#but i also admit i need help and i need something to guide me and actually teach me

[fortunately-bi]

I know I don't have many artist friends or followers on here but if anyone knows of any online courses or free classes or anything (honestly even if they're paid, as long as it's not like college stuff that requires my gpa or anything) for art, like figure drawing and anatomy and so on id really appreciate some help in my search

[tender-rosiey]

“A BIT GENTLER, PLEASE?”

— gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna feeling their baby kick (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

satoru was always all over you, one clingy and affectionate husband.

truthfully, while you would like to say that he is annoying and is making you regret ever getting pregnant, you have to admit that he makes being pregnant a lot easier to endure. his light-hearted way of speaking puts you at easy somehow.

he also made it very obvious that he is excited for the baby, maybe even more than you’re. one of the many ways he shows his enthusiasm is through buying baby clothes and baby equipment and I mean a shit ton of them.

that’s why you’re not surprised when he enters the house with yet another batch of baby clothes, “wifey, I am home!”

you get up and waddle your way to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “what did you get this time?”

“I thought you would never ask,” he smirks before pulling out each and every one of the outfits he got.

you’re sat on the couch with a cup of your favorite warm drink as you listen to his rambles, “first off, I got this really cute blue dress! call it a dad’s instinct but I think she will have my gorgeous eyes,” he grins.

you nod absentmindedly as he continues, “second, I got this yellow jump suit? overalls? dungarees?” he switches his accent in the end and you roll your eyes. he resumes, “eh, I don’t care, but it’s pretty so who cares?”

he puts the clothes aside before kneeling in front you, hand resting on your stomaxh, “right, baby?” he coos, “daddy’s going to get you all the pretty outfits you want!”

you’re about to drift to sleep while your husband busies himself with the baby, but you’re quickly brought back to consciousness when you feel her kick against your stomach.

your husband’s gasp quickly follows after before he presses his ear to your stomach, “can you do that again for me, pretty?”

his other hand moves to hold your own and he guides your hand to his hair, “somehow, this is making me realize just how close she is to finally join us, right, wifey?”

“right, ‘toru,” you smile softly and he quickly starts peppering your face with kisses, murmuring about how his pretty wife is simply irresistible.

NANAMI KENTO:

whenever someone asks you about kento, you can’t find the words to stress just how much of a sweetheart he is. he was always a caring and attentive man.

yet, somehow it amplified after your pregnancy: he helps you rest as much as he can, cooks for you, and gets you all the snacks you would like.

you also remember the first time you told him that your feet hurt, and he ended up massaging it for you. you cried that day.

in summary, he never left you in need of anything, like right now for example.

“y/n, would you like anything else?”

a dopey smile is plastered on your face as you relax further in the cushions, feet propped up on the pillow your sweetheart of a husband got.

he places your favorite snacks right by your side. you cup his face and press a lingering kiss on his cheek, “no, thank you, kento.”

he nods and takes a seat beside you. he takes your hand into his and starts rubbing your hand, “we should start preparing the baby’s room,” he murmurs softly.

you nod, head resting on his shoulder, “you’re right. we need to welcome our little princess well.”

he chuckles and his hand moves to rest on your stomach, “I assembled the crib already so that’s something to be proud of.”

nanami’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder and you snuggle closer into his chest, giggling, “my strong, independent, and reliable husband,” you sigh happily, “whatever will I do without you?”

he half-heartedly rolls his eyes, “flattery is getting you nowhere.”

“but it does!” you laugh and he lightly tickles you. your hand rests on your stomach, alongside his. you smirk, “what do you think, baby? is mommy right?”

to your absolute delight, the little girl kicks against your womb making you squeal and instantly look at your husband, “kento, did you feel that?!”

“…yeah,” his face is one of awe. she kicks once again and nanami can’t help but press a kiss to your stomach, “looks like she is a strong, healthy baby.”

 “just like her dad,” you chuckle but stop to think about it for a moment before concern over takes your face.

nanami’s gaze quickly snaps to you, “what’s wrong?”

“if she will be as strong as you then god help my uterus.”

GETO SUGURU:

geto gets a little busy at times, but he does do his best to make time for you.

in addition to that, nanako and mimiko love hanging out with you so it kind of puts him at ease, knowing that you’re accompanied by someone.

today, he was doing some of his usual works in the establishment? shrine? eh whatever.

no fiber of his being expected the girls to burst into the room, grins filling their faces, as they urgently call him, “geto-sama! you have to see what just happened!”

with no hesitation, he abandons the followers and quickly follows the girls. he asks them, voice laced with concern, “is y/n okay? did something happen?”

the girls giggle as they finally near your room. mimiko speak up, “she is okay! but something important really did happen!”

somehow, it sends geto more into panic, because just what happened and why is it so important to the point they had to call him?

after a while, they are finally there, and geto wastes no time in sitting by your side, hands and eyes inspecting your body for an injury.

you giggle, “’calm down, suguru,” you take his hand and guide it to your stomach, “can you feel it?”

“feel it? what do you mean—“ he pauses upon the little kick against his palm. he smiles, actually grins, quietly before looking you in the eyes.

you nod with a smile of your own, while he leans down to kiss your stomach then your hand.

he rests his head against your stomach, “how are you, little buddy?”

geto chuckles softly, “better not cause trouble for your pretty mom,” his eyes lock with yours, “I hate to see her in pain or discomfort.”

you roll your eyes before patting your husband’s head, “you’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

“I would rather only charm you, y’know,” he chuckles.

the both of you completely forget about the pair of girls standing at the door way, each snapping a bunch of photos of the moment in front you.

nanako snickers a little before teasing, “that line was a bit cheesy, no?”

he quirks an eyebrow at them and they quickly flee away. with a soft sigh and a gentle chuckle, he goes back to admiring you, hand rubbing circles on your stomach.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

it’s safe to say that sukuna was surprised with the news of your pregnancy, but he came to terms with it quicker than you expected.

he just had to sit with himself a bit and understand that the ‘brat’ in you was his ‘brat’ as well.

he also found himself staring at your stomach longer than he would like. he started to really think about how life will go on from this point onwards.

he is a feared man, the king of curses, with no weaknesses to ever exploit.

that is until you came into his life. he grew fond of you and the rest is history. right now, though, you’re carrying his child.

after a long day, he finally enters your chambers and finds you fast asleep.

he guesses that carrying a child of his own must be more exhausting than that of a normal man. his feet take him to you and his figure towers over your sleeping form.

he watches your expression contort ever so slightly as you stir, perhaps in seek of your comfort.

he sits by your side and his hand traces your every feature, nails slightly grazing you but never hurting you. finally, it reaches your stomach and he frowns lightly.

he sighs, “just what the hell am I going to do with you?”

he feels a light kick against his palm.

his eyes widen at the movement and his hand involuntary presses against your stomach once more, wanting to feel the kick once again. he narrows his eyes, “what? you think that light kick is fit for the kid of the king of curses?”

as if understanding what he said, the baby delivers one rough and tough kick to your abdomen. you wince and whine at the pain, “sukuna, don’t be mean to the baby…”

“I am not trying to, woman,” he grumbles, “that kid is just short-tempered.”

sukuna is sporting quite the frown but it doesn’t stop his hand from massaging your stomach and you hum in content before sassing him, “oh wow, I wonder where did he get that from.”

you squeak as you feel a pinch to your side. you glare at sukuna who glares at you back before replying, “he got it from one stubborn woman who happens to be mine.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[gibberishfangirl]

WIND BREAKER | getting caught

Synopsis ✰ how the boys react to the two of you getting walked in on during the heat of the moment

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ spicy; explicit content, semi-public, slight aggressive behavior, humping, biting, marks, love bites, groping, 18+ / nsfw!

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

you couldn’t help it, it’s hard to hold back with Sakura when you love how much of a blushing mess you can make him. seeing him unfold underneath you triggers something dark inside of you. “you’re so cute when you make that face Sakura.” you cooed in between the kisses you were placing on your boyfriends lips.

“shut up- no i’m not.” your boyfriend barked back at you with a scowl. however, the deep red blush forming on his cheeks says he likes what you have to say. he could never pinpoint why he lets you get away with so much. he doesn’t understand the power you hold over him, why he says yes to your every request, why he would do anything for you, or why he can’t help but blush and tremble over the sweet nothings you whispered to him during these moments.

“don’t say that, i think you’re more than very cute.” you teased the poor boy. the two of you were on your way to get some food before you had dragged him into a dark alley to kiss him, and for some reason he let you. he let you have him against the wall, your soft fingers tugging at his split hair making him weak. he let out a groan as you pulled his hair in order to drag him down to your lips.

“touch me? please?” you pleaded with big round innocent eyes as if you weren’t the one who got the two of you in this position anyways. he nodded desperately giving you permission to guide his hands to your body. you placed his hands on your hips and then down to your ass before tip toeing up to him to plant more kisses on his face. this time around he felt the tip of his ears growing an antagonizing amount of heat on them.

“y/n lets go to my place? yeah?” Sakura asked shyly. he had gotten so easily worked up from kissing he wanted to skip the dinner all together and go straight to his place. you had gotten yourself so worked up to the point where you also wanted to skip dinner. you frantically nodded at his request and he let out a sigh of relief. you were such in a rush you grabbed his hand and started to lead the way out before he pulled you back into him.

“w-wait. i need some time.” he shamefully admitted, his face probably being the reddest you made it all day. you were slightly confused at first until your eyes made its way down and you saw his raging boner making it’s appearance.

“want me to make it go away?” you offered reaching down to his belt. you had felt guilty at this point for making him get so hard in public and it won’t be awhile until he gets some relief. Sakura bit his lip thinking about whether or not he should take up your offer. he ended up shaking his head no, he didn’t want to risk anyone seeing you. instead you opted out to just standing in front of him in case anyone walks by so they won’t have to see his package trying to break free from his jeans. you thought that would be the end of it until you felt Sakura’s hands grab your hips. “can i?” he asked gently before you responded with a nod, soon after he was pushing your ass against his crotch as he let out a small groan. you felt your face heat up as he started to shamelessly rut himself against you. he had his face buried against the nape of your neck.

“OH HEY GUYS!” a voice yelled. it caused the two of you to sharply look up at the direction of the voice. you squinted before recognizing the person running up to you two was Nirei. “what are you guys doing here?” he asked innocently confused. Sakura was trying to regain his composure meanwhile you still felt his hard on pressing against your ass.

“it was too sunny, we got hot while walking so we decided to get some shade.” you responded with smooth lie and smile which Nirei completely believed. “ah makes sense, where are you guys going?? i’ll join you!” he smiled. you were unsure of how to respond just smiling at your very innocent and naive friend. he would third wheel on your dates every once in a while which you didn’t mind.

“don’t worry about it, go away.” Sakura interrupted causing Nirei to glare at him. you elbowed your boyfriend before scolding him, “don’t be rude!” the conversation ended with all three of you agreeing to go get dinner. the entire walk there Sakura stayed closely behind you while you held his hand and led the way.

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

“Ume… what if someone comes?” you shyly asked your boyfriend as he was leaving a trail of kisses from your neck to the corner of the mouth. you pulled away slightly in order to meet his gaze.

he couldn’t help but smile at your cute shyness, “no one will come, it’s fine.” before you could protest more, he pushed you down onto the ground chuckling at the tiny squeak you let out. you caved in as he captured your lips with his own. you felt his long fingers grazing your sides and hips as he deepened the kiss.

one of your favorite things to do with your loving boyfriend was to help him with his gardening. the term “help” can be used loosely as the two of you always got carried away during the gardening seasons. it’s gotten to the point where almost everyone knows better than to interrupt the two of you while “gardening”. Ume has made it clear over time, again and again, that he does not like getting interrupted while he’s spending time with his cute girlfriend.

the two of you had gotten carried away in your kissing as Ume had already begun abusing your lips. he loved to bite, lick, suck, and harshly nip your plump lips since he adored seeing how red/purple they got after he was done. you felt yourself instinctively arching your back upwards to him to gain some type of friction between you two. Ume was placed perfectly in between your legs as he borderline starts rutting himself against you. before you knew it, you were letting out small moans and whimpers begging for more.

“can i? please.” Ume had been fiddling with the hem of your shirt while marking your neck and collarbone with harsh bites and bruises. he waited until you frantically nodded before slipping his cold hands underneath the fabric of your top. he instantly wrapped his large hands around your breasts cupping each one. they fit perfectly in his hands, he’s fully convinced your body is made for him. no one could tell him otherwise and fortunately he didn’t want to hear it either.

Ume had almost gotten so caught up in the moment he could’ve missed the sound of the rooftop door opening. he instantly sat up catching you off guard. you let out a small whine from losing his touch. before you can even mutter a word out, Ume had reached out for a sweater he had and thrown it over your body.

“UME!” a group of voices screamed while another familiar yelled out “wait! don’t-“

you froze in place, grateful for your boyfriends huge build as he covered most of your presence behind him. you quickly recovered once you realized the situation and you instantly threw on the sweater Ume had thrown at you before. you finally peeked at the commotion and saw Hiragi with a group of young boys at the door. you hoped no one saw the marks on your body, based on the way they were looking at you, they did.

“you idiots! I told you not to come in!” Hiragi scolded the group of boys. Ume had been completely silent but his energy was gut wrenching as you could pinpoint the pure annoyance he felt.

“jeez, what are you?! some kind of animal?!” one of the boys yelled referring to the marks Ume left on you. your face felt an entire new level of warmth. you looked to Ume who only smiled in response. a smile that hid many emotions, one that definitely hid the current anger he felt. truth be told, he wasn’t all that mad at being caught, he was more angry because they were still there and didn’t leave.

“is this an emergency?” Ume finally asked. there were only crickets in response. once no one responded Ume felt himself get more internally angry because he had to stop his moment with you for no reason. Ume’s smile finally dropped as he glared at the group of boys. the glare alone sent all of them running down the door, slamming it closed behind them. Ume let out a groan after they left and plopped to the ground as you could only giggle in response to his frustration.

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

“y/n- wait- no- we shouldn’t do this.” Nirei pleaded with you. his eyes anxiously moving between you and the door. his hands held a stern hold on your hips as he prevented you from moving. the two of you were in an empty classroom together and had been previously making out. you were currently straddling him as he was sitting on a chair near a desk. the two of you had been so busy lately you haven’t had a chance to be alone… until now.

“it’ll be fine, it’s not like we’ll be the first couple to do something like this. besides there’s still 40 minutes until class, no one comes this early” you argued as you wrapped your hands around his neck slightly playing with the back of his hair.

Nirei bit his bottom lip not removing his eyes off the door, obviously contemplating his decision of whether or not to continue. it’s true, unfortunately you two haven’t had much alone time. to give this up would be insane of him to do considering what a missed opportunity it would be.

“please ni’, for me.” you pleaded interrupting his thoughts. you began to grind your hips against his crotch causing him to let out a small groan. he could never say no, not to you. especially not when you looked so pretty with your flushed cheeks looking up at him with those eyes.

he was gripping your hips so tightly it hurt. it hurt in a way that made you feel so good. with how hard he holding you, he could leave bruises. he wasn’t intentionally hurting you, he would never. in fact, he wasn’t even aware of how strong his grip was. his mind was hazed with thoughts of you flooding them, he’s trying to regain his control. the control he didn’t even have over himself, it was something only you held. he was painfully hard as his cock was starting to ache. eventually Nirei started to guide your hips onto him while trying to fight back any groan from leaving.

you crashed your lips against his in order to silence your own whimpers. you were wearing a short skirt and the fabric of his jean pants felt so good pressed against you. you pressed yourself down harder in order to gain any more friction. you needed him like you never needed him before, it had been too long. as embarrassing as it was for Nirei to admit it, he felt himself getting close, you were making him feel so so good. groans were spewing from his pretty lips before he knew it, he buried his face on the crook of your neck. he couldn’t hold it together as he felt himself losing composure. the both of you could feel yourself getting wet against him.

“fuck~ you’re so wet.” he groaned as his hands lowered themselves onto your ass pushing you closer to him making you whimper once more.

you quickly became a moaning mess, the friction feeling too good. Nirei removed himself from your neck in order to look up at your face. you were so beautiful whenever you were worked up like this. your face was completely red and flushed from the tension. with the way your legs were practically trembling and how tears were threatening to fall from your eyes he knew you were close. “so pretty” he murmured softly as he placed a sweet kiss on your lips. the two of you nearly on ends ready to collapse together. until you heard the door slide open and both of you froze in place.

“hey Nirei, someone told me they saw you come in here.” a voice started but trailed off as they noticed the position you two were in.

to Nirei’s pleasant surprise he found himself regaining control quickly. he managed to cool his face off fast and gain composure before looking over at the door. you, however, couldn’t do the same. you quickly turned your face to the opposite side of the room avoiding any contact with the person at the door. Nirei was feeling both relieved and embarrassed to see Suo at the door. he didn’t believe Suo actually knew what the two of you were doing. in hindsight, anyone would assume the two of you were having a casual make out session. Suo, in fact didn’t think anything more was happening either. he was blindsided to the absolute desperation that was previously unfolding.

“my apologies, I didn’t realize you were here with your girlfriend.” Suo spoke honestly. he excused himself and left while saying “I’ll see you in class Nirei.” he was already planning to 100% tease Nirei in class.

Nirei let a sigh of relief slip as soon as Suo left and closed the door. the two of you sat in silence for a moment before Nirei peeked to see your expression. you were incredibly red with embarrassment which caused him to smile. he couldn’t help it, you were always the bold one in the relationship so seeing you behave otherwise was adorable to him. you finally turned to face him with a glare as if it was his fault the two of you had gotten caught.

“don’t look at me like that, you know this was your idea anyways.” Nirei smiled nervously, in response to your glare. your glare didn’t last long since you knew he was right.

“how embarrassing!” you exclaimed as you covered your face with your hands and buried yourself into his chest. Nirei could only laugh in response before ruffling your hair. he embraced you as he tried to comfort you.

“could’ve been worse.”

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

“Toga we should stop, someone can come in.” you argued trying to pry your tall boyfriend off of you who was currently suffocating you in his french kisses. you heard him let out an annoyed groan before pulling away.

“who cares, you act like i can’t just make them disappear.” he says with a slight threatening undertone causing you to pout. you’ve told the man before that he can’t just keep threatening to beat anyone up when he doesn’t get his way. of course he never listens, he’s so used to getting what he wants. not that you could blame him, you’re the one who constantly spoils him.

“that’s not the point!” you argued back. despite arguing back you still tilted your head up so your boyfriend can get more access to you as he started kissing the skin on your neck, softly inhaling your sweet scent. Jo Togame will most definitely be the absolute death of you. he was the worst, so demanding, needy, and god help yourself, you were willing to give him anything he wants in life.

“so pretty” he murmured before clashing your lips together, swiftly slipping his tongue into your mouth making you gasp. he took it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss more before grabbing your hips and pulling you up. you instinctively wrapped your legs around him in return to the action. you were unsure of how it happened but the two of you had accidentally lost balance and landed on the ground. Togame broke your fall by flipping you two over so he was the one who landed on his back meanwhile you stayed on top.

“ouch.” he groaned while you on the other hand were still trying to catch your breath. “i prefer this position anyways.” he spoke before cupping your face and pulling you down to him. he returned to eagerly exploring every inch of the inside of your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours. you couldn’t stop the small mewls from coming out due to Togame’s rough kissing. he always kissed you as it’d be the last time he gets the chance.

“wow, this is a new style of fighting for you Togame.” a voice pitched up in amusement.

you wanted to jump at the sound of the voice but couldn’t. Togame had a strong hand wrapped around the back of your neck keeping you in place. “mmph!” you whined out before grabbing a hold of his shirt and pulling yourself up completely. he was insane, actually insane. how could he continue making out with you knowing someone else was in the room with you two. you glared at him with narrowed eyes while panting trying to regain control of your breath. he had an amused smirk placed on his face at your reaction.

“what do you want Choji? i’m busy, go away.” Togame causally addressed his small friend who was towering over the two of you watching the situation unfold. you went to get up completely but Toga moved his strong hold to your hips before you could. you pouted at your boyfriend in disapproval which he only smiled at.

“i’m so boreddddd, come hang out with me.” Choji complained as he dramatically threw himself over a chair.

“cant, im with my girlfriend.”

“who cares, bring her too. just don’t make out while we’re together.”

“no. go away.”

“PLEASE.”

“no. bye”

“dude.”

the boys continued to bicker while you facepalmed in defeat. how did you always get stuck in these situations? and why the hell was your boyfriend always so shameless? shouldn’t he care more? his solution can’t always be a threat, could it?

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

you and Choji came from two different worlds. you went to a private all girls school and had met Choji on your way home. the two of you hit it off from there. Choji was almost the complete opposite of you, happy, loud, cheerful, so full of energy. you were a straight A student along with being student body president. you had a lot on your plate so being around someone who radiated such care free energy made you happy. the two of you were currently hanging out at the ori, one of Choji’s favorite places.

“come here” Choji said snapping you out of your trance. he was standing in the middle of the stage with the biggest grin on his face. you raised an eyebrow, unsure of why he wanted you up there. nonetheless, you made your way up, it felt weird being up there. it made you feel small, you couldn’t imagine how it would feel being up here with a full audience, all eyes on you. Choji smiled as he grabbed your wrists pulling you closer causing you to blush.

“I want to teach you how to take someone down.” Choji believed everyone should fight, it was more fun that way. Choji was explaining what to do but you were so spaced out, only paying attention to his lips and the way his eyes shined bright with pure excitement. you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to spend this time doing something else more ‘fun’. you felt like a pervert thinking about him in a manner that wasn’t all that innocent or friendly.

before you can even react to what was happening you were sharply knocked off your feet. you let out a yelp and closed your eyes bracing yourself for the impact. the impact that never came as you felt a pair of arms catch you and gently place you down on the floor. your eyes fluttered open to meet Choji’s soft brown eyes. it took you a second before realizing he was on top of you, you felt your cheeks heat up by having him be so close.

“y/n, you weren’t listening were you?” he asked softly looking down at you as he grabbed your wrists once more holding them above your head.

“I-I was distracted. plus i’m not wearing fighting clothes!” you defensively said in return. his eyes moved from your face and trailed down your body until he saw the placement of his knee in between your thighs. your school uniform skirt was hiked up past your mid-thigh, exposing more skin than usual.

“I suppose that’s true.” Choji murmured before rubbing his knee up against your clothed cunt. you let out a small whimper in return before softly moaning his name. “hm? that feel good?” he asked locking his lips onto your neck, gently sucking on your smooth skin. Choji couldn’t help himself before moving one of his hands down to rub your cute little clothed cunt. he let out a small groan once he got a peek of your baby pink lacey underwear.

“oh god~ Choji, so so good” you moaned out trying to grind your hips against his fingers. you and Choji didn’t get a lot of chances to be this close but whenever you did it felt like heaven. something you’ve come to learn is that Choji is pleasantly talented with his hands in a way that didn’t involve fighting or any type of violence.

“let me taste you?” Choji asked looking up at you while guiding his head down. “yes please” you begged, before he could spread your legs the auditorium door opened with a bang. you immediately slammed your legs closed and sat up in response. Choji let out an irritated growl to losing you in your vulnerable position.

“get the fuck out.” Choji spat sharply turning to whoever opened the door. Choji’s demeanor changed into something unrecognizable. it was something you didn’t have any familiarity with. you watched as his eyes darken, he stood up and jumped off the stage. in all honesty, you felt guilty since an embarrassing amount of arousal reached your core from seeing him behave so deadly and intimidatingly. the poor guy let out a spew of apologies before running out. you heard Choji let out a deep sigh as he closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. his anger clearly wasn’t going away, all you were thinking about was how you could help him relieve himself.

“Choji.” your voice broke him out of his trance as he opened his eyes and snapped his head towards you. he made his way up to you and once he was close enough you gripped his shirt and pulled him closer. “c-can we keep going? please.” you begged looking up at him only for his dark eyes to already be staring down at you. he smirked before grabbing the back of your neck and crashing your lips together roughly.

a/n <3 : phewww this was a long one, I got carried away :’D I really wanted to include Suo but I was struggling to imagine him getting caught. I feel like he’d be so sneaky and careful it’d be impossible to catch him lacking. maybe part two with him ???? idkk. also nirei’s section might be a bit ooc since i got carried away while writing his part </3 this was my first time writing explicit content in a while, sorry if it’s a bit rough, hope yall still enjoy <33

[mattyriddlesbitch]

ima need to see some Theodore Nott x fem!reader smut where he finds out he likes being sub for only his girlfriend, please and thanks. this is so bad but make him gag on her fingers, i beg of you.

So Needy

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: Sub!Theo, Dom!Reader, oral(both male and female), I guess a tad of orgasm control, cussing.

18+ Minors DNI!

You have no idea just how much I love this ask. I was about to put the finger gagging thing in a sub Draco one, but decided against it. I have soooooo many thoughts on sub Theo. But for now, I’ll just do the first time he lets you dom him.

He was a little hesitant to let you take control, but his reason was that he didn’t want you to think any less of him. He didn’t want you thinking he was weak or pathetic.

But he was just so tired. And you were so so needy. And he likes taking care of you.

He was lying on his bed with you straddling him, grinding down on him for a little friction, a little relief. He had to admit, the sight of you on top of him was something he always loved. But you were a little hesitant to ride him before now. Now you were craving his dick in you. But you knew he was tired. He had just gotten back from a grueling quidditch practice. But he also just showered and smelled so good. And the way you felt his dick strain against his sweatpants as you were grinding on him felt so good.

“You know I wanna take care of you, mi amore.” He said, rubbing his hands on your thighs, your bare thighs, under your skirt.

“I wanna ride you.” You said, putting your palms on his chest for more leverage to keep grinding on him.

“Are you sure?” He asked, but he could see your blown out pupils and the way you were breathing.

“Yes.” You answer quickly.

“Alright, principessa, if you really want to.” He nodded slightly and you scrambled to get off of him quickly.

You quickly tugged off his sweatpants and underwear, and kneeled between his legs. He was already so hard from your grinding. You took his cock in your hand and leaned down, spitting on his cock and using your hand to spread it down the length of his dick. You teased his tip and he let out a soft groan. That groan went straight to your core and you moaned in return. You took him in your mouth now, slowly, oh so slowly and he threw his head back into the pillows.

“Your mouth is so perfect.” He said before looking back at you. He really did want to grip your hair and guide you, but he also loved the way you teased him. It drove him crazy. So he grabbed at the sheets instead. You looked up at him and it nearly killed him. He watched as you trailed your tongue along the bottom of his shaft and that sight alone could make him cum. He’s definitely remembering that the next time you can’t help him out. He was biting at his lip as he watched you, moaning desperately as you took him back into your mouth.

But that only lasted a few more moments before you had an idea and stood up, pulling off your panties. He watched you as you climbed back onto the bed, only this time you moved to straddle his face. His face was covered by your skirt, but he didn’t care. His mouth was on your pussy instantly, moving his hands to hold your hips. You moaned as you left him lapping at your pussy desperately. Almost like he was the one who started this all.

“God, Theo, you’re so good for me.” You said, holding onto the headboard. He moaned into you in response. He seemed to like that. A lot. “You’re such a good boy for me.” You said before reaching down and moving your skirt a bit to hold onto his hair. You started riding his face, moving your hips to rub your pussy on his tongue. He was moaning and groaning so loud now, even louder than you, like this is what he lived for. “That’s it, baby, just keep doing that for me.” You said, throwing your head back as you moaned. His face was still hidden by your skirt, but if you could see him, you could see just how fucked out and pussy drunk he was.

Your orgasm came faster than expected. You trembled and cried out above him and he just stayed there, holding you up as he helped you ride out your high. 

You moved off of his face and now you could see just how fucked out he was. Face red, pupils blown, lips and chin all wet from you, chest heaving as he watched you strip fully before coming back to the bed, kneeling beside him.

“You wanna cum now, baby?” You asked him, running a hand through his hair as he nodded. “No. I need your words. What do you want?” You asked and reached your hand to stroke at his cock.

He closed his eyes for a second, groaning softly before looking at you again. “I wanna cum in you, cara mia.” He said, and you could feel him trying to thrust into your hand for more friction.

“Beg.” It was a simple command. But you had no idea where this came from. You’d never done this before. But it was amazing. Seeing your hot, strong, and desperate boyfriend begging for you and letting you do whatever you wanted with him. He was hesitating, so you moved your hand from his cock and he whimpered. That fucking whimper.

“I need to cum in you so bad, principessa, please. Please fuck me.” He said, he looked so embarrassed. But it seemed his neediness outweighed it.

“So fucking needy.” You said and moved to straddle him, positioning him at your entrance. “And here you were, complaining about how tired you were.” You teased him before starting to sink down on him, moaning at the feeling. He moaned as well, grabbing at the sheets again so he wouldn’t touch you. He just wanted to see you ride him, take care of him, more than anything else in the world at this moment. You both moaned once he was fully inside you, taking a moment to adjust to his cock.

Once you started to move, he really didn’t hold back any sounds. All the moans, groans, whimpers, whines, curses, compliments. They all came out of his mouth as he watched your pussy taking his cock over and over. He couldn’t look away.

“You’re talking so much, amore mio. What’s got you so loud?” You said in a bit of a teasing tone.

“You feel so good, so tight, so warm.” He said, moaning again as you put your hands on his chest to start grinding, making his dick hit that spot inside you that could make you cum so hard you’ll scream.

“How about we put that mouth to use then.” You said and brought one hand up to his mouth, shoving two fingers in it. He was moaning around them now, licking and sucking away. “That’s my good boy.” You said and he rolled his eyes back, groaning. “You love being so good for me, don’t you?” You ask him and he moaned in response with the smallest nod. “You wanna be a good boy and fill me up?” He moaned and nodded again in response. “Ask me for it then.” You said and he groaned against your fingers. “You gotta ask.” He opened his mouth and was moaning, you could tell he was trying to talk, but your fingers were stopping him. “You’re trying so hard. You’re doing such a good job.” He whined and you smiled. “I wanna feel you cum inside, baby.” You said and he nodded slightly again, going back to wrapping his pretty lips around your fingers. 

You kept grinding on him, curses and praises leaving your mouth as his cock fit that spot over and over until you came again, trembling and cursing. He was right behind you, the feeling of your pussy cumming on him sending him over the edge, and he was filling you with his cum until it was spilling out of you.

As you both caught your breath, he leaned his head back onto the pillows, pulling off your fingers as he stared up at you.

“That was so fucking hot, cara mia.” He said, rubbing his hands soothingly on your hips and thighs. “You’re so hot when you’re in charge like that.”

“I have no idea what came over me.” You admit, still breathing heavily.

“I hope it comes over you more.”

[gothamhappiness]

The nightmare (Jason Todd x GN!reader)

Warnings: no proof reading, angst, kinda comfort but not really, mentions of blood, violence, Joker, dark!Jason at the end

You woke up sweating and your heart beating so fast that you thought it was going to explode inside your chest. You sat up before frantically looking for your boyfriend Jason in the bed. You needed several instants to collect yourself and remember that he was patroling away tonight.

You couldn't stay in bed, not after the nightmare you just had. You needed to busy yourself until Jason came back. You went into the kitchen and started to prepare some tea. Hopefully, it could calm down your nerves. You wanted to call Jay, but you were worried you would distract him during a mission.

The tea didn't help. Your eyes were focused on the time passing by. You were getting very distraught now. What if something had happened to Jason?

Just like in your nightmare.

At the instant you heard the window getting opened, you rushed to it. Red Hood barely had the time to get inside; you were already hugging him before checking him for any injuries. If your warm welcome made Jay smile at first, it was until he noticed how anxious you were. He removed his helmet, let it fall on the ground before gently cupping your face into both of his hands.

"Hey babe. Is everything alright?" he whispered to you

"I'm just... so happy to see you're all good" you replied, starting to cry.

Jason panicked. He wasn't standing to see you in such a bad state of mind. He quickly sat you down on the couch, then knelt down in front of you, trying to comfort you with gentle words and touch. You managed to calm down after a little while.

"I'm so sorry, this is so silly. I just had this nightmare and I worried about you and..." you babbled

"What nightmare, love?" Jay asked

You didn't reply. You weren't too sure you wanted to talk about it to Jason. He took your hands in his and stroked them.

"Alright, I'm gonna grab a shower and..."

"Let me take care of you" you asked

Jason simply nodded, he couldn't deny you anything.

You helped him undress and then washed him with great care and tenderness. It was allowing you to stop thinking about the nightmare. Jay enjoyed your quiet love for him. You were the only person who ever cared for him like that. He was so grateful you were part of his life. He didn't know how he could live without you.

He also looked after you in a comfortable silence even though your boyfriend hated to see you so tense. For the moment, he allowed you to keep your thoughts to yourself.

But at the instant you both settled in bed, he gently guided you on his lap. You instinctively snuggled against him.

"So, what's going on?" he whispered

"I'm not positive that I want to tell you about it..." You admitted

"Why not?" He stroked your cheek

"It was about... him." You said

"Him?" Jason asked even if he guessed your answer

"The Joker." You replied

"Alright, what happened with him?" He asked, his jaw clenched

"He... kidnapped the two of us. You were tied up on a chair, and his goons took me on top of a pool full of acid. Joker told me I had the choice. Or I could watch him club you to death, or I could jump in the acid." You explained.

Jason's face was unreadable, but deep down, he was losing his mind.

"And what did you say, love?"

"I jumped of course, and I woke up" you murmured.

Jason instantly grabbed your face and brought you even closer to him.

"My love, I need you to make a promise to me then. Even if I'll do anything to keep you safe, if one day something like that happens, never choose me over yourself. Promise me you'll do everything to stay alive." he was deadly serious

"But Jay..."

"No but. I don't matter."

"How can you say something like that! This is not true! I love you" You cried out

"Let's me rephrase that. If I die, nothing bad will truly happen out of it. You'll get upset, but it'll pass. On the other hand, I can assure you that no one in Gotham would want to deal with the aftermath of your death."

"What... what do you mean?" You frowned

"That if anything happened to you, I'll burn this whole city to the ground and there would be no survivor. Not even Batman." Jason darkly promised

"Jay..." You were speechless

"You are my world, my everything, and if I lose you, everyone goes down with me. So now promise me you'll always pick yourself over me and anyone else, baby." He continued

"I... I promise you." You replied as you realised it was the only answer you could give him.

[moonselune]

I know you did this with the female companions but can you please write the male Companions helping Tav putting on a shirt after them recovering from shielding their lover from a fireball

Also I love how you write Wyll, sometimes it’s hard to find Wyll fics, and I really appreciate you writing him <3

yes yes yes yes

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The smell of charred wood and burnt cloth still lingered in the air as Gale fussed over you, his worry evident in every gesture. You winced as you tried to lift your arms, the burns from the fireball making the movement painful. Gale, ever the doting wizard, was having none of it.

“You shouldn’t be moving at all,” he insisted, his voice tinged with both concern and frustration. “I can’t believe you threw yourself in front of that fireball for me. What were you thinking?”

You offered a weak smile, trying to downplay the severity of your injuries. “I’m fine, Gale. Really. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Gale’s brow furrowed as he examined your burns, his fingers gently brushing against your skin. “Not as bad as it looks? You have second-degree burns! You should be resting, not trying to put on a shirt.”

He retrieved a clean shirt from his pack, carefully unfolding it. “Alright, let’s get this on you,” he said, his tone softening. “But you need to let me do all the work.”

You nodded, grateful for his help. Gale moved with meticulous care, slipping the shirt over your head and guiding your arms through the sleeves. His shirt was a looser fit and smelled like him, sandalwood and jasmine. Every touch was gentle, his fingers avoiding the worst of the burns. Despite his over-the-top concern, you couldn’t help but feel touched by his dedication.

“Thank you, Gale,” you said softly, meeting his worried gaze. “I appreciate you looking after me.”

He sighed, a mixture of relief and lingering worry in his eyes. “You’re welcome. Just promise me you’ll be more careful next time.”

“I promise,” you replied, offering him a reassuring smile. “But you know I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Gale shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re impossible,” he said, his tone affectionate. “But I suppose that’s why I care about you so much.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

Astarion’s hands were surprisingly gentle as he helped you sit up, his usual playful demeanor tempered by genuine concern. The burns from the fireball still stung, but his touch was careful, avoiding the worst of the injuries.

“You really are something, you know that?” Astarion said, his tone a mix of admiration and frustration. “Throwing yourself in front of a fireball for me. What were you thinking?”

You managed a weak chuckle, wincing as you moved. “I was thinking I couldn’t let you get hurt,” you replied. “You’re too important to me.”

Astarion’s expression softened, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “You’re too important to me, too,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “Now, let’s get you dressed before I start to feel guilty all over again. Guilt is not a good look on me.”

He retrieved a shirt from his belongings, his usual teasing smirk returning. “Though, I must say, I do enjoy seeing you like this, my love” he said, his tone playful. “All needy, and dependent, perhaps I should ‘help’ you more often.”

Despite the pain, you couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re actually impossible, Astarion.”

He grinned, carefully slipping the shirt over your head. “That’s what you love about me, darling,” he quipped. “Now, let’s see if we can manage this without causing you more pain.”

Astarion’s hands moved with surprising tenderness, guiding your arms through the sleeves with deft precision. He adjusted the shirt, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

“There,” he said, stepping back to admire his work. “You look almost presentable, my darling,”

You smiled, the warmth in his gaze comforting. “Thank you, Astarion. For everything.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against your forehead. “You’re welcome,” he murmured. “Just promise me you’ll be more careful next time. I can’t lose you, not after everything.”

“I promise,” you replied, your voice steady. “But you know I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe.”

Astarion sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. “And that’s why I adore you,” he said. “Now, let’s get you some proper rest. You’ve more than earned it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The aftermath of the battle had left you feeling sore and exhausted. Your burns from the fireball still throbbed, but the sight of Wyll’s worried expression was almost worse. He sat beside you, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and concern.

“You, my dear, are far too brave for your own good,” Wyll said, his voice soft yet firm. He retrieved a clean shirt from your pack, his movements careful and deliberate. “I can’t believe you shielded me from that fireball. You’re incredible, reckless, but incredible.”

You tried to downplay the pain you felt with a weak smile. “I couldn’t just stand by and let you get hurt, Wyll. Had to protect that pretty face.”

Wyll’s eyes softened, and he let out a light laugh, but as he looked at the severity of your injuries, his usual charming demeanor taking on a more serious tone. “You mean the world to me. I hope you know that."

"Of course, I do my beloved," you smiled at him, "In fact, I figured it was my turn to take a hit, considering it seems to be your favourite past-time."

"I can't help it if I just want to protect you," Wyll chuckled, shaking his head. "Now, let’s get you dressed, it's the least this damsel no longer in distress can do."

He gently slipped the shirt over your head, guiding your arms through the sleeves with the utmost care. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were handling something precious. Every movement was accompanied by soft words of encouragement and praise.

“There we go,” he said, smoothing the fabric over your shoulders. “Perfect. You’re looking more regal than ever, my brave knight.”

You chuckled softly, wincing at the pain. “You always know how to make me feel special, Wyll.”

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “That’s because you are special,” he murmured. “And I’ll make sure you know it every single day.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The burns from the fireball had left you in agony, but you were determined not to let it show. Halsin, however, was having none of it. He stood by your bedside, his expression a mix of frustration and concern.

“You should have come to me sooner,” Halsin scolded gently, retrieving a clean shirt from your pack. “You’re always trying to do everything on your own.”

You offered a sheepish smile. “I didn’t want to bother you, Halsin. I’m fine, really.”

Halsin’s eyes softened, but he shook his head. “You’re not a bother. You’re my priority.” He carefully slipped the shirt over your head, his touch both firm and tender. “Now, let’s get this on you, my love.”

His hands moved with practiced ease, guiding your arms through the sleeves and adjusting the fabric to avoid aggravating your burns.

“You need to rest,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “Staying in bed is the best thing for you right now.”

“I promise I’ll rest, eventually” you assured him, your voice sincere. “But I can’t just lie here all day. There are things we need to do.”

Halsin sighed, his stern expression softening. “You’re as stubborn as ever,” he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “But that’s one of the things I love about you.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his touch comforting. “Just promise me you’ll take it easy, alright?”

“I promise,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “But only if you stay with me.”

Halsin chuckled, his eyes filled with warmth. “Always,” he murmured. “I’ll always be here for you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Rolan:

You sat on the edge of the bed, the remnants of the fireball’s searing heat still pulsing through your burns. Rolan stood before you, shirt in hand, his expression a mix of worry and frustration.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he lectured, his voice stern as he carefully unfolded the shirt. “Throwing yourself in front of a fireball for me? What were you thinking?”

You winced as he slipped the shirt over your head, his hands moving with both frustration and care. “I couldn’t let you get hurt, Rolan. I just reacted.”

Rolan’s hands stilled for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “You could have been killed,” he said, his tone sharp. “You need to think before you act. This reckless bravery of yours—”

You leaned forward and kissed him, effectively silencing his lecture. His initial surprise quickly melted into a soft, albeit exasperated, sigh as he kissed you back, his lips gentle yet insistent.

When you finally pulled away, Rolan’s eyes had softened, though his worry was still evident. “You’re incorrigble,” he muttered, his voice low. “But I love you for it. Just… please, be more careful.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “I promise I’ll try. But I can’t help wanting to protect you.”

Rolan shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Just try not to get yourself killed, alright? I’d rather not have to lecture you in the afterlife.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Raphael:

The burns from the fireball were agonizing, but Raphael’s anger was so much worse. He stood before you, his eyes blazing with fury, his demonic heritage making the cambion even more intimidating.

“You’re a fool,” he growled, snatching the shirt from your hands. “Throwing yourself in front of a fireball? Do you not realize who I am? I am literally fire resistant. You fool”

You flinched at his harsh words, but you knew his anger stemmed from concern. “I get it, Raphael! I just reacted!”

He huffed, slipping the shirt over your head with more force than necessary.

“Your stupidity knows no bounds,” he muttered, his hands surprisingly gentle despite his words. “What would I have done if you died? Leaving me to deal with the fact that my beloved got herself killed by sacrificing herself for a fireball, that I am resistant to!”

You winced as he adjusted the fabric, the pain from your burns flaring up. “I’m sorry, Raphael” you huffed. “I didn’t think.”

"Evidently!" Raphael paused, his anger momentarily giving way to a flicker of vulnerability. “Regardless of your lack of sense, you are my fool,” he said quietly, his voice softer. “And I’d rather not lose you to your own stupidity.”

You reached out, taking his hand. “I promise I’ll be more careful,” you said sincerely.

Raphael’s eyes softened, though his expression remained stern. “You are insufferable,” he muttered, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But you’re my insufferable fool. Just… don’t make a habit of this.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “I won’t. I’ll try to be more careful. For both our sakes.”

Raphael sighed, pulling you closer. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I have no intention of losing you. Not now, not ever.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

This was so wholesome icl and Raphael's was so fun to write lmao, i can imagine him just losing his shit at reader, hope you enjoyed this - Seluney xox

[fushiguho]

Fuck It, Guess We Both Ain’t Shit!

☆ WORD COUNT 4.6k ☆ SYNOPSIS You can never pass up a fuck from your favorite whore, especially since no one can take care of you in the ways he can. However, beyond his deft cock and fingers, there’s nothing more to desire. After all, you and Gojo are nothing more than insatiable sluts at the end of the day. ☆ CONTENT WARNINGS Gojo Satoru is a slut but so are you, cunnilingus, spit, choking, name calling (slut & whore), Gojo Satoru is uncharacteristically selfish, reader is kind of a bitch ☆ A/N I actually wasn’t planning on turning this into an entire fic but I literally could not stop writing! Also this is loosely based off Megan’s song B.A.S. if you couldn’t tell! :p

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

satoru :/

11:40 pm i'm outside! 11:41 pm let me in so i can eyp :p

Read 11:41 pm

You almost can’t help but to roll your eyes at the messages on your screen. At this hour? Typical Satoru. His text really shouldn’t make your tummy flutter in arousal, but it does, it always does. It has to be something in the way he fucks because it can’t possibly be because of who he is as a man. He is quite frankly the textbook definition of a man whore, yet still, not a second thought passes when you fly down the hall to let him in. What is he good for if not a nice fuck?

“Hi, pretty girl.” He grins wide when you finally open the door for him. “Miss me?” He purrs, holding out his arms in embrace to which you pettily decline with a suck of your teeth, stepping aside to grant him entrance into the apartment he knows all too well. “Well, I missed you,” he still replies, slyly slipping past you to skip toward your bedroom, “especially that pussy!” He adds, disappearing down the dark hall.

Bewildered by his gradual increase in familiarity with your home, you close the door behind him with a huff. “You just saw me two days ago, Satoru. How can you miss someone so soon?” You question, following him down the narrow hallway.

Satoru is already sitting at the foot of your bed when you enter the room. “Y’know, you’re probably the only girl who’s ever questioned why I miss her.” He admits while leaning back to rest on the palms of his hands, his long legs naturally spreading at the knee as he relaxes into the mattress. “Why don’t you ever accept my flattery? Hurts my heart when you’re so mean y’know.” His head is cocking to the left, a feign frown marring his pretty, pink lips.

“Hmmm… maybe because you’re a whore and I just don’t like you, like at all. Ever thought about that?” You snide as you slowly stalk toward him, watching as he scoots further onto the bed, sterling blue eyes darkening to something dangerous.

A wicked grin is tugging at the corners of his wet lips, “but I’m your whore.” He corrects as you push him in the chest, beckoning him to lay down so that you can straddle his hips. “I’m anything you need me to be—a whore, a slut, a quick fuck…” he trails off when you roll your hips against him once, “fuuuuck, you knew I was a slut from the beginning. You love it.”

Truthfully, Satoru loves when you’re mean to him, in fact, he prefers it. In this world, there is absolutely nothing that makes him harder than your abrasive tone, especially when you call him a whore. He wears the title with unfeigned dignity and a throbbing cock. You can nearly feel the faint twitch of it through his little, black, Dri-FIT running shorts. God, how is he so hard already?

Warm palms are gripping at the thick of your hips, guiding your languid movements. Satoru huffs out the prettiest little sighs when he firmly presses his cock against the palpable heat of your core, wantonly bucking his hips to feel you closer, shamelessly humping you like a dog in heat. His head is rolling to the side, stomach already knotting in the need to release. He just got here and is already completely feral, but he’s not alone, it truly takes two.

Satoru definitely doesn’t miss the way you push yourself firmer against him, dry humping him like your favorite pillow. His jaw sits slack, breaths cut short and ragged, completely enthralled by the way you moan and gasp and whimper above him, holding his intense gaze with your raptured eyes and furrowed brows. God, you’re always so fucking pretty like this. He curses to himself when you’re falling forward to catch his lips in a sloppy kiss.

The suddenness has him moaning into your mouth, promptly matching your fervor as he brazenly tastes your sweet lips and tongue. Satoru can feel his cock growing impossibly harder, the poor, swollen head beginning to leak against the fabric of his overpriced athletic shorts, leaving behind the nastiest little stain. He’s nearly whimpering from the friction of your pathetic grinding, panting insatiably as he stuffs his tongue into your mouth, greedily tasting you.

He can hardly help the hot trail of his needy hands as he feels you up. Warm, calloused and eager palms are slipping up your shirt, around your neck, over the fat of your ass, in your slutty little shorts, everywhere. Satoru holds you close, a dexterous hand taut against your throat, his other tucked inside your shorts, groping and kneading your bare ass, wet lips still slotted against one another.

You and Satoru are not much different than two feral dogs. The type of dogs who have to be separated in order to function because they simply can’t keep their filthy paws off eachother. Nobody gets you like this but him. You’re nearly falling apart at the hands of Satoru, unraveling like cheap thread, slowly morphing into something of his creation. He cannot keep getting away with this.

He wills himself away to admire your kiss-bitten lips, eyes low and hooded. Satoru might as well be drunk off you as a slow, dopey smile plays his swollen lips, “You always get so slutty for me… hardly even hafta touch you,” he rasps, lust-stricken eyes searching for yours as your throat sits tucked in his hand, “but you’re so fucking pretty like this… always been so pretty for me. That’s why you’re my favorite girl.”

His sugary words of praise are nothing but fuel to a rampant flame. Arousal weeps from your poor cunt, nearly causing you to shudder at the sudden emanation of warmth. The wanton roll of your hips only spreads your slick essence along the expanse of your pussy, creating the most sinful pool of arousal in your shorts. You’re already so overwhelmed as it’s all too much, you hardly notice the hands slipping up your shirt to impatiently take it off.

“Off—take this off… wanna see those pretty tits that I missed so much,” he breathes, and in a split second, your shirt is gone, the plush fat of your breasts suddenly on display and all for him, “fuck yes, so prettyyyy, baby… fuck.” Satoru is so impatient, always has been, so he truly can’t stop the hands that are pulling you forward by your waist so that he can stuff his face between your breasts. His warm tongue drags along the skin, sloppily swirling and licking anywhere he can reach, “missed them in my mouth like this… always taste so good.” he hums, sweet moans of satisfaction dragging from his slack jaw, absorbing into your ample skin. Satoru’s cock jerks against your clothed cunt when he slips your nipple into his mouth, “I missed you, say it back.” He whines.

Your head falls back slowly to dangle over your shoulders as he licks a messy trail of saliva along the expanse of your chest. “Unh uh, how many girls have you already told that to this week?” Your breath is ragged, so incredibly close to getting caught in your throat and having you stumbling over your words but you hold strong. “Probably what, like three? Four other girls?” You interrogate as you bite back an onslaught of helpless whimpers.

Satoru shrugs implausibly, pulling you further onto his cock as if to distract you, “Does it matter?” A sinful, toothy grin crinkles his darkened eyes as a slender hand is reaching between your warm bodies to slip past the waistband of your teensy, satin sleep shorts. “I missed you the most… nobody else gets this wet for me.” your mouth gapes when he runs the entirety of his palm along your slick cunt, obscenely collecting your viscous arousal, only to then pull his hand toward his lips and lick you clean off his fingers. Satoru slurps and hums obnoxiously, his eyes even flutter shut in satisfaction. “Mmm, ‘n you taste the sweetest too… you gonna let me eat that pretty little pussy again? Y’know I do it so much better than anyone else… you told me. Remember how much you came for me last time?” His lips press to your skin, the timbre of his honeyed words sending you spiraling.

It doesn’t take long for your mind to wander back to that night. The night he had you sprawled open for him, large, nimble hands pinning your quivering thighs to the ruffled sheets whilst he spits into your cunt, only to lean down and slurp it back up with his tongue, repeating the cruel cycle over, and over, and over again until he had you creaming all over his pretty face. God, of course you remember. You can’t help but nod down at him, eager to feel his sloppy mouth and tongue.

A startled gasp slips past your lips when he’s slipping from beneath you to turn you over, laying you on your stomach so that he can kneel behind you. Satoru groans dangerously low in nothing but carnal hunger when he impatiently tugs at your teeny shorts, baring your plush cheeks. He pulls the sodden article down your legs, nearly moaning at the way gossamers of your arousal kiss the soft fabric, stretching so far until it snaps from the growing distance.

“I wanna taste her from the back this time.” Satoru’s pulling you up by your hips, positioning you on your knees so that he can see the entirety of your cunt in all of her sloppy glory. “Just be still for me ‘n stay like this. Don’t move.” A deft hand is pushing you into a deep arch, stuffing your face into the stuffed animals that line your headboard. He always handles you like some sort of rag doll—pinning and perfecting your position so that he can eat you just how he likes, but you never seem to mind.

The warm fan of his breath against your sopping cunt makes you shudder, but it’s the wet, ponderous drag of his tongue that forces a helpless whine from your lips. Satoru hums sweetly, simpering to himself before he does it again, and again, and again—flattening his tongue, licking several, languid strips up your heat, your candied arousal pooling on the tip of his tongue.

You’re craning your head to the right, stealing a glimpse of the ivory-haired fiend behind you. Several loose strands of snowy white adorn his forehead, occluding his vision and he’s utterly insatiable—long, wet tongue fucking and swirling inside of your sloppy little hole, tasting you from the literal source. “F— fuck, Satoru,” he’s ferally lapping you up, huffing and moaning against your cunt as if you were an oasis amidst a barren desert and he’d die if not for your saccharine water, “mmph, feels s-so good… always eat me so fucking good, ‘Toru! You’re my f— favorite eater, mhm.” You’re mindlessly babbling, uttering complete nonsense, but your brainless words make all the blood in his body rush for his cock. Fuck, you’re going to kill him.

Satoru laughs into your cunt. It’s a dark, humorous chuckle, one that has his warm breath fanning against your ravaged lips, making your tummy knot in ever growing arousal. “Do you even hear yourself?” He’s wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking feverishly with audible pops and smacks. He’s muttering between prolonged drags of his sloppy tongue, “Sound so fuckin’ crazy talkin’ ta’me like that, oh my god.”

All of those callous, petty little remarks you dished out were long forgotten, somewhere so far gone, so distant that you forget why you’re even mean to him in the first place. His tongue is like a potion of amnesia, blinding each and every one of your senses so that he can morph you into his perfect slut. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. This is exactly why he’s your favorite whore—exactly why you always seem to default back to him because nobody can take care of you the way Satoru can.

He always gets you so fucking slutty. The prettiest moans tumble from your gaped mouth, rivulets of drool staining your poor squishmallow. If there is one word to describe you right now, it’s greedy. Greedily, you’re begging for more, not even entirely sure what more means, just that you need it and you just might die from the sheer deprivation. You hardly even notice the subtle roll of your hips as you attempt to take more from him, grinding your needy pussy onto his warm, adept tongue.

Two, large hands grip the fat of your ass to rudely spread you apart, stilling you. “Stay still..." he mutters, spitting once into your cunt, a fat glob of saliva landing with a plap, "wouldn't wanna take a mess, hm?” Long, deft fingers delve between your slick folds to spread the mess, sneakily dipping inside of your sloppy hole to further distribute the wetness. Satoru spits again, this time onto the puckering hole that sits a bit higher, watching with drunken eyes as it slowly dribbles from your asshole to your pretty, aching pussy. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck... look at thatttt." he drawls mesmerized, a fat thumb ever so slowly sinking inside of your tight hole, filling you up everywhere. God, he’s so fucking hard. You really are his favorite girl.

“Y-you're so nasty.” You huff between saccharine whimpers, fighting the gnawing urge to let go and cum all over his beckoning tongue. You can nearly cringe at the lewd squelch of his fingers as they drag along the your sopping walls, stretching you out perfectly so that when he inevitably can't bare anymore of this torture, you'll effortlessly take all of his cock as he fucks you until your drooling all over yourself.

He spits into you again, pummeling two, deft digits inside of your cunt, the thumb of his other hand snug in your pretty little hole. A chain of slutty, guttural moans tumble past your lips, heading straight for his cock, forcing the tip to leak crudely. Fuck, it hurts so fucking bad. You always manage to get him the hardest. He can’t even help the trail of his eyes up your perfectly arched back. The way you're just laying there for him, huffing out sighs of his name and pretty little whimpers, taking all of his tongue and fingers like a good girl should. It's almost too much for him to bear, it nearly has him spilling into his shorts.

"Touch yourself, I know you wanna... s'okay, rub that pretty clit for me," his silken voice is like honey, sending dangerous vibrations throughout your core, his wet lips pressing against your pussy, kissing and drinking up your sinful pool of arousal, "yeaaah, good girl. Touch yourself sooo good for me... want you to cum just like this so I can fuck you nice 'n deep just how you like, 'kay?" He's getting so drunk and nasty—slurring his words between purposeful drags of his tongue, the haphazard, relentless batter of his fingers in and out of your sticky hole, the subtle buck of his hips against the thick air, fuck. He needs you to cum for him now, or he's sure he'll die right here at the foot of your bed. "Cum for me so I can fuck you, pretty girl... cum on my fingers with my thumb in your ass like this. God, you're so fuckin' slutty takin' all of my fingers everywhere… such a nasty whore for me."

If anyone is nasty, it’s him. Oh, Satoru is so fucking nasty. You almost think he was put on this green Earth to lick, fuck, and suck like it’s his sole purpose. And what a filthy little mouth he has. Maybe that's why you crave him the way that you do—why you’re drawn to him in the way you are—why he makes you feel the way he does, the way no one else does. Despite the fact that he��s childish and irksome and selfish, he definitely has a cock and a tongue and unfortunately for you, he knows how to use them.

You're helpless and drooling, whimpering pathetic pleads of his name as your head spins, your orgasm swelling in the pit of your tummy. As you frantically play with your swollen clit, you feel it, you're right there, suspended from the summit of no return. Your eyebrows are furrowing as your breath shudders and then you feel the repetative curl of his fingers, selfishly pulling your orgasm out of you and you're beyond delirious.

Satoru is shamelessly lapping you up—contently slurping and swallowing everything you give him as if he’s on the brink of death and your pussy is the only thing that’ll nurse him back to life. Usually, he’d let you ride out your orgasm—let you buck and rut against his pretty face until you’re satisfied, but tonight he’s impatient. He’s not even thinking as he’s frantically slipping out of his soiled shorts, baring his stiff cock, too much a slut to even wear underwear anymore.

He’s so overwhelmed by his innate need to fuck that he doesn’t even think to warn you as he’s hastily repositioning himself behind you before immediately pressing his leaking head against your hole, slowly sinking his cock inside of your carefully prepped cunt, bottoming out in one, fell swoop. A singular, drawn out, synchronous moan echoes throughout your bedroom as he stuffs you to a hilt, his needy hands searching for purchase on your hips, tucking himself impossibly deeper.

Full. You’re so fucking full of him. “Hah—oh my god, ‘Toru!” You gasp, jaw falling slack when he draws his hips back to slowly pummel forward, again, and again, and again. He doesn’t even register his subtle manhandling as he pulls you onto his cock, his increasingly aggressive thrusts interrupting your gasps in cute little ah! ah! ah’s!

Satoru’s mouth hangs open as he fucks himself so deep, his stomach sinking in arousal at the way your pussy drenches him completely, swallowing him whole, yet it still isn’t enough, not for a greedy slut like him anyway. “Want you to spread that pussy for me, sweet girl... wanna see all of you,” Satoru groans as his hands reach for yours, situating your palms on the fat of your ass, “yeaaaah, fuck. Look at that pretty pussy takin’ me so fuckin’ well… gettin’ my cock so wet. Such a good girl spreading yourself open for me like that… my favorite girl.”

With your right cheek snug against one of your stuffed animals, your mouth sags open for stifled whimpers to tumble wantonly, fatigued arms straining as you obscenely stretch yourself nice and wide and all for him. Nobody takes his cock better than you, his favorite slut. You’re just so exposed and vulnerable for him, so ready to take anything he’s willing to give, so pretty and obedient too. Fuck, you’re actually going to kill him.

“H-harder… fuck me harder,” you huff as you send your hips backwards, attempting to meet his heavy thrusts halfway, “f— fuck me like your favorite slut… hah—know you can fuck me harder than that!” You don’t even need to see the way he hikes his right leg up, planting his foot on the unkempt sheets so that he can angle his hips downward ever so slightly, pummeling into you impossibly crueler than before, the fat, swollen, mushroom tip of his cock repeatedly kissing the spot only he can reach. “Fuuuuck yessss, s’good… missssed your p-perfect cock, ‘Toru!” You’re slurring over yourself, babbling slutty little words of praise, finally succumbing to the obvious truth that you did in fact miss him, but all the confirmation he needed was way you were beginning to push up onto your hands to roll you hips perfectly, easily fucking him back.

All he can do is laugh at your desperation, a deep, incredulous chuckle that has all of your remaining sensibility blowing out of the window. “Yeah? My sweet girl missed my perfect cock so much, huh?” Satoru hums between the relentless batter of his hips, “Needed me to come over and fuck the shit outta her like the greedy, cock-hungry slut she is? Hah—ohhh, fuuuck.” He’s leaning forward to take you by the throat, pulling you upright so that your backside can press to his sweat-ridden chest, suspending you in the air. You can hardly think when his other hand is snaking down your tummy to rub purposeful circles on your swollen clit.

For once, you’re at a loss for words. Your brain is mush—clouded by nothing but thick tufts of cotton and the insatiable desire for more, more, more. That sweet, gaped mouth of yours falls into a pretty little o, strangled sobs and cries of rapture dragging from your tongue. God, you’re truly not sure if you’ll make it out alive. Not this time. Be careful for what you ask for because if you want to be fucked like a slut, he’ll do just that.

Satoru’s thrusts are almost hateful. They’re harsh, merciless, and just downright nasty. Everytime his hips collide with the fat of your ass, it forces a short huff of air from his lungs, interrupting his gutteral moans every so often. He’s not thinking, not really. How can he? Not when you’re reaching up with both hands to rest them over the hand that holds your throat, wordlessly encouraging him to choke you harder. You are a whore after all, what does he expect?

He quickly obliges, muttering a slew of incoherent profanities as his grip tightens in the slightest, cock twitching at the way you’re beginning to sputter and gasp for air between your sweet, pretty moans as he holds you close, his large nose brushing the skin at the back of your neck.

Satoru is so fucking greedy, he hardly notices the trail of his lips as he sloppily kisses your face and cheek, eventually turning your head enough so that he could catch your parted lips in a wet, haphazard kiss. It’s so sloppy. There’s no rhyme or pattern, just you panting into his mouth as he swallows all of your pretty wails of pleasure. Even the subtle exchange of saliva has your sticky walls squeezing the length of his cock as it slips in and out of your poor, ravaged cunt.

His lips are ghosting yours, “Who’s fucking you better than this, hm?” He grunts, a sneaky hand sliding up your tummy to feel your hardened nipples. “Tell me—hah—who the fuck is fucking you like this other than me.” The obscene, wet thwack of his heavy balls as they repeatedly strike against your swollen clit makes your head spin, you can hardly respond, but still, you try.

“N-no one, ‘Toru!” You’re gasping, fighting the gnawing urge to gush down the length of his cock, leaving behind nothing but the sluttiest, creamiest ring of arousal. “No one, ‘kay? You’re the b-best… you f-fuck me the best—make me feel the best!”

You can nearly hear the sinful grin that mars his lips, “Yeah?” He’s rolling one of your nipples between the pads of his thumb and index, eliciting a helpless string of whimpers from your slacked jaw. “Do I make you cum harder than any of your other whores?” There’s a detectable pang of jealousy in his tone. If you weren’t so stupid from his cock, you’d be able to hear it, but all you can do is nod dumbly, humming inaudible yeses and fruitless pleads.

“Mmph—gonna cum… gonna make me c-cum s’much, ‘Toru—fuck!” You’re writhing against him, sultry moans and choked gasps tumbling past your kiss-swollen lips and into his perked ears.

“Yeaaaah, pretty girl? You gonna cum so much?” He mocks, heightening the pitch of his voice to imitate you. “Fuck, do it then… cum for me again ‘n make a mess like you always do,” he’s releasing his taut grip on your throat, allowing you to topple forward, your face colliding with your poor, battered stuffed animals, “c’mon, make a fuckin’ mess, baby… want you to cum so good fa’me. Nobody does it better than you.”

And then, you feel it. Satoru’s timbre words of filthy encouragement has your stomach caving in sheer arousal, clouding your senses in a warm, white haze. You’re utterly delirious, head spinning as your eyes threaten to cross, drool spilling from the corner of your parted lips. Your ravaged, fucked-out body falls limp as he continues to pummel into your sloppy cunt, forcing your sweet, viscous arousal to leak onto the unkempt sheets below.

“So fuckin’ slutty for me… oh my god,” Satoru’s hips are stuttering, gradually growing sloppier as he spirals toward his own orgasm, “such a g-good pussy for meee—my favorite fucking pussy—mhmmm. God, I love it… you’re gonna make me cum.” Fuck, he’s so drunk off you—off your perfect pussy, slurring and stumbling over his words as if he’s truly intoxicated. It really doesn’t get better than you.

“In my mouth, ‘Toru! Want you to cum in my mouth… on my tongue,” you’re panting, craning your head to the side, your delirious eyes searching for his behind you, “I’ll swallow it all like a good girl… like a good slut” You promise, eyebrows furrowing in your overstimulated pleasure. He truly might’ve just died and gone to heaven.

With nothing but a strangled whimper in his throat, Satoru is slipping out of you, standing to his feet, and hurriedly flipping you over. As if it’s second nature, you’re sitting up on your knees and lolling out your tongue like a good girl should, long lashes fluttering sweetly as you wait patiently for your favorite treat.

God, he’s so fucking pretty like this. It’s the slow recline of his head as it falls back to dangle over his broad shoulders, the slight part of his wet lips as stifled whimpers and whines of your sweet name drag from his tongue, the subtle tense of his abdomen as his orgasm gradually swells in the pit of his stomach, the frantic stroke of his fist along the length of his cock, the way the tip weeps in sinful bubbles of precum. Fuck, all of it.

“Fuuuck—c’mere… open that fucking mouth wider fa’me. Gonna cum so much down that pretty little throat.” He’s taking you by the face, gaunt fingers squishing your cheeks tautly to yank you closer so that he can jerk the head of his cock against the plush center of your tongue. “Ohhh my god, you’re so pretty,” he gapes, ivory brows furrowing ever so slightly when you peer up at him, looking so ready and obedient, “you’re such a good girl… so fuckin ready for it. You really are a slut.” He huffs a gruff, humorous chuckle as if coming to the startling realization all over again.

You only nod as best you can under his harsh grip, panting like a fucking puppy as your warm breath fans the head of his cock, the bittersweet tang of precum invading your receptive tastebuds. He’s cursing profusely, muttering a slew of profanities and debauched words of praise as he whines almost as if he’s in pain. And then, Satoru’s cumming, hard. An unbroken chain of guttural moans drag from his gaped mouth as he’s spilling down your throat in several, thick, viscous gushes of cum, stuffing your mouth full.

It’s too much... all of it. His pretty boy moans, the way he drunkenly gazes down at you, the hand that’s slowly tugging your head back, the way he experimentally fucks into your mouth just a little bit, the firm press of your thighs as you contently swallow all of him; it’s all too much. It’s almost enough to have you cumming for the nth time tonight.

Satoru sucks his teeth, tutting. “And to think you didn’t even miss me.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

[poisonedprose]

₊˚✧ she said fuck me like im famous — in which ellie 'teaches' you how to play the guitar.

rockstar!ellie williams x fem!reader

warnings: 0.6.k words, smutty, is this highly inaccurate? probs. do i care? no. pet names (baby, babe, filthy girl), hand kink, teasing, reader wears a skirt, temperature play?, fingering, finger sucking

masterlists - new account @pearlcigs

The hum of Ellie's fingers plucking at the strings of her beloved guitar filled the room. She was sat on the bed, various bracelets cluttering her wrist. Your eyes were locked on her hands, watching intently, focused on her veins rather than her skills. Her shirt was unbuttoned, lazily array on her shoulders, the grey of her sports bra matching the boxers peaking through the top of her pants. She looked so good and had no idea what she was doing to you. "Come sit on my lap." Or maybe she did?

"Hm?" You responded, watching as she moved the electric guitar away from her lap to make room for you to sit. "Gonna teach you how to play." She smiles devilishly. You obey her wishes, skittishly walking towards her and sitting on her lap. Truly, you had no desire to learn how to play, more than okay with watching her experienced hands do all the work. She placed the guitar on your lap, chin resting on your shoulder.

Ellie grabbed your hands, putting them in the correct positions. She guided your fingers, her touch doing everything right to your body. Yeah, she definitely knew what she was doing to you. She strummed your fingers over the strings, the vibration on your thighs faint but you were already worked up. "Ellie." You uttered, a smirk on her face as she kissed your shoulder. "Yes, baby? Somethin' wrong?" She asked in a cocky tone.

Everything about her turned you on. "Do you need help?" Ellie's tone was confident, she was getting exactly what she wanted and you both knew it. "Saw you staring at my hands." She admits, kissing from your shoulder to your neck. "They excite you or something?" She continues with her painful teasing, stroking the strings once again to let the vibration flow your your thighs. "Ellie." You whimpered, composure quickly disintegrating.

"Bet you wish I was playing with you and not the guitar, hm?" One of Ellie's hands slide down to your thigh, squeezing tightly, veins becoming more prominent. "Yes." You admitted, breathlessly. "Yeah? Like seeing my fingers? Was doin' it on purpose." She admits, she was absolutely bold. Unafraid of the empty threats you might try to scare her with from her antics.

She moves the guitar off your lap, moving it to the side for later. Cold finger tips tickling up your thigh to you panty covered cunt. "Soaking through your pants, babe." She chuckles applying just the tiniest bit of pressure to watch you squirm. "El..." You whine, hips arching off her lap slightly. "Gonna fuck you like a rockstar and then write a song about it. Everyone's gonna know what a freak you are." Her free hand fingers her way to your lips, intruding through them. You don't even wait for her command to suck on her nimble fingers.

"The lyrics'll be about how much you love my fingers. How much you love them in your mouth... in your pussy.." She teases but she was far from finished, pushing your skirt up and pushing your panties to the side. The coldness from her hands make your warm cunt flutter from the temperature difference. "Maybe I'll put your desperate moans in the background vocals? Hm? How does that sound?" She slowly strokes your clit.

You moan, proving her point that the noises she drew from you were desperate. She slides a finger into your weeping cunt, pushing her fingers further into your mouth. The thrusts both hands at the same time, finger your cunt and mouth at the same time. "Yeah, baby. Take my fingers, filthy girl."

requested / inspired by @thatgiraffefromtlou rockstar ellie makes me lose it this took forever because i couldn't figure out how to execute it - i was also debating vibrator synced to the guitar with bluetooth so lmk if i should write that

[rationaliity]

church — chase atlantic

' i'm about to take you back to church well, tell me your confessions, baby, what's the worst ? baptize in your thighs 'til it hurts cuz i'm about to take you back to church '

requested

you were sunday's favorite. as pure as a lamb, his perfect little toy that he could do whatever he wanted with, even though he wouldn't tell you to your face. no, his actions said all that he needed to say, there was no need to speak his favoritism openly when you accepted him so easily.

you, his darling favorite, were on your knees, looking up at him from where he stood behind his pulpit, your head bowed to him in reverence, one hand curled over the other closed fist in a prayer. " forgive me, father, for i have sinned. " the words flowed effortlessly from your mouth, and he almost found himself unable to keep a calm look on his face, content with your piety.

with your head bowed, all you could hear were his footsteps as you prayed for his forgiveness. fingers hooked underneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. sunday loved this view of you on your knees in front of him, your eyes begging for a forgiveness that he was so willing to give, for a price.

" tell me of your sins, " his voice was as smooth as butter, his hand never leaving your chin, forcing you to look directly into his eyes as you confessed. and of course you would, who were you to ever disobey a direct order from sunday ?

" i have.. been touching myself, father, " you admitted, and he swore he could see you melt underneath his piercing gaze. " i know it's wrong, so every time i.. get close, i stop. i know it's not right to orgasm with such sinful intentions, but i.. father, the need.. these sinful urges are taking over my body, my mind. everything. i can't stop thinking about being touched by another. "

sunday is a man who's mind always precedes before his bodily needs. but with you looking up at him, begging him to do something to help you with your urges, even he couldn't turn a blind eye to his favorite believer in need, now could he ?

" this is quite unbecoming of you. i can't even begin to describe my disappointment in you, " although his voice was gentle, his words were biting, reminding you of your place beneath his elegance and divinity. he had the ability to be kind, but he could also ruin you. you could bend to his will, or you could break. he didn't care either way, as long as he had you right where he wanted you.

" i'm sor- "

" i'm afraid apologizing isn't going to make up for your actions. you know as well as i do that acting on such carnal desires are nothing short of blasphemy, " his lips curled into a smirk as he guided your head closer to him, your body leaning in subtly to his, until you were just inches away from him, and his legs were on either side of your body.

" how can i trust you not to act on these desires again ? one should, no, one must ensure that you never act senselessly again. be not afraid, i will take care of your desires. your reverence has never faltered, my precious devotee. i would not be in this position above you if i could not qualm your running thoughts, your aching body. "

" father, please, " you pleaded, the words falling off of your lips like you were about to cry, your bottom lip pouting just a little bit. " i cannot continue to live like this with these thoughts. i need you, father. " you were in the corner of his cage, caught up in his web of desires, but even if the door were open, you would stay.

" then worship me, " sunday commanded, his tone leaving no room for arguments. you only nodded, breathless, as your eyes so lewdly flickered down to his crotch just inches away from your face, his free hand unzipping his silver pants, the sound of the teeth of his pants coming undone enough to make your head spin. you hadn't realized that his hand on your chin had loosened, allowing you to look at him as he freed himself from his pants.

he wouldn't take his clothing off completely, that was entirely off of the table. even when committing such baseless desires. no, he was teaching you how to properly worship a man like him. your god. his hands were clean of sin, it was yours that needed his grace. what was the most efficient way of giving you the body of god himself ?

you didn't need to be told twice to worship him, something that sunday admired from you, always so obedient in everything that he said. you took his cock into your mouth, letting the fat tip of it rest on your flat tongue for a moment as you looked up at him, swearing the sun was in your eyes the way his bright golden eyes were looking down at you, scrutinizing your every move.

sunday didn't move, needing you to prove that you could do such a simple task without his assistance, and a god does not chase after his people, and you did not disappoint. your pretty lips wrapped around his cock so perfectly, your head bobbing up and down as you sucked, eliciting small groans of pleasure from him. drool slipped through your lips and onto your cute little white church dress, dampening the fabric.

your eyebrows were creased together as you worked your warm mouth along his shaft, your focus evident. although he was the one being pleasured, you looked like you were in ecstasy, losing yourself in his pleasure, cock drunk and only thinking about the way his precum tasted in your mouth, like holy water.

" what a perfect little lamb, " sunday purred, his chest rising and falling quickly, his bottom lip in between his teeth. you looked up at him the moment he spoke, your eyes cloudy with desire, but still determined to listen to his every word, hanging off of them as if they were your commandments. " purifying you from within, yes, this is the ideal. my innocent, pure acolyte. your defiling of your own body was sacrilegious, but don't worry. i'll save you. "

sunday was sure controlling you was his claim, his birthright. he could give and take away from you freely as he wished, and you were to give him your everything. and in turn for your everything, of course he could give you his blessings, in the form of exactly what you craved from him. as your mouth worked up and down his cock, the lewd sounds filling up the otherwise silent church, echoing within these holy walls, he felt the pressure threatening to burst out at any moment.

his hand grabbed your hair a little tighter than he expected to, quickly pulling you off of his cock. you hesitated for a moment, the suddenness of his actions catching you off guard, momentarily breaking the spell he had you under, your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked up to him. his free hand gripped his own cock, stroking the length with rhythmic strokes.

" did you think that i would be so generous ? " he asked, his voice holding a hint of condescension. " beg for it. beg for my blessing. beg for your god. "

" fa- g-god- " you stuttered out, his hand in your hair holding your head at the right angle so you could look up at him with your big, doey eyes. you weren't even looking at his ministrations in front of you, solely focused on his face, his radiance. " please- please, i need your blessing, god. i need you to bless this sinful body of mine with your holiness, " the words fell from your lips like a prayer, a mantra that he'd have you repeat over and over again. " my god, please. "

sunday felt his need come to a fever pitch at your prayers, and he threw his head back, moans slipping out as his orgasm exploded outside of him, coating you in his essence. thick ropes of cum splattered onto your face and chest, covering your hair and your forehead like the crown of thorns. his hand dropped his cock, letting it rest on your face, covering one of your eyes as his tip leaked cum into your hair even more as he caught his breath subtly.

" such devotion, your baptism has cleared you partly from your sins. " he murmured, finally releasing your hair, his eyes on how lewd you looked covered in his cum, his cock resting on your face as if that was all you were good for. but his price had been paid, and now he was ready to grant you his forgiveness. " go, sit in the pew. spread your legs for me, and i'll take care of the sins plaguing the inside of your body, too, where the baptism has not yet reached. don't worry, i will make sure your body is completely free of sin, inside and outside, my little dove. "

[yanderecrazysie]

Quality Mountain Time (Yandere Jade Leech)

Vignette: Quality Mountain Time

Pairings: Jade Leech x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes

“Are you the only applicant to the Mountain Lovers Club this year?” the man in front of you looks you over with sharp, mismatched eyes until you feel bare under his searching gaze.

“Um, yeah, I think so…” you squirm a little, uncomfortable with the way he stared so intently at you, “Sorry…”

The man smiles and you’re met with a row of needle-sharp teeth and a soft laugh. You’re beginning to regret your choice to join when the older student says, “You’re the first applicant to my club.”

“Really?” you were surprised. A club about hiking in the mountains would’ve been a hit where you came from. It was hard to believe that, in such a big school, you were the only other person to show interest.

“I’m Jade Leech, and you must be…” the man took a moment to look over your club application, his gloved hand resting on his bottom lip as he read your information, “...(Y/n)? Is that how you say it?” you nodded and he continued, “That's quite a beautiful name.”

“Thanks,” you replied bashfully.

Jade’s smile widened as he folded your application into a small square and tucked it away in his pocket. He held out his hand to you and you shook it, surprised by the firm gentleness of his grip. There was something about him, something unsettling yet oddly magnetic…

“If I may ask, what attracted you to my club?” Jade asked, his polite tone barely containing his excitement.

You laughed nervously, “I’ve always loved hiking and being in nature. It helps me clear my mind and relax.”

“Is that so?” Jade’s mismatched eyes narrowed slightly, “The mountains can indeed be very… relaxing. But they can also be very dangerous.”

You nodded, feeling a little uneasy, but you quickly brushed that feeling away, “I’m sure I’ll be in good hands with you as my guide.”

The words came out more flirtatious than you meant it to and Jade’s grin turned positively predatory, “Oh, you certainly will be. I’ll make sure of it.”

Before you could think to respond, he stepped closer to you. His presence seemed to take over the entire empty classroom. His hand moved to your shoulder and squeezed it lightly in what was meant to be a reassuring gesture. 

“I must admit,” Jade’s voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned in to speak into the shell of your ear, “I’m glad you’re the only applicant. It gives me the opportunity to pour my sole focus into you… to ensure you receive the best experience possible, of course.”

The way he said experience sent a chill down your spine. You couldn’t help but feel like there was more meaning to his words than he led on. Before you could worry about it too much, Jade stepped back, suddenly smiling calmly and casually at you, as though the moment of intensity had never happened.

“I will see you tomorrow on our first hike of the school year,” the smile on his face did not reach his eyes this time, “Make sure to dress warmly. The mountains can be… unpredictable.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Maybe you were crazy to stay in the club. Problem was, you weren’t the type of person to give up, and this was really the only club you had any interest in. Still, you recognized that there was potentially something wrong with your club leader and made sure to pack a can of pepper spray just in case.

When you arrived at the foot of the mountain, pack on your back filled with everything you thought you might need and more, you were surprised to find Jade waiting for you with just a small blue gym bag.

“You didn’t bring a lot of stuff,” you noted, pointing at the half-empty bag the older student held.

“I brought everything I need,” Jade said with a razor-edged smile. 

His words hung in the air and you looked at your stuffed backpack. Maybe you had overprepared, but it was strange… Jade kind of struck you as the type of person that would also overprepare.

“Shall we depart?” Jade asked, gesturing to the winding path that disappeared into the dense foliage that grew alongside the mountain trail.

“Y-yeah, let’s go,” you replied, adjusting your backpack and following him onto the path. The trail started off easy, not too steep and very smooth. The forest was quiet, except for the occasional bird song. 

Jade led the way, his strides long so that you had to pick up the pace to catch up, and purposeful, as though he had walked the path a million times before. As the hike continued, Jade began adding commentary to the nature that surrounded you both.

“That bird species is usually not around the mountain this time of year, aren’t we lucky to hear it now, (Y/n)?”

“That species of mushroom isn’t poisonous, but it’s becoming rarer, so we shouldn’t pick any of it.”

“That tree is probably at least a century old. And that’s young compared to the oldest trees recorded.”

After a while, the trail grew steeper and the trees became denser. The air was thicker and cooler, making it a little harder to breathe than before. You began to feel the strain in your legs and lungs, but Jade showed no signs of stopping. If anything, he seemed to be enjoying himself even more.

“Are you alright?” Jade asked, finally coming to a sudden halt and glancing over his shoulder at you with an almost mocking smile. You braced yourself against a tree and panted heavily. His sharp gaze seemed to be waiting for you to do something.

“I’m fine,” you said between small gasps, “I just need a moment.”

Jade nodded, his expression going blank and unreadable. He leaned against the nearest tree and watched you closely, his golden eye seeming to glow in the dim light. 

You couldn’t tell if he was concerned or if he enjoyed watching you struggle to breathe.

“You know,” Jade’s voice was so soft you had to strain your ears to hear it, “There’s something special about being up here, don’t you think? The isolation. The quiet. A world free of distractions.”

You nodded uncertainly, “Yeah, it’s pretty peaceful.”

“Peaceful… Yes…” Jade’s smile returned, much too wide and sharp to be normal, “It’s the perfect place to truly get to know someone.”

The way he said that made a shiver shoot down your spine. You shifted uncomfortably against the tree, painfully aware of how far away civilization was at this point.

“Let’s continue,” Jade said, pushing off the tree with languid grace. He held out his hand to you, that wide smile still on his face and his eyes lidded.

You didn’t take his hand and just nodded in response, avoiding his gaze as pushed off the tree on wobbly legs. The two of you continued the hike, but this time, you felt uneasy. Jade no longer offered narration on your surroundings, even when you passed more interesting-looking mushrooms. Realization hit you much further on.

He was leading you somewhere.

“Jade, are we still on the right trail?” you asked, forcing your nervousness down and out of your voice.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, not looking back at you, “I know this mountain like the back of my hand. You’re safe with me.”

You felt anything but safe anymore. The trees around you felt suffocating and the shadows seemed to close in on you. You gripped the straps of your backpack tighter and mentally noted where the can of pepper spray was hiding.

“I think I’ve had enough hiking for today,” you said, forcing a weak smile to your lips.

Jade turned back to stare at you, a flicker of something- disappointment or annoyance, you couldn’t tell- in his eyes. He tilted his head, looking you up and down for a moment, before he placed a hand over his heart and smiled convincingly at you.

“Are you sure? It would be a shame to turn back when we’ve come this far.”

You swallowed, “Yes, I’m sure. Maybe another time.”

That was a lie. You were never going on another hike with this creep ever again. He scared you way too much.

Jade’s smile dimmed for a moment, but he nodded and said in an ice-cold voice, “Very well, let’s head back.”

Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. As you turned to head back down the mountain, you could tell something had shifted in the atmosphere between you and him. He was behind you now and you could feel his mismatched eyes boring into the back of your skull.

And then, you felt it. A gloved hand wrapped around your wrist in a crushing grip. You froze, heart pounding as you slowly turned to face Jade.

His smile was gone, replaced by an expression of pure malice. His grip tightened even more and you let out a squeak of protest.

“I was hoping you would stay,” Jade murmured, looking almost hurt by your decision to leave early, “It’s rare for me to find a place in my heart for someone else.”

“Let go,” you demanded, reaching your hand back towards your backpack and feeling blindly for the pepper spray.

“Looking for this?” a lazy smile etched its way across Jade’s face as he held up the missing can, tilting it so that the nozzle faced your right eye. You froze in place, waiting for him to spray it directly into your eye.

Jade gave you a push backwards and you winced as your back hit a tree. He was quick to cage you in with his long arms.

“Don’t fight it,” Jade whispered, “We’re just getting started on our little hike. And there’s no one around to hear you scream.”

[fixyourwritinghabits]

How to Handle Critique

I’ve got to admit, I wish I was one of those beatific saints that could take critique with a grateful smile. Instead, I am constantly suppressing a horrible little gremlin at the back of my head hissing at anything from legit plot critiques to grammar corrections. I’m well aware I used that comma wrong, GOD.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very good at suppressing that gremlin, but the little bastard is still there. He exists because even though your brain knows critique can help, it also knows you worked damn hard on the thing being critiqued, and goddamnit, isn’t that enough???

Anyway, here are some tips on getting that gremlin to shut the hell up.

It is okay to be upset. You worked really hard on this thing, and now someone’s gone and pointed out all the things that suck about it. You cannot control how you feel about one thing or another, but you can allow yourself to feel that way and let it pass through you. Let your critique partner you’re taking time to reflect on it, and go for a walk. Do something else. Let those feelings pass through you before you get back to the page.

Give yourself time. Don’t feel like you need to correct things right away (unless they are minimal grammar tweaks). Some pieces of feedback might take awhile to sink in, especially when you’ve got a whole novel to wrestle through. Set it aside, think about something else for a week or so, and get back to it when you’ve reset.

Get a second opinion and/or ducky friend. It can be very hard to tell the difference between good and bad feedback sometimes. Someone who means very well could give feedback that just doesn’t work for you, and someone who doesn’t give two shits could have spotted that fatal flaw right away. You can bring in a real third party or just make use of the old rubber duck technique, where you talk through the issue with a friend or a Naruto poster telling you to Believe it. Working it out out-loud is a really effective technique to figure out what needs fixing and what doesn’t.

Guide critique-givers toward the feedback you want. I, a person who prefers straightforward fantasy and sci-fi, cannot give the fine-tooth points on how a romance novel should work. However, I can give feedback on what works for me and what doesn’t story-wise. Giving your beta reader or critique partner a list of questions to look for will help avoid vague feedback based on how they don’t like the genre. There are many ways to do this, but consider using the following as a base to tailor your own questions:

Did you get a good sense of the setting? Did the worldbuilding make sense to you?

Was this story clear? Where there any parts that seemed confusing?

What characters did you like and why? What characters didn’t you like?

Did any parts of the story feel slow or repetitive?

Did the beginning draw you in? Did the middle keep you engaged? Did the ending feel satisfying?

If you were to write [insert plot point here], what would you do differently?

Again, all of the above questions are up for debate depending on your goal, but we are rarely taught how to give good feedback, and a guided feedback session would work better for you than a free-for-all.

Figure out what kind of advice doesn’t work for you. It is really hard to give good feedback sometimes, even with guided questions. It can also be really hard to figure out why some feedback doesn’t click with you, and that’s a matter of digging deep to figure out what you really want. You may lean toward characters who are horrible fuck-ups, but your partner prefers more steady characters who always strive to do the right thing. Your characters, therefore, may never click with this person, no matter how much they want to help you. And that’s okay! Figuring out where your critique partner is coming from can help you figure out what parts of their feedback isn’t working for you. Sometimes the only thing you can do is thank them and move on, but you might also want to guide them to focus more on the plot or the worldbuilding when looking at your work.

And last, don’t focus on grammar. It’s great if they point that out, but if you end up changing everything, trying to fix that first is a waste of your time. Grammar tweaks last, plot points first.

And, I dunno, give yourself a treat to get that horrible little mind gremlin something else to focus on. Sometimes patting those bad feelings on the head and sending them away can help way more than ignoring them.

[lacroixqueen]

i can fix him no really i can (18+, dubcon) ex bf deadpool x down bad reader

Summary: your ex boyfriend deadpool shows up at your apartment after many years and he's badly hurt so you need to help him but he also wants to fuck you because he's toxic :/

Pairing: ex bf deadpool x fem!reader with unresolved feelings

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings/Tags: dubcon, making out, flirting, wounded, angsty

It was Friday night, so naturally, it was pouring rain outside. You were already snuggled up in bed with a bowl of popcorn and your favorite movie locked and loaded ready to play. Until you realized exactly what this perfect evening was missing: ice cream. You quickly got up out of bed and moseyed your way into the kitchen.

 

Before you could swipe your favorite gelato from the top shelf, you heard a loud crash emanating from your living room window. You froze in your steps for a moment, and then grabbed the largest kitchen knife you could find in your vicinity. 

Inching your way towards the noise, you were about to swing your weapon at the intruder before a nearby lamp flickered on and you laid eyes on a face you could recognize from a mile away. 

“Holy fuck, put that shit down!” the assassin in all red and black exclaimed, taking the knife out of your hand with ease. 

“Wade?!” you said, placing your hands on your hips. “What the hell are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in what, five years?”

“Great to see you again too, sweetheart,” he replied, noticeably clutching the lower part of his abdomen. “I just thought I’d swing by and say hi.”

“Wade, you are bleeding,” you pointed out, rushing to his side. “What the heck even happened to you?”

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he muttered through gritted teeth, sliding his arm over your shoulder, which immediately caused your back to tense up. “But if you want the short version of the story, let’s just say I pissed off someone who had a giant sword for an arm. Like, he drove that shit through my fucking brain! It’s okay though, I’ll get him back for that one of these days, he’ll see.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed as you guided him to sit down on your couch. “Just.. don’t go anywhere. I’m gonna grab some stuff real quick.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it!” he chuckled playfully. “Also, did you do something new with your hair? I love it. It’s like your old color but just subtly different. Hey, did you like tone it? Was it that salon next door? Because their cut and color deal is to die for.”

“Stop doing that,” you shot back, ambling over to your first aid cabinet. 

“Stop doing what?” he said with a feigned innocence. 

“You know what,” you responded bluntly, pulling out a set of tweezers, gauze, and saline. 

“What, flirt with you?” Deadpool asked, sitting up a little bit more enthusiastically now. “Honey, we’ve been broken up for a long time, do you seriously think I would pick this moment to hit on you? Because you would be sorely mistaken. I am happy to report that I am 100% completely over our relationship and have moved on to bigger better things in life like car sales and snorting cocaine with Blind Al. Oh, she said she misses you by the way.”

“Your timing has never been impeccable,” you commented, kneeling before him with your wound care supplies. Before he could protest, you parted his legs open and rested your forearms on his thighs. This was making him blush harder than he would ever care to admit to you. “Now can you lift your suit up for me, please.”

“We’ve barely caught up for five minutes, and you want me to strip for you already?” Wade chirped, placing a melodramatic hand on his chest. “I mean, I’m all for it but aren’t we moving a little bit fast here?”

“You’re doing it again..” you sighed while shaking your head. “Can you just please not make this more awkward than it already is?”

He grumbled a bit before finally lifting up his suit, revealing a sizable gash slightly to the side of his V-line. There were multiple shards of glass embedded into the wound, glistening menacingly in the dim lighting of your living room. 

“Holy shit, Wade,” you breathed while laying out your instruments. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“Look, maybe I pissed off an intergalactic space fascist or two,” he mumbled while shrugging his shoulders. “But who’s counting? Besides, the next time I get my hands on that freak I’m going to gut him from the inside out and make him eat it. Ooh, that would be satisfying, it’s making me so hard right now.”

“Always the pacifist,” you murmured sarcastically, taking your tweezers and dislodging one of the largest glass shards from his wound. “Have you ever considered, oh I don’t know, volunteering at the soup kitchen? Being a contributing member of your community? It doesn’t always have to be about bashing people’s faces in.”

“Jesus fucking shit on a stick motherfucker! Fuck!” he yelled as you removed the glass piece. “What kind of archaic method was that? At least numb me up first? Or I don’t know, buy me dinner?”

“Oh don’t be such a little bitch. If you wanted anesthetic, you could have just gone to the urgent care across the street,” you said matter-of-factly. “Besides, this isn’t exactly a professional clinic.”

Wade’s breathing became heavier when he noticed your soft tits pressing up against his leg as you focused harder on prying out a stubborn shard of glass. And how your lips curled into an adorable little pout when you were extra concentrated on something. 

“You know, this would be the perfect opportunity to give me head right now,” he said with a smirk under his mask. “Like, you could not be in a better position.”

You tried to ignore his lewd statement, focusing on removing the smaller shards of glass in his wound. You gasped when you felt his leathered hands reach into your hair, gathering the locks between his fingers to form a ponytail. 

“Wade!” you groaned, immediately setting down your tweezers. “I said stop, so quit it.” You shook his hands out of your hair, re-directing your attention back to his injury. 

“Oh, but you always looked so hot doing it!” he reminisced, clasping his hands together like some dazed fangirl. “And you were amazing! Like, took the entire length, it’s like you didn’t even have a gag reflex! I’ve never seen anything like it. Oh, and you always swallowed without me even having to tell you. Do you know how rare of a find that is? Because I haven’t gotten head that good since the day we broke-”

“One more word out of your mouth and I’m literally not going to help you anymore,” you interrupted, staring him dead in the eye, which was quite effective at shutting him up. 

You finally removed the last piece of glass, working a bit more efficiently now that he is not constantly interjecting with his fantasies about you. 

“Aaand, all done!” you said, tucking the debris into a wad of gauze. You cleaned the wound with some saline and covered it with a large bandage. “Yay, that actually wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Well of course, I’m literally a self-healing mutant,” Wade replied, pulling his suit back down to cover his wound. “Someone has literally shot me in the head before, but here I am, still kicking!”

“But it’s not like you can just heal foreign bodies out of yourself,” you countered as you cleaned your bloodstained tweezers with some bleach and a cloth. “You would have been in pain for days if it weren’t for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” he sneered. “But thank you sweetheart, that actually did get me out of a pinch. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a big ugly bad guy to send back to his dimension, and time is money, so I really should get out there before he blows up another building downtown or God forbid beheads a baby or something.”

“Nope, you are going to stay right here,” you established as you closed the lid of your first aid kit. “Because I’m not gonna have you come back here multiple times again throughout the night and me not sleeping at all.” 

“Wow, so now you’re just being a selfish bitch!” Wade said, crossing his arms over your chest. “Did you hear that, innocent bystanders? She could give less of a fuck if the world was set ablaze the next morning because I wasn’t there to stop it!”

“Oh, the world will be just fine,” you stated. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go to bed and you are going to sleep on the couch-”

As you got up, your stance wobbled a bit and you found yourself collapsing face forward onto Wade’s lap, your lips just barely brushing against his mask. You grasped onto his shoulders out of instinct, steadying yourself. 

“Ohhh I see what you’re doing here!” the assassin called out. “You want me to stay so badly because you are just a horny little slut who can’t get enough of me! Well that’s no problem at all, because I am actually completely open and willing to do this, just know that my hard lines are scat, vomit, and furry. I don’t know why I can’t get into those animal costume things by the way, just something about the eyes..”

“I don’t want to sleep with you tonight, Wade Wilson,” you said, enunciating every single word. “I just.. lost balance.”

“Uh huh, ‘lost balance’,” he repeated, making air quotes with his fingers, his gaze not wavering. “Well if that’s the case, why don’t you kiss me and not do anything else? Since you’re so certain.”

“I’m not kissing you either,” you snapped, gasping a bit as you felt his hands slide over the curve of your waist, tugging gently at the fabric of your cami. 

“You’re just saying that because you know if you did you wouldn’t be able to resist doing more,” he accused, voice darkening all of a sudden. He lifted up his mask to reveal just his lips. “So kiss me, Y/N. Since you’re sooo not attracted to me like that anymore.”

You sighed a bit as you felt the tips of his lips brush against yours, his hot breath entering your mouth, almost inviting you to lean in closer. You also realized you were never one to back down from a challenge. You went ahead and wrapped your arms around his neck, rolling your hips into his. You tilted your head slightly to the side, allowing a couple strands of hair to fall down your face. 

So you kissed him, your soft pouty lips blending seamlessly with his bruised, callused mouth. He was hungry, voracious for you even, wanting you so desperately as he pushed his tongue into you. And you allowed him to. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer towards his body as you kissed him back. Your tongue twirled against his, a little whine escaping from your lips as he broke the kiss momentarily to catch his breath. 

He grasped one of your bloodstained fingers, and sucked his own blood off of them, licking his lips mischievously after.

“W-wait, Wade, stop..” you gasped, leaning back a bit once you felt his hand sneak over your taut stomach and grasp your neck firmly. “I-I can’t do this.”

“Aw, but we were getting so into it babydoll,” Wade whined, his grip tightening a bit around your neck before finally releasing you. “What happened? Are you getting cold feet because you remembered I’m so good at it?”

“No, it’s just I can’t catch feelings for you again,” you admitted, unclasping your hands from over his shoulders. “I don’t like it when I get like this with you.”

You stood up from the couch and turned your back to him, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Ugggghhhh you always get so dramatic like this,” he said, standing up to follow right behind you. “I promise you it’s not that serious. Think of it like this: just two people fooling around and then calling it a night. We don’t have to get into all that messy bullshit from the past if you don’t want to. We could just.. What’s the word my therapist says all the time.. Oh! Compartmentalize. Yeahhh that’s it. You know, you get really good at shit like that when you watch multiple people you care about die in front of you, it’s pretty great.”

“But it’s not that simple Wade, I can’t just..” you sighed as he wrapped his arms over your torso, pressing his chest tightly against your back. He slightly lifted up the bottom of your cami, playing with the top of your panties that peaked out of your shorts. “Please.. don’t do this to me.”

“What, this?” he asked before sliding his tongue over your exposed neck, still playing with the top of your lacy panties and twisting the little bows around his fingertips. “Love these by the way, are they new?”

“St-stop..” you stammered, breath quickening as he rolled up your tank top to eventually reveal your delicate bralette, which accentuated your cleavage perfectly. You felt his hot breath splash against your shoulder as he panted at the sight of your body gradually revealing itself to him. 

“Wow, you look even better than I remember!” he commented, playing with the little ribbon in the center of your bra. He used the palm of his gloved hand to rub aching, undulating circles over your toned stomach. “Have you been working out? And by the way, love the statement piece, it goes really well with what you have under too! Ugh, I love when you wear a matching set for me, which reminds me, remember that gorgeous lingerie you had on that one Valentine’s day? I still can’t get it out of my head! Oooh, do you still have it? Because if so I would love to uh, borrow it for a few days if you don’t mind?”

You broke away from him, stepping towards your bedroom door, back still faced to him. “I have to go to sleep now,” you said, trying to conceal how flushed your cheeks were getting in the dim lighting. “You can use the sofa but please be gone by morning.”

You twisted the handle to enter your bedroom and slammed the door behind you. You pressed your back against the cold wood, trying to regulate your breathing by counting numbers and steadying yourself by grasping your dresser while the room spun. 

“Welp, at least I tried,” you overheard Wade mutter nonchalantly. He stepped over to your living room window, unclasped the locks, and disappeared out into the night. Like it was just another pit stop in the evening for him. 

Eventually, you found yourself back in bed, staring at the ceiling as your heart continued to pound against your chest. You tossed and turned the entire time, wide awake, until eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore and had to find some relief. 

So you regrettably, masturbated to the thought of him, legs shaking underneath your sheets while you clasped your hand over your mouth. This was something you did way more often than you care to admit. And only then was sleep able to reward you. 

[dc418writes]

Welcomed Distraction

Summary🪄: Both you and Frankie need comforting after a tough day

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS, happy adult fun times (be safe out there!), breeding kink, unprotected p-in-v, language, unclothed female-semi clothed male, mention of pregnancy/trying for baby

A/N🎤: Hello🌸 long time no see (*ahem sorry🥴) lol. So firstly, this is my very first Pedro boy fic and I’m v nervous (then again when am I not 🙃). Also, this is my submission for the #hotdilfsummerchallenge by @hellishjoel and I’m hoping you guys enjoy what I came up with, as well as read the other works (or even submit something yourself!✨)

*DISCLAIMER(S)!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they all were found via Pinterest. Although my works are typically imagined with a black!reader, everyone is welcome to read*

At the sound of your sigh as you locked the door behind you, Frankie knew what kind of day you had. Not to mention the way you took off your shoes.

If you gently toed them off next to the others, taking your sweet time, you were exhausted and would more than likely crash on the couch once you eventually sat down. Left them scattered making your own little trail from the door? You were excited about something. He was man enough to admit that although he knew you were very happy to see him, - flashing your bright smile before pecking his lips and updating him on what your day entailed - that excitement was mostly for his son. “How was your day huh?,” you’d ask the adorable eight month old making him giggle from all the kisses you’d leave on his juicy cheeks. “I missed you!”

When you’d kick off your shoes though, not caring when they’d knock against the wall - like you did tonight - you were pissed. And Frankie just hoped it wasn’t something he’d done or forgotten to do.

“Everything alright?,” he asks over his shoulder while he mutes the football game currently on tv.

“I secretly hope that place burns down overnight so I won’t have to step foot in it ever again.”

“So no,” Frankie states as you finally make it to the couch with a beer in hand. A much needed smile curls along your lips - and in turn loosens a bit of the tension still plaguing you from earlier - noticing the boxes of takeout from your favorite restaurant on the coffee table in front of him. Before you can say anything, his strong hands are gripping your hips guiding you towards his lap. Both sets of your lips automatically being drawn towards each other as you settle in your favorite seat.

Well second favorite.

“Francisco Morales I’d marry you right now if I could.” He only chuckles leaving a chaste kiss on your temple.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Well, first it started with a couple calls from patients upset they needed to be seen before getting a refill. Like I’m sorry you haven’t shown up for your appointments in two years!” A grin spreads on his pink lips as he gently shakes his head of envy inducing chocolate curls.

“Then for a while now I’ve been getting calls when the phones are supposed to be on downtime. It’s also happened to the lady that sits next to me a couple times, so she decides to say something. My manager just says ‘well if you’ve given your extension out or if it’s transferred to you, then the phone’s gonna ring’.”

“But if the phones are down in the first place, either way that shouldn’t happen,” your boyfriend finishes practically reading your mind.

“Exactly! But nooo it has to be something I’m doing, it can’t be the shitty phone system.” Frankie knows you’re angry - and reasonably so- but he can’t help the way his stomach flutters at your cute little groan. How he wants to kiss that pout away until you can’t remember why you were mad in the first place. “Maybe he’ll listen to you since you have a penis.”

“Just tell me when and I’m there baby,” he murmurs against your neck trailing kisses from your pulse to your jaw. His mustache prickling your skin and making you softly giggle.

Even if you didn’t say, you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a little visit to the clinic within the coming week. Standard manners and gentle smile to everyone else as if he was just innocently coming by to see his girl when you both knew he was liable to strangle the slender, uptight man once he set his eyes on him at the mere mention of making you upset.

“Then, as the cherry on top, the last call I get today is this guy getting mad at me because his results aren’t ready, which I have no control over since I don’t work with that doctor,” you explain taking a quick pull from the sweating bottle in your hand. “I keep trying to tell him there’s nothing I can really do, but then he has the audacity to say ‘You’re not understanding me. I need this for another appointment and now I’m not sure if I’ll make it!’ Sir I understand fine; don’t insult my intelligence. Still won’t get you your results sooner.”

The stranger’s words and harsh tone repeats in your mind only making you upset all over again. And not only could Frankie see it, but he could feel the effect such a short interaction had on you. Your back practically going rigid with tightness and prompting him to rub soothing circles over your shirt trying to relax the muscles there. That vein near the pulse in your neck on full display as if standing in solidarity with you.

A stream of frustrated air leaves your nostrils trying to remind yourself that everything was in the past now. How tomorrow would be a new day with, hopefully, little to no rude patients. “Sorry, I know that’s probably my ego talking-,”

“Still doesn’t give him, or anybody else, the right to talk to you like that.” So two men he now needed to hunt down. No problem. “I’m sorry you had a rough day.”

You simply shrug - your attempt to brush it off feeling like you need to be strong and just forget - as his lips softly press against your temple. “Comes with the territory. How was your day though? Hopefully better than mine.”

“It was alright. Elaine came by with ‘hot shot’ to get Isaiah.” Hot shot being her new fiancé that was some fancy lawyer based out of Los Angeles. They met a few months after she broke up with Frankie and got engaged not long after.

“And how did that go?”

Now was Frankie’s turn to shrug taking the offered beer from your hand to get a pull. “Fine. Said hello, made sure she had everything, then left a few minutes later. Short and sweet.”

Although they’ve had this arrangement since baby Isaiah was just a couple months old, it always hurt Frankie having to let his son go. The apartment was uncomfortably quieter without the little babbles and gurgles, and no longer felt like home. Given he’d see him again next week, but he’d began to worry if his ex would move away now she was engaged. Wanting to start fresh with the ‘man of her dreams’ and start their own family.

And if that happened, who knows when he’d see his son again.

The thought’s kept him up plenty of nights unknown to you, but his solemn mood is easily read looking into his brown eyes. Your palm caresses his cheek bringing his attention back to you on his lap. Thumb softly tracing over the worry line between his brows before leaning in to tap your nose against his. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

Your boyfriend just nods flashing a glimpse of a soft smile. A quiet, “I know,” falling from his lips after pecking your full, bottom one.

“If it’d make you feel better, I’ll give you one.”

Any time you said that in the past, he’d just chuckle and shake his head. Maybe even click his tongue before he’d reply with, “let’s focus on this one for now.” It’s not that you were trying to give him a replacement kid, you just hated to see him sad. And similar to how Frankie was willing to do anything for you, you were easily as smitten for the former military pilot.

His larger hands - slightly rough from years of work - grip your hips gently moving you so your thighs now straddle his hips. A glint in his darkening eyes that surprises you, but also has a familiar sensation building between your legs. “You mean it?”

The husky way he whispers near your mouth has an embarrassing moan slipping past your lips that even catches you off guard. A wet patch growing in your panties already as you nod nearly dumb just from his voice alone.

His lips crash into yours rhythmically moving together as if one was complimenting the other. Your fingers tangle in his silky strands while his tongue glides over yours and hands knead at your lower cheeks. You can’t help but grind and shift trying to find some sort of friction as your core throbs incessantly.

“Frankie please,” you pant. His mouth descends to your heated neck nipping at your skin while his hand moves to toy with your achy nipple through your top.

“Have to tell me what you want baby.” He sounds nearly gone himself - hardness poking you through his jeans - but he chooses to tease instead. Any other time you might play back with a smart reply, maybe a little edging, but tonight your need is too strong and mind too hazy with lust and the man beneath you for games.

“N-Need you in me..now Frankie.”

A deep groan vibrates in his chest when you bump against the now prominent bulge becoming painful from the quick rush of blood. “Can’t say no to that now can I?”

In a flurry of movements, Frankie’s removing your scrubs and underwear between deep, hurried kisses, and soon you’re bare; quickly unlatching his buckle to remove his stiff and reddened member leaking and more than ready for you. The mess between your thighs makes it easy to slide down, taking him inch by inch until you’re both connected and moaning from the tightness.

“Fuck don’t think I’ll last,” Frankie grits shifting to taste one breast while his hand plucks and squeezes the other making you whimper. “Feels so good baby.”

Adjusted enough, your hips begin to move and bounce filling the living room with slaps of skin and moans. You try to contain yourself - worried about being that couple - but when Frankie plants his feet on the plush carpet below bucking up into you so hard you have to grab the armrest while your other hand grabs his broad shoulder, you can’t control what leaves your mouth.

“Wanna give me a baby huh? Want me to fill you up?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Want everybody to know you’re mine?” His grip on you is sure to leave bruises in the morning. “That I’m the only one that makes you feel this good?”

“Yes!” The faster you both move, you can see and feel stars. Feel hundreds, maybe thousands, of them tickle and prick your skin that have you believing you have to be experiencing something other worldly. Your spirit ascending to some sort of nirvana that you’d never want to come down from.

“Shit - might have to just keep you on my cock. You like that idea?,” he grins biting at your earlobe.

You frantically nod. “D-Don’t stop, please baby! Mm there..Frankie..Frankie!”

Gripping the back of your neck bringing you as close as he can, Frankie buries his face in your neck letting your noises and babbling spur him on. You’re both painfully close - panting and sticky with sweat - just needing that extra push only you could give each other.

“Shit, feel you squeezin’ me. Cmon let go I got you.” Shifting to the edge of the couch, he angles just right where your swollen nub gets the nudge and pressure that has your back arching and toes curling. You feel teeth and curses growled against your neck along with the spurts of his release inside you as his pumps become staggered and slower.

All that can be heard now is you both catching your breaths and holding onto each other as if afraid to somehow float away from the post orgasmic high.

“You okay? Still with me?,” Frankie asks tracing his thick fingers up and down your spine. You merely hum in response making the man you love chuckle. His pride loved how sleepy and clingy you got in the midst of your afterglow.

“Alright let’s get you cleaned up.”

His strong arms easily keep you attached to his sturdy chest as he stands ready to take you to the bathroom. Your nose automatically nuzzling and running along the side of his neck loving the smell of his cologne mixed with his sweat. “Wait!”

He halts just before stepping into the hall. “What’s wrong?”

“The food,” you sleepily reply making him grin kissing your shoulder.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“M’kay,” you yawn comfortably closing your eyes as you’re gently rocked from him beginning to move again. “Have a baby.”

He knew it wouldn’t happen that quickly, especially with you still actively on birth control, but the thought of you carrying his child had a warmth spreading along his bones. He could vividly see you with a hand on your extended belly smiling and glowing like the sweetest angel. Isaiah would nearly be two, but walking around keeping a close eye on his sibling.

Did it also make Frankie nervous? Of course, but he couldn’t lie that his excitement of seeing a bright eyed bundle that looked exactly like you outweighed the fear.

“Yea, we’re having a baby.”

-

Loosely inspired by the rough day I had at work some time ago🥲 lol. But again I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know if I missed any warnings!

[redroomreflections]

Hey, open this 😄

*Natasha is having one of her monthly training sessions with R where they brush up on the things she wants R to know. It starts off innocently. They’re in the garage and the kids are occupied elsewhere. Natasha is helping R stretch and they flirt here and there. *

Natasha had planned the training session like any other—focused, purposeful, and meant to keep you sharp. You started in the garage, where the space was wide open, with the kids finishing up homework or elsewhere. Natasha always insisted on starting with stretches, knowing how important flexibility was, but also enjoying the close proximity it allowed. Really you think she just liked the opportunity to touch you. Not that she needed an excuse.

As you leaned forward in a stretch, Natasha's hands gently guided your further, her hand on the small of your back, and her voice soft with encouragement. “You’re getting better at this, you know?” Natasha remarked, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

You responded with a grin, “Well, I have the best teacher.” You couldn’t help but flirt back, especially with Natasha being so close.

Natasha laughed quietly, a sound that always made your heart flutter. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she teased, leaning down to adjust your form. The warmth of her touch sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. You let out a light groan at the stretch.

After the stretching, Natasha moved the session into self-defense drills, her focus sharp but her eyes still holding that playful glint. You followed her lead, throwing punches and blocking as she directed, her movements fluid and precise. As always, Natasha was an expert at this—swift, strong, and completely in control.

She circled you, her eyes assessing every move you made, correcting your stance when needed, and offering pointers in that low, confident tone that always made your heart skip a beat.

“Remember, keep your elbows in,” Natasha instructed as she stepped closer, her hands gently guiding your arms into the right position.”That’s good baby.”

You nodded, trying to focus on the task at hand, but Natasha’s presence was a distraction in the best way. You threw a punch, but she easily deflected it, spinning you around until she had you pinned against the mat. Her body pressed against yours, one arm securing both of your wrists above your head, and the other bracing against your shoulder. Instinctively, your wrap your thighs around her hips.

Natasha’s breath was warm against your cheek, her lips so close that you could almost feel them. “You’ve got to stay focused,” she murmured, her tone teasing, though her grip on you was firm.

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips as you looked up at her. “It’s been a while,” you said, your voice a mix of challenge and playfulness.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Since I pinned you? Or since you’ve been this close to me?” she asked, her tone teasing, but with a hint of something deeper.

You tilted your head slightly, meeting her gaze with a mischievous look in your eye. “Maybe both.”

Natasha let out a soft chuckle, her hold on you loosening slightly but still keeping you in place. “Well, let’s see if you remember how to get out of this,” she whispered, her voice low, almost daring you.

You couldn’t resist the challenge, and with a quick move, you shifted your weight, managing to twist out from under her and reversing the positions. Now it was you who had Natasha pinned, though your faces were still mere inches apart. Her surprised but impressed expression made you grin.

“Guess I remember more than you thought,” you teased, your voice light but filled with satisfaction.

Natasha’s eyes shone with pride and something else, something that made your heart race. “I’m impressed,” she admitted, her voice softening. “But maybe I let you win.”

You shook your head slightly, still smiling. “Maybe you did. Or maybe you just like being under me.”

Natasha’s laugh was low and throaty, and before you knew it, she had flipped the positions again, her speed and skill still far beyond your own. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Maybe I do.”

Natasha’s smirk deepened as she hovered above you, her breath warm against your skin. You couldn’t help but get lost in the way she looked at you—those piercing green eyes, the subtle curve of her lips, the way her auburn hair framed her face perfectly. She was mesmerizing, and you found it hard to focus on anything else.

Your gaze trailed down from her eyes to her lips, lingering there as you remembered the way they felt against yours, soft but commanding, making you forget everything else. You couldn’t help but trail down to her glistening abs and cleavage on full display above you. Natasha noticed, of course, her smirk turning into a knowing grin.

“See something you like?” she teased, her voice laced with amusement as she caught you staring.

You let out a breathy laugh and let your eyes continue their journey, taking in the way her muscles subtly shifted under her tight training gear, the way every movement was so graceful, so deliberate. “I’m just appreciating the view,” you replied, your tone half-joking, half-serious.

Natasha tilted her head slightly, as if she was considering something. “You’re supposed to be focusing on the training,” she chided gently, though her tone held no real reprimand.

But you were far too captivated to care about training at this point. “I am focused,” you argued lightly, eyes now trailing down to her collarbone, where the skin was just exposed enough to make you wonder what it would feel like under your lips. “Just... maybe not on the fighting.”

Natasha’s gaze softened a little, her teasing giving way to something more tender. She leaned in closer, her lips almost brushing yours. “You know, you’re going to have to stop ogling me if you want to keep up,” she whispered, though the heat in her eyes suggested she wasn’t exactly in a hurry to make you stop.

You bit your lip, your hands instinctively sliding up her arms, feeling the strength in them as you did. “Why would I ever want to stop?” you murmured, eyes finally meeting hers again.

Natasha laughed softly, a sound that sent a thrill through you. “You’re impossible,” she said, though her expression was full of affection. She stayed there for a moment longer, letting you drink in the sight of her, before finally pulling back, giving you just enough space to breathe but not enough to stop you from wanting more.

As she moved back, you couldn’t help but follow her with your eyes, admiring the way she moved—so fluid, so confident. “You know,” you started, your voice a bit breathless, “I think you like being ogled.”

As Natasha stood back to reset the drill, you couldn’t resist taking a moment to appreciate how she moved, the fluidity of her motions, the way every part of her seemed perfectly in sync. Even though the focus was supposed to be on the training, your thoughts kept drifting to her—how stunning she looked, how close she was, and how much you wanted to keep that closeness.

The drill started again, and as you moved through the steps, you found yourself taking every chance to touch her, even if just briefly. When you blocked one of her punches, your fingers lingered just a bit longer than necessary on her wrist, feeling the pulse beneath her skin. Natasha noticed, of course, but didn’t say anything, her smirk widening as if she was in on your little game.

When she demonstrated a move, positioning your hands and feet, you let your hands brush against her hips as you adjusted your stance, enjoying the brief contact. Natasha’s eyes flicked up to yours, a knowing look passing between you, but she continued as if nothing had happened.

As you moved into a defensive stance, Natasha circled you, instructing you on your form. When she was close enough, you couldn’t resist the urge to reach out, lightly grazing her arm as you pretended to correct your balance. When she grappled you, you somehow maneuvered yourself so that your ass was pressed against her pelvis. You could feel the firmness of her muscles against your bare skin. You could only hope you would make it through this session. Natasha paused, raising an eyebrow at you, her lips twitching as if she was holding back a laugh.

“You’re supposed to be learning how to defend yourself,” she said, though her tone was more amused than admonishing.

“I am,” you reply, your voice innocent but your eyes betraying your intentions. “But I figure staying close to you is a good strategy too.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but the fondness in her expression was unmistakable. “Is that what you think?” she asked, her voice dropping slightly, making your heart skip a beat.

You nodded, stepping closer under the guise of adjusting your position again, letting your hand briefly brush against her side. “Absolutely.”

Natasha shook her head, her smile finally breaking through. “You’re incorrigible,” she muttered, though there was no real annoyance in her tone.

When she moved to pin you again, you took the opportunity to let your hands slide along her arms, feeling the strength in them before she had you flat on your back. This time, Natasha didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, she leaned in, her face inches from yours, her eyes holding yours captive.

“Distracted?” she asked, her voice low, and though the question was playful, there was a challenge in her eyes.

You smiled up at her, your hands resting lightly on her shoulders, taking in every detail of her face, the way her breath fanned across your skin. “Maybe,” you admitted, your voice soft but full of affection. “But can you blame me?”

Natasha held your gaze for a moment longer, then let out a soft sigh, releasing you from the pin. “You’re lucky I like you,” she said.

“Only like?” You questioned.

Natasha paused at your question, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “Only like?” you repeated, your voice playful, though there was a hint of something more beneath the teasing.

Her eyes softened, and she leaned in just a little closer, her breath warm against your skin. “You know it’s more than that,” she whispered, her tone gentle but firm, like she was sharing a secret meant only for you.

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, the intensity in her gaze making it hard to focus on anything else. “I know,” you murmured, your fingers brushing lightly against her shoulders, tracing the lines of her muscles. “But I like hearing it.”

Natasha chuckled softly, her thumb grazing your cheek in a tender gesture. “Greedy,” she teased, though her voice was filled with affection.

“Only when it comes to you,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha’s expression softened even more, her eyes filled with a warmth that made your heart swell. She leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes again. “Then I guess I’ll just have to remind you how much more it is,” she said, her voice low and full of promise.

“I want you to fuck me, Nat,” You wiggle your hips against her

“We can’t,” She breathed.

“It’s been weeks for us,” You remind her.

“I know,” She hummed as her lips ghosted over your neck.

“You can’t just ask me in here and not expect me to get horny,” Your breathe catches in your throat.

“I know,” Natasha nods. Her hands run along your body, stopping at your hips to keep you from moving. “I know you want me inside of you. Touching you. Fucking you. I bet if I feel right now you’re wet?” She emphasizes her point with the subtle movement of her knee. You are putty in her hands as you bare down. God it feels so good. Suddenly, she pulls away and is back standing on her feet.

“Nat?” You sit up against the mat.

“Hopefully this time you won’t pull your punches,” Natasha smirks. “Use your frustration as motivation.”

“I don’t like you right now,” You grumble. “I hope you know I’m sticky and wet and will be showering alone.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Natasha calls after you.

“Mhmm, you know what, maybe I should shower and make you watch,” You pretend to mull it over.

“You know I can’t do that,” Natasha doesn’t want to think of the idea of not being able to touch you.

“Well, consider us even.” You wave to her before racing to the bedroom.

[mapiforpresident]

can you please write prompt 20 alexia putellas?

Please Don't Leave Me

Alexia x reader

warnings: angst, car crash

Summary: you get into a car accident with your sister Ingrid.

I just want to say that I have zero medical knowledge so a lot of this is probably inaccurate.

~~~

Alexia had just got done with the last drill of the day and was walking towards the locker room laughing with Lucy about something Narla had did the other day. When she stepped into the locker room though, she immediately knew something was wrong.

Mapi was standing by her cubby shock on her face and her phone shattered at her feet.

"Mapi, maps, hey what happened," Alexia said as she went over and pulled her best friend into a tight hug. Mapi immediately started sobbing into her shoulder.

"Ing... Ingrid..." Mapi let out between choked sobs. Alexia's heart sank and she too started to spiral. If something had happened to Ingrid, then something must have also happened to you. The two of you had left practice just thirty minutes ago because you were invited to talk at a charity event across town and Ingrid had been given permission by Jona to go with you as support.

"Mapi, what happend to Ingrid," Lucy asked since she knew Alexia would not be able to get the words out. At this point the whole team was dead silent in the locker room, but most of them kept back to give the women space. Lucy, being the caring person she was though, decided to take charge of the situation and try to help her teammates in whatever capacity she could.

"Crash... she ... car crash." Those were the only words Alexia heard before she fully broke down, hand covering her mouth trying to muffle the sobs. If Mapi was full on hyperventilating right now that means the doctors news was not good at all and that the crash was very very serious.

"Ok, ok lets get to the hospital and we will find out all the information when we get there ok," Lucy said as she started to guide Mapi out of the locker room and towards her car. Ona walked with Alexia. Lucy guided Mapi and Alexia into the backseat as Ona got in the drivers seat of the Cupra.

~~~

The drive only took ten minutes, but it felt like a lifetime for Alexia. As soon as Ona had pulled into a parking spot, Alexia and Mapi were sprinting into the hospital

"Y/n and Ingrid Engen. They were in a car crash, are they ok, can we see them ..." Alexia rushed out to the receptionist at the ER desk.

"Ma'am slow down please, you said Engen?" Mapi and Alexia both frantically nodded.

"Ok let's see. It says here that Ingrid Engen and Y/n Engen were admitted thirty minutes ago after a car crash. Let me go get the doctor and she will update you whenever she can ok. Why don't you both go take a seat and she should be with you shortly."

"No I need to know if she is ok, can you please just tell me anything," Alexia begged the nurse as Lucy and Ona now entered. Mapi was just standing there not really knowing what to say or do.

"Let's go sit down right over here ok. The doctor will come and talk to us in a minute," Lucy said as she guided Alexia to sit down in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. Ona did the same with Mapi.

Twenty slow minutes passed before the doctor finally walked out with a clipboard. "Family of y/n and Ingrid Engen."

Mapi and Alexia burst out of their seats and approached the doctor.

"How are they. Are they ok. What happened?" Alexia asked frantically.

"They were in a pretty bad crash. The were hit by a drunk driver head on going the wrong way down the road. Y/n got the brunt of the hit."

At this Alexia broke out into a new sob as Mapi wrapped her arms around her.

"They are both alive, but Y/n was in critical condition but currently stable. She suffered severe head trauma and a brain bleed as well as four broken ribs, a fractured collar bone, a fractured pelvic bone and a large gash on the left side of her face that needed stitches. We currently have her placed under a medically induced coma to try and help her body and swelling go down before we operate on her tomorrow. Ingrid on the other hand is awake and alert. She suffered a minor concussion, a broken wrist and elbow on her right arm and some bruising on her abdomen. She is in room 372 if you would like to go visit her. Y/n is in room 373 and you can see her if you want during today's visiting hours, but I would like to advise you that she has many tubes connected to her and she is going to look very different. If you have any questions I will be in to check on them both in thirty minutes ok."

After the doctor walked away, Mapi asked "Do you want to go see y/n, or do you want to stop and visit Ingrid first?"

"I... I want to see y/n. I need to see her." Alexia finally took a step out of Mapi's embrace and took a couple deep breaths. You were stable. You weren't gone.

"Ok, I'll be in Ingrid's room if you need anything ok." With that they both walked to their respective wives hospital rooms.

~~~

Alexia had never seen you look so small and so unlike you. You were normally loud and outgoing and the life the party. Now you were laying in the hospital bed not even able to breath on your own. There were so many wires and tubes and an IV. She didn't even know where to look.

She slowly walked over to the chair next to the bed and sat down. She very gently took your fragile hand in her own. She kissed it softly before breaking down again. Ale leaned her head against the edge of the bed and sobbed until she had no more tears. She sat there for over an hour crying and clingy to your hand before she decided to speak.

"Amor please, please come back to me, I can't lose you. I... I haven't told anybody this yet. I was going to tell you tonight. I had it all planned out. I...it worked amor... I'm pregnant... we are going to be moms. I took the test this morning while you were still sleeping. I can't wait to become parents together. You need to pull through for me y/n, I can't do this without you. I love you. I love you so much."

Little did Alexia know that you could hear her entire speech. This immediately sparked your heart rate because of the news she told you. Alexia heard loud beeping fill the room as the heart rate monitor started becoming more rapid. The doctor and nurses immediately rushed into the room as one of the led Alexia out of the room. Alexia felt like she couldn't breath. She couldn't move, she couldn't think.

"I'm really sorry ma'am" Was all she heard the doctor say a couple minutes later as she stepped out of the room before all she heard was ringing in her ears and her heart completely shatter.

[pucksandpower]

hi love!! i’m not sure if you’re talking requests so completely ignore this if you’re not but, i’m in love with your grid kids series and i was wondering if you could do something with the grid kids that goes more into readers line of work?🫶🏼

Grid Kids: She Means Business

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: your career as a renowned sports psychologist means you often work with your husband and grid kids

Series Masterlist

Sebastian Vettel: Meet Cute

Red Bull Racing’s pit wall is a hive of activity during the practice session for the Monaco Grand Prix. Engineers, strategists, and everyone in between are glued to their screens, analyzing data and communicating with the drivers.

You’re there in an official capacity, hired by Red Bull Racing to conduct a series of workshops to help the team, particularly the drivers, cope with the mental pressures of racing. With a headset on, you’re mostly observing, making notes on communication dynamics, when suddenly a voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

You look up, slightly startled, to see none other than Sebastian Vettel, the team’s star driver, smiling down at you. His mop of hair sweaty and slightly tousled from the helmet he just took off after finishing up with FP2, the impish twinkle in his eyes making you feel … something.

“Oh, no. Not at all. I was just ...” you stammer, suddenly feeling a bit out of your element.

Sebastian sits down next to you, leaning in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, I think I’m here to see what the mysterious new hire is up to.”

You chuckle, “Well, if you must know, I’m observing team dynamics, communication patterns ... very thrilling stuff.”

He feigns a gasp, “So you’re spying on us?”

“In the most professional way possible,” you reply with a smirk.

Sebastian laughs, the sound genuine and contagious. “Well, I hope we’re giving you some good material.”

You lean in this time, matching his playful tone, “You? Always.”

There’s a brief pause, a moment of charged silence, before Sebastian grins, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You smile back, “You should.”

The two of you chat easily, talking about the intricacies of the sport and the importance of mental preparedness.

As the session winds down and Mark Webber also makes his way back into the garage, Sebastian looks over at you, “You know, for someone who’s here to observe, you’re quite the distraction.”

Your cheeks warm, “Is that so?”

He nods, mock serious, “Absolutely. It’s a problem. I think we might need a one-on-one session to discuss it further.”

You laugh, “I’ll have to check my schedule but I’m sure we can arrange something.”

Sebastian winks, “Looking forward to it,” and with that he’s off to debrief with his engineers.

As you remove your headset, you can’t help but smile to yourself. This job assignment just got a lot more interesting.

Max Verstappen: Unloading the Past

Ten years later, the Red Bull Racing hospitality suite is buzzing with activity: the clink of glasses, murmurs of conversation, and the distant roar of engines echoing from the track. But in a quiet corner, there’s a space that feels a world apart.

Soft, ambient lighting casts a serene glow, a few comfortable chairs are arranged in a circle, and on the coffee table lies an assortment of fidget tools, from stress balls to sensory mats. This is your corner, specially designed for individual sessions.

Max Verstappen hesitates at the entrance. His eyes dart around, taking in the unfamiliar setting. It’s clear that beneath that façade of unshakable confidence lies vulnerability.

You rise, offering a comforting smile. “Hey, Max. Ready?”

He gives a tentative nod, following you in. “I’m not ... I’m not sure how to do this,” he admits, voice barely audible.

“That’s okay,” you assure him, guiding him to a chair. “There’s no right or wrong way. Just start wherever you feel comfortable.”

Taking a deep breath, Max begins, his words tumbling out, “It’s just ... sometimes, when I’m out there on the track, I feel like that kid again.” His voice cracks and he pauses, searching for the right words. “The kid who always felt he wasn’t good enough no matter how hard I tried.”

You nod, encouraging him to continue, “Tell me about that kid.”

As Max delves into memories of his childhood, stories of relentless training sessions, the weight of expectations, and the struggle to fit in, you listen. Every word, every pause, every shift in his tone paints a picture of a boy who was thrust into the world of racing at a young age, grappling with the colossal pressure to prove himself.

You gently prod, asking him to revisit specific incidents, encouraging him to express his feelings, and offering insights when necessary.

As the session progresses, Max’s demeanor changes. His initial hesitation gives way to openness, vulnerability transforms into strength, and slowly, the pieces start falling into place.

“You know,” you say softly, “It’s natural to carry the scars of our past with us but it’s important to remember they don’t define us.”

Max looks up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, “But how do I move past it?”

You want so badly to reach out and hug him — this young man who you consider a son in all but blood — but hold yourself back. You’re both here for work and, right now, Max needs you as a professional and not a mom.

“By acknowledging it, understanding it, and then channeling it. Every time you get in the car, it’s an opportunity to rewrite that narrative. Not for anyone else but for yourself.”

Max takes a moment, absorbing your words. “Thank you,” he murmurs, a weight visibly lifted off his shoulders.

You give him a reassuring smile. “Anytime, Max. Remember, you’re not alone in this journey. Oh, and remember, we’re all meeting at that little Italian place Charles recommended for dinner.”

There’s a lightness in Max’s voice that wasn’t there before, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Charles Leclerc: Bittersweet Memories

The setting sun casts a somber glow across the paddock at Suzuka Circuit. It’s a track rich with history, triumphs, and heartbreaks. For Charles Leclerc, it’s where he lost Jules Bianchi, his godfather, mentor, and friend.

You find Charles seated alone in a quiet part of the Ferrari motorhome, gazing out the window. The overflowing sadness in his eyes nearly makes you stop in your tracks.

“Hey,” you greet gently, not wanting to startle him. “Mind if I join you?”

He offers a small nod, his gaze still distant.

Sitting down next to him, you allow a comfortable silence to settle, giving him the space to open up when he’s ready. Moments pass before Charles finally speaks, his voice tinged with melancholy.

“Every time I come here,” he starts, “it feels like I’m reliving that day. The memories, the pain, it all just floods back.”

You nod, understandingly, “Grief has a way of doing that, especially when tied to such a tangible reminder.”

Charles looks down, fiddling with his bracelet. “It’s hard, you know? Racing on the same track where I lost him. Every corner, every turn, it’s like he’s there with me.”

Taking a deep breath, you offer, “Maybe that’s a way for you to connect with Jules. To honor his memory, to carry his spirit with you every lap you drive.”

Charles’ eyes shimmer with tears. “I want to make him proud, to show that everything he taught me wasn’t in vain. But sometimes, the weight of it all just becomes too much.”

You reach out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. Grief isn’t linear. There will be days when it hits harder, especially in places like this. You just have to remember it’s not about racing against the pain but learning that it’s okay to race with it.”

He meets your gaze, searching for strength, “How do I do that?”

“By allowing yourself to feel, by acknowledging the pain, and by channeling it into your drive. Jules might not be here physically but he’s with you in spirit. And every time you get behind that wheel is another opportunity to show that.”

Charles takes a deep breath, absorbing your words. “Thank you,” he murmurs, a glimmer of determination returning to his eyes.

You give him a comforting smile. “I’m glad I could help, even if it’s just a little. We’re all here for you every step of the way.”

Lance Stroll: Nepo Babies Have Feelings Too

Inside the Aston Martin team lounge, screens show replays of the latest race, commentators discussing various drivers’ performance. One topic that often comes up is Lance Stroll. The chatter revolves around his father’s ownership of the team and whether Lance truly earned his seat or if he’s just a product of nepotism.

You notice Lance sitting a bit apart from the rest, headphones on but his face is a giveaway. The furrowed brows, the downward curve of his lips —he’s clearly overheard the unsubtle whispers.

You make your way over, gesturing to ask if he’d like some company. He nods, removing his headphones.

“Those comments,” you begin gently, “they don’t define you.”

Lance sighs, his frustration palpable. “It’s just ... no matter what I do, how hard I work, how much I improve, it always comes back to the same thing. That I’m only here because of my father.”

You nod, understanding the weight of such judgments. “It’s tough, Lance. But remember, others’ opinions of you are just that — opinions. They aren’t the truth and they most definitely are not your truth.”

He looks up, eyes searching. “But how do I prove them wrong? How do I show that I deserve to be here?”

“It starts with belief,” you say, leaning forward for emphasis, “belief in yourself. You’ve trained, you’ve raced, you’ve faced challenges head-on, and you’ve earned your spot. Your journey in F1 isn’t just about your last name. It’s about every late-night on the simulator, every risk taken on the track, every lap you’ve driven.”

Lance nods slowly, taking in your words. “But the chatter, it’s just so deafening sometimes.”

You offer a comforting smile. “You can’t control what others say but you can control how you react. Every time you’re on that track, you have the power to redefine the narrative, to let your skills speak louder than any spiteful words.”

Motivation straightens his hunched shoulders, the weight of doubt lifting slightly. “So focus on the drive, not the noise?”

“Exactly,” you affirm. “Your talent, your dedication, that’s what matters. Let the world see Lance Stroll, the driver, not just Lance Stroll, the son.”

He chuckles, “Easier said than done.”

You wink, “That’s why you have a stellar support system. Lean on us whenever the noise gets too loud.”

George Russell: Comparing Comparisons

It’s a cool afternoon at the Silverstone Circuit and the entire paddock is buzzing with excitement. There’s an added layer of intrigue to the British Grand Prix this season. Lewis Hamilton, the seven-time world champion, will be racing alongside his much younger compatriot, George Russell, as teammates for the first time.

In the Mercedes team garage, George is meticulously going over his race data, replaying certain turns and maneuvers in his head. But an undertone of tension cuts through his concentration.

You walk over, picking up on his restlessness. “Nervous about tomorrow?”

He glances up, forcing a smile. “That obvious, huh? It’s just racing alongside Lewis … it’s a dream come true but also incredibly daunting.”

You nod, understanding the pressure of standing next to a giant in the sport. “It’s natural to feel that way. Lewis has carved a legacy in F1 and now you’re right beside him, sharing the same tracks in the same car.”

George sighs, “That’s the thing. Everywhere I turn, there’s a comparison. It’s not just about my performance anymore, it’s about how I measure up to him.”

You lean against the worktable, choosing your words carefully. “Here’s the thing, George. You can’t control comparisons or expectations but you can control your race. Every driver brings something unique to the track. Lewis has his legacy, yes, but you have your own journey and story still to build.”

George nods slowly, pondering over your words. “I want to be able to block all of that out. I’ve tried every single weekend so far. But it’s hard. How do I focus on my race and not the looming shadow beside me?”

“There’s no one right answer,” you sympathize. “Look, Lewis is an icon and racing alongside him is an opportunity to learn, to grow. But remember, you’ve earned your spot here. This is as much your race as it is his.”

He chuckles, “You always know exactly what to say.”

You smile, “Just a little wisdom from the sidelines. Trust your training, trust your instincts, and let George Russell shine.”

Lando Norris: Never Grow Up

It’s a warm and bright morning but the mood inside the McLaren motorhome doesn’t quite reflect the sunny atmosphere outside. Lando Norris sits in a corner, earbuds in, lost deep in thought. The usual playful energy that surrounds him is missing today.

You approach, sensing the shift in his demeanor. “Room for one more?”

He looks up, offering a half-hearted smile. “Sure.”

You settle beside him, waiting for him to speak. After a brief pause, Lando finally breaks the silence. “Do you think I’m too childish?”

You’re slightly taken aback. “What makes you say that?”

Lando sighs, “I overheard some comments from a few crew members from another team. They said that no one takes me seriously because I’m always joking around, always laughing. They think that I’m not mature enough for this sport.”

You consider his words, understanding where he’s coming from. "Formula 1 is intense. It’s demanding and requires immense focus and dedication. But it’s also about personality, about bringing your unique touch to the grid.”

He nods but still seems unsure. “But what if they’re right? What if I’m not taken seriously because of how I act?”

You lean in, ensuring he listens to every word. “Lando, your driving speaks volumes. Every time you get behind the wheel, you showcase your skill and your tenacity. The playful side of you, the side that loves to laugh and bring joy, that’s a part of who you are. It doesn’t diminish your talent or your dedication.”

Lando seems to ponder your words, “But it’s hard, you know? Feeling like I have to constantly prove myself. Like there’s something wrong with being myself.”

You take his hand into both of yours, “Every driver feels that way at some point. But remember, the beauty of this sport is that it’s as much about character as it is about speed. Your playful nature, your genuine laughter, it brings a freshness to the paddock. Embrace it.”

He chuckles, the familiar sparkle returning to his eyes. “So be me and let my racing do the talking?”

“Without a doubt,” you confirm. “Stay true to yourself. The world needs more genuine smiles and more authentic laughter. Then, on the track, just keep doing what you do best.”

Lando grins, “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

Mick Schumacher: What’s In a Name?

The aftermath of a race is evident inside the Haas garage. Engineers are engaged in post-race analysis, the car undergoing routine checks. A desolate Mick Schumacher sits among the organized chaos, his helmet still on, concealing his face.

Walking over, you notice the subtle tremors in his frame, the weight of something heavy weighing on his young shoulders. Gently, you tap on his helmet, signaling for him to lift it. When he does, the anguish in his eyes is palpable.

“You okay, Mick?” you ask softly.

He tries to answer but his voice breaks. Swallowing hard, he confesses, “I just ... I can’t do it. I can’t ever live up to the name.”

You know the gravity of his sentiment. Being Michael Schumacher’s son in Formula 1 is no easy feat. The legacy, the expectations, the constant comparisons that follow Mick everywhere — it’s overwhelming.

You sit down beside him, “I won’t pretend to understand the pressure you feel but remember this: You are not just your last name. You are Mick Schumacher, your own person with your own journey, your own challenges, and your own victories.”

“But everywhere I go, it’s always about him,” Mick interjects, frustration evident. “The great Michael Schumacher’s son. Can he do it? Will he be even a fraction as good? It’s suffocating.”

You nod, acknowledging his feelings. “Your father is a legend and it’s natural for people to draw parallels. But racing isn’t just about legacy, it's about passion, determination, and personal growth. The shape your path takes in this sport is yours alone.”

Mick wipes away a tear, his gaze distant. “But what if I never truly make it? What if I never even score a point much less a podium or a win? What if I’m always just the son of the legend, never a making a name for myself in my own right?”

You squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. “Then you make peace with that and find joy in what you managed to achieve regardless. You are among twenty of the best drivers on the planet right now. Getting here is no easy feat. Not every path has to lead to the same destination. Maybe you’ll carve a different legacy, one that is uniquely yours.”

Mick seems to ponder over your words, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I just ... I want to make him proud.”

You smile gently, “By being yourself, by giving every race your best shot, you already are. It’s not the titles or the championships that define us. It’s our heart and the impact we make on those around us. And trust me, your heart is in the right place. Your father would only ever want you to be happy, whatever that entails.”

With a deep breath, Mick nods, a content smile crossing his lips. “Thank you. I needed that.”

You give him an encouraging pat, “I’m always in your corner. Remember that it’s not the shadow that defines us but how we emerge from it.”

Mick stands up, ready to face another day, another race. The legacy of his last name will always be there but he’s slowly learning that his own identity holds value and strength too.

Toto Wolff & Christian Horner: Couples Therapy

The sun filters through the sheer curtains of the sophisticated office, casting dancing patterns on the wooden floor. A blend of vanilla and sandalwood wafts through the air, lending to an ambiance of calm. But this illusion is quickly shattered by two animated voices engaged in heated debate, echoing from the hallway. The door flings open to reveal Toto Wolff and Christian Horner, each determined to prove their point even before the session officially starts, and the cameras and sound equipment stationed around the room quickly zero in on them.

You sit in your chair, a hint of amusement in your eyes, as you address them. “Gentlemen, welcome! How about we start by taking our seats?”

Toto and Christian hesitantly sit on the couch, keeping as much distance from each other as possible.

“So,” you begin, trying to contain your laughter, “Drive to Survive mentioned you two might need some ... couples therapy?” You add air quotes for emphasis.

Christian immediately rolls his eyes. “It’s ridiculous! We’re competitors, not some bickering married couple.”

Toto chimes in, “Although he does nag like my grandmother.”

Christian retorts, “Oh please, Toto! The way you carry on, anyone would think you’re auditioning for a soap opera.”

You hold up a hand, “Alright, let’s take a deep breath. We’re here to find common ground.”

The two team principals continue their banter, airing their grievances, from stolen engineers to wind tunnels to secret agreements. You listen, scribbling notes, occasionally nodding or offering a “hmm” of understanding.

After what seems like an eternity, you interrupt their tirade. “Okay, I’ve come to a conclusion. You both are quite the pair. But instead of directing this ... energy at each other, how about a united front? Surely there’s something, or someone, you both dislike equally?”

Christian and Toto exchange glances, a mischievous glint appearing simultaneously. “The producers,” they chorus.

You swear that you can hear the men standing out of camera range behind you — the producers in question — audibly swallow.

You lean in, intrigued. “Go on.”

Toto grins, “They’ve been poking and prodding, trying to get a reaction out of us. It’s why they set this whole thing up in the first place. And while we do love the drama,” he eyes Christian, “maybe it’s time they get a taste of their own medicine.”

Christian nods in agreement, “A united front to give the producers a season they won’t forget.”

You clap your hands together, “Perfect! So what’s the plan?”

As the session concludes, Toto and Christian leave, arms around each other’s shoulders, laughter echoing down the hall.

You lean back in your chair, chuckling. “Well, that was certainly one for the books.”

You turn around to face the Drive to Survive crew already packing their equipment and producers looking shell shocked . You’ve never seen grown men look quite so pale. But they only have themselves to blame — the session was their idea in the first place.

Sometimes you really love your job.