#apple wasn't even safe from that man

[d-1hater]

real difference between monster high and ever after high is the headmasters

Headless Headmistress Bloodgood has done nothing wrong ever in her life and is the ghouls biggest supporter. source: every g1 movie and just in general monster high content

Grimm’s bitchass is out here gaslight gatekeep girlbossing (read: gaslight gatekeep threatening) a bunch of teenagers daily for funsies. source: all of eah, hard side eyeing chapter 1 of the netflix specials

[5sospenguinqueen]

Lullabies Pt 2 | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: Max left without letting you fully explain. Nearly a year later, he realises he made a mistake when he thinks you're moving on.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst but also fluff. Redemption arc.

Female reader with various faceclaims (pics found on pinterest). Takes place in 2021 with slightly altered timelines.

Main Masterlist

prev.

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Oct

YourUserName just posted

liked by pierregasly, kellypiquet and others

YourUserName a huge thank you to everyone who came to my album release concert! 🥀 a huge apology to anyone who missed out but after such a phenomenal crowd this evening, i'm pleased to announce the GUTS tour coming 2022!!

11,998 comments

User1 a tour!!! release the dates/countries now please and thank you

User2 mother treating us

User3 okay but when she SANG The Grudge with the tears rolling down her cheeks, poured her whole soul into that

→ User4 omg yes, you could legit feel the pain in your own chest

→ User5 no no no because what about the gasp through her sobbing at The Stranger

User6 nobody can tell me that Obsessed wasn't written as a kelly piquet pov

→ User7 haha literally because y/n has never said a bad word about this woman but she is all up in her business 

→ User8 and all up in her likes too from what i saw

User8 not my delusional ass hoping it’s max and that the lighting just made his hair darker

User9 love how she’s still featured on the wags page despite her and max not being a couple for 10 months now

→ User10 legit. they post her more than kelly

User11 i bet max is kicking himself for letting her go now that someone else has realised how much she’s worth 

FutureF1Wag i need to know where f1 wags got that pic from because it’s SOOO much clearer than the one i got

User12 okay but where can i get a man like that because that kiss looks hawt!

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Nov

YourUserName just posted a new story

lilymhe have the best time, babe. brunch debrief tomorrow?

→ YourUserName 11?

→ lilymhe absolutely 

YourBestFriend oo look at you being treated right 

→ YourUserName i know. how sweet

they're sooo pretty as well

→ YourBestFriend you’ve had bigger though 

→ YourUserName don’t do this today 

→ YourBestFriend sorry. be safe. text me when you’re home 

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Dec

User1 max really said, just because i didn't want her doesn't mean anyone else can

→ User2 be serious, he clearly loves her. he just confused his priorities for a hot second

User3 the way these rumours have been floating since max and kelly went social media official though. like everyone has constantly said they're on the rocks since we found out about them

→ User4 literally. like i loved max and y/n but they've both moved on. people are just creating drama because they can't accept that max and y/n aren't together anymore

User5 no because y/n is literally max's forever after and nobody can convince me otherwise

User6 max and y/n are literally each other's one true love. kelly was just the poison apple that leads to their true love's kiss

User7 y/nstappen shippers rise!

User8 she's watching his races again!

User9 she watched him win!!

User10 @ YourBestFriend is just like us for real. you can tell she's been praying for them to get back together

→ User11 she's feeding us crumbs and we're lapping them up

User12 not red bull down here fighting with us in the trenches

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by YourUserName, danielricciardo and others

maxverstappen1 FUCK YEAH! WORLD CHAMP! 🥇🇳🇱 a huge thank you to @ redbullracing for their support throughout the whole season. you made all of this possible.

7,330 comments

redbullracing what a season! here's to many more, champ

christianhorner so unbelievably proud of you! enjoy the celebrations

danielricciardo congrats, mate. couldn't be happier for you. looking forward to celebrating later 🍾

landonorris woohoo! my shirt is still wet from your tears

→ maxverstappen1 don't lie. you cried more than i did

→ landonorris true

mclaren well done, max! an amazing achievement

YourUserName congrats, world champ x

liked by maxverstappen1

→ User13 mama en papa

→ User14 not the best phrase to use when the reason they broke up is due to a miscommunication about having children 

User15 omg omg omg, not a drill, guys. the queen has commented. and max liked!! 

→ User16 user we may not get them back together but i’ll take the tiny trickles of friendship they give us

→ User17 same sis same 

→ User18 may our delulus come trululu

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, carmenmmundt and others

YourUserName so i may have just won my first grammy? my ultimate gratitude to @ lovelessofficial for taking a chance on me when no one else would, the biggest love to those who supported me before i deserved it, and a final huge thank you to the inspiration behind the album 💕🦁

9,556 comments

User1 miss thing, looks like you got more than just your first grammy

→ YourUserName it's definitely a nice collection ;)

francisca.cgomes so proud of you, minha linda 🌼

→ YourUserName couldn't have done it without you pouring wine down my neck, kiks

lilymhe that's my girl!!

YourBestFriend wow, look at that dress. it would look better on my bedroom floor

liked by maxverstappen1

lewishamilton amazing achievement, y/n. well done

→ YourUserName thanks, lewis. you raced so well this season

danielricciardo did somebody say celebratory drinks later? 🥂

maxverstappen1 congrats, grammy winner x

liked by YourUserName

→ lovelessofficial thanks for joining us for the celebrations

→ User2 max was at her after party!!!!

→ User3 over a year after their breakup and we might be getting them back together??

User4 the trophies in their house must be overwhelming 

→ User5 love that we’re talking like they’re already back together

User6 'the inspiration behind the album' is so shady and sweet haha, poor max. i love that he'll be forever reminded of how badly he fumbled

→ User7 what makes you think she's on about max

→ User6 um, she wrote the album after their breakup and used the lion emoji, which she always used in posts about him. read the room, babes

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Jan

YourUserName just posted

liked by victoriaverstappen, charles_leclerc and others

YourUserName happy new year's from me and my loved ones to you and yours (yes, he got drunk after this and ruined the rest of my photos)

13,441 comments

User8 omg omg omg omg!!!

User9 they're back together! they're back together! we win!

charles_leclerc beautiful couple. glad to see you both happy again

danielricciardo yuck. i haven't missed the pda

→ YourUserName you're just jealous you can't be our third

→ danielricciardo every day baby

maxverstappen1 i didn’t ruin them! they just become less pg

→ User10 woah, mr verstappen, we were not familiar with you

redbullracing our favourite trophy winning couple. can't wait to have y/n back in the paddock next month

maxverstappen1 looking forward to all that the future brings us, mijn mooie vrouw 🥰

→ YourUserName mijn lieve echtgenoot 💕

→ User11 um, the pet names!!!

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I know some people said on Danny’s that they wanted it to be longer but this are only planned as a duo series. Sorry, guys! 💕

Baby Fever Angst Series

Tag list

@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @itsjustmyopinionf1 @evesfile @openthenyoor01 @princessria127 @hrrorflm @the-untamed-soul @nataliambc @oliviarodrigostan13 @sweate-r-weathe-r

As always, so sorry if I missed anyone. Thanks for all your support x

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

a little comfort fuck with Spencer Reid after he's back from prison, questioning if you still deserve him after everything that happened. (i love this man a completely normal amount i swear)

LOVE it!! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

SAFE AND SOUND.

spencer reid x fem!reader — smut

word count. 615

warnings. 18+ pinv, cowgirl on the couch, cute comfort stuff. minors dni

You found it difficult to process everything during those months of Spencer's absence, everything almost crumbling around you while your boyfriend sat in a cell for a crime he didn't commit. Every thought went to him, every ounce of energy went to him, every resource went to him, but it wasn't enough. The endless sessions in front of lawyers and his teammates felt almost pointless.

You didn't want to lose hope, especially for someone you love, someone innocent, but it was hard. You and his team struggled, and you couldn't imagine how Spencer was coping with it all - with all the changes.

But then, the day of his release finally rolled around. 

He had been back for almost two hours now: all fresh, clean and showered, tummy full with a hearty homemade meal. He wasn't himself, but as the minutes slowly passed, you began to see him settling back to being home, being safe. Tiny slithers of his old personality creeping back.

It wasn't long before you were rekindling the passion from before those few months, both of you on the couch - you sat atop him, straddling his lap. The full length of his cock, tucked snugly inside your pussy. 

Neither one of you barely moving, the grinding motion of your hips almost non-existent. It was as if your sole focus was to feel one another, to feel the skin of the other after all this time - the concept of cuming being a distant thought. 

His palms rest loosely on your waist, fingers skimming the hem of your baggy tee, the placement only there for your stability. His pretty hazels peered up at you from your slight height advantage, gaze keen as he looks over your features. 

You keep your hands on his face, palms over his cheeks, fingers grazing across his scalp as you hold his head carefully. You, too, kept your attention on your lover, watching those tiny microexpressions play across his face. 

It was as if you were both making sure that this was real, that you weren't imagining it like all those times when you were apart.

But then you notice his countenance change, eyes downcasting, his mere grip on your waist vanishing. The warm spot on your skin growing cold with his absence. 

"What's wrong?" you quietly ask, carefully tilting his face - making him look you in the eye.

He faintly shakes his head, the motion almost delicate. 

You could tell something was on his mind, something gnawing at his thoughts. With Spencer, when something good happened, he was often likely to question it - doubt if he even deserved it. And with him being home after all that time locked away, you knew those prior feelings would resurface, only worse this time around. All you could do was comfort him in the now, hoping that the little bits of love and care and affection you give him would bring him back sooner.

"Please let me be there for you," you murmur, gaze honing in on him. "Let me help."

He frowns softly —a sad smile— the corners of his lips tilting downwards as he brings his hands to the initial spot on your waist. His palms resting firmly over the slight indentation. "I will."

Your thumb glides over the apple of his cheek, pad lovingly swiping over him. "I'm happy you're home," you whisper between the close distance, tucking a messy, unkempt curl behind his ear. "I've missed you."

He presses a kiss to your lips, eyes darting over you. "I've missed you," he utters, voice soft.

You slowly wind over him, cunt dragging over his dick in no particular rhythm. "I'm glad you're back."

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

The First "I Love You" - Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You tell Adam that you love him for the first time, the first of any of his wives to tell him that. Your confession of love leads to Adam showing you just how much he loves you back.

Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pie, Adam being his usual insufferable self, SMUT, MDNI

The world outside of Eden's garden was a dangerous one, but your husband never failed to keep you safe. Adam had told you stories of the garden and how he lived there with Eve, years before your creation as his third wife. His tales of the place he described as Earth's own heavenly paradise where your every need was met always enamored you; for you too wished you could experience it with him by your side.

The possibility of that happening was long gone as soon as Eve bit into the forbidden apple, but without the actions of your predecessors, you wouldn't have come to be. In a way that even you admitted was a little fucked up, you were grateful that things happened the way they did, and you were grateful you got to meet the love of your life.

Adam was an asshole with an ego that was far too big, but at the end of it all, he was the same man who kept you safe during the day, and who held you at night, keeping you warm despite the cold night, just as he was in the present moment.

You snuggled up to him, your head laying on his chest while his hand absentmindedly combed through your hair; the two of you attempting to get some sleep, gazing up at the stars in the night sky. You certainly weren't in the Garden of Eden, but being with him was like your own personal paradise.

You looked up at him. His eyes were half-lidded and threatening to close from his quickly growing need for sleep. He yawned, pulling you closer, an action that earned a gentle smile from you. You leaned up, kissing him softly.

"Fuck was that for?" He questioned. "You tryin' to fuck, babe? Usually, I'd be thrilled, but I'm exhausted as shit right now."

You shook your head. "I just wanted to kiss you, is all." You replied, smiling at him warmly. He gave you a curious look, unfamiliar with the concept of a kiss that was more chaste in nature. Whenever he kissed you, or his previous wives, in the past it was in the throes of a lustful exchange.

"...Why? Do you want something else, or...?" Confusion filled his voice in a rare moment where he wasn't his usual confident, boisterous self. You shook your head. "I wanted to do it because I love you, Adam." Those last four words played on repeat in his head. "I love you, Adam."

The phrase "I love you," had been uttered by a human before; he had said it to Lilith, and then Eve, but never to you. Yet here you were, the first one to say it to him, all of your volition. The feeling in his heart was indescribable to him, something he never felt before, and it felt better than anything else. Knowing that the one he loved felt the same for the first time ever made him feel almost euphoric, and he was determined to get as much out of that feeling as possible.

His lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss. He climbed on top of you, moving his lips down to your neck where he sloppily kissed and nibbled, earning a light moan from you; one of his favorite noises.

"Let me show you just how much I love you back," he said, voice low, his hands moving to your thighs. "You want that, don't you? Tell me just how much you want that, sweetheart." Your legs spread instinctively as he loomed over you, the pale moonlight of the night reflecting off of him and giving him an alluring glow.

"Adam, please," you breathed out, pulling him down, your faces nearly touching. "I want you so much. Make love to me, fill me up, do whatever you want to me—" He silenced you with another kiss, pushing into you slowly. You moaned into him, your arms wrapping around him in an attempt to get as close to him as you possibly could, savoring the intimacy of it all.

His thrusts were slow, yet deep, and the pace had you feeling every single inch of his cock inside of you. It was a welcome contrast to the usual way he fucked you; with quick, rough movements and an eagerness to reach only his climax and not yours. It seemed for once he was fully enjoying the pleasure shared between you, and in no real rush.

"Say it again," He told you, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his speed increased just slightly. "Say you love me, baby." With your mind clouded with pleasure you barely heard him, your only focus being on the way his cock fucked into your pussy. Unsatisfied with your response, he grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look into his eyes filled with arousal, love, and a twinge of desperation.

"Say. It." He growled, each word followed with a sharp thrust that hit your sweet spot head-on.

"I love you—fuck! Adam!—" You threw your head back, arching your back as he rewarded you by speeding up, thick cock stretching you out perfectly with each movement. "Love you—fuck, yes!" You let out a loud moan as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion.

"Gonna fill you up," He groaned, the sound of his hips smacking against yours filling the air. "'I'm gonna get you pregnant, have you do what those other unfaithful bitches couldn't do for me. You probably want that more than anything, to be my perfect little wife who only loves me."

You only nodded at his words, practically drunk off of the feeling of his cock fucking into you so deliciously, your mind clouded with pleasure. Your nails dug into his back as you attempted to ground yourself, your orgasm barreling towards you; its arrival sure to be at any moment.

"Gonna cum—" He warned, moaning out your name in a way that made you even wetter than you already were. "Y-You gonna let me fill you up? Let me–oh shit—" He moaned again as you wrapped your legs around his waist, burying him in deeper and locking him in place at the same time. There was no pulling out now, not like he was going to anyways.

"Loveyouloveyouloveyou—Ah! Fuuuuck!" He growled, his hips stilling, warm cum spilling deep into you. The feeling of him filling you to the brim sent you over the edge, your climax consuming you.

You two remained in silence for a long couple of moments, looking into each other's eyes in a shared adoration before he pulled out, laying next to you. You closed your eyes, satisfied, yet tired.

"Come here," He said, voice gentle, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your waist. "Let's do that shit you always want to do after I fuck your brains out."

You furrowed your brows in a slight confusion before quickly realizing what he meant. You let out a giggle. "You mean cuddle, Adam? You usually just go to sleep afterward. What changed?"

He rolled his eyes in response to your question, trying to hold back the smile sneaking its way onto his face. "Trust me, I'm going to sleep, babe. Might as well hold onto you so you don't sneak off or some shit like all fucking women seem to do."

You ignored the implications of his comment, snuggling up to him. "I love you, Adam. I mean it. I'm not going anywhere."

He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth in his heart from your words. "Love ya, too. Now go to sleep, the man needs to get his rest."

You closed your eyes, the feeling of him tracing imaginary patterns into your back lulling you to sleep. You loved him, and he loved you, even if he was still struggling to fully accept it.

[theostrophywife]

the crush theory.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: london boy by taylor swift.

author’s note: this is just a cute indulgent coffee shop! au with my sweetheart enzo. majorly inspired by all the boyfriend vibes louis has been serving with miss olivia lately. let’s not even talk about the ass grab with his big hands and rings…🫣

Enzo Berkshire never quite managed to master the language of love. 

Despite being a polyglot and a linguistics major, romance remained a complete mystery to him. It wasn't like he could craft a conjugation chart to help him not make a fool of himself in front of the girl of his dreams. When it came to matters of the heart, Enzo often found himself at a loss for words. Perhaps that was the reason why he never mustered up the courage to speak to you. 

Until that one fateful fall morning. 

The kiss of autumn arrived on campus a few weeks into the semester, freeing the city from the grips of the summer heat and bringing with it the changing of leaves and the distinct scent of cinnamon and apples. Enzo shoved his hands into the pockets of his burnt orange corduroy trousers and savored the sound of the jewel toned leaves crunching underneath his loafers. As the wind picked up, he wrapped his chunky knit cardigan tighter around himself to shield against the chilly breeze. 

The ivy covered brick buildings and cobblestone streets faded into the background as he walked past the quad. Deja Brew, the little hole in the wall cafe that Enzo frequented, greeted him like an old friend. The coffee shop was located on the outskirts of campus and was only a short walk from his dorm, which made it the ideal place to conduct his tutoring sessions. Not only was it convenient, but the cozy and quiet ambience provided the perfect setting for Enzo to teach his fellow struggling students. 

As time went on, the choice of location became less about convenience and more about catching a glimpse of you—the surly barista that worked the morning shift. For the past few months, Enzo developed a rather embarrassing crush on you. There was something about your scowl and no bullshit attitude that drew him to you like a moth to a flame. Though in his case, Enzo was perfectly content to hover a safe distance from the proverbial light of your fancy French cigarette lest he get burned. 

Upon first glance, anyone would have been intimidated by you. With your faded band tees, ripped jeans, and scuffed leather boots, Enzo was well aware that a girl like you would never be interested in a bloke who's wardrobe consisted of sweaters with elbow patches, floral print button downs, and neatly pressed pleated trousers. Needless to say, you were way too cool for him. 

Enzo was resigned to merely admiring you from afar, but fate seemed to have other ideas. The bell above the door tinkled softly as he made his way into Deja Brew only to stop dead in his tracks when he spotted you at the register. Usually, you were behind the bar manning the espresso machine during the early morning rush, but not today.

Today, you were front and center. 

Part of him considered walking out the door, but given the fact that the shop was nearly empty, a hasty exit would definitely not go unnoticed. Enzo had no choice but to suck it up and approach the register with resignation. The minute he opened his mouth, he was sure he’d muck things up. 

Enzo swallowed thickly and pushed his round framed glasses further up the bridge of his nose; a nervous habit he developed when he was younger. The erratic beat of his heart echoed in Enzo’s ears as his gaze flickered up to your face, expecting to be greeted with a frown. To his surprise, your lips curved into a small smile once you spotted him. 

“Lemon balm tea with two pumps of peach syrup and a dollop of honey, right?” 

Enzo blinked at the melodious sound of your voice, nearly missing the fact that you’d recited his exact order, which shouldn’t have been surprising given the fact that you’ve been making it for him for months. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little warm inside as you looked at him expectantly. He stared in stunned silence for a moment. 

You furrowed your brow in doubt. “Did I get that wrong?” 

“No, no, it’s right. It’s great. It’s perfect—“ Enzo cleared his throat, mentally kicking himself for rambling. “I’m just surprised that you remembered it.” 

“Of course I remember it, you’re one of my regulars. I’d be a pretty shit barista if I forgot your order.” You cocked your head, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “Speaking of which, do you want your croissant warmed up, Lorenzo?” 

“You know my name?” 

Enzo hadn’t meant to sound so starstruck, but hearing his name come out of your mouth made his heart skip a beat.

“And your social security number too,” you deadpanned. Enzo’s eyes widened, which made you chuckle. “I’m just having a laugh. I promise I won’t commit identity theft against you. Unless you piss me off.” 

You accompanied the statement with a cheeky wink, which only made Enzo even more nervous. 

"Don't look so nervous, peach. I swear I don't bite."

“Right. Sure. Of course,” he stammered. “The tea and the croissant sounds good, Y/N.” The realization that you’ve never told him your name came a beat too late. “It’s on your chest. The name tag, I mean. I wasn’t just staring at your chest. Though I’m sure it’s very nice. Bloody hell, I’ll stop talking now.” 

Enzo cringed at himself, but eased when you laughed. “You’re a strange bloke, Lorenzo.” You said as you began making his drink. “But I’ve got to admit, it’s oddly charming.” 

He chuckled, trying to hide the flush coloring his cheeks. “That seems to be my sweet spot.” 

"As sweet as peaches," you retorted as you added two pumps of peach syrup into his tea. "You'll have to excuse the fruit references. Before I knew your name, I referred to you solely as the peach guy."

"Is that good or bad?"

Enzo hiked his backpack over his shoulder and meandered down the end of the counter where you were topping off his tea with a dollop of honey. You swirled it into a heart pattern before sliding the warm cup into a sleeve. 

"Well, I've never met anyone who's preferred drink could constitute as a dessert, so it's certainly something. You're an enigma, Lorenzo," you said thoughtfully. "Though I think I like peach better. You don't really strike me as a Lorenzo."

“You can call me Enzo. I prefer it over my full name. It sounds so stuffy.” 

“We certainly can’t have that,” you said with a smirk. “Enzo. I like it. It’s rather becoming. Not stuffy at all.” He chuckled as you handed him a brown bag. "I might still call you peach from time to time. Force of habit. You understand, right?"

"Of course," Enzo replied. "El loro viejo no aprende a hablar."

"You kiss your mum with that mouth, peach?"

Enzo flushed. "It's Spanish for the old parrot does not learn to talk. Basically their equivalent of you can't teach an old dog new tricks." He shifted his weight onto his other foot. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't mind if you call me peach or Enzo or whatever else you'd like."

"You're giving me way too much freedom, Enzo. I intend on taking full advantage." You winked as you slid his drink over to him. “Enjoy your croissant. I put a little something extra in there for you.” 

Enzo peered into the bag and saw an extra pastry wrapped in black cellophane next to his croissant. The brownie didn’t look like any of the ones behind the counter, which meant that it was probably homemade. Strange, he wouldn’t have pegged you for a baker. 

“Oh, you really don’t have to—” 

“Nonsense,” you countered, waving off his protests. “Really, you’d be doing me a favor. It’s an experimental recipe of mine, which makes you my guinea pig. As payment, I expect a full report on the brownie tomorrow morning. Don’t hold back either, peach. I want a brutally honest review.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” Enzo said in reassurance. “In any case, your guinea pig will take ample notes.” 

“That would be much appreciated,” you said with a serious nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Enzo-not-Lorenzo.”

Enzo couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

Enzo rubbed his temples, willing the headache forming behind his eyes to vanish. Unfortunately for him, his last tutoring session with Flint seemed to have left a permanent mark. While Enzo usually enjoyed teaching French, Marcus was proving to be a rather difficult case. Not only was Flint unwilling to do the work, the knobhead also spent the entire session leering at you instead of studying the conjugation chart that Enzo poured his blood, sweat, and tears on. 

“Merlin, I have no idea how you deal with rich, smarmy arseholes all day.” 

Enzo looked up to find you seated across the table, sliding a sandwich, a fruit cup, and a bag of crisps towards him without missing a beat. He hadn’t even realized it was already an hour past lunch until his stomach grumbled at the sight of food.

“One could argue that I’m also a rich, smarmy arsehole,” Enzo countered, picking up a grape and popping it into his mouth with a slight smile. “Yet you seem to have no problems dealing with me.” 

“Yes, well, everyone knows I’m just using you for your body. Specifically, your taste buds.” Enzo shook his head in amusement before taking a bite out of the sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly, his favorite. “Besides, how else am I supposed to learn new insults in different languages if I hadn’t met you? Speaking of which, I believe I’m completely justified in saying that Flint is a total gehirnverweigerer.”

“Marcus isn’t so bad. He just needs a bit of a push,” Enzo replied rather unconvincingly. 

“If by a push you mean my boot against his arse, then I wholeheartedly agree.” 

“The French have this saying, petit à petit, l’oiseau fait son nid. In English, it roughly translates to: little by little, the bird builds its nest.” 

“Except Flint isn’t a bird, he’s a twat,” you deadpanned. “The bloke was too busy staring at my arse to even pick up a lick of French. To think, you even made this cute little chart and everything. You have the patience of a saint, Enz.” 

“One of us has to,” Enzo replied as he tore open the bag of wotsits. “Given your proclivity to violence.” 

“Don’t make me take your crisps away, Lorenzo.” 

Shielding his wotsits from your vengeful wrath, Enzo flashed you a saccharine smile. For good measure, he even batted his pretty honey eyes at you. The audacity. “Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite person in the whole entire world?” 

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Berkshire. Now finish your lunch or else I’ll be very cross with you.” 

Enzo smiled to himself, wondering at the fact you were complete strangers until a few weeks ago. Ever since you gifted him with the best brownie he’s ever tasted in his entire life, he became your designated taste tester. Every morning, Enzo would start his day off with his usual lemon tea and whatever new pastry recipe you had chosen to tackle that week. Between the scones and muffins, Enzo learned that you intended on opening your own bakery after uni. Hence, his very important role of reviewing your recipes. 

Granted, Enzo didn’t know how much of a help he actually was given the fact that he thought everything you made was amazing. Still, the novelty of finding a fresh pastry in his bag with a handwritten note from you never failed to brighten his morning. Especially since you signed each one with a crimson kiss print that made him blush every time he laid his eyes upon it. It was safe to say his crush had only gotten worse the more he got to know you. 

As you settled behind the counter to help with the afternoon rush, Enzo attempted to get some work done before classes started for the day. With finals fast approaching, he was caught up on making sure he had everything in order. It wasn’t until Enzo heard a familiar voice when he finally tore his gaze away from his laptop screen. 

Enzo froze as he watched one of his best mates saunter up to the counter. Even from his seat by the window, he could tell that Mattheo was flirting with you. In hindsight, his friend seemed exactly like the type of guy you would go for. The broody bad boy who probably listened to all the obscure bands that you often talked to him about. As Mattheo directed his smoldering gaze at you, Enzo thought he might be violently ill. 

Squinting across the coffee shop, Enzo angrily shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers in an attempt to keep himself from strangling his curly headed friend. 

In a tone that was at least an octave deeper than his regular voice, Mattheo drawled a question at you. “What’s good here?” 

You stared at him pointedly before waving a hand towards the menu. “There’s coffee, there’s pastries. It’s really not rocket science.”

The deadpan delivery combined with the utterly unenthused expression on your face nearly made Enzo snort out loud. It might’ve been an arsehole move to rejoice at Mattheo’s fumble, but he found it immensely satisfying that you seemed to be immune to the infamous Riddle charm. 

“A bit feisty today aren’t we, love? I just wanted to see what the pretty lady behind the counter recommends.” 

Enzo watched in amusement as you slipped on your signature scowl, the one that made him fall for you in the first place. “The pretty lady recommends that you stop holding up the line so she can get to the other customers who actually know what they want.” 

Hiding his smirk, Enzo feigned surprise as a dejected Mattheo plopped down across from him. “Merlin, that was brutal. Is the barista always this mean? I complimented her pins and she stared at me like I’d grown an extra head.” 

“Y/N isn’t really a people person,” Enzo supplied. 

“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo tapped his fingers on the counter. “Let’s just get to class before I embarrass myself any further.”

“That’s probably for the best,” replied Enzo. 

Ignoring Mattheo’s glare, Enzo packed up his laptop and put his tray away. He followed his mate through the throng of people, which had thinned out once more. They were a few steps away from the door when you called out his name. With a raised brow, you held out a pink box. Enzo smiled sheepishly in return. He couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten the dessert of the day. 

“One lemon berry scone. Less tart, per your critique last week.” He took the box from your hands, blushing furiously when your fingers brushed against his. “Have a good class, peach.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll have your full report ready tomorrow.” 

“You better.” Enzo nearly dropped the box when you winked at him. “Later, Berkshire.” 

Smiling to himself, Enzo came face to face with a gaping Mattheo. “For Salazar’s sake, it’s like I don’t even exist.” He muttered before breaking out into a grin. “No wonder my moves had no effect. Mate, she obviously fancies you.” 

Enzo’s cheeks immediately heated as he pushed out into the quad. “What? No. Y/N and I are just really good friends.” 

“Now I understand why you come here so often,” Mattheo remarked. “If the mean hot barista plied me with baked goods and called me peach, I’d be coming here every day.” 

“It's an inside joke about my drink order..." Enzo tried to explain. "The point is, Y/N isn’t mean. She’s actually really nice.” 

“Yeah, because she likes you.” 

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Does too.” Mattheo countered. “Why else would she bake you a scone?” 

“She wants to own a bakery someday. Obviously, that means she needs someone to test her recipes out on,” Enzo explained. “It’s how we became friends.” 

“Right,” Mattheo said with a shit eating grin. “Friends.” 

Enzo rolled his eyes. “Can we just please get to class?” 

“Whatever you say, peach.” 

“I have a theory,” Mattheo announced. 

Enzo sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Not this again, mate.” 

The rest of their friends perked up, abandoning their laptop screens and textbooks in favor of the newest piece of gossip. The little corner of the library that their group had claimed was fairly quiet, which was supposed to be optimal for revising, but Mattheo couldn’t seem to let his conspiracy theory go. He'd been badgering Enzo about it for a week.

“Berkshire here refuses to believe me, but I have it on good authority that Y/N has a crush on him. 

“Y/N,” Theo started, “You mean his mean barista friend? She’s proper fit.” 

“Don’t call her fit,” Enzo replied rather defensively. 

“A little touchy there, Berkshire.” Regulus said with a chuckle. “Is that jealousy I sense?” 

“For the millionth time, Y/N and I are just friends.” 

“Is that the same friend that makes all those tasty pastries for you?” Draco asked with a raised brow. “I’ve seen the cute little notes she leaves for you posted all around your dorm. With the adorable kiss prints and hearts. Seems to me like Mattheo’s right. Y/N’s sweet on you, cousin.” 

“Do me a favour and stop being a snooping twat, cousin.” Enzo retorted with a frown. “Y/N’s just being nice. It’s what friends do.”

“None of my mates have ever gone out of their way to bake me a bloody thing,” Blaise declared in feigned offense as he wrapped an arm around Pansy. 

“Yes, well, none of your mates even know where the oven is located, let alone how to operate it,” replied his girlfriend. Pansy smiled at Enzo. “Besides, I think their friendship is sweet.” 

“Thanks, Pans.” 

“So you don’t fancy Y/N?” Theo asked. Enzo opened his mouth then closed it. He was well aware that his friend was baiting him, but he refused to fall into Theo’s trap. 

“Like I said, we’re friends.” 

“In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I asked for her number, right?” 

As a matter of fact, Enzo did fucking mind. He minded very much. Too much, probably. But he couldn’t very well say that out loud. Instead, he masked his scowl and returned his attention to revising. 

“Knock yourself out, mate.” 

Theo smirked. “Alright then, let’s go.” 

“Go where?” Enzo asked disinterestedly, flipping through his study sheet for Latin. 

“To Deja Brew,” Theo replied smugly. “We all need a study break, anyways.” 

“You want to go there? Right now?” With each question, Enzo’s death grip tightened on his notes. “To ask for Y/N’s number?” 

“That shouldn’t be a problem, right? In fact, maybe you could introduce us.” 

Enzo would rather walk on hot coals. “I think I'll pass. I've already seen her turn Mattheo down and that was brutal enough as it is. I don’t need an encore.”

“Riddle’s probably not her type.” 

Mattheo frowned, crossing his arms. “I’m everyone’s type.” 

Theo chuckled. “Apparently not hers. Perhaps she’d prefer a handsome Italian, no?” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “In your dreams, Nott.” 

“Now I’m intrigued,” exclaimed Blaise. “I’d never miss an opportunity to witness Theodore get humbled. Are you sure you’re ready for a woman like Y/N, Nott?” 

“Please,” Theo scoffed. “I was born ready.” 

Against his will, Enzo found himself at Deja Brew ten minutes later. In his usual corner by the window, he brooded like a petulant child. This was a horrible, terrible, and idiotic idea. All he wanted to do was revise and now his study session had been hijacked just so he could watch Theo flirt with the girl he fancied. 

“You know, you can put a stop to this any time you’d like,” Mattheo said in a sing-songy voice. “Just admit that my theory is right. Y/N has a crush on you and I’m willing to bet that the feeling is mutual. Isn’t it, Berkshire?” 

Enzo crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. Instead of giving into Mattheo’s childish pursuits, he opened his laptop and pretended to be immersed with Russian translations. 

“Have it your way, Enzo.” Regulus declared, nodding towards the register. “Nott’s about to give us a show.” 

As irritated as he was with his friends, Enzo couldn’t tear his gaze away. Theo marched up to the counter with swagger and confidence, slipping on his signature smirk. You looked up from your phone screen, giving the tall and lanky boy a sweeping gaze. The unenthused expression on your face screamed that you weren’t at all impressed.

“Y/N, is it?” Theo drawled, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron. “A pretty name for a pretty lady.” 

“Thanks,” you deadpanned. “My parents gave it to me. Now what can I get started for you?” 

“Aren’t you going to ask me for my name?” 

“I know who you are,” you replied dismissively. “One of Enzo’s friends, right? I heard about your little stunt in the fountain. You know, December’s not really a smart time to go skinny dipping.” Theo flushed as your eyes trailed down to his crotch. “Certain parts shrivel in the cold, Nott.” 

“I assure you, my parts were perfectly intact.” 

“That’s not what Katie Bell said,” you countered, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “I believe I heard something about shrinkage.” Theo opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. “I’ll tell you what, Theodore. Why don’t I fix you up a cappuccino? It’ll help keep you and your parts warm and cozy.” 

Enzo bit his lip to keep himself from bursting into laughter. The rest of his friends snickered as they watched a dejected Theo return to the table. 

Regulus snorted as he sat back down in defeat. “Merlin, that was hard to watch. Absolutely brutal, really.” 

Theo glared at Regulus in response. “I’d like to see you do better, Black.” 

Regulus winked. “Watch and learn, boys.” 

The older boy had about as much luck as Theo. Though the attempts had put him in a foul mood at first, Enzo was absolutely elated as he watched you turn down his friends. Regulus received an eye roll while Draco reeled from the head to toe once-over that humbled the absolute hell out of him. 

“It’s useless,” his cousin mumbled. “She hates everyone.” 

“Or maybe Y/N just doesn’t appreciate random blokes chatting her up while she’s trying to do her job,” Pansy said with an eye roll. 

“Oh bloody hell, here she comes.” Regulus muttered under his breath. “I don’t think my ego can take another hit.” 

The boys cowered as you came closer, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Instead, you set a fresh mug of tea and a lemon scone down in front of Enzo. 

“Last one, I promise. It’s finally perfect this time.” 

“You said that the last three times,” Enzo said with a chuckle. “They were all brilliant, by the way. Not that you listen to my well crafted reviews.” 

“You say that about everything I make, Enz. Honestly, a girl bakes you a couple of treats and suddenly I’m the best thing since sliced bread.” 

“I’m just being honest,” he replied with a shrug. “You couldn’t bake a single bad pastry if you tried.” 

“I’d like to try a pastry,” Mattheo interjected. 

You tore your attention away from Enzo. The smile that you reserved for him transformed into a scowl, your entire body language turning stern. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?” 

“Riddle,” Mattheo supplied. “Mattheo Riddle.” 

“Right,” you said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “My pastries aren’t for sale. You’re more than welcome to try the day-old brownie behind the counter though. If you can manage to chew through it.” 

Mattheo sputtered, but you paid no mind to his aghast expression. Enzo fought the urge to kiss you right then and there. 

“Closing again tonight?” he asked, ignoring the blatant stares from the rest of his friends. 

“Unfortunately. Diggory bailed again. Probably too busy snogging Cho to come in for his shift,” you said with an eye roll. 

“Leave those lovebirds alone,” Enzo quipped back. “They’re in their honeymoon phase.” 

“I can’t for the life of me understand how they aren’t sick of each other by now.” 

“That’s because you’re a mean old grump.” You glared at him, which only made Enzo smile. “Luckily for you, that doesn’t deter me. I’ll come keep you company if you want. I promise to be way more entertaining than Cedric.” 

“It’s not a hard task to accomplish, but I’ll take you up on it nonetheless.” 

“I thought you might say that,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll meet you back here after my last class. Pad Thai tonight?” 

You nodded and grinned back. “This is why you’re my favorite, peach.” 

The boys gaped as you ruffled his hair in parting. They waited until you were out of earshot before launching into a tirade. 

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“Just friends my arse.”

“I can’t believe she actually smiled at you!” 

“It’s strange how treating Y/N like an actual human being instead of pestering her while she’s trying to work yields such positive results,” Pansy retorted. “I think you all need to start following Enzo’s example. Clearly he’s had more success than you lot.” 

Blaise patted Enzo on the back. “Mate, you might be the most oblivious bloke in all of Britain, but you’d have to be an absolute knobhead not to see what’s right in front of you.” 

He hummed in response, glancing up at the exact same time that your gaze met his from across the room. You winked, making him blush furiously. Merlin, you were pretty. It was honestly unfair. Maybe Zabini was onto something.

When it came to you, even Enzo had to agree that he was a total and absolute knobhead.

Later that night, Enzo helped you clear the plates and mugs as the last customers trickled out of Deja Brew. The soft sounds of your perfectly curated playlist trickled over the speakers as you flipped the sign to closed. He watched with a small smile as you hopped up onto the counter and beckoned him over. The fairy lights twinkled above the ceiling, illuminating your smile as Enzo took his place next to you. 

The sight of you grinning up at him tugged at his heartstrings. There were coffee stains on your jeans and apron, your thick hair was falling out of its braid, and a cold bowl of Pad Thai awaited in your lap and yet he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. 

“Aren’t you glad Cedric bailed?” Enzo teased, knocking his shoulder with yours. “Now you get to enjoy cold noodles with your favorite person.” 

You chuckled, nudging him back. “I suppose this is nicer than listening to Diggory ramble on about Quidditch. It’s always bludger this, bludger that. I honestly considered bludgeoning him myself.” 

“To be fair, the man could merely breathe and you’d still find a way to be annoyed by it.” 

“No one needs to inhale that much oxygen.”

“I rest my case, you mean old grump.” 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “You know, if anyone else called me that I’d poke their eye out with a fork.” Enzo chuckled as you stabbed into your bowl of noodles. “Besides, I have every right to be grumpy. It’s been a long day. Thanks to your incessant little friends.” 

“I’m sorry about the guys,” he said earnestly. “I tried to talk them out of flirting with you, but they’ve got this crazy theory.” 

“Oh?” You asked, raising a brow. “What’s the theory, then?” 

Enzo flushed, avoiding your gaze. “They uh…” He cleared his throat and stared at his shoes. “They think you fancy me.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe they’re not idiots after all. Your friends are right. I do fancy you.” 

White noise rushed through his ears. Enzo’s mouth fell open as he met your gaze. Surely, he hadn’t heard you correctly. 

“You alright there, peach?” 

“You…” Enzo trailed off, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You like me?” 

You chuckled. “I have for a bit. Thanks for finally noticing.” 

“How?” Enzo muttered. “What?” He cocked his head, trying to search for the proper words. “Why?” 

At the moment, it appeared that one syllable words were the full extent of his vocabulary. All those languages in his head and yet he couldn’t form a single coherent sentence. 

“Enz, I know your drink order by heart,” you explained softly. “I make you cupcakes and muffins. I write you notes every day. I thought I made myself pretty obvious.” 

“Gods,” he breathed, silently reprimanding himself. “I really am the most oblivious bloke in Britain.” Enzo licked his lips, turning over to look at you. “I just thought you were being nice.” 

“Lorenzo, when have I ever been nice to anyone?” 

“I am a bloody idiot.” 

“You never made a move, so I just thought you didn’t see me that way. Which is fine, by the way. I don’t mind being friends.” 

Enzo turned so fast he nearly smacked into the register. “Are you kidding? I’ve had a crush on you for months. You’re the best part of my day. Waking up and knowing that I get to see you every morning is the only thing that gets me out of bed.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You’re out of my league. You’re smart and funny and not to mention way too cool. Honestly, I thought you’d go for someone like Mattheo or Theo or literally anyone else but me. Someone a little more…” he trailed off, waving a hand over you. 

“Scary?” 

“No! Well, yes. Someone more confident and intimidating.” 

“Bad boys aren’t really my type.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “They’re not?” 

“No,” you said, setting down your food and turning over to face him. “My type is a nerdy linguistics major who teaches me how to curse in six different languages and who makes cute little conjugation charts and orders drinks that should quite frankly classify as a dessert.” 

Enzo’s smile grew wider. "I like you too, you know. A lot. Like, embarrassingly so. With your grumpy little scowl and all black wardrobe and dry humor. I like all of it."

You beamed as Enzo leaned closer, tracing your lips like he was trying to commit the curves of your smile to his memory. His heart pounded in his chest as your eyes flickered up to meet his.

"Then kiss me like you mean it, Enzo."

Despite your confidence, the air left your lungs as soon as Enzo cradled your face in his hands. The twinkling lights made his brown eyes shimmer like pools of honey in the dark. The tension stretched between you as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing yours ever so gently. They briefly closed around yours—tasting, testing, taunting. Then the dam broke free.

Enzo pressed you closer and kissed you like his life depended on it. You smiled against his lips, melting into his touch as he tilted your head back for more. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as Enzo sighed into your mouth, his lips molding perfectly against yours. The once shy and experimental kisses turned needy and passionate, making you feel slightly lightheaded. Enzo savored your soft sighs, kissing you over and over again to elicit more.

It wasn't until you felt like the air had been depleted from your lungs when he finally relented. He pressed his forehead against yours, noses brushing as you both grinned at each other. It felt right to be this close. It felt like you were made to do this all along. Enzo brushed his thumb over your cheek, looking dazed as he pulled back to look at you. 

“It’s about time, Berkshire.” 

“Hey,” Enzo grumbled, pecking at your lips. “You can’t blame me. I couldn’t even look at you without blushing and making a fool of myself. You’re so intimidating.” 

“Not so scary now, am I?” 

“Oh no, I’m still terrified of you. But I’ve also seen you cry during the Notebook, so I know that deep down inside, you’re just a big softie.” 

You started to protest, but Enzo just leaned in and kissed you again. With his lips pressed against yours, you couldn’t even remember what you were about to say. As he pulled you into his lap, you heard cheers coming from outside. Behind the glass window, his friends were cheering and wolf-whistling rather obnoxiously on the street. 

Enzo responded by flicking them off and kissing you even harder, pressing your bodies together as you giggled. He hauled you to your feet, his arms circling around your waist as he dipped you for a better angle. Your back hit the counter as you raised to your tiptoes, winding your arms around his neck and mussing up his hair as you arched for more. The hollering only grew more incessant when Enzo grabbed your ass and squeezed. The groan that escaped from his mouth made you dizzy with desire.

If one kiss could elicit such a response out of you, it was almost scary to think what else Enzo had in his arsenal. A cheeky little smile curved against his lips as though he knew exactly what you were thinking. You basked under the warmth of his gaze, feeling flushed and flustered. That pretty face had you entirely fooled. Enzo was far from innocent.

“Gods, I really fucking fancy you.”

With a smile, you kissed the tip of his nose. “I really fucking fancy you too, peach.” 

Despite the many languages in Enzo's arsenal, no phrase or saying could convey how he felt better than his lips against yours. Maybe he hadn't quite mastered the language of love, but he had a feeling that you'd be more than willing to teach him.

[animelover28sworld]

When You Say The Safe Word.

Characters: Scaramouche, Zhongli, wriothesley, Kaeya and Tighnari

Warnings: NSFW, hair pulling, name calling, teasing, double cocks (Zhongli) slight breeding kink, unprotected sex

Info: saying the safe word during s3x

A/N: this is my first time writing Genshin smut so it will be bad so please bare with me a bit plus half of this was written late at night.

WRIOTHESLEY

Don't get me wrong, you love rough sex with WRIOTHESLEY but today was a lot rougher than usual. He had a long day at the fortress of meropide and you understood that plus hardly gets any days or nights off. So tonight he was rough, all it started out was a simple kiss then turned out to be a heated make out session then to sex. He was pounding into you like there was no tomorrow while gripping your hips hard enough that you knew that there were going to be bruises the next day, but you couldn't take it any more "pine- pineapple." You choked out but he didn't hear you and just kept going. "wriothesley pineapple!" You said, that time he heard you and completely stopped what he was doing and took his hands off of you. "are you okay love?" wriothesley asked you. "Y-yeah you were just a lot rougher than usual..." You told him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean too." He apologized. "I know you are." You told him. "Do you need anything?" He asked you. "a nice warm bath would do and cuddles." You told him. "Your wish is my command." Wriothesley told you.

KAEYA

Oh boy, you think you would have to use the safe word with KAEYA a lot but actually you never really did, even when both of you got drunk he was gentle with you. Except for tonight, you honestly didn't know what got into Kaeya, you saw this side of Kaeya before but this felt different somehow. He had you on all fours pushing your head into the pillows, mascara running down your face from the pleasure, but then it got too much for you, it felt like you could barely breathe because when you wanted to come back up for air Kaeya just pushed your head down. "K-Kaeya apple!" You said before he could push your head back down. When he heard that he stopped, then you sat up coughing. "I'm sorry, I was a little rough wasn't I?" Kaeya asked you. "A little? More like more rough." You told him. "I'll run you a bath okay?" Kaeya told you. You nodded your head "okay"

SCARAMOUCHE

Now with SCARAMOUCHE you always have rough sex, very much like Kaeya he would have you on all fours but instead pushing your head into the pillows he would pull your hair up and never give you any breaks. "Hah you like that you slut?" Scaramouche said as he pulled your hair up. You whined yes you did like it but it got too much for you. "Scara orange." You whined, he clicked his tongue and let go of your hair so let go of you. "You were taking me so well what changed?" He asked you almost it sounded like he was mocking you but you knew he actually cared. You were too tired to say anything. Scaramouche sighed "I'll get a bath ready..."

ZHONGLI

You gotta remember that ZHONGLI is a dragon that has a human form so usually he has a heat cycle. Which usually means he gets heat cycles as weird as it sounds it's true, anyways this isn't your first time having sex with Zhongli while he's in heat. It's usually not that bad but this time it was bad, he put you in a mating position you found out that Zhongli had a breeding kink while he's in heat so all he could think about right now was stuff you full of his cum, he wasn't slowing down and you know he wouldn't be slowing down any time soon, plus it didn't help taking both of his cocks in you, usually you would do one but you thought why not tried the other one and man did you regret it because you felt like you could barely breath. "Zhongli b-blue." You croaked out. You heard him growl when you said that, was he pouting? "Are you okay Y/N?" Zhongli asked you as he sat you up. "I just need a break..." You told Zhongli, your voice was a little scratched out from all the screaming and moaning, he got you a cup of water. "Stay here I'll run a bath." Zhongli told you.

TIGHNARI

(I don't know who's fanart of this is Tighnari but all the credits go the the artist)

like Zhongli TIGHNARI has a heat cycle he usually gets through it with medicine, it doesn't totally get him through his cycle but it makes it a lot less painful for him. but it doesn't help when you are around because the medicine doesn't do shit for him, all he thinks about is taking you right then and there. which he currently doing once he got home to you. "Do you know how much I craved for you all day?" Tighnari asked you rutting into you, you couldn't say that much because Tighnari was literally fucked you out of your mind and too rough. "Tighna-Tighnari Kiwi." You groaned out. When he heard that he stopped and looked at you, and saw you completely wore out. "I'll get you a towel and you glass of water and get a shower running." He told you. "Okay." Is all you could say.

[ranpazz]

CHOKE ME BITE ME!!

cw ; sub!dazai, fem!reader, choking, p in v sex, unprotected sex (stay safe), slight degradation(she calls him a freak and a slut), not proofread

a/n ; no I didn't write this to distract from wicked games idk what ur talking abt.

Dazai hates pain. At least that's what he tells everyone, but you knew otherwise. Well, if the way he was writhing with your hand around his throat had anything to do with it.

“mmfph! Baby I– hngh– need more– c’mon, please-” he begged, bucking his hips up into your sweet cunt, desperate for more friction that you refused to offer. You clicked your tongue, applying more pressure to his throat, cutting off his oxygen.

“You're a freak, Osamu– getting off to this?” You questioned, emphasizing your point by wrapping your other hand around his pretty neck. His cock twitched against your cervix at the action, tossing his head back with a choked moan. “Yes– please– haah– I need more, please move–”

You'd be lying if you said that having a man like Dazai plead beneath you didn't flip a switch. A satisfied hum bubbled in the back of your throat as you raised your hips enough to his tip before slamming down on him.

“Aargh! Fuck! Don't– don't stop, please-” He cried, his jaw clenching from pleasure. You wish you had your phone to take a picture, he looked breathtaking. His eyes were rolled to the back of his head, hair matted to his forehead, and your lipstick smeared all over his lips. Maybe another time.

“Don't you– fuck– dare cum ‘til I say so, y'damn slut.” You breathed, chasing your release as the coil in your tummy tightened. His hands were holding onto your hips for dear life, there will definitely be marks there tomorrow. You could feel his Adam's apple bob beneath your fingers, a reminder of your previous actions.

Dazai whined for another minute or so, his rambles coming to an end. He was trying not to give away the fact his orgasm was creeping up on him. You could have laughed if he wasn't rearranging your guts right now. However, he still needed too–

“Please, lemme cum– needa– fuuuck– cum inside you, baby–” How could you resist when he asked so nicely? You swallowed thickly as you grew closer to the edge, giving him a brief nod before sinking your teeth into his pale shoulder and grasping his neck tighter than before.

He planted his feet on the bed, thrusting up into you to meet your hips, tearing a moan from your throat. His length slid against your gooey walls, hitting your sweet spots with easy precision. "'samu–! 'm gonna cum– fuck!"

"F-fuck, feels s'good– y'er pussy– haah– feels s'good, so tight, shit!" He cried out, your back arching as his thumb found your clit and drew tight circles on the bud. Your back arched, a broken moan slipping past your lips. "C'mon, cum with me– hnngh– please-"

He always ended up getting his way. It wasn't even a minute later that he was filling your cunt with his hot load, his own orgasm triggering your own. "Osamu– haah fuck!" Your hands finally freed his throat and your jaw fell slack as you reached your release.

Black spots clouded your vision for a moment before you fell limp on his chest, panting heavily as the afterglow settled. His breathing could be heard over your own, a telltale of his need for oxygen. You glanced up at him, his cheeks red and eyes closed as he caught his breath.

"'samu, I didn't–" "No, you didn't go overboard, 'donna." He cut you off, his voice a bit hoarse from your precious endeavors. Those pretty brown eyes of his fluttered open, meeting yours with a soft yet rare look. "I promise."

You took the reassurance with a smile, however, you were suddenly flipped over by Dazai, a hungry look in his eyes. "Now, let's see how much power you have with me on top this time."

[sir3n-s]

Steve's been a sailor for years. He's survived a lot of different "adventures".

Unfortunately, he doesn't know how to survive being left on an Island without any supplies.

He's regretting declining the offer to become a Capitan. If he ever makes it back he's begging for the position.

It's not uncommon for an experienced sailor to join a crew that's brand new for a little to help them out. Steve was happy to do it even.

He just didn't think they would leave him stranded on a island in the middle of the ocean.

Steve didn't know what to do so he just started walking towards the trees.

And he kept walking. For hours, maybe even a day or so.

The sun has left and appeared 3 times so it's been a few days. But he kept walking.

Until he started to hear an alluring melody that felt like it was pulling him towards something.

He kept walking towards it and the louder it got the worst the urge got to find the source.

It was hypnotizing.

Eventually he reached a circle lake that was absolutely beautiful. Crystal clear water, pearls and jewels surrounding the edges, the prettiest rocks he has ever seen.

But sitting on a rock was the source of the sound. A man?

A man with a dark red tail and long black hair. It stopped singing once it saw him.

"You finally made it" the man said, voice as mesmerizing as the song it was singing.

Steve didn't say anything. Just continued to stare.

He made it to what? His death? Is this what he was hallucinating while he died? Out of everything he sees a man with a tail and so many expensive items he could probably buy the whole town Steve was from.

He sat down and leaned against a rock, if he was going to die he was going to die comfortably.

As comfortable as sand can be.

"Not talkative? I thought all humans liked using their voice" it asked sliding into the water and swimming closer, crawling out of the water to try and get closer to him.

It layed on the sand next to Steve just starting at him.

"Do you not have a voice?" It asked.

Steve sighed, "I have a voice but I refuse to talk to someone my imagination made" he closed his eyes.

"You think you can imagine something like me," He can hear the smirk in its voice. "Why do you think I'm fake?" Of course, his mind made someone to make his last moments alive hell.

"Because I've been here for days without food and water in the heat, I'm ovbisouly dying. Now be quiet" Steve spat out, just wanting peace in his last moments.

He seriously hoped Robin won't be to devastated when he doesn't return home.

Suddenly something touched his mouth, he jumped back and opened his eyes. The man was holding a cup filled with water.

"Drink" it commanded.

"I'm not drinking water from a uh whatever you are, it's probably not even clean"

"Its rude to assume the worst, isn't it?"

Steve glared at him.

The man sighed and threw a red apple at him, "at least eat that"

Steve scanned the apple for a moment before deciding it was safe and taking a bite.

"So what will it take for me to convince you that im real and trustworthy?"

Maybe being left on this island wasn't so bad.

[daddysclownboy]

marylily but it's mary, watching lily from afar and wondering why she feels something she's never felt before.

mary clinging to Sirius like a lifeline even though she knows that she can never love him and he can never love her, because what else can she do?

Mary, kissing lily in a game of truth or dare and realising just how much she's always wanted to do that.

Mary and lily, after the party, alone in the corridor and kissing like they'll never stop, kissing so many times afterwards, even though mary has sirius and she knows that he should be enough.

mary, holding back tears as lily tells her they should stop- it's not right to lie to sirius and their friends, neither girl realising the other feels the same way, each believing the other was only with them as an experiment.

mary, loving lily, never stopping loving her even as lily falls out of love and tells mary about james- james who she likes, even though she's always hated him so much.

mary, always so supportive, because she'd do anything for lily, cheering her on even as her heart rips to shreds, watching she and james kiss like the girls never could- like sirius and remus will never be able to- so so jealous and angry but never angry at lily, because how could she ever be?

mary, barely remembering anything from before the fighting and the death, crying when she hears the news or her friends death, safe only in the knowledge that lily, her lily is still safe, even though they barely speak anymore, and all she has left of her are faded photographs and memories of soft lips and green eyes and kindness.

mary, hiding away- hating herself more and more each day for leaving the only people she ever loved behind, hating james and marlene and even sirius for fighting still, but never, ever hating lily.

mary, numb, so numb, crying and laughing and screaming when she hears the news. she can't even hate him- the man she loved like a brother, the man who made her feel like she wasn't alone, the man who turned out to be just like everything he tried to run from- because all she feels is empty, everything that held her to this earth gone in a flash of green. although, maybe not everything.

mary, running like her life depends on it, because it does really, scooping up the baby in her arms and refusing to look at the woman lying beside him, scared of how her love would look now that she can no longer smile, leaving the house and the man who claimed to love lily, but never did, not like mary could, and the man who did love her, but couldn't save her in the end.

mary, frantic as she runs, sobbing and broken into the arms of a man who watched as everyone she ever loved died, needing to cry out and hit but never doing so, because she couldn't spoil the baby like that, not when he was lily's.

mary, never again thinking of red hair and the smell of apple blossom, never again thinking of stars and records and magic, never again remembering the boy who lived, alive for his mother- the only one mary ever truly loved, never again really living, as the man muttered a spell and everything was forgotten as though it never meant a thing.

mary, who survived, unlike the rest, but who never truly breathed again, because how could she live without lily, without her warmth and light and beauty, without her memories.

mary, who lived longer than the rest, but died that night on halloween, as she was always meant to from the moment she fell in love.

[disasterofastory]

Reward (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Reward // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 6/14 Warnings: mommy kink, titfucking, sub!Brahms

Summary: Brahms was a good boy so you reward him.

The tension is thick and heavy in the air. The breakfast on the table is long forgotten since you reminded Brahms of the men coming here to take care of your internet problem. A sigh leaves your lips as you glance at the clock on the wall while the man continues to stare at you with a scowl on his face. There is a deep wrinkle between his brows as he eyes you with opposition and annoyance. His hair is still a mess of dark curls on the top of his head. "We talked about this, Brahms," you break the silence, turning your attention back to the man in front of you. Even though you are afraid he will throw a tantrum even before you can feel the effect of your coffee, you can't help but notice the fullness of his lips as he pouts at you. One of your best decisions was to trim his beard a little. He really looks like a fallen angel.

"Why are you smiling?" He asks, still scowling at you. Even though he wants to use his childlike voice, sleep is still heavy in his tone. "You are just pretty," you tell him honestly, making him blush and turn his gaze away from you for long seconds. "It won't work," he grunts, still not looking at you. Your grin widens at his behavior. Going around the table, you cup his face until he can't avoid your eyes any longer. His large hands slip to your waist automatically to pull you closer. "They won't be here for long," you tell him. "I promise." "I still don't like it." "I know," you nod. "And you don't have to like it, Brahms. I just ask you to be a good boy for me, okay?" He doesn't reply immediately, so you continue. "Can you do that for mommy?" A muffled whine breaks free from his closed lips. Your thumbs smooth over the soft pink of his cheeks. "You can't scare them away, Brahms, and you can't hurt them. They come here to help me." "I won't hurt them if they don't try to hurt or take you away from me." You nod in agreement. "Of course, Brahms, I know you will protect me." His posture straightens at your praising tone. "If you will be a good boy, I will reward you later," you promise him just to make sure he won't cause any chaos behind the walls. "What reward?" "It will be a surprise," you grin at him, playing with the rough hair of his beard. "But we didn't do this before." You already know he will love it.

You can't lie, you are worried about the men the whole time they are in the manor. You watch them from a safe distance while your eyes scan the walls every now and again. You know Brahms is here somewhere. You can hear him. "The house is old," you tell the men when they look at you questioningly when something thuds again. You know your manchild does this on purpose. He can be silent when he wants, but patience is not his strong suit. "Okay," one of the men says after a while. "It should be good." "Thank you," you smile at them, trying to hide your relief when they open the entrance door. "You know our number if something is wrong." "Yes, I know," you nod. "Thank you again, and have a nice day."

When you go back to the living room, Brahms is already there, staring at your laptop with another scowl on his face. "What's wrong?" You ask him. He just shakes his head, still pouting. "You were a bad boy, Brahms," you tell him, getting closer and closer to him. "What?" He asks, almost shocked. "I wasn't." "You made a lot of noises." "But I didn't scare them away," he reasons. "You told me I can't scare or hurt them." Well, he is right. "So you think you deserve your reward?" You coo at him, pushing him onto the couch. You can see his Adam's apple bob as he gulps, staring at you with wide eyes. "Yes," he replies, nodding. "Yes what, Brahms?" Your voice is firmer now, but you can't hide your taunting smirk as you watch him already fidgeting. "Yes, mommy." His tone is already whiny. "I want my reward."

Without saying a word, you climb up to his lap, resting your knees on either side of his hips. Your hands land on his chest and move up to his shoulders to brace yourself against him. "Then kiss me, Brahms." You barely have enough time to end your sentence when he leans even closer and latches his lips on yours. His beard grazes your skin, and his tongue invades your mouth immediately.

He is still inexperienced when it comes to intimate things, but he learns quickly and lets you lead him and teach him the way you want. You love to see him whimper and writhe when you dominate him.

His hands are warm on your hips as he squeezes your flesh there until his hold slips down your ass. His fingers dig into the rough fabric of your jeans, and he grunts with annoyance. "It's okay, Brahmsy," you break away from him for a few seconds. His lips are already swollen and red, and his eyes are glassy with need. So beautiful. "I only need to get rid of my shirt and bra for what I have planned." At the mention of your bra, his hands leave your ass immediately to push and tug on your shirt until they are on the floor. "The bra too, Brahms," you remind him, grinning. You can't help but bask in his star-struck expression.

Maybe your relationship with Brahms Heelshire is not ideal or normal, but you never felt so desired and wanted before him. There are times when you notice him staring at you like you hang the moon, and you can't even imagine leaving him. You are definitely not sane for being with a man who used a doll to live instead of him while he was hiding behind the walls, but at least you found your perfect match.

Cradling his face in your hand, you use your thumb to caress his bottom lip. His mouth opens immediately, tongue peeking out to taste your fingertip. "I love you, Brahms," you tell him, giving him a few seconds so your words can really sink in. His eyes widen, and his lips fall open even more. His hands on you tighten. "Really?" He whispers, shocked. "Yes," you nod, pecking his nose. "I really love you." A loud shriek leaves your throat when he tugs you against him until his face is at the crook of your neck. His breathing is heavy, and his arms around you are almost painful. "I love you too," he murmurs. "I love you so much." For a long while, you just sit on his lap, playing with his hair. Your heart is still wild against your ribcage, and you can feel the vehement pace of his heart on your chest. "So," you break the silence. "Do you want your reward?" You ask him, and even though he nods, he still holds you tightly. "Brahmsy," you coo, leaning closer to his ear so every word you utter trembles through his nerves. "Mommy's tits ache for your mouth." A low whine is your only answer before he pushes you away just enough to take off your bra and latch on your nipple. Brahms squeezes and gropes your breasts for long minutes, letting his saliva soak your skin until it shines under the sunlight filtering through the window. His tongue flicks your other nipple, drawing small circles around the hard pebble as your fingers grab his hair to pull him closer. Your back arches with pleasure. "Make sure mommy's tits are wet, sweet boy," you tell him. "We will need them wet and slippery." "Fuck," he grunts into your cleavage, feasting on your breasts. He sucks, licks, bites, and tugs on you while thinking about how easily he could spend his whole life like this. "That's enough, love," you hum, pushing him away. "It's okay," you peck his lips when he whines and grabs onto you harder. "I promise you will love what I have planned." When he lets you go, still not sure anything is worth enough to let go of your tits, you sink onto the floor between his legs. You sucked him off before like this, but the sight of his hard dick in your mouth still mesmerizes him.

"Don't cum without my permission, Brahmsy," you warn him firmly. Your breath fans over the tip of his cock while your hand strokes his shaft, twisting your fingers around the soft skin. The man can feel his blood pumping as his cock swells into a full hard-on. Brahms wants to whine at your command, but his mind melts the moment you take him back into your mouth, and instead, he grunts as his cock twitches in your wet channel. With your eyes still on the man, your head starts to bob up and down on his erection. Your hand is around his thick base, jerking him in a steady rhythm with your mouth. You slurp and gulp around his cock, letting your tongue swipe over his length wherever you can reach him. Soon, his cock is soaked in your saliva and his pre-cum. Small drops flow down to his balls, making the man whimper and fidget in his seat. "We have to make you nice and wet," you grin up at him when you come up for air, gently squeezing and tugging on his cock to smear your juices all over his shaft while the man huffs and puffs in your hand. A thin layer of sweat shines on his skin, and his cheeks are bright pink. There is a point when he can't even breathe anymore as he watches you spitting on his cock. "Mommy," he cries out, desperate. "Please! Let me-" "No," you tell him, letting go of his cock. The loss of your touch is so sudden that tears gather in his eyes as his erection throbs angrily at you. "Pleasepleaseplease!" "Don't you want to know what I have planned?" You ask him with a feigned gentleness. He can hear the taunting in your words clearly and loudly. "I do," he gasps. "I do." "Good boy," you praise him. "You are my good boy, Brahms. I'm so proud of you." "Fuck!" "Come closer, Brahms," you tell him. "Sit at the edge of the couch." Brahms's whole body feels numb and heavy as he obliges. "Good boy," you tell him again. "And here is your reward because you were such a good boy today." Brahms's inhale is sharp and loud as he watches you cupping your tits to bring it to his cock. His world stops spinning for a second when you press your breasts around him, enveloping his length in your soft warmth. You massage your flesh and his cock slowly and sensually as you stare at him with half-closed eyelids. "Does it feel good, Brahmsy?" You ask him. "So good," he replies. His voice is barely louder than a whisper. He is still shocked at the sight of his cock between your tits and the feeling of your softness around him. The top of his cock appears and disappears in your cleavage, and your nipples are hard peaks between your fingers. "You can move, you know," you grin at him teasingly. "You can fuck mommy's tits if you want."

The angle is a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but Brahms doesn't have enough focus to care about it. Bracing himself on the couch, he starts to move his hips up and down, watching his cock slide between your tits.

Knowing how much he loves your tits, it was a long-time-coming position you wanted to try with him. And you are not disappointed. Your pussy throbs for more, soaking your panties, but your hands are too busy to do anything about it. There is something exciting about the fact that he fucks your tits for his own pleasure. His chest heaves and his muscles tense every now and again. His glassy gaze is on your chest while you stare at his face. His lips are open with occasional whines and grunts falling out of them, and his curls fall in front of his eyes. "You are so beautiful, Brahmsy, fuck," you tell him honestly. The pink of his cheeks deepens. "I don't want you to wear your mask anymore when you are around me, Brahms," you continue. "I don't want anything hiding your pretty face from me." "Mommy," he whines, pumping you faster. You have to tighten your hold to keep your breast around his vehement pushes. With a knowing grin, you bend your neck just the right way so your tongue can reach the tip of his cock every time it appears between the swell of your breasts. Your tongue flicks and swirls around his head, letting your saliva drop as a lubricant. "Fuck!" He gasps again. His balls jerk and his cock swells with blood and the need to cum. "You can cum, Brahms," you tell him. "Cum all over your mommy's tits." The words are barely out of your mouth when his body stiffens, and his cock spurts with cum. His warm seed splashes over your skin, painting your tits and chin.

Brahms has to force his eyes to focus because he will be damned if he doesn't burn the sight of you soaked in his cum deep in his mind.

[lalunanymph]

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you always knew oliver aiku was a bad influence. but just how bad, exactly? let's just say that if your parents ever looked out the window and happened to peep inside oliver's idle sports car, someone is about to get murdered tonight.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you're now reading . . . 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 + 𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐗 with oliver aiku

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── fem!reader, perv!oliver, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, sex in a car, fwb!oliver, repressed feelings, oliver is a jackass, language

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── for the anons who once asked me many moons ago abt oliver corrupting us—this one's for you 🖤

⇤flip back to the pervtober masterlist

“Oli, we can’t do this.”

Your whimpers were lost in the scruff of his neck, a breathy moan released from the tight confines of your lips into the heat of his Porsche’s interior. 

“Mhm.” 

Honestly, if it wasn't for a soft spot you had for Oliver Aiku, you would've stabbed him.

Many men tried to get you in this position, but they could never succeed. 

You were a headstrong woman; tenacious, a hard worker and a corporate climber through and through. You had dated boys who thought the peak of communication was Snapchat streaks and “you up?” texts. But, you had never dated a man like Oliver.

In your defence, ‘dated’ seemed to be a stretch. 

Oliver was a wild ride for sure. 

Tall, handsome, pockets lined full with a pro-athlete salary, he was every girl's wet dream. 

After years in the media industry, you learned to differentiate the bad apples and genuinely lost ones. You have encountered influencers, moguls and celebrities under the scrutiny of your analytical and roaming eye. However, Oliver was an enigma to you. 

Though friendly and approachable to everyone else, you couldn’t help but feel there was a part of him he tried to hide from the world. A part which shredded through football fields and tore men’s hopes and dreams from their white-knuckled clutches. 

Many people had been destroyed by Oliver’s sheer force, both on the field and off of it if his playboy status was anything to go by. And you would be damned if you were going to be one of them. 

“Oli,” you muttered, a little firmer this time. 

The rough strip of his tongue teased your sensitive earlobe and you hissed, flinching from the sudden stimulation. 

“Oliver.” 

“What?” 

He sounded a little pissed off. You may be younger than the girls he was used to, but you were experienced enough from your years networking under intense strain and pressure to figure out when you were on the losing end of a potential relationship. 

With Oliver, it was a constant push and pull. As you moved forward, he pulled back. And for whatever reason, when he decided to reach out, you would hesitate to let him back in.

Anyone would decide that such a relationship—if it could be even called that—was doomed from the beginning.

But, Oliver and you never did have a conventional relationship. 

He saw you as a plaything, and you regarded him as a little bit of fun to unwind after a hectic week. It was a mutual agreement based on a sudden spark of crazy chemistry which neither of you wanted to solidify. 

Those large, rough hands which were used to causing destruction on the field, were parting your thighs softly, reaching for the soft promise of pleasure in between them.

In other circumstances, you would let Oliver have his way with you. But today, you were determined to put up a flimsy boundary—one he was desperate to break. 

“Oliver, my house is just a few feet away.” 

True to your words, the place you rested your head for every night was in the form of your parent’s modest two storey home right in the heart of downtown Tokyo. 

Lace curtains iced its domestic eggshell white walls, keeping you safe in the veil of night and away from prying eyes. But, the thrill laid in the fact that anyone who pulled apart those flimsy curtains could catch a look of you in such a compromising position. The engine of his idle car thrummed underneath your thighs, and you wished you had worn a longer skirt to combat his straying touches. 

If there was one thing Oliver reminded you of, it was a hurricane. His determination and stubbornness pushed him to where he was today—rising high in the world's eye. 

It was one of the traits you admire about him—and one which would change your morals forever. 

“I can’t,” you murmured in a cross between a hitched breath and a soft moan. “Oliver—”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head off. Just let me feel you.”

Those unique dual-tone eyes flashed sincerely under the waning street lamp light. There were times when Oliver’s simple touches and presence could push out the nagging thoughts in your mind, and there were instances when it drew up red flags in your periphery like a race day warning. 

Like speeding down the highway without a seatbelt on, you were sure kissing someone else would never be as enthralling as kissing Oliver Aiku. 

The scruff of his sparse five-o-clock shadow and moustache rubbed on the soft skin of your chin. You tasted the beer he drank for dinner, and a little bit of your own fruity lip gloss in between the curls of his tongue. 

Everything about Oliver was enticing; how he kissed, how he fucked, how he made you feel like you were the only girl in his world when you knew that was the furthest from the reality. He was also attentive when he wasn’t a huge prick. Out of the men you fooled around with, Oliver remembered exactly what you liked and he wasn’t afraid to push those lines. 

His hand was between your thighs again, this time pushing your skirt up inch by agonising inch. You didn’t fight him, too dizzy and weak with lust. He used two thick fingers to pry apart the seat of your panties, already sticky with arousal and ready for the taking. 

“So perfect,” he whispered into your neck. “How're you so perfect for me?” 

Over time, you had to tell yourself it was just words from a man who wanted to lure you into bed and they didn’t mean a thing.

But sometimes, you forgot. You forgot that this wasn’t real, that Oliver doesn’t actually love you. 

It didn’t help that his kisses felt like coming home at the end of a hard day; though already complicated as it was, whatever emotion you both harboured for each other could never be said out loud. 

He tipped your head towards him again, to catch your lips in a languid, teasing kiss that was more tongue than lips. The taste of him sent a thrill down your spine, settling right into your core. 

“Can I feel you, baby? Can I touch you here?” He stroked the soft flesh of your inner thigh with his thumb, locking eyes with you in the half-light. 

They brought you down a spiral; into a light purple and a hazel green tide which tried to rip apart your resolve. 

You were half out of your mind when you nodded, giving your consent with a shaky little sigh. 

He immediately pounced onto that opportunity like a panther to your jugular. 

Using his strength, Oliver dragged you onto his lap, where you fit against his edges snuggly. Those plush lips descended upon yours again, and he kissed away your troubles and worries, only determined to bring towards the brink of giving everything up for him.

Like a riptide, it was no use holding him back. 

Oliver had fucked you in shady motels and even in his practice locker room, but this was new territory. The both of you were within reach of your parents who had no idea of your budding situationship with the famous footballer. 

At the reminder of them, you broke the kiss off with a gasp, pinning your wide eyes onto his half-mast ones.

“Oli, how tinted are these windows?” 

“Really tinted,” he murmured without a shred of hesitation. Despite yourself, you believed him. 

You let him kiss down your neck, bite on your collarbones and pull you back in for more sloppy kisses. Unlike other men, Oliver wasn’t jumping into the main event. 

He took his time to prep you, slipping two fingers through your folds and gathering the slick there to rub along your entire entrance and back hole. Though his movements were jerky, he was still gentle with you—peppering smooches down the bridge of your nose and jaw.

If you were a weaker girl, you were sure your heart would melt into your ruined panties just for Oliver Aiku. 

He hummed, feeling you slowly ease yourself up and down his two fingers, fucking yourself on those static digits.

The first time he met you, Oliver was sure you were an upstuck, prudish type of girl. You weren’t exactly his flavour of woman, but where would the fun be without a challenge? 

He spent weeks pursuing you, doing the cheesy lame boyfriend shit people like Isagi would do for some girl he met two weeks ago. 

But, Oli’s goal was simple: Make someone else who wasn’t his type be into him.

Though you were right here with him, the task felt impossible. It was hard to get a woman who already had everything to take a chance on him. Your life was perfect—great job, great friends, supportive parents.

What could a man like him offer besides sending you to additional therapy sessions on your insurance’s dime? 

Under all the layers of his cocky playboy persona, Oliver knew he was a wreck waiting to implode. He never felt good enough to warrant a spot on Japan’s football team. He was insecure and lacked control in every part of his life except his dating one. 

It was why he went after more soft-willed girls than you.

And why the sight of you undulating your hips over his fingers nearly sent him into overdrive. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out. “You’re really something, huh, Y/N. Look at you—getting yourself off on your own. Good girl.”

Something about his tone and that endearment made both your heart and pussy throb.

“Oli,” you sniffled, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Oliver had barely touched you—he had fondled, kissed and fingered you—yet, you were already dripping for him. 

Such eagerness made your cheeks burn, and you hiccuped more of your moans back, afraid to let him hear.

But, Oliver—as attentive and controlling as he was—could sniff your shame from a mile away. He nudged your face up to look into his, those soft, dual-toned eyes edged with a ring of steel in them that cut through your flimsy bleats. 

“Let go for me,” he urged, brushing the pads of his fingers down your soft cheek, and you lost yourself in his unique eyes and handsome face again. “Don’t be afraid to show your real self to me, angel.”

Again, something in you broke. 

The last flimsy excuse, your remaining shred of dignity… all for you to finally hiccup: “Oliver, please fuck me.” 

That was all the begging he needed. 

Oliver slid his pants and boxers down, far enough for his cock to spring free and leave a smear of pre on your exposed soft belly. Your skirt was around your hips, panties pushed to the side, and that was how he took you. 

The stretch burned, but it was a satisfactory one. Your thighs ached and tears were smarting in your eyes. 

Oliver was bigger than most guys and you weren’t used to taking him without a soft bed and a little more prep work. 

But, you held onto his shoulders, every bit of your skin feeling like it was on fire from trying to hold back your moans. You didn’t want anyone to hear, or for random people to suspect; even when the car frame started to shake or the windows began to fog up. 

This was your tryst with Oliver Aiku; your dirty little secret. 

He pulled you close to kiss you again, and this time, those large hands moved to the front of your shirt, kneading your breasts with an eager vigour. You let him lift the hem up, untuck your bra cups and bathe your slowly stiffening nipples with soft kitten licks. 

Oliver guided your hips to grind down on his cock, while he suckled and tongued your buds to stiffness. The filthy squelch of your pussy coating his length with her excitement and the smack of his lips and tongue turning your nipples into fleshy diamonds echoed through the car. You were lightheaded and felt like someone had spiked your system with alcohol.

The sleek lines of his Porsche’s interior were swimming in your eyes, and you felt like you could faint from the excitement. 

Your internal pressure ticked up a notch when one large palm of his wrapped around your neck, stopping your breath in your throat. If there was one thing you were sure Oliver was made for, it was to drive you insane.

He squeezed down on you, while intermittently fucking into you with clean, sharp thrusts. He kept a consistent pattern—squeeze, fuck, let you breathe, squeeze, fuck…

“Oli!” you wheezed in between those breaths he gifted you, your swimming eyes breaking and tears running down your cheeks. “Oliver…”

“Cum for me,” he coaxed, slipping his thumb in between your lips where you sucked on the tip with what he thought was almost love. He retracted his thumb, glossy with your spit and notched it right on your windpipe, putting pressure.

Oliver watched the ecstasy, fear and lust flash across your expressions, one melange of an erotic sight he would remember forever. 

“Let yourself go, baby,” he urged, squeezing down on your throat, while you felt his abs undulate against the soft planes of your belly—a tell-tale sign he was going to cum. A pinch appeared in his brow, and sweat bulleted down his forehead. 

“G’na—fuck—you’re so tight,” he nearly gasped that last part out. “Pussy so perfect for me. Go on then, give ‘em a show… show everyone how you’re creaming just for me, sweetheart.” 

Just as you were approaching your high where white light was flooding behind your closed lids, Oliver pressed his damp lips to your ear, his whisper cutting through the fog and bringing your climax crashing down like an implosion.

“The windows aren’t actually tinted, baby… everyone just saw you fucking my cock so good.”

Your eyes rolled back into your head, manicured nails stabbing into his shoulders. Despite every fibre of your being yelling at you to stop and hop out from his lap, something darker and sultrier begged you to stay—to give into this ruin. 

Those voices warred and clashed with each other for a few seconds, which felt like an eternity as you were stretched out on another plane of pleasure no one could touch. Your ribs expanded, your spine arched and your toes curled and—

“Oliver!” 

With everything you had, you came for him. 

All the voices in your head stopped; replaced by the chanting of his name over and over again. 

Like he was a prayer and you were the repentant sinner, you sobbed out his name, holding onto his neck like a lifeline and slowly bucking your hips up and down, prolonging the almost cruel pleasure.

Oliver came around the same time you did, with a grunt and his fingers clawing into the doughy flesh of your hips. 

You sagged against him, and through a lapse of judgement, his lips found your temple, leaving a small peck on the sweaty skin.

Oliver held you like you were meant to be cradled. You couldn’t think about anything that occurred within these past few minutes; your mind was on a fever high and your body was melted to his like hot wax pooling into a holder. 

“You okay?” His deep voice rumbled under your cheek.

You nodded, too exhausted to speak.

“Can you walk?” 

Flexing your thighs, you offered another pathetic nod.

“Do you want to stay here for a bit or go?”

You should probably go. After all, it was encroaching a tender territory you dared not ventured through. He felt too good, too comfortable to leave, but you ignored the screaming in your bones when you forced yourself off his lap and back into the passenger seat.

Adjusting your panties, skirt and shirt, you flashed him a tight smile, one which he echoed with an uncertain grin.

For a few seconds, neither of you spoke, and it felt like you were leaving a movie just before the good part came on. 

But, you had already seen multiple films like these before, starring numerous women this great actor before you had duped and jilted. 

You weren’t interested in entering his rotating roster of desperate girls waiting to be picked, so you strengthen your resolve and put your dignity back in the driving seat.

“Bye, Oliver.”

He hummed. “Bye, Y/N. Goodnight.” 

Oliver didn’t offer to see you again, and you didn’t bother mentioning it.

Sometime next week, the both of you would fall back into this toxic cycle—either you would call him up drunk out of your mind or he would get pissed off during his training and call you after to let off some steam. Rinse and repeat. 

Life was predictable like that with Oliver. You didn’t want to disturb the peace.

You got out of his car, adjusting your skirt one more time. Usually, you would never turn back to give him a second glance—out of sight, out of mind.

But, this time, something compelled you to turn around, and when you did, you gasped out loud; nearly running towards his retreating car to smack the roof, the hood or even the lying man behind the wheel. 

Through those crystal clear windows which were obviously not heavily tinted like he promised, Oliver shot you a smirk and a wave, leaving you stewing in both horror and an inexplicable desire to fuck that smug look off his stupidly handsome face as the reality sank in. 

You had fucked Oliver Aiku right in front of your parents, and judging from the silent house behind you and the lack of a usual warm vibe, you were positive they were going to rip through you a new one.

intellectual property of ©️lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or play around with my sentence structures, plots and characterization.

[luboy7rt]

What Animal Los Vaqueros (+ Valeria)   Would Randomly Bring Home To You (GN - Headcanons)

(Note: This is just what I (My headcanons), enjoy reading!)(Could be seen as Platonic, Romantic?) (GN Reader) (Alejandro, Rodolfo and Valeria)

Alejandro Vargas 

- Where did Alejandro find a literal donkey? Neither of you knew, even Alejandro himself didn't know as he walks through the front door, his arms crossed as he watched the donkey peek her head into the kitchen window, pushing her face up against it to see in.

- When Alejandro spots you, his eyes open a bit wide as he bit his inner cheek, before scrambling to make an excuse. He came up with nothing and just admitted he found her while on a mission, and she was hungry and wouldn't stop chewing on Alejandro's shirt.

- Alejandro would chuckle and ask you for some help, cutting up some apples, carrots and bananas for the donkey who tried to get through the front door. Alejandro quickly ran off to ensure she didn't do that.. moving the donkey to the backyard instead.

- He's actually pretty decent at taking care of the donkey, and teased you, asking if you want to feed or ride her. He's joking, please don't ride the donkey, if you do..  He's standing right next to you, prepared to catch you or calm the donkey down so both you and the donkey will be safe.

- Alejandro's willing to find a new farm or home for the donkey if you don't like her, he would indeed tease You about it though, you don't like that cutie of a donkey? Cue the donkey trying to get through the front door, or looking through the kitchen at 3AM, when you go down for a glass of water, you just see eyes peering at you through the window, like hey... whatcha doing here?

- If you do let the donkey stay, cool. New pet, when Alejandro's home, he does care for her, feeds her every morning, brushes her, ensures she's cared for.

- (Alejandro basically just stole a donkey from someone) he shrugs and says he Just found her wandering far from any cities, and she was now his as he didn't find any owners around back then, he definitely wasn't finding one now.

- You will hear the donkey squeal or grunt throughout the night, or early in the morning, It is annoying at first, and you may never get used to It. Alejandro would get agitated after a few mornings of being back from missions and waking up to the donkey making weird noises outside because she got used to being fed whenever she was loud enough so now it became a habit.

- Alejandro would eventually get a small stall built for the donkey, makes it comfortable but also cute looking from the outside. (Also puts extra food to just attempt for the donkey to quiet down the neighbors have complained. You might be too, Alejandro is definitely grumbley about her being so loud, but puts up with it.

- Also ensures there is plenty of room for the donkey to do what she pleases.

- Alejandro once loudly screeched in the middle of the night, you scrambled out of bed when you heard it. Finding the man murmuring in Spanish, throwing insults and curses at the donkey who had her snout pressed against the window, the moon reflecting her eyes to make it ‘scary’ looking if you weren't paying attention.

If you laugh at him he would give you an unhappy half-glare, gently pushed your laughing face away from him as he shook his head, having had thought you put the donkey away in her pen earlier as it was 2AM.

If you attempt to ‘comfort’ him, he's looking away with a tiny blush on his face while laughing, pulling you close while shaking his head, he would put his hand to the window, and knock to get the donkey to go back to her stall that she somehow escaped.

If you just stayed in bed, he's thankful, at least you didn't hear that. But also, why aren't you getting up when you hear that he screeched, he doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing, a tiny bit offended.

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra:

- Rudy was picking you up in his car, a little squirmy as you got in the passenger seat, a little blanket on his lap, murmuring quietly to himself, a little distracted.

- If you ask what was ‘wrong’ Rudy would smile awkwardly and pull the blanket back a little bit, showing the little rabbit with one ear on his lap, the rabbit fast asleep. 

- He would indeed let you hold the rabbit on your lap instead as he drives, he calls the rabbit ‘Stompy’ as the rabbit stomps around to move. He would smile at you, watching you in the passage seat at a stop sign, he would move to pat your head.. then Stompy's head then going back to driving.

- What You didn't know.. there was two more at home, waiting for you. Three baby rabbits, Stompy (who just got home from the vet due to their ear), Chirps, and Flumpy, all siblings. Rudy would give a awkward and sheepish smile while rubbing your shoulder, like a ‘Please, don't be upset with this choice I made’ look on his face.

- If you do like the rabbits, great, Rudy is happy with keeping them, he takes all responsibility when he isn't working. He smiles warmly everytime he sees them, gets a little silently giddy about the fact he was the one to save these rabbits.

- If you don't like the rabbits, he will sigh quiet, but will figure out where to rehome these rabbits, will be upset for a little while, but wouldn't take it out on you. He would still smile sadly at you, but try his best to be supportive. If you have an allergy, he feels less bad about it, and willingly brought them to a new home.

- Rudy would always place the rabbits on you, gently nudging one of rabbits snout against your cheek or your jaw with a smile, would either make a little ‘bonk’ or ‘mwah’ noise when he does.. then places a kiss on your head.

- Rudy does Make little cages for them, ones capable of being a ‘safe place’ for the rabbits, a soft little home for them in his house for then to sleep. Usually lets them ‘free’ around the house, you both could hear Stompy stomp about, always makes sure to keep an eye on the three rabbits.

- His eyes would soften every time he spots you cuddling, holding, or playing with one of the rabbits, his whole body and face relaxing as he never informs you that he is watching from the doorway, just watching quietly with a soft smile on his face.

- You would catch Rudy cutting up carrots to feed them as snacks throughout the day, quietly murmuring praise to the rabbits who followed him around, he would spot you and chuckle, looking a tad bit red as he would smile but quiet down when he was ‘caught’.

Valeria Garza:

- Valeria walks into the house confidently, smiling proudly as she holds a baby fox in her hands. Tilting her head and raising an eyebrow at you, like A silent ask I'd you were bold enough to question what she had done and where she had gotten a baby fox.

- If you don't she keeps smiling, scratching behind the baby fox’s ears, allowing you to pet him as well, but if you do ask to do so, she grabs your hand to pet the fox for you.

- Valeria illegally bought this fox, (the people who sold him have been.. dealt with as well) a beautiful little baby fox with a few small white spots on his orange fur. She held him like he was a new trophy she would bring home to you.

- If you don't like the fox, she will make a face.. Fine, perhaps she could keep the fox at her base instead of home, she will make a proper area for him, that you wouldn't be around.

- If you do like the fox, Valeria looks quite smug, humming in answer as she allows the fox to roam in the home, giving him his own little room. She would ensure his comfort, safety and also give him the best treatment no other animal would ever get.

- You often find Valeria talking on the phone with this little fox on her lap, she could go from harshly ordering people around to talking calmly as if not to scare the fox. The fox gets used to It, your hand could pet his head whilst Valeria's distracted, she would allow you to do what you please as long as you don't bring the fox outside the gated backyard.

-  Valeria treats this fox like her baby, like something that is now apart of her vast collection of things she adores.

- Valeria would randomly bring the baby fox to you, placing him on your lap and telling you to go feed him or go play with him because she's busy and unable or (she just doesn't want to) do it herself. She’d make it up to you later, perhaps a favor.. you want to be done?

- If you are holding or cuddling with the little fox, Valeria would randomly walk past, booping his nose, waiting for a moment, before doing the same to you and then going back to doing what she was doing. No questions asked, none will be answered.

[holidayinhell]

CWs: carewhumper, dubcon touch

“Sorry ‘bout earlier.” 

Whumper waved an apple in front of Whumpee’s face, shiny, bright red and perfect. But Whumpee sat in place catatonically, staring straight forward at the wall behind Whumper.

“Hey. Look at me bud.” 

Whumpee paid him no mind.

The tall man tried to swallow his annoyance. He knew it was important for Whumpee to feel safe and relaxed right now, but it wasn’t in his nature to be so… understanding. He was the impatient type, and the silent act was his least favorite form of passive aggression. 

“Hellooooooo.”

Whumpee shot a poisonous look up to Whumper, grimacing.

Whumper raked his nails across Whumpee’s neck, dragging them into the delicate flesh. It wasn't enough to draw blood, but enough to force a sharp gasp as Whumpee recoiled, scrambling backward. 

Fuck! Goddamn it!!!! He lost his fucking temper again. He didn't mean to. Why does this keep happening?!

“Sorry. Oh, fuck. I shouldn’t-- shit, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you really act like you’re fucking sorry.” Whumpee spat sarcastically. His good arm clutched the fresh scratches below his ear. It hurt, but the pain was nowhere in the same league as his violently pulsating arm.

A tear rolled down Whumpee’s nose, landing with a sting on his broken wrist. He glanced down at the black-and-blue marks. Perfect handprints were seared into the skin there, an echo of Whumper’s unforgiving grip. He'd never forget the sickening crack when Whumper snapped it—sharp and hollow, like stepping on a brittle branch in the woods.

“Well, I uh, couldn’t find any gauze at the Penny Mart. But I got this bandana I can use to wrap around it though. I’ll make a sling thinggy or whatever.” Whumper hesitated for a moment before pulling a crumpled bandana from his jacket pocket.

“Aaannnnd… this is the best part.” He presented the captive with the red apple again. “I got this for you.”

“Woah.” 

“Right? Isn’t it crazy shiny?”

“Yeah.” Whumpee ran his fingers over the apple’s immaculate, shining flesh. “It really is.”

He hated how fascinated he was with a simple piece of fruit. Then again, how long had it been since Whumpee had eaten something that was actually grown from the earth? 

Hanging from its stem pinched between Whumper’s fingers, it rotated in the air slightly, and it was so red it practically glowed, shining like a Christmas ornament. For a moment, both men were strangely enamored with the perfection of the apple.

Just as Whumpee outstretched his hand to accept the small gift, the fruit fell to the floor, bouncing against the concrete with a dull thud.

“Goddamn it Whumpee.” Whumper muttered, voice low and frustrated. “I was tryna do somethin’ nice.”

“It’s okay.” Whumpee said numbly, retrieving the bisected chunks from the ground. The juices from inside the apple glistened under the light. 

“Huh. Almost expected it to be red on the inside, too.” Whumper anchored his head on Whumpee’s boney shoulder. He was pleased when Whumpee didn’t pull away, allowing him to rest his ear against his collarbone.

“So," Whumper said coolly, "do you still want it?”

“...yeah…”

“Mm, yeah, I’d eat it too.” Whumper growled into Whumpee’s ear. “Even smashed to pieces and ripped inside out.” 

Whumpee shifted on his feet, uncomfortably shrugging Whumper’s face off his shoulder. The man took a step back, eyes flickering over to Whumpee, his intense gaze tracing his body up and down, savoring the sight.

“Don’t do that.” Whumpee protectively shielded his broken wrist.

“Don’t do what?” Whumper laughed with a crooked smile, his voice teasing. “I was just sayin'. The inside of the apple is just as pretty as the outside. Maybe even more pretty. And ya know...” 

Whumpee didn’t know what to do when Whumper stepped into him, putting his mouth over the red scratch marks from earlier.

“I bet you’re like that too.” Whumper purred as he lapped at the skin. 

His tongue swirled over the scratches and glided up Whumpee’s neck until he met the fleshy lobe of his ear.

“It’ll be a nice day when I can finally rip you apart too. But I'll take good care of you 'til then.”

((more whump drabbles))

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Orbiting: pt.4°

: pt.1° | pt.2° - pt.2,5° | pt.3°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [3.9k smut, angst. There's swearing; bitch-calling (non-sexual); this is purely fiction, please practice safe sex!; tons of dialogues. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, but tbh, I kinda struggled to steer the plot.

Also! Happy Hobi Day! Please give Be My Mistake some love, too! (if u want)

-

"Isn't that your girl, cozying up to Park?"

The first thing Jungkook sees is you—back on the rink, just where you belong. He's never seen someone as graceful as you glide. You always look beautiful like this, he thinks. The apples of your cheeks are rounded and rosy from the cold, and the corners of your eyes wrinkle as you laugh.

You always reverted to the nine-year-old you when you were left free to skate—so carefree and unafraid. There were moments like now when he could watch you move smoothly on the ice and soar in the air forever. Days like today are what he will always be thankful for, and he hopes you get to have forever. No longer does he want to see you put yourself through so much pain and endure it for the sake of being the best in your sport. While Jungkook knows all too well that you need to put in the hard work to get a step forward toward your dream of being professionals in your own field, he also knew when too much was too much. In all those days where you suffered, Jungkook did, too. So, he vowed to never forget that there's a version of you who knew how to revel and not overthink every move she made on the ice. And it is his duty to always remind you of her.

Your squeal broke him out of his trance. And Jungkook would have felt the strain in his muscle when he whipped his head, turning to look through the glass, past the bleachers, if the sight hadn't irked him. Jealousy stirred as he spots Jimin's arms on your waist and the other outstretched to hold yours. He knows it's nothing malicious. You've been practicing that stance with him for years when you were kids, thanks to his mom. But something about seeing Jimin with you and the fact that you've defended the guy when Jungkook blamed him for your sprained leg AND even managed to gush about how graceful he skates left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Plus, not to be bitter and petty, but Jungkook thinks he skates well—better even. And yet you've never complimented him.

"Not my girl," Jungkook murmurs under his breath. "And it's a routine. Not exactly cozying up." He scoffs and takes his stick from Yugyeom a little too aggressively, causing his friend-slash-teammate to chuckle.

"You seem to know a lot about routines," Jackson cuts in. "But then again, why wouldn’t you, Jungkook?" The lilt in the older man's voice as he said Jungkook's name wasn't unnoticed, but Jungkook didn't have enough patience and attention to spare to even humor the guy. He also knew whatever Jackson had to say would be anything but a friendly banter.

Jungkook only acknowledges the man with a side-eye and raised brow as he tapes his hockey stick.

Unfortunately, Jackson refuses to shut his mouth; the man is clearly on a mission to get a reaction from Jungkook.

The rest of the hockey team starts to come out of the locker rooms, clumping to the bleachers. With the gathering crowd, Jackson raises his voice, demanding attention and an audience. "You know, there's this move figure skaters do where they spin and spin and spin, circling around their partner." With his head tilted and standing in front of Jungkook, he gives him a haughty glare.

And still, Jungkook’s attention remains on you. You’re only just occupying your side of the rink—the opposite side where his team is gathered at. Whatever you hear on your end should be incoherent. You don't need to hear the bullshit coming out of his teammate's mouth, he thinks.

"What was it she preferred to call it again?" Jackson pretends to wait for Jungkook to answer. Yugyeom, on the other hand, looked apologetic. What started out as playful teasing turned into a way for Jackson to provoke their team captain, and everyone knew how Jackson loved to rile Jungkook. While everyone thought it was because the older man lost the title to someone younger, that was only partly the reason.

"Ah, right," Jackson walks closer to Jungkook. He claps Jungkook's shoulder before gripping tightly into it. "Orbiting,” Jackson grins. He’s taunting, hooking Jungkook, demanding his full attention. “Y/N does it well, but you clearly do it the best,” he mocks. “It’s comical watching you run in circles around the bitch for years.” His sly smile turns to pointed chuckles as he feels Jungkook tense under his grip.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Closing in on Jungkook's ear, Jackson whispers, "Don't worry, I'm pretty sure she does it intentionally, especially to guys she dances with. I bet Park's gonna be her new boy toy now, huh?"

Jungkook was never a violent man. Even on the ice, in a game, he never started brawls. The one time he got tangled in a fight, he couldn’t stand the disappointed glare you gave him. It hurt more than the 13 stitches on his head and scarier than his mom’s scolding.

And yet, Jungkook throws the first punch straight to Jackson’s jaw.

Jungkook can take a joke and can easily shake off empty trash talk and name-calling from his team. In fact, he lets them make jokes about him about his blatant simping for you because it’s true, and anything untrue, he doesn’t see the point in entertaining it. But he draws the line when the jabs are at the expense of the people he loves.

In a matter of seconds, Jackson returns the punch, and a full brawl breaks out.

On the opposite end, you and Jimin match your stride as a pair—being aware of each other’s movement and syncing your limbs to move as one; oblivious to the growing chaos.

You’re in the middle of a Lutz when the commotion steals your focus. You wobble on your landing and Jimin’s quick to hold you from falling. You turn towards the racket and see a mass of bulky men shouting.

It’s Jungkook’s team.

You skate closer to the chaos, and it’s not until you see a pressed back on the glass, the number 97 jersey bold and taut on their back, that you speed skate. Behind you, Jimin calls your name and follows.

You see Yugyeom restrain Jackson, and the other guys are holding back Jungkook. A flurry of curse words flies out of Jackson’s mouth. Entering the box, your eyes are drawn to Jungkook. You can already see his busted lip and sore knuckles. You call his name, and he looks up, jaws locked and tense. It takes a moment for his clenched knuckles to relax. He stands up and shrugs off the arms holding him.

Yet again, Jackson cuts in, “You guys are quite a pair, huh?” he laughs, humorless.

“Man, shut the fuck up,” Yugyeom struggles but eventually manages to drag Jackson away from the group. Sensing that Jungkook won't follow and lunge at Jackson, the rest of the guys disperse. All that’s left gathered on the bleachers is you and Jungkook.

And Jimin. 

Your new partner’s existence annoys Jungkook. Your doe-eyed friend wonders if Jimin knows he doesn’t have to stand so close beside you. He watches with eagle eyes as Jimin hands out your skate guards. You teeter sideways as you clasp the rubber on your skates, and Jungkook hates the sight in front of him—you’re holding on to Jimin for support, and his arm is on your waist to keep you steady.

Fueled by jealousy and adrenaline, Jungkook walks towards you just in time to catch your arm away from Jimin’s body as you switch to putting on the other rubber guard on your skates.

You feel smushed as you stand sandwiched between two guys. Feeling claustrophobic, you push Jungkook by his chest to look at his injuries. “Your lips are bleeding,” your tone colder than ice, a contrast to your warm hands inspecting the blooming bruises on his face. “It’s nothing,” Jungkook murmurs, his head turning sideways, away from you.

You tsk at his stubbornness and press your thumb on his split lip, earning a pained hiss. “We have to clean this so it doesn’t scar.” Before Jungkook can protest and put on his macho bravado, you turn to Jimin. “Can we take a rain check on lunch?” your voice barely above a whisper. But Jungkook’s not only stubborn, he’s nosey, too—masking how hard he strains to listen to your conversation with an unbothered face.

There's an exchange of whispers, then Jimin looks at him, then back at you. He smiles and nods at you. “I'll see you later, then.” His hands connect with your arm for a comforting squeeze before leaving.

Jungkook rolls his eyes.

-

“Where are we going?” Jungkook follows you as you drag him by his arm along the corridors. “The clinic’s closed on weekends,” he points out, but the only response he gets is a huff.

You’re a bit eerily quiet. Calm, even. He fears what follows, so he thinks of a way to pacify you.

“Well. Lucky for you, Jeon, I have the keys.” You dangle the set of keys on your fingers. “Your mom gave them to me before she left.”

You unlock the clinic and usher Jungkook in the compact space. “I seem to always end up hurt when I practice and it’s not like your mom has her eyes on me all the time, so she lends me the key to the clinic.” You push Jungkook to the foamed table. “Sit.”

Jungkook follows suit, still mum, still thinking. He knows he's on wafer-thin ice with you, but even so, he can't help but love the attention you’re giving him and the fact that you’re away from Jimin.

The image of you and Park on the rink is still vivid in his memory, stirring the tinge of jealousy that resides inside him. So, as you rummage through the cabinets, Jungkook pulls you close to him. “C’mere,” he whispers.

“Hold on, I have to find something for your lip.” Your body extends in the small space. Your arms are outstretched while you rummage through the cabinet for bandages and antiseptic cream, and your lower half is awkwardly bent, thighs wedged between Jungkook’s, and his hands support your hips. 

“Forget the cream. I know a better way to have this healed quickly.” His arms engulf your waist and pull you completely to him. You turn to tell him off, but before words can leave your mouth, Jungkook slots his lips to yours.

Before things could escalate, you begrudgingly pull away. “Nuh-uh. You think you’re so sly, huh?” You pinch his chin. “I still need to interrogate you on what exactly happened with Jackson back there.”

Jungkook deflates. “You know Jackson. He was spouting nonsense, and I guess he just got on my nerves.”

Curiosity peaked, you push Jungkook to tell you more. “What nonsense?” Your willful streak shows in your furrowed eyebrows. On most days, he loves it, but on a day like today, he wishes you knew when to get the hint and just drop it.

Jungkook groans. “I’m just really having one of those days, Y/N.” Arms still wrapped around your waist, he leans forward to rest his head on your chest. Instinctively, you run your fingers through his hair, fingers massaging his scalp. Your best friend moans, and for the first time since you pulled him away from the bleachers, you let out a smile.

“Make me feel better,” he breathes. His face now burrowing into your breasts, and his fluffy hair tickles you.

“Gguk,” you giggle. “We’re in the clinic, and I'm pretty sure there are people nearby.” You softly pull at his hair to remove his head between your tits, but he just moans.

Oh.

“Don’t care, baby. Just focus on me,” he proposes with a kiss on your neck and his hands make soothing work on your back. When the only response he gets from you is a satisfied hum, he sits up further on the table. He lowers his hand, tapping your ass before he pulls you by the backs of your knees so you straddle his thighs on the table.

“Fuck, I love it when you wear skirts.” Jungkook’s hand disappears inside your clothes, palms once again making contact with your ass before he claws at your tights. “This I hate, though. Fuck.” he grumbles at the sheer garment.

“Oh, that's a shame," you pout. "I actually thought you'd love it. It’s crotchless," the last sentence coming out in a whisper. Cue another curse from his mouth. You momentarily pull away to get off the table and shed your safety shorts. “Need those off, Jeon," you command with a shoot of your brow towards his pants. “Wanna feel you. Don’t you want to feel me?”

You're a fucking tease, and Jungkook loves it.

You watch him struggle to unlatch his belt clasp—he’s roughly pulling at his padded pants and while you want to help, you decide to enjoy the sight before you as his thick thighs come into view. You climb back on top of Jungkook, his eyes following your movement until you plop your ass to his growing bulge.

Jungkook flips the front of your skirt and goes breathless at the sight. “You’re a fucking minx, you know that?”

“Only for you.” Hands gripping his shoulders as an anchor, you drag your wet pussy to his bulge, and you both moan. “Wore this for you," you pant. "I knew you were practicing today and thought you'd need a cooldown after." You’re full-on humping him, drawing pleasured gasps from the man below you.

“Well, fuck me,” Jungkook throws his head back, eyes up on the ceiling and he thanks his lucky stars for you. You pull at his tight underwear, and his hard cock springs free—swollen red and leaking. Your mouth waters at the sight, and your pussy clenches at nothing.

“Please, Jungkook,” you plead. You’re beyond turned on. Your arousal mixes with Jungkook’s precum, and you can smell the sex permeating the air. It drives you feral. You spit at his cock before stroking it.

Jungkook revels in your neediness. This is what he wants—for you to need him, want him. And someday, he hopes it goes beyond sex. His arms pull your waist closer as you sink down on his cock in one drop.

“Shit, Y/N, you okay, baby?”

You respond with a breathy yes as you start bouncing on his dick. Your focus is directed on chasing your high and, at the same time, making sure Jungkook feels the same intensity of desire and pleasure you feel. With a roll of your hips, you clench around his shaft. He claws at your arched back as he sucks your tits with playful nips. Each sting heightens your arousal.

You play around with the angle of your hips and attune to Jungkook's reaction. But you struggle and near complete submission with each bite to your breast, every kiss to your lips, and slide to your folds. Once again, you’re rendered pliant and submissive on top of Jungkook.

Feeling you slow down, Jungkook taps your burning thighs. “On your back, baby,” he rasps. You shake your head but move to get on all fours—you raise your hips, shuffling to snuggle his cock in your ass and stretch your back. And to top it off, you clasp your hands on your back, giving him something to hold as he pounds into you.

Behind you, Jungkook is gobsmacked. What are you doing to him?

Presenting yourself for his use, Jungkook doesn't hesitate to hold your behaved hands with one grip, and his other hand guides his dick to smear your slick from your folds to your ass. He preens at the noises you make.

"Please," you drool. "Please what? Tell me what you want, baby," his voice matches the slow and soft movement of his tip on your folds.

With one last teasing push of his tip to your puffy clit, he completely bottoms out and holds.

“How’s that for feeling me, baby?” His lips ghost the shell of your ear, and it tickles you just right. You clench around him and reclaim one of your restrained hands between your now folded bodies to draw circles on your clit. You hear Jungkook chuckle before leaving a quick peck on your cheek. As he straightens up to pull out his dick, he reaches to swat your naughty hand on your clit and replaces it with his.

And it feels better.

His fingers play with your nub and continue to plunge in and out of you. The sound that echoes around the tiny room is pure filth—guttural groans and whiny moans harmonize.

“Baby, cum for me,” Jungkook hastens his rhythmic thrusting, and with a soft flick to your clit, you come undone. His movements quicken and cum-soaked hands travel upwards to your body to fondle your tits like it's his personal stress ball.

“Shit Jungkook. Feels good," you blabber. You love how you can feel his weight on top of you; the pressure makes his pounding harder and deeper and it overrides your oversensitivity. The pleasure is too good, too strong. With a bite to your shoulder to muffle himself, you cum with him.

-

“Don’t forget your shorts. Can’t have you skating with Park wearing just that."

"Right," you giggle and put on your shorts. "Can't be traumatizing my partner this soon."

"Good girl." Jungkook pats your ass.

"Hey," your hands pull Jungkook before he can leave. "What really happened back there?"

"Y/N, I told you it was nothing."

"Nothing? Jungkook, had the fight been longer, you could've been dismissed from the upcoming game."

"Well, we're fine. Plus, Jackson's not going to do anything or tell the coach. It's both our asses on the line."

"That doesn't mean you can go around throwing punches now. What if—"

Throwing his head back, Jungkook lets out a bitter laugh, cutting you off. As he returns to face you, he sees the focused glare on your eyes—lids sharp and brows knitted. You're annoyed.

But so is he.

“You really wanna know? Fine. Jackson called me out. He said it was fucking comical how I wait around you like a lovesick puppy. It's actually a fucking running joke in our team that when you call, I come running." Words and feelings overflowed out of Jungkook's mouth, but he was not close to being done. "And as much as I hate to admit it, it’s actually true, and someone like him throwing that to my face just struck a nerve. He deserved the punch for running his mouth and calling you a bitch, too. Y/N, if you've heard the names he's called you, comments he made—"

"I don't care about that, Jungkook," you interrupt. One moment, you're in bliss, and now you've been hit with an accusation. "I don't care if he calls me a bitch or paints me however he wants. It's you I care about. I worry that one day, he manages to push you to your breaking point, and you do something that kicks you off the team." You feel like a bubble filled with emotions burst inside you, leaving you conflicted with what you feel. You're angry at Jackson, but also, if you think Jungkook is saying what he is saying, then half of you blooms in hope, but the other wilts at the revelation that he said it like he resents what he's feeling.

“So, do you resent me? For, I don't know, calling you? Wanting to be with you? Being friends with you?" The last question left your lips in a murmur. You've ranked low in competitions before, but you've never looked as defeated as you do now. To make it worse, you stand pathetic in front of Jungkook.

“I’m not saying that," Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose. "I’ve been in love with you, Y/N,” he can’t believe he’s saying it out loud.

Jungkook imagined his confession to be far from this wreckage. This moment was the polar opposite of how he wanted it to go, but the words flurry out of his mouth before he could think of them. “I love you, but you’re always too hung up on every new guy that comes along to even see me…” he swallows the sob rising in his throat. “Sometimes I wonder if you keep me as a placeholder until a new guy comes.”

“A placeholder?” You're horrified. Jungkook's breaking your heart, and the thought that you apparently broke his shatters the pieces further.

“Aren’t I? When Jackson joined our team, all he had to do was wink and throw a cheesy line at you, and you’re all about him. And now Jimin—”

“Jimin?” Now, you're confused.

“Yes, Jimin. All he had to do was skate with you, and suddenly, I’m on the backburner.”

“Jungkook, where is this coming from? You’re making me out as someone who’s never been a friend to you.”

“Oh, you’ve been a friend, alright. But you can’t deny you’ve strung me up all along. Sometimes I wonder if you knew how I feel and you—”

“Stop," you plead. "Oh god, Jungkook, stop talking, please.” The tears you were holding back now freefall to your cheeks. “All this time, this is how you felt. You have been resenting me—"

"That's not what I'm saying! Do you not understand me?" Jungkook grows frustrated.

“No, I understand, Jungkook. Perfectly. I understand I’ve been selfish, teetering between wanting to keep you close to me and keeping you at a distance to protect myself." You don't want to invalidate his feelings, but he also needs to know where you're at. Thousands of thoughts are drowning you, and you're nowhere close to navigating your feelings; you're still conflicted and lost. But most of all, afraid. Will you lose Jungkook now? It frightens you that one wrong decision could crash your friendship beyond fixable. "But Jungkook, I’ve never seen you as someone I can set aside for anyone else because you’ve always been the first person I look for and reach out to. Even when I always thought you were so close yet so far to me, but still I—"

A knock pops the bubble you’re in. Rushing to wipe your cheeks dry, the door swings open to a clueless and shocked Jimin, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Shit, sorry," Jimin fidgets between wanting to close the door and leave but decides he'd rather not get in trouble, so with eyes on the floor, he calls for you.

"Coach is going ballistic looking for you, Y/N. And him, too. I mean, their coach is looking for him. He heard of the fight.”

More worry rushes to you. You try hard to stay afloat and level-headed, but you're sinking and sinking. “Right,” you clear your throat. “We were just cleaning up. We’re done here anyway.”

Once again, you feel claustrophobic. You need to leave. You don't trust yourself to make any decision in the state you're in. The last time you made a decision from what you were feeling, you made a selfish proposal to Jungkook. And look where that's gotten you now. You can't think, so you rush to leave the room, folding your arms before Jungkook can grab your wrist.

“Wait, Y/N—”

You linger briefly at the door, just enough so he can catch the defeated words that you speak, “We’re done, Jungkook.”

-

>> Page 5

[lenaellsi]

I'm wondering how much of the fandom reaction of "Aziraphale doesn't ACTUALLY want Crowley to be an angel, he just wants to keep him safe/happy!" is because we spent four years between seasons assuming that Aziraphale had already accepted that Heaven and Hell aren't all that different, and that demons and angels aren't inherently good or bad. And it's difficult to let go of that idea in the same way that it's difficult to let go of the idea that they talked their shit out That Night At Crowley's Flat and have been happy ever since. But to actually understand Aziraphale's choice without hiding it behind coffee or lies or secret plans or body swaps or magic tricks or purely romantic intentions, we have to to understand that Aziraphale is still working under an incorrect framework of the world as divided into Cosmic Good and Cosmic Evil.

Because the thing is. Aziraphale does not like that Crowley is a demon. He just doesn't. We can talk about his reasons, but I really don't think that it's a disputable fact at this point. Aziraphale CONSTANTLY talks down to Crowley about the differences between them, and disparages demons in general and Crowley in particular over and over again. I mean, he's obviously just spewing the party line at this point, but he even describes the ultimate triumph of Heaven over Hell as "rather lovely." To Crowley. Where does he think Crowley fits, in that scenario? Is he thinking about it? (He is, surely, given how distressed he is over the danger Crowley is in due to the Arrangement?)

Crowley, to be fair, often says similar things about himself, and hates when Aziraphale calls him things like 'nice.' But as I've mentioned in another post, I think 2.03 makes it all but canon that a lot of that is self-preservation. Hell can't know that he's running around saving children and rescuing people from suicide and poverty, or he'll get dragged down there for decades. Crowley doesn't really think of himself as evil--he's visibly upset during their argument when Aziraphale hits him with "you're the bad guys!" because he thinks Aziraphale knows him better than that.

But instead, Aziraphale makes knee-jerk assumptions about Crowley and his intentions over and over again, including that he's behind the Reign of Terror in Paris and, about two minutes before realizing he's in love with him, that he's working with Nazis. Crowley seems annoyed and hurt both times, and denies it. There's no demonic posturing from him then.

Which makes the Job ep really interesting, right? Because Crowley actively lies and says that he is doing the properly demonic thing, but Aziraphale doesn't buy it. And why doesn't he buy it?

"I know the angel you were."

To Aziraphale, Crowley's kindness stems from the traces of that angel he knew. He thinks Crowley does good in spite of his nature, and not because of who he is as a person, life experiences as a demon very much included. This is because to Aziraphale, Heaven is Good, and all goodness must stem from it.

I've seen people get accused, when making this point, of attacking Aziraphale, or saying that he doesn't love Crowley, which is a ridiculous takeaway from S2. I've never seen a person more obviously in love, or a person more obviously trying to do good in the world. But so much of Aziraphale is tied up in his ability to believe multiple contradictory things at once. (See: the 80 years between "maybe there is something to be said for shades of gray" and "Heaven is the side of truth, of light, of good.") That doesn't make him stupid or ill-intentioned (in fact, he wouldn't need to do the kind of mental gymnastics we see from him if he wasn't clever enough to see through at least some of the bullshit) but it does mean that he's fully capable of loving Crowley while at the same time believing that demons are 'the bad guys.' Solution? Make Crowley an angel. Fix him, fix the bad apples in Heaven, be happy together, eliminate human suffering. Vavoom. Sorted.

Idk man. I'm constantly seeing takes that just...completely discount that Aziraphale really, genuinely, has misunderstood Crowley and the way the world works in his choice to return to Heaven. We can't blame it all on miscommunication. The most honest conversation in the world wouldn't fix this. Aziraphale has to go up there, without Crowley, and learn for the last time that Heaven is not Good, and will never be Good, because there is no Good. Good doesn't come from Heaven, or God, or even Crowley (and I see y'all, putting Crowley on a pedestal, saying Aziraphale wants to remake Heaven in his image--stop it.) Good comes from making the choice, in a very complicated world, to help as best you can, and it comes from love. And that's what Aziraphale will learn in season 3.

[puckleberryfinnie]

What Is This Feeling? (pt. 2)

summary: you're the one thing he can't have, but he'll do anything to get you anyway, fem!reader x emperor geta

part one

notes: I wanted to thank each and every one of you for the support you showed on my first attempt at writing this man, it literally means the world to me! here's the second part to that as a little thank you <3 as always, my requests are open, I'd be so honored if any of you sent your ideas my way!

It wasn't that you were truly bored in Rome- there were an infinite amount of things to do. You, however, couldn't entirely enjoy them with the amount of security that seemed to follow your every step. You could go out to the market, sure, but four guards were sure to come with, acting as your shadow with every move you made.

So, much of your time was spent roaming the halls of their residency, a place so giant you never got bored of it as the days went on. There you were considered safe, with no need to be watched every moment.

Much of this time was spent reflecting on all that had happened during your short time so far in Rome. More specifically, someone that had caused things to happen.

Geta was an interesting man, to be sure. It seemed as though he'd made it his duty to personally make you as comfortable as possible while in his empire. This being a duty that usually fell to the hired staff, he wasn't the best at it. Sure, he was perfectly fine at getting you the finest commodities they had to offer- he even made sure your room had been moved to a much more lavish one, though this might've been just because it was closer to his own. But any of the tours he'd offered you resulted in endless amounts of courting attempts on his part.

"These are our fountains- we really should take a swim together, yes?"

"And our apple trees- I'll grab you one right now, princess. You must try one for me."

It's not that you minded. He was quite attractive, you had to admit. There was, of course, the question of his intentions- it would ruin your reputation and that of your home if anything undignified were to happen to you, especially with the way news traveled in a place like this. So you kept that in mind as your friendship grew with him- always keeping a respected distance.

This greatly frustrated Geta. The only barrier he'd expected in the process of getting you was his own people guiding him against it for the sake of his empire, not your own denial.

Any other woman would've accepted the generous offer of his attention and affection. It bothered him deeply that you were different in that regard.

He was never one to back down from a challenge, however. So, when he watched as you walk past his room for what felt like the hundredth time, he followed you down that same hallway, soon catching up to you as he reached your side, placing a gentle hand on your back.

"Darling, it troubles me to see that you're roaming the halls quite so much. There are plenty of places for you to rest instead, places much better suited for your time," he said, leaning against one of the stone walls with a smile. "Might I suggest some leisure time in my quarters?"

"I'm afraid that would be... problematic, Emperor."

He frowned with your direct denial to his proposal. He knew it was true, though. It would be wrong of them to have a secret meeting of any sort in a private room, especially in the manner he was suggesting. In any case, someone of your ranking would want every exhausted detail of the courting process if he truly wanted you to be his.

Well, he did want you in such a way, really. He already knew he'd do anything for you, so what was it to him if you required a more dignified approach to being together? In fact, it might even be amusing if it were for someone like you.

"Well then, might I suggest a dinner? I'm sure my brother would be delighted to act as a chaperone, if that's what you're wishing for."

"That would do nicely, Geta. Thank you."

He smiled devilishly at your use of his name as he brought your hand to his lips with a slow kiss. "Then it's settled. Tonight."

The staff that had been tasked with taking care of you during your stay seemed extra excited about getting you ready for that night's event. Perhaps it was the silk cloth that had been bought for you by Geta himself. Or, if one was thinking more deeply, it was likely the fact that this was a clear sign of courting in their books. They now weren't serving just any other guest, they were serving his potential match. A future empress for their land.

The dining hall that they were eating in reflected the same notion. Everything was somehow even more lavish than it had been before, with new gold plates for every dish, and fancy silverware you'd yet to see during your stay.

And the dishes themselves were even more delicious than they had been- and they seemed more personalized for you.

"Those apples were the ones I mentioned during our tour, princess. And those tarts, I heard they're quite popular in your empire is that right? One of cooks made them upon my request." He'd immediately started rambling when you'd stepped inside the room, unlike his normal, more relaxed way of speaking with you. He paused, however, when he noticed your clothing, a smile spreading on his face. "I knew that fabric would look ravishing on you, darling. I have amazing taste," he said, leaning back in his chair, continuing to take you in as his eyes carefully analyzed every detail of your look.

"Yes, and I'd like to thank you for sending it to me. That was quite kind of you," you smiled, bowing your head slightly before you headed to an empty chair beside Geta. Sure, there were many other empty chairs surrounding the large table, but considering the man had invited you, it seemed only proper to be seated somewhat closer to him. At least that's what you told yourself.

"Don't mention it. Oh, and you already have met my brother, yes? I would like it if you two became better acquainted at some point, and what better time than now?" He gestured to his brother lazily, busy pouring a glass of wine for you with his other hand.

Caracalla, who was sitting opposite to you both, looks slightly confused about you both. His eyes were darting between you both as though he was trying to figure something out. He even looked to his monkey for some sort of guidance.

You, being as polite as possible, sent a small wave his way, bowing your head as usual.

After a while it seemed as though something had clicked for Caracalla, likely figuring that his brother's intentions for you might be more sincere, as bizarre as that would be for Geta. "Yes, I'm sure we'll be very well acquainted. It'll be a pleasure, in any case."

Geta laughed at his brother's remark, knowing he'd figured out what he intended for you and his empire. A long term relationship would be new for someone like him, but he wanted you for as long as he could have you.

"It seems as though the connection between our lands is going well, my lady," he said, taking a sip of his wine before looking over to his brother. "I believe that's just the thing that needs celebration. Don't you, brother?"

Caracalla was far to busy with his monkey, and only noticed he was being addressed after a moment of being stared at by both of his companions in the room. "Ah, yes. I love a party!"

He smiled at his brother's careless response, turning back to you. "Well then, might I suggest some gladiator games held in your empire's honor? It truly seems necessary."

He would show you off to the entire world if he could, but for now a whole empire would do.

definitely was planning on releasing this sooner, hope some of you can still enjoy this <333 again, I just wanted to say just how much it means to me that i got so much support on the first part of this- it truly amazes me and it's definitely something I think about all the time so thank you for doing that for me everyone!! as the abrupt ending suggests, I definitely plan on writing more, let me know if you want to be tagged in that!! (also anon pookie who encouraged me to start writing for him I love you to pieces too fkvljwbefj)

taglist (love you muah muah!):

@princesssunderworld

love ya!!