the... for the, uh. For-"

"Come around here," the man behind the table said with exhausted ennui, so I went around, and he lifted up the table skirt next to him and pointed to rows and rows of boxes underneath the line of tables. "It's all under here."

It was all under there. Along with about five older ladies with glasses, graying hair, cardigans. Flipping through slash zines and chatting in whispered voices like old friends (which of course they were). I noticed one of them had the good sense to be wearing kneepads. I was still too young and ablebodied to need kneepads when crawling on a carpeted floor, but I immediately found her preparedness skills to be both impressive and hot. "You're new," one of the ladies whispered to me--a bit warily, which made sense. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"

In the faint light (the kneepads lady had also come prepared with a flashlight, additional practicality hotness points for her) I grabbed a comb-bound book with a heavy line art piece on the cover, featuring a musclebound Captain Kirk getting righteously and enthusiastically plowed by a stern-yet-ebullient Spock. "This," I said, pointing helpfully at the cover, like I was trying to make myself understood in a language I had only the vaguest knowledge of. "I'm here for this."

Outside at the convention, most of the attendees were wearing large homemade circular pins that shrieked 'K/S is BS!!!'1. But underneath the table, we reveled in the forbidden.

***

In 1985, I fell very hard for Starsky & Hutch fandom. Which was simply referred to at the time as 'the other fandom', because there were only two. We were upstarts. Many fannish elders predicted that it was just a phase.

***

The 'circulating library' was a massive stack of barely-legible pages that smelled strongly of mimeograph ink. When you were on the list, you would write stories while you waited for your turn, and when the big box was mailed to you, you would read everything (new finds, old favorites), add your own sloppily-typed or hastily-mimeographed stories, and then mail the whole thing to the next person. For me, at the time, it was an extremely expensive indulgence--but my favorite one.

***

By 1990, slash fandom had grown enough that I no longer knew everyone in it, which was both thrilling and a bit daunting. A young woman at a convention waited for me after a panel I was part of (I think it was 'writing impactful smut' or something like that), and said she had a question she didn't want to ask in a group setting. I'd heard that before. I said that's fine, go ahead and ask; and she came out with: "Why do you have to be gay?"

I blinked. "Is... that a problem?"

She looked annoyed. "Yes, because your stories are on all the recommendation lists and in all the top zines, but if you're gay and I read something you wrote and I get hot from it that makes me gay, and I'm not gay."

"Wow." I grinned, I couldn't help it. It probably made me look very predatory-dyke-about-to-score-a-toaster. Whatever, it was enough to make her back away from me fast.

When I thought about it later that night, I wondered what it would be like not to be the only queer person in slash fandom.

***

By 1997, slash started appearing on the internet. Many fannish elders claimed it was the death knell of slash fandom, or dismissed it as 'just a phase'.

***

Anyway, I wrote all this for myself as a commemoration of sorts, but if you took the time to read it--thank you. Love you, fandom. I always will.

1 In those days, m/m fandom was known as 'slash', which grew from the fannish shorthand where 'K&S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock having adventures or tribulations or what have you, and 'K/S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock getting it on (Kirk divided by Spock or Spock into Kirk--it was mathy fannish humor and I was into it then and I still am now). Slash was decidedly unpopular in the fannish world in 1984, and there was a concerted effort to force slash authors, artists, and fans out of 'mainstream' fannish public life. Hence, under the table.

[starryjake]

teddy bear pajamas | l.h

in which heeseung is supposed to be sleeping over with his best friend, jay, but spends the night with jay’s younger sister instead.

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: throat fucking, fingering, making out, nipple play, spitting, cum swallowing. (lmk if i missed anything).

how you were supposed to fall asleep when your brother and his friends were screaming in the other room was beyond you. video games, of course. that was the culprit as to why they were screaming and you were about a minute away from walking into the living room and exploding.

how badly you wanted to go to them and yell at them to shut up.

instead, you chose the mature option. you took a deep breath and decided to yell at your brother over text instead.

you: if you guys don’t shut the fuck up

jay: do i need to remind you that i pay your rent

you sighed. he was right. you felt bad complaining when jay already did so much for you. not only did he pay your rent, but he cooked for you, lended you money when you needed it, and always let you have friends over without complaint.

you: nvm 😁

you turned your phone back off, laying on your side. you pressed a pillow over your ear in hopes to muffle the sounds of the boys yelling, and while it didn’t do much, you were able to fall asleep after a few minutes.

-

you managed to fall asleep for a good two hours before you were awoken again. you expected it to be the boys again, but the apartment you shared with your brother was silent.

suddenly, your phone buzzed. with squinted eyes, you grabbed your phone to check the notification.

it was heeseung, one of jay’s best friends. you knew all of jay’s friends. you practically grew up with them, and some of them you even considered to be your brothers as well.

heeseung: are you awake?

his text woke you up a bit more. you sat up in your bed, wracking your brain as to why he was texting you this late.

you: yeah, why?

heeseung: jay is snoring and i can’t sleep 😣

you: yeah sounds about right

you chuckled to yourself at his dilemma.

heeseung: yeah well i was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie?

heeseung: say yes 🙏

your heart raced. your first instinct was to answer yes in all capital letters, but luckily your brain reminded you how utterly pathetic that would be.

you did not want to mess up and embarrass yourself in front of heeseung.

you: it’s the middle of the night. you’re funny if you think i’m getting out of bed rn

heeseung: well we can watch smth in your bed

you gulped. just the mere idea of having heeseung next to you in your bed, watching a movie together excited you. you didn’t know why. it wasn’t like you liked heeseung or anything, but you always saw him as the coolest out of your brother’s friends. that was why you were always cautious about what you said in front of him and how you presented yourself. you wanted to impress him.

however, he would not be impressed if he were to walk into your bedroom right now and see you in your teddy bear matching set pajamas. he’d probably laugh.

you were already overthinking and you hadn’t even agreed yet.

you: ok fine

heeseung: be right there

now, you deemed, was an appropriate time for the panic to set in. you leapt out of bed and beelined for your closet, rummaging through all your clothes for a more appealing set of pajamas.

unfortunately, you’d underestimated how long it would take for heeseung to walk from jay’s room to yours, and suddenly there was a knock on your bedroom door.

you froze in the doorway of your closet, still wearing your teddy bear printed pajamas.

accepting defeat, you softly called out, “come in.”

the bedroom door opened and in walked heeseung. he was wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, his dark hair slightly tousled from sleep, or attempting to sleep. your knees buckled at the sight of him.

you’d always thought he was cool, and with that, you’d thought he was very attractive too. still, that didn’t mean you had feelings for him.

“hey,” he greeted in that soft voice of his. he quietly shut the door behind him. “cute pajamas.”

your cheeks flushed. you shut your closet door because it was too late to find a different pair of pajamas now.

“thanks,” you muttered.

you grabbed your laptop from off of your desk and trudged back into your bed. you tucked yourself back under the covers and watched heeseung, waiting for his next movement.

he walked over to your bed and climbed underneath the covers like he’d been sleeping there with you for the past year that you lived in the apartment. he scooted in close enough for your arms to be touching. he was so warm, it was hard for you not to lean into his touch.

“what do you wanna watch?” he asked.

“oh, i don’t care,” you said, opening your laptop.

you scrolled through the streaming platform for a bit before you both mutually agreed on a romantic comedy. you started playing the movie, resting the laptop on a pillow between your guys’ legs.

the movie started and it only took a few minutes for your eyelids to begin growing heavy. you would’ve dozed off had it not been the sudden movement from heeseung, who’s hand was suddenly very close to the side of your leg.

your eyes fluttered open. you kept your body very still, unsure whether he meant to put his hand so close or not. either way, you didn’t want to accidentally create an awkward situation.

20 minutes into the movie, heeseung’s hand was painfully slowly shifting it’s way onto your thigh. you were so exhausted you could barely comprehend it, but there was a small part of your brain freaking out, you just kept it all internalized.

“are you tired?” heeseung asked, speaking for the first time since the movie started.

“oh, i’m okay,” you lied.

“are you sure?” he wondered, genuine concern in his voice. “we can turn the movie off if you wanna go to sleep. i can go back to jay’s room.”

the last thing you wanted was for him to leave, especially with how heavy his hand was on your thigh and how it inched further up every minute.

“no, don’t go,” you said, too tired to realize how pathetic you sounded.

heeseung smiled at your words. he squeezed your thigh ever so slightly. your legs instinctively opened slightly, practically inviting him in.

“want me to stay?” he asked, his voice coming out in a whisper.

he was suddenly a lot closer than he was before, so close that you could feel his warm breath hit your face and his body heat radiate from him like a furnace.

you gulped, looking up into his eyes. you’d always loved his eyes, but never had the chance to see them up close like this.

for whatever reason, your half asleep mind told you it was okay to suddenly reach out and brush some of his hair out of his face, exposing more of his pretty face. he smiled at the bold movement from you. it was just the confirmation he needed that you were interested, and so he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

your eyes fluttered shut and your body shuddered with excitement. heeseung was kissing you. his one hand was gently holding your cheek while the other one stayed planted on your thigh, and he was kissing you.

you glided your fingers through his hair, tugging at the silky strands to express your pleasure. he moaned ever so softly in your mouth, inching his tongue into the mix.

you parted your lips further, leaving enough room for him to slide his tongue all the way in. you rubbed your tongue against his, your hips jutting off the bed in desperation. how embarrassing that you were already getting aroused just by the feeling of his tongue gliding against yours.

heeseung took notice of your desperation, which you were both humiliated and grateful for, as he slid his hand over your front, cupping your clothed pussy.

you clenched your eyes shut harder, whimpering into his mouth as he pushed his fingers against the fabric of your pants, sliding them delicately up and down the length of your pussy. you leaned your head back, disconnecting the kiss, and let out a needy moan.

“shh,” heeseung warned, planting a kiss to the side of your neck. “we don’t need your brother waking up and catching us, do we?”

you rapidly shook your head, sudden fear overcoming you at just the idea of jay catching you in your bed with heeseung. the idea scared you so much that your entire body froze and you stared at heeseung with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights.

“it’s okay,” he cooed. “you can be quiet, can’t you? you’ll be a good girl if i tell you to be, right?”

you gulped. “but what if he—”

“he won’t,” heeseung assured. “you’re always so quiet when you talk, you can be quiet in bed too, yeah?”

you nodded, thinking how it might actually be worth it if jay were to catch you because at least you would’ve been able to say that you’d hooked up with heeseung, a dream of yours for a long time.

“good baby,” he cooed, leaning back in and enveloping your lips in his again.

you fell slack under his touch, sighing in utter contentment. heeseung used the tips of two of his fingers to rub tiny circles where your clit was over your pants. that alone would’ve been enough to make you cum had he done it long enough.

instead, he does it for about a minute before wanting to feel your pussy without any interference. he slid his large hand into your pants and you gasped as his knuckle brushed against your bare pussy. heeseung smirked into the kiss upon feeling how wet you were already.

he took his index finger and gathered all your slick, spreading it around your pussy. you pathetically humped up into his hand, needing more but unable to find the words to ask for it.

“you’re so cute,” he gushed, pressing his forehead against yours. he held close eye contact with you as he slid his middle finger into your fluttering hole, watching your reaction closely. “so warm and wet, baby. is this all for me?”

you whimpered, nodding. he massaged his finger against your walls, stretching you out before he added in his ring finger. the sound of your pussy being fucked open by his two fingers was lewd and humiliating, but it turned heeseung on more than you knew. you couldn’t tell how hard he was, how he was pulsating against his sweatpants.

his palm hit your sensitive clit every time he thrusted his fingers into you. you were already a mess from the sensations, tucking your head into the crook of his neck to hide your embarrassment.

heeseung could feel your legs vibrating. you were so sensitive, he loved it. he wanted to make a complete utter mess out of you, just to see what it looked like. he wanted to see his best friend’s normally composed, shy little sister fall apart beneath him.

so, he sped up his fingers and fucked them into you deeper until he was reaching the spongey part deep inside your pussy. when he found that, you yelped, and he knew it was only a matter of time before you were cumming around his fingers.

when you did cum, your legs locked around his hand. you practically rode his fingers as your orgasm hit you, your fluids leaking down the side of his hand and seeping through your pajama pants.

“fuck,” he grunted just at the sight of you finishing, and how hot you looked.

you raised your head from his neck and looked up at him with glossy eyes and bright red cheeks. your hair was messy, your lips wet and swollen. heeseung could’ve came just by looking at you, you looked so good.

“oh my god,” he muttered. “c’mere, baby.”

his hand pressed against the back of your head, pushing your faces together. he kissed you again, although it was so messy that it could hardly be considered a kiss. he gathered some saliva in his mouth and pushed it into your lips without separating the kiss, and you drank all of what he gave you happily.

he pulled his hand out of your pants, exposing his hand which was covered in your release. he couldn’t decide whether to bring his fingers to his own lips or yours. he was desperate to know what you tasted like, but he also would’ve killed to see you with his fingers in your mouth, licking up your own arousal.

you took the initiative yourself, grabbing his wrist and stuffing his fingers into your mouth. you two moaned at the same time: you from tasting yourself on his fingers and him from seeing you with his fingers in your mouth. he would’ve never guessed you were this dirty, that his best friend’s little sister could be so lewd and needy.

you sat up on your knees once he’d pulled his fingers out of your mouth. finally, you were deciding to pay some attention to his cock, which was aching and he feared that he was so pent up, he might cum the moment you touch it.

luckily, that didn’t happen.

you palmed him over his sweatpants, grinning at how hard he was. you didn’t waste time teasing him over his sweatpants. instead, you knelt between his legs and tugged his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to spring out.

it was lengthy, which intimidated you as it stood straight up right in front of your face. intimidating as it was, you were hungry to taste him, to wrap your lips around his flushed tip and suck every last drop out of him.

heeseung dug his fingers into your hair and watched without allowing himself to blink as you licked his tip like it was a lollipop. you dug the tip of your tongue into his slit, gathering the bead of precum that had gathered there.

heeseung was sensitive. he always had been. he couldn’t help it when he jutted his hips up because it felt too good and he needed more. he needed to feel his cock constricted in the warm wet walls of your throat. he needed to be fucking your mouth like it was your pussy.

he gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail, slowly lifting his hips up and pushing his cock deeper into your cavernous mouth. you allowed him happily, hollowing your cheeks out for added friction.

“you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he grunted, watching in utter fascination as you took his cock in your throat without so much as a gag.

you held onto his sides for leverage, but other than that you showed no sign of struggle. if anything, you only showed signs of enjoying this, of enjoying having his cock thrusting in your throat. you squeezed your legs together, resisting the urge to touch yourself or better yet, hump yourself against his leg.

his thrusts got faster and faster by the second when he saw how unbothered you were. soon enough, his cock was pistoning in your throat and you just took it, drool spilling out the corners of your lips.

heeseung paused his movements to pull your shirt over your head, exposing your chest to him. he reached down and tweaked your nipples between his thumb and index fingers, fucking up into your mouth again.

“oh my god,” he moaned. “you’re a dream. you’re amazing.”

all you could do was hum around him, unable to speak with your mouth occupied. you brought your hand up and fumbled with his heavy balls, massaging them in your palm.

heeseung threw his head back, suddenly holding your head with your nose pressed to his pelvis. his cock twitched once before you felt the first rope of cum hit the back of your throat, followed by many more streams of his sticky white substance.

he moaned loudly, certainly loud enough that jay and any of the other guys would be able to hear and understand what was going on behind your bedroom door. but now, you didn’t care. his moans sounded angelic and you knew it was a sound you wanted to hear again and again.

he didn’t release his grasp on you until he was completely finished dumping his load down your throat. your scalp tingled from the pain when he finally did let you go, allowing you to come up for air.

you swallowed all his release and took a deep breath, both of you calming down.

“holy fuck,” heeseung muttered in a complete daze.

you laid by his side, smiling to yourself. to be frank, you wanted more, but it seemed like heeseung was done. his eyes were closed, his chest was rising and falling rapidly. you would’ve thought he’d fallen asleep had it not been for his next words.

“come here,” he whispered.

you laid your head on his chest, expecting to fall asleep and leave it at that.

until he said, “wanna keep going?”

-

read part 2 here!

[rafecameronssl4t]

Can you write something where Rafe falls for a girl in a committed relationship but the guy she’s with (who is a kook) just isn’t nice to her? Lots of angst plsssss

Please, please, please || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: thank u for the request 💗

Warnings: smoking, reader having alochol problems, swearing, reader x toxic!bf

Word count: 1,168

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

“And please, please, please, don’t bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice. Heartbreak is one thing, my ego’s another, I beg you, don’t embarrass me motherfucker.”

“Trouble in paradise, three o’clock,” Topper mutters, letting out a low whistle as he leans against the porch railing. Rafe turns his head to see the source of the commotion. “Stop being so selfish!” Jacques, your boyfriend, shouts as he storms out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

“I don’t want to do it,” you retort, spinning around to face him on the other side of the vehicle, your eyes blazing with defiance. “How many fucking favors have I done for you? And yet you can’t even do one for me?” Jacques rages, his voice rising with frustration.

“I don’t care. I’m not doing it, Jacques,” you snap back, your voice cold and resolute as you slam his car door and start to walk away. In a fit of rage, Jacques slams his hand down on the roof of the car, the sound reverberating through the tense air. “Don’t slam my car, you fucking selfish bitch!” he yells, his words dripping with venom. You fight back tears, your vision blurring as you refuse to look back.

“Shit,” Topper mutters under his breath, watching the scene unfold with a mix of concern and disbelief. Rafe’s eyes follow you as you hurry up the stairs and disappear into the house. “I don’t know how she’s still with him when he treats her like absolute shit,” Topper says, shaking his head in dismay.

~

Rafe had his eyes trained on you the entire dinner, even though you were seated at the far end of the table. His gaze was intense, unwavering, and concerned as he watched the tension between you and Jacques escalate.

As the bickering between you and Jacques grew more heated, Rafe’s expression hardened. You pushed your chair back abruptly, the legs scraping loudly against the polished floor, drawing the attention of everyone around the table.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jacques hissed, his hand shooting out to yank your arm down with a grip that made you wince in pain. “Let go of me, Jacques,” you seethed through gritted teeth, your voice low, trying to maintain a composed facade as your parents and a few other guests turned their heads in curiosity and concern.

“Don’t make a scene, okay?” Jacques warned, his voice dripping with irritation and a hint of desperation. “I’m not making a scene, you are!” you snapped back, your voice rising slightly as you yanked your arm free from his grip. With a final glare, you grabbed your purse and stormed out onto the verandah, the screen door slamming shut behind you with a resounding bang.

Rafe’s eyes followed your every movement, his jaw clenched in anger. “Excuse me for a moment,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the murmurs of the other diners. Pushing back his chair, he rose from the table, his movements deliberate and controlled, and followed you outside.

As he stepped onto the verandah, the cool night air hit him, and he saw you standing by the railing, your back to him, shoulders shaking slightly. He approached you cautiously, his footsteps soft on the wooden planks. “You good?” Rafe’s voice was gentle, filled with genuine concern as he reached out to touch your shoulder.

You flinch at his touch, turning your head slightly to the side. Quickly, you raise the back of your hand to wipe the spilt alcohol from the corner of your lips. “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you stutter, hastily shoving the flask back into your purse as Rafe watches with a curious gaze.

“You sure? ’Cause you and your boyfriend don’t seem fine,” Rafe remarks, pulling a lighter and a cigarette packet from his pocket. He lights a cigarette with a swift, practiced motion, the flame briefly illuminating his concerned expression.

You stay quiet, the awkward silence stretching as you wonder if he saw the earlier confrontation. “Jacques just has a short temper sometimes, no big deal,” you chuckle awkwardly, your back pressing against the verandah railing. Rafe scoffs, exhaling a cloud of smoke, his eyes fixed on the dark, rippling water below.

“Why are you defending him? He’s a fucking prick, y/n,” Rafe says, his voice tinged with frustration and disbelief. You knew Rafe was right. The truth of his words stung, and for a moment, you felt exposed and vulnerable. Your mind raced, replaying the countless times Jacques’ temper had flared, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.

“I… I don’t know,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s complicated.” Rafe takes a deep drag of his cigarette, then flicks the ash away, his eyes never leaving yours. “It doesn’t have to be. You deserve better than that bastard,” he says, his tone softening. “You don’t have to put up with his shit, y’know that right?”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you look down, unable to meet Rafe’s intense gaze. The weight of his words, the truth in them, felt both comforting and overwhelming. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, the cool night air filling your lungs.

“I know,” you whisper, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. “So then, why are you still with him.” He retorts, his face hard as he intensely stares at your face. You look out over the verandah, a small sigh escaping your lips.

“I’ve been with Jacques for so long, it’s hard to remember what life was like before him,” you confess, your voice trembling slightly, “I keep hoping he’ll change, but it never happens.” Rafe lets out a scoff as he shakes his head.

“Wake up y/n, people like Jacques rarely change. They promise they will, but it’s just words. You deserve someone who respects you, who doesn’t hurt you.” You nod slowly, the realization sinking in. “I know. I guess I’ve just been afraid to admit it. Afraid what my parents would say.”

"Who cares what your parents think?" Rafe scoffs, his tone dismissive. You exhale slowly, feeling the weight of their judgments. "They've got plenty to say about my drinking," you admit, shrugging. Rafe studies your side profile, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"They'll get over it. Jacques is a prick anyway," he replies nonchalantly, taking another drag from his cigarette before handing it to you. "Thanks," you mutter, accepting it and taking a long pull, watching the smoke swirl and dance in the air.

"I should probably head back," you say suddenly, passing the cigarette back to him. Rafe nods, stubbing it out. "Yeah, me too," he says, clearing his throat and smoothing down his shirt.

"Thanks, Rafe. For being here for me," you say sincerely, meeting his gaze. "Anytime, y/n. I'm always here for you," he replies with a warm smile, his hands tucked into his pockets. You nod, offering a small smile before heading back inside.

[nejiverse]

NOT SO NONCHALANT

Ryomen Sukuna

cw: like two swear words, pregnant reader, mean (ish) sukuna

812 words

Sukuna currently had his elbow against his pillow, his hand propping his head up and he stared up at his lover who sat up cross-legged on the bed, mind you, it was 3am.

"What the hell is your problem?", he inquired. It was a justified question. What sane person sits up in bed in the dead of night and stares into space??

"I'm thinking", she responded, a hand on her chin in deep thought and her eyes narrowing in concentration.

Sukuna let out an exasperated sigh. "Maybe I shouldn't have gotten you pregnant 'cause clearly it's turning you into a mad woman", he turned to the other side and opted to go back to sleep. Maybe if he ignored her she would follow suit.

But no. This was a five month pregnant lady who wouldn't rest until she gets what she wants.

"I'm hungry Ryo".

Sukuna scoffed a laugh. "What's new?", he pulled the covers higher. "You can eat whatever you want in your dreams...so sleep", he ordered.

Y/n gasped, crawling over to his side and shaking his shoulder. "What do you mean 'what's new?'".

Sukuna rolled his eyes, unfazed by her actions. He wouldn't be surprised if she started crying any second now.

"That's so mean Ryo!", she wailed, slapping his arm yet doing absolutely no damage whatsoever.

Sukuna's eyebrow twitched involuntarily. "What did I say about calling me that?", he grumbled. It made his heart feel all funny and he didn't like it one bit.

The woman moved to straddle the king of curses, a heavy frown etched on her lips. "I want barbecue".

There it was, those damn eyes. The expression that Sukuna could never say no to which annoyed him. He pursed his lips, averting his eyes as a rough hand lifted her off of him with ease. "You want me to cater your cravings like some servant?", he clicked his tongue. "If that was meant to be a joke, i'm not laughing. Goodnight".

Y/n let out a drawled out whine, hovering over his body so she could see his face. "Pleaseeeeee Ryo!!".

"Fuck no".

She huffed, finally giving up. Sukuna felt the bed rise a bit, signalling that she had gotten up. "Fine. I'll just do it myself".

A smirk grew on Sukuna's lips. Surely she was joking right? She would simply walk out for a few minutes then come back in. It wasn't like she knew how to work the damn thing anyway.

Still, Sukuna couldn't go back to sleep. He could only think about her. What if she hurt herself trying to work the barbecue or something?

He rolled his eyes. It wasn't his problem.

So why did he jolt up immediately when he heard a loud crash? He wasn't sure but his body started moving before his brain could even process what he was doing.

"Damn woman," he muttered, throwing the blanket off himself and storming out of the room. The chill of the night air seeped through the hallway as he moved quickly, his mind racing with scenarios he'd never admit he was worried about. He wasn't the type to care, not really—at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

"What did you do?", he noticed how she was shaking her fingers in the air, clearly looking for some relief for her aching digits.

"I accidentally closed the cover on my fingers..", she said in a small voice.

Sukuna stood for a moment until he went back inside, soaking a cloth in cold water and wringing out the excess before quickly going back out.

"You're an idiot", he grabbed her wrist and wrapped the cold cloth around her index and middle fingers. "And I just know that baby's tired of your ass, you never sit still".

Y/n giggled at his remark, smiling up at the king of curses who raised a brow. "What're you smiling at?".

"You care", she said simply.

"Tch. Whatever", he rolled his eyes for the nth time that night as he opened the barbecue.

Y/n's face lighted up. "Are you actually doing it? You're so sweet Ryomen!", she approached him, arms wrapping around his bicep, making sure the cloth doesn't slip from her grasp.

Sukuna furrowed his brow."Sit", he pointed to the chair to the side.

Y/n pouted. "I wanna watch you!".

"Do you want fat fucking feet again?".

She wasn't gonna tell him that standing up wasn't the main reason her feet swell. She would simply take in the fact that he truly did care for her wellbeing.

But one thing was for sure. That night, Sukuna had lost the idgaf war.

a/n: Help i haven’t written on here since July LOL ive been writing on wattpad, but requests are open!!

masterlist :)

[lolahauri]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ It's Your Sex I Can Smell

Ship: Ticci Toby/Reader

Type: GN/M, Explicit Smut, Part 1/3. (MDNI)

Contains: Invasion of Privacy, Masturbation, Scent Kink, Panty Raid, Underwear Kink, No Sex (yet).

Words: 1.6k

Part 2 (F/M Ver.): Here. Part 2 (M/M Ver.): Coming Soon

A/N: Finally finished Toby's dirty secret fic! Sorry it took like two months damn!! I swear part two will come out way sooner than that. 0-0

You walked out of your room in a hurry, quickly fixing your hair and sweatshirt. You only had a couple hours left in the day to sneak into town and grab some essentials for the house. You felt bad leaving Toby home alone, but you needed to be quick and undistracted, you hoped he’d be fine staying to help clean up a bit before Masky and Hoodie returned the next morning.

Walking down the hall and towards the door, you spotted him sitting at the table, finishing his lunch. You walked behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning down to his ear, “Hey Tobes, I gotta run some errands before the shops in town close. I’ll be back in a couple hours, m'kay?”

Toby simply hummed and nodded in response, you couldn’t tell from behind, but a nervous blush was spreading across his face. You smiled and turned to kiss his cheek before pulling away from his body entirely, making sure to say goodbye one more time as you headed out the door. He hated to admit it, but the simple action of a hug and kiss on the cheek from you had his blood running straight to his cock. 

It made him feel like such a loser, but he couldn’t help it. You’re just so fucking cute and sweet and affectionate with him, how could he not be a total simp for you? The hardness in his cock steadily grew, creating an uncomfortable tightness in the crotch of his pants. He tried to ignore it, he really did. But today he just couldn’t stop thinking about your beautiful body and hypnotizing voice. 

His mind was absolutely racing with dirty fantasies. Ranging from being on his knees and going down on you, to fucking you from behind like an animal in heat and being drowned in your moans. His cock was throbbing painfully now, it was getting unbearably hard to fight now. But, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to jerk off right? He was home alone now. You wouldn’t be back for at least 3 or 4 hours, and the other two were gone till tomorrow morning. There was total privacy. 

Toby leaned back in his chair, pushing his hips up to shift to a more comfortable position. He ran his hand over the bulge in his jeans, sighing from the small bit of relief. Throwing his head back, he continued to tease himself through his clothes, pretending it was your hand rubbing and grabbing on his hard cock. He slowly unzipped his pants, pulling them and his boxers down at an agonizingly slow rate. He wanted this to last as long as possible, not knowing the next time he’d have this sort of isolation again. 

As his cock was finally being released, Toby noticed something from the corner of his eye, it was your favorite hoodie hanging on the chair next to him. You must’ve forgotten to put it in the wash today. 

And just as he realized that, an idea sprung into his mind. Without thinking on it too much longer, he reached over, grabbing it and bringing it to his face. He took a deep inhale as he buried his nose in the cloth. Fuck, it still smelled just like you . 

It was an intoxicating mix of your natural scent, signature fragrance, and just a hint of sweat. Unconsciously, he ran his free hand back down to his crotch, grabbing it at the base and slowly beginning to stroke upwards, face still nuzzled into your hoodie. He groaned at the sensation, suddenly becoming aware of his body, and just how fucking horny he was. 

Toby started off with a slow, teasing pace. Steadily move his hand up and back down again, occasionally swiping his thumb across the tip, smearing his precum and using it as lube. His breathing was starting to get heavy, completely lost in pleasure as his continued to fantasize about you. He imagined you were still wearing this sweater, sitting in his lap and bouncing on his cock like a whore. He imagined how pretty you’d look in that state, sweat droplets building up on your face, mouth parted and flowing with whimpers and moans, hair messy and sticking to your forehead. 

Just thinking about how fucking good it would feel to completely stuff you with his cum nearly made him lose it right then and here. He’d give anything to watch it drip down your thighs and lick them clean right afterwards. 

He was beating his cock at a hard, fast rate now, high pitched moans escaping his throat and being absorbed by your clothing. He was getting dizzy from your scent now, a cloud of lust fogging his mind completely. Something this weird should not be feeling so good right now. 

But soon, he began to slow himself down to a complete halt. Toby lazily stuffed his cock back into his pants as he pulled them up a bit. Another idea was coming to him, a very, very stupid one. But he wasn’t thinking clearly, that much was obvious as he stood up and stumbled down the hall to your room.

What he was thinking to himself was simple, if you hadn’t put your favorite, most used sweatshirt in the wash already, then surely the rest of your used clothes must be untouched too? Which would mean your used underwear would be available, free to use as a replacement for your hoodie. Yes, it would be gross, and it would be a complete invasion of privacy... but if you never found out, it couldn’t hurt, right? 

Normally he wouldn’t even consider doing something like this to you, you’re his best friend. And yes, he was madly in love with you, but he also didn’t want to risk what you two already had, and it goes without saying, this could easily ruin what you two have.

He wasn’t in the right headspace to think that rationally though, he just couldn’t deny anymore that he’d always secretly dreamed of doing this. And if he couldn’t have you… maybe this would suffice… 

Toby carefully turned the knob of your door, testing to see if it was locked or not. Of course it wasn’t, you had no reason to do so, nobody ever went into your room anyway. Well, not that you were aware of at least.

He swiftly pushed through the entrance of your room and began to scan your room for a laundry basket. Sweet , it was right by your bed. Without even bothering to close the door behind him, he walked straight to the basket, shuffling through your clothes and looking for the first pair underwear he could find. 

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breathe as he lifted your underwear out of the pile. They were cute, and soft. The hardness in his pants twitched and throbbed at the sight, feeling a rush of anxiety and arousal course through his entire body. His hands were lightly trembling as he brought the used garment to his face, still clutching onto your hoodie as if you were still in it. 

Toby took a deep inhale, closing his eyes halfway and groaning. The scent was fresh and intoxicatingly musky, you must’ve just changed out of them before you left . Not wanting to waste any more time, he stood up from his kneeling position on the floor and crawled into your bed. He laid his head back onto your pillows and quickly took his cock out again. He immediately got to work, jerking himself off at a harsh, vigorous pace, twitching with every jolt of electricity being sent through his veins. 

His mouth and nose were fully covered by your underwear as he breathed in it’s scent. Savoring it like a fine wine, feeling almost drunk off of you when you weren’t even in the home. God, he wishes so badly he could have you sitting on his face right now. He wants you to use him, shame him, make him feel like the disgusting pervert he is. 

He sticks his tongue out to taste you on the clothing, letting out a pathetic whine right away. His back arches off of the bed as he repeatedly licks the fabric. He can feel himself getting close. No matter how hard he tries to edge himself, he can feel the pressure build up inside. 

Before he gets too close though, he hurriedly moves the panties to wrap them around his throbbing cock. He bites his lip so hard his teeth are threatening to break skin, watching himself use your underwear like a fleshlight. The soft, warm fabric was hugging his cock so nicely he just couldn’t hold back anymore. 

The pressure that had been building in his lower abdomen finally reached it’s breaking point. His muscles tensed momentarily before his orgasm began to erupt. He whimpered and moaned out loud as his body twitched and spasmed under his hand. A wave of ecstasy crashed over him so hard he nearly screamed. 

He stroked his cock one, two, three, four more times before he stopped. His breathing was labored and heavy as he tried to calm down. He soon felt the post-climax exhaustion hit him. His eyes half-lidded as he slowly went to remove the cum stained underwear from his lap, but he couldn’t get too far with the clean up before he was interrupted. 

“Having fun Toby? God, you're so fucking pathetic.” A loud voice said from the doorway, making him instantly wake up. Adrenaline coursed through every nerve and vein in his body, heart immediately racing. 

This can’t be fucking happening right now…

[vampiricgf]

— v. lycaon | stay soft, get eaten

·₊̣̇. ⊱ warnings: fem reader, dubcon, aphrodisiac, yandere, oral fem receiving, clit sucking, cervix fucking, knotting, creampie, extremely unrealistic depiction of sex, he calls you master n is a lil obsessed with you, not edited/proofread

wc: 2k+

the grip he has on me is insane now if only he'd be gripping up this [REDACTED] sobs

You were so lucky to have an attendant as well prepared as Lycaon. After spending the evening unable to sleep, angrily listening to birdsong as the light peeking in from the window grew less and less subdued, he had suggested you take a simple supplement and attempt a nap upon seeing you still laying in bed at his arrival. After all getting rest was the most important thing and if something would come up he could easily handle it for you without letting you rest excessively.

Just enough to be able to get through the day yet still feel appropriately tired come night, that was what he promised after handing a small tablet to you which you gratefully accepted. Lycaon had been sweet and thoughtful from the moment he started at your estate with the Victoria Housekeeping contract, and was always so adamant about remaining at your side.

When the room begins to soften at the edges you don't question it, it may be a mild effect from the pill or your own deprived brain. Focusing on the beat of your heart was easier, keeping your eyes closed as you remained tucked into bed. A heaviness spread through your limbs, delicious and reminiscent of a sleepy cat in the honeyed afternoon sun as you roll onto your back to stretch against the warm sheets.

The brush of them against your skin sends an unfamiliar sort of heat spreading beneath the surface of your body, an odd feeling of wishing it was replaced with physical touch, yearning suddenly for a certain thiren that you knew wouldn't be far from your bedroom.

You try ignoring the growing ache between your thighs, uncomfortably turning over and over from side to side as the temperature rises. Before long you have to thrash the covers off to rest barely covering your legs, nearly panting with the volatile mixture of desire and no sleep.

Thinking of calling for him you bite your bottom lip, a small whimper coming from low in your throat. As you struggle with the inappropriateness of the urge little do you know he's just opposite the bedroom door, listening intently to you with barely contained self satisfaction thrumming through his veins.

It's hardly appropriate for an attendant to be pining after their master, but say you were feeling struck by some overpowering need, what kind of attendant would he be to refuse if you begged for his help? Truly he'd done it on a whim, it just so happened that today was the perfect opportunity to act and perhaps it was simply fate.

"Master?"

His voice jolts you out of the thick fog of lust as he steps through the doorway, unable to bear the sounds of you whimpering for him any longer. With quick steps he's beside you, a hand coming to rest delicately against your forehead which nearly makes you moan from the contact. Your skin glistened with a sheen of sweat and the scent of your arousal was heady in the balmy air, if he were less composed it would've made him drool instantly.

"Are you ill?" Faux concern laces the words as his eyes trail from your face to your heaving chest, your top having bunched up just beneath your breasts was a tantalizing challenge to his self control.

"I can't sleep- feels like I'm on fire," you whine, your eyes fluttering closed and he's grateful for the chance to ogle you openly.

"Do you require my help?" The tone of the question leaves little room for interpretation, the almost breathy way he asks betraying how clear your neediness is to him.

It should make you embarrassed, you should wave him away with a demure no I'll be fine but you can't bring yourself to speak the words aloud, nearly choking on how much you ache for him to touch you again. In a distant corner of your disconnected mind you wonder if thirens can smell things like arousal and perhaps that's why he offered. It makes your thighs clench together hard, the muscles flexing beneath the skin. How lucky you were to have someone so dedicated to attending to your needs that he'd even offer.

"Wouldn't be- appropriate-" you force the words out between deep breaths, desperately trying to regain some self control as your eyes find his.

He looked so handsome knelt by your bed, his singular visible eye shining with concern. You want to smooth the worry from his face with a hundred deep, frantic kisses, so powerful is the urge it's more like being gripped by madness.

"You don't need to worry, as my master I can't let you remain in this state without intervention." The words are so syrupy sweet to your ears, his voice low and sending delightful shivers down your spine.

If he's saying it's okay then why worry about impropriety? Once again you can't help the surge of thankfulness at his presence and his loyalty to you.

Gingerly he grasps your hand in his much larger one, bringing your arm up before placing the softest kiss to your inner wrist. The sensation of his lips against your skin is enough to make you squirm, back arching slightly just from the barest contact.

"Mm, don't know what's wrong with me," you breathe harshly as his mouth maps a trail from your wrist up your arm, your shoulder, and before you register it he's above you and those clawed hands are roaming the overheated skin of your stomach and it feels like every sense you have is being overcrowded by him.

If you had the wherewithall you would have perhaps been ashamed to be so openly writhing and moaning beneath him with your hands fisting in the material of his shirt but given the way he makes you feel like you'll crack apart in the next millisecond there was simply no room for things like humiliation or shame.

"Will you let me help you, my master?"

The request is accompanied by the feeling of him sucking on the side of your neck, sharp teeth barely ghosting over the delicate flesh he could easily rip. Why does everything feel so much more sensitive than usual? If you could think straight it would be a more pertinent question, but against the feeling of his hands cupping your breasts and urging you to help him remove your shirt the concern washes away like sugar in hot water.

In a way Lycaon is glad for your habit of wearing little to nothing in bed, because it feels like this is exactly what you wanted to happen. Each evening it was like the single greatest test of his resolve to not immediately give in to the urge that screamed to rip those skimpy clothes off you and fuck you until your pretty eyes were full of tears and that tongue of yours was only good for sounding out his name.

And he hadn't lied earlier, not fully. That pill would help you with your sleeping troubles eventually but the less than mild aphrodisiac effects would kick in first. It's no concern though, because that's what he's here for, to service you as his master. And so what if it happens to be a shockingly convenient avenue for satisfying his own desires? Who could blame a devoted attendant for loving their master so greatly?

As you shift your hips impatiently he's all too eager to indulge you, hooking a hand beneath your thigh and pushing one leg up in order to slot himself better between your legs and feel the tantalizing heat radiating from the apex of your thighs.

You can feel the way his bulge throbs against you through your clothes and it's exciting, like his body is begging for just the same release as yours and his movements have taken on a more predatory tinge- caging your body with his forearms on either side of your head now, nipping and sucking at your bottom lip in between sloppy kisses and the rhythmless, frantic grinding of his hips against yours.

"Want you, please," it leaves your lips as a pathetically desperate whine as you roll your hips to meet his in a pantomime of unclothed thrusts. Feeling his erection strain against layers of clothing has only served to make you feel even more delirious, like you're on fire and he's all that could hope to put it out.

"Like this?" The question is needy, nakedly desperate and it makes your fingers claw against his soft fur, pulling him down to kiss you again in a flurry of teeth and tongues.

You give an airy mhm and his head dips down to your chest with a particularly sinful groan, teeth ghosting over the swell of your breast before his hands are on you again, nearly ripping the flimsy pajama bottoms off of you in his haste to get you undressed and knowing you're so impossibly close to finding relief for the all consuming ache in your body makes you sigh contentedly for the first time as the air brushes against your clammy skin.

His movements are quick, snaking down on his belly and brushing his nose against the skin of your inner thighs. You can hear the deep inhale he takes, feel the way your body flushes hot in response. His hands run up and down your feverish skin, riling you up and when his tongue licks a fat stripe all the way up your flesh until his face is pressed against your pussy you can't help the way you moan his name so brokenly, a sound more akin to cracking porcelain.

And it's then that his self restraint seems to snap cleanly in two, his claws nearly digging into your thighs, nose bumping against your achingly puffy clit as his tongue delved inside your soaked entrance. It was impossible, feeling him as deeply as you were and he wasn't even using his fingers. Your own twisted into the bedsheets so hard they should have torn, your mouth open as your hips bucked wildly against his face.

Soon enough he held one arm across your hips to pin you down and lessen your squirming, alternating between lapping at your clit and sucking on it, his sharp canines occasionally brushing dangerously against the sensitive bundle of nerves. With every drag of his tongue it felt like a coil winding back tighter and tighter inside your gut, hands fumbling to touch any part of him you could grasp as he retained his unrelenting pace never wavering in the attention he lavished your pussy with.

And all too soon he's pulling away from you, leaving you to keen high and pathetic at the loss of him, panicked eyes frantically locked on his figure as he drags himself back up to face you. Before you can whine too much he's shushing you with a deep, languid kiss and giving you the secondhand aftertaste of yourself on his tongue. For a brief moment you wonder if you've died and this is the afterlife: one long satisfaction of desire.

"I don't mean to tease, but I need you in another manner master." And you don't need to to ask what he means, feeling what must be his painfully hard erection rubbing against your bare, soaked cunt. Thrilled eagerness skips like electricity through your bloodstream, already rolling your hips to beg for it before your mouth even opens.

And like the wonderful attendant he is Lycaon obliges before you have to say a word. His hands deftly shed his clothes, now rumpled and twisted, before discarding them on the floor in a heap. Your bottom lip catches so hard between your teeth at the sight of him it's a miracle you don't draw blood.

Even in your most vivid fantasies there's simply no way you could capture just how gorgeous he was, and you can feel your eyes widen as they settle on the sight of his now freed cock. The tapered tip, flushed red and needy, glistening with precum, the girth of him enough to make your eyes water, and the length promising that he can easily kiss that spot inside you that turns your vision to static.

You could start drooling from how badly you need him inside you, a fresh wave of overzealous longing battering against your mind like waves against a rocky coastline. As he leans down, supporting himself on one forearm beside your head you meet his eyes again, seeing an amused look on his face that made you squirm in embarrassment at being caught so openly admiring him.

The scent of arousal and sweat is so thick in the air even you can catch it, it must be driving him insane. The thought nearly makes you giggle but the press of him against your entrance cuts off any sound you could hope to make, mouth left hanging open as he starts the slow press inside. Tears instantly push against your waterline, threatening to spill both from the painful adjustment to his size and because nobody has ever made you feel so full before.

He's barely midway inside and you're already panting, chest heaving as you mewl out his name and grab onto his shoulders like he's the only stable thing in the world. Your fingers find purchase in his soft, snowy fur and as his swollen, fat knot settles against your entrance you feel a rush of the most perfect bliss. Like you two were made for each other.

The delirious thought takes root as he kisses his way from your lips to your jaw, down your throat before giving you a few gentle nips with his teeth just to make you gasp and tighten your grip on him before he begins moving.

His pace is slow, almost loving, as you feel every vein as he pulls out only to inch back inside you with ease now thanks to your excess of arousal mingling with his saliva. You can't help the way your toes curl against nothing but the air as you move to grab onto your own thighs, desperate already to feel him deeper and once again, Lycaon follows your whims dutifully.

You can't help but cry out incoherently as he presses into you again and again, the head of his cock hitting so far inside you it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

But it's still not enough, and you feel that coil resume it's firm windback into position, almost ready to spring.

"Please, feels so good," you gasp out, "need more- harder -" you squeal with a particularly deep thrust against your cervix and ever the gentleman he doesn't make you ask again.

Groaning low and gravelly he cages you fully with his forearms, burying his snout into the side of your neck as the obscene sounds of skin slapping and the squelching of your greedy cunt drown out anything else. Distantly you hear his claws ripping through the sheets but you can't be bothered to care, not when he's got tears running down your cheeks and your pussy clamping down on his so hard, desperate to keep him inside.

You can feel him throbbing as you curl your fingers deeper into his fur, crying out his name as the tension inside your belly reaches a head, making your eyes screw shut and your head press back against the pillows.

His own ragged breathing doesn't register to you, so lost in the throughs of your own orgasm, but his teeth are gritted, bared in a silent snarl feeling the way you clamp down, the way your walls rhythmically try milking him for all he's worth and in an instinct driven haze his hips move in an even more brutal pace, sure to leave bruises against your tender flesh as the maddening need to cum inside you overwhelms him.

There's no way he could stop himself now and he muffles your cries with sloppy, apologetic kisses, tasting the tang of saltwater as his knot finally pushes it's way in, sitting securely against the ring of muscle at your entrance and he can't stop himself from saying your name against your lips, again and again like a mantra as thick, warm spurts of cum drown your womb.

You remain locked together, you a mess of hiccuping moans and shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm and him grinding against you as if he could still fuck more of his cum even further inside you.

Your ankles shakily lock around his hips and one of his arms slides under your back, hand finding it's way down to grope and squeeze your ass as he whispers to you, words of thanks for indulging him and for allowing him to be of service that swirl dreamily around in your head as your fingers start gingerly stroking against his silky fur, soothing the spots you had twisted and tugged.

In a far away corner of your mind you recognize that this is the first time he's ever used your name to address you. It makes you smile, small and twinged with sleep. You know once he's no longer inside you he'll adamantly clean you up, move you to a different space and ensure you can sleep comfortably while h tidies your wrecked bed.

But another part of you wonders if you could convince him to forgo it all and just stay like this, warm and tangled together.

Maybe if you ask sweetly.

[darnell-la]

how about dark-stepdad!logan and human!female-reader? Like logan just marry her mom so that he can easily get all nasty and pervy with her daughter👀

note: our most active author's birthday was yesterday, so we’ve been pretty busy. we apologize for the gap in our posting but trust me, we have a lot of posts coming. stay tuned!

———

“It’s my big day today, sweet pee,” Logan walked into y/n’s room without knocking. “Hmm?” Y/n asked as she covered herself up and placed her phone to the side.

“I said, it’s my big day today,” Logan repeated himself as he closed and locked her room door. “Room’s coming along. You like it here, princess?” He asked as he made his way over to the young lady.

“Yeah, but I’ll be moving out soon into my dorm. Did you know that mom-“ y/n went to say before Logan cut her off. “About that, sweetheart. Been meaning to talk to you,”

Logan sat down on y/n’s bed, facing her as she covered herself. She was in her laced gown since she had just woken up. She wraps her robe around her whenever she needs to leave the room.

“I can’t lie, but I’ve been a little sad lately,” Logan said, hand rubbing her cover as she grew confused. “Why?” She asked, hoping the wedding he and her mom had just had yesterday, wasn’t a mistake.

“I feel like it’s shitty of your old man, but I’ve just been thinking about me and your mom. Not just since last night, but even before,” the man said, making y/n look down. She liked Mister Howlett and didn’t want him to leave like the rest.

“I’ve just been distracted. Been distracted for years with your mother, but I’ve yet to act on it,” he said. “What’s been distracting you? Maybe my mom or I could help you,” Logan chuckled low as she softly shook his head.

“Oh, you can help me, bub,” Logan’s hand slowly traveled up her thigh, through her covers. “Just had to secure everything before I made a move,” the man said as he tugged on her covers.

“I-I’m not dressed appropriately,” y/n said. “Hey, we’re all family here, right? I don’t think it’ll be a big deal if your stepdad sees his girl,” y/n’s hands loosened, thinking to herself that it should be fine.

“There ya go. Been thinkin’ about you all night, you know? As soon as that ring was placed on my finger, I knew I had you,”

Y/n was confused about what her stepfather was saying as his hand rubbed her bare thigh. “You’ve grown up, bub. Dressed all pretty and rich. You like daddy's money?” He asked her, catching her off guard because she’d never called him dad.

“Y-Yes,” she stuttered as his hand came up to her face, allowing a finger to rub down her lip. “Yes, what, princess?” He asked. “Y-Yes, daddy,” she said, knowing that was what he wanted to hear.

“Good girl,” Logan sat up and climbed under the covers, pulling her body to lay fully so how could hover over his stepdaughter.

“M-Mister Howlett, what are you doing?” Y/n asked, hands on her chest since she had no idea where to put them. She was confused and shocked by his words and touches.

“Ssh, ssh, now. Don’t wanna wake your mom,” Logan said as his finger hooked around her panties. “Mister Howlett! I-I can’t do that,” y/n took one hand to grab his wrist, but he stopped her by pinning it next to her head.

“Nah uh! You lay still,” the man demanded as he continued pulling her panties down her legs until they were off. “Pretty little panties. Always wanted to go underwater shopping with you,” the man said as he took them to his nose.

Logan sniffed hard, taking in every last drop she had let soak into the laces overnight.

“Sweet,” Logan spoke before placing them in his sweatpants pocket. “Mister Howlett, please. I-I can’t do this to my mother,” y/n said, eyes already glossy from the size over her. He was intimidating.

“It’s okay, princess. She won’t know. I promise she won’t,” Logan said as he reached into his sweats to pull out his cock. When he did, y/n felt her heart skin.

She’s had sex before. Multiple times, but Logan was huge, and her mother’s husband. He was her stepdad.

“It’s okay, don’t run,” Logan gripped y/n’s waist to pull her back into him. “Just relax, and it’ll go smoothly. Needa trains you for future days,” Logan said. He wanted to do this more often.

“N-No, Mister Howlett! I-I can’t do this,” y/n went to roll off of the bed, but the man wrapped a hand around her neck, choking slightly so she wouldn’t be able to get out of his hold.

“You’re gonna lay right here and take it. You’re too grown to be worried about your mommy,” Logan pouted at the end as he moved in between her legs. “Logan stop!” Y/n yelled at the man, which surprised him.

The man disconnected his hand from her neck and slapped it over her mouth, preventing any other stupid action from coming from her.

“Gonna have you punish you for that,” Logan harshly pushed at y/n’s entrance, fighting his way through her until her walls fully covered him.

The young lady cried in his hand, feeling an instant pressure grow in her stomach. His size was forcing an orgasm to rip from her system.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight, bub,” Logan said with a rough tone, snapping him instantly to feel her cunt coat his cock. She was a leaking mess.

“L-Logan!” Y/n tried clawing at the man’s chest, but that didn’t phase him. “Fuck, baby- You keep doin’ that, and ima get angry,”

Y/n continued as the pleasure built throughout her body. She couldn’t help the moans that escaped.

For a second, she thought about stopping and letting him take over her body. She felt too good to keep her act up, but she didn’t want to be too easy. She was embarrassed by how good her stepfather made her feel.

So y/n fought harder. Scratching the man aggressively and surprisingly pulling blood. “Fuuuuck!” The man groaned loudly as he gripped y/n’s mouth.

Y/n wanted to keep scratching and make the man stop, but she froze once she saw something she’d never seen before. The man’s wounds healed right in front of her face. It’s like she never scratched him.

“Didn’t want you to find out his way, baby,” Logan spoke after a long pause of silence. The man leaned down, getting closer to her face as he thrusted in her slowly.

“I’m one of those mutants from back then, but that shouldn’t be a problem. All that means is that I can take care of you. I’m the only one that can, sweetheart,”

Logan buried his face into the young girl's neck as she tilted her head back, allowing him to suck. “Gonna treat my little girl so good,” Logan mumbled as y/n slightly wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him close to her body.

Y/n couldn’t think about her mother anymore. Not while Logan was all inches deep in her, twitching and ready to cum. She stayed his good girl for the morning and whenever else he needed her to be.

[cloudybarnes]

new beginnings

Pairing: theodore nott x reader

Summary: after theo very unexpectantly breaks up with you, you try your best to pick yourself back up and move on. theo, on the other hand, seems to be having a harder time of that.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Masterlist

part two :)

✰  ✰  ✰

“(Y/N), you’ve got to get out of bed at some point.” Hermione said. She was sitting on the side of your bed while you laid fully wrapped under the covers. Hermione gently tugged the blanket down from your chin, but you whined a little in protest. 

“‘Mione, I seriously can’t do this yet.”

Theo, your boyfriend of over a year had broken up with you only a few short days ago. You’d been in bed ever since, heartbroken over what could have been. 

“(Y/N), I know you’re upset, but you have to get up. I can’t let you live the rest of your life in bed! Don’t you know how badly your bum would hurt from laying all of your life?” Hermione joked. 

A small smile grew on your lips. “Yeah, that would be pretty tragic. I have too nice of a butt to let that happen.”

Hermione laughed. “There she is! I’ve missed your little jokes. Ron and Harry have become quite boring without you around. I think they’re worried about you.” 

You groaned. “Nooo. I hate when people worry about me. It’s just so awkward when I have to be like ‘I’m fine’, ‘no really, I’m fine’.”

Hermione shrugged. “Well, are you?”

You sighed, pulling the covers down from your chin. You looked up at her, a forlorn look on your face. “Definitely not, but I suppose you’re right. I don’t want to be stuck in here for the rest of my life. I just, I just don’t think I can handle seeing him right now.”

Hermione looked at you sadly. “I know. I hate seeing you so upset like this. God, what I would do to put a hex on that boy. He’s quite deserving of it, I would say. Maybe a rat’s tail, or a snake tongue.”

You giggled and sat up in bed. “Or how about we make him bald, or worse, blonde.” 

Hermione laughed at that. “Oh, Godric, then we’d have another Draco running around. I don’t think I could handle that.”

“Me either,” you laughed. Slowly, your smile dropped. “I just hate him. Well, no, I don’t hate him. And I hate that! I hate that even after breaking my heart I still love him and long for him.”

Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry, (Y/N/N), I wish I could say something or do something to make this better, I just really don’t know what.”

You shrugged, “yeah, it is what it is. It’s not your fault he’s an ass.”

She chuckled. “So, what do you say? You wanna try to get down to the great hall before dinner starts? I’m sure the guys would like to see you again.” 

You thought it over for a minute. You really had missed your friends. Other than Hermione, you’d ostracized yourself from everyone just to avoid Theo. 

But were you really ready to see him again? You didn’t think you would ever be ready to see him again. 

“You know what,” you stated, “I am gonna go to dinner tonight. And I’m gonna ignore him and see my friends who I’ve missed and ignore the hell out of him because he’s an ass and why should I be the one who has to stay in bed all day?”

“Woohoo!” Hermione cheered. “You’re amazing, let’s get you showered and dressed. I hate to say it, but if you’re gonna get back into the world, you need to wash your hair.” 

You chuckled as you picked up a piece of hair to inspect it. “Yeah, okay. Shower first, look really pretty, eat dinner, come back. Piece of cake.” 

You pushed the covers off of you as Hermione stood from the bed. 

She said, “I’m gonna grab your clothes, so just get in the shower. We shouldn’t be too late to dinner that way.”

You nodded and headed to the bathroom. You were gonna go in there, socialize with your friends, reassure them you were fine, and everything would go back to normal. You hoped. 

✰  ✰  ✰

“(Y/N)!” Ginny shouted as you and Hermione made it to the Gryffindor table. She stood up from her seat and pulled you right into a hug. 

Releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding, you smiled and held her even tighter in the hug. Ginny was an amazing friend to you. She had tried her best to see you, but you didn’t let anyone in. Only Hermione since she shared the room with you. 

Pulling away, Ginny dragged you to sit down next to her. Hermione followed suit and sat on the other side of you. “Oh, we’ve missed you so much, (Y/N/N). We’ve all been so worried about you, haven’t we?”

Harry and Ron sat across from you. They both nodded their heads, agreeing with Ginny. 

“Yeah, what an ass,” Ron scoffed. “Honestly, someone needs to knock that bloke down from his high horse. He doesn’t know what he’s missing, (Y/N/N).”

“Yeah,” Harry replied as he pushed some mashed potatoes in his mouth. “Theodore is a walking red flag. I for one am not sorry for him. He lost a good girl and he’s gonna regret what he’s done.”

You smiled at them. “Yeah, I am pretty awesome. Thanks guys.”

They chuckled and continued eating. Merlin knows those two could eat an entire quidditch field full of food. 

“Ahem,” a throat cleared from behind you. 

Turning around, you saw Enzo standing there sheepishly. 

“Uh,” he stuttered, “hey, (Y/N).” 

“Oh,” you said. “Uh, hi Enzo. Do you need something?” You couldn’t hide the crack in your voice. Damn it.

Enzo was probably your favorite of Theo's friends. He was always the one you had most in common with, and therefore connected with pretty easily. You’d never hung out one on one, so you couldn’t really say he was your friend. 

“I-no I don’t need something, per say. I just wanted to talk to you. Alone, if, uh, that’s alright.” 

You looked back at your friends, unsure if you should talk with him or not. They all seemed to be the same amount of weary as you were, but you were intrigued. 

“I don’t really want to talk to Theo, if that’s what this is.”

Enzo shook his head. “No! Ahem, no. I wanted to talk to you. To, uh, apologize kind of? I don’t know. It’s fine if you don’t wanna talk to me, this was silly, I’m sorry-“

“It’s fine, Enzo,” you cut off his rambling. “I’ll speak with you.” You looked back at your friends as you stood up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

They nodded their heads as you let Enzo lead you away from the table and out the door. 

Once you two stood out in the hallway, Enzo kind of just shuffled his feet around, almost as if he was shying away from talking to you. 

“Am I supposed to say something first?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“No, sorry,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just feel a little awkward. I know what happened between you and Theo, but I guess I just hoped that didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends anymore.”

Your eyes softened a little at his confession. Enzo’s cheeks blushed a little as you stared at him. 

You sighed. You and Enzo really had been good friends, and you weren’t exactly keen on losing his friendship. 

“I mean,” he continued, “you’re the only one who doesn’t make fun of my poetry, you’re the one I go to when I want to talk about books or get recommendations from, and I just would hate to lose our friendship just because I’m friends with Theo as well.”

Your heart melted. “Enzo, of course I still want to be friends with you. I will admit, I was a little nervous you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore after Theo broke up with me. I really enjoy being your friend.”

Enzo smiled in relief. “Oh good. I thought this would be more awkward and a little bit more sad than how it’s actually going.”

You giggled. “Thank god. I don’t know what I would have done if I just had a real breakup as well as a friendship breakup.”

Enzo smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I am really sorry about that. I don’t know why he would ever break up with you in the first place. You’re so kind, and I thought you brought the best out in him.”

You forced an awkward smile. You really did not want to be talking about Theo right now, especially not about how you made him a better person. 

Before you could reply, a voice yelled out from behind you. 

“Oi!”

Turning around, you could see Theo storming up towards you and Enzo. 

“What the fuck, mate?” Theo huffed as he got in between you and Enzo. 

“Woah!” You shouted, backing up as Theo got up into Enzo’s face.  “Theo, what are you doing?”

He ignored you and kept talking to Enzo. “Are you hitting on my girlfriend? Right after all the shit we just went through?”

“What?” Enzo squeaked. “I’m not hitting on her, I was just talking to her.”

You were pissed. Your fists balled up at your sides as you stomped up to Theo. You grabbed onto his shoulder and yanked him away from Enzo. Theo didn’t see it coming, so he stumbled and fell back a couple of steps. 

“Get the hell away from him,” you growled. “And what the fuck is wrong with you, Theodore?” 

You got between Theo and Enzo, pushing your finger into your ex-boyfriend’s chest accusingly. 

“First,” you said, “you break up with me, break my heart, and then you have the fucking nerve to come up here all righteous and accuse Enzo of whatever the fuck you said, all while calling me your girlfriend when you’re the asshole who broke up with me!”

You glared at Theo, watching as his anger turned soft. “I am not your girlfriend anymore, Theodore Nott. You’re the one who made that happen, so you have no fucking right to come up in my conversations acting like I owe you anything.” 

“(Y/N),” he softly said. “I… I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have come out here all crazy. I just, I hate seeing you with anyone else, even if it’s one of my friends.” 

He turned to talk to Enzo, “I’m sorry, mate. Will you give us a few minutes?” 

Enzo nodded his head and gave you an awkward smile before heading back into the dining hall. 

You huffed, settling down a little as you stared at Theo. 

He looked tired. His eyes had circles underneath them, and his cheeks didn’t have their usual flush to them. He was as gorgeous as ever, but he looked drained. 

“You don’t look so good,” you pointed out, trying to sound nonchalant. 

Theo frowned and softly said, “neither do you.”

Your lips pulled tight in a frown. Theo didn’t need to know how much he had affected you with the breakup. 

You sighed, “what are you doing, Theo?”

He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “I, uh, I’m not really sure. I just didn’t like seeing you with Enzo.”

“Why? You broke up with me.”

Theo huffed, “I don’t know. I just don’t like seeing you with anyone else. It still feels like I’m supposed to be there. Like I’m supposed to be the one with you. I miss you.”

You shook your head as hurt started to creep back into your heart. “Don’t say things like that to me, Theo. Not after what you did. I loved you, and you broke up with me out of nowhere for no good reason, either.”

“I’m sorry,” he tried to reach for you, but you shrugged off his hand. “I don’t know why I did what I did. I just know that I regret it like crazy. I want to be with you, (Y/N). I’ve always wanted to be with you, I was stupid to let you go. Can you forgive me?”

Your lips pulled tight. “Theo, I can’t just get back with you like this.” You said. “I don’t trust you anymore. You broke my heart, and broke my trust. You gave me no reason for the breakup, so who’s to say it won’t happen right after we get back together?”

He shook his head. “Dolcezza, no. I won’t do that to you, not again. What can I do to prove this to you?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t get back with you. Not like this, and not so soon. You really hurt me, Theo.”

“Well, what if we try being friends at least?” He suggested. 

“You wanna be my friend?”

“No,” he said immediately. “But I’ll settle for being your friend for as long as it takes to win you back.” 

Your heart warmed at what he had said. Maybe you could try being friends with him. He did really hurt you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. 

“Okay,” you decided, “I’ll give you a chance to be my friend. Don’t hurt me again, Theodore, or I’ll get Ginny on you.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get my baby back. I can promise you that.” 

[evnseokz]

how bout overstim with jongseong. like u and him had an argument (it was ur fault) so to make it up to him, for the first in ur relationship, u make the first move. teasing him the moment u two got in the car then seducing him even more when u got home, making him cum more than once and not stopping until he gives u his forgiveness

pairing: jay x reader

contents: reader takes lead, overstimulation, reader is a lil mean at the end, handjob, kissing, making out, pet name: baby, hopefully that’s all!

a.n: ty for the request! i had fun writing this and it ended up longer than i wanted it to be 😭 w.c 1.1k

deep down, you knew you were being irrational, overreacting over something that wasn’t even a real issue. but instead of apologizing, you just grew more frustrated, crossing your arms tighter across your chest.

the drive home was quiet. jay’s usually easygoing demeanor had shifted into a defensive silence, and you could feel the distance between you growing with every minute that passed. jays knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, and his brows furrowed as he drove. you took notice of this, guilt immediately creeping in.

“jay,” you trailed off, but he didn’t respond, eyes staying focused on the road in front of him. you reached out, hand landing on his thigh. his eyes darted to your hand for only a moment before they were back on the road. “jay, i’m sorry. please look at me,” you pouted, but jay wasn’t letting up. you internally rolled your eyes. fine— if he didn’t want to forgive you, you would make him forgive you. your hand remained on his thigh for the rest of the ride home, ideas plotting in your mind.

when you finally got home, you immediately ran upstairs to slip into something a little more comfortable. you grab one of jays t-shirts, stripping yourself of your own clothes and replacing them with it. you hear his footsteps approaching, and your plan immediately sets into action. you quickly scurry over to the bookshelf, leaning up on your tippy toes as if you were trying to reach something, allowing his t-shirt to ride up, exposing your plump ass. the door opens, jay’s presence filling the room immediately. his breath catches in his throat when he first notices you, eyes scanning up and down your figure. he begins to approach you, and just when you think he’s going to stop, he continues his strides straight past you and into the bathroom. well that didn’t work.

you huff to yourself, arms crossing as you sit yourself on the edge of the bed. you hear water running and use this time to devise another plan. 

some time passes before jay is out of the bathroom, and here goes plan b. jay comes out in nothing but his boxers and a t-shirt, coming over to settle on his side of the bed. your eyes follow his every move, yet his don’t meet yours once. “jay,” you pouted, “please look at me.” you were practically begging at this point. when he doesn’t respond yet again, you crawl over to him, perching yourself atop his lap, legs straddling either side of him. he has to look at you now. 

his eyes only meet yours for a split second before he’s looking down, as if you weren’t even there. you lean in, placing a kiss on his cheek and down his neck. "please, baby.." your tone is desperate, but there's a dominant fire in your gaze. sinister thoughts clouding your mind. he still doesn’t reply, but he moves his head slightly to one side, letting you have more access to the skin of his neck. you smirk to yourself; you knew he couldn’t resist you. your hands trail up his stomach to his chest, ultimately perching on his shoulders as you feel him up. your lips work expertly on his neck, moving to kiss and suck at his adam’s apple. this causes a small groan to leave jays lips, a tent beginning to form underneath his boxers.

your plan is working. you lips trail back up to his face, stopping right at the corner of his mouth before pulling away to devote your attention elsewhere. your hands leave his shoulders, fingers dancing down his torso and stopping at the waistband of his boxers. you toy with the hem, teasing him, hoping to get another reaction out of him. you feel him tense up underneath you as your fingers dip underneath to pull down the garment. his breath hitches in his throat when his rock-hard cock springs free, a light blush coating his cheeks, obviously embarrassed with how easily turned on he was. 

you chuckle to yourself, bringing your hand down to his cock. his hands fly to your thighs once you begin stroking him slowly, fingertips digging into your bare skin. you sigh as you continue stroking his cock, which is pulsing underneath your touch. “you’re mine. only mine,” you coo as you bring your thumb up to swipe over his sensitive tip, applying light pressure. his hips buck into your hand. “do you honestly think i could possibly want anyone else when this is what you do to me?” jay finally speaks up, sighing as pleasure takes over his senses. your head snaps up, surprise and accomplishment filling you as you realize you finally got him to properly acknowledge you. 

your strokes on his cock have quickened, bringing him over the edge faster than he’d like to admit, and as his hips buck into your hands and his cum shoots out onto your hand, you don’t slow down one bit. his hips stutter, his fingertips digging even harder into your skin as whines start to escape his lips. “y/n,” he breathes, “t-too much.”

you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, ignoring him completely while you continue your ministrations on his length. his head is thrown back; overstimulation is oh so apparent. he can’t control how quickly he cums all over again, thick white ropes coating your hand, but you don’t mind the mess, once again not giving him a break as you continue to stroke him. tears begin to form in his eyes as a choked sob leaves his lips. “y/n, p-please, i forgive y-you,” he pleads. satisfaction coats your lips, but you aren’t ready to let up yet, recalling his stubbornness with you earlier.

“cmon baby, you have one more in you, don’t you?” you coo, a smirk splaying on your lips as you reach up with your free hand to wipe a stray tear from his cheek. you slow your movements just slightly, feeling a little bit bad for him as he shakes beneath you, pathetic whimpers leaving his lips. you lean in, capturing his lips in yours, giving him a distraction from the overwhelming pleasure he’s feeling. it’s not long before he’s cuming all over again, hips stuttering as his legs shake and incoherent babbles fall against your lips. you finally remove your hand from his cock, pulling away from his lips at the same time. his eyelids are heavy, his cheeks are flushed, and his lips are swollen. he looks so fucked out, and you love it. you cradle his head in your clean hand, caressing his cheek with your thumb. 

“not nice to be ignored, is it?”

.

..

…