#and you couldn't have said it better yourself

[nanamisgirly]

your dilf doesn't need 'perfect'　ྀི　

“w-wait—” you were panting, legs wrapped around his hips where dilf!nanami straddled you on the countertop. you pull back just as his mouth dragged open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

you don't remember how exactly you ended up there, how things turned from soft touches over dinner to a heavy make out session—tongue sliding between your lips, big hands pressing you against his chest. 

it's been months of holding back for both of you—resuming your relation to slow touches, soft kisses, and ‘no pressure sweetheart’ every time things started getting heavy. since you weren't experienced and kind of…scared, dilf!nanami suggested waiting til you're ready. and you've been grateful for it, even when you returned home some night aching and soaked from just making out with him.

and maybe all the courage you gathered to tug him in by his tie tonight and kiss him like you were desperate for it, had drained from your veins the moment you felt one of his hand sliding up your thigh and the other slipping under your shirt—hot, rough, calloused.

“did i go too far?” he asked, one hand still under your shirt, fingers hovering just under the band of your bra, not moving an inch. “it's okay. you don't need to explain. we can stop, sweetheart.” his lips were swollen—covered with spit. his eyes glassy and you could feel the weight of his cock pressing against your shorts.

“no—! no… i want to,” you blurted out too quickly, voice overlapping his, desperate not to be misunderstood. but even as you said it, you couldn't bring yourself to look at him in the eyes, so you turn your head, letting your hands rest on his broad shoulders as you continue, 

“it's just…” you exhaled, shame blooming fast in your chest. “i'm not confident about. . y'know.” you gesture vaguely toward your boobs. “they look nice in a bra and—uh…you've probably seen better. i know they look big in a bra, but they don't, well…stay up. they're soft, and…” your voice tightens. “i just…i've read things. about guys saying they were disappointed. or didn't want to even see them during the act, unless they were covered—” you laugh nervously, voice cracking. “it's so embarrassing. i-i didn't want you to see them and think—think they're…ugly.”

the silence that followed felt unbearable.

it only makes your anxiety grow and you feel so dumb for talking about it, maybe you should just have stopped and that's it…because nanami didn't move an inch since your little monologue, his honey eyes still trying to catch your gaze. 

your stomach drops. you start to shift trying to get off the counter, anything to escape mortification. “look, i'm sorry,” you say, heart pounding, eyes glassy. “i-i shouldn't have brought it up, i—umh—it's ok. i just thought that'd be nice to tell you before hand and huh…fuck i ruined everything didn't i?”

that's when you feel his hands coming to your hips, pinning you in place on the countertop. you gasp as he presses his cock against your core harder than ever—twitching with need.

when you looked up, his eyes had darkened. his brows were furrowed, jaw tight, emotion bleeding into every sharp line of his face. “that,” he said flatly, “is the stupidest fucking thing i've ever heard.”

your breath hitched.

“i'm not a boy with a warped idea of what women are supposed to look like.” he leaned in, cupping your jaw to be sure your eyes stay locked onto his. “i'm a grown man. you think i'm painfully hard, grinding against you, shaking, because i'm waiting for something ‘perfect’? sweetheart, i'm here, aching because it's you. all of you that i want.”

his voice was low, frayed. barely holding together. “let me very clear, sweetheart, i'm going to lose my mind when i see them, i will drop to my knees and thank the gods for putting someone as sweet as you.”

your lips part, trying to breathe through the whirl of embarrassment and affection and…arousal.

“ken—”

“does this—” he rasped, grabbing your wrist and guiding your trembling fingers down to the thick, pulsing shape of his cock straining in his slacks, “feel like someone who's going to be disappointed?”

you whimpered, your smaller fingers squeezing his boner. 

“f-fuck…” he shuddered. “if you want to stop,” he breathed, forehead falling to your shoulder. “i'll stop. if you want to wait, we'll wait. another month. another year. i don't care. anything you want, for you to be comfortable.”

but his voice cracked at the end—like he was hanging by a thread. you felt it too, his body coiled tight, like a beast barely leashed.

“you're too nice, ken.” you say teary-eyed, half laughing, half melting.

“well, k-keep squeezing me like that and i'm afraid i won't be nice any longer.” he groaned, lip brushing your neck.

your thighs wrapped tighter around him. “you can take it off,”

his head snapped up. “you sure?” his gaze held yours as his fingers brushed the hem of your shirt again, and when you nodded, “arms up, sweets,” he said softly, and you obeyed.

when he tosses delicately your shirt to the side, skilled fingers quickly find your bra and unclip it, oh very so slowly.

when your bra hit the floor, everything held still. like the world paused long enough for nanami to lose his mind quietly. his eyes dragged up, heavy-lidded and wrecked. one big hand came up—trembling—cupping your breast with a war raging in his mind : should i worship or ruin them?

“sweets,” he breathed, thumbing over one of your nipple, “they're perfect. so fucking perfect i feel like i'm hallucinating.”

[iceman-kazansky]

Smiles, Sun, and Unsaid Feelings

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Requested by: anon, by ask

Request: "will you be writing any Mika Hakkinen or Kimi Raikkonen fics?"

Pairings: Kimi Raikkonen x f!reader

Warnings: Probably unrealistic dialogue, alcohol consumed, Nando is a flirt, 2006 F1 season

Word count: 1.9k

A/n: This kinda took awhile. I was going to write this a week ago (for the 7th,) and I had it ALMOST finished but had school shit thrown on me and now I'm away on holiday. So, what better time to do it then now?

Taglist: @anamiad00msday

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Kimi was a tough nut to crack.

He was aloof, appearing closed off to all onlookers. He was difficult for press and didn't have much of an opinion on anything, always giving short answers to in depth questions. Kimi didn't mind, though, as long as it kept nosy reporters and crowded cameras out of his face, he'd do anything.

Another factor of his personality was, in short, a lack of friends. Sure, he had plenty of acquaintances, but were they really friends? They didn’t know what he was like outside of racing. His personal life.

It wasn't that the iceman didn't want friends, rather that he couldn't be bothered to make new ones.

But he also was beyond content keeping many people in the acquaintance zone. He deeply cherished his privacy.

He stood off to the side of the garage, getting ready for qualifying.

The 2006 season was mid way through when Montoya left Mclaren for good.

Kimi didn't necessarily feel too down about it, he had remained purely cordial with the Columbian.

He saw you step into the garage, clad in racing gear with a helmet tucked under your arm and pressed to your side. At first, he didn't believe you were his team mate. Perhaps an engineer or a mechanic, but a fellow driver? No way.

You were the first to introduce yourself to him. Sauntering up to him without a speck of hesitancy, you reached out and offered to shake hands.

“Hi!” You said, voice cheery.

It was then that you smiled. You beamed a hearty smile that stretched from ear to ear.

Kimi could've sworn he'd been blinded. Teeth so bright they seemed to shine and shimmer. He'd never seen something so.. so bright. Friendly. Outgoing.

He didn't realize it, but from that moment onward, he was hooked.

Kimi didn't return the smile, only offering a small nod to you. His ears burned red hot and he felt strangely awkward.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Kimi wasn't particularly interested in being friends with you. He had made that much clear. Or atleast, that's what you'd made out his reserved persona as.

But you were determined.

Hot summer sun beat down on you, feeling like every second you stood under its gaze you darkened with tan.

So, what better day for a cold snack?

With two ice-cream cones in hand, you weaved through the many people on the grid to your team garage.

You managed to get close to Kimi, standing beside him. Gently nudging him with your shoulder you presented one of the cold treats to him.

For a long minute he just stared, ice blue eyes flickering from you to the ice cream cone. It looked like he was contemplating or considering something, his brows pinched together and a quizzical look fell into his gaze.

Eventually, Kimi took the ice cream cone, mumbling– or grumbling, you weren't quite sure– a very quiet ‘thank you’.

But what you could've swore you'd seen on his face a moment before was just an ounce of shock. And that was enough to keep you determined to befriend the reserved driver even more.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥

The minute you'd climbed out of your car you looked for Kimi.

Your team had reported that he'd had some technical malfunction mid lap but said nothing else.

It was only after the fact that you exited your car that you found out he had walked off the track and went straight to his yacht.

You imagined he'd be upset over the race; no racer would have been jumping with joy after his incident. Kimi had made it well over half way through the race before unfortunately ending up out on lap 50 due to a mechanical issue.

So, doing the only thing you thought suitable, you sought him out– bringing an offering that was in hope of comforting him and being a good friend.

Or atleast, being a good friend is what you'd told yourself. That there was nothing besides friendly intentions, is what you resorted to claiming. Only, your heart had it twisted. Your emotions had already acted like a fishing hook, thrown straight into the flesh of your heart by his cool blue eyes and ocean vast personality. Kimi had you hooked.

Others may not agree with the ‘ocean vast’, but they were very wrong. Kimi was unique. He was reserved yet still cared about those around him. He wasn't outgoing, eager to meet new people, but he wasn't disinterested in maintaining a friend once you'd gotten there. Sure, it may have taken a bit more effort on your side, but before long you'd chipped through that glacier-tough outside to discover his real self. The one he had put aside for friends only, tucked away from media and press and the other competitors. Kimi wasn't as he appeared, he never had been and it only took a bit of time and observation skills to see that.

Before long, you were at his yacht. Kimi looked shocked when you appeared on the ramp of his boat, still clad in your racing gear and a smile on your face. “Hey,” you greeted, raising a hand slightly to showcase the items you'd run to get as soon as you'd found out about his incident.

In your hand sparkled a bottle of liquor, glinting under the sun. Then, Kimi grinned. His lips tilted up and he genuinely smiled. The action almost made you drop the bottle in shock, luckily, however, you managed to snap out of it and keep your grip on the glass. He may have been feeling upset, but your inclination of bringing a comfort of sorts had him feeling grateful beyond his own words.

And his smile was worth a thousand words to you.

You were welcomed onto Kimi's boat then, the two of you cracking open the liquor and sitting in the shade provided by the boat.

The liquor goes by quicker than you'd imagined.

By the bottom of the bottle you've moved closer, sitting shoulder to shoulder, thighs pressing together while your hands almost touch, lingering a hair's breadth away from each other.

You converse animatedly with Kimi, even if you're the one doing a majority of the talking.

Kimi didn't mind it, though. His head, which previously felt weighted by the loud swirling thoughts, had cleared. Something likely because of your presence.

You're mid story, telling him about some childhood thing you remember when he closes that distance with his hand.

You stop talking, shocked by his action. In your chest, your heart does somersaults, flipping and beating wildly against your ribs. Your eyes dart down to his hand, which tentatively touches yours. Slowly, you reciprocate the action, moving to shift your hand into his. He spreads his fingers and you take the initiative to lace them together.

For Kimi, it's a grounding tactic and a way to show how grateful he is for you. He'd never been one for words, so instead he chose to show his emotion by holding your hand.

Nobody says anything, instead taking the moment silently. Neither of you know what it means to the other, or how the action mirrors an unknown, unspoken affection that’d been brewing for a while.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

The end of the season rolled up quickly. The Monaco incident was far from forgotten to either of you, rather pushed away by the lightning-paced world of Formula 1. It was the evening after Brazil, the final race of the season.

Most of the drivers had gone out to a local bar, deciding to get shitfaced in celebration of what they would argue a successful season.

Kimi sips on a Hardwall Long, a drink of gin and grapefruit soda. The bitter yet sweet mixture dances on his lips as he swallows a mouthful.

Across the bar, you sip your own drink. You know Kimi is here, but you're content while off on your own or meeting new people.

A presence makes itself known to you, leaning against the bartop and flashing a charming smile at you. Immediately, you recognize the face of the Championship winner and fellow driver, Fernando Alonso. His hair peeks out from behind his ears, brown locks waving hello.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks politely, gesturing to your almost empty glass. When he speaks, his Spanish accent is thick and rather nice on your ears.

But you don't care for the Spaniards' speech, you've already got your own accented man – whose voice lingers even now in the back of your mind,– to charm your ears.

You smile at Fernando, but politely decline, “I'm good but thank you, Nando. Congratulations on winning the championship, by the way.”

Little did you know that on the other side of the bar, you've caught none other than The Iceman's attention.

It's rare for the Fin to change expressions often– he's simply a man wearing a neutral face most of the time. But as of now, his eyes have narrowed uncharacteristically more, face pulling together in an expression of pure jealousy. Though, Kimi wouldn't really admit that out loud.

Fernando doesn't stick around too long after that, he just flashes you another smile and makes a comment about ‘still being there if you change your mind, hermosa’ before slipping away.

It isn't long before another figure stands beside you, only this time he seems.. off.

You turn your eyes to look at Kimi. He's got this subtle, sour look on his face, like he's just sucked on a lemon. It's unnatural on him, something you're unaccustomed with.

“Is everything alright, Kimi?” you ask, feeling concern.

He doesn't look at you, instead glaring at some object across the bar. “What did he want?”

“Alonso?” you ask, eyeing Kimi suspiciously, “he just wanted to buy me a drink.”

Kimi's eyes dart to the bar top, where a half-finished drink of yours sits. You can see his jaw clench while he simply hums.

“Let me take you on a date.”

“What?”

Kimi stares at you now, icy blue eyes trained on yours. He's serious and there isn't a speck of joke or jab in his speech.

“I promise it'll be better than whatever that.. Kusipää,” the foreign word slides off his tongue smoothly, alien to your ears, “has to offer.”

To say you were speechless was an understatement. Out of everything you expected to come from Kimi's mouth, his offer to take you on a date was not one of them. It wasn't even in the ballpark.

“He didn't ask me on a date,” you say, feeling confused. This whole thing feels confusing and like a big misunderstanding. Like a trick.

“My offer still stands.”

Something in his voice has you doubting your previous thought. How could he sound so sincere and be deceiving? It would be far-fetched. Even more so when you meet his gaze and see the genuine ask present in his eyes.

“Then I'd be honoured, Kimi,” you say, smiling at last. Your heart has taken that leap of faith.

He nods, and for a split second a smile graces his lips. You're thrown back to Monaco, even just for a short time, where he's smiling at you and you're smiling at him with booze in hand. He checks his phone before turning back to you, “let's get out of this place.”

The night was still young, and outside of the bar, within the city of Sao Paulõ, it was alive. Kimi extended his hand and you took it instantly, letting him lead you out of the bar.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Taking care of the men

Bucky/Alexei/John/Void x fem!reader

warning : hurt/comfort, fluff, kissing, cuddling, mention of weapons, nightmares, no use of Y/n

Summary : They were supposed to be the best of the best, having lived for years doing nothing but killing and completing missions. Yet even the strongest need help sometimes, and they find it in the arms of their caring partners, who will always be there for them...no matter how much blood is on the hands of the four.

info : The sexy guys get some comfort and the women get a one-shot/drabble too. They all need a loving partner and lots of hugs and you dear readers have fun reading ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky

He was more than a century old, he was actually an old man who didn't die, who had lost his arm, his best friend, and people who were important to him.

He was tired of death, of blood, and of the fight that had never killed him, but the transition to normality and the attempt to make a difference in the government showed him once again why the weapon felt better in his hand than a pen.

Bucky realized that a soldier needed the battlefield, he needed the fight, the life as a hero or soldier. The fight against Sentry/Void had shown him that he was needed, that his life was better in the team and, above all, at the side of his beloved.

His beloved, who was there for him in Congress, who helped him prepare his speeches, who helped him when he didn't know what to do, and his beloved, who didn't judge him, who didn't fear him, who took his suffering as seriously as his fears and his fatigue. “We'll all grow old, Bucky, but we need you, I need you, and as a leader, you've already proven yourself” she held his hand when he was once again plagued by his nightmares.

His nightmares were still full of guilt, and he sometimes wondered if his new beginning had been a good idea. Yet when he heard his team, his friends, and his love in their midst, it was as if Steve was with him, and as if his life was as it should be. “The teacher, my dear, what would I do without you?” he said with a hint of amusement as he looked up from the files and saw how she had brought peace between the others.

She was what he couldn't be, she was the heart of the group, the one who kept the peace where Bucky would otherwise have shot and kicked. That's why he was all the more relieved when, in quiet moments, he moved his hand toward hers, held it.

Bucky was grateful to her for everything, for not letting him become weary of life, for giving him her heart and for being there for him and not going aways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alexei

The Red Guardian had no problems; he was, no, he is the best weapon Russia has ever produced. He was an agent, a Suder soldier, a hero of the people, and could have changed the wars and the weather, and now, now he is part of the Thunderbolts with his girlfriend and the hope of humanity.

But when he was honest with himself, especially when he looked at his little spider, he felt guilty and full of hatred for himself. No amount of vodka in the world could make him forget what he had put Natasha and Yelena through, what he had done to his family.

“Sometimes it would be better if I had never become who I am, just not a hero,” he tried to admit to his love as the two sat on the couch with drinks in their hands.

But the warm, soft hand on his made him look up, and he saw a face full of love and understanding. She was the one who reminded him who he was, that they had all made mistakes, that blood was on their hands, and that they had destroyed lives.

“You're my hero, Alexei, you're Yelena's hero, and you're all of our hero. If you weren't the Red Guardian, we wouldn't be here,” she reminded him, and the older man smiled at her and kissed her before pouring them both another drink.

Besides the guilt and not finding his place, it was still difficult for him to always follow through on his mission. He was quick-tempered and did what he did best, but following tactical and clever orders from John or Bucky led to more damage than intended in some missions. “He just wanted to help... you all have to work as a team, I can only help so much,” she told the team in the jet via the communicator, explaining that none of them were the best on their own.

She held her hand over everyone as best she could, but she could sense when Alexei wasn't paying attention, and she hoped she could cheer him up in the evening with something other than drinks in the bedroom. After all, the best way to cheer him up was with a lot of love and just as much alcohol, and take his mind off his pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John

The former Captain America, the best soldier America ever had and a role model for the people. That's who he was before everything was taken from him, before he was betrayed by the government and the military who framed him for everything.

Now he was somehow a hero and yet still a convict, an agent, a mercenary, and a judge for the goals of his missions. But above all, he was a partner to his beloved and a friend to his team, who had grown dear to his heart.

John never wanted to replace Steve, but at least he could be someone who saw something different. He wasn't perfect, and that was what bothered him. His mistakes, which seemed small, were a challenge for him and his mind that had already brought him to the brink of his life.

“My U.S. agent, John, you are everything to me, and the others appreciate you even with a bent shield,‘’ she said and winked as she held out his shield to him. But the small smile on his lips let her know that she had eased his conscience, that she had convinced him that he was good enough.

Because no matter how bent his badge was, no matter how much he shot and no matter what he had done... he needed confirmation, he needed recognition, because if no one needed him, if he was worthless, then wasn't everything he had done for nothing?

The fears of a former soldier and a man who wanted to give his best. “You are my true shield, my life, without you it doesn't work,” he said as he pointed to the uniform and pulled his love close to him before giving her a goodbye kiss before the mission.

When he was alone at night, when he thought no one was watching him, he looked at photos of Lemar, of the military, of his little son, and of the life he had. However, when he saw her, when he saw the woman who was now in his life, the photos seemed like just photos; they didn't define him.

The arms that wrapped around him, the embrace he held tightly, and the kiss he gave her on the head were all signs of the mutual support they gave each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Void

No human being and yet more than a god, he seemed to be more of a state than anything else. A being far above everything that existed on Earth, he was stronger than a god, he stood above everything, and yet his eternal, infinite darkness was boring even for him, and he would even dare to say lonely.

With a crying nothing like Bob, it was annoying, with Sentry, he wanted to tear away the gold, and these so-called heroes who had once held him back were a nuisance to him...but in the darkness, when he was alone, he reached out for her.

She who feared him as much as everyone else, she who, despite everything, held a fascination for him in particular. “How could it be any different when you'll soon be a part of me?” he asked, his yellow eyes glowing in the darkness as he looked at her, in a moment when Bob couldn't hold him back.

She couldn't take a step away, and she would be trapped again. She stayed, he forced her to stay because he didn't want this loneliness, he wanted something else, he wanted her with him.

He saw her fear, saw how she was thinking about getting away, but the Thunderbolts were gone and “You-you don't have to do this, I can talk to you like this, Void.” Her attempt to talk amused him and his hand hovered over hers, he towered over her, he only had to touch her.

But this talk, this senseless talk, he liked it, watching her like this, full of fear, unable to attack him because she couldn't. However, they both heard Bob, they both heard the dark-haired man trying to regain control, which is why, with a blink of her eye, Void and she were suddenly in the lab. “Little human, light or darling after all. What should I call you?” he said, and his laughter made her flinch.

Void was having fun, he wasn't alone, and her behavior was so human and meaningless, but her reaction to his actions was almost amusing to him.

She responded to him, she gave him something to play with, and he liked it, he liked this game. He liked watching her grow beyond herself and speak, how she dared to take a step away from him and then back toward him, and he liked seeing how, behind all the fear, her fascination with him grew ever greater.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@neska223 , @redlightfreenlight01 , @brisselfshipping , @marvelnerd18 , @bribrisposts , @lilbit32 , @imtherain , @tallulinha

[bangtanbeom]

⋆˚࿔ perfect match 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

୨♡୧ part one ୨♡୧

pairing: rentalbf!soobin x fem!reader genre: fluff, comedy? (debatable), fake dating au summary: desperate to escape your friends matchmaking, a small lie spirals out of control. soobin—your charming, professional, rental boyfriend—the perfect answer. but what if the hardest part won't be fooling your friends and your ex? what if it’s reminding your own heart it's all fake? w/c: ~3k warning: not entirely proofread, fluff (might be cringe), an attempt at humor. a/n: hi! welcome to another story (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ i had this idea for years and recently i've been reading so many fake dating webtoons and it motivated me to finally start writing this one! and i thought soobin would be a perfect fit for the perfect boyfriend image. i'm excited how this one will turn out! enjoy <3

the cafe buzzed with chatter, the scent of vanilla lattes and fresh pastries filling the air. you stirred your iced coffee absentmindedly, half-listening to your friend's conversation—until mina leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"so," she said, tapping her nails against the table. "i met this amazing guy at the gym last week. tall, sweet, works in finance. you have to meet him.

you sighed, already knowing where this was going. "mina, no."

"oh, come on!" jia chimed in, nudging your arm. "you ghosted every guy after the blind dates and you're rarely out of the house since you got dumped. it's been months!"

"and i'm fine with that," you said, though the words tasted hollow even to you.

mina scoffed. "liar. you've been buried in work, and your idea of fun friday night is rewatching 'reply 1988' alone. again."

you opened your mouth to argue, but jia cut in before you. "just one more blind date. if you hate him, we'll never bring it up again."

a headache was forming between your temples. you loved your friends, but their relentless matchmaking was exhausting, and you knew they would definitely bring it up again. before you could think better of it, the words tumbled out.

"i am seeing someone."

silence.

mina's spoon clattered against her cup. jia's eyes widened.

"what?" they said in unison.

your stomach dropped. you hadn't planned this—there was no name, no face, just the desperate need to make them stop.

jia recovered first. "since when? who is he? why haven't you mentioned him before?"

"it's... new," you hedged, scrambling for details. "we're taking it slow."

they exchanged glances, and you braced yourself for interrogation—but then mina's expression softened. "well... we're happy for you. seriously."

jia nodded. "but you have to bring him to the dinner next week. you know, the one where he might show up."

your ex. the one who'd made you feel small, replaceable. the reason you'd taken a break from dating in the first place.

a cold knot formed in your chest. you couldn't show up alone. you weren't ready to face him, especially when you were still hurt.

"of course," you heard yourself say. "he'll be there."

as your friends cheered, your mind raced.

what have i just done?

you had exactly eight days to find the perfect boyfriend.

and he didn't even exist.

the moment you stepped into your apartment, the weight of your lie crashed down on you.

eight days.

eight days to produce a boyfriend out of thin air—one charming enough to convince your friends everything's going well, impressive enough to make your ex regret everything, and believable enough to not get caught in your own web.

you groaned and face-planted onto the couch.

"this is a disaster."

your phone buzzed. a text from mina.

mina: can't wait to meet your mystery man! tell me everything about him!!

you stared at the screen, your fingers hovering uselessly over the keyboard. what could you say? that your imaginary boyfriend was tall? kind? had a nice voice? that was all you had—vague traits you'd daydreamed about but had never actually found in real life.

you typed back:

you: haha i'll tell you more later!

and immediately threw your phone across the couch like it had burned you.

the next morning, you dragged yourself to work, dark circles under your eyes from a night spent spiraling. your coworker, yeonjun, took one look at you and whistled.

"wow. who died?"

"my dignity," you muttered, slumping into your chair.

he rolled his chair closer, intrigued. "okay, drama queen. spill."

you hesitated. but yeonjun was the king of bad decisions—if anyone had advice on digging yourself out of a hole, it was him.

so you told him.

his eyebrows shot up. then burst out laughing.

"oh my god. you actually told them you had a boyfriend?"

"shut up." you hissed, glancing around the office. "i panicked!"

yeonjun wiped a tear from his eye. "okay, okay. so just... find a guy to pretend for one night. easy."

you blinked. "easy?"

"yeah! get a friend to do it. or—" his eyes lit up. "oh! rent one."

you stared at him. "a boyfriend?"

"yeah! it's a thing. there are, like, agencies for that. super professional." he pulled out his phone. "look, here's one—'perfect match rentals.' they specialize in fake dates, events, all that."

your stomach twisted. was this really your only option?

yeonjun smirked. "unless you wanna tell them you lied?"

you shuddered. no. absolutely not. they'd never let you live it down. you already dug the hole for yourself—too deep. and let's not start about your ex.

with a deep breath, you nodded.

"fine. let's rent me a boyfriend."

yeonjun swiped through his phone with the enthusiasm of a kid in a candy store. "okay, let's see what we've got here. perfect match rentals—professional, discreet, and way too many good-looking guys."

you leaned over his shoulder, squinting at the screen. the agency's website was sleek, polished and slightly intimidating. rows of profiles stared back at you—smiling, smoldering, some even holding puppies for maximum charm.

"this feels illegal," you muttered.

yeonjun scoffed. "illegal would be if we were hiring a hitman. this is just... strategic dating."

you shot him a look.

he grinned. "relax. think of it like ordering food. you're just picking the perfect dish for the occasion."

you sighed. "fine. let's see the menu."

yeonjun tapped the first profile. "ooh, check out jackson. 29, business man, speaks three languages. his tagline is literally: 'impress your collegues—or your ex.'"

you squinted at the photo of a sharp-jawed man in a tailored suit. "he looks like he owns a yacht."

"exactly! your ex would hate that."

"yeah, but he also looks like he'd side-eye me for using the wrong fork."

yeonjun snorted. "okay, fair. next!" he swiped. "oh! jaeyun. 25, specialty: 'the kind your mom would love to.' look at his smile! he probably bakes cookies."

you tilted your head. "he's cute, but..."

"but what?"

"i don't need a golden retriever in human form. my ex would think i downgraded to a puppy."

yeonjun groaned. "you're impossible." swipe. "alright, how about taehyung? 27, 'mysterious artist' vibe. look at that smolder."

in the photo, a brooding guy in all black stared moodily at the camera, a paintbrush behind his ear.

you deadpanned. "i don't need my fake boyfriend giving me cryptic one-word answers all night."

"ugh, fine." yeonjun scrolled furter, muttering. "sweet but not boring, handsome but not intimidating, confident but not arrogant..." then he froze.

"oh."

you frowned. "what?"

he turned the screen toward you.

the profile photo showed a guy with soft, warm eyes and a dimpled smile that felt like spring. he wasn't posing dramatically—just leaning against a cafe chair, looking at the camera like he already knew you.

name: soobin age: 24 specialty: the boyfriend experience

your breath caught.

yeonjun's voice dropped to a whisper. "damn."

you swallowed. "he's..."

"exactly what you need," yeonjun finished, grinning.

you hesitated. "but what if he's too good? what if my friends think i'm lying because there's no way someone like him would date me?"

yeonjun rolled his eyes. "first of all, rude to yourself. second—that's the point. he's supposed to make it believable." he tapped the screen. "look at his reviews. five star across the board. 'made my parents adore him.' 'had my ex seething with jealousy.' 'felt like a real relationship.'

you bit your lip.

yeonjun smirked. "so... should i book him?"

you took a deep breath.

"do it."

yeonjun's fingers flew across his phone screen with terrifying enthusiasm. "aaand—booked." he grinned at you, satisfied. "you're officially getting a fake boyfriend."

your stomach flipped. "wait, already? what did you even put in the request?"

"relax," he said, waving his phone. "just the basics—dinner with friends, ex will be there, need someone to make you look like the ultimate glow-up." he scrolled through the confirmation email. "oh, and he'll meet you tomorrow at 6 PM to go over details."

you nearly choked. "tomorrow?!"

yeonjun shrugged. "professionalism, baby. this guy doesn't mess around."

you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "i can't believe i'm doing this.

"believe it," yeonjun said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "by the time next week, your ex will be crushed, your friends will be shocked, and you—" he poked your cheek. "—will owe me big for saving your ass."

you swatted him away, but a nervous laugh escaped. "this is either going to be the best decision of my life or a spectacular disaster."

yeonjun winked. "best part? either way, it'll be entertaining. for me."

the glow of your phone screen was the only light in the darkened room, casting long shadows across the piled of discarded clothing thrown over your bed. you stared at the text from mina, the words blurring as your eyes burned from lack of sleep.

mina: omg he said yes?? so he's coming? super funn!

you tossed the phone aside with a groan, letting it sink into the sea of fabric surrounding you. the digital clock on your nightstand ticked over to 1:18 AM, the red numbers glowing in the darkness.

"this is ridiculous," you muttered to the empty room, flopping back onto the mattress. a misplaced coat hanger stabbing into your shoulder, and you batted it away with more force than necessary.

the ceiling fan spun lazy circles above you as your mind raced through the same exhausting loop it had been stuck in for hours.

outfit. story. backstory. cancellation.

a nervous laugh bubbled up as you imagines explaining this to someone.

i'll be meeting my fake boyfriend tomorrow to plan our fake relationship for a dinner where my very real ex will be watching.

your phone buzzed again.

yeonjun: stop overthinking and go to sleep. you have a hot date tomorrow.

you scowled at the message.

you: it's NOT a date. it's a business meeting.

yeonjun: sure. whatever helps you sleep at night.

you rolled onto your stomach, burying your face in a pillow that smelled faintly of fabric softener and regret. the scent reminded you of laundry day, which reminded you of chores, which reminded you of all the very normal, very boring things you should be worrying about instead of this elaborate charade.

the sweater you'd tried on earlier—the soft cream one with the delicate embroidery at the collar—laid crumpled near your feet. it had been the frontrunner before the great wardrobe purge of midnight. classy but casual. approachable but put together. the perfect 'i didn't try too hard but still want to make a good impression' outfit.

not that you were trying to impress anyone.

except, well.

you groaned again, louder this time, as if the sound could exorcise the butterflies staging a rebellion in your stomach.

a glance at the clock. 1:37 AM

with a sudden burst of determination, you sat up and grabbed your laptop. the screen flared to life, illuminating your tired face in the dark room.

"backstory," you muttered to yourself, fingers hovering over the keys. "we need a believable backstory."

the blank document stared back at you, cursor blinking expectantly.

how did we meet?

your fingers tapped out possibilities:

coffee shop (cliche)

mutual friends (vague)

work connection (too easy to fact check)

you deleted them all with a frustrated backspace barrage.

the reality of what you were doing settled over you like a heavy blanket. you were about to pay a stranger to pretend care about you. to look at you with affection that wasn't real. to spin lies so convincing your closest friends would believe them.

your fingers stilled on the keyboard.

maybe you should cancel.

the thought brought both relief and a strange pang of disappointment. you could text yeonjun right now, tell him to call it off. you'd face the teasing from your friends, sure, but at least you wouldn't be living this lie.

your phone buzzed again, startling you.

unknown number: hi, this is soobin from perfect match. looking forward to meeting you tomorrow at 6. let me know if you have any special requests for our backstory.

your breath caught.

he texted like a normal person. no corporate speak, no weird formality.

you stared at the message, thumbs hovering over the screen. what did one say to their rented significant other?

looking forward to being fake-dating you?

before you could overthink it, you typed:

you: hi! likewise, no special requests—just need to survive dinner with my ex.

you hit sent before you could second-guess yourself, then immediately cringed.

"survive dinner with my ex?" you muttered. "what are you, twelve?"

the three dots appeared almost immediately.

soobin: ah, the classic revenge fake-dating scenario. don't worry. i've got plenty of experience making exes regret their life choices.

a surprised laugh escaped you

you: that's weirdly comforting."

soobin: that's what i'm here for. see you tomorrow. try to get some sleep.

you stared at the message, something warm yet nerve-wrecking feeling unfurling in your chest. maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

closing the laptop, you finally turned off the light. outside the window, the city hummed its nighttime lullaby, and for the first time that evening, your mind grew quiet too.

tomorrow would come, with all its complications and charades. but for now, in the dark, you let yourself imagine—just for a moment—what might feel like to have someone like soobin, just someone in general, look at you like you were the only person in the room.

even if it was all pretend.

the cafe was too bright.

that was your first thought as you hovered outside the entrance, fingers nervously adjusting the strap of your bag for the twelfth time in two minutes. the afternoon sun glinted off the glass windows, making the entire establishment look like it was under a spotlight—which, of course, only amplified your growing sense of dread.

this was a mistake.

you checked your phone again. 5:58 PM. two minutes early.

your stomach twisted.

you could still leave. you should leave. this whole thing was absurd. who hired a boyfriend? who pretended to be in a relationship just to save face in front of their ex?

you... apparently.

with a deep breath, you pushed open the door.

the scent of roasted coffee beans and warm pastries wrapped around you as you stepped inside. it was cozy—wooden tables, soft jazz playing in the background, the low hum of conversations. a few people glanced up as you entered, and you immediately stiffened, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place you felt.

was it obvious why you were here?

you swallowed hard and scanned the room.

then you saw him.

soobin.

he was sitting near the back, one hand curled around a coffee cup, the other tapping idly on his phone. he looked... normal.

not in a bad way. just—human?

no flashy suit, no over-the-top charm oozing from his posture. just a guy in a soft-looking sweater, his hair slightly messy like he'd run a hand through it one too many times.

and then he looked up.

your breath hitched.

his eyes—warm, brown, kind—met yours, and for a second, you forgot how to move.

then he smiled.

not a practiced, customer-service smile. not a smirk. just a small, genuine tilt of his lips, like he was happy to see you.

it threw you off completely.

you forced your legs to work, weaving through the tables until you stood awkwardly in front of him.

"hi," you said, voice slightly too high. "you're soobin, right?"

he nodded, setting his phone down. "yeah. and you must be my date for next weekend."

his voice was deeper than you expected. calm. steady.

you nodded, then realized you were just standing there like an idiot.

"right. yeah. should i—" you gestured awkwardly at the chair across from him.

"please," he said, motioning for you to sit.

you did, gripping the edge of the table like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away.

it lasted approximately three seconds.

three agonizing seconds where you stared at your hands, at the table, at the wall behind him—anywhere but at him—while he just... waited. patient. unfazed.

finally, you blurted out:

"this is weird."

soobin blinked. then, to your surprise, he laughed—a soft, warm sound.

"yeah," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "it kind of is."

the honestly caught you off guard.

"you're not going to pretend this is totally normal?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

he shrugged. "would you believe me if i did?"

"...no."

"exactly." he took a sip of his coffee. "so. let's just acknowledge it's weird, and then move on."

you exhaled, shoulders loosening slightly. "okay. yeah. that helps."

another silence.

"so," you tried again, "how long have you been, uh, doing this?"

"renting myself out as a fake boyfriend?"

you cringed. "when you say it like that, it sounds bad."

he grinned. "about a year. mostly for events like this—dinners, parties, the occasional family gathering."

"do you... like it?"

"it pays well," he said simply. then, after a pause, "and sometimes, it's nice. helping people out, i mean."

you studied him. there was something in his tone—not quite sadness, but... understanding. like he got why someone would do this.

"so," he said, setting his cup down, "tell me about this dinner."

you sighed, rubbing your temples. "right. okay. so my ex is going to be there—"

"right, yes. revenge."

you shot him a look. "it's not revenge. it's just... a lie that got out of hand." you trailed off.

"sounds like revenge." he supplied, smirking.

you groaned. "fine. maybe a little."

he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "i'm listening."

and so you explained—the lie, your friends, the never-ending blind dates, the way your stomach churned at the thought of showing up alone while he got to parade around with his new girlfriend—the same girl he had cheated on you with.

soobin nodded along, his expression shifting between amusement and something softer—sympathy, maybe.

when you finished, he hummed. "okay. so we need a backstory."

"right."

"how did we meet?"

you hesitated. "i was thinking... coffees shop?"

he raised an eyebrow. "like this?"

"too obvious?"

"a little." he tapped his fingers against the table. "what about... a bookstore? you were reaching for the same book, we got to talking..."

you blinked. "that's... actually kind of cute."

"i have my moments," he said dryly, but there was a playful glint in his eyes.

"okay, bookstore it is," you agreed, "and we've been dating for...?"

"two months. long enough to be serious, not so long that it's weird they haven't met me yet."

you nodded, scribbling notes in your phone like this was some kind of bizarre business meeting.

"what do i do for work?" he asked.

"something impressive but not too impressive," you mused. "graphic designer?"

"perfect. and you?"

"same as real life. marketing."

he grinned. for the first time since you'd walked in, your shoulders loosened. maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

as you wrapped up the details—favorite foods, pet peeves, how you like your coffee—you caught yourself laughing at something he said.

laughing.

with your fake boyfriend.

the absurdity of it all hit you again, but this time, it didn't feel like panic. it felt like... fun.

soobin leaned back in his chair, studying you with an amused expression. "you're not as nervous anymore."

you blinked. "i'm not?"

"nope. your shoulders dropped about ten minutes ago."

you hadn't even noticed.

"guess you're just that good at your job," you muttered.

he smiled—not the polite one from earlier but something warmer. "or maybe you're just not as awkward as you think you are."

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

"so," he said, finishing the last of his coffee, "we good for next week?"

you took a deep breath. "yeah. we're good."

୨♡୧ part one ୨♡୧

© bangtanbeom 2025

[disc0kitten]

3 am

(18+ mdni)

it was 3 in the morning and bucky couldn't sleep. nights have always been like this for him. the terrors always kept him up, and tonight was no different. he looked at the clock on his bedside table and growled. he was not going down tonight.

he threw the covers off, swinging his legs off the bed to fully sit up. he craned his neck to the side, needing to pop that one ache that has been bothering him. no luck. he grumbled a string of curses before standing up and making his way out the door.

he knew no one else would be up so didn't bother throwing his shirt on. he only, and i mean only, wore his sweatpants. he walked down the hall, thankful his room was closest to the kitchen. he grabs a glass of water and before it registers in his head he sensed someone in the corner. he grabbed onto the knife nearby and flung it straight at them, or so he thought.

"thought you'd have better aim." bucky breathes a sigh of relief, noticing his knife has hit the cabinet next to y/n's face.

"you could've given me a warning," he grumbled before resuming with his water.

"why? where's the fun in that?" she was swinging her legs lightly as she sat upon the counter, a mischievous look on her face. bucky shook his head lightly, tsking at her remark.

"why are you up?"

"why do you think?" she fell silent, knowing that he struggled with nightmares too. when she looked away bucky took her in. she wasn't wearing any real pants just an oversized shirt that rode up her thigh. if there was anything underneath he couldn't see it, and god he didn't want there to be.

no.

scratch that.

he shouldn't be hoping from that. she was a teammate of his. someone he respected.

but her slender legs could be wrapped around his waist and he wouldn't complain...

stop it.

you're venturing into dangerous territories considering you have only sweatpants on.

bucky cleared his throat, looking away. he downed the rest of the glass before putting it into the sink.

"hope you have a better night," he says to her before shuffling out of the kitchen. it took everything in him not to pop a tent right in front of her. once he was out of sight it was an immediate reaction. at least he'll have something to occupy himself with.

~

he'd been at it for ten minutes now. hand slowly working up and down his cock as he watched video after video. same fake girl with blonde hair and big tits. each one moaning like their paycheck depended on it. he stared at the screen, eyes focused on the way her fingers jammed into her soaked pussy before she "came" once more.

and yet bucky hadn't even once.

he tossed the phone aside, taking a deep breath before it popped into his mind. those long tanned legs of her. the way her hair fell perfectly onto her shoulders and framed her face. it made her seem angelic. especially with how the moon lit through the kitchen to only highlight her body. he has seen her body many times but never in the way he wanted. even her uniform was able to hug her curves and accent her bust.

bucky started to work himself again, to another thought. the mission where she had to be an exotic dancer. sure, he was a bouncer surveying said club to find the arms dealer but he also couldn't help himself to watching you take the stage. how your body moved around like the music was calling you. how you had your back against the floor, stared directly at him, and arched yourself up before resuming your routine.

he laid there, eyes wired shut as he pumped himself. he couldn't help it. he knew he should think of literally anything else but nothing else came to mind. only thoughts of you flashed in his mind. like the pool party they hosted three days ago. your tits almost spilling out of your bikini top and that fabric between your legs barely covering your ass. every time bucky stared for even a second you were already locked in on him. like you knew.

"fuck..." he growled to himself as he grew closer. his hand was pumping harshly, beads of sweat forming at his forehead. he knew he was getting there and felt awful it was to you. but not so awful that he would stop. before he could even finish he heard his door slowly swing open. his movement jolted to a stop. his eyes were trying to fixate who that was in the dark and to his surprise it was the last person he expected.

"need any help, barnes?" y/n came into the room, shutting and locking the door behind her. "i was trying, and failing, to take care of myself next door when a wicked thought popped into my mind. you're here. you're up. why don't you do it." she stripped off her shirt, proving bucky's previous thoughts right. there was absolutely nothing underneath.

"w-what are you doing?" he asked, still holding his painfully erect cock in his hand.

"what does it look like?" she swayed her hips as she walked over to the bed, kneeling on it to get a better look at him. her hand came out, replacing his to stroke it lightly. "you help me... and i help you." he clenched his jaw, eyes fixated on her as she started to pump him. slowly she bent down, extending her tongue to slowly swirl at his tip, gathering what ever pre-cum was there. he shivered at that, still trying to piece together how this even happened.

"we can't do this," he said.

"then why aren't you stopping me?" she said before licking up the side of his cock. he grit his teeth once more, eyes becoming fixated on her. he was doing everything he could to not lose it but that tipped him right over. his metal arm reached out to grab onto her hair, pulling her up. she had an evil smirk on her face, staring right back into his eyes.

"do you know what i am capable of?"

"what do you think i'm trying to find out?" it was his turn to smirk back, shaking his head before shoving her right back down to where she belonged.

"open your fucking mouth." she obeyed, instantly. bucky wasn't gentle when it came to sex. he liked to be in control. he needed the other person to worship him. as he slid into her warm mouth he groaned louder than he intended. slowly he bucked his hips into her mouth, seeing how far she could take him. he was almost there before she gagged. she didn't push him off or slap his thigh. only breathed through her nose to see if she could fit more.

"look at this pretty fucking whore take my cock. you're so desperate to fit it all, aren't ya?" once it was all in her mouth is when the real fun started. keeping that tight grip on her hair, bucky started to move his hips. his cock went in and out of her mouth, making the sloppiest noises known to man. all the gargling and spitting caused drool to run down her chin but she was continuing to take his abuse like a champ. bucky noticed her eyes watering at the harsh fucking her throat was receiving and did not let up. she was a big girl so if she wanted it to stop all she had to do was say it.

"you like having your throat used? fuck, if i would've known i would've done this a long time ago..."

once he grew closer to the edge he slammed his cock right into her mouth once more before emptying his load into her throat. she swallowed each drop, not wanting to waste what he had given her. his grip loosened on her hair and slowly she pulled herself off his cock, letting her tongue glide underneath. once more, her tongue explored his tip, not wanting to leave anything behind.

"holy fuck..." he groaned. she adjusted her hair before looking at the time.

"glad you enjoyed yourself, barnes. i expect you to return the favor when i come back."

"w-when you come back?" he said breathless.

"i have a mission with walker and yelena in two hours. i need to prepare."

"shit i'm sorry to have kept you awake."

"don't be. i wanted it."

[hitomisuzuya]

hellooooo ^^ i'd like to request modern uni au kinda, where scara and y/n live together and their domestic life mostly pleaseee :> extra fluff with smut toooo

I absolutely adore the way you write scara in ANY au / version of him,,, its just feels so him djhtfkjyfkyt i love your writing so much O_O

scaramouche x fem!reader. fluffy fluff fluff. smut. fingering. clit stimulation. college au.

aww thank you so much❤️ i hope this turned out to your liking 🥺 you guys can pick what is cooked here. but for the sake of smooth narration, and because i got this idea from making a frozen pizza, that's what i wrote in.

scaramouche knew he was serious about you the moment he kissed you for the first time, drunk at the party, devouring your mouth with his tongue after you had just chastised him being an asshole.

he hasn't wanted anyone so badly ever since.

the following year, being the trust fund boy that he is, he splurged on a luxurious apartment right outside of campus to move into with you. and honestly, he is quite enjoying domestic life. it's quiet, peaceful and he got to wake up next to you every morning.

life is spoiling him in areas he never thought it would. to him, you are way out of his league. so far out of his league that you weren't even playing the same sport. yet, he hit a home run anyways and locked you down.

to be fair, the chores are split down the middle. more often than not though, scaramouche did your chores in the morning for you if you were nervous about an exam and wanted to study a little more that morning, or if you didn't feel well.

usually, the cooking is left up to him. since his mother couldn't cook, he had been dead set on perfecting cooking growing up. anything to be better at something that his mom could never be. good at.

today in between classes, you insisted that you wanted to make lunch today. you flashed him the cutest smile with an even cuter blush on your cheeks and declared you wanted to prove that you are future wife material.

he stood next to you in front of the oven, where a pizza sat baking perfectly positioned on the center rack. you even left the oven light on so you could keep an eye on it, glancing up at the kitchen timer ticking away on top of the stove. you have such a determined, concentrated expression on your face.

"you know staring at it isn't going to speed up time," he couldn't help but tease. you just look so fucking cute.

you let out a shy squeak. "i know, it's just..i am nervous. it's my first time making anything for you. i know there is no way for me to mess this up but still," you glance up at him for a moment before looking away shyly, "i have something to prove after all."

how cute you are so afraid of messing up in front of him.

scaramouche sighs, putting a hand on your head. "stop being so nervous. i am going to eat it no matter how it turns out." you followed the directions down to an exact tee. he is sure not even the great gordon ramsey would find fault with your method.

"scara, that's not the point. i want it to taste good," you reply a little exasperated. "i don't want you to just eat because i made it. i want you to eat it because it's good," you cock your hip restlessly, looking back at the oven light.

"you are way overthinking this," scaramouche chuckles softly. to soothe you, he pets his hand through your soft hair.

the oven timer dings. "oh, it's done," you said, hesitating while you open the oven.

the next series of events made a flutter of panic shoot through scaramouche. you only put on one oven mit to pull the rack out, and took it off. you reached into the oven with your bare hands to take hold of the tin foil.

"what do you think you are doing?!" he spoke so suddenly that it startles you. he quickly grabs your hands. "you don't have oven mittst on! you could burn yourself!" he took the pizza out of the oven, and kicks the oven door closed, turning the oven off.

"scara, tin foil doesn't get hot," you try and reassure, "i didn't burn myself, honest," you put your hand in his when he took hold of it.

"you almost burnt the side of your knuckle on the inside of oven," he murmurs, feeling relieved he didn't see a burn mark. he brushes his fingers over your unmarred skin. his future wife is delicate, damn it.

"but, scara, what about your hands. you reached into the oven without any mitts on either," you intertwine your fingers through his, squeezing his hand before bringing it to your lips. "you could've burnt yourself too. your fingers are too beautiful for that."

just as his concern for you made your heart flutter, scaramouche felt his flutter. and watching you flit about the apartment, trying to prove that you could be his little wife really made his cock ache.

"maybe i scalded them a little," he said, taking his hand out of yours. he brought his fingers to your lips. "be a doll, and soothe them for me," he taps two fingers on your lips.

your cheeks flush as you open your mouth. your tongue glides along his fingers as he pushes them into your mouth. scaramouche has such capable, fucking beautiful fingers. your tongue tingles as he gently presses down on it.

putting a hand on your hip, he backs you so that you are trapped between him and the kitchen counter. you gag softly as he pushes his fingers into your throat. his cock pulses feeling your eager little mouth start to suck wetly on his fingers.

he sighs shakily seeing the lovestruck look of adoration in your eyes for him, drool collecting at the corners of your mouth. "look at you," he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of your mouth, "you can never get enough of me."

the hand on your hip wanders down between your legs. moving your thighs apart, he cups your cunt outside your jeans. "the pizza may smell good, but you look even better," his cock gets harder watching the blush on your cheeks darkening at his praise.

scaramouche unbuttons your jeans, hardly hesitating in dipping his hand inside your dampening panties. "let's tend to both my hands, shall we?"

you muffle a moan on his fingers as parts your folds, and finds your clit. he is delighted to discover you are already getting very wet, very fast. "you just keep sounding all cute while i make you cum," he slowly rubs your clit, teasing it until your walls clench around nothing.

your clit throbs underneath his fingers, making you squirm as your hips rock into them. he knows your body inside and out, having no trouble reducing you to drooling mess, muffling the sweetest moans on his fingers.

he smirks hearing your moans try and rise in octave. "go on, pretty. cum all over my fingers. you've been such a good girl," he purrs pushing his fingers inside of you. he hooks his fingers accurately into your sweet spot, taking care that they always rub over your clit pumping in and out of you.

his sweet words are all it takes to make you come undone. your body shakes as your orgasm washes over you. sucking eagerly on his fingers in appreciation. scaramouche hums in approval seeing the state he has reduced you to. "now," he said, pulling his fingers from your mouth, "let's sit you on my cock for a while. the pizza can wait."

[callofdoobie420]

AN TOAST TO WATCHING IT BURN

Rafe x pogue!reader (also kinda x sofia)

You had overheard something — a conversation you know wasn’t meant for your ears. It wasn’t your fault though! You had just been doing your job.

Out at the docks, doing a last walk through before locking up. As a Pogue there aren’t too many job opportunities in Kildare, and you really didn’t want to end up at the wreck with Kie. No matter how many times she had offered.

The water was like a second home to you, and working at the yacht club just seemed to make sense. It just also meant sucking up to annoying Kooks. The tips may be nice but it was slowly eating away at your soul. Especially when people like Rafe Cameron were around.

He was a frequent pain in your ass, and always out here with Topper and Kelce causing problems. Though you also couldn’t deny the more lust filled glances you had thrown his way (you sure as hell would try).

So when you heard murmurs coming from one of the yachts, and Rafe’s name mentioned you couldn’t help yourself. Quietly stepping near the boat and moving closer to the voices.

“I’m not asking you to do anything illegal, not even unethical,” you hear an unfamiliar voice say, “you’re just helping me, help Rafe make a good decision.”

“How much?” You strain to hear, that voice. That sounded familiar.

“Twenty-five dear, no questions asked, the deal happens you get the money.”

“Hollis,” the familiar voice clarifies who the other is, “this is a swindle isn’t it, Rafes the mark-?”

Nothing else filters to you once you hear that. Rafe? That voice, that familiar voice — Sofia. You scramble away from the boat carefully avoiding the creaky boards.

Cursing internally, you pull out your phone and shoot a text to the one person you thought you’d never speak to. And that you know you shouldn't be speaking to.

Hey. I’m tired of everyone lying to you and using you. Ask Sofia where she was tonight.

Clicking so your phone locks, you tossed it in your purse heading for your bike. Knowing you just lit a match and dropped it on a puddle of gasoline. But you meant what you said.

While Rafe was a major pain in your ass, he was yours. And you were getting sick and tired of seeing people abuse what was yours. Though you two have hated each other since elementary school, somewhere along the way something else had formed.

It was rough and ugly. But you would be damned if Sofia got to reap all the benefits now that Rafe was finally trying to be better.

He could be better with you.

You would accept him, but push him to thrive as who he is — not smother it like Sofia. She didn’t see his raw potential. But you did. And now, you’d be sure Rafe saw yours.

He’d had his fun. He’d tried it with the sweet little Pogue. Now it’s time to try it with the one who could kick his ass.

Feeling your phone buzz, you stop your bike to read the message.

You better not be fucking with me Maybank.

Giggling to yourself as you thought, not fucking with you...yet. Instead sending him a serious message.

I told you...tired of you being used. Now delete those texts, there cant be proof I was nice to you.

Across town, Rafe couldn't help the small smirk that spread over his lips at the text you sent. He would be lying if he said he hadn't ever thought of you that way — in all ways. But you were a Pogue...and a Maybank at that. He couldn't ever allow himself to stoop that low.

But here you were reaching out a potential olive branch of epic proportions. You didn't have to warn him, but you had. Even said that you didn't like people using him.

He wasn't used to someone thinking of him like that. Caring about what happened to him. He just shook his head, not wanting to get a headache thinking about this.

I'll think about it ;) thanks for the tip Maybank.

You simply roll your eyes at his response. Continuing on your way home content with the havoc this would cause. You hadn't ever thought you were better than Sofia, no...just better for Rafe.

(Just dipping my toe into the obx world. Kinda cant stop thinking about Rafe needing someone that challenges him...)

[whatever1728]

"I'll look after you"

summary: in which you help Pau deal with being sick before and after the el clasico

a/n: I heard that he had a stomachache before the match and that was why Flick subbed him off so this was the outcome

warnings: mentions of sickness, vomit, intense pain, hospitals, panic /anxiety attacks, dating a minor

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Pau had seen better days. Today, the Friday before the El Clasico, he felt extremely tired. At first he thought it was normal. He had a double training session in the morning, then he hit the gym with a couple of the guys and after that he went to his dorm to study. And even though he felt exhausted he couldn't fall asleep.

That's how you found yourself awake at 2 am, being in Pau's own words 'The best girlfriend ever without whom I wouldn't survive another day..' he was dramatic but overly cute. He asked you to just talk to him, claiming that your voice was soothing to him, like a lullaby.

The next morning you met up for coffee.

"So love everything okay?" you asked, concerned because of last night. Pau most of the time slept like a baby.

"I-I don't know to be honest. I feel more tired than usual for the past couple of days, but I can't fall asleep at night. Like yesterday..."

"Would you like to sleep at mine tonight? Do you think it would help you amor?" you suggested

"Can I? I think it would help having you by my side..." Pau trailed off

"Then it's arranged, I'll come pick you up from the dorms at, let's say... 8?"

"Perfect, hermosa, thank you"

"Anything you want guapo" you said back and kissed him lightly on the cheek. The blush immediately appearing on his pale cheeks, paler than usual...

When you kissed him you thought his skin was warmer than normal. You didn't comment on it, thinking that you were sitting under the sun and that Pau always run a bit warmer than most people.

By 8 o'clock you were at the dorms of La Masia, signing a permission slip for Pau to stay with you for the next four nights. You would tell him later that you were keeping him out of the dorms for longer, in hopes that his sleep schedule will improve.

A couple of hours into the night, everything took a turn for the worse.

You woke up in the middle of the night to find Pau unable to breathe normally.

"Love, breathe for me... deep breath through your nose, deep exhale through your mouth... good... close your eyes for me amor and name 5 things you can feel"

"I-I ca-an fe-el yo-our hands-s, the-e sheets, my pillo-ow, you-ur feet and-d... mm" he couldn't finish the sentence. He didn't have panic attacks often. Rarely. And even then not this severe. You started rubbing circles on his back. Hugging him, his back on your chest, you started to kiss his shoulders, your presence by him always calming.

You stayed that way for a while, occasionally singing a tune to him in your native language. He always claimed it had a calming effect on him.

Pau was breathing by trying to mimick yours. You kept your breathing as even and steady as possible, wanting to make him feel better.

"You're feeling any better, amor?" you asked quietly, your hands now drawing shapes on his abs and ribcage, your hand resting on his shoulder, your chin touching his shoulderblade.

"Hmm, a-a bit..."

"Keep on breathing like this love, in and out clear your mind..." you trailed.

After some time he managed to get his breathing under control.

"Let's go make some tea, si? I think it will help you calm down.."

"Si.." he replied, a little hesitant, not because he didn't agree, but because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to walk properly down the stairs. You went to his side of the bed and helped him up, staying close to him in case he felt unwell. When the two of you reached the stairs Pau got dizzy. Thank all these years of being involved in sports that you managed to catch him effectively. He didn't pass out but was close to it.

You knelt down next to him and had him rest his back against the wall. You checked for his temperature just to realize that he was extremely warm. Fortunately, you had colder hands than most, so you placed your hand on his forehead and he relaxed a bit.

"Amor, don't move, I'm getting you a wet cloth okay? Wait here for a bit"

You ran downstairs and ran a clean towel through the running water of the open tap. After draining it slightly, you raced back upstairs and placed it on his forehead. Fortunately, you managed to help him get up from the floor and back in bed. You left him there for a bit. Gathering everything you would need for the next couple of hours. You went back down and grabbed two glasses of water, along with ibuprofen and a thermometer, wanting to check his temperature immediately. You even fetched a bucket, remembering that sometimes your lover had stomach problems after panic attacks.

In the end, the last object wasn't needed. From then on, even through the fever, Pau slept. When he woke up the next day he didn't remember much, which was to be expected really. He felt tired still, which was normal if you took into account how bad that panic attack was and how he collapsed after.

The rest of the Saturday was passed lounging around, watching movies and cuddling. By that, I mean that you were watching, Pau was... snoozing for a lack of better term. He somehow managed to sleep for quite a while during the day, so with the medication, his fever got down.

You were getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth, when you saw Pau bending over the toilet and vomiting everything he had eaten the whole day. Unfortunately, the rest of the night went similarly and the bucket turned out to be quite useful. Pau woke up more than a couple of times and each time you went with him a rubbed circles on his back. You had no clue what was causing your boyfriend so much pain and at this point you even concedered calling his mum for help.

On Sunday morning, he looked like a zombie. Dead on his feet, trying to keep himself upright. Exhaustion seeping through every pore of his skin. Yet, somehow, he convinced his coach that he could still play. Which he did, with great difficulty. He had to defend against the likes of Mbappé, Vinícius, and Bellingham but he somehow ended up doing alright. He pushed through, like the true warrior that he was.

At some point though, the stomachache became too much for your lover to handle. His coach subbed him off for Christenshen. You were advised from the personnel about what to do if he got worse and the advice was to take him to a hospital. Especially if he kept vomiting everything he ate.

Pau's sickness got the better of him, so that night you found yourself calling his mother from the corridor of the hospital.

"Hola senora Gloria..."

"Y/n, my girl, how are you doing? Is everything alright?" he asked concerned, knowing that if this was a regular call you would have called her from the house phone.

"Not so good, I need you to stay calm... Me and Pau are in the hospital"

"Why love? What's going on?"

"I don't think we should have this conversetion from the phone. It's better if you come here so I can explain properly."

"I'm waking up Robert and getting Irene, we will be here in a bit dear, hang in there..."

After saying goodbye to one another you hang up. You sat on the empty corridor, waiting for a doctor to tell you what was wrong with the love of your life but no such information came. Fortunately, the rest of his family arrived a bit later, so you weren't alone anymore.

"My dear, what's going on? Is he okay?" Gloria asked concerned

"Since last week, he hasn't been sleeping all that much. So I convinced him to stay at mine for a couple of days. Hoping that he would be calmer. Friday night he had a severe panic attack but we managed it in the end and since he had Saturday off, I let him sleep as much as possible. Unfortunately, his stomach couldn't handle anything that he ate. He played today and I guess it got even worse. The team doctors told me that if he got worse I should get him to a hospital, so here we are..."

"Oh my god... why though? Do you think he ate something bad or..?" Robert, his father asked.

"I honestly don't know. I cooked pasta and soup when we were at home, before that I have no clue what he ate at La Masia, but I highly doubt it was any of those... I'm just waiting for the doctors to come back and tell me what's going on with the tests but nobody has informed me yet."

"Y/n, you didn't say why you brought him in though..."

"I- that really scared me... he went t-to take a shower to feel a bit better while I cleaned up around the house. He-e collapsed, like almost passed out, he hit his head a bit but he was still awake at the time. He didn't bleed or anothing either and he was coherent. He was really dizzy though and I was not gonna take a chance with a head injury..." at this point you were shaking more than a bit, your eyes shone with tears, you got so scared at that moment when you saw him on the ground, barely awake.

"Dear, you did good, take a breath for me, si? In and out..." Gloria guided, wanting to make sure you wouldn't have a full-blown anxiety attack.

As you calmed down, a doctor finally came over.

"We carried out multiple tests, for most we have clear answers. My first diagnosis is that he is extremely stressed and amids that he cought a bug which caused the vomiting. I want to see the rest of the exams but I'm pretty sure that's it and he has not something more serious. However, I highly suggest of you, and I will most definetely contact the team doctors too, that he needs to be closely monitored for anxiety. We will talk about that on a later date. You can go see him now." the doctor said and guided us to Pau's room.

And there he was. Lying in bed, looking as pale as the bedsheets that he was covered with, his eyes closed and yet he didn't look calm, nor peaceful. He didn't look like he was resting. He looked to be in pain, exhausted, torn apart.

"Doc, is he okay? He looks to be in pain..." you said

"Perhaps the pain relievers haven't kicked in yet, I'll talk about it with the nurse that handles his doses and we will maybe find a better solution."

"Thank you."

You and the rest of his family went inside. You and Irene sat on one side, their parents on the other. He was so out of it that he didn't even hear you come in the room. You took his right hand in yours, Irene let her own hand fall below his knee. Both of you really just trying to reassure yourselves that he was okay., even though he didn't quite look the part.

"So, let's address the elephant in the room, what are we going to do about this anxiety of his?" Glorias asked the rest of you, worry painting her features, those features she and your boyfriend shared so obviously.

"I think he needs to see a therapist, like a professional, a psychologist. It could help him, no?" his father said

"I agree" said Irene from next to you, her voice quiet.

"Me three. And I'm going to do something that will probably get him a bit mad..."

"What's that nina?" asked Robert.

"I'm going to find a way to attend all of his games. I don't know how just yet but I've been thinking a lot about it lately. I have finished my PhD and my company is basically working on autopilot. The rest of my business can be handled through calls and internet meetings. So, I can possibly travel with him for games. That way I can make sure that he is not too stressed..."

"Amor..." Pau's voice hoarse

"Don't do that please... don't put your life on hold for me..." he said quietly.

"Hermoso, I will do everything for you. Everything, you hear me? You are my whole world. My desicion is final. I'll make a way to be there for you, always, no matter how far away is the match, I'll be there." you said, kissing the back of his hand and looking into his beautiful eyes, green and blue mixing with one another. He squized your hand tighter and gave you a smile. Unfortunately, it quickly turned into a wince.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

A couple of days passed by. On those days a lot of progress had been made. Pau was out of the hospital and back to training. His parents decided that he should stop leaving in the dorm ans started looking for an apartment for him. However, you stopped them.

You sat down in your living room and talked to them about it. You explained how you believed that Pau could stay at yours, if they were okay with it. In the end Pau was still barely an adult while you were 21 years old. You always asked his parents for permission on such things, knowing that there was a need for the existance of trust between you and them.

They agreed easily enough. You see, Pau's family was hesitant when they met you, but in just one afternoon you won them over. They realized that you were perfect for him, as well as a good influence. Always there when he needed you. Not only were you his girlfriend, you also were his closest friend, a confidant, an advisor.

Day by day, things got better. Pau agreed easily about staying with you, even though at first he wasn't sure. You explained to him that you wanted what was best for him and that his parents had agreed with it, but if he wasn't comfortable with the idea they would find a house for him. He agreed that it was the best option. Both for him and for your relationship. You had known each other for a while before you got in a relationship. And even though a bit illegally, you had been dating for a while. Your relationship was stable and you both were looking forward to what the future held...

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

a/n: thoughts?

[izumiphoenix]

Sharess’ Caress: Trying to Feel Whole

(10/? part of “Astarion: In Search of True Self” — [masterpost here])

When we first arrived at Sharess’ Caress during my initial playthrough, I simply said no, and we moved on. But later, I saw others mention something Astarion says during the encounter with the twins - and I realized I needed to see it to understand him better.

I tried returning to Sharess' Caress from the old save file, where we haven't finished his personal quest yet. But the dialogue didn't go the way I saw it discussed, so after researching, I realized that the interactions are different, depending on when you come to the place - before defeating Cazador or after.

But in the end, I couldn't make myself go with it, not with my Tav, Roanael, so in the end I just watched a recording on YouTube (//v;)

If it happens before Cazador, Astarion gently but firmly declines the offer to spend a night with Tav and the drow twins. And it is wonderful to see him feeling safe enough to draw this line and protect his boundaries.

If you say you wouldn’t make him do it, he says, “Don’t be so nice to me! It makes me want to be nice back…” - it is framed like another joke, but he looks touched and sad at the same time.

If you decide to go alone, he shows some disapproval and concern - "Enjoy yourself, of course, but I dearly hope you aren't only having sex because we haven't in a while."

I feel he is trying to hide how much it actually bothers him that he might not be enough, that he can't give you want you want... and that you want it so much you can't wait for him, you still need it here and now, no matter who would be your partner.

Interestingly, this doesn’t even lower his approval (unlike, say, Gale’s) - maybe because Astarion doesn’t feel he has a right to disapprove. But that doesn’t make it any less painful.

What surprised me is that if you go there after defeating Cazador and finishing Astarion’s ark, he agrees, saying now that he is free, he is ready to try doing this again. Astarion tries to sound enthusiastic. He even reassures Tav that if he doesn’t like something, he will run away. But his laugh sounds almost hysterical.

If Tav goes with this alone, Astarion comments: “You have a type, don't you? Elven prostitutes? Again? It's rather embarrassing, dear.”

And while Tav and Astarion are spending time with the drow twins, he says all sorts of things like they are dealing with a professional, and he is being very attentive to everyone, but Tav notices that it’s all instinctual, and he is far away at the moment, clearly dissociating.

This place and situation trigger a lot of traumatic memories. And it also shows that even after we defeated Cazador and Astarion overcame his fear and decided to start a new life - he is still healing, it’s not like he magically recovered in a moment.

This whole episode in the brothel with Astarion is very difficult to see (I'd say it's horrible to do to him, if he didn't agree to this himself when he didn't have to) - but it also shows how deep his wounds are. Even after Cazador is gone, his shadow is still there: even if there is no one forcing him now, he does it to himself, cornering himself into the same patterns without realizing it.

Tragically, once Astarion agrees, the game doesn't allow Tav to change their mind, even if it's clear how distressed he is. But as they proceed, Tav can't help but notice just how skilful and gorgeous Astarion is in bed. He notices their eyes on him and asks why they are looking at him like this, and there is an option to reply, “Just making sure you’re okay.” And Astarion’s reaction is: “I wish to drink… And to be drunk.”

Honestly... it sounds a bit out of place, but it makes it even worse. Because it is not sensual. It is not said of intoxication by pleasure. It's numbness. Falling apart into the same state of performance as those thousands of times when he laid down on his back before.

But the way Astarion tries to push through is not a weakness - it shows how deeply he wants to feel whole again, even if he doesn’t yet know what that looks like. He’s trying to prove to Tav, but even more to himself: I’m free now. I can do this. I’m normal.

And it hurts because he shouldn’t have to.

Because healing is slow, messy, with ups and downs - and that’s perfectly fine.

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<back to masterpost>

[aelxnox]

I ONLY THREW THIS PARTY FOR YOU

warning: angst, mentions of abby, jesse, joel, and ellie. reader is dina's rebound, use of Y/N, pace is kinda fast because i just wanted to get this out of my drafts.

"I wish you'd get here, kiss my face.

Instead, you're somewhere far away.

My nervous energy will stay, I hope you realise one day."

- party 4 u (Charli xcx)

"Come on, people. Let's move!" you eagerly said, eyes wide and hands clasped together as you ran around the room arranging the party.

"Wait, Y/N-" you cut your friend off. "Nope. Don't have time. Gotta move." you grinned and brushed past her to arrange the chairs.

You've been planning for this party for weeks. You begged Maria, you went around the whole town to ask everyone for help, and especially—you prepared yourself.

It's been a year since the tragedy of Jackson happened. When Joel and Jesse died and Ellie left the town to chase after Abby. When she left Dina.

You wanted to give the town new memories. Good ones. You've had enough of the sadness. The grief. You wanted a new chapter with everyone. With her.

After Ellie left, you've become much closer to Dina. You were there for her through ups and downs. When she couldn't handle the pain of losing the people she loved and looking after JJ both at the same time. When all she could do was stare at the farm that Ellie loved. Her drawings. Her clothes that she left behind. And the lingering smell on the sheets that Dina refused to wash.

You were there for her through it all. And she slowly, but surely, healed with your help. Though, you haven't seen her much these past few days. She would always avoid your gaze, speak less, or avoid you completely. You wondered why, you wanted to ask her why. But you knew better than that. So you arranged a party, a party that you're throwing just for her.

The place is already set at last. The chairs are arranged, the lights are on, and the foods and drinks are by the bar. People started coming in and you can't help but let out a few deep breaths to calm your nerves.

This night is special. Because you're going to ask Dina if she would do the honour of being your girlfriend. Of being your partner in life. The one thing that you've thought of and wanted for a long time.

The place was already almost filled by the two folks and all that you have to do is wait for the love of your life.

That's what you did. You drank here and there, ate food, made small talks, and welcomed those who were just coming in.

But the clock already striked 8 and Dina still hasn't come. You were starting to get worried. Maria also had a worried look on her face. Or rather.. concern. You don't know. But she was looking at you with a frown on her eyebrows and her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

You sighed, feeling yout heart beat faster than it has earlier. You clenched your fists and slowly made your way towards the front. In the middle of the room. People's eyes turned to watch your slow movements until you came to a stop.

Your eyes looked around, teeth biting the insides of your cheeks, and breathing ragged.

"Uh.. hi." you forced out a smile and blew raspberries to relieve your awkwardness. "I threw this party to forget about the bad things that has happened to us. The tears, the screams, the pain—I want all of us to forget about it. I want us to open a new chapter, to start life with a clean slate, and just—I don't know, man. Live? Happily?" you chuckled, eyes starting to water. "B-but.. not only did I throw this party for you, my beloved neighbours. I also threw this party for the woman I love.. Dina."

You flashed everyone a relieved smile when you let out what you've always wanted to say. What you've always wanted for everyone to know.

But that smile only faltered when they exchanged murmurs and gave you looks of pity. Your brows furrowed, confused as to what was going on.

You turned to your left, seeing your best friend and Maria cautiously walking towards you. "W-what?" you breathed out, eyes flicking to the both of them.

Maria sighed, jaw clenched and eyes on the floor as if she's finding a way to tell you what she wanted to in a way that won't hurt you.

But no matter how she says it, it would still hurt you.. right?

"I'm sorry, Y/N." she whispered, eyes finally meeting yours. "Sorry for what?" you questioned, voice sounding impatient. "Dina. She's, uh.. I don't know how to say th-"

"Just tell me, Maria." you snapped, teeth gritted as you felt tears well up in your eyes. You could still hear murmurs from every corner of the room and it was starting to make you feel paranoid.

"Dina left." Maria muttered that made your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes slightly widened and you could feel your pulse slow down when her words rang repeatedly in your ears. "What the fuck do you mean?"

"Ellie's back. She came back for them." you scoffed, hand covering your mouth in disbelief. "Back? For what? She left them and wasn't even planning on saying goodbye! She left them alone in that goddamn farm and now she's back? That's it? Ellie came back and Dina just left with her?" you spat, voice filled with venom and anger that's threatening to burst. Your ears watered even more and blurred your visions, your breathing starting to get faster when you finally processed all of it.

Dina left you without saying goodbye. No thank you, no goodbye, and without trace.

"Fuck this. I know you're fucking lying." you chuckled humourlessly and left the party, feet running as fast as they could towards your house. Where you and Dina shared your moments. The intimacy, the laughters, and even the tears.

That house has seen it all. That house is your home. Or was.

You slowly opened the door, hoping for the smell of home cooked meal or Dina's perfume to welcome you. To tell you that Maria was lying. But she wasn't. Your nostrils were only filled by the candles that you bought for yourself.

You let out a choked gasp, knees trembling and you soon fell to the ground—tears spilling out your eyes like they were trying to race. You looks around, seeing that the house looks like before. Before Dina came to live with you.

"No.." you whispered as you shook your eyes as if you're refusing to believe that this is the reality. That she really did leave you.

Dina left you. But unlike Ellie, she left you with nothing. Not her clothes, her sculptures, her poems, not even her smell. You have nothing. She left. She left without a trace. And all you had was that tiny voice in the back of your mind telling you that she was there. But still, Dina became a memory that you would never forget. She didn't exist. And you have no proof that she did.

She's just a lingering chapter in your story, one you can't bring yourself to close. A chapter of what could've been that's forever stuck on repeat.

[maghendearey]

Hi! Can i ask for young Sebastián flirting with the daughter of one driver and she thinks he Its Just kidding but Its for real? Thank you

Sure love.

Race track romance

: When the well known flirt falls in love

Piquet Reader x Seb

(You can think what you want about him (Nelson Piquet) and the rest of the family. And I don't want to give my opinion on him either. I chose him because in every fanfiction I've read along those lines, She was Marks or Jenson's child, and I found both of them a little disturbing due to their ages. He, on the other hand, fits perfectly in terms of age.)

The sun was low on the race track in Malaysia. It was so boring, why did you even have to accompany your brother? The chance of him winning was practically non-existent. And since the sport wasn't your thing anyway, you wanted to be here even less. The only reason you were here, apart from your brother, was the young German with curly hair. Maybe you had a slight thing for him. But honestly, who would blame you? I mean, who wouldn't fall victim to the German driver when he was always making eyes at you and flirting with you. He did that with practically every woman, but that didn't mean it didn't work.

As you passed the Red Bull pit on your way to the pits, you stopped briefly and looked out for Sebastian. But when you couldn't see him and were about to leave again, you immediately felt two arms wrap around you. You immediately smelled the familiar scent. "Seb," you murmured softly. "Hello, my favorite Piquet. Can I have a welcome kiss?" he asked, and even though he'd love to, you knew he couldn't be serious. "You wish," you said with a fake giggle. "And with the selection of family members you know of me, it's not that hard to be your favorite," you added, which elicited a laugh from the young German. "Do you like ' Mein Lieblings Mädchen ' better?" he asked, burying his head in my neck.

"Why are you doing this to me, Seb?" you asked, feeling yourself weaken. "Do something to yourself?" he asked, confused, and before you could think, the next sentence slipped out. "Make me fall in love with you." I immediately blushed, and the smile on Sebastian's face grew. "What makes you think I didn't want that?" he asked boastfully. "Because you flirt with every girl," you said, slightly confused. "Yes, but I don't hug every girl, I don't call every girl my favorite... and more importantly, I don't want every girl to kiss me. But I do want you to, so what do I have to do to make you kiss me?" he asked, smiling broadly. "Maybe go out with me first," and to your surprise, he agreed immediately. What the future would hold, you didn't know yet, but it would be amazing.

I hope you like it. Please leave a Comment, like and reposte.

[nonscathingbullets]

⚠️Warnings: Mentions of body image and insecurities. Bullying.⚠️

Chris Knight x Shy!Chubby!Reader

Class was, once again, rough. You didn't really understand calculus, nor did you care. Now music, that was something you understood better than anything. If you could, you'd just stay in your dorm listening to it on your Walkman all day. On occasion, when you didn't have classes, you would confine yourself to your room, ignoring the world outside completely and the people. It was better that way, in your opinion. Music didn't judge you like you knew people did. Music had a way of being both complex and simple at the same time, and it understood you just as much. Yep. This college sucked in your humble opinion, and there were many more interesting things that you could just as well be doing with your time that didn't involve regurgitating half-baked information for dimwitted professors. You could never express these things, of course. In fact, you had a hard time expressing much of anything at all. Social butterfly was the last thing people saw when they looked at you. For the most part, they saw a closed off weirdo who liked her snacks and herself... oh... and Chris. You really liked Chris. He was really the only person in the whole school you were comfortable enough around to talk to.

"So, what do you think? You coming out with me?" Chris asked, slipping on a pink Hawaiian shirt, adjusting the collar. You looked down at your feet nervously.

"I... I don't know Chris... I look..." You trailed off, over analyzing your own body in the new bikini you'd bought for yourself a week ago. The pudge of your tummy poked out slightly from the blue high-rise bottoms, and your love handles spilled over the edges ever so delicately. But that's not what you saw. You saw what you could only describe as the Stay Puff Marshmallow man from Ghostbusters, which you coincidentally also saw the same day you brought the bathing suit.

"Amazing," he finished stepping in front of you sharply. "You look great... be careful, though. That bathing suit was modified in a lab that specializes in hands-free switches," he added. You looked up at him in obvious confusion, but before you could respond, he chimed in again. "Whenever I see you, I get turned on," he said before letting out an airy laugh. You blushed beet red, giving him a playful punch in the arm.

"Oh, whatever," you chuckled.

"Seriously though, you look great. Stop worrying so much! It's a pool party, remember? It's supposed to be fun!" He exclaimed, throwing a bright orange lei around your neck. "Now, wait here, I'll be right back!" He commanded before disappearing. Already willfully disobeying is order to stay put, you slipped out of the dorm to see if anyone else was in the hallway. You couldn't lie. You were pretty nervous to be seen as scantily clad as you were. Unfortunately, Marissa Freeman happened to be in the hallway at that exact moment. Perfect Marissa, with her long tan legs and perfectly perky breasts. If you weren't feeling insecure before, you certainly were now. You gulped nervously, realizing your presence had, all too quickly, caught her attention.

"Well, look who it is. The round recluse. And what are you wearing?" Her eyes scanned your body as she scoffed, rolling her eyes. You wrapped your arms around your middle, covering up your pudge the best you could, swallowing hard.

"...a b-bathing suit... " You mumbled meekly. She chuckled darkly, taking a step towards you.

It was as if all the air was snatched from your lungs as you stumbled backward. Your legs turned to jello underneath you, and your back hit the wall. "Face it," she sneered, "he would never be with someone who looks like you. He's got too much going for him." You struggled for air as your body slumped to the floor defeated. Your eyes drifted up to the woman towering over you, her eyes glinting with an evil electricity. "If you're going to be fat and ugly, you could at least be smart," she added. Now, you weren't exactly "fat" as she so bluntly put it, but you were a little chubby. She was right about one thing, though. You were an inch away from flunking out of school.

"P-please just go away..." You pleaded barely over a whisper. Deep down, you knew what she was saying was probably true. Chris Knight was practically a certified genius, not to mention good-looking... it was easy for most women to fall for his charm and wit, and you were no exception. He was always kind to you. You became fast friends with him when he took note of your shyness and did everything possible to help you come out of your shell. But now this bitch was in front of you, doing her best to make you feel like absolute shit about yourself. And why? Because Chris didn't give her the time of day three hours ago at lunch, but was more than happy to eat and chat with you? She got close to your face as she grumbled.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll spill this hydrofluoric acid on that ugly shirt of yours, and it'll eat right through your left breast," Chris announced from behind her, holding up a mysterious bottle. Her head whipped fast in his direction, her face baring a shocked look as if she couldn't believe he would speak to her in such a way.

"Ch-Chris?... but..."

"But nothing... leave my friend alone," he snapped back simply. She stomped her foot, letting out an exasperated huff. You sunk back into the wall, now completely mortified that Chris bore witness to such an embarrassment. You were also a bit gutted by his casual use of the word "friend" in reference to you. Surprisingly, she did as she was told and swiftly exited the dormitory, leaving the two of you alone. He helped you up from your spot on the floor and dusted you off softly with his free hand.

"Thanks, Chris..." You spoke, refusing to look at him.

"She's wrong, you know." His words caught you by surprise, causing you to turn your face in his direction.

"Wrong about what?" You questioned barely above a whisper. Your whole body began tingling at the prospect of what his next sentence would be and your breath caught in your throat. He gently snaked his arm around your waist, looking down at you with a sly smile playing on his lips.

"I would absolutely be with someone who looks like you. As a matter of fact..." he whispered, lowering his perfectly plump lips less than an inch away from yours. You froze, your face getting hot. You don't know what could have possibly gotten into you, but somehow, a little bit of bravado found its way to you as you grabbed onto his shirt, now desperate to feel his lips on yours. "You're absolutely beautiful," he continued before kissing you deeply. You returned the kiss eagerly, tightening the grip you had on the fabric. After kissing for what seemed like forever, he finally pulled away so you both could get some air back into your lungs. "And by the way... I only called you my friend, because I wasn't sure if you wanted this. Now I can see that was a mistake." You laughed softly, shaking your head.

"Of course I want you, Chris... I have since I met you," you responded softly. Chris smiled at you again, removing his hands from your waist and running it through his hair. You could tell that even he was a bit nervous, which surprised you. The ever charismatic and charming Chris Knight, nervous over you? Your heart threatened to jump out of your chest. There was one thing that still had you puzzled. "But Chris... why on earth do you have hydrofluoric acid with you? I thought we were going to a pool party..."

"Oh!!" He let out a loud, hearty laugh as he emptied a brown substance from the bottle onto his finger and licked it before letting out an 'mmm'. "It's chocolate syrup. Can't have ice cream sundaes without it!" He grinned from ear to ear. You elbowed him softly in the arm, laughing along with him.

"You dork."

[isyluvsbigboys]

𝖇𝖆𝖉 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖞𝖊𝖊 - 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖇 𝕷𝖆𝕯𝕾

ꕥ Synopsis: After months of working under Caleb, you made a catastrophic mistake that led Caleb to punish you fittingly

—Character: Caleb

—Series: Love and Deep space

—Word count: 1,3k

You've worked under Caleb for almost a year now, doing boring, mundane paperwork as an office lacky. You couldn't complain, the pay was extortionate making city life comfortable for you. You didn't grasp what Caleb's exact job was, you knew he was a colonel of the fleet space, other than that he kept his work life quite secretive. Your interactions with the colonel were kept minimal, there was an aura about him. Dark, obsessive, eerie. You couldn't put your finger on it, your peers say to not cross him, they say to keep your head down and just work. They say he looks at you a certain way, like ownership, like you're prey and he's the hunter. You couldn't help but enjoy the non-existent powerplay your peers had created, like some cat and mouse game, but you keep silent and do your paperwork-- until the unfortunate mistake you made.

"Are you serious?" Caleb scowled, visibly angered. His eyebrows furrowing and hat ever so slightly hiding his eyes. He stood tall over his desk. "Do you even realise what you have done here?"

You had no clue what to say, he made you be at a loss for words in this moment, you tried looking calm- looking serious, not as if you were about to burst into tears at this very second.

"This is multiple emails, top secret government plans, leaked" Caleb exclaimed "LEAKED". Caleb was furious, his fists balled tightly and jaw clenched. Your mistake was catastrophic for his secretive plans he had going on. You set him back months if not years. You tried to think about anything else other than his anger. Like how anger suited him, or his leather gloves, or his stern expression. Anything to make this feel better for yourself.

"Are you even listening to me? I had high expectations for you." He said, in somewhat defeat. He stepped back from his desk with those darkened, lustful eyes. The eyes you were warned about. He walked around behind you and you heard the door lock, you did nothing but look in front of you, heart quickening. You heard his footsteps behind you stopping at the chair, he leaned over you- one hand on the chair, his head next to your ear. "You know, I've been thinking..." Caleb began. "...about you... and how a sweet, innocent, lady like you would work for me?"

You swallowed, you looked up to him "All the bad, bad things your co-workers say about me... and yet my sweet, little lamb stays... here in my grips.." Caleb says slowly, dragging out his works, almost to tease you. He grabs your chin with his index finger and thumb and turns your face to him, moving the chair as well. "C-Caleb i-" You tried to speak. "no. its sir to you, or colonel if that suits you better" Caleb interrupted . You froze in your place as a grin appears on his face. The dynamic grew stronger.

"Every rule you break? any future defiances?. it will be repaid in full." He spoke lowly, almost a whisper. Both hands travelled down your body, landing on your breasts, applying sweet pressure. "Don't you agree, darling?" He asked. You nodded, words intimidated to leave your mouth. "... use your words"

"Y-yes, sir" You replied to him as the smirk turned sly. "Good girl."

Caleb hands massaged your breasts through your clothes, your clothes too thick to feel him, but the warm seeped through. He tucked his head into your neck, placing his lips against your bare neck. your body fell warm incredibly quick, he left wet, open kisses up to your jaw, he bit gently on your ear lobe, tugging it slightly. It hated to admit it but it felt so good. You knew what you were doing was wrong in every way possible, But you let it happen.

Caleb unbuttoned your top from behind to open up your bra to him, he slid his hands underneath the fabric, hands being trapped between your breasts and the fabric of your bra. He shifted his fingers so they rubbed against your nipples, betraying you as they hardened. he gently used his middle fingers to flick your nipples, the sensation of pleasure running like electric through your body. "Oh, darling likes this, huh?" He says cockily, as your head leans back on the headrest, biting your lip. He kisses slow again, from your jaw to your collarbone as he toys with your breasts in all the right ways.

Getting more lustful caleb pulls up your bra, a little hastily, he kneads your breast before giving them slight pinches alighting whispered moans from you. He kisses you on the cheek, as if you were being rewarded for making noise. Before spinning you around to face him, his hand went up to stroke your face. "Do you want more, darling?" you merely looked up at him and he knew your answer. Caleb lifted you up and carried you over to the sofa, he stood you up just before it and sat down, pulling you on him, back against him.

Caleb used this to his advantage and unzipped yours skirt, pulling down your underwear and off, which he pocketed. You lied back half naked on Caleb's rough, leather clothes as his hands run down your now dampened hole. your breath hitched as you felt his warm hand touch you where you only touch yourself. He was teasing, circling around your clit and hole slowly. Dipping hid fingers closer every time. "How would my darling like me to touch her?" He asked, dipping his head in your neck, latching on, sucking your neck. The only noise you could make was shameful moans as he was toying with you, you wriggled your hips, trying to align yourself with his fingers. the tips of his fingers now in your hole. "I see, you are a naughty one, ain't ya" Caleb teased playfully "If you want it, let me see you do it"

You could practically melt away at the moment, knowing what he asked you to do. you moved your body down, swallowing up his middle two fingers, you let out a delightful sigh being ever so slightly filled. you moved your hips on him, using his arms as leverage. his free hand was toying with nipples as you used him for pleasure. It was bliss, it was dirty, you felt so dirty for doing this with your boss. maybe you should fuck up more, right? You let out an array of dirty moans, getting off on the faint groans Caleb was letting out. you moved your hips faster, his hand moving slightly at the same place, making you feel him deeper.

"Do you wanna cum, darling?" He asked you, ever so casually, in a low and sultry voice, his voice could practically make you finished if he kept talking. He didn't even wait for a response, he could feel you wanted it. Caleb adjusted slightly making you pause, he took this advantage to hold down your pubic area with his free hand and move his fingers himself, at a somewhat rough pace, hitting you as deep as he could. "Mmhn~ shit, Caleb" You moaned out, in shudders clearly out of breath. Caleb tortured your sopping hole as he quickly shoved his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds felt like they were echoing around his office, filthy moans alluding from yourself as deep grunt from Caleb were heard, his hardened member pressed tight against your back. "Shitshitshitshi--" You swore repeatedly as it begun becoming too much, craving release.

"Touch yourself, finish princess" Caleb spoke to you in such disgusting sweet way, you reached your free hand down and toyed your clit, pinching it, tapping gently to tease yourself more. Swiping over it slowly, Caleb's hand snaked around your neck gently as he sped up his fingers, now in a 'come hither' motion, your mouth gaped open and a deep moan fell out your mouth, your fingers moved in a circular motion building up friction and coming closer to that release "Oh Caleb~" You moaned out, as you released all over his fingers. your hand went limp as his thrusted slowly, letting you ride out your orgasm slowly "Good girl" He whispered "You're such a good girl"

[egginfroggin]

I don't mean to sound complainy, but one of my pet peeves is when ads, books, or what-have you talk about diabetes being a reversible condition and utterly refuse to specify what kind of diabetes they're talking about.

For those who may not know (and I don't blame you, diabetes is a very complex issue):

Type 1 diabetes is a condition that results from the body attacking itself by specifically destroying insulin-producing cells in the pancreas. These cells, the islets of Langerhans, do not regenerate or divide, and are permanently gone when they die. Type 1 diabetes cannot be reversed, only treated.

Type 2 diabetes is a condition wherein the body does not metabolize carbohydrates, insulin, or glucagon (a hormone produced and stored in the liver; raises blood sugar when released) properly, causing a rise in blood sugar. It may involve insulin resistance or overutilization of glucagon, among other things. In some cases, type 2 diabetes can be reversed, usually through diet and exercise (however, this is not a certain outcome, and some people may need medication).

To summarize:

Type 1 diabetes: body does not produce enough insulin. Permanent condition. Symptoms managed.

Type 2 diabetes: body does not utilize insulin or carbohydrates properly. May be reversed. Often treated with diet and exercise, in addition to medication, if patient is overweight.

Needless to say, that is a very distinct difference! One may even say crucial! After all, they are two conditions that have similar outcomes, but very different causes.

You do not tell a type 1 diabetic, "oh just exercise and eat better, it'll fix it," because, I am so sorry to disappoint, we do not know pancreatic necromancy. If we did, well, then, type 1 wouldn't be an issue, now would it?

I feel like it really isn't hard to put in the two words, "type 2," before "diabetes" in your advertisement or book, yet I keep seeing it. Yes, I know that most diabetics have type 2, but still -- is it really so hard?

(Yes I'm bitter. Back in my wee days of diabetes, when I was still using syringes and lamenting the sheer number of carbs in cake, I was severely disappointed upon finding that the majority of sources claiming that diabetes wasn't permanent were referring to the type that I specifically did not have. Very disappointed. Rub it in, why don't you.)

So, yes, please specify! It could very much save an already-stressed child, teenager, or even an adult (as type 1 can surface in adults as well) a good two hours of fuming and lamenting their lot in life.

Also you'll have fewer enemies with needles at their disposal.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Sophia, the Boston woman from 1875 who haunts a lamp I got at Brimfield: what is a stay at home girlfriend, if you please?

me: well, it's a woman who's financially supported by the man she's dating, and she lives with him and usually keeps house and cooks for him

her: and they're not married?

me: well, no; hence "girlfriend" rather than "wife." I know that may alarm y-

her: oh calm down I know about Kept Women. he has no legal tie to her, though? she has no sort of standing with him in the eyes of the law? only his word that he'll follow through?

me: yes

her: and remind me again- you don't have to be financially dependent on a man anymore, right? there are more than like three careers open to women that will let you support yourself at a decent level now? and society isn't pressuring you 24/7 to get married and stop working outside the home?

me: yes

her: so these women. CHOOSE to be dependent on a man. who could leave them at any moment without legal consequence. because they don't like their jobs. the jobs, while imperfect, that let them live on their own, answerable to no-one

me: yes

her: that had better be some absolutely amazing jewelry they can pawn off if he leaves them, then

me: it's usually not

her: THERE'S NOT EVEN SECURITY JEWELRY?!

me: oh by the way they blame feminism for "having to work"

her:

her: I became fully dependent on my in-laws who hated me, after my husband died two years into our marriage, because I was a 23-year-old orphan with no marketable skills in any avenue besides Running A Household and the only men left unmarried in my social circle were widowers thirty years my senior. I also couldn't establish lines of credit as a widow because the merchants said my husband dying so soon meant that I didn't have stable enough income. and that was entirely legal

me: yeah

her: I'm going to go slam some doors please do not bother me

[helloclancy]

@twenyonepilots had to add your tags bc

literally also in the same cycle it's bananas actually

i love the double album theory with clancy but i really think its meant to be a loop

it’s similar to Vessel in a sense where Vessel takes you on a journey from day to night starting with “i wake up fine and dandy” and ending with “now the night is coming to an end…take pride in what is sure to die”

so its not lost on me that clancy starts with welcome back to trench and ends with what i presume to be blurryface grabbing him by the shoulder

clancy, to me, is really about the cyclical nature of mental health and a decade long fight with depression/suicidal thoughts and having to live and try to grow and keep moving forward as you go through it

and you’re coaching yourself trying desperately not to fall back into the pit of despair even though you know how it works, you know the signs, you see yourself slipping, and you’re reaching out trying to hang on until you reach more stable ground its looking around and realizing that everyone you love is in it too everyone is dealing with their own peaks and valleys and its about reaching your hand out in the dark and hoping someone on the other side grabs on so you can cling to your life-vests, together. its about the constant search for moments of peace and just like how life ebbs and flows it always feels like the second you’re able to take a breath and just sit and listen to the birds chirp and the leaves dance in the breeze….blurryface(fear, self loathing and doubt)comes up and grabs you by the shoulder and rips you right back down the rabbit hole all over again