#but i feel that the way i worded it gets the point across

[beenbaanbuun]

guard dog w/ jeong yunho

pt2

you live in a shitty apartment in a shitty neighbourhood surrounded by shitty neighbours who seem to make it their life’s work to make your life a living hell

the guy that lives across from you is an aspiring dj, emphasis on aspiring

unfortunately with him working the late shift at his supermarket job, it means he likes to practice late into the night

after the first 5 noice complaints, you just gave up trying to get a decent night sleep; part of you thinks he carried on just as one giant ‘fuck you’

the family that live upstairs aren’t great either

the son—timmy? tommy? who cares—thinks it’s fun to sit on the stairs with his buddies and smoke anything they can get their hands on

your air freshener is the only thing keeping you from losing your mind at them! well, that and the fact that quite frankly him and his friends terrify you

they watch you carefully as you make your way down the stairs, pushing through their congregation with a tight lipped, overly polite smile on your face

usually they don’t say a word, giving you little more acknowledgment than a hum as you thank them for barely making enough room for you to push through them

they make you nervous, you can’t deny that, and half of you thinks that’s the whole point

it’s like it’s some sort of strange power play to keep you from complaining to his parents, or worse, the landlord

not exactly a threat, but not not one

maybe it’s those nerves that made you open up to your friend one day

you’d met up with him at a local cafe, offering to pay for his coffee if he gave you half of the sandwich he’d brought with him

“they just spook me a little, y’know?” you mumble as a few crumbs topple over your bottom lip and onto your chin, “it’s a group of 10 over-grown teenage boys; it’s fucking intimidating!”

mingi just nods along, a small frown on his face as he listens to you complain about your living conditions for what seems like the millionth time

he gets it; moving is expensive, especially in the city, and you need to stay relatively close to where you work since you don’t have a car

it doesn’t mean he has to like it, though

“what about a guar—”

“a guard dog?” you cut him off, “mingi, we’ve had this conversation so many times before!”

it’s the truth; it seems like every single time you see him he brings up the same suggestion; scary dog privileges can get you very far in life according to you friend

“too mentally ill to look after another life, sure,” he reiterates the same point you make every single time, “but what about a hybrid?”

again, it feels like you’re in a constant loop of deja vu, destined to relive this conversation over and over again until you can finally afford to move out of that shit hole

“i can’t aff—”

“—afford a hybrid, yeah i know,” you roll your eyes as he finishes your sentence; jesus, he’s annoying, “but what if i told you i knew a guy?”

it sounds suspicious, but you won’t lie and say you’re not a little curious

perhaps you’re just a little too nosy to not lean in a little closer with a brow cocked a question of ‘who?’ primed on your tongue

“can’t say,” is all mingi says, “he doesn’t like people poking around in his business.”

he says it so nonchalantly as if he’s not your best friend who’s just announced that he knows someone who is almost definitely into some dodgy shit

you’d be a bad friend if you didn’t ask at least a few questions, but before you can even open your mouth, mingi beats you to it

“£200 will get you a hybrid though,” you almost choke on the sandwich at the price; this is some seriously dodgy guy if he’s selling hybrids for that little, “£300 if you start laying down preferences.”

“mingi,” you begin, about to beg him to get out of whatever business he’s getting himself involved in

“i’m assuming it’s a no?” he raises an eyebrow; you don’t even have to nod for him to understand your answer

he concedes, throwing his hands up in surrender like he always does whenever you have this conversation

still, the smirk on his face as the conversation moves onto something else doesn’t fill you with the upmost confidence

a week passes by rather quickly; you work, you come home, you go about your evenings as normal, you sleep

nothing seems any different, and why would it? nothing about your life ever really changes without some sort of built up or expectation

and then your doorbell rings

you assume it’s just your neighbour again, around at yours to ask you some sort of stupid question that could easy be solved using a single braincell and google

you trudge to the door with a sour look on your face and a bitterness already growing on your tongue, just to swing it open to see… not your neighbour

not anyone you recognise for that matter

your gaze travels up from the chest you stand eye-to-eye with, traipsing lazily over the defined muscles on his neck before reaching his face

a jaw set in stone, two steely brown eyes and a pair of jet black dog ears are what immediately catch your attention

that and the fact that he’s very handsome; so much so that it takes everything in you not to stare at him with your mouth wide open

“are you going to let me in?” he says as if the hybrid’s arrival at your door was at all expected by you

“who are you?” is the only response you can

“your guard dog,” he replies, and just like that everything clicks into place

mingi, that bastard

“but i didn’t pay for a guard dog,” you argue, hoping that it’ll be enough to make him go back to whatever creep it is that mingi has gotten involved with

“well, someone did.”

he looks bored as he uses a hand to push you aside and steps past you into your tiny apartment, as if this is just another day for him

maybe it is; you don’t know much about hybrids, but you’ve heard enough stories to know just how many of them go through life without a permanent home

they’re tossed from pillar to post as if they’re not conscious beings with minds and lives of their own

it’s sad, the fact that they can be so easily tossed aside by so many people

it’s even sadder to find yourself relating to that feeling

you shut the door, twisting the lock with a finality that you’re not sure you understand

“what’s your name?” you ask as you turn to face him

“yunho,” he sighs

it’s a pretty name, you think to yourself

one that you wouldn’t mind saying over and over again for the… foreseeable future…

seriously, fuck song mingi

“well i’m—”

“i know your name, puppy,” your mouth snaps shut at the authority that laces itself into his words, “it’s all i’ve heard for the past few days.”

you zip your mouth shut, something in your brain warning you not to speak out of turn

something in your brain seems to forget that this is your own home; surely you can speak whenever you want to

“i wasn’t sure what to expect, but you seem to fit the bill,” dark pupils land on your body, dancing up and down your form before finally meeting your eyes, “a pretty thing like you in a town like this? i’m shocked you’re still in one piece.”

“how dare you, i—”

“where am i sleeping?” he cuts you off like your complaints are little more than the stubborn words of a child

it irritates you to no end, and yet you can’t find the words to fight back

there’s just something in his eyes that has you convinced that maybe you’re not the one in charge here

“the couch,” you point to the ratty leather thing, feeling a slight twinge of guilt that it’s the only thing you have to offer

he takes a glance at at for just a second or two before shaking his head

“no,” he replies, “you have a double bed, right?”

“a double—” your eyes go wide, “you’re not sleeping in my bed!”

“yes, i am,” he insists, condescending and annoying. you hate him already, “because i’m certainly not sleeping on that thing, puppy.”

it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s yet to use your name, instead sticking to that godforsaken nickname

if you thought it would make a difference, you might say something about it, but the stubborn arsehole has already shown enough of himself to make you understand that it would do very little

“the floor is available,” you spit, venemously

“and yet it tempts me even less than the sofa,” he smiles sarcastically and it boils your blood, “you’re just gonna have to get used to sharing.”

he takes a few paces forward until you’re having to crane your neck to look him in the eyes

you can practically feel his breath dancing across your cheeks as he lets out a low chuckle, a darkness washing over his face as he studies you

“you’re gonna have to get used to a lot of things now that i’m here,” warmth spreads across your cheek as his palm moves to cup it, “but that’s okay puppy, i can be patient while you learn.”

[d3arapril]

blurb idea: sharing lipgloss with paige 💋 but she specifically wants you to kiss it Onto her lips and will not do it any other way. very stubborn but very hot 🤷‍♀️

"you look good,"

you hear paige before you see her, voice echoing in the hallway before she comes into view from behind you. you eye her reflection in the mirror as she toes towards you, eyes glued on the expanse of freshly moisturised skin on show- black pleated skirt stopping just below the curve of your ass.

"really good." her hands wrap around your waist, chest pressing into your back as she tucks her chin over your shoulder. she's done up too, admittedly not half as much as you but she's got her hair down and it's curled towards the ends. her lashes flutter against her cheeks as she breathes in the smell of your perfume.

"thanks baby," you lock eyes with her in the mirror, glossed lips forming a smile. "we should go soon."

"mmm," she makes a noise in the back of her throat, nodding reluctantly. her gaze flickers down to your lips, tongue darting from her mouth as she wets her own. "what's on your lips?."

you reach down for the component on the counter, picking it up and waving it in front of paige's face. "it's fenty," you twist the cap open to reapply the gloss, lips puckering as you drag the applicator across your pout. "want some?"

paige is nodding, wordlessly. you go to spin in her arms and put some on her but she just grips you tighter, arms pressing harder into your ribs. you frown at her in the mirror, confused. "what's-"

"no," she shakes her head, lips brushing your shoulder. "just- like this," she presses a kiss to the spot where her mouth is hovering, a smile forming as you squirm at the sensation. her lips travel up, past your ear and across your jawline all whilst keeping her eyes on yours in the mirror.

"you want a kiss, huh?" you tease, head lolling to the side as she continues to press wet, open mouthed kisses to your skin. "you're gonna mess up my makeup." it comes out more breathy and whiney than you'd hoped, legs getting weaker with each press of her lips against you.

"don't care," paige mumbles, nuzzling her nose into the side of your neck. "just one kiss, i promise."

"i'll get lipgloss on you,"

"that's the point." she murmurs.

"paige."

she stops moving, lips frozen in the crook of your neck. when she speaks again, her voice is softer. "please?"

you give in, nodding. her hand comes up to cradle your jaw, angling you back awkwardly until you're looking directly into her eyes. they're shining, big and blue and beautiful and you feel your breath hitch in your throat.

"you're so gorgeous." paige whispers, eyes darting all over your face as though it's the first time she's seeing you. the words make a heat blossom in the pit of your stomach and your knees grow weak, fingers flexing where they're pressed against the counter.

"so are you." you whisper back.

that's enough to pull her in, paige leaning in to slot her lips against yours. the moment your lips touch you feel it all the way down to your core, body going lax in her arms. your mouths move together languidly, her grip tightening against your jaw, the other wrapping tighter around your waist.

she takes her time kissing you, licking into your mouth. it's messy, uncoordinated- arguably the best kind of kiss.

you're not sure how long you spend kissing her but it's long enough to make your neck sore. you pull back and can't help the laugh that leaves you when you see much more than your gloss smudged across the lower half of her face. you bring your hand up to wipe across her mouth and chin, foundation staining her skin.

"was that enough to keep us home tonight?"

help me get over my writers block - send me a person + a prompt!

[parfaitblogs]

over the moon ❀ s. reid x reader

in which a bout of insomnia prompts the usage of your arguably overworked baking equipment. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff tags: established relationship. cliché flour fight into kissing... sorry... no i'm not. use of pet names. make out sesh (obviously).  word count: 1.4k a/n: also known as spencer and reader take on the margotlia bucket list for margovember!!! happy birthday to my lover @pathologicalreid!!! who has very quickly become my other half on this silly little side of tumblr. a prophet told me there are snickerdoodle cookies and a smithsonian date with our names on it in our futures ♡

"Honey, please tell me the light on in the kitchen is you getting a glass of water."

Like a deer in headlights, you're frozen in your beelined pathway between the fridge and the countertop of Spencer's kitchen, the carton of eggs in your hands preventing any attempt of a lie to him.

"Uh..." Your eyes lock with his, and he's visibly deflating upon spotting the pantry's baking ingredients arranged in front of you. "I'm just getting water?"

"I didn't realise you put sticks of butter into your water," he counters, voice meticulously picking apart your lie in front of your face. "Does that taste good?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sure," he nods his head, his feet carrying him over to you behind the counter. "What recipe have you chosen to victimise today?"

"Snickerdoodle cookies," you mumble, as his arms wrap around your waist, and his chin sits on your shoulder, eyes peering at your phone screen that had the cookie recipe open. 

"Any particular reason?" 

"I couldn't sleep," you explain. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," he nods, and a beat passes where you mumble a quiet apology to him, before he's pulling away from you and picking up your phone. "Where do we start?"

It wasn't the first time you had baked instead of sleeping, and it certainly wasn't the first time Spencer had woken up to the sound of your hand mixer combining sugar and butter, or the oven timer dinging to accompany the smell of freshly baked muffins. In fact, he had become accustomed to not getting through an entire fortnight without at least one tray of baked goods taking up counter space. 

It was the first time he had offered to help you, though. He either accompanied you and watched you bake, or sat at his desk to get paperwork done (he said he should use the extra time spent conscious wisely). 

"You don't have to help," you're shaking your head, but he's already going to the sink to wash his hands. 

"You only slept for two hours before waking up to do this. I'd like to get you back to bed sooner rather than later," he answers, patting his hands dry. "I won't sleep until you do, anyways."

"Okay," you relent, staring at him almost stunned, before you return to the recipe you had up on your phone. "Um... could you combine the sugar and butter?"

Baking with Spencer Reid seemed to make everything a lot easier. Ignoring the obvious (the help an extra set of hands provided), his eidetic memory meant you could throw a step his way, and he'd know exactly what he was doing. Having asked him to add the eggs to his sugar and butter mix, he was already separating the yolk from the whites before you needed to say a thing.

"Have you ever stuck your hand into flour?" you ask him, and he lifts his head, eyebrows frowning together. 

"No. Why would I do that?"

"To know what it feels like," you say, dryly, though there isn't any malice behind it. "Have you never wanted to know what it feels like?"

"You can use context clues to figure out what it would feel like," he replies. "Correct?" 

"Spencer, you're entirely missing the point," you shake your head, and though he lifts his head from his sugar-butter-and-egg mixture to question you, he doesn't even remotely expect a large fistful of flour to explode across his chest. 

Then, you're laughing, and he's still battling with the initial shock of your flour attack for a few more seconds to laugh with you. But, when he does, he's almost mocking with it, and your face falls when he's putting his own hand into the container labelled flour, lifting it, and dragging his hand over your stomach. 

"Oh my God!" you say through a laugh, looking down at the smear of flour on your t-shirt. "Spencer!"

"Reap what you can sow," he retorts. 

So, you do.

You aren't too sure when the flour fighting gets more intimate. Somewhere between your fingers running it through his hair, and his hands landing on your ass, as he tugs you into him.

You're heaving, though the smile on your face is perfect, and he's certain he might be falling in love with you all over again. Cheeks stained in flour and all. 

"Hello," you sing, lifting your chin up to smile at him.

"Hi, sweet girl," he replies, ducking his head down to brush his lips against yours, and you pull a face at the faint taste of flour on them. 

Your finger lifts up to brush his lower lip, face growing concentrated as you brush the powder off it. "You've got a little... something..." 

"Do I?" he asks, condescendingly, and you're firmly nodding your head. 

"Yep. This is why I bake alone, Spencer Reid," you tut. 

His eyebrows raise. "I don't know if I want to even try to prove you wrong."

"I wouldn't recommend it."

"Duly noted. Anything you do recommend?"

You pause. "Kissing me might help in my journey of forgiving you for this mess."

If he's got any plan to defend himself, it crumbles beneath the words of your request, and his lips are stretching into a smile. 

"I'll do whatever I can."

His lips have a film on them from the brushed away flour, making them softer than they usually are, as he presses them against yours. Hands that were once resting almost teasingly on your ass lift to your hips, and your own drop to the countertop behind him as you lean into him.

As you usually feel in your slow moments like this with him, you feel your heart soar, your head tilting to the side as you accomodate his face being so close to your own. 

Arguably, his favourite thing about kissing you for longer than half a second, is the mewls and hums that leave your lips. Never too much to prompt anything more, but instead just enough to tell him just how much you enjoy kissing him. A feeling that is entirely mutual.

As soon as it starts, it's over. Which can't really be true, for you are panting when his head pulls away from yours,  and he's got that glassy look in his eyes that always makes your body warm. 

"We need to go shower," he murmurs, breath warm against your skin. 

You want to decline, just to stay standing right there in the kitchen with him, the urge to keep kissing him almost overwhelming. But his fingers have lifted to brush against a patch of flour on your neck, and you're surrendering at the feeling. 

"Okay."

Thus, forty-five minutes and one unreasonably long shower later, you were standing back in the kitchen, a bowl with cinnamon and sugar in front of you. Spencer's t-shirt hanging off your body — after you had expertly coerced him into letting you wear it — and a fork in your hands as you whisk the two toppings together. 

He's sitting on a stool on the other side of the bench, stirring the dough together after you had complained it was too thick. He argued it was supposed to be. 

Heading over to Spencer once the cinnamon and sugar was combined in a bowl, you mumble, "Okay. 'm tired," your head buried into the crook of his neck. 

"Yeah, weaponising that flour probably exhausted some energy," he muses, letting go of the wooden spoon to wrap his arms around you. "We still need to bake these, though."

"Cookie dough is yummy too," you retort, hand reaching out to pinch a piece of the dough. 

"Cookie dough isn't safe for you to eat," he answers, catching your wrist before you can get ahold of any batter. Upon seeing your pout, combined with the tired look in your eyes, he relents, letting you pick up a small piece just to eat. "How about we put this in the fridge, and we bake them tomorrow?" 

"I like that plan."

"I thought you would."

Helping him with the clean up consisted of you putting the dough in the fridge and cinnamon sugar in the pantry, and him doing... everything else. He didn't seem to mind, though, and his hands found their place on your waist as he walked you back towards the bedroom. 

"C'mon, sleepy girl."

He laughs at your incoherent grumble towards the name calling, letting you drag him back into the bed adorned with wrinkled sheets. 

"Thanks for baking with me," you say, voice layered with your exhaustion as you're curling up next to him. 

"Thanks for attacking me with flour."

"And I'd do it again."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[rindreamery]

in another life, i would be yours.

types of tragic love tropes with blue lock men.

itoshi rin, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, oliver aiku

itoshi rin as your unrequited love.

who could never find the right time. rin was always one missed call away, one minute too late, and always one step behind his brother. too many bouquets would lay discarded in the trash, and too many times the phrase, “i love you,” would lay at the tip of his tongue— words he would never dare to say to you. and he wonders, during his sleepless nights, if he’d be the one to hold your heart if he had acted quicker.

but it’s an awfully selfish thought, and the guilt that eats at him feels worse than the love he feels for you. he feels filthy for wanting someone who could never be his. so he forfeits for the first time in his life. he doesn’t mind hurting if it means that his brother is happy.

itoshi sae as your first love.

who was good to you, but nothing more. sae was a classic and naive, first love of yours; the type of love that you kept coming back to because you couldn’t let go, because you didn’t know what love was supposed to feel like. your perception was an idealized and skewed version of him, one that didn’t actually exist. he was sweeter in your mind— remembered your favorite things, carried your bags, and walked you home— but he could never find the balance between soccer and you. though he wasn’t perfect, you loved him and that was all that mattered to you.

so you foolishly gave your heart to him, only to receive it back in pieces. it’s been years, but there are times when you still think of him. a part of you believes that he never truly gave all of your heart back to you— a part of you will always be with him, and that’s a pain you’ll live with for the rest of your life.

isagi yoichi as your forbidden love.

who could never be yours. yoichi’s presence was one you long grew to be familiar with, and one you often found comfort in. he understood you, in a way that you felt that no one else truly could, and he saw you for who you were. not a model, not just a pretty face— but you, in your entirety. your love was limited to longing and lingering gazes shared across the room, tender touches that would ghost over your hands as you pass by one another, and warm embraces shared behind closed doors. he was that someone you wanted to call, “home.”

but the reality is, “home” would never be that warm for you. the fantasy you had built in your mind, where only you and him exists, is shattered by the glimmering ring that reminds you of its presence. a reminder of the love that would never exist between you two.

nagi seishiro as your "what-if" love.

who will always remain as a, “what if?” nagi is someone who plagues your thoughts, more than he should. you think of him when you go out on dates, you think of him when you watch rom coms, you think of him when you see other couples on the street. you fantasize about him in every romantic aspect of your life, almost as if to compensate for the fact that he isn’t yours. and you’ve come to terms that he never will be.

so you’re left with questions of what could've been. what if you gave him your confession, what if you hadn’t set him up with your friend, what if he could love you the way you want to be loved? — questions that will remain unanswered.

mikage reo as your compelled love.

who you know is good for you. reo is as good as it gets, he’s the ideal man; he takes you out on romantic dates, dedicates himself wholeheartedly to you, and never fails to remind you just how much you mean to him. he’s constant in his love for you— what more could you ask for? but your heart is selfish, and it seems that even perfect isn’t enough for you. your love for him is filled with forced smiles and a reminder that you could never find someone like him. so you stay.

you do think you loved him at one point. but it’s hard to ignore your want for a love that would spark a burning want in you. his love is as good as it can get, and yet you rarely find yourself yearning for it. your heart has faltered, unlike his.

oliver aiku as your ludic love.

who thrives from the push-and-pull. oliver was someone that you knew you were supposed to stay away from; he was the type of person who was just out of reach, never meant to be had, and the type of person who always pulls away whenever something starts to feel too serious. but he gets away with it because he’s frustratingly charming. and you’re frustratingly stubborn, never wanting to fully give in to his advances. in his eyes, your love is a challenge he has yet to conquer. for some reason, that’s exactly what makes your heart race.

as long as his game continues, you’re in it. you know you should crave for something steady, a love that doesn’t keep you on your toes. but you don’t want it— not when this kind of love keeps pulling you deeper, even when you know it’s more fleeting than it is real.

note. i could write a happier version... i could also just keep it at this 🤭

© rindreamery, 2024

[marsdql]

Unexpected — ༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:･

Extended verison of caught off guard !! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

Pairing: Brother’s best friend!Heeseung x fem!reader

Synopsis: You're shocked to discover that your longtime crush Heeseung is now friends with your brother, leading to a fanfiction-like (literally) story.

Genre/warnings: fluff, little suggestive?, brother's bestfriend, reader is 3 years younger, mention of stalking, alloooottt of teasing, no dividers in between the paragraphs… | wc: 25k I think.

𝙈𝙖𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: im so extremely sorry for the ungodly word count I wrote each part separately and forgot to take in consideration the amount of writing I was doing.. The poll said to not make this into parts so I just put it all in one post though!!!!!!! + Masterlist coming soon, request me your suggestions (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ okay enjoy now

Your brother had made new friends during the first semester because of a lot of senior group projects, which made the house busy. Your brother and his friends wanted more quiet places to work on things, like each other's houses. It's strange that it was always at your house and not his friends' or the library, but whatever.

You didn’t mind much, until a particular someone came over, Heeseung, the 6’0 slim brunette senior you’ve been crushing on since you were in middle school, now a freshman. You followed him around everywhere with your friends, making it so obvious that you guys were following HIM. You would send him holiday letters provided by the school, stall his social media, follow his friends and him at one point until he removed you over a silly kpop story... everything… and now, he’s with your brother?! Since when!

Bad thoughts filled your mind as you remembered all the embarrassing moments he caught you staring at him, thinking that he’d tell your brother all of it if he sees you and finds out that you’re the sister of the guy he’s getting closer to each day. But you were hungry, so hungry, you needed to eat, you always do before taking a nap, it’s like a routine, he can’t just ruin your routine. You start making plans on how to get to the kitchen without Heeseung and your brother spotting you. After a few minutes of thinking, you finally build up the courage to get downstairs and pray for the best.

You tip-toe your way down the stairs, attempting to make as little noise as possible, and to your surprise, the two boys are on the island table right across the fridge, you’re doomed, he’s going to see you, you can’t just walk back upstairs!

“Y/n? What are you doing, you look so stupid right now.” Your brother blurts out which makes you jolt up and fix your posture. Shoot. You forgot that they can see you from their perspective more than you can see them. But you act fast, “huh? Oh! Hi um.. I was just counting how many steps we have to the stairs.. for a math project!” What the heck was that response? Whatever, it’ll do. As you finish your sentence, you give yourself an excuse to get closer so that it doesn’t get too awkward, and there he is, the Heeseung of your dreams, locking eyes with you with his stale and cold expression planted on his face, not one tiny bit of shock in his face when seeing you.


 “Hey by the way, don’t take a nap, mom wants you to help her with groceries, she’s coming in a minute, wait in the living room or something just don’t go back upstairs” your brother says before putting all his focus back to the project he’s doing with sousou. At this point, you mutter out a small “okay” and forget the snack you came downstairs for, heading to the couch to go on your phone and act like nothing happened(secretly glancing at Heeseung from time to time.)

30 minutes later, your mother comes back while your brother and mister take a bathroom break. You head to the garage, opening the door for your mother to bring the groceries in for you to then place them on the counter. You’re holding big heavy bags, making you groan trying to pick them all up, then all of a sudden, as you're trying to get up, you feel the weight getting lighter and lighter, thinking you're stronger than you thought, but to your surprise… It's the dream man helping you. “Are you that lazy? Couldn’t you have just picked them one at a time? Hm?” He says as he coughs out a small chuckle, picking up the bags with ease. You can’t do anything but stare at him and place them on the table, your lips forming an O but unable to make a sound or blurt any words out. Before you get yourself to say anything, he cuts you off with a “You’re not slick, we both know exactly why you’re so shy” what…????? “I’m not shy at all?! I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You scream before the nervousness gets to you. You never thought your first conversation with Heeseung was going to be like this. “Oh yeah? You think I don’t know what you do? All the letters you sent me the past 2 years? Common now, I’m not stupid hhh…” suddenly, he lets go of the bags and gets closer to you, your brother still in the washroom and your mother still outside. His cold expression is still there but with a slight smirk. Your cheeks and nose get red quickly, making him only grin harder as he sees the effect he has on you. “You wouldn’t want your brother to see all the cheesy things you’ve done, let alone your mother, hmph? Of course you wouldn’t want that, you’re such a nice girl they would never think you’d do that, you’re just a sweet girl who goes to school and hangs out with her friends, definitely doesn’t beg them to follow me around, right?” He’s so close to you, his words only making you blush harder. His eyes shift to the door as he watches your mother call for him “Oh hello Heeseung! Would you be a sweetheart and help me with these bags? Y/n, please put the milk away! I forgot something at that store, I need to go back and pick it up.” Of course, the young man quickly obeyed your mother and helped her out, leaving you red and shoving your face in the fridge to cool down, you’re cooked, you have no idea what's taking your brother so long, but it feels like an eternity… Since when did LEE HEESEUNG have the courage to say that? What’s he gonna say next???? You keep replaying the words he said a few seconds ago, making you go crazy all over again.

Hours later, 22:00, your brother and his friend passed out on the counter of the kitchen as you were laying in bed, bored and unable to think of anything except the incident that happened earlier. Your best friend would always write fanfiction of you and hee as a joke, not thinking anything of it because you knew you were not delusional enough to think a guy 3 years older than you would actually notice you or look your way.

Abruptly, you feel the urge to go to the bathroom, wanting to wash the guilt written all over you face from the amount of overthinking. As you get to the entrance, you notice a black statue from across the hallway, making your heart drop as it walks closer to you. Suddenly, your screams wake up the entire neighborhood, "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I don't know what I did but I'm sorry I'll never wish death upon anyone else who likes Mingyu and joshua! I promise god I'll never ever hope that all S.coups fangirls except me will fall in a hole!" you close your eyes shut as you squeal and think its the end of your days.

Until that skinwalker finally decides to open his mouth and.. "BOO!" Heeseung screams as he shakes your shoulders, not initially intending on scaring you until he realized that you couldn't see his figure. Why did it have to be him again?! "Hey, I'm joking, calm down, you're okay. It's just me. What was all that blabbering about?" he says, again, with his famous chuckle you've probably heard more than actual words from his mouth. "You can't just do that! It's dark, nighttime and it's just annoying!" you wail, feeling surprised that you managed to actually say something to his face. "Huh? feisty, calm down scaredycat, do you usually see things?" You swallow, knowing that you not only see things, but hear things at night as well.

There's an awkward silence between you two, both standing in the dark with nothing but the light of the bathroom reflecting on eachothers skin. "So? You ain't gonna speak ‘bout nothing YOU'VE been doing? You just gonna stay quiet like that?" You gulp hard, since when was he this bold and confident? What did he expect you to say, then there you are, too scared and shy to talk again, obvious shyness on your face, making heeseung aware of it, once again. He would always secretly tease you, manspread in front of you while looking at you, trying not to stare at him back and attempting to put all your focus on your friends. He would lean against the wall and look at you up and down as you walked past him, with your face buried in your friend's back, trying not to go crazy over his state. He knew the effect he had on you, since the start, it boosted his ego the most. "You shy, doll?" He whispers as he gets closer, not scared of anyone catching you both being so close, almost heads touching.

“W-what if someone catches us like this?, you can't be so close..” You mutter under your breath, forcing the words out of your mouth knowing that you don't really want him to move. “Hm? You gonna stop me? I'll stop if you tell me to, you just gotta use your words, pretty” he whispers once again, looking down on you as he pushes both your bodies onto the wall near the door of the bathroom with his chest. Your lips are shut, unable to get yourself to push him away or say a word.

He feels you slowly giving in, he knows you would, you might know information about you but he knows all your body language, he knows how nervous you get when you're alone with him and he's ready to take advantage of you all. GO HIT THAT GUM JILGEONG!!(sorry i got bored) You feel 1000 knots in your stomach from his breath hitting you cold neck, seconds later, “Take me to your room.”

Saying that his words shocked you was a huge understatement, you were feeling so many emotions that you just went numb. Sight went foggy and you couldn't think anymore, the last thing you remembered was showing him the way to your bedroom. Heading to your bed with wobbly legs due to the fear you were feeling, you had zero idea on what was going to happen. How is this the first day you talk to Heeseung and it's already this crazy? You always imagined scenarios and insane stuff, but now it feels like you just manifested them all because this craziest one is coming to life.

“Cute room. Surprised you don't have any photos of me.” The tall man says as he throws himself on the bed. At this point, you would've been able to speak to him like a normal person, but all his flirtatious words made u only use your movements, no verbal communication in sight. He stares at your BT21 plushies with disgust, pushing them off the bed with his foot, is he really still annoyed about that instagram post? Or is he still jealous? “Hate those people” he huffs as he turns to his side, seeming amused with your sweet candy-like scent on your bed. “Why are you scared of your own bed?” He comments as he watches you stare at him from your desk, realizing that you arent on your bed because HE'S ON IT. “I-im not scared, maybe you're just too big for my bed and I can't fit.. Fatty..” ‘What'd you just call me?’ “Huh? What! I didn't say a-anything?” ‘No no i deeefinitely heard something, did you just call me fat?’ “Okay yes! I did, am I lying though? You're not slick, I know the locker you share with Jay is greasy as hell!” you squeal as you make a disgusted face. ‘Yeah? You saw me get out of class to get a cookie too? Or were you too busy trying to hide from me to be able to see what was in my hand?’ Shoot, You cant reply to him with anything, both answers are wrong.. ‘Yeah that's what i thought.’

“W-what are you doing in my room, why do you wanna be here?” You ask him, innocently. ‘Because I don't break my back sleeping on the couch and I have enough manners to not barge into your brother's room when he's asleep.’ “It's better if you sleep in my brother's room than anyone finding out you slept in mine…” 'I'll leave before anyone wakes up. Comon, I wont do anything.’ It's not like he’d do anything anyway, he's as nonchalant as ever and obviously wouldn't try anything on you, he knows you wouldn't actually give into THAT, plus, he's glad youre not like that, atleast at your age.

As Heeseung takes over your bed, you are still in shock. He is sprawled out like he owns the place, watching you from the other side of the room with a small smile on his face. When someone dares to call you out on your personal space, you feel both irritated and agitated.

He pats the empty spot on the bed beside him with the same smirk and asks, “Are you really just going to stare at me from over there?”

You pause, but you cannot maintain any resistance and end up stumbling over. You take care to maintain some distance between you while sitting on the edge, but he does not let you off that easily.

Hee laughs and creeps closer, making you all too aware of the distance vanishing between you two. “Calm down, I don’t bite.” When you look up, you see him observing you with that recognizable sparkle in his eye that indicates he is relishing every moment of it.

You make an effort to minimize it by rolling your eyes, but your cheeks’ redness most likely shows that you are not paying much attention. “Heeseung, what are you even doing here? Wouldn’t you be better off downstairs or not settling into my room?”

With a low chuckle, he leans back comfortably without shifting. With a playful tone, he raises his eyebrows and asks, “What, do you not like me here? Your mom is still out shopping, and your brother is unconscious. I thought, why don’t I keep you company since it’s just the two of us?”

Even though he still teases, his eyes are now softer. For a moment, he seems to be genuinely interested in you rather than just making jokes, as if he is looking at you differently than he has in the past. As the air between you thickens and you feel trapped but unwilling to move, your pulse quickens.

He leans forward abruptly, getting so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure you actually want me to leave?” He whispers as his gaze moves over your face, capturing every tiny expression you are unable to conceal.

You catch the words in your throat. Before you can respond, he raises one hand and gently brushes a flyaway hair out of your face, his fingers remaining in place for a beat too long.

He whispers, “Tell me to stop, and I will,” in a low voice that is so intimate it chills you.

However, for some reason, you remain silent. You cannot decide whether you want him to stay or enjoy the excitement of him being this close to you and staring at you as if you are the only person in the room.

All he does is smile, that knowing smile returning to his face. He leans back and whispers, “Thought so,” remaining close enough to feel the electricity of the distance.

The weight of the moment presses down on you in the most euphoric way, making it seem like it will last forever. Even though Heeseung’s smile is still there, his eyes seem softer now, almost tender. He seems to be assessing each response, blush, and look as though recording them all.

In a low, informal voice, he begins, “So.” “Will you explain to me why you stare at me all the time, or will you continue to act as though it’s not obvious?”

He tilts his head, leaning a little closer to make sure you are not escaping too easily, but your face turns red hot, your heart pounding, and you quickly turn your head away. Please do not be so shy around me right now. He laughs softly and adds, “We both know you have been looking for a while.”

It feels like the words are stuck in your throat when you try to say something. He moves, keeping you cornered with his arm braced against the headboard next to your shoulder. The closeness is dizzying.

At last, you are able to find your voice. “I’m not… Really, I wasn’t. It’s not as if I—” His gaze prevents you from forming a coherent sentence, so you trail off.

Evidently taking pleasure in your agitated state, he laughs. “So it was not intentional that I always caught you staring at me in the hallway or whenever you passed by with your friends?”

Your lack of response is sufficient, and he smiles, obviously enjoying your response.

He leans slightly closer, until you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, and murmurs, “I guess I was right, huh?” He says quietly, “But you don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” in a tone that has become more earnest and almost comforting. “I kinda enjoy it.”

You look up and meet his eyes as those final words give you a start. They have an unexpected quality that makes it seem as though he has known you as well as you have known him. There is still teasing, but it has a deeper, more genuine undertone.

“Wait—what?” Your voice barely rises above a whisper as you manage to blurt out.

His eyes remain fixed on yours as he smiles, softer this time. “Are you sure you don’t know?”

You do not trust yourself to say anything more, so you shake your head. He sighs as if he is having a hard time believing what he is going to say.

“Y/n,” he whispers, “I have been interested in you since long before tonight.”

The words linger between you, vibrating with an intensity that catches you completely off guard, and you freeze. Heeseung’s eyes soften, becoming completely serious instead of playful. His closeness now seems more like a confession than a tease.

You mumble, “Wait,” hardly believing your own voice. “You have not been ignoring me?”

He nods slowly, his previous sly smile giving way to something more real and vulnerable. “Yes, I have noticed you, but I wouldn’t say I have been staring at you. Do you think I have not noticed your gaze on me? Or the way you become silent around me? It’s clear, y/n.”

You are rendered speechless by the shock of what he said. Your heart is thumping in your chest and your mind is racing as you try to process this new reality. You have always known Heeseung was self-assured, perhaps even arrogant, but this? You have never seen him like this before. It is honest and unvarnished, and for a split second, you cannot even tell if you are dreaming.

Trying to gather yourself, you ask, “Are you serious?” but your words come out more breathless than you meant.

He responds softly, “I don’t joke about this kind of stuff,” as his thumb lightly brushes the side of your arm, warming your skin. “I have been trying to determine whether you were feeling the same way or if I was just dreaming.”

Your pulse quickens at the thought, and you bite your lip. The air feels heavier and thicker now, and the room feels smaller. In this moment of unsaid tension, everything around you seems to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you.

You do not say anything for a few seconds, allowing his words to register. You have long admired Heeseung from a distance and wondered what it would be like to be near him. However, you never imagined that he would share your sentiments. And now here he is, publicly acknowledging it, his eyes full of sincerity.

“I…,” you finally manage to say, “I did not know you would notice,” in a hesitant and low voice. “After all, I believed I was being subtle. I did not want to cause any strangeness.”

Hee laughs, his voice deep and comforting. “Clever? You? I promise you, y/n, there is nothing subtle about the way you gaze at me. However, I enjoy it. I have enjoyed it for some time.

For a moment, you question whether you are dreaming as the words hit you like a wave. The fact that he is sitting so close to you and that his hand is now resting on the bed between you two, inches from where yours is, makes the entire situation seem unreal. Even though everything is so personal, there is still a lot of uncertainty, which makes it difficult to completely unwind.

You ask, just above a whisper, “So, what now?” as a mix of anxiety and excitement rises inside of you.

Heeseung’s face softens as he inhales deeply. “Now?” he asks in a soft yet purposeful tone. “y/n, all I am waiting for now is for you to say what you want. Because I am listening to whatever it is. I would rather not hurry you. I have been waiting for you to solve it as well.”

For the first time in what seems like an eternity, you release the tension that has been building between you, and your heart skips a beat. You see the honesty and rawness that mirror your own feelings when you look into his eyes.

You look at him with fresh clarity and say, “I think I have figured it out,” in a quiet but firm voice.

It is the same spark in his eyes that has always held you, and Heeseung’s smile is back, albeit softer this time. “Yes? What did you discover?”

As you slowly extend your hand and touch his, you sense a spark of electricity.

His smile grows, and everything seems to be in harmony at that precise moment. There is no longer any hesitation or act of deceit. Now that you and him are at last in agreement, you can look forward to seeing where this unspoken bond may take you.

With his hand now resting on top of yours, Heeseung whispers, “I am glad you figured it out,” his voice barely audible above a whisper. “Because I have been anticipating that statement from you.”

And then everything is different. Something new—something thrilling, something genuine—replaces the tension and the air feels lighter

Neither of you could have imagined as Heeseung leans in and lightly touches your lips. A thrill is sent through you by the gentle touch of Heeseung’s lips against yours, but it is cut short by the distinct sound of footsteps approaching the door. Panic sweeps through you in a flash, and your heart jumps into your throat. With wide eyes, you instinctively glance at the door as though it might save you from the looming catastrophe as you swiftly pull back.

You hear your brother’s voice, loud and clearly irritated, as the door creaks open just a crack. “Y/nnie? Are you in there?”

Quick as ever, Heeseung leans back and puts just enough distance between himself and you to appear casual, but you can tell he is not nearly as shaken as you are by the way his eyes dart to you and the faint smile that is still tugging at his lips.

You force yourself to swallow in an attempt to control your panic. “Yes, I’m here!” you call out, your voice a little too high-pitched for comfort.

Your brother is standing in the doorway, obviously bewildered, as the door opens wider. His brow furrows in that manner that indicates he is going to ask a ton of questions, and he blinks twice as his eyes dart from you to Heeseung. “What on earth are you two doing in here?”

Your mind is a jumble of ideas and excuses as you fumble for the right words. “Nothin’! Nothing bad, really. We were just—uh, talking.”

Your brother folds his arms across his chest and his eyes narrow. “Talking?” he asks again in a suspicious tone. “You two talk like this all the time?”

Heeseung gives you a barely contained smile when you meet his gaze, as though he finds the entire situation humorous. He is not phased at all, of course, because he has always had that arrogant confidence that helps him get out of a tight spot. In the meantime, you are just a few seconds away from losing it due to embarrassment.

“Indeed, we were just catching up. We haven’t seen one another in a long time,” Heeseung’s voice is smooth and unaffected, as if a single sentence would allay your brother’s suspicions.

Your brother looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Catching up in her room, you two? Doesn’t that sound a bit suspicious?”

You give Heeseung a quick, frantic glance, hoping he will save you, but he is taking too much pleasure in this. “Again, we were just conversing. Nothing strange,” Heeseung says with a nonchalant shrug. “But we can go if you have to. I don’t want to invade your territory.” He says with a chuckle.

As though this whole exchange is one big headache he did not sign up for, your brother pauses, still glaring, and then sighs. Then he turns back to the door and murmurs, “Anyway, just don’t make it weird.” “You understand what I mean when I say that you don’t want to hear anything too strange from this room later?”

Heeseung shakes his head and lets out a barely contained laugh as he leaves. His voice is light as he says, “He’s got nothing on us,” but his grin remains mischievous and a bit too knowing.

With your heart still pounding, you release a breath you were unaware you were holding. You mutter, attempting to steady yourself by running a hand through your hair, “I can’t believe he just walked in like that.”

Leaning back against the bed, Heeseung laughs. “Slow down. In any case, he’s too ignorant to solve anything.”

Despite his playful tone, there is a surprising undertone of protectiveness in his voice. He looks you in the eyes, and for a brief moment, you are the only two of you. The tension from earlier returns, but this time it is different—more at ease.

You start to say, “Well, I suppose we should wait until he returns downstairs before we—” but Heeseung cuts you off, his eyes softening.

With a tone that conveys something unsaid, he asks softly, “Before we what?”

You look him in the eyes and feel the tension between you two return. This time, the separation between you is not about actual distance but rather about the potential outcomes and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. You can’t shake the feeling that something could change everything right in front of you.

You confess, “I… I don’t know,” not knowing how to move through the distance between you but unwilling to let go of the bond you have just found. “However, I am aware that I’m not yet prepared for him to solve this.”

With his confidence fully restored, Heeseung grins. “Don’t be concerned. We will resolve the issue. Furthermore, both you and I are aware of what really happens next.”

The ease with which he returns to his typical, carefree self makes you laugh and shake your head. However, you realize that perhaps—just possibly—you are ready to stop acting like everything is easy and let whatever happens between you and Heeseung play out naturally as you sit there with him and hear your brother’s voice reverberating in your head.

Reblogs & Comments are appreciated!

[ marsdql ] •⩊•

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

The Trouble With Fantasies

Remus Lupin x f!reader

warnings: smut, dominate remus hehe, hair pulling, overall rough sex, voyeurism, perverts tbh, drinking, smoking, drunk sex but it’s all consensual ofc

summary: after the boys hear you and remus during certain activities they can’t help but wonder more and more…

word count: 4.5k

a/n: so this could technically b read as a stand alone but it pretty much follows the events of sleepless nights so do what you want with that (i think this is my best smut ever) cheers!

~~~

Something felt different, but you couldn’t exactly tell what it was.

It had been a few weeks since that night you’d gone to your boyfriend's room feeling restless and the boys were acting different. You’d noticed it even the next day, but you didn’t exactly connect the dots.

The morning after your night with him, you woke in Remus’s bed, your entire body sore from what had transpired the night before. He was soundly sleeping, one of his arms draped over your body as he slept on his stomach. You couldn’t help the smile that took over your lips as you gently brushed a piece of his hair out from his face. He was perfect, even as he slept.

Carefully, you removed his arm from your body and started to get up, not without leaving a quick kiss on Remus’s forehead before of course. The remanence of your night together was obvious. Your clothes were on the floor, your panties ripped to shreds. Quietly, you snatched up your shorts and tank top without leaving the secluded curtains of his bed and dressed yourself. You felt sticky with sweat, you desperately needed a long shower.

Just as you were about to leave his bed and head back to your room, you felt him shuffle beside you.

“Y/N? Love? Where are you going?”

You turned back and smiled at him as you ran a hand up and down his naked back. “Good morning Rem. I need to get back to my dorm for a shower.”

“Oh, all right, I’ll see you at breakfast though, right?”

“Of course, love, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You gave him a quick kiss before he passed out again and you began to make your way out of his bed.

The air in his dorm was cold, especially since you were only in your bedclothes. After making sure the curtains were closed behind you, you started to walk toward the door. What caught your attention though was how all the other boys' curtains were closed as well. Typically, they were always open. You didn’t really pay attention to it though, the thought of a nice warm shower consuming almost all of your thoughts.

So, you left the dorm without a second thought.

After your shower, you dressed and did your makeup. Despite the girls' teasing of your newfound hickeys, you still went down to breakfast feeling your typical amount of confidence. Remus and the other Marauders were already sitting at the table, laughing and joking as usual. It made you feel good to see them acting normal. When Remus caught your eye, he smiled widely and welcomed you with a quick kiss as you took the seat next to him.

“How you feeling love?” He asked as he started to help you build your plate.

At that point, it would be typical for the other Marauders, specifically Sirius and James to crack a joke about you and Remus’s shagging getting out of hand. But much to your surprise, the other boy’s faces sort of fell and they remained silent. You found it odd but didn’t focus on it.

“I’m all right,” you answered. “Not very excited about the assignment we have to do in Potions though. I swear Slughorn does it to punish us.”

“What? You don’t enjoy the hour-long brewing with members of the Slytherin house?” Remus joked.

You rolled your eyes and took a bite from your toast. “No, not particularly.”

“Yeah Remus, she’s too sore to be excited about anything,” Marlene snickered from across the table.

You couldn’t help but notice the looks Peter, James, and Sirius shared. Why were they acting so strange? Their faces were all tinted a slight shade of red as if they were embarrassed. What would they have to be embarrassed about though? You glanced at Remus and he didn’t seem concerned at all. So, you let it go.

“Shut it,” you replied to Marlene, a cheeky grin on your face. “You’re just jealous your blokes don’t leave you as satisfied.”

Marlene chuckled. “As if! I’ll let you know my blokes are wonderful.”

“Are they now?” You giggled.

“Yes! Just because I don’t get shagged on random Tuesday nights doesn’t mean I don’t get enough action. I’ll let you know the last time I was with Charlie from Ravenclaw he did this thing with his tongue that-”

“Okay, can we drop this? You lot are going to make me puke.” Sirius cut her off with a grimace.

Marlene looked at Sirius with a playful frown. “Aw is the player uncomfortable hearing about women's conquests instead of a man?”

“No, it’s just too early for this kind of talk,” James piped in.

“Since when? Do you know how many times you’ve come prancing in here going on and on about how hard you shagged girls? Seems a bit hypocritical to me,” Mary spoke up as she stirred her porridge.

Lily nodded. “I have to agree as well.”

Sirius huffed and stood up. “Come on lads let's just get to class early.”

Peter and James followed without question and they were gone, leaving you, Remus, and the girls sat in a strange silence.

You turned to your boyfriend, incapable of dropping their strange behavior. “What’s going on with them?”

Remus only shrugged. “No idea.”

You shrugged it off for as long as you could.

~~~

Later that day after classes had ended you and Remus were in his dorm once again only this time the two of you were sat on his bed comparing notes and homework assignments. Dating perhaps the smartest boy in the year came with its perks. Especially the ones having to do with free answers on schoolwork. After some time of Remus trying to explain to you more unnecessary information about the Giant Wars you groaned and fell back on the bed, your head hanging off.

“This is just too hard Rem,” you said with a sigh.

“It’s really not, you’re just making it hard,” he laughed, tapping his muggle pen on your thigh. “Come on, we need to keep going.”

“But I simply cannot!” You moaned dramatically and flung your arms in the air. “It’s too much.”

“Just a bit more then we can go and steal some sweets from the kitchens,” he replied.

You sat up again, a playful smirk on your face. “If you think bribing me with treats is going to work you are very correct. Can we go faster though? At this pace, we aren’t going to be done for hours.”

“We can go as fast as you like, but I don’t think you’re going to learn much if we rush.”

“I don’t need to learn all of this; I swear we’ve gone over it thousands if not millions of times before. This has got to be a form of torture.”

Remus only chuckled lightly and moved his textbook closer to you. “The more you complain the slower it’ll go by.”

You groaned again but picked up your quill. “Merlin, I swear Bins-”

Just then, the door to the dorm burst open and the other Marauders entered, sour expressions on their faces.

“Remus can you quit shagging your girlfriend for one day we also live in this dorm it’s not just yours,” Sirius spoke as he entered.

As their eyes fell over the two of you, however, their faces shifted from ones of aggravation to ones of confusion. You and Remus looked at each other confused before he spoke.

“What are you idiots on about?”

“Oh... we thought...” Peter stumbled over his words.

“We heard your conversation we thought you were doing some kinky shagging or something,” James said.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So, you pervs were standing out there listening while you thought we were shagging?”

Peter looked down ashamed but James and Sirius kept their confidence. “Well yes, we were too afraid to come in.”

“But you did come in. What if we were shagging would you want to see your best mate naked? Would you want to see me naked?” You continued to laugh. But as you saw their faces turn red, you stopped. What was going on with them?

When you turned to look at Remus again, he had a strange expression on his face, one you couldn’t decode. He was looking at his friends almost with... jealousy. That didn’t make much sense to you though. What would he need to be jealous of? Without a word he placed his hand on your thigh, his eyes still locked on his friends.

“We’re just studying, something you idiots should be doing. Now get out, you’re distracting us.” Remus’s voice was hard, protective. It left you speechless and confused.

“Yeah, whatever,” Sirius mumbled before turning and rushing out of the dorm. The other boys followed, slamming the door behind them.

“What the hell was that about?” You couldn’t stop the question from leaving your lips.

Remus exhaled deeply and started scribbling his notes. “Nothing, let's just finish this so we can get out of here.”

You didn’t object this time and the two of you worked in silence for the next half hour. But as you worked you couldn’t stop your internal question that was far from the boring Giant War. What was going on with the other Marauders?

~~~

From that day on your dynamics with the other Marauders changed. Before it had been as if you were almost part of the group. You could run around in the dorm in your underwear as you play fought with Sirius, you could hug Peter as tight as you wanted when he was being his cute self, and you could feel completely normal when James would drape his arm over your shoulders as the two of you joke around. After that night, however, everything was different.

They didn’t act as your brothers anymore. They were distant and cold. Remus told you they were just ‘going through a change’ but you couldn’t understand what that change was. With their change came a few changes from Remus as well. He was more protective of you. Whenever everyone hung out, he made sure to always have an arm around you, or he made a show of kissing you in front of his friends. Almost as if he was showing them, you were his. None of it made sense.

It wasn’t like Remus was upset with his friends. Every time you caught him with the boys, he was acting the same as he always had before. It seemed the only time things were different was when you were around.

Quickly you became insecure. What had you done to upset them? You couldn’t think of anything you’d done that could’ve been perceived as offensive or rude. Sure, you made some comments that could’ve slightly been harsh, but that was just your sense of humor, especially with the boys. Without any answers you tried to push your sadness away, what else could you really do?

That was until the fateful night all the answers were revealed to you.

It was a normal Friday night. Like usual after dinner, you made your way up to the boys' dorm to see Remus. Before their strange behavior, you would also spend some time with the other Marauders but as of recently, that wasn’t really an option. So, when you knocked on their door you heard their laughter die down and eventually come to a complete end when Peter opened the door.

“Oh, um it’s Y/N,” Peter said nervously, glancing behind him at the other boys.

You put on a big smile. “Hi Pete, can I come in?”

“Y-Yeah.” He opened the door wider and you entered.

The air in the room was thick and uncomfortable. Sirius and James looked at you with their newfound confusing faces. Remus however welcomed you with a smile and motioned for you to go to him. You made quick notice of the open half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey on one of their nightstands, and the overpowering smell of weed. You sat next to Remus on his bed awkwardly, the other boys' eyes making you nervous.

“How’s your night going love?” Remus asked after placing a quick kiss on your forehead. He was drunk, you could tell.

“Um good... Marls, Lily, and Mary were planning on going out to the Black Lake to some little party the Hufflepuffs are throwing.” You turned to look at the other boys. “I’m surprised you guys aren’t already there.”

“We were going to make an appearance,” Sirius said, not a hint of his usual playfulness in his voice.

“Yeah, they just wanted to get some alcohol in their systems before since whatever they have down there probably will be half gone,” Remus replied with a snort.

You nodded. “Right... makes sense.”

Remus nodded too and moved to grab their bottle. With a smirk, he offered it to you. “Have some darling, we’ve all had our share already.”

“I don’t know if that’s good for me you know how I get when I drink,” you said cautiously. The feeling of all their eyes on you made your face burn.

“Oh, but that’s exactly what I want tonight,” Remus countered, his words suggestive.

You blushed harder and took the bottle, taking a shot before you could stop yourself. The burn was familiar, but still left a sour expression on your face. Remus grinned and wrapped an arm around you, pressing another soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me Lupin? Not a very good look on your part.” You laughed.

“I wouldn’t need alcohol to get you into bed with me, if anything those blokes would.”

You froze, your eyes darting around the room at his remark. The other boys, clearly drunk as well didn’t say anything. What was going on? You pushed away from Remus, a questioning expression on your face.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Remus only pulled you closer and ran one of his hands up and down your thigh. “Nothing sweetness, only that my best mates want to shag my girlfriend.”

Your eyes went wide. “W-What?”

“Moony!” James snapped.

“Don’t pretend it’s not true Prongs,” Remus mumbled, his lips on your neck. “You lot have been fantasizing about her these past few weeks. It’s all right, I would too if she wasn’t my girl already.”

You were too stunned to speak. Judging by the looks on all their faces, mixed with how casual your boyfriend was speaking about it, you knew it was true. It made you uncomfortable, you didn’t want to be in that room anymore. That’s why they’d been acting so off. They wanted to shag you.

“Fuck off Moony,” Sirius said.

“You fuck off Pads. What great mates do I have right Y/N? They all want to experience what it’s like to fuck you. I’ll let you in on a secret lads, it’s fucking amazing. I mean look at her.” Remus pulled back and ran his eyes up and down your body. Though you were wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, you suddenly felt exposed. “Perfect. She’s perfect. You should see her without the clothes.”

“Remus,” you said sternly. “Stop.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Tell them to stop Y/N, they’re the ones who’ve made everything weird.”

“I just...” You stood up. “Can we leave? Please?”

Remus only tisked and stood up beside you. He looked at all his friends, disappointment clear on his face. “Great going boys, you’ve made her uncomfortable.”

“We didn’t do anything!” Peter exclaimed.

“We’ve barely spoken to her since... well...” James added on.

“Since you decided to fuck her with your damn drapes open.” Sirius finished. He took a swig from the bottle. “What did you think was going to happen huh? We wouldn’t hear and imagine things?”

You could barely breathe. All you could do was walk through the dorm, your eyes burning with tears. You didn’t listen to their conversation or even the sound of Remus’s voice calling your name. You needed to get out of there, and you did. You ran down to the common room and out of the Gryffindor area completely.

The knowledge of what those boys were thinking made you sick to your stomach. How could they think such awful things? You’d thought your relationship with them was clear. They were like your brothers and you, their sister. Never had any dirty thoughts including a Marauder besides Remus crossed your mind. But as you ran outside in the chilly air, all you could think of was exactly that. It almost made you vomit.

Finding Lily, Marlene, and Mary helped slightly. The party was small but there were enough people to distract you from what had transpired only moments before. As did the vodka you drank.

“Wait so they’ve been acting like that all because they heard you and Remus shagging?” Marlene asked.

The four of you sat by the lake, discussing what had happened. Though you all had been drinking, you were clearly the most drunk. It was obvious by the way you were laid out on the grass, groaning continuously as you tried to forget everything.

“Yes,” you slurred. “And they’ve been... thinking of what I’m like when I.... oh Merlin, I can’t even say it.”

“You don’t have to it’s okay,” Lily spoke as she patted one of your shoulders.

“I just want to forget any of this ever happened.” You lifted your head to look around. “Where’s the alcohol?”

“Love you’ve had enough.” Mary laughed.

“But I’m still thinking! I want to never think again!” You groaned.

“Take a hit off my joint, it’ll probably help or at least get you high,” Marlene suggested as she blew out a cloud of smoke, offering the joint to you.

“Anything to get rid of these thoughts.”

It was unclear how much time passed when Remus suddenly appeared where you were lying with the girls. You were crossed and you felt amazing. Marlene was arguing with Mary about Quidditch while Lily softly spoke to you about a book she was reading. It was perfect and peaceful. So, when Remus appeared standing over you, you grinned.

“Hi, Remmy! I’ve missed you!” You exclaimed.

“How much has she taken?” His voice sent tingles throughout your body.

“I dunno maybe five shots? Then a few puffs of my weed which may I say is far better than yours,” Marlene answered.

“Oh, Rem take me!” You sprawled out on the cold grass. “Right here, ravage me. We haven’t shagged in ages. I need it.”

“Don’t think that’s smart love. Many more guys will be thinking of you if I do that.” Remus chuckled.

You rubbed your hands over your face. “Stop! Stop! I’ve forgotten and you’ve brought it back.”

“How many drinks have you had Remus?” Lily questioned. “You’re swaying.”

“That’s not important, my girlfriend needs me.”

Remus bent down and took your hands in his, without a struggle he lifted you to a standing position. You leaned on him, barely able to stand on your own. A giggle left your lips as you looked up at him, he was so tall, so handsome. Your drunken state made your normal thoughts so much worse. At that moment, he was magnetic. You absolutely needed to touch him, to be around him.

“Take me to your dorm, please,” you mumbled, your face buried in his sweater. The scent of his cologne alone could’ve killed you right then and there. It was perfect, he was perfect. Your perfect boyfriend.

“Let’s go, I saved you a fag,” he replied.

As the two of you began to stumble back toward the castle you heard Marlene’s voice saying something along the lines of, “You two are definitely going to do more than smoke a fag.”

Right, she was. The second the two of you miraculously got back into his dorm you were all over each other. Despite his slow warm kisses, you were a panting mess practically in the palm of his hand. You moved mindlessly, falling back onto his mattress as if it were a sixth sense. Your shirt was gone before you hit even the edge of the bed, as was Remus’s sweater. As you laid back, he stood in front of you removing your jeans clumsily.

“Fucking hell these are glued to you,” he said annoyed.

You giggled and lifted your hips to help. “I thought they made my ass look good.”

“Oh, they do. Still a pain to get them off though,” he replied.

“Hey! They make me like a treat you have to unwrap be grateful I’m letting you get a taste,” you countered.

When he finally pulled them off, he leaned over you and connected your lips in another deep kiss, making all the playful thoughts in your head disappear once again. His hands gripped your hips before slowly moving to slide your panties down your legs, with much more ease than with your jeans.

“Well, you definitely are sweet like a treat,” he whispered against your lips.

You moaned at his comment, pulling his belt undone as he trailed his kisses down your neck and collarbone. His lips were hot, practically stinging your skin each time they touched you. Getting his jeans off was much easier than your own and soon enough he was hovering over you on his bed, his fingers buried deep inside you.

To say you were wet would be an understatement. You were soaked. His fingers worked you magically as if he knew your body better than you did. Rubbing your clit just the way that drove you mad, hitting that exquisite spot inside you with his long fingers that made your toes curl. Though the two of you were a rushing drunken mess, he still took the time to please you, he always did. That only made you fall more and more in love with him each time.

Given how eager you were to feel him inside you, you eventually pulled his hand away from you and flipped the position. Sitting on top of him you kissed him, your lips wet and messy. Without another word, you relieved him of his boxers and stroked his painfully hard cock. The way he sucked in a sharp breath at your touch only made you yearn for him more. Quickly you lifted yourself and positioned his tip right where it needed to be.

You moved aimlessly, the feeling of him stretching you causing your breathing to quickly turn into soft pants. He held on to your hips, the feeling of his nails digging into your soft skin made you squirm. Despite the numerous times you’d done this before, feeling him guiding you only made it better. And when he sat up and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you as if even an inch of space would cause him pain, you nearly whined.

“Oh Remus,” you breathed your lips by his ear. “Merlin, I love you.”

He trailed one of his hands up your back and pulled on your hair, causing your head to fall back and a whimper to leave your lips.

“I love you too,” he whispered between moans.

Your skin flushed; you felt as though you had a fever from just how hot the room was. Because you were so caught up in your desire, you couldn’t hear the shuffling around the room. All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart and Remus’s drunken mumbles. Your fingers traveled down his back, gripping him tightly as he matched your rhythm. His cock going so deep it hurt. You couldn’t get enough of it.

There was a noise, something was knocked over across the room. You didn’t care to look, too distracted by how good Remus was making you feel. He noticed, however, and you felt his lips curl up into a smirk on your shoulder.

“Love it seems we have an audience,” he mumbled.

You hummed, too drunk to care. “Don’t stop. Let them watch.”

“Oh, I plan to.”

Effortlessly he flipped your position once again. Your body was pressed into the mattress rough as Remus began to relentlessly pound into you. You almost screamed, your back arching as he took you hard. He licked up your neck, causing you to shudder and claw at his back. That position didn’t last long though.

Soon enough, he moved you again. Bringing you up onto all fours as he continued his fast pace. Your face pressed into his pillow, but even that couldn’t stifle the moans and whimpers that left you. His grip on your hips was even harder then, no doubt going to leave bruises tomorrow. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room, as did your heaving, and his moaning.

It wasn’t long before you felt that familiar knot building deep in your core. You ached for a release and you knew Remus was going to give you that and more. The anticipation within you grew as you felt him slap your ass and pull your hair again.

“Fuck, fuck. Yes, Rem, I’m gonna cum don’t stop,” you whined.

Remus tugged harder on your hair; it made you practically scream from pleasure. “Cum for me Y/N, just me.”

“Just you fuck I’m yours I’m yours.” You babbled, drunk on more than just the alcohol at that point.

“All mine,” he said between pants.

You clenched around him as you came undone, his name the only coherent thing to leave your lips. His pace didn’t stutter for even a moment, even as he came too. It only made your orgasm better. When he was sure you were done, he was moving to pull out but you stopped him.

“Rem can we...” You paused to swallow hard, wiping the sweat from your forehead with a weak hand. “Can we stay like this a little longer?”

He chuckled lightly as he tried to catch his breath. “Yeah, yeah of course.”

Without pulling out, he shifted to lay beside you, pulling you on top of him. You laid your head on his chest as you calmed down, the sound of his heartbeat slowing down helping you even out your breathing. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight. You were both a sweaty mess but you didn’t care, everything felt perfect as it was.

After a few minutes when you came back to your senses, you asked him, “What did you mean by audience?”

“Oh,” Remus lifted his head to look over you. “We didn’t close the curtains. Are you boys going to say thank you for the performance?”

You turned to look in the same direction only to find James, Sirius, and Peter staring, the tents in their trousers quite noticeable. Your face turned red and you buried it in Remus’s chest, pulling his sheet over your body for protection.

“Uh, round of applause?” Sirius spoke weakly.

At least their fantasies were fulfilled you thought to yourself as Remus laughed.

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? Part 6

In which things are made official (finally)

Warnings: little angst, social media posts Pairing: Lando Norris x SainzSister!reader Word Count: 1.4k words

- What's A Soulmate? - Part 1 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2.5 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 3 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 4 - What's a Soulmate? - Part 5 - Master List

Monaco May 2024

Sunlight streams in through the partially parted curtains of Lando’s bedroom the next morning. Your entire body is warm, wrapped up in the thick duvet that covers his king sized bed. The soft cotton of the t-shirt Lando gave you last night brushes against your skin, not unlike the way he touched you last night. 

He had just popped out to the cafe that was down the block from his apartment to get you breakfast, as he had absolutely nothing other than a few sweet potatoes in his fridge, one of which smelled suspiciously of vodka. The moment alone allowed you to fully soak in the sore feeling that radiated up from between your legs to the rest of your body. The delicious languid stretch that you felt when you moved even just the slightest bit reminded you of how Lando had played your body so well last night, like he’d been worshipping you for his entire life. 

You lazily reach for your phone just as you hear the front door click open.

 “I’m back.” Lando calls out and you grin, enjoying the way your heart flutters at the sound of his voice, still a little gritty from sleep. 

Instagram is your first choice, watching the private stories of your friends from last night, recapping what you had missed after you and Lando ditched the party. And then you come across a suggested post on your feed and your entire world stops for a moment. 

“Uh…Lan?” Panic dances at the edge of your voice as stare at the photo.

“What’s wrong?” As he rounds the corner, you see he’s holding two to go coffee cups from the cafe that’s down the street from his condo, a look of concern furrowing his brow when he sees the panicked look on your face. 

You flip your phone around to show him the post you’d been sent by a friend in London this morning. It’s a post from an F1 gossip account and it’s a picture from Lando taking you home last night, the two of you very obviously together as more than friends. Embarrassment flames at your cheeks as Lando crosses the room to take a look.

F1GossipNews: Fans in town for the Monaco Grand Prix this weekend caught some interesting shenanigans on the streets of Monte Carlo last night. McLaren driver Lando Norris was spotted outside the Hermitage Hotel last night with none other than Carlos Sainz's little sister and from the several reports we've recieved, they were looking VERY cozy together with Lando even carrying the Spanish McLaren employee at one point. As we all know, these two have been friends for years but have never outright confirmed that they were anything other than just that. We have to wonder what it'll take for these two to go public now??? user928 anyone who follows F1 knows that these two have been in love with each other for YEARS. Thank God they're finally realizing it themselves. user9827 i'll always feel bad for that one girl he dated a few years ago. it feels like there was always 3 people in that relationship. i guess she was right to be jealous >>>user8272 i always heard she was the cause of their breakup. confirmed ig. >>>user0388 oh come on, they've been broken up for TWO YEARS. get a life. touch some grass. user023828 MOM AND DAD MADE IT OFFICIAL. MY LIFE IS COMPLETE.

You hadn’t had a chance to talk about what last night had meant yet and your heart hammered in your chest at the possible rejection. It was still possible that he changed his mind, wasn’t it? That this morning while he had gone out to get breakfast, the space had given him a chance to have second thoughts. You knew that Lando was intensely private about his personal life, hating the way gossip accounts and fans sunk their teeth into any bit of gossip they could get their hands around. 

Fans had tried to link the two of you early on when you were friends and Lando always got so angry when that particular rumor would start swirling again. How was he going to react now that this photo, where you both had been identified by name. Sure, you had shared that one photo of his hand low on your back last night but you couldn’t see his face. This was different. There was a video too, attached to the gossip post and you could clearly hear his thick British accent and your unmistakable laugh floating through the background of the video. 

Lando sits down at the foot of the bed with your phone in his had. A smirk plays on his face as he watches the video for the third time, hand reaching out to stroke your toes that now sit in his lap. When he looks up though, his smile fades and matches your anxious one. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears threaten to spill. 

Lando is fully confused by your reaction. “What do you have to be sorry about?” 

“They caught us. I know how private you are, how you don’t want to be linked to anyone unless it’s serious. I should have been more careful, Brenda is going to fucking kill me if you don’t. Oh God, Lan. I’m so sorry.” You ramble, twisting the sheets beneath you out of sheer anxiety.  

You remember the rant he went off on before he had started officially dating the girl that ended up ripping you two apart. It had somehow been leaked to the press that they were together and Lando had felt pressured to make it official with her after that. What you didn’t know was that it hadn’t been the press that had made him feel pressured, it had been the girl. She had pushed and pushed, saying that it would ruin her reputation if nothing came of the gossip posts and he had just gone along with it. 

“Hey, there’s no need to panic. Come here.” Lando reaches out to gather you up in his arms, smiling at the fact that you’re still wearing the t-shirt he had given you last night before you two fell asleep. “Why are you freaking out? It’s fine if the press publishes this stuff.” 

“I just…” You struggle to comprehend what he’s saying to you. He’s not mad? “I just know how much you hate the press in your private life. How angry you got when they found out about…her. We hadn’t talked about what this means and I just didn’t want you to feel forced or anything.” 

Lando pulls you further into his lap, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. God, this was his favorite place now, with how soft the skin at your neck is and always smelling like your perfume no matter the time of day. He was so glad he got to fully indulge in it now and didn’t have to hide how deep his feelings for you were. 

“I do hate the press in my private life, you’re right but I also very much want to shout from the rooftops that I finally get to kiss the love of my life whenever I want. I’m sorry if I didn’t make it clear to you last night, but you’re it for me pretty girl.” He leans in then, brushing your temple with his lips before dragging them down the line of your jaw, fingers gripping at your hips to pull you even closer. “It’s always been you, pretty girl. Always. Be mine forever?”

“You don’t even have to ask, Lan. I’ve been yours for a long time now.”   

If your heart could have exploded in your chest, you wouldn’t have been surprised. You hadn’t really known, hadn’t really realized how much you’d needed to hear Lando say those words until now. You’d spent the better part of five years shoving your feelings for him down so deep in a desperate attempt to accept the fact that maybe all you two would ever be was friends. It was dizzying knowing that that wasn’t going to be the case now and you struggled to wrap your head around it. 

“I can’t go around telling you how much I love and adore you in private and hide those feelings in public. I don’t want to.” To emphasize his point, he grabs his phone out of his back pocket and swipes to open Instagram. You watch with mild amusement as he scrolls through some of the photos he took last night before he lands on one where he’s got you slung over his shoulder, not unlike the gossip post, but this one is in his hallway after he took you home. He types out a caption before handing it over to you for your approval. 

Laughter spills out of your lips as you read it before you look up at him. “This is quite bold, are you sure you want to be this…open?” 

Lando nods, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m about to be so obnoxious about the fact I finally landed you. How else is everyone in the paddock going to know you’re spoken for now? Max fucking Verstappen better stop texting you now or else I’m going to run him into the bloody wall on Sunday.” 

“Lando Norris!” You scold, swatting him on the shoulder while you both dissolve in giggles. 

“Go on, I know you want to post something too. Although I suspect that story you posted last night of me and you in the elevator was what sparked people to look for other clues. They’ve been trying to ship us for years.” 

You blush under the accusation but you know it’s all in good fun. Fear and anxiety gone from your body you reach for your phone again to make your own post. Lando gives his nod of approval and you both post the photos simultaneously and then grinning, you leave your phones in the bedroom as you enjoy the rest of your morning before you have to be on track later for media day. 

You two didn’t earn the nickname Chaos Gremlins for nothing.  

LandoNorris Confirmed. (tagged: LittlestSainzSis, F1GossipNews) CarlosSainz you'd better take care of her or else you'll end up in a gravel pit. LittlestSainzSis love you darling >>>(liked by landonorris) McLaren IT'S ABOUT TIME >>>user928 even admin knew these two idiots were in love before they did. user0292 oh my GOD he tagged the gossip account. HAHAH >>>user92828 he is down BAD for our girl user0332 if you look closely in the background, you can see me laying down in the middle of the highway. >>>user928 srsly. this post called me single in seven different languages. user02828 god they're so hot together

LittlestSainzSis cat's out of the bag, ig ;) (tagged: LandoNorris) user0292 god they're perfect LandoNorris love you, pretty girl >>>(liked by littlestsainzsis) McLaren our favorite papaya couple finally official!! >>>user0383 admin's been rooting for this ship just as much as the rest of us. user029921 legit the hottest looking couple on the grid, fight me.

the end.

IDK why half of the tag list isn't working but if for some reason you're not being tagged (it says you are when I'm editing the post but it doesn't show up live when I publish it) make sure your settings are fixed on your end or maybe it's just bc i'm a new blog and i can't tag this many? idk but i'll keep trying to fix it!! you can also turn on post notifs for me if you want!)

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for anon

Request: I’d like to do a werewolf male. Typical bulk big dicked guy. I want him to have a chubby human female as his mate. She is nervous to have sex because he is so massive, so he “warms her up” with fingers turned fisting. I would like it to be soft and gentle, a dom slowly stretching his sub and praising them along the way type deal. Obviously it’s going to be painful for her but praise and loving touches help

A/N: Hope you enjoy this story, it was very fun to write. :)

Sex induced coma

Werewolf x fem!reader || size kink, fisting, praise kink, dom/sub (light), edging, dirty talk

When you started dating your werewolf boyfriend, you knew intimacy was going to be hard between you two. But as a surprise to both of you, it wasn’t.

Well, mostly.

He loved to eat you out, to the point of having you coming and coming and coming for hours to an end, your body tired from orgasms, but unable to resist his clever tongue and hot grunts as you gushed around his mouth.

In the same way, you loved going down on him, even though the first time you saw his dick you were literally speechless, staring into a huge cock that could barely fit between your hands. He was massive… and you were a big size queen, who could blame you?

He refused to fuck you, he said it was dangerous, he would never fit, you were too small to fit…, and you understood his reasoning… but you didn’t share his opinion. So you persevered, you asked and begged to be fucked any chance you got. You asked with his fingers inside of you, you asked with his clever tongue against your pearl, and you asked with your little human tongue against his huge cock...

And he denied you over and over, but you knew he was starting to reconsider. You asked over and over again, and you knew he was starting to give in when he smiled at you when you asked. When he teased your pussy for hours, trying to fit another finger inside as you came messily around them.

And then he gave in and indulged in your shared pleasure. He laid you on the bed and got to it, smiling like a wolf as he watched you tremble under his hungry eyes. “Are you ready for this?” He asked.

You struggled to get the words out as his fingers made the first contact with your shivering cunt. “Ngh- yes.” You pushed your hips against his hand and he frowned, but his lips twitched, trying to hide a smile.

“None of that, little minx. You take them as I please, you are not in control here, are you?” His voice was amused and you could see the edge of his mouth twitching, trying not to smile. “Answer,” he pressed his thumb against your clit intently.

You looked at him, your eyes unfocused because of the pleasure. “N-no. You are.”

“I am what?” He asked again.

“In control. You are in control.” You assured him, your body shivering at his commanding tone. You didn’t know you liked him being in control as much as you did, it was intoxicating in the best way possible.

“Good girl.” His praise made your pussy twitch around his fingers and he chuckled.

He started a slow finger fucking, way too slow for your desperate cunt. You needed more, you wanted more. But he already told you, you had no control over what happened, over what he did or what pace he took. And the fact that you were at his mercy only drove you further into your pleasure.

You moaned and groaned, asking for more. Pleading for more. Little by little he stretched you, stopping every time you felt like you were about to cum, kissing trails across your stomach as he distracted you from your pleasure. Just to start all over again.

He kept teasing your G-spot with his wide fingers until you were sweating and your legs were trembling like crazy. Your pleasure was so high you couldn’t stop chanting, a chorus of ah ah ah leaving your mouth at every movement of his two fingers inside of you. His fingers were wide and long, you felt so full... almost to the point of pain.

And he didn’t stop talking, “you are going to feel like a dream around my cock, aren’t you?” You moaned in response, unable to form words with three fingers inside of you.

In and out, in and out. Driving you to the edge and stopping. Building up to an orgasm and leaving you dry as your pussy quivered around his fingers and your pussy leaked around his hand. You were drenched by the time he pushed another finger inside. The fourth was a big stretch, your pain and pleasure mixing. He scissored them inside, opening you up, caressing parts of you didn’t know existed.

“You are so tight, good goddess… A bit more darling, I know it’s a bit painful but you can take it. Come on, one more.” And then you felt his fifth finger slipping inside. The stretch was so awesome you felt a gush of juices dripping around his fingers, probably soaking his whole wrist. You couldn’t even be embarrassed, it was so hot you could only moan in ecstasy as he grunted and asked you to breathe.

When he pushed in his knuckles, and then his whole fist, you screamed his name so loud you were almost sure your whole neighborhood heard you. You felt stretched to the extreme, and his grunts were only making it better. “Such a good girl, taking my fist so well, you are so tight around me, such a pretty pussy taking me so well…” His words were borderline non-sense, but you couldn’t even understand him properly, your pleasure too high, too intense.

And when you were about to reach an orgasm…

He took out his hand, and you screamed. Your hands flying to his wrist to ask him for more. But then you felt the tip of his cock against your stretched hole. After all his teasing, you could barely be coherent when you asked: “Are you… are you gonna?”

He smiled at you sweetly, your whole body trembling in anticipation and pent up frustration. “Yes, darling. Are you ready?”

“Please,” was the only word you could get out.

He pushed inside of you slowly, his dick breaching your stretched pussy. You were glad you took his fist, because it was already a stretch to fit his length inside of you. “You are doing so well, such a good girl for me. You are taking me so well.” His words of encouragement made you preen, sweaty and on edge of the greatest orgasm of your life as he kept going further and further.

The moment he bottomed out, both of you screamed in ecstasy, the feeling like nothing else you’d ever felt. His face contorted with pleasure, pleasure you were giving him as you tightened around his length. He felt incredibly big, and you still felt so tight around him that you felt the veins of his shaft pulsating against your inner walls. It was exhilarating and your brain was rapidly losing focus as he started a slow pace.

“I’m not- I’m not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunted between short hard thrusts.

“I- I’m…”

You didn’t even finish that thought before you were screaming his name loud enough to wake up every single bird in the surrounded area, probably your neighbors across town, too. But you didn’t care. The orgasm washed over you like the sun hitting snow. It was mind-blowing and full body pleasure that drove you into the next dimension, one where pain and pleasure were the same and you couldn’t get enough of either.

You came down to your body as he kept thrusting, his non-sense a mix of “how good”, “how pretty”, “so tight and wet”… He was completely gone on his own pleasure, driving you further and further into the race for a second orgasm. His soaked hand found your clit, and his thumb caressed your pearl until your eyes rolled back into your head.

The first shot of come inside of you drove you over the edge, his howling matching your screams. Your orgasm hit you like a brick, leaving you breathless as the world faded and your pussy filled with his seed. There was so much of it, it overflowed your pussy, gushing around his length still buried deep inside of you. It was the best feeling in the universe and your brain could barely process all the pleasure rushing through your body at the same time.

He was kissing your forehead when your neurons got connection back. “Totally doing it again,” you whispered before you fell asleep into a sex-coma with his chuckles as a background sound.

[magnificentstrawberryomen]

warm and alive (noah sebastian x reader one shot)

18+, mdni, sexual talk, smut, f oral receiving, p and v unprotected (wrap it before u tap it ;))

it was late in the evening, and the dark had already taken over the sky. the puffs of air escaping from my lips raised up in the air, disappearing like smoke around me. it was cold outside, making me bury my hands deeper in the pockets of my black coat, that was despite the furry layer on the inside failing to keep me warm tonight.

music was blasting through my ears, distracting me and keeping me company on my walk home. despite my mind always wandering off because of the melodies and lyrics creating images inside my mind because i loved to daydream, i was focused enough to also be in enough touch of my surroundings and get into my street safely.

as i looked around me, the apartment building across from my own had several lights on in different windows. most were just the classic warm yellow one, and some had different colors, like red, pink or blue. my eyes dart around, and pause at a certain window. a tall figure, belonging to a young man, leans on his open window with both his elbows, as long drags of his cigarette escapes from his mouth. he was fully covered in all kinds of colored, mostly faded tattoos. i had never seen him before, he must have just moved in here, since the apartment was empty for a week or two.

his dark eyes landed back down on me, making contact, looking intrigued and interested as they were slightly narrowed, taking in my physique quickly. his dark chocolate, mid long hair was slightly pushed back, just a strand hanging in front of his eyes, and a tight black tee shows how well trained his arms and chest were. it made my heart jump for a moment, and my throat turned slightly tighter because of some nerves kicking in, a small flutter going through my stomach.

there was absolutely no denying that this man was extremely attractive, and by the way his lips that were going back around his cigarette turned into a slight smirk he clearly noticed my slightly more nervous behavior, and i quickly looked down again, eyes stuck on the concrete tiles underneath my feet, even though they rather stayed on the man instead, completely captivated by him already.

and we both didn't seem to be able to forget that short moment of observation. the following week, every time i'd come home back from work he'd be there again, hanging out the window, sometimes sitting on his windowsill with one leg hanging out whilst smoking, the other one stretched out in front of him. every single time, we would make eye contact. every day it would be longer, by looking at him earlier as i crossed my street. the more we did it, the less shy i became, not letting my eyes dart away that easily like i did before. he pulled me in like some magnet, with a strong electric force, and it did more and more with me each time.

blushing, a rapid heartbeat---and breathing even at some point, as i became more and more hypnotized by his longing stare---trembling legs, stomach in knots and heat in my chest, but most of all, a very frustrating feeling between my goddamn thighs as well. and the longer we would stare, the quicker and stronger it was there.

and he absolutely knew, because he would lick his lips, he would take a longer drag of his cigarette, rolling it around between his long wise and middle finger, and his eyes became darker and more intense. they would take in every step, every inhale, every movement of my curves, every outfit i'd wear, the way my hair was styled that day, the way i was batting my lashes at him.

we longed for each other, but still wouldn't say a word.

one evening, as i once again grew tired of the hooks of my bra pressing uncomfortably against my back, i decided to take it off, something i always do after a long day of work. as i walked towards the window of my bedroom to close the curtains, my heart made a big jump---he was there. right in my view, right across my own window, facing me as well.

a lump appeared in my throat, and he stared right back. his window was closed now, and he was not hanging out of it as usual with a cigarette in hand---instead it seemed like he was just about to close his own curtains as well. we were literally mirroring the same pose, having our curtain in hand, but pausing as soon as our eyes met. my heart was hammering, and he was just staring, as if he was waiting, waiting for my next move---almost daring me to make a move.

and then, as heat was spreading not only to my cheeks but also my whole entire body, i took off my shirt, letting it drop to the ground, revealing my bra i was about to take off next. the corners of his mouth slowly and slightly curled up, eyes narrowing as usual, taking in the sight of my chest in the black lace. one corner of my lips couldn't help but twitched up as well---sultry like, mischievous wise.

then, i slowly slid the straps off my shoulders, and it almost looked like that made his breath hitch in his throat for a moment. one of my hands slowly got behind my back, the daring glimmer of my own eyes never leaving his, unclasping it. the lace fell to the ground, revealing my chest to him, and that made one of his brows rise in amusement, his pupils seeming to get darker somehow, blending in with the color of his irises.

my smile slightly widened as i took in his little needy expression, his eyes ranking down as if he wished he could take the rest off me as well, and i then closed the curtains---letting a big shaky breath escape from my lips that i pulled between my teeth next.

fuck, that excited me a lot, and i saw his lustful eyes in front of me still, as i closed my own. my lips then slightly parted as more heavy breathing escaped, feeling worked up, feeling desperate. desperate for my mysterious and attractive neighbor to do something about it, instead of my trembling fingers that went down slowly.

but after a few minutes, i then heard some loud knocking on my door downstairs, making me open my eyes and jumping me awake out of my steamy trance. a frustrated sound escaped my mouth as my heart hammered in my chest, quickly putting on a robe as i made my way down stairs, wondering who needs me at this time after work.

when i opened the door, i needed to tightly hold the door handle for support of not stumbling backwards, as i met the two dark brown eyes of the neighbor from across the street now standing in front of me. and god, he was even taller like this, making me need to tilt my head up to him, my eyes taking him in quickly before doing so. he was wearing a loose tank top with sweats underneath despite the weather, and his muscular, tattooed arms were being exposed even more, and a part of his just as tattooed chest as well.

'good evening,' his deep, slightly hoarse voice greeted me from the cold, chilly air outside, both making me slightly shiver. his eyes slowly ranked to my robe, being slightly loose because of the quick knot i had to make to hold the thin, light blue fabric together. the corner of his mouth slightly tugged up because of that, his stare like fire burning right through me, before meeting my gaze again.

'i had to stop by after that little show you did for me,' he then continued, his hands in the pocket of his sweats as he slightly tilted his head to the side, which made it hard for me to function properly, to get out my first words to him as smoothly as he seemed to be able to talk to me.

i cleared my throat and took in a quiet, shaky breath before answering with a slow smug expression appearing on my flustered face, 'for you? that's interesting. i think you were just lucky to be there at that moment. always take my bra off after a long day of work.'

he hummed at that with an amused twinkle and smile on his face. 'is that so? well, guess you can call me really lucky then,' he smirked, not seeming to believe my words, and my own grin turned wider as i leaned my head against the door, still holding it.

'so you're saying that i came here for disappointment? can't expect you to continue it, hm?' he then added, and i softly chuckled. the chemistry between us was thick, strong and heated already, leaving me aching for more, aching how much more needy i could get him for me, how much more he could worship my body by just his lustful stare.

'oh, i didn't say that,' i then responded, stepping slightly more aside, a gesture that he could come in. as he was about to enter with a smug and amused glimmer in his eyes still, i then quickly stepped in front of him, gently placing my small hand on his chest, which caused him to raise both his eyebrows in question.

'at least tell me your name, neighbor.' my hand slowly removed itself from his chest by going up and down first, his eyes flickering down at it, before then meeting my own again with a intrigued smirk.

'noah,' he answered, and i clicked my tongue.

'y/n,' i introduced myself back, and that made his smirk only broaden, the twinkle in his eyes growing even more, as if he knew he would enjoy using my name for whatever dirty fantasies he was holding captured inside his mind.

'well, y/n, your little relief for your back after your long day of work wasn't the only time i've noticed you, but you know that, noah then spoke, his husky voice closer to me now that he slowly stepped inside, closing the door behind him. the more steps he took, the more i became pressed against the wall.

'your little adorable walk every time you came home from work, all lost in your music, coming out of those black matching headphones of yours, matching your outfits', he continued, his body being towered over my smaller frame, and i gulped in both nerves and excitement, already clenching now and then by the way he looked down on me and spoke every word so sultry and deeply alone. 'so concentrated whilst pulling those gorgeous lips of yours between your teeth now and then.'

noah slowly moved his large hand to my chin, tilting my face even more up to him as he brushed my lips with his thumbs, seemed to be mesmerized by it, craving it. my legs have already begun to tremble in need of him, just by that small touch alone, and he seemed to be very amused by the way i reacted to it, as his devious smile grew bigger.

'and those skirts? don't you think they are a little short, darling? i mean, i am not complaining, but they drove me crazy all week. made me think of how great the view would be in front of me, just like those pretty tight jeans you're wearing right now.'

he slowly turned me around, causing me to let out a shaky breath of both excitement and anticipation, pushing me against the wall. he let out a deep, satisfied hum, practically feeling his stare burn through the fucking fabric. but as soon as his hands found my behind, squeezing it eagerly, he made me close to snapping completely more and more.

'fuck. feels even more firm than i imagined.' noah's voice sounded even more huskier than before, and shit, it made me even more aroused than i already was.

his hands slowly moved upwards, over the smooth fabric of my bathrobe, squeezing my chest even tighter than my ass, making me yelp out of surprise and pleasure. his lips already found my ear quickly after that, his hot breath fanning over it and my neck, his breathing fast and ragged.

'not gonna lie, i enjoyed our little eye fucking this week, but damn, the little sounds you make are even better darling,' he breathed, making me slightly whimper, his hands still holding my breasts firmly, his thumbs lightly rubbing over it. his hips were grinding against my behind, making me able to feel his own excitement grow.

'wonder what else i can bring out of you, and how, my pretty girl. you in? you want that?'

'yes,' i eagerly breathed out, and that made him turn me around in a quick movement, his own body being pushed flush against mine, before he then grabbed me by my legs, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around him, and held me steady in his strong arms as a mischievous, dark smile grew on his attractive face.

'yeah?' he cooed, his smug fucking smile only growing by that, and it made me want to crash my own lips against him, to make him breathless and even more eager for me. 'glad to hear that, my pretty neighbor. cause since the first time we made eye contact, i wasn't able to stop fantasizing about you.'

my cheeks flushed by hearing that, my heart rate sped up, my hands shaking by anticipation. 'really hm?' i couldn't help but slightly smirk in filthy amusement, and he mirrored it right away as he nodded.

'mhm. how could my cock not get hard by seeing you all small and needy for me down there on the street? surely had to do something about it each time,' he shrugged, and it knocked the breath out of me for a moment, the filthy words rolling off his tongue just like that. 'but this, oh darling this, is the best way to do something about those cravings for you.'

noah pressed his hard bulge even harder against my damp core, slightly rubbing, making the both of us groan and whimper.

'fuck baby, i don't know how you do it, but i already feel you eagerness through your jeans. so wet already hmm? so ready to be taken by me?'

i heavily nodded at that, pulling my teeth between my lips, and his dark eyes flickered down to it, before then hungrily capturing his own with mine. my own tongue immediately pushed through it, dancing with his, tasting the deliciousness of his need for me.

noah groaned as i pulled his hair as my hands found it, flushing his body even more against mine, before then breaking the kiss to look at me with heavy breathing, every being of him filled with lust and desire for me. 'where do you want to continue this, love?'

'use those trained muscles of yours and carry me upstairs,' i teased him with a sly smile, causing him to deeply chuckle with amusement before then doing what was said, and his quick pace took me to my queen-sized bed in no time.

he placed me down on it in a sitting position, kneeling down between my legs already quickly that he then pushed apart, a wicked smile on his face, painted by the light of the small lamp on the nightstand besides us, and the left overs of the dark of the room around us contoured the rest of his pretty features.

'let me taste you, y/n,' noah whispered hoarsely as his gaze got down to my pants, then back to me again, and i nodded, causing him to instantly begin to unbutton my jeans, pulling it off my legs, his eyes slightly widening at the sight of my thin, see through panties that covered my aching core.

'jesus,' he breathed after a gulp, 'you always wear this underneath?'

'not always,' i smirked, his eyes going back up to mine. 'you are just in luck. again.'

'fuck, yes i am,' he rasped out, his lean fingers slowly and teasingly rubbing up and down the thin lace fabric, which made me shift eagerly against the mattress underneath me with a slight groan. he smiled amusingly at that, looking at me for a moment with a mischievous glint before then tucking my panties down.

'gonna taste you real good y/n, every single inch, every single drop coming out of you, yeah?' noah mumbled, spreading my legs even more, a determined and hungry look on his face. 'have thought about this so much. fuck, can't imagine how good you'd feel wrapped around me, tight and warm.'

his words, combined by the way he looks at my eagerness and rubs and teases it slowly, his warm hands going up and down my thighs as well, makes me moan impatiently, making his lips twitch again, before then finally moving his head down---making fucking eye contact as he flicks his tongue slowly and lightly against me, and my head already quickly dropped back into my shoulders as a low groan escaped my throat.

the feeling of his tongue was amazing, better than i had imagined myself too, and worked slowly against my bud once more before then going deeper inside my slit, sucking and tasting me more intensely, and i was not shy to let him know how much i enjoyed it, the sounds of pure bliss surrounding us both. it made him moan against my clit, vibrating with even more pleasure, humming in appreciation of tasting me, in enjoyment of exploring every inch of me like he promised me he would.

'god,' he then groaned as he pulled back, his lips glinting with my arousal in the dim light, and it made my breathing sped up even more. 'i would love to make you cum like this, but i need to---have to feel you around my cock baby, need to bury me inside of you real deep.'

'please do, please take me,' i eagerly stammered out in between ragged breaths, and he got up and then pulled his tank top over his head in a fast and smooth movement, dropping his sweatpants next, his white underwear showing his need for me very clearly, and it made me even more needy for him.

'that's right baby, you got me so fucking hard for you,' he groaned as he noticed my eyes wandering down, dropping his underwear next, making them widen slightly, and i blinked to hide it quickly.

noah hovered over me as i moved my body up my bed to let my head rest against my comfortable pillow, and he positioned himself between my legs, feeling his length already teasing my entrance, and it caused me to buck my hips up in high anticipation, and it let his wicked grin return.

'such a eager little thing you are. ready to be taken by me, darling?'

i nodded as i breathed out a greedy yes, and his pretty brown eyes darkened even more, hypnotizing me as it made my head spin with need as well. he then pushed himself in, and i let out a harsh gasp as his eyes rolled back.

'jesus y/n. so fucking ready for me---' he started to move, his hands placed around both sides of my head, his hands digging into the fabric of my pillow, 'and feeling like a fucking delight. taking me so well.'

'noah,' i moaned out as my eyes shut, jaw dropped by the overwhelming sensations. it made him slip his tongue in as he pulled me into a passionate kiss, our moans and groans muffed by our lips.

'you cry my name so beautifully y/n, need to hear that more than just once. need to hear it as much as possible,' noah panted, trusting faster and deeper, creating a heavenly rhythm between our sweaty bodies, the sounds of our skin adding more heat for us like fuel lighting the flame.

and i cried his name out loud over and over again, like a prayer, like the one thing i only needed that moment, and it was true, he gave me everything i craved. he brushed my messy hair out of my face now and then, making our eye contact intense and strong, adding even more connection between us.

from that moment on, i knew that noah would become more than just my neighbor that captured my body and soul---he would become everything i needed and more, the only fire that would bring me warm and alive in these cold winter days.

[etclouie]

heyhey could i get the below prompt with daryl please? was hoping for commonwealth era but whatever you think suits it best

“Can you give me a massage?”. “No, because you moan really loud and our neighbours think we’re having sex.”

˚୨୧⋆｡ prompt/s; “Can you give me a massage?”. “No, because you moan really loud and our neighbours think we’re having sex.” — from 50 dialogue prompts

˚୨୧⋆｡ warnings; commonwealth era, established relationship, innuendo towards sex, possible ooc daryl

˚୨୧⋆｡ a/n; no comments

— celebrate 600 with me?

you’d dropped off Judith and Rj at the school in commonwealth to let Daryl sleep in a little, with the way he’s been overworking himself lately you thought he deserved the rest. 

getting home as he was tossing in bed, his groans of pain audible from the front door while you kicked off your shoes. 

moving throughout the small apartment and towards your shared room, standing in the doorway a minute while Daryl lay in the centre of the bed on his stomach. 

he was laying in a starfish position, your pillow under his head in what you assumed to be an attempt to have you close even when you were away from him— unable to help the laugh that left you at the sight of him. 

“you comfy?”

his head turned to glance at you over his shoulder, showing the way his lips were tugged into a pout before he shook his head. 

lifting his right hand to hold it out to you in a silent attempt for you to move closer, his voice gruff from its lack of use and his tiredness. 

“‘m in pain, need ya to make me feel better”

the familiar lilt in his voice made you giggle, moving towards the bed and sitting on the edge of it next to him. running your hand across his back and listening to him purr at the scratch of your nails across his back. 

“and how do you want me to do that?”

he almost snarled as if the answer was obvious, his eyes staying on your face as your fingers continued across the length of his back. 

“can you give me a massage?”

the laugh that pushed past your lips made his pout deepen, his head turning back into your pillow as he avoided your gaze. 

you both knew the answer to his question, memories of complaints from your neighbours flooding your heads. the first night you had moved in, you wanted to help soothe Daryl into the new environment just how you did with Alexandria.

the walls to your apartment were paper thin, every noise could be heard through them which made no way for privacy. every time you tried to have sex, it got interrupted by your very nosy and complaining neighbours. 

“no, because you moan really loud and our neighbours think we’re having sex”

he huffed at that, making you laugh again. standing from your space on the bed to lean in to press a kiss to his temple, watching as he softened slightly. 

some of the tension lifting from his shoulders, but the pout stayed on his face. he leaned up in an attempt to capture your lips, and practically moaning as your lips pressed against his. 

“you’re proving my point”

he rolled onto his side as you pulled away from his lips, pout still half drawn across his face as he watched you. 

running your fingers through his hair and brushing it out of his face, feeling his face nestle into your touch. 

“tha’s not fair”

he scoffed, though his words held no malice. he kept his face in your hand while your thumb soothed across his cheek, low purrs falling from his lips again. 

you loved when he got like this, simply wanting your touch and closeness. 

watching him turn onto his back before reaching his hands out to pull you into his side, one big hand on the back of your head to hold it against his shoulder. 

“least cuddle with me”

⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

hi blusy!! i have a G!P donna request to make...

following the canon events of resident evil village, ethan winters went to the beneviento estate to search for his daughter rose and comes across reader, donna's maid who is appointed to take care of the young winters for the the time being. donna, for some reason (i dunno what, you can fill this one kwnsisjsj) wasn't in the manor that time and so ethan didn't experience the hallucinations like he did in the game. ethan, relieved that he can finally get back his daughter, tries to talk the reader into handing her over. (just to be clear, rose is not in the jar like in the game. rose is actually still intact, like her actual baby body is there and reader is taking care of her) reader refused to do so but ethan insists. without any choice left, reader tries to run away from him, which enraged ethan. he chased reader around the manor, easily overpowering her since reader is not experienced in combat / donna felt like there was no need since she's just the maid.

(she's not actually just a maid because she's intimate with donna and they did have sex before... but donna is stubborn and won't confront her own feelings up to this point.)

when donna finally got home, she found reader cowering on one corner, covered in blood (not her blood but ethan's because she tries to fight him off) while ethan was on the verge of stabbing her to death with scissors.

so uhh.... i think you know what will happen next to ethan (hint: not so good) donna ignored his corpse and went straight to taking care of reader. reader assures her that she's fine and that the blood is not hers so donna calms down for a bit.

and thennnn yeah, smut time!!! :D

donna, terrified and pissed at the thought of almost losing reader to winters, calmed herself down by touching reader for a while. just touching, you know, the silly hands around the waist thing and whatever. but realizing that ethan touched reader way too much than she liked, even to the point of ruining reader's dress that she made herself, donna was pissed once more... and possessive. (wink wink)

Yesss!!! I hope it wasn't too dark... Thank you for request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

Her hidden heart

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut at the end, Minors DNI, dark themes, dark Donna, mental health issues, possessiveness, Donna being Donna, fluff, seriously, this is dark...

Word count: 8,543

Summary: She doesn't talk about her feelings, she will never do it...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

To say that you, or any maid in the village, were born to serve would be a lie.

The Black Gods ordered your life as they saw fit, often without taking into account stupid dreams or ambitions. You could have complained, protested, but you didn't. Being a maid wasn’t in your plans, but, you had no other plans.

You were a young girl. At 21 years old, nature gave you gifts that were apparently useless and that you found difficult to recognize: beauty, sweetness, kindness, goodness... all of those were characteristics that were possible separately, but never together in a single person.

You weren’t special, but you were strange.

None of your friends felt good about having to leave their home to work in the castle. You, however, accepted your fate in an optimistic way, without protest. After all, you weren’t leaving the village. You weren’t abandoning your family.

You would do it because you accepted your destiny; you accepted that the Black Gods granted you those skills, that beauty solely to serve.

What you didn’t expect was that you wouldn’t live surrounded by girls your age, dealing every day with Lady Dimitrescu and her eccentric whims. It took you a long time to get used to the idea of ​​being her maid, but the plans didn’t go as you wanted.

The castle wouldn’t become your home, but a place of passage for your next destiny, one that you didn’t believe possible. You wouldn’t serve the oldest Lord, but the youngest.

You could not reject that proposition, because it was what the Gods had in store for you.

Your destination was the forest, it was that dark mansion guarded by a waterfall, it was the house of the most mysterious Lord, of the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

The lady in black received you in silence, without saying a word, assuming that you already knew what you would have to do. In part you did know, and you let yourself be carried away by the inertia of what would be your profession, obeying in silence.

Every day, every night was the same in that place. Nothing changed, perhaps the shrill voice of the doll Angie had new words for you, but that figure in mourning continued walking like a ghost at your side, as if you didn’t even exist.

Comfort wasn’t exactly the word you had in mind when defining your stay at the estate, but discomfort wasn’t either. The days, the weeks passed quickly, like a blink, revealing only a glimpse of that black shadow.

Sometimes you wondered what would have happened if everything had remained the same, if nothing had changed; a heavy and annoying thought that you tried to push out of your head.

You barely knew the lady, no one was lucky enough to do so. You had heard horrible things, rumors, exaggerated descriptions, but none of that was comparable to seeing that black veil dance when she passed by you.

Donna was a taciturn, discreet woman, who refused to acknowledge that you were there even if she had asked for it. Luckily, your thoughts about an eternal routine were completely wrong.

Your elegant “my lady” was, with the first words you heard from the lady, transformed into a simple “Donna.” It could be an insignificant change.

Hearing that hoarse voice for the first time could have been a mistake, a small detail or a thank you gift for your work, but nothing of the sort. That melodic whisper was only the spark that lit a long fuse of events.

First her voice, then her face.

She didn't take off her veil in front of you. She didn't show you her beauty as an act of friendship or trust, no. Donna simply got up that morning and didn't bother to cover herself. She would never do that again.

Her words were more eager to come out of her lips and her single eye scrutinized your reaction to an act that seemed casual and natural. It wasn't.

Showing her face wasn't a reward for your work, but rather a test, the last one the lady needed in order, according to Angie, not to get rid of your annoying presence. Of course you only flattered her beauty despite her distrust of your words.

Yes, she was beautiful, terribly beautiful. That deformity on her face was only part of a capricious gift from the Black Gods, the price to pay for eternal life and the protection of Mother Miranda. At least that's how she saw it.

They were cold, trivial conversations, but more frequent. Talking to the lady allowed you to get to know her better, learn her tastes, some of her concerns. Maybe showing up before you was a test, but you were sure that talking to you, even with that cold tone, was not.

For a young and deluded girl like you, it wasn’t difficult to start feeling something for Donna. Her rare smile, the sparkle in her eye, her hair as black as night, her thin and apparently soft hands…

She was a strange woman. Her mind was damaged, loneliness danced around her like a sinister shadow, but you were always good at dancing to the tune of that melody of laments and tragedies.

As time went by, that beautiful smile was much more frequent, the cold conversations didn’t heat up, but they didn’t stop either. A relationship of trust wasn’t enough for those moments alone in which words sometimes flowed, and other times you just looked at each other in silence.

First her voice, then her face, her body.

If you had to give a reason for that afternoon in the workshop, you couldn't do it. Without warning, without being aware of the strange gleam in her eye, the words turned into kisses. They weren't sweet, they weren't tender; they were wild, desperate. You fulfilled one of your wishes, yes, you kissed the woman you had loved for more than a year.

It wasn't the beginning of something, it wasn't the beginning of a romantic relationship, it was a wish half fulfilled. Those deep, anxious kisses weren't covered in love, they weren't accompanied by confessions, only by gasps, only by eagerness to take you.

You realized that it wasn't just her face that was the victim of the Gods' games, that this gift from Mother Miranda brought with it a change in her body that could very well seem like a mockery to poor, lonely Donna.

You didn't care what the lady's last secret was, the cruel game that gave her body an unexpected and isolated change. You were a maid and you wanted to do it, you wanted to let yourself go, let her take you roughly at the table, take your innocence and finally claim you as hers.

Not a whisper, not a declaration, none of that accompanied Donna's carnal desires. She simply took what she wanted, what was hers, when she wanted, how she wanted.

Any maid would have accepted her fate, put her body at her mistress's disposal without thinking, without asking for explanations, without asking or wondering. Not you.

You weren’t capable of considering yourself an object, a toy, a doll that Donna played with whenever she wanted. You had a hard time seeing it that way. You knew it wasn't that way.

Her kisses were sometimes hurried, other times they were slow and careful. The silence was only overshadowed by her moans, by yours, but not by words, at least, not always by words. Not wanting to accept your destiny as a sexual doll for the lady, you began to analyze those encounters, the coldness that seemed to fade from her voice.

You were madly in love with Donna, but that didn't mean she felt the same, although, refusing to believe it, you began to look for signs that proved you were wrong.

You found much more than you expected. Her caresses were infrequent, but warm, curious. Outside of passion it wasn’t common for her to kiss you, but it wasn’t something that never happened.

The most beautiful smile in the world, hers, began to appear at very specific moments, in those moments when Donna thought you weren't looking at her.

Like a child's game, she had fun loving you secretly, you were convinced of it. You wanted to hear it with her words, you wanted her to tell you everything you knew she felt, but you were never able to do it.

Donna kept her feelings behind a hard door of cold steel; she refused to share them with you.

 The coldness became a silent shield for the voices of her heart, although it was clumsy, it had cracks. It was as if she didn’t want to let herself be carried away by what she felt, as if loving you was a mistake or a danger.

Her defenses faltered from time to time, giving you kisses, glances, whispers, but soon they returned, soon the huge door that guarded her heart would close again and her face would become stoic, expressionless.

Without fear of losing, of making mistakes, living for more than a year like that, letting her take you, enjoying her body while she did it with yours, thinking, or rather, making you believe that it was her right for being your lady, your mind set a new goal.

You would only have to be patient, study the steel door well, those feelings the lady showed without wanting to, and, with a little luck, be able to find the key, use it, and throw it far away so that it couldn’t be closed again.

“Ouch!” you screamed that morning, that morning when everything became strange.

You were cleaning, as always, standing on a stool to be able to remove the decades of dust from a shelf. Due to clumsiness or lack of care, you tripped, falling to the floor abruptly.

“(Y/N),” the lady in black said, running to your body, with an expression of concern that made you sketch a smile. “Oddio... are you okay?” she asked, crouching down beside you, helping you sit up.

“Yeah… it was a stupid fall,” you said in a sweet voice, the only voice you could have with her. “Thanks, Donna.”

The lady nodded slowly, checking that you hadn't been hurt, with a look of concern that delighted your mind, with a softness and warmth in her gestures that revealed her feelings were exposed. Her eye locked with yours for a moment, her face relaxed, but soon after she frowned again, turning away and clearing her throat.

“Um... be more careful, will you?” Donna said with contempt, not helping you up. “A crippled maid is of no use to me.”

“I'm sorry,” you said with flushed cheeks, smiling at the clumsiness with which she closed her mouth, with which she tried to pretend that, to her, you were just that, a maid. “I'll be more careful next time.”

“Fine,” she whispered, crossing her arms and looking away. “I have to go to an important meeting today, (Y/N). I hope to have the house clean by the time I get back… um, I mean, if you can…”

“Of course, Donna, don't worry,” you said with a smile, with that radiant smile you were blessed with and that caused some nervousness in your mistress.

Nodding briefly, the lady and her doll left the mansion without saying goodbye, looking at you shortly before closing the door, looking at you through the veil that hid her beauty, but also those expressions she was ashamed of.

What you didn't imagine was what would happen later, when the lady and doll returned.

“Gods, what is that?” you asked when the lady came back, with Angie not being her only company.

Donna frowned, looking at what she was carrying in her arms, approaching without saying a single word and handing it to you.

In your arms you had a baby, a baby of no more than a year old who looked at you with curiosity. You knew that anything could happen at meetings, but you didn't expect that.

“Don't you see, you silly maid?” Angie said, walking towards you. “It's a baby.”

“Um, I know it's a baby,” you said nervously, holding the girl in your arms and looking at the lady, who coldly, as always, took off her veil without paying attention. “But… But…”

“Her name is Rose,” Angie said, pointing at the girl who was writhing in your arms.

You were nervous and confused, and with good reason.

“Rose?” you asked, looking for Donna with your eyes.

The doll maker sighed, resting her hands on a table, as if she were thinking about her answer. A million possible explanations began to pass through your mind, each one more terrible than the last.

“Donna…”  you whispered, approaching her slowly. “Who is this child? Is she your daughter?” you asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

She turned around, shaking her head, with a nervous, cold expression.

“No,” she answered with an annoyed whisper. “She's not mine.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, biting your lip as the baby squirmed in your arms. “Who is she? Why do you bring her with you?”

“You're nosy, huh?” Angie hissed, as the lady, absentmindedly, poured herself a glass of wine.

She seemed nervous, much more nervous than usual.

You could see the trembling of her hands, her lost gaze. Even, if you concentrated hard enough, you were sure you could hear the thoughts roaring in her mind.

“I'm not nosy, I just don't understand who this baby is and why it's here,” you said looking at the doll while Donna dropped into a chair, with a hand on her forehead. “Donna, what's going on?”

She drank and then looked at you with disinterest, indicating with your gaze for you to come closer. You did it unsurely, calming the imminent crying of the baby.

“Mother Miranda believes that this child is the key to the resurrection of her daughter,” the brunette explained while you sat next to her. “Preparing the ritual takes time and she couldn't take care of her.”

“Gods…” you sighed, cradling the baby. “Who are the parents? Are they from the village?”

“No,” she answered, looking away with a tired gesture. “Don't… ask so many things, ho mal di testa.”

“I'm sorry,” you apologized, looking closely at the girl who moved in your arms. “This is so strange… Don’t you know who her parents are?”

“Didn’t you hear me? Shut up, stop asking stupid questions, (Y/N),” Donna protested, pouring herself another drink and sighing, closing her eye to relax. “You don’t want to know.”

Deep down you knew what that meant. That girl wasn’t from the village and her parents, of course, weren’t either.

Living with Donna had given you certain knowledge about the priestess, about her tireless search, about the methods she would be capable of using to get what she wanted.

“This is going too far… Kidnapping a child…” you murmured, cradling the baby, deducing for yourself where the little girl came from. “Poor parents… it’s unfair.”

Donna looked at you with a sad look, nodding as she played with her glass.

“Yes, it is,” she said in a low voice, emptying the wine into her throat and shaking her head. “I know what you're thinking and no, it's not my fault.”

“I didn't say it was,” you said, leaning towards the lady, who seemed terribly nervous and repentant.

In the village they could say that her heart was evil, that she had a black soul, but you, over time, discovered that it wasn't like that. Donna wasn’t that way by nature, the tragedies of her family, the loneliness... All of that turned her into a puppet in the hands of Miranda.

Knowing that the kidnapping of a little girl was something that visibly bothered her relieved your heart, made you feel less guilty for loving her.

“In fact, it's your fault” she said, with a more common tone, pointing at you with her finger.

“Mine?” you asked surprised, arching your eyebrows.

Donna nodded, crossing her arms.

“It seems that your skills as a maid have spread throughout the village and Miranda thought to leave the care of Rose to you appropriate . According to her, she is much better off with you than in the castle.”

“Oh, I don't know how to take that,” you said with a fake smile, comforting the little girl's moans. “Shh, don't cry...”

“Angie, bring the bag,” the lady ordered, to which the doll, who was comically watching the baby, agreed grumbling and bringing a small backpack from the entrance. “Everything is here, I trust you know how to take care of her.”

“Yes, of course, before coming here I used to take care of my nephew and...” you said nodding and accepting the task without asking any more absurd questions. “Um, I think we need to change her,” you said with a grimace of disgust. “Are there diapers in there?”

“I don't know, check it yourself,” Donna said with the same unpleasant face, getting up from the chair with a tired sigh, with a pained expression and a hand on her forehead. “I'm going to the workshop. “

“Oh, okay,” you said, disappointed at not being able to keep up even one more stupid word with her. “Do you need something?”

“No, lasciami estare.”

That day she didn't seem to be in a good mood, and you knew it was best to leave her alone.

 Donna would have to wait. You had something more important to take care of at that moment. Carefully you cleaned little Rose, in silence, thinking who the unfortunate parents were, why Miranda, protector of the village, would do something like that to an innocent family.

Questions in that place were dangerous and besides, Donna trusted you

“That's it... now little Rose is clean... you like being, don't you?” you said talking to the baby with Angie, without knowing anything about the brunette.

“Gross,” the doll protested as you got rid of the trash and the little girl writhed playfully on a table. “How long is she going to be shitting herself?”

“Angie, it’s a baby,” you said, frowning and picking up the little girl, cradling her in your arms. “We all have been.”

“No, not me, silly,” the puppet said, sitting next to you on the couch. “I’m a more evolved specimen than that poop machine.”

You laughed, shaking your head and watching the hallway, not sure you wanted Donna to come back, not when the thin line of her sanity was so weak in the face of madness.

“Rose, mm? Rose or Rosemary?” you asked the baby, who was playing with your necklace, the necklace Donna gave you some time ago.

According to her, it was a mark, a proof that you were hers. The fact that the gold chain mysteriously coincided with your birthday was, according to your mistress, a stupid coincidence.

“You should read her a bedtime story,” the puppet suggested, making you frown in amusement.

“Wow, Angie, that’s a good idea,” you said, surprised, while Angie and you watched the little girl, who seemed restless. “Find me a story, will you? Oh, and… there isn’t a crib in the house, is there? She can’t sleep anywhere.”

“Yes, yes, there is one in the basement, come, come silly,” Angie said, getting off the couch and leading you.

With the little girl asleep, the day ended.

That day was definitely not the best for Donna. Many times, almost every night, she would take you in silence, falling asleep beside you in the bedroom, not asking you to leave. It could be because loving you was an exhausting task, but once again, Donna didn't know how to hide her true intentions.

Under the sheets, with your bodies naked and exhausted, she pretended to sleep, pretended that her arms around you were a product of the inertia of sleep and not a desperate gesture to maintain contact with you.

You knew when she was sleeping, when she was awake. Those arms, those soft caresses in your hair while she watched you, believing that you were sleeping didn't mean anything of what she wanted you to see, but quite the opposite.

You never dared to play with her, to make her see that her attempts to be stubborn and insensitive stopped working a long time ago. You didn't dare, the fear of discovering that perhaps her sick mind made her behave like that, that she really didn't feel anything for you was the worst of your fears, although you were completely convinced that it wasn't like that.

 That night there were no hugs, no cuddling under the sheets.

You enjoyed those caresses, those kisses that meant nothing, that sometimes didn’t lead to passion, to her eagerness to take you. She closed the bedroom door, thus indicating to you that she didn’t want your company.

It was the first night you slept alone in a long time, but the circumstances were delicate, little Rose had been too abrupt and unexpected a change, which surely unbalanced the lady's sanity, you didn't know to what extent.

“Oh, what is this? A cow... what does a cow do, little Rose?” you said, playing with the girl the next day, while Donna was having breakfast.

She didn't even look at you or talk to you, that day, that morning, she went back in time, pretending you didn't exist.

The girl hit the old book you were holding with her hand, a children's book full of pleasant drawings. You didn't know what that poor baby had been through, but, above all, you didn't want the shadows of the village to haunt her, not before... Miranda took her away.

Rose laughed, innocent, unaware of the uncertain fate that awaited her. Donna looked at you out of the corner of her eye, smiling, pretending that you couldn't see her, even though you did and your face, subtly, smiled back at her.

“Oh, you want some of (Y/N)'s delicious mashed apples, right?” you said, closing the book. “Angie, can you help me?”

“Aye,” the doll said, fulfilling your request without any protest.

The doll was unpredictable, sometimes she was a devil from hell, and other times she was as cute as a teddy bear. It seemed that little Rose's presence didn't bother her at all, quite the opposite of her owner, who seemed even more absent.

When the girl finished eating, you made a great effort to try to get her to sleep, but you were distracted by the lady, who approached slowly, sitting on the armchair in front of you, watching in silence.

You looked at her tenderly and she did so coldly, but also with a spark of curiosity.

“She's an adorable girl,” you commented after a few minutes of tense silence. “She's very good.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured, disinterested, looking away.

“Do you want to hold her?” you offered, bringing the girl a little closer.

The brunette moved her arms exaggeratedly, shaking her head with a grimace of disgust.

“No, take her away from me,” she said with a childish hiss.

“Mm, Donna is so mean, huh? She doesn't want to play with little Rose,” you said amused, watching the girl smile at your comical voice. “Well, never mind, you should sleep now.”

“You're good at it,” she commented with a relaxed gesture, tilting her head to watch you cradle the baby.

“Yes, I already told you that I used to take care of my nephew,” you said, looking at her briefly, with that sweet smile that didn't usually leave your face. “Babies aren't a problem for me.”

“Mm,” she murmured again, looking away.

Seeing Rose's face, how sweet and tender she was, you began to fantasize, to imagine scenarios that were previously unthinkable, to imagine a future with Donna, a real one, one in which you weren’t her maid, in which the whispers of love lasted all day, in which those words, those three words that you so longed to hear, ran through your ears.

You were so engrossed in the baby, so hopelessly in love with Donna, that you stopped having control of your thoughts, and also of your words.

“You know what? I've been thinking,” you murmured, cradling the girl, letting yourself be carried away by your emotions. “I wouldn't mind having one of these.”

“Mm? Di che cosa stai parlando?” the lady asked, blinking and frowning.

“Well, I'm talking about this, about a baby,” you sighed, playing with the girl to distract her with your hand. “Can you imagine? A baby, our baby…”

“What?” Donna asked in an unpleasant tone, shaking her head. “You can't be serious.”

“Why not? I've been here with you for over a year, and… well, I always wanted to start a family and…” you stammered, regretting having let your feelings speak for themselves.

“Are you crazy? Don't talk nonsense, (Y/N),” she said, sighing in disbelief.

“Nonsense?” you asked, in a sad tone. “Wanting to have a child with you is nonsense? You and me…”

“You and me, what? Huh? You and me what!? The woman asked in a cold, nervous tone, fixing her bright eye on yours, increasing the volume of her voice.

“Shh, don't talk that loud,” you said, calming Rose's nervousness, and your own. “Donna, stop pretending that I'm just a maid to you, I know that's not the case.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, with a mocking smile. “You know… what? Stop making things up, (Y/N). You are my maid, that's all.”

“That's not true,” you said, with an involuntary hiss. “You know that's not true.”

“You're stupid, (Y/N),” Donna growled, getting up abruptly from the chair. “I'm going to make one thing clear to you, stupid maid. You are mine, you serve me. If I want to fuck you, I do it, if I want to ignore you, I do it. You are here to serve me, to meet my needs, nothing else, do you understand?”

“Why are you so stubborn?” you asked, raising your tone as well. “Look at yourself. You can't even believe your own words and… don't say those things in front of the girl, Donna.”

“You dare to give me orders?” he asked, approaching in a threatening manner. “Stop dreaming about babies and stupid ideas about our relationship. There is no such relationship, do you hear me? I don't love you... you are my doll, my toy, nothing else.”

“You can say whatever you want. I know it's not true,” you said, looking down, with a serious expression, not feeling the slightest pain for her words, you knew they weren't true. “Deny it to yourself the times you want, Donna.”

“I think you've gotten too close to me, stupid...” the lady hissed, looking down, staring her anger into your eyes. “Have a child with you? Don't be an idiot, I would never have a baby with a stupid maid like you,” she growled madly, with her hands shaking, losing control little by little.

“You're shaking, Donna, and do you know why? Because you're lying, because those insults hurt you much more than they do to me, because you would do anything before admitting your feelings,” you said defiantly, trying to keep the girl calm.

“I should never have hired you,” she whispered dangerously.

You, who were determined to face her hard wall, kept your composure, a defiant face, equal to her false madness, her false claims.

“That's the only thing you've sincerely said,” you murmured. “You know why? Because it hurts you, it hurts you that a stupid maid like me has stolen your heart; it hurts you to recognize that behind that powerful and feared Lord there is a soul wanting to be loved.”

“Shut up,” Donna hissed, breathing with more difficulty. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” she yelled furiously, kicking the floor angrily, causing little Rose to start crying. “Ugh, make her shut up! Shut that stupid brat up!”

“Stop yelling, you're scaring her,” you said nervously, trying to calm the baby, who was crying inconsolably.

“Vaffanculo,” the lady said, turning abruptly and cowardly fleeing the scene.

The tears couldn’t help but run down your cheeks as you calmed Rose's crying. It wasn’t the first time you insinuated something like that, that you wanted to make her understand that what she believed didn’t matter, that there was something between you, something intense, something strong. Donna was too stubborn and you were too in love.

Of course, she had never been so abrupt with you. Maybe she was telling the truth, and you were nothing to her.

“She's a very stubborn woman,” you said to yourself. “Why is it so hard for her to admit what she feels? Gods...”

A little while later, when Rose managed to calm down, the lady returned with a different look, one that wasn't directed at you.

Donna, without saying a word, dropped down next to you on the couch, looking at the baby, who was struggling to fall asleep. You, feigning annoyance, moved your body away from hers a little, pretending that those words didn't hurt you, that you were strong.

“May I?” she asked after a few tense minutes, extending her hands towards the baby.

You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye, nodding, unable to suppress a smile.

“Be careful with her head... that's it...” you said in a sweet voice, handing the baby to the lady, who took it unsurely, following the guide you made with your hands in hers. “That's it…”

The brunette looked at the girl and then at you, cradling the baby slowly, with a close, but at the same time very far from reality look.

“Say hello, Rose, hello…” you said with a loving voice, calming the girl's nervousness due to those unknown arms. “It's Donna, honey, say hello, Donna…”

The lady sketched a smile, and then sighed very deeply.

“I'm sorry, (Y/N),” she whispered with a bit of pride. “I'm sorry for speaking to you that way.”

You looked at her, nodding to accept her apology.

“I have nothing to forgive you for, I know you didn't mean it,” you said with a tender voice, enjoying the view you had of Donna with the baby.

“No, of course I didn’t,” she murmured with a shy stammer. “You're not stupid.”

“Sometimes I think I am,” you sighed, helping Donna keep Rose in a comfortable position. “You know how I feel about you. You know I love you, right?”

Donna looked away with a strange, bewildered expression.

“I just don't understand you, Donna,” you said again, shaking your head. “You think I don't notice what you do. You think I don't know that you caress me when I sleep, that you whisper in my ear, that you smile at me when you think I'm not looking… I'm afraid you're not that good at hiding what you feel.”

“I don't…” she said, regretting talking and controlling her breathing. “It's not that easy, (Y/N).”

“Of course it is,” you said with a hopeful smile, reaching out your hand to guide her face, her gaze, to yours. “Donna, just tell me, say what you feel. Tell me I'm not a toy for you, tell me because otherwise... I'll end up going crazy.”

The lady lowered her eye, pressing her lips together, letting a tear roll down her cheek, starting to sob.

“You are not a toy,” she said with a broken voice. “You, you are…”

“Yes, come on, tell me, my love,” you insisted, seeing, for the first time, her defenses falter. “Your gaze says it, but your words remain silent, why, Donna?”

“Don’t you understand? You don’t know what it’s like for someone like you to tell me those things, to look at me that way. You don’t understand that it’s hard for me to accept that someone loves me just the way I am… I want to believe you, but, but I can’t… they, they don’t let me, they say that you will leave and…” she said nervously, blinking uncontrollably, being immediately comforted by your caresses.

Slowly, you approached her lips, placing a different kiss on them, one that she didn’t ask for, one that came from the depths of your heart. She sobbed, but her lips kissed yours too, slowly, without saying anything, but saying everything at the same time.

“Shh, Donna… my Donna…” you whispered in a tender voice, with your hand running over her cheek, wiping away her tears, touching her scar.

“Don't do that,” she interrupted, shaking her head, embarrassed.

“I like everything about you, Donna, everything,” you said in a tender voice, looking into her eyes, at her sad and weak expression.

Maybe, finally, you could get that confession you so longed to hear from her lips.

“If it's true that you don't love me, look me in the eyes and tell me, I promise to accept it, I promise not to abandon you if you do, I will always be faithful to you, my love, no matter what you feel.”

“I can't do that,” the brunette murmured, shaking her head.

“Why?” you insisted.

“Because I'd be lying,” she finally said, handing Rose back to you, breathing nervously at that veiled confession. “(Y/N), I…”

A horrible noise, the intrusive ringing of the phone interrupted the most anticipated moment of your life. Her gaze lowered repentant, and her eye begged for your silent forgiveness.

“Go,” you said with an understanding smile, putting Rose in her little crib. “I've been waiting for this conversation for a long time. I can wait a little longer.”

Donna nodded, kissing the back of your hand quickly, like a different gesture, one that said she wouldn't change her mind soon, as it always used to happen when she was close to admitting her feelings.

“Pronto,” she said, picking up the phone, looking at you out of the corner of her eye with a sad smile that you returned.

“Cosa?” Donna asked scared, changing her expression radically. “Dead Lycans? ... Where? Cazzo… yes, Mother Miranda, yes, the girl is with us, (Y/N) is… yes, right now, Mother Miranda,” she said nervously, calling your attention and hanging up abruptly, running towards you.

“What's wrong?” you asked nervous by her erratic behavior. “Donna.”

“I have to go. Something happened…” she said without giving more explanations, searching for her veil. “(Y/N), listen to me… I don't think anything will happen, but… promise me that you will protect Rose, that you won't leave her… do you promise? Per favore! Tell me you understand!” she squealed nervously at your lack of response.

“Y-Yes, of course, Donna, no one will touch the girl, but what's wrong? You're scaring me,” you said nervously, getting up from the couch.

“You, just… wait for me, okay? I'll be back in a moment, come on Angie,” Donna said, gesturing to her doll, the silent witness of that conversation, making her jump comically into her arms.

“Donna, what…”you said, answered by a loud slam of the door.

You were nervous and scared. You didn't know what was happening, why Donna ran out like that. Not knowing anything was always your biggest anxiety, in any aspect. Walking around the house, you looked at the girl, who was lying asleep.

You would just have to wait, or so you repeated to yourself. The minutes passed and everything seemed as usual, until a loud knock, coming from the entrance, scared you, making you run there.

On the floor, surely because of the knock he gave to the doors, was an unknown man, dressed in clothes that weren’t typical of the village. Of course, you backed away scared as he stood up, looking at you curiously.

“Hey, no, no, easy,” he said, extending his empty hands as a symbol of peace. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” you asked, backing away slowly, totally distrustful.

“H-Hey, I'm coming in peace… Let me explain,” he insisted, chasing you into the living room.

“I-I don't know what you want, I'm just a maid,” you said in your defense, terribly scared and looking around for something to defend yourself with.

“A maid? Oh, yes… you seem like a pretty normal girl, you're not one of them,” he said, with a nervous and relieved smile. “I'm looking for…” As he spoke, his gaze shifted to the crib. “Rose!”

The man ran towards the baby, towards the poor creature that you had to protect at all costs.

“What are you doing?” you asked nervously as he bent down to pick her up. “That baby isn't yours.”

“Of course it's mine, I'm her father,” he said with a pleasant smile, relieved to be reunited with his daughter. “Thank goodness you're here, Rose... come, we'll get out of here, together,” he said, extending his hand towards you, making you step back and shake your head.

“No, you can't take her, Donna told me to protect her,” you hissed, studying the situation.

You understood his joy, his desire to get out of there, but you simply couldn't allow it, you couldn't fail Donna, your Donna.

“Donna? One of those monsters? Listen, I’ll call people who could blow this place into a thousand pieces, you wouldn't have to worry about those monsters anymore, we can get out of here, the three of us,” the man said, speaking slowly so as not to scare you.

“No,” you said horrified quickly approaching the crib and grabbing the little girl. “You won’t take Rose!” you screamed, running away from him.

“Wait! Hey!” he shouted, chasing you through the mansion. “Come back here! She's my daughter!”

You didn't listen to him, you ran through the house while that enraged man chased you. Cornered, with the little girl in your arms, you knew you couldn't run away forever, you would have to face him sooner or later.

Hiding behind a door, you grabbed a vase from a table, letting the little girl's crying draw his attention, making him come closer. When he did, you didn't think much about it, you slammed the object into his head, breaking it into a thousand pieces, making him bleed.

“Damn it! Give me back my little girl!” the man screamed, blinded by the blow, bleeding from the head and stretching out his hand to try to catch you.

You could run away, but you couldn't escape. Naturally, that man was beyond your physical capabilities; you were the best of maids, but the worst of fighters. After a frantic chase, the man grabbed some scissors that were on a table, threatening you with them.

“Give Rose to me, come on, or…” he hissed, cornering you while you held Rose tightly against your chest.

He struggled with you, causing your clothes to be stained with his blood. You weren't strong, but you didn't let him take the baby from you, making him lose his mind completely, causing you to fall to the floor, with no way out.

The man breathed for a moment, raising the scissors in the air, surely ready to stab you with them, even at the risk of hurting Rose. You couldn't blame him, he was desperate.

Just when you thought it was your end, when you could feel those scissors digging into your flesh, the girl's father stepped back, dropping the scissors and covering his head with his hands.

Through the front door, the lady in black appeared, covered in her veil, reaching out to him, exerting her influence on his mind.

“Donna!” you cried out, sobbing as you saw your savior tormenting the man, bringing him to his knees.

Behind her was a dark figure, Mother Miranda, who, ignoring the man approached you, retrieving the baby.

“(Y/N), right?” the witch murmured with a sinister smile. “Good job.”

You nodded trembling as the priestess enveloped herself in a black cloud and Donna, agitated, crouched next to you.

“(Y/N), amore mio, are you okay?” she asked, cupping your face in her hands, nervously looking at every part of your body. “You're bleeding... where has he hurt you? Gods, (Y/N)…”

“I-I'm not hurt,” you murmured, letting her look at you. “The blood is not mine.”

“Meno male…” the brunette sighed, resting her forehead against yours. “(Y/N)…”

You glanced at the witch, who had completely changed her appearance, causing the tormented man to notice that new young woman.

“Mia?” he asked, dazed. “What are you doing here?”

“Calm down, Ethan, it's all over now… let's go home,” Miranda whispered in that new form, glancing at you from the corner of her eye. “A pity, I had high hopes for little Rose, but I'm afraid she'll have to go back to her pathetic family.”

Laughing sinisterly, accompanied by the zombified Ethan, the woman left leaving you alone.

There was a moment of silence in which the two of you looked at each other nervously.

“I-I thought I had lost you,” Donna whispered, taking off her veil and shaking her head while pushing your hair out of your face with both hands. “That he had hurt you.”

“I-I'm fine,” you said with your nerves still uncontrolled. “I only hit the floor, but, but I protected Rose, like you asked me to.”

“(Y/N), you are the only thing that matters,” Donna said, with a brusque tone, still covering your face with her hands. “You are… The only thing I have.”

“Calm down… I'm fine, you saved me,” you said with a slightly fake smile. “Shh… everything is fine, I'm not hurt…”

“I can't stand seeing you like this…” Donna hissed, shaking her head, her expression darkening. “Come.”

You took her hand as you walked down to her bedroom, where, without wasting any more time, she took off your ruined dress, cleaning your skin without saying anything, in complete silence.

Her hands were shaking and her eye was blinking nervously, on the verge of a breakdown.

“Sono una stupida,” she growled, panting nervously as she looked after you. “Sono una stupida!”

“Donna,” you said, moving away, a bit scared. “Calm down, my love.”

“No, I'm not calm, I can't be calm,” she said nervously, throwing away the towel she was cleaning you with and holding her hair. “You could have died!”

“I haven't, darling, I'm fine,” you said nervously, with a sad voice, sweet as always.

“No, no, no, no, no, you're not fine… nothing is fine!” she shrieked furiously, kicking the floor. “If you had died, I would…! I can't stand it. I can't stand you leaving me without knowing…! Not knowing that you… are the love of my life.”

“What did you say?” you asked, surprised by that whispered revelation, by that confession you didn’t expect in those circumstances.

“I’m tired of pretending!” the lady shrieked, kneeling in front of you, holding your hands too tightly. “(Y/N), listen to me, I’m completely in love with you, I’ve been since I met you and I’ve never told you because… I’m an idiot!”

“Shh, I know,” you said in a reassuring tone, hissing in pain from her grip.

“No, you don’t know… all this time I’ve been… running away from my feelings because I didn’t… I didn’t think I deserved you, I didn’t know that you… that I… I don’t deserve to love and I… they…” Donna said, stuttering, closing her eye to fight her madness, to be able to speak more clearly.

“I thought you would leave me, that you would never… (Y/N), I beg you to forgive me, but I was scared, scared because I never felt love for anyone, I was afraid of everything, I was afraid of getting my hopes up, of you breaking my heart…”

“Donna, I love you,” you said, fighting against her grip so you could hug her.

“I, I-I love you, (Y/N), I don't want you to be my maid ever again; I want you to be my wife. I want you to be mine only if you want it… I want to have children with you. I want you to be always by my side and…”

Seeing that she wasn’t able to control herself, you chose to silence her with your lips, to taste her salty tears in a tender, deep, revealing kiss, one that said much more than any words; that expressed the joy of your heart at having finally found the key to hers.

“That's a lot of propositions,” you said in a relaxed, amused tone, slowly detaching yourself from her lips. “But I have the same answer for all of them…”

“Quale?” she asked, with an almost childish, expectant look.

“Yes, yes, Donna,” you answered, melting into her lips again while she cried, this time from joy.

“(Y/N),” she said, moving your hair away as she always did, with a sincere smile.  “Will you marry me? I-I don't have a ring but…”

“Donna…” you said, rolling your eyes. “Of course I will.”

The doll maker hugged you very tightly, burying her head in you chest, crying desperately, regretful for her attitude, happy for having been able to open her feelings. Her mind must have been a complete mess at that moment.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she repeated, soaking your skin with her tears. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

“Shhh,” you whispered, caressing her head, hissing in pain as her nails accidentally scratched your naked back. “Donna, my love… that's it, relax, okay? Everything is fine, my love, everything…”

She nodded effusively, touching your body, your waist, enjoying your skin with a smile she always wanted to have on her face, but that slowly faded.

“What is this?” Donna asked confused, pointing at some marks on your arm, the marks of some fingers. “Did I do it to you?”

“No, I think that man grabbed me and…” you explained, letting the lady go over the rest of your body in a different way, studying it.

“H-He grabbed you… he grabbed you…” she murmured shaking her head, moving away a little and getting up, looking away at your ruined dress. “Gods… il tuo vestito…”

“It's okay, Donna, it's okay,” you said, getting up as well and placing a hand on her shoulder. “It can be cleaned.”

“No,” the lady said, frowning and turning around abruptly. “I made that dress for you! It was a gift for you!”

“Shhh, I know…” you said, rubbing her arms, afraid that she would lose her mind again. “It doesn't matter, Donna, you can make me another one.”

“That man has… he has defiled you,” she murmured, looking at you sadly as she ran her hands down your body. “He has touched you, he has… marked you…” she said nervously, running a hand through the man's grip. “He has touched what is mine… nobody touches what is mine!”

“He won't do it ever again… I'm only yours, Donna,” you said confused, letting the brunette do something strange, touch your body slowly with her hands, with a concentrated look.

“You are mine, my girl…” she whispered, looking briefly into your eyes. “Everything, your skin… your waist… your face… he had no right…” she said, running her hand over each place she mentioned. “He had no right to do it… I-I need… to take him… away from you…”

“Donna…” you sighed, letting yourself be dragged by her hands on your waist, by her wild kisses that began to devour your lips mercilessly. “Honey…”

“Shh, calm down, tesoro… I won't let anyone else touch you ever again,” she whispered in your ear, kissing you fiercely, grabbing your body, scratching it almost desperately, playing with the edges of your underwear. “I need you, (Y/N).”

“Take what you need, my love,” you said with a purr, letting the garment slide down your legs, knowing that taking you, claiming you, would serve to calm the lady down, to make her fears disappear and, well, you were always willing to do it, always.

She nodded, kissing you again, knocking you down on the bed among nervous gasps, playing with her own clothes, whispering to you, adoring you in a different way, a desperate and passionate way.

“I love you,” Donna whispered, caressing your cheek as your hips swayed while her erection pressed against your entrance, wet from ecstasy, from revelations, from confessions… “I don't want to fuck you, I want to make love, to make you mine…”

You laughed amused, catching her lips in another wet kiss, pulling her body as her shaft entered slowly, but abruptly, stretching your walls, making your body welcome the one who was now your beloved, your wife, your Donna.

“Hey, slow down, darling, you're big,” you said, moaning from the shock, earning a shy smile, a brief moment of pause, of intimate enjoyment, of glances that were very, very far from madness.

“I'm sorry, I just need to…” she said, apologizing for the anxious movements of her hips, for her hands separating your legs, squeezing your skin, melting it in her fingers.

“To make me yours, I know,” you whispered, suppressing a moan, devouring her lips while her thrusts intensified, making the bed creak, protesting due to your lust.

The words no longer came out, only hurried moans did. Your hands didn’t know where to rest, they ran over her clothed body, her legs, squeezing them as close as possible, as deep inside you as possible.

Her movements were fast and uncontrolled, her kisses were wild, her erection slid along your wet walls quickly and decisively while your whole body trembled with pleasure.

“I love you… I love you…” the lady repeated, controlling her own moans. “I don't want to say anything else, every day, every hour…”

Her soft words contrasted with the anxiety of her movements, with the desperation of claiming once again what was hers, what was always hers and always would be.

Your aching body endured the pleasure as best it could, your legs wrapped around her waist, begging her not to pull away, to keep taking you like she did, like she always did, like she had never done before.

That dirty, improvised, wet act didn't take long to reach its end, for your body to surrender to the pleasure, to tense up, to release itself with a loud squeal, with your nails clinging to her flesh.

Donna, accelerated, nervous and unable to control her thrusts, also released herself inside you, leaving her mark on your walls, moistening your insides with her warm seed, with a muffled moan.

“(Y/N),” she said, taking a breath, not wanting to abandon you, playing with your face exhausted by pleasure, pointing your eyes at hers. “You were never just my maid.”

You smiled, kissing her with one last breath, your body demanding a break, the wetness of lust running down your legs.

It had been a strange way to force the lady in black to confess her feelings, but she did it, she finally did it. You would finally have the life with her that you dreamed of. You would be her wife, her lover, the love of her life.

First her voice, then her face, her body and finally, you got her heart.

[shecriestotheclickingoftime]

patrick def the type of bf to annoy the fuck out of you all the time (bonus points if you’re the sweet shy introvert type) but if anyone says something even slightly mean towards you he’s making their life hell (not physically just being bitchy) he won’t hesitate to set boundaries when it comes to you, making it clear no one can talk to you like that and then go straight back to pinching your cheeks and teasing you

ugh this is so real. patrick would be severely unafraid of PDA, and he would not be afraid to embarrass you- but if anyone else even tried to make you feel bad, he would flip... i really hope i did this prompt justice!!

request <3333

patrick zweig x reader, 1.1k words

possible tw for drinking, since they go to a bar

(and yet again, art donaldson will be third wheeling)

Patrick loved to be all over you in public. He was not at all afraid of PDA- he had always been loud and cocky, and now that he had you, he wanted to show off even more. 

He loved to bother and annoy you whenever he could, his teasing breaking through your usually reserved nature, as you rolled your eyes at him while holding back a smile, or hurled a benign insult back at him as he grinned straight back at you. Patrick always took advantage of how he could tower over you, always getting too close and pinching your cheeks and whispering how cute you were, completely unembarrassed about showing everyone his love for you, and he loved to see how your face flushed at his words. He knew that you were sensitive and loved the banter and the affection, even though you wouldn’t outwardly admit it the way that he would. There was nothing better to him than to watch your quiet, stoic demeanor break at his words.

You and Patrick balanced each other out perfectly. He was always there for you at social events, his hand around your waist, and always knowing when to take over conversations to give you a break. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, and he wasn’t afraid to speak yours either, never hesitating to defend you or speak up for you, especially when you were too anxious to do it yourself. And you were so perfectly the opposite- you were always there for him with a gentle, quiet kind of love that he never felt before, and he could let himself be soft and vulnerable around you. 

So, when you, Patrick, and Art had ended up at a bar on a random Saturday night, Patrick couldn’t help but be all over you. And you clung onto him a little extra tonight, holding Patrick’s hand so tightly it was like you were scared that he’d leave. Your grip didn’t falter at all as the three of you hung around the bar area, ordering drinks and sipping at them as Art and Patrick discussed some tennis news, making sure to describe each player to you and fill you in on whatever gossip was going on around each of them, knowing those stories might entertain you more than just the numbers and scores from whatever tournaments were going on. (While you didn’t ever mind hearing Art and Patrick talking about tennis, the only games that you actually cared about were the ones that they actually played in- you weren’t so invested in the tennis world outside of watching them.)

As the conversation went on, you had mindlessly shifted from holding Patrick’s hand, now clutching onto his arm, your hand on his bicep as you held onto him tightly. Patrick looks down at your face, a smug grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere” Patrick teased, amused by how touchy you were being. Putting his drink down on a table, he used his now-free hand to pinch your cheek, trying to annoy you like always. He obviously didn’t mind you holding him like that- he honestly loved it- but that doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t tease you about it. “First my hand, and now my arm… you’re clingy tonight,” Patrick said, loving how your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 

“Shut up,” you snapped back at him, but there was no anger behind your words. And you also made no move to let go of Patrick at all, still staying as close to him as possible. 

Art laughed in amusement at the display, enjoying the sight of his best friend clearly so down bad for you. “I think I’m gonna go say hi to the tennis guys,” Art said, flashing a grin as he walked across the bar. 

Patrick looked back down on you, a mischievous grin on his face as he wrapped his strong arms around you, holding you against him in a tight hug. Right there, in the plain sight of everyone at the bar, he pulled away slightly, holding your face gently, showing off as much affection as possible. He always knew how to push your buttons just enough without going too far, or making you actually feel bad. But, he couldn’t help but love the slightly pissed off look you gave him when he embarrassed you like that, pinching your waist as he let you go, a huge smile plastered on his face as he slipped his hand back into yours.

He got you another drink as the two of you joined Art’s conversation with his college tennis friends, Patrick seamlessly joining the conversation as you comfortably listened, sipping your new drink. You saw Patrick gaze down at you fondly, noticing your silence and checking in, when one of the guys in the circle interrupted the conversation, turning to you.

“Does she even talk?” you heard a drunken voice yell, turning your head to the short, muscular boy drunkenly laughing at own his comment as he turned all of the focus onto you. You looked started, and then quickly embarrassed as the guy continued to laugh at your timidness. Before anyone else could react, Patrick stepped forward towards him,easily towering over the guy, glaring straight down at him. It may have been just a small, stupid, drunken comment, but Patrick was not having it. There was no way that Patrick would ever let this fucking douchebag embarrass you, and there was especially no way that Patrick would sit there and watch you feel bad at all. 

“Who the fuck even are you?” Patrick asked sharply, watching as the other guy’s former confidence quickly drained out of his face. Patrick stared down at him, and with a venomous glare, and he strangely calmly said, “get the fuck out of here”. 

And just like that, he backed away and left, knowing it would be a mistake to even try to defend himself here. And after the guy was far enough away, Patrick stepped back to where he was next to you, quickly intertwining his hand with yours, as you and Art looked at each other in surprise, Art stifling laughter after watching just how easily Patrick had intimidated that guy. Patrick had always been loud and not afraid to fight, but something about the way he defended you was different. 

The conversation continued on after that, no one seemed to think twice about their friend’s absence. As their discussion droned on, you saw Patrick’s demeanor slowly soften again as he squeezed your hand and motioned at Art to leave. 

The three of you quickly excused yourselves as you headed out of the crowded bar and into the cool night air, and Patrick playfully draping his arm around your waist, then turning pinching your face and pressing a kiss on the top of your head, a satisfied grin appearing on his face as you roll your eyes at him, but not being able to hide a shy smile as you let him pull you into his side, letting him guide you back home. 

[jam3sacaster]

“I’m gonna have ‘ta punish ya’.”

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by darling anon 🫶🏽 / You and Declan butt heads, and then some…

Set just after the pageant, messed with the timeline a lil i think but I managed to work the punch in another way <3

18+ FANFIC / SMUT GALORE, angsty & lots of swearing. Fairly long and very HEAVY smut, sorry x Declan you horny bastard, we love you. Reader character aged 21.

As always, request what you wanna see in the ask box 💋

“I can’t just stop working for Corinium, Declan. You cannot just waltz into my life and expect me to give everything up for you!” You shout, feeling rage seep through your veins. Declan and Rupert have been cooking up a ridiculous idea within an hour, desperate to overthrow Baddingham’s Machiavellian reign of television. “They have my balls in a fuckin’ vice, my love,”

“No, they HAVEN’T! You have thrown a ridiculous temper tantrum, on television, because you are so determined to get your own way because you’re a selfish, stubborn bastard.” You interject, slamming your reddened palms on the dinner table, face contorting in fury. “They want me to sell my fuckin’ soul, babe. To sit and judge these fuckin’ superficial pageants whilst that cunt Vereker gets MY spot on my fuckin’ show.” The Irishman bellows, leaning across the table and pointing his finger dangerously close to your face. Declan O’Hara is fucking scary when he’s angry, but my God is he sexy.

Rupert leans against the counter top, remaining silent in embarrassment. It was certainly better for everyone that way. Steaming with rage, you sit back in your seat, stray hairs sticking to the beading sweat on your forehead. “You can’t keep behaving like this, Declan. Like a fucking child.” You tut, avoiding eye contact with him. Declan frustratedly rakes a hand through his slicked hair before pouring himself an intoxicatingly large unit of whiskey. “I’m sure you can coax Tony into some amicable solution. It’s blatant he wants to fuck you. He would do anything for someone willing to open their legs for him.” Rupert pipes up and gestures towards you, cigarette smoke creating an ashy veil across his face. An excruciating silence ensued. Your eyes widened in absolute horror — Declan would certainly not take kindly to this joke. Rupert should’ve kept his mouth shut.

“You fucking what?” Declan asked him, walking towards him slowly, eyes frenzied with wrath. “Calm down, Declan, it was just a joke.” Rupert chuckled, offering his hands up in defeat. “What did ya’ fuckin’ say?” Declan asked again, containing to walk towards him until they were nose-to-nose. Another incredibly painful silence— even Rupert didn’t dare speak. After a few seconds, he opened his mouth to speak but Declan swung at him, landing a brutal punch with a wet smack. “DECLAN.” You bellow, grabbing his muscular arm and pulling him towards you. “Get out, Rupert. I’m so sorry, but just go home.” You shake your hands frantically as Rupert pulls himself from the floor and ushers himself out, clutching his face in agony.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” You scream, voice croaking under the pressure. You push Declan away from you as soon as you hear the front door click. “Ya’ t’ink I’m gonna let him talk about ‘ya like ‘dat? Talk about ‘ya spreadin’ ya’ legs for tha’ CUNT Tony?” Declan matches your enraged tone, pacing around the kitchen table but maintaining eye contact with you. You couldn’t reply to this. He was wildly protective of you — often infuriatingly so, but he could barely stand to see another man so much as look at you. Rupert’s joke was way too far.

“My job is turnin’ me into a fuckin’ laughin’ stock, you t’ink I’m a joke and you’re wavin’ your fuckin’ arse around in front of Tony.” He howled again, enraging himself with his own words. “Oh, fuck off Declan.” You spit, pushing yourself out of your chair and beginning to abandon the kitchen. “Don’t walk away from me.” He tuts, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You scream and the words can barely leave your mouth — a pathetic mixture of anger and despair. “I am fucking sick of you!” You immediately regret the words as Declan’s top lip curls in vexation. Oh fuck.

•

He hurtles towards you, pushing you towards the wall and almost taking you off of your feet. You close an eye, internally preparing yourself for the crescendo of noise he is about to create. Instead, he collides his lips onto yours, grunting in annoyance as his tongue pushes his way into your mouth. Feeling yourself melt under his touch, Declan’s hand rides under your blouse, ripping it off from the inside and exposing your bare chest — perky breasts wobbling with the force and nipples hard from arousal. The bristles of his moustache send a quiver down your spine as he kisses down your chest before taking your left nipple into his mouth: swirling around the pink bud and sucking it softly. A stifled whimper escapes your lift as you lift your hand to his trousers, rubbing across his hardening bulge.

“Bend over.” Declan demands, pulling away from you and pushing you gently towards the dining table. Hesitantly, you do as you’re told and bend over the table, skirt riding up your thighs. Not that it matters too much, as it was promptly yanked down, exposing your bare arse to the man that owned it. Running his rough hand across the right cheek, Declan smacked it firmly, the harsh noise of skin on skin reverberating across the room. “Ya’ do know I’m gonna have ta’ punish ya’.” He growled, readying his hand for another firm smack. “Mhm hmm.” You whisper, nodding your head, consenting softly. Another unyielding smack made you yelp with aching pressure — a reddened hand print beginning to take form. “Oh fuck.” He groaned, lowering himself to your level and biting firmly into your arse, pleasure taking control of his entire conscience. You keep your eyes firmly pressed shut, awaiting the next smack. Instead, you chomp down on your lip as you hear Declan’s zipper, and the subsequent sound of his trousers dropping to the ground.

“Do ya’ want it?” The Irishman questioned, teasing your slick entrance with the head of his painfully erect cock. You could feel yourself practically dripping as he placed a firm hand onto your waist. “Yes…” You breathlessly moan, pushing yourself towards him, aching to feel his girth inside you. “Yes, what?” He growled. “Yes… Daddy.” You whimper once more, desperation overtaking you.

“Good girl.” Declan praised, and pushed the full length of his cock into you, but thrusted slowly in and out. “Oh, fuck.” You wail, as the walls of your vagina grip him like a vice, already aching with the girth of his dick. “Ya’ like that? Do I feel good stretchin’ ya’ out?” He asks, grabbing a fistful of your hair and increasing his tempo with every wet smack of your arse against his pelvis. Eyes rolling back in ecstasy, teeth firmly planted into your bottom lip, mind fuzzy — you must definitely cannot muster a reply. “Tell me, girl. Tell me how good I feel inside ya’.” He asks again, hand reaching under to stroke your clit, coaxing you even closer to orgasm. Declan lolled his head back, pumping harder inside you as his fingers worked their rugged magic. “So fucking good, Daddy.” You manage to muster a reply.

“Ya’ so fuckin’ wet. Wrapped around my cock. Look at ya’ bouncin’ on my dick like a good fuckin’ whore.” Your lover groaned under your heat as he pounded into you, but the tension twisting inside your stomach was too much to bare. “Dec..Declan, I’m gonna…” You begin, but you feel him pull out in preparation.

The repetitive pounding of his enlarged cock on your g-spot left you in a dazed mess as you squirted onto the kitchen floor, legs trembling insanely throughout your orgasm. Declan watched the obscene mess he’d created with a terrible smirk on his face, full of adoration. “Good girl,” He affirmed again, “Look at the mess you’ve made for Daddy. Fuckin’ good girl.” He thrusted into you again, tempo increasing, hungry for his own release. “Are ya’ gonna let me cum inside ya?’ He asked, but he needn’t. You were already pleading with him to fill you with his seed. You needed to feel his hot, sweet cum inside of you.

“Please. I need it, Daddy. Please fill me up.” You begged, feeling Declan’s cock twitching inside you. The gratifying groans leaving his mouth prompted you to reach under your legs and stroke his cum-filled balls, luring him to ecstasy. “Fuck. Get ready, princess. I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

Bracing yourself to feel his warmth inside you, you kept your hands wrapped round his balls whilst pushing your arse into him, goading him to go faster. Spurts of hot cum covered the walls of your pussy, each rope accompanied with a pleasurable groan — absolute music to your ears. “Ahh, fuck.” Declan murmured, pulling his cock from your pussy and pausing for a moment to watch a droplet of his seed drip from your walls.

“Well done, my girl. You’ve fuckin’ milked me dry.” He chuckled to himself, slapping your arse once more playfully and huffing to himself.

[oliviasroses19]

Polin ramble coming in hot!

After it was revealed that Colin was helping Penelope find a husband, we have matching shots of each of them yearningly looking out the window.

We see Colin, having just read Whistledown, looking out across the square to the Featherington house. It’s a very short shot and it’s easy to just chalk it up to him being concerned for Pen. Which he is absolutely worried. She’s been utterly trashed in Whistledown, while he was left pretty much unscathed. Obviously this is because Penelope wrote it, but Colin doesn’t know this. So we have hero!colin who, in his desperation to fix his past mistake with Pen, has now created an entirely new and even worse situation for her. Colin has big feelings, guilt being the main one at the moment, that he has to compartmentalize and plan and work through before he does anything. He’s feeling like he squandered his chance to make things up to Penelope and may even be scared that he’s lost her again after barely getting her back. He most likely spent the entire day planning what he needed to say to Penelope, so by the time he actually does visit her, it is late in the evening. (There is also the risk of causing more scandal by calling on her, which is widely agreed upon within the fandom as to why he visits her at night.)

Then we have Pen, who is convinced she has ruined any prospect of marriage. She is taking the blame in this situation, having written what she did while leaving Colin as the innocent party. Enter Portia, who digs the knife in even deeper by pretty much telling Penelope that it was crazy to even think she had a chance at finding a suitor in the first place. Poor Penelope was already feeling low and to have her own mother confirm her fears is absolutely terrible to watch. She spends the rest of the day staring out her window accepting her fate as a spinster.

Until Colin shows up and now neither of them are looking out windows. They’re face to face and they are both feeling so much. Colin can barely get a word out before Penelope is asking him to kiss her.

(This is by far one of my favorite scenes to see analyzed and I am a firm believer that he absolutely did want to kiss her. We can use the book as reference to his inner thoughts as well as what we know of show!colin. My point in the next part can be taken however the reader would like to)

Is there a part of Colin who wants to kiss Pen? Absolutely. Is this a bad idea? Undoubtedly. Is this something he can give her when he has ruined her reputation not once, but twice now? Yes. Colin hates seeing Penelope upset, and if there is even the smallest chance this will make her feel better, propriety be damned, he’ll do it. He’s an “acts of service” guy through and through, which feeds his hero complex and insecurities that if he can’t do something for someone, what good is he to them. Unfortunately, this usually blows up in his face. In this instance, hero!colin makes an appearance, and it blows up in his face in the best way possible because holy shit he loves kissing her.

Consequences: 1,000

Hero!colin: 2 -1 because now he has to deal with yearning for Pen having now realized his feelings.

[levans44]

what’s it gonna take to break your heart?

pairing: steve rogers x agent!reader

summary: He vows to keep his distance, tells himself it's wrong—you're too new, too young, too reckless—and he's your commanding officer.

But whichever way he bends it, he can't seem to escape the truth.

warnings: angst, slow build, inside the tortured mind™ of steven grant rogers, mention of age difference, light mention of blood/injury

word count: 1k

a/n: thought i'd write something from steve's pov, for a change. this will be a longer series but each part is meant to be readable as a stand-alone piece. title by FINNEAS.

One of these days, you’re gonna be what does him in.

You’re a wildfire, a blaze barely contained. Too young, too bright, too intense for someone like him. Next to you, he's just a smoldering ember, tempered by decades of ash.

Fresh-faced, barely in your mid-20s, yet hand-selected by Fury from the newest round of Avengers recruits. It doesn’t take long for the rest of the group to catch onto your talent and grit—they start calling you their wildcard, the Ace.

Still, there’s no denying your age. Leagues younger than everyone else, with a certain vibrance in your eyes that sets you apart. 

Too young to devote the rest of your life to this kind of work.

And far too young for him to be feeling the way he does about you.

So he does everything he can to keep you at arm’s length, swallowing down every sidelong glance, every quick-witted comment and smile that eats away at his resolve.

But then you actualize the worst of his fears during a routine operation, throwing yourself head-first into a burning building, just moments away from collapsing.  

You, with a life teeming with potential, nearly taken in a heartbeat.

And Steve snaps. 

The Quinjet is barely off the ground when he strides through the haze of desert debris, making a beeline for you. Doesn’t spare you a second to catch your breath, dragging you by the arm to the rear of the cargo deck, raised eyebrows from the rest of the crew be damned.

By the time he releases his ironclad grip, cornering you against a stack of weapon crates, he’s scanned you for injuries at least three times over.

“What are you doing?” He hisses, chest heaving like he’s the one who’s just sprinted across a collapsing rooftop and leapt onto an airborne vehicle.

“What do you mean?” 

You cock your head earnestly, arms crossed as you stare up at him.

And he swears, he could end it all right then and there. 

Face covered in soot, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth—and you have the audacity to smile. The sharp corners of your lips pierce into smooth, rounded cheeks, still flushed red with exertion. As stunning as the day he first saw you, even with all the grime, sweat, and blood staining your skin.

Steve’s jaw clenches, concealing the tightness in his stomach with a gruff sigh. 

“You know exactly what. I ordered you not to engage.”

Not a flicker of hesitation when you fire back: 

“She had kids. I didn’t have a choice.” 

Directives and protocols gone by the wayside, earpiece tossed behind your shoulder as you head straight for a family trapped on the top floor—his orders to wait for the Quinjet buried in the dust. 

And he shouldn’t have expected anything less. 

He breathes through his nostrils, eyes fluttering shut, but all he can hear is the blood roaring in his ears.

But you did have a choice, he wants to argue. You don’t have to bear it all on your own. 

Why must you always be the one to rush to the frontlines?

But the words that come out are cold and detached, bypassing the part of his brain that wants to reach out and gently wipe the soot off your cheek: 

“That’s not the point. If the building had collapsed, you would have only added to the casualty count.”

“Maybe. But the Quinjet wasn’t gonna get there in time. I had to take the risk.”

A quiet sigh, gloved fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Agent, we don’t gamble with lives like that.”

Your sharp laugh cuts through the air, piercing his ears. Too sharp against the soft outline of your jaw, the smooth contours of your neck. You shoot him a look, the clarity in your irises reflecting his hypocrisy. 

“Funny coming from you, isn’t it Cap?”

There it was, that derision in your tone, a sneer on your pretty lips as you spit out his title like a a dirty word.

And damn him for wanting to taste it off your tongue, hear you gasp it into his neck as he presses you against the cold, steel-plated wall behind you. 

Leather gloves creak under his grip as he balls his fists, eyes darting to the wound on your upper arm when he can't formulate a quick enough response. A large glass shrapnel from the window you’d crashed through—a steady trail of dark crimson trickling down your forearm all the way to your dirt-laden fingertips, where it hits the floor in slow drips. 

“Just… go get that patched up.” 

Lips curling over bright teeth, you salute him with your injured arm without so much as blinking, a line of blood running back down your wrist. 

“Yessir.”

For the entire 7-hour ride from Lagos to base camp, he stays glued to a seat in the back of the Quinjet, head bowed over a tablet as he busies himself with sorting through gathered intel.  Desperately ignores your animated banter with Natasha and Sam from the other side of the cabin, where you drown out the steady drone of the engine with your bright laughter. 

When a sudden shriek sounds from your direction, he spares a quick glance, finding you with your arms over your head, laughing and swatting the air as Redwing circles teasingly above you. Nearly snaps his tablet in half the moment you suddenly bend over, the stretch of your tactical suit clinging to your hips as you reach for the drone control panel on Sam’s wrist.

As soon as the wheels screech down on the tarmac, Steve gets to unloading the jet, hauling crate after crate of equipment just to avoid meeting your gaze. 

Hours later, when the paperwork’s taken care of and everyone’s retreated to their quarters, he drags himself to the training room on base.

Throws his fists against a punching bag, each strike a desperate attempt to sweat out the impure thoughts. Praying he can free himself of the images in his head—images of you—he doesn’t let up until the first rays of sunlight hit the gym. The skin over his knuckles start to split after a while, but he doesn’t bother wrapping them. They’ll heal soon enough.  

And when neither the 4-hour gym session nor the scalding hot shower afterward washes you away from his thoughts, burning brightly as ever in the back of his mind, he sinks into bed, fuming. 

You’re too new, too young.

It’s a breach of protocol, he’s technically your commanding officer. 

You don't think of him in that way. 

Yet, whichever way he bends it, there’s no escaping the truth. 

It’s a sharp, exquisite kind of ache, one that wraps around his chest, tightening with every breath, until it’s the only thing he can feel.

And damn it, it’s a torture sweeter than anything he's ever known.

[ariiadnes]

╭ ⿻ ･ TENDING TO THEIR INJURIES ( part iv. )

ଓ.° ・ wriothesley ･ neuvillette. genshin impact. repost. ・ ・ ・ pt i. pt ii. pt iii.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ wriothesley

wriothesley is far too familiar with getting injured on the job. it's nothing new, not really-- what's work if he doesn't get a little roughened up, anyway? it's certainly not a big deal ( to him, at least ).

he'll admit that some days are worse than others, but he's got too much to do, too much to protect. he can't afford to let anyone take him down. so all in all? he'll be fine. end of story.

you, on the other hand? he's not really sure. he's warned you from time to time that he's bound to run into trouble here and there; the fortress is not a place of innocence, after all, and you are both all too aware of that.

still, that doesn't stop you from mentally combusting every time he walks through the door, cuts and bruises all across his body. unfortunately, tonight is no different, even if his injury ( if anyone can even consider it to be one ) is a small cut on his cheek.

"jail. jail for a thousand years."

it's three in the morning, and yeah, he's a little sleep deprived, so he's not really sure if he heard you correctly. he blinks a few times, brows knit ever so slightly as he tries to register your words.

huh.

he's far more used to a lecture, but he'll take this instead.

"a thousand years?" he grins, though the amusement fades slightly as you use a washcloth to wipe the blood away. "that's a little cruel. seriously, do you think you could survive that long without seeing me?"

"guess we'll see."

he lets out a chuckle, though he sees through your annoyance. it may be a simple cut to him, but to you, it runs deeper and he knows that. he chooses to keep his silence instead of continuing the banter, only watching you carefully as you study him in search of other injuries you may have missed.

"i miss you when i'm gone for a thousand minutes." he leans in, closes that small distance between you two. "don't send me away." he murmurs. "i won't survive."

you don't say anything for a long while, a small sigh escaping through parted lips. it's his unique way of asking for forgiveness; of course you'll grant it. but you're just as stubborn as he is, so you don't quite give him the satisfaction or peace of mind that he expects.

you kiss him for a moment too short, then speak.

"how many hours is a thousand minutes?"

❀ ﾟ. ༄ neuvillette

neuvillette is not accustomed to the woes of human emotion. it is a fickle thing, he muses, and the nature of one's heart is a complexity he wishes to understand with ease. he tries, but there are so many variables and constants that even the ludex of fontaine cannot grasp it.

he is, admittedly, always a little doubtful of himself when it comes to such interactions. he is careful in his approach-- certainly not wary, but careful in the means of not causing offense. he is learning with time, after all, and though he has learned much through experience and through you, there is much he still remains naive to.

but this-- this, he understands : the silence that weighs heavy in the air, the lack of words so often spoken when you are together, the way your eyes won't meet his. your gaze is focused elsewhere as you throw all concentration into putting away the antiseptic and spare bandages, carefully organizing the supply kit in the most optimal manner in case of emergency. he is not sure how long you spend rearranging it, but surely it is a means of distraction to distance yourself from your feelings.

"thank you." neuvillette speaks up after a long while, notices how you pause at his gratitude. your body tenses up for the slightest moment, but you are quick to force yourself to relax.

"you're welcome."

he is unsure of how to proceed at this point. it is not often that he gets injured; such occasion is truly rare, but it is not something always in his control. he understands you are worried. he understands that you are afraid, that you might be angry. he wishes to speak, but when he hears that little sniffle, he freezes.

"please, look at me."

you listen. when he looks at you, there is something strange that stirs in his heart-- something so softly devastating at the sight of your sorrow. he hesitates, wonders if he will do the right thing to comfort you.

his hand cups your cheek, thumb wiping away the tear that trails down your face. there is the gentle curve of the lips-- a subtle reassurance, quiet in its nature, but deeply resonant.

"do not waste your tears on me." he tells you, gentle. "i'm alright. so long as the tides continue to turn, i will be here."

he presses a kiss to your forehead, smile growing ever so faintly as your tears continue to fall. it is something that cannot be helped; he knows this more than anyone, this weeping dragon. he pulls you into his arms, and until the tears are no longer shed, he will not let you go.