#gonna start resorting to taking the first thing i can find that looks like it could turn my brain off for a while

[honestloverboy]

I need to get so fucked up rn it's not even funny

[lymtw]

You've always done your best to drill into Toji's head that if he ever needs to have a heart to heart with you, you're there. He pushes his more vulnerable emotions down for you because he fears that if you ever see him break down, you'll be scared. Scared of possibly not being able to console him, scared that he'll break things, just scared in the worst ways possible.

Toji keeping it in works out for him anyway, because the man lives to protect your feelings. Your feelings are more than enough for him, even if he teases you for how emotional you are sometimes. He knows you're delicate, and you crumble at things that would be brushed off so easily by him, but that's not to say that he is asking you to modify yourself to make things easier on him. He's a big boy, he can handle hurricanes.

Toji invited you to spend the night at his apartment, bribing you with words that jumped out at you in his messages.

Movie night? My place?

You read the message over and over again for a good minute or so. Your heart started its usual routine of overworking itself, and you cursed yourself mentally for being such a lovesick fool for Toji. You loved the feeling that came with receiving a text from him first. He was looking for you, he was thinking about you, and from what you understood, he wanted to see you.

What's in it for me?

He chuckles behind his screen. You're an unintentional flirt, and it's amusing to him because it's the recurring reason for why you often find yourself wondering how you ended up with just his sheets wrapped around your body. You lack awareness in terms of how you phrase things, and Toji eats it up like a five course meal.

Time with your man. What else could you want?

Snacks, blankets, cuddles, xyz.

You bringing all that stuff with you?

Joking babe. I'll have all that here for you. Just come already.

Fine i'll be there in 10 <3

—

Toji could hear your car as you pulled up outside. He had everything set up on his coffee table. He would never tell you that he paid attention to the minor details of this setup. Maybe it would turn you off to hear that he unwrinkled a corner on a bag of chips, or that he squished the pillows so that they had more shape to them.

You knock, not having enough time to look around the area before the door opens. You're greeted by those devestatingly green eyes, a soft grin on his face when you smile at him. You throw your arms around his neck, causing him to stumble back at the force of your body in your momentum. He chuckles, sneaking a hand behind you to shut the door as you bombard him with kisses all over his face.

"Doll... do-..." you cut him off with your intoxicatingly sweet kisses. He can't help but smile at feeling. "Doll," he calls, finally snapping you out of your romantic assault.

"Whoops." You laugh, a bright hue forming on your cheeks. "Just... happy to be here, I guess."

"I can tell. You almost ran us into the coffee table."

You take a step back to look at what he laid out for your movie night. It's precious, absolutely treasurable. He remembered your favorite chip brand and flavor, he remembered that you like juice more than soda. Up until now, you didn't know if behind those hunter eyes he actually made an effort to remember you.

"I'm choosing the movie," you say, putting your hand on his bicep.

"Ha, you thought I was gonna fight you on that?"

A smile creeps onto your lips again. "Your house, your rules, no?"

He sighs, remembering the time he said that to you when you proposed that he should get a dog. You insisted and insisted but he didn't want a dog, so as a last resort, he said it. You deflated towards him for a little, but eventually he made you laugh and the hard feelings were blown away.

"Just choose the movie, brat." He flicks your forehead before settling on the couch. Your brows furrow as you rub the stinging area, your expression quickly lifting again when you go to join him.

The snacks were opened before you even decided on a movie. They were looking irresistible, and they are your favorites for a reason.

"Mm... does this one look good?" You turn over to Toji, chewing on a mouthful of crunchy chips.

"Swallow your damn food before you speak." He cracks when you stick your tongue out, chunky and pureed chips sticking to it. "You're so gross."

"We've established that, already," you say, giggling. You turn back to the TV, leaving Toji to ponder your response.

"I'm just gonna scroll through all of these for three seconds and whatever it lands on, we watch. Cool?"

"Whatever you want, babe."

You nod, and do a countdown.

3... scroll... 2... scroll... 1... scroll

"This is it. Get comfortable," you say as if he's not in his own home. "Do you have to pee?"

"Nah, princess." He grins at your question.

"Alriiight," you say, excitedly, before playing the movie.

—

It was a pretty good movie. It was funny, there was romance, and it had a really good cast. You got to a good part in the movie, where the main characters, who are in love, reach dramatic turmoil. The conflict was a choice that the woman had to make. It was between the woman leaving the country for the next three years to make a life for herself, or staying behind with the love of her life, unable to give him everything he wants and more. She was fiercely independent, which was heavily weighing her decision.

You teared up at the dialogue. Both characters were reaching for each other, waiting for the other to say 'I can't be without you' or 'i'll follow you wherever you go'. The result was heartbreaking. The woman left the country, not even stopping by the man's house to say goodbye. She blocked his number and cut off all contact with him, leaving him a total mess.

"What the fuck..." you hear from beside you. You turn to Toji, and when you notice his sparkling eyes, you pause the movie.

"Oh, baby," you coo. His eyes mirror yours, glossy and full of emotional damage. He doesn't give you this rare sight for long. He uses his knuckles to dry his eyes before looking at you again. "You okay?" You brush his cheek.

He takes your hand and puts it to his lips, before using it to pull you closer to him. "Tell me you would never consider pulling something like that," he murmurs between you and him. His face is nose distance away from yours, so you try to pull back. He keeps a firm grip on your hand, holding you there with him.

You use your other hand to hold his face. "I'm not her. I wouldn't do that, Toji. I'm always within your reach." You give him a soft smile, pressing your forehead to his. "Just call and text me all day, or you know, when you miss me. You know, I'll be waiting for it, anyway." You chuckle, gently kissing his face all over again.

He catches your lips with his and pushes you down onto the couch. You don't mind that he's crushing you. Nothing is more important than making him believe that you're not going anywhere, and if that means he has to hold you down with his weight, so be it.

You realized that that movie scene must have resonated somewhere deep within Toji if it managed to bring tears to his eyes. And for that to be followed by a question that didn't sound like him at all... it just made your heart even softer for him.

His hands touch the warm skin beneath your shirt, while keeping the slow steady synchronization of his lips with yours. His hands don't wander to your erogenous zones. Instead, he keeps them on your stomach where he can feel the rise and fall of your breathing. He breaks the kiss, looking at you for a mere two seconds before burying his face into your chest, another area where he can feel you breathing. If he focuses hard enough, your heartbeat will reach his ears, inevitably forcing his to sync with it.

You decide not to say anything else. There's nothing else you could say to the man finding comfort in just being attached to you. You play with his hair, and focus on how fast your heart is beating in your ears, and he sighs because deep down he's hoping you'll stay true to your word. He can't see this happening with anyone else after you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Inspo Credit: @nottorureadz

[verstappen-cult]

# WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I WENT TO TOUCH YOU NOW? | CL16

Or. . . 5 times you and Charles reach for the other and are oblivious about it + 1 time you aren’t.

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader.

Content Warnings: Smut, fingering, unprotected sex. Just two oblivious in love. This one is long, so, prepare yourself, go grab a cup of coffee and a snack. I haven’t written smut in a very long time so don’t expect anything fancy and please be nice. Enjoy! xx

You and Charles can’t keep your hands to yourselves. Everyone can see that. Everyone but you two.

Charles is always reaching for you. He’s the first one leaning in to kiss your cheek as a greeting when you see each other, lingering for a couple of seconds with his cheek against yours, feeling your soft skin, with his hand squeezing your waist ever so slightly. When you are out with your friends he’s always trying to sit by your side, waiting for the right moment to put his arm in the back of your chair, fingers brushing your shoulder and keeping up with the conversation as if nothing is happening. Charles tries to be smooth about it, he really tries.

And you are always reaching for Charles. Well, as his Press Officer it’s your job to be by his side. When you need him to pay attention to you as you’re explaining the plan for the day, you make sure to grab him by his biceps, not letting him go until you are finished, and even then you take a couple of seconds to pull away. Every time you pass each other around the paddock, you always find a way to catch his arm, his shoulder or his waist. Even when he’s too busy and late to something and you don’t actually need him for anything, he makes time for you.

But it wasn’t always like that.

There was a time when you would not even dare to think about touching him, too shy and wanting to be professional. It was a little hard when you had to be by his side almost all day, every day. You would try to not look directly at him – impossible to do given that you needed to do your job – but then Charles started to make a few jokes to break the ice and make some conversation, started to ask about your day, he started to care. And, well, the rest is history.

#1

New Year’s isn’t your favorite holiday, so, you spent it at home watching romcoms and went to sleep even before the clock hit midnight. Your friends weren’t happy but you promised to make it up to them. That is why you could not say no when your friends invited you to spend a few days with them on a Ski resort in Italy. Winter break was about to be over, after all. So, you showed up at the train station with all your bags and a little sleep deprived.

“I was about to call the police. I thought you were bailing on us.” Your friend says as a greeting, helping you with your bags. “You look like shit.”

“Oh, thank you, how sweet of you.” You roll your eyes but let her kiss your cheek. “I’ve been a little busy with the new season starting in a couple of weeks.”

“Let’s not talk about work,” You get on the train after her, looking for your seats and the rest of the group. “we actually told the same thing to Charles.”

You’re about to ask her what does she mean by that when you see the brown hair of Charles Leclerc. The next thing you see is his smile, dimples on display.

Since you started working with Charles as Media — then when you were promoted to PR Officer — there has not been a day you two haven't been together or communicating one way or another. So, anyone can say that becoming friends was bound to happen.

You make your way to him without a second thought.

"Hey, Charlie." Charles moves to the side, leaving the spot beside him free for you to sit. Which you immediately do.

"Are you excited?" He asks, turning his whole attention to you.

You have to look away, his green eyes looking at you so intensely that you feel he can see right through you into your soul.

"I've never skied before." You admit, cheeks flushed.

Charles' eyebrows shot up, his eyes flashing with enthusiasm. "Oh, you're gonna have so much fun."

The train starts moving, making you both look outside. You weren't planning on sitting with Charles, but you're not gonna stand up and leave him. Not that you actually want that.

You're about to ask him about the place you're going to spend the next days in when a yawn messes up everything.

Charles smiles softly at you, his hand patting your knee. He leaves it there for one, two, three, four seconds before removing it.

"It's not that far, really. But you could—" He clears his throat, eyes darting around. "I've been told my shoulder is the best spot to take a nap. It’s like very comfortable." Charles has a teasing but shy smile on his face, gaze finally landing on you.

You feel your face burning. You don't even need to look at yourself in a mirror to know how red your face is, probably the same color as his racing suit.

You look between his shoulder and his eyes, pretending to think about it when, in reality, you've made up your mind the second he stopped talking.

"I don't wa—"

Charles shakes his head, moving a little closer until your left side is touching his right one, not a breeze could pass between you.

You sigh, fidgeting with your fingers as you let your head rest on his shoulder. His scent hits you immediately, is calming, warm, earthy. And it reminds you of the cabin in the woods you and your family used to spend winters in when you were a kid. Surrounded by tall, green trees and a still lake.

The last thing you feel before falling asleep is Charles resting his head on top of yours.

*

"I can't do it. No, nope." You say, trying to move away, but the skis don't let you go that far.

"Yes, you can." Charles says from behind, startling you. You weren't expecting him to stay behind with you and your Ski instructor. "Just— let me." He tells the instructor, urging him to move out of the way.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m teaching you the basics,” He explains casually, as if you don’t have a certified instructor waiting a few meters away.

You smile when he positions himself by your side, too busy trying to make you stand correctly to notice how fondly you're looking at him.

"So, you need to bend your knees a little," You don't know if he notices, but his hands finding your waist to help you move just like he wants you to, send a shiver down your body. You can feel his warmth even through the layers of clothes. "Just like that, yes. You're doing great." Can he shut up? If he's going to praise you every time you do something right, you're not going to survive.

You look over your shoulder when you hear your friend's voices. You catch the exact moment they see you two and stop walking to turn around and go back to where they were before.

"Now, lean forward." Charles instructs you and you follow. Trying to regulate your breathing but with Charles so close to you is an impossible task. "Amazing!" You just leaned. It’s not that hard. "I need to— um... excuse me." He whispers, lowering one of his hand to your thigh and spreading your legs a little. When Charles looks up, his cheeks are tinted with a pretty pink color. You know you're blushing too.

Charles keeps on teaching you the basics. You even move a few meters with him by your side, his hands on your waist at all times.

"You're ready." The Monégasque says, smiling. "You are a fast learner, is she not?" From the first time in what feels like a lifetime, he asks the instructor, who is immediately moving closer.

"Of course," The man says, a polite smile directed at you. "Now we can slide down the mountain. And I'm going to be by your side at all times, so, you don’t need to worry."

You nod, excited to start skiing. Finally.

"You can go, Mr. Leclerc." The Italian man says. But Charles doesn’t move, he just keeps on looking at you, hands still on your waist. At this point you feel like they belong there. “Uh, Mr. Leclerc?” He insists. This time Charles looks at him, shaking his head to rearrange his thoughts. “If you want to go, I’ll take care of her.”

“Oh, yes! Sure, yeah.” Charles pulls away, leaving the ghost of his touch behind. “You’re gonna be alright?”

“I’m sure I’ll survive, Charlie.” He makes you chuckle. “I had a pretty good instructor and I have another one ready to catch me if I fall.”

It looks like Charles wants to say something else but chooses not to and, instead, looks at you one final time before sliding down the mountain.

“So, let’s go?” Your instructor positions himself by your side in the same spot Charles was before.

He doesn’t touch you like Charles did. And you don’t feel as safe as you felt with Charles by your side.

#2

It’s Ferrari SF-24 Launch day. Winter's break is over and Charles is back in Maranello.

Charles hasn’t seen you since yesterday evening, after spotting you having dinner with members of the PR team and, without thinking so much about it, walked into the restaurant. Someone invited him and he didn't hesitate to grab a chair and sit by your side.

It was a very pleasant dinner. And Charles didn't let anyone pay for it.

You said your goodbyes after that and you made sure to remind him that he needed to be before 8:00 AM for the launch, and to have time to go over all the details of what Charles needed to do that day.

That’s most definitely the only explanation as to why Charles is getting out of his car at 7:15 in the morning. Not because he wants to see you, of course not. It’s just because he has a lot of things to do. It’s an important day, after all.

“Good morning.” Charles greets some people of the team that are passing by, rushing to get everything ready for the launch in less than an hour.

He’s in a good mood. He just knows it’s going to be a great day. Charles also knows it’s gonna be his year.

"You're early."

Charles turns around at the sound of your voice. He finds you checking the time on your watch, a teasing smile adorning those plump, pink lips of yours.

"You said before eight."

You laugh, walking down the hallway. "Yeah, but not so early." He follows you, trying to catch up with you. "However, I'm glad you decided to show up on time, we have a lot to do."

"I wanna go back to sleep." He complains, pouting like a child.

He makes you laugh, again. Charles thinks your laugh is his favorite sound in the world. Beside the sound of the SF-24.

Charles really likes to make you laugh.

"Wait, are you laughing at me?" He pretends to be offended, and you mimic the sound of his voice, bringing your hand to your chest.

"Me? Never!"

"You sure?" He stops walking, stopping right in front of you. "Because you know what I'm gonna do if you're actually laughing at me?"

You look at him suspiciously, fighting the smile that wants to make its way into your face.

Charles takes a step towards you, making you take a step back.

"Charles, whatever you're thinking—don't."

"What? I'm not doing anything!" He sounds innocent, even raising his hands in surrender. But he's still walking towards you, shortening the distance until he's so close you can count the freckles on his face.

Before you notice what's happening, he's tickling you.

It makes you throw all the things you had on your hands to the floor. You try to pull away and make him stop, but he just keeps going.

Your laugh fills the hallway you're currently in.

But you can't take it anymore, your stomach hurting for laughing so much. It’s also only a matter of time before someone comes to see what's happenig, so, you do the only thing your brain can conjure up to make him stop: hit him. Even if it's just a little push.

You raise your arms, ready to push him and defend yourself. But Charles reflexes are good and so fast, because before you can do anything, he's grabbing your wrists stopping you.

Your laugh dies in your throat.

Charles amusement is clear on his face, eyes shining with mirth.

"You are," You take a deep breath, trying to regulate your rapid breathing. "a very bad man."

He laughs, throwing his head backwards. "I'm just defending my honor, boss."

You shake your head, throwing daggers at him with your eyes. But Charles doesn’t react at all, he just caresses the inside of your wrists with his thumb.

“I promise to behave if you don’t laugh at me again.” He pouts, and your heart does a black flip inside your chest, skipping several beats.

Hesitantly, you reach out to rest a hand on his chest, giving him a little playful push. You’re not sure if you imagine the shiver you feel under your hand or if it really happens.

You chuckle, looking straight into his eyes. “I can’t make that promise.”

Charles lets go of your wrists against his will. He bends over to pick up the things you were carrying, but doesn’t give them back to you.

“If we end up getting scolded, I’m blaming you.”

Charles looks at you for what feels like hours, taking you in. He really thinks he could just watch you all day and he’d find a new freckle on your face, or a glint in your eyes he hadn’t seen before.

He leans in, so, so close, that feels your breath hitch. Charles thinks you’re gonna pull away for a second but you don’t make a move, you just keep looking at him with a indescribable expression.

“You can do whatever you want. I’ll take it.” He says in your ear, kissing your cheek before pulling away.

You stop breathing, all you can do is blink at him while your mind echoes his words.

“Shall we?”

Charles doesn’t wait for you, he resumes his walking anyway. It takes you a long time to snap out of it and follow him.

You can’t even remember what you are supposed to be doing today.

#3

It’s day two of pre-season testing in Bahrain.

You’re in the middle of talking with a reporter about the questions he can ask Charles when you are interrupted by a hand being placed on your lower back. You immediately recognize the perfume.

"Hey, I was looking for you." Charles says, fingers caressing the spot between your shirt and your trousers. His calloused hand drawing patters on your lower back shouldn't make you feel as flustered as you feel. It's not the first time he does it, so why can't you just act normal?

"Hey, Charles." The reporter says, drawing the Monégasque's attention. "Can I ask you just a few questions about second day of testing?" He doesn't need to ask him, you already agreed about it.

Charles look at you, silently asking if it's okay.

"Just testing, okay?" You tell the reporter, who nods in understanding, already moving in front of Charles alongside his camera man.

Charles squeezes your waist before giving two pats on your lower back, so low that he's almost touching your ass. You eyes widen and you take a sharp intake of breath. You really try to play it cool. But you can tell Charles noticed your reaction when you see the smirk on his beautiful, stupid face.

The reporter begins with the first question, Charles' eyes only snapping to him when the man draws his attention.

You don't listen to one single question, which is, you know, an idiotic mistake because being alert of what a reporter's asking is basically your job. But you find yourself looking at Charles' lips more than one time during the six minutes the interview lasts.

You can't do nothing more than to stand there frozen in place.

The reporter thanks Charles, that much you hear, but you still can't seem to snap back to the present. What is Charles doing? He's being extra touchy lately, not that it bothers you, but you can't seem to focus in anything when he has a hand on any part of your body. Then, add that intense gaze that, apparently, has reserved for you only.

Charles is definitely going to be the death of you.

"You seem to have your head in the clouds." Charles' accented voice is what draws you back to reality.

"What?"

What he does next is definitely something you were not expecting, not now, not even in a million years.

Charles cups your chin with his right hand, thumb brushing your bottom lip. If you weren't hyper aware of every little movement, you wouldn't have felt it.

Your gaze drops to his lips and Charles has the nerve to stick his tongue out to lick his lips. They look so wet and inviting, all you need to do is move an inch closer and lean in to—

"See something you like?"

You feel your heartbeat in your ears, so loud you're pretty sure everyone in Bahrain can hear it. Charles waits for your answer as you panic, replaying his words over, and over again for minutes or hours — you don't even know.

You take Charles' hand and guide it away from your face. It takes all the willpower inside of you to let go of his hand and run away from him.

#4

It wasn't a great start of the season. Everyone agrees on that. Even the boy stepping out of the Ferrari, who started the first race of the season in front row and had such a hard time trying to drive and secure a spot on the podium.

You are glad at least one Ferrari got there in the end. But you're not as happy as you'd be if Charles was the one standing there.

Charles takes his helmet and balaclava off, his messy hair standing in every direction while sweat runs down his face. You force yourself to look away.

He makes his way to you, given that you have his cap and rings. Charles really tries to smile at you, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You know how disappointed he is. With himself and his team. Mostly with himself.

“Just a few questions and then you’ll be on your way to the hotel, okay?” Charles just nods, busy putting all his rings and bracelets on.

Charles feels like shit. All he wants to do is go back to the hotel and sleep, he doesn't even want to know what happened or how they can fix it for next week. He wants to sleep.

"Hey," You stand a little closer, not thinking about anything but trying to make him talk, say anything to pull him out of his head. "It's just the first race of the season. There are a lot more to go." You rub the back of his neck, feeling the hairs there stand up.

Charles closes his eyes and lets his head fall forward. So, you take it as a good sing to keep rubbing and massaging.

Charles groans when you rub between his neck and shoulder, a very sensitive spot for him. He slowly opens his eyes again, looking at you from beneath his eyelashes.

"Come on, let's finish with this and get you to bed." You tentatively slide your hand over his shoulder and left side of his body, stopping at his waist to wrap an arm around it.

For the first time since the race finished, you see a smile forming on his lips. When you make eye contact, you know he has the perfect answer for it and, for the looks of it, it's definitely going to leave you flustered.

"If you wanted me in your bed that badly, all you had to do was ask."

It definitely makes you flush furiously, but you decide not to say anything. Mostly because you don't know what to say. Charles has been saying all these things for a very long time now and you don't know what it means, what he's playing at.

You let go of Charles when you reach the reporter, moving a little to the side to give them some space. The reporter knows what to ask but you still are on high alert, she's known for asking rude and out of place questions.

At first everything goes alright, so, you use that time to answer some messages and check out some emails. Until what the woman says next, makes your heart drop.

"You say you are capable, but it is your fault alm—" You don't let her finish, you interrupt the interview immediately by standing in front of Charles, like trying to shield him from the hurtful words of an unprofessional reporter.

"I'll make sure you receive a fine for that." It's all you say before blindly reaching for Charles.

You take his hand, dragging him out of there. You don't stop for nothing, not when a reporter asks for an interview, not when fans approach Charles to ask for pictures.

You keep walking and walking until you are in front of Charles' driver room. Your heart is hammering inside your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"I'm going to talk to—"

Charles grabs your shoulders, turning you around so you're looking at him. "Don't worry about it. You know I don't care about what they say."

His words make you angry.

"But I care!" You exclaim, immediately regretting it. The corners of Charles' mouth go downwards, and he steps closer. "She deserves that fine."

"I know she deserves it and she will get it," His hands trail over your arms, stopping at your wrists for a second before holding your hands. "but right now I need a hug."

You blink up at him.

"Would you hug me?"

He doesn't need to ask twice. You are moving before you actually process his words, probably because you've been thinking about hugging him since the first time he announced over the radio how the brakes where not responding to him.

Sliding your hand around his shoulders comes like a second nature to you, like is something you've done your whole life. You don't care that he's drenched in sweat, you hide your face in the crook of his neck anyways. And it's then that you learn how much you like the mixture of his scent with the sweat of racing for over two hours.

Charles wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly against his body. It's then that he learns how well you fit against his body. Like you belong there. He knows you belong in his arms.

#5

Charles finished third.

It's his first podium of the season.

You wait by the side but he doesn't see you. He has the most pretty and bright smile on his face as he removes the balaclava from his head. He has the most pretty and bright smile when he greets and congratulates Max and Checo.

And you really think that his smiles widens when he finally looks to the side, right where you are alongside his Ferrari team.

Charles makes his way to his team. Everyone is so happy cheering for him and congratulating him for his first podium. Everyone is happy.

But no one can't he as happy as you are.

Not when he sees you for the first time and rushes to hug you. It's quick, not enough, but they're pulling him away for the post-race interview. He needs to go up on that podium and make everyone proud.

*

You’re pretty sure you took like a dozen pictures of Charles on the podium. The ones where he's looking down at his team are your favorites because it looks like he's looking at you.

Post-race Charles is your favorite kind of Charles. But post-race Charles on the podium... that has to be what being in heaven feels like.

You laugh as you see him approaching hospitality with his trophy and champagne, and a broad smile spread over his face.

He's surrounded by people in a matter of seconds, as wells as Ollie by his side who can't seem to stop smiling. You're very proud of them.

When you see a few reporters approaching, you take into action.

The second Charles sees you, he's forgetting about anything and everyone around him. All he wants is to hug you and tell you how well and right it felt, but there are so many people that he has to settle with you grabbing the hem of his race suit to make him walk into hospitality, away from everyone.

"Go take a shower. Your team wants to celebrate, even Carlos wants to go." You smile up at him.

You don't know how to describe the expression on his face, so, you simply don't.

He snaps out of a his trance and makes his way to his driver room, but when you call his name he stops, turning around so fast that his neck starts to hurt.

"I'm so proud of you, Charlie."

Charles doesn't care if the trophy or the champagne bottle breaks, he just let them fall to the floor and runs to you, lifting you in his arms.

You giggle, feeling light as a feather. Like you're actually on cloud nine.

"Charlie!" Andrea's voice startles the both of you.

You are forced to pull away, but Charles leaves his hand on your waist, not letting you go completely.

"Come on, hurry up! We want to celebrate."

Andrea doesn't bat an eye, he doesn't care that he found you and Charles in a compromising position — kind of? well, it definitely is unprofessional — and that you still are very close to each other.

Charles groans and lets you go. You miss his touch already.

"Don't drink too much, okay?"

"As if I would let him." Andrea says, rolling his eyes.

"I'm a grown man!" Charles screams before shutting the door of his room.

+1

You're watching a movie in bed — wrapped in a hotel bathrobe, freshly out of the shower, with a delicious lotion on your body and feeling like a pampered baby — when there's a knock on your door.

When you open the door, you find a disheveled and out of breathe Charles standing there, leaning against the opposite wall.

"Charles?" You ask, confused.

You look to both sides of the hallway but nobody else is there.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were out celebrating."

"I was—" He says, breathing heavily. "I was but then I just — I realized that I didn't want to be there."

"Okay?" You're not getting any of what he's saying, more confused than ever. "Are you drunk?"

"No! I barely drank anything. It was just a glass."

"Then," You shrug, looking behind you into the room. "I was watching a movie. Do you... want to come in?"

You still don't know why he knocked on your door, but you are not letting him out in the hallway.

Charles accepts the invitation. Just not in the way you would've thought.

It takes you a second to notice a pair soft lips against your own. But when you finally register that you are being kissed, Charles is pulling away from you, a shy smile on his face.

"What are you doing?" You ask, trying to find some coherent words in your fuzzy brain.

Charles' face falls, shoulder slumping slightly. "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry." He starts rambling, moving his hands in the air. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking properly. I thought—we had, I mean... You and—"

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed to take him out of his misery. That's definitely the only reason why you crashed your lips with his, pressing yourself against his body.

Charles moves quickly, walking you backwards into the room and closing the door with his foot.

You sigh into the kiss. A sigh that says finally.

"I think," You whisper against his lips, gasping for air. But Charles keeps on assaulting your lips. "we should talk ab—"

Charles groans pulling away, just enough to talk, lips brushing against yours with every breath. "We could. Or I could show you all the things I've been dreaming on doing to you, and we can talk later."

Your heart starts thumping so fast that your breath hitches in your throat. Charles takes your silence, and your body's reaction, as a yes.

This time, Charles takes his time. He cups your cheek with one hand, thumb caressing your cheekbone so softly — as if you’re made of glass and could break at any moment — and sliding lower, the pad of his finger brushing against your bottom lip.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers, gaze fixed on your plump lips.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since…” You try try to think about it, to remember the very first time you thought about Charles being more than a friend. But it seems like it has always been that way.

“Forever.” Charles finishes for you.

Yes! Your insides scream.

“Would you let me show you?”

You frown, titling your hear to the side. “What?”

“How much I want you.”

There’s no need to verbally say yes, you find that is so much better if you show him. So, you kiss him.

Kissing Charles feels like walking in a soft, pillowy cloud, like everything is falling back into place, like things are how they always should have been.

There is warmth blossoming in your chest, fireworks exploding all around you as Charles leans in closer, lips exploring each other for the first time. You hold onto Charles' shoulder as if you're gonna fall and wake up, realize that this was just a dream. You don't want it to be a dream.

You let him guide you to the bed as his hands rest on your hips, wrinkling the bathrobe with his hands.

His lips are soft yet the kiss is demanding. Your lips part slightly, allowing Charles' tongue to slip inside and explore your mouth.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, he pulls away. His pupils are dilated and his breathing erratic. "You don't—" He sighs, closing his eyes as if trying and ground himself. Charles takes your hand, silently asking for permission and, when you nod, guides it to his crotch, making you feel how hard he is. "You don't even know the effect you have on me."

Charles doesn't give you time to answer, not even to think about anything but how much you want to kiss him, and feel him, and be his.

"Can I unfasten this?" He asks, lips trailing kisses down your neck. You nod your approval, but Charles shakes his head. "I need words, baby."

"Yes," You don't recognize your own voice, it's feels strange to your ears. "Yes, you can."

Charles smiles, grazing his teeth along your neck, nipping and sucking along the way. You moan when he sucks right above your pulse point.

He takes his time unfastening your bathrobe, letting it fall slowly the floor. In seconds, you're completely bare in front of him. You should feel ashamed, a part of you actually feels embarrassed to be naked in front on a man — in front of Charles. But right now, desire and longing are coursing through your veins, clouding your mind. Your body screams for Charles.

Charles hands are soft on your skin, he splays them on your chest, feeling the thumping of your heart; it makes him smile.

"Would you lay down for me?" He purrs. And who are you to say no?

With shaky legs you climb onto the bed, lying down against the pillows. You can still hear the movie playing in the background, but you couldn't care less, not right now.

You can only watch as Charles removes every piece of clothing from his body. You knew Charles was well toned, you have seen Charles without a shirt, but seeing him here in your room, in a whole different context, makes you close your legs and lift your hips from the bed, searching for something, anything that only Charles can give you.

He rubs his hands up your legs, rubbing your thighs, as he climbs on top of you. His lips find yours one more time, your breath quivering.

"So pretty." Charles grunts, basking in your beauty. It lasts only a couple of seconds because you hide behind your hands. "No need to hide, baby." He pulls your hands away, sliding them over your collarbone, stopping on your chest and grabbing your breasts.

You arch your back against his touch, moans spilling from your mouth and filling the room.

"So good, so, so good." You blurt out, getting lost in the pleasure his hands are giving you, pinching and squeezing your breasts. One of his hands is replaced for his mouth, and you have to force yourself to open your eyes to see the view of Charles on top of you, making you come undone with his mouth.

His left hand leaves your breast as his mouth keeps the assault on your breast, he slowly lowers it to part your legs, making you squirm.

You've never been this wet before, and Charles notices the moment his fingers make contact with your cunt. Charles begins to rub circles on your throbbing clit, a desperate whine escaping your lips.

"Please," You beg, the only word leaving your lips over and over again.

Charles takes pity on you, knowing exactly what you need. So, he gives it to you; one of his fingers slips in, causing you to buck your hips involuntarily.

"So good for me." Charles croons, taking your lips with his own, swallowing all your moans. "You think you can take my cock, pretty girl?" He asks, slipping in another finger, pressing them upward. Your brain feels fuzzy, but in such a good way. You don't need to be asked twice, a yes leaves you lips immediately as you grind your hips desperately into his hand.

"I can, Charles—please I can take it." You moan, making Charles slow his movements.

Charles pulls out his fingers, and you whine desperately at the loss. "I got you, baby." But then a thought crosses his mind and he curses under his breath, closing his eyes for a second. "I don't—shit I don't have a condom."

You make grabby hands, making him lean forward so you can touch him. You cup his face with your hands, eyes finding his green ones. There's sweat on his forehead, his face flushed, and you think that post-race Charles and bedroom Charles are definitely battling to win first place.

"We're both clean, I know." You graze your fingers over his pecs, making him shudder. "Just—please, Charlie. I need you."

Who is he to say no to you?

The mere thought of fucking you bare is enough to send his mind reeling.

Charles aligns himself between your legs, the tip of his cock gathering your wetness and making you both moan at the feeling.

You dig your nails in his shoulder as he slowly starts to bury himself inside of you. Charles leans to kiss you, and is messy and wet, tongues and spit mix together as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling ever so slightly, which makes him moan against your mouth. So you do it again.

Charles kisses you with so much desperation, desire consuming you both. He bottoms out and you can't reciprocate the kiss anymore, not when he stars slamming his hips, setting an agonizing pace.

Charles fucks you into the bed wincing as he feels you bite his shoulder, a poor attempt of trying not to scream and let the whole hotel floor know what you are doing.

"How does it feel? Is that what you wanted, uh?" He groans, brushing a strand of hair out of your sweaty face.

"Yeah, feels so good, Char. So good." Your whole body is burning, you feel so deliciously filled.

Charles bends your legs, pushing them against your chest as he finds a new angle to keep on fucking you. He starts thrusting faster, holding onto your legs so hard you know there will be bruises tomorrow.

It's too much. You don't even have time nor words to warn him before you are coming, clenching around Charles' cock.

"So tight. So. Fucking. Tight." Charles whispers, pace faltering as he feels his own climax approaching. He keeps thrusting into you, chasing his own orgasm.

You are a moaning, whimpering mess, and you let Charles use you as much as he likes, you let it know that over and over again.

"That's it, baby. 'm gonna come now," Those are Charles' final words as he pulls out, pumping himself a few more times until he's painting your chest with his cum.

Charles plops down on the bed next to you, both panting and completely exhausted.

"Are you okay?" He asks in a hoarse voice.

You turn to look at him, fingers playing with his cum on your chest. The only thing you can do is nod, too exhausted to even to talk.

"What? Did I fuck your brains out?" Charles teases, leaning in to leave a chaste kiss to your lips. It's so innocent and soft, the total opposite of what you did just moments ago.

"Shut up!" You breathe out, giggling. There is still a buzzing in your ears and a tingling sensation in your cunt. But you feel good.

"Come on," He says, standing up and reaching for your hands.

You frown, standing on shaky legs. He teases you some more and you end up pushing him away.

"What are we doing?"

"Taking a bath," He explains, tugging at your hand. "We need to clean you up."

"I just took a shower, this is all your fault." You complain, his green eyes boring into you.

"You liked it." It's not a question.

He tugs at your hand again and you follow, you really would follow Charles to the end of the world. Charles can't hide the big, stupid smile on his face. "You said you were watching a movie, so, we are going to watch a movie."

© verstappen-cult, 2024 — do not repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[zoros-sake-bottles]

What you'd argue with them over! Pt.2 (Zoro, Sanji & Law)

READ PT. 1 FIRST

https://www.tumblr.com/zoros-sake-bottles/719410532748328960/what-youd-argue-with-them-over-pt1-zoro?source=share

Zoro

After that argument the with Zoro about him not caring for his health you weren’t the same

You began allowing him to do what he saw fit

He’d injure himself and you wouldn’t say a word

You refused to nag him-to beg him to think about his body, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care

So you thought of a way to prove your point…and that was putting yourself in harms way constantly

In order for him to understand where you were coming from, he was going to have to see it himself … on you

So the day after that you continuously allowed yourself to get hurt in battles

At first it was little things like scrapes, cuts and bruises, Zoro saw these but didn’t pay them much mind because of how small they were

But over time it became more excessive, you allowed your opponent to freely bang you up before defeating them

You’d come back with bigger bruises covering your rib cage, you even had a busted lip

At one point he just couldn’t take it anymore and while you were getting treated he burst into the room and told Chopper to take five, leaving you two alone

“....What the hell was that out there?” is all he says as he stares down at you on the hospital cot

“A fight-”

“Screw that y/n, you know what I mean!” his jaw is clenched as he looks at your body all bruised and bleeding

You sit up holding your broken rib and Zoro’s arms go out to help you but you push them away

“Look at yourself, seriously, you shouldn’t be-”

You ignore him, going as far to stand up

Your legs wobble excessively as you take small steps

“Y/n sit down, your in no shape to go do anything right now-”

Your leg buckles as you continue to try and walk your breath becoming more like a wheeze

“Y/n! Alright! Enough! I get it!” Zoro grabs your shoulders and looks into your eyes

His body shakes a bit and his eyes are deeply concerned as he guides you back onto the cot

“You proved your point just-.....sit down” his voice stresses as he helps you onto the cot and covers you with a blanket

Despite the pain your in you find it in you to laugh a bit, it makes you look unhinged

You have dried blood under your nose and your bottom lip is swollen but all you can think about is how your plan worked

Zoro’s sits down on a stool in front of you, he shakes his head and sighs as he runs a hand down his face “crazy woman…” he mutters

Sanji

Since the argument Sanji has apologized to you countless times and you know that he means them some what

He's sorry that he upset you, he's sorry that you felt like you had to resort to physical violence

He doesn't understand the issue at hand and so as much as you hated what you were gonna do you had to give him a taste of what you experience with him on a daily

You started subtly allowing yourself to be hit on by males

You were a girl that could handle yourself so usually Sanji just watched (intensely and angrily) in these situations as you told the men off

But can you imagine his face when you didn't tell the guys to kick rocks?!

When you accepted the sleazy compliments and even gave some!

Sanji nearly went comatose as he watched you joyfully conversate with a scumbag at a bar

His jaw dropped as you laughed at the strangers jokes and even poured him more sake in his shot glass

"Mon cheri!? W-what's-I-I…why'd you-"

"Why what?" you reply nonchalantly

"T-that garbage man was…he was sexualizing your body dear!"

"Your being dramatic Sanji he was just expressing to me how much he admired my beauty-"

"My love no, that scum was undressing you with his eyes"

"your being ridiculous"

Sanji looks hurt as he tries to appeal to you somehow but his words just weren’t getting through

The man comes back and right in front of Sanji he’s about to caress your hair

There's no way Sanji would allow that, he ends up kicking the half drunk in the stomach sending him flying through the bar

Your jaw drops as you look up at him

Sanji face is scrunched as he looks at the guy knocked out, half his body in the bar and the other half hanging out

“Sanji-”

Sanji turns to you and takes your hands in his and with an inhale he says

“Mon amour, I cannot imagine how you feel when this happens to me and I am so sorry that I didn’t take the issue serious enough to the point you had to do a demonstration like this, I'm a fool” 

He rubs your hands with his thumbs and he seems still very heated from the entire ordeal

You can’t even stay mad at Sanji because of how jealous he looks

“I forgive you baby, I'm glad you can see what I go through…” 

You smile softly at him and he looks at you with a smudge of a smile

“....you didn’t have to compliment his hair….it wasn’t even nice” Sanji mumbles still jealous

You giggle and caress his face 

“You're right it was an ugly orange color but do you know what my favorite color is?”

Sanji looks at you curiously

“Yellow” 

You give him a kiss and he blushes not even thinking about that stupid drunk from before. He just wants to drown in your praises

Law

After the argument you both had before he has been acting as if it never happened

He gave you time to cool of but when you came back he didn’t apologize but rather gave you a task to fulfill

Its as if that was his way of saying that you overreacted and that it wasn’t that deep

You decided to keep it all inside, that's all Law ever did anyway so he shouldn’t have had a problem with you doing the same

You were tired of being labeled as over emotional every time something got you riled up or hurt your feelings

You wanted to be taken seriously by Law

One day you were listening in on Law's meeting that he had purposely left you out of

It seems he was planning on having the crew go to a dangerous island that had a poneglyph on it next 

This idea is tossed around because Law isn’t risky and nonchalant like his fellow members of the worst generation

He is precise as a surgeon should be

You were all running low resources and the island was close so it was decided that the crew would stop at the island for resources ONLY

So once you all arrived at the island you decided to sneak off and take prints of the poneglyph

It definitely wasn't easy and you had plenty of cuts and scrapes but it was all worth it and you couldn't wait to see the look on Law's face!

When you arrived back it was about afternoon, you searched for the submarine in the water but your eyes landed on your irritated boyfriend instead

He leaned against a rock his arms crossed his head tilted down

"y/n ya, tell me three things"

You can feel the disapproval oozing off of him and before you know it your being 'shambled' 

You reappear in front of him

"What was the plan?" "Where have you been?" "Who's your captain?"

"The plan was to retrieve resources and I chose to act alone on my own little mission, I don't know what the big deal is you do it all the time" You scoff turning your head away

Almost immediately he is turning your head back with his long slender fingers

"Do I look like I'm in the mood for games? Do you know how long I've been standing here?, We were done with the mission hours ago" he stares into your soul with his dark eyes

You almost always came close to folding when he had you like this

"I-...well-" You sputter watching his sharp eyebrow lift

"You can't even defend yourself, look at you blubbering like a moronic fish"

You feel embarrassed slightly but you don't back down "I got a print of the poneglyph" 

You shove the scroll into his face but it's almost as he doesn't see it

"Does go and buy some rice and dried meat sound like go and get the poneglyph to you? If so I'm going to check your hearing right now"

"I-"

He holds your wrist and you wince as he examines you, even though he's clearly upset, he's tending to you like your made out of glass

Its silent as he slowly rotates you, he touches at your shoulder and when you hiss it confirms whatever analysis going on in his brain

"You need stitches" he grumbles

"I'll do it myself, anyway look" you thrust the poneglyph into his face again

He takes the print from you and tsks before making it disappear 

"Law!-"

"What? Am I supposed to be happy you went against my orders and got yourself injured all to prove meager point"

Your shoulders sink "...did-...did it work at least?"

He sighs as takes off his hat before running his hands through his raven hair

"....It's hot as hell…and…i'm hungry"

You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow, was he changing the subject "What?"

"My back is killing me…"

You blink, was this his way of apologizing? Was he trying to communicate now?

You swallow and kick at the grass "I-I…I can massage it for you" you blush lightly "if you want-"

"That sounds heaven sent" he gives a small smirk 

"Oh-okay, lets go then-" 

Your body is pulled in close by him

"L-law?"

"You know, you never answered my third question he says softly

"Huh?-"

"Who's your captain?" he rest his forehead against yours

Your heart beats quickly and you find yourself trying to slow your breathing

"Y/n ya…"

"....you...your my captain"

[stabortega]

NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Having to deal with the aftermath of that situation was definitely worse then finding out the truth.

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!G!P!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Mentions of sex, dirty talking and sexting. Knife play. Mentions of kinks, nothing explicit. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's Note: Still think my writing is trash but you guys seem to like it. 💜

MASTERLIST.

"What the actual fuck?!" Jasmine almost yelled as Jenna shoved her inside one of the dressing rooms in the set, while she tried to shut the other actress up. "Thank god someone's paying that poor girl's college."

"This is not fucking funny, Jasmine. I shouldn't have told you." Jenna locked the door behind her, looking at her apprehensively. She made a terrible mistake by telling Jasmine what went on last night. "And now they expect me to work with her? After I-"

"Seen her dick? Oh god, what will be of you?" The black girl laughed, while sitting down on the couch. "Chill, alright? She probably doesn't even know you donated. I mean, what was your username?"

Jenna gulped. "I don't wanna say it."

"Come on, was it that obvious??" Jasmine rolled her eyes, waiting for an answer.

"It was my first name then the first four digits of my birthday."

"I cannot fucking believe you."

Living in New York wasn't easy. Every apartment was obnoxiously expensive, so you had to resort to leave the city and start living in Brooklyn. It was a nice neighborhood, the best you could afford if we're being completely honest. Moving to the big city was by far the best and the worst decision you've ever made. Other than starting college, obviously.

I mean, you loved every second of it, but it started to fuck your financial life right up the ass.

"You should create an Only Fans or something." You almost spit the whiskey shot you were drinking right back to your cup, looking at your friend as if she just told you that she had killed three men with a needle. "I'm serious, (Y/N). Do you know how much money you can get just by posting out some feet pics, or whatever?"

"I'm not gonna sell pictures of my feet for cash, Liana." She shook her head no while taking a sip of her Appletini.

"Then don't. Sell your dick pics, or livestream. Come on, I know how much you're struggling and you know you're putting that body to waste. What's the worse thing can happen?"

And she was right. You started out with just an account on that website, posting some pictures here and there; until one of your followers suggested livestreaming and said she would pay some good money just to watch you cum on your stomach (which obviously, she did). It happened so fast that, when you realized it, you were able to get yourself a better place right downtown, pay off your college debts and buy a professional video camera to shoot some amateur movies. And no, not the pornographic kind.

You wanted to be a director someday, but you were also really good with a camera; which is why you got the opportunity to work in the upcoming Scream movie as an assistant videographer (and because Liana put in a good word for you). It was your first real gig in your area of interest, you couldn't be more excited.

The first day was just like any other. You got to meet a few people and get a hold of the equipments you were going to use.

"Ay, (Y/N)! Come here for a sec!" Your boss, Dave, called your name while you were looking at one of the IMAX cameras, which you've never got the opportunity to film with. You realized he wanted to introduce you to some people, which he did. You just didn't expect it would be one of the protagonists (and the newest it actress of Hollywood). "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenna."

You extended your hand for her to shake, which she did after looking at it for a couple of seconds, almost if she was analyzing you. "Nice to meet you too, (Y/N)."

And that was pretty much it, you guys didn't exchanged any other words besides that on that particular day. You even thought that she could be avoiding you, for whatever reason. All throughout the day, you felt her gaze on you multiple times, but everytime you looked at her, she just looked away.

"You're definitely not subtle." Jasmine whispered in Jenna's ear, while she watched you handle one of the camera films. "I'm pretty sure that she can physically feel your eyes on her butt as we speak."

"She's definitely gonna find out that I was on her stream last night." The Ortega took a deep breath, looking away when she realized you looked at her again.

"She's not, don't get paranoid. You have the most obvious and boring username ever? Yes. It would take just one Google search to figure out your identity? It would. But still!" Jenna got up from the chair she was sitting, realizing that all she wanted to do was to smoke this off.

"You're not helping, Jasmine." She took out her pack of Marlboro's and her lighter once she was outside. "I never even watched porn before, not even by myself."

"And now you donated $1500 to a complete stranger just so she could cum while moaning your name. That's a character development." Jasmine stood beside Jenna, who had just started smoking so she could even try to forget that she wanted to sit on her coworker's dick less than 24 hours ago.

"I'm never doing that again, Jasmine. It's inhumane and gross. It was the first and the last time."

jenna2709: thought about you a lot today.

"Oh, did you? Good to hear that." She locked the door behind her and sat on her bed. That was Jenna's, at least, 10th day of watching your streams nonstop. And she had just "caught" you in the beginning of your livestream (which meant that she had the notifications of your page on and was too much of a chicken to admit it). So that meant that you weren't even undressed yet, you were just rubbing your dick over your sweatpants and chatting a litte bit with your followers before you started your actual show. "What exactly were you thinking of, huh?"

jenna2709: of me sucking your cock under this table while you tell me how much of a good girl i am.

Jenna realized what she said after she already sent the message. Where did that came from? She thought while looking intensely at the livestream, hoping you would just stop with the teasing and take your cock out of your pants for her to see (and drool). "Oh baby, I'm sure you're very good with your mouth. Wanted to cum right on your throat and make you swallow every drop."

jenna2709: i would be honored to be your cum dump.

"Okay, I crossed the line." She took a deep breath, not even recognizing who was that person inside of her, the person that would say the most obscene and erotic shit that she ever heard. It was almost if something awakened inside of her everytime she saw you. Every couple of days, at exactly 10PM, she would lock herself in her hotel bedroom and fuck her pussy so deep until she passed out from having like, five orgasms. And that was the easy part, obviously. The hardest part was definitely waking up in the morning and having to look at you as if she didn't saw your dick inside of a fleshlight the night before.

Jenna grew up christian. In a american dream type of household. But getting in touch with Hollywood and all of the film industry made her get out of her bubble and quite literally, discover the world. She drank, she smoked, she went to 2AM parties at some A-List celebrity's house that she never even met before. But sex? Never sex. She met a few people here and there, but nothing further. It made her think about that, the fact that she couldn't even be interested enough in someone to actually have some sort of contact with them; but with you, she would stay all night thinking about you fucking her raw and senseless until she couldn't remember who she was.

"Stop teasing, Jenna. We both know you were born to be my cum dump, and mine only." You were so horny imagining having that stranger on her knees while she had her mouth open, waiting for you to dump your cum inside of her pretty little throat. You took your cock out of your pants, a little bit earlier than you've expected, but you were getting so worked up that you didn't even thought about your stream routine. You started to stroke the member gently, feeling your dick pulsate right on the palm of your hand. "I know that you're the only one who can take care of this right, don't you think?"

jenna2709: if you were mine, i would make you cum on my pussy everyday.

Jenna started to get scared. Who was this person that was hiding inside of her? Was she really like that? Is she the female version of Christian Grey and doesn't know it yet? How the fuck she got so horny all of a sudden?

She knew that the reason you were playing that little game with her was merely money. But there was a part of her, a tiny part that hoped that you felt attracted to her as much as she felt to you. Even if you'd never seen her face, or her body. It didn't mattered if she had just met you a couple of days ago; she wanted you to want her, the same way she wanted you.

"And if you were mine, I would carve my name on your belly so everyone would know who you belong to." Oh yes, the knife play.

Jenna wasn't naive or innocent, she knew about fetishes and BDSM practices; and thankfully there was the option of marking your kinks on your own profile when you created your account. The actress spent an embarrassing amount of time researching some of your kinks that were listed on your profile (there was so many things she didn't even knew existed, to be completely honest). And the thought of you doing all of those things with her got her aroused in a matter of seconds.

jenna2709: you could carve your name on my face, for all i care.

jenna2709: i would definitely want people to know that i'm yours.

The rest of the livestream went as usual, you doing all of the things that your subs asked you to, Jenna being awarded as the number 1 tipper for the 5th time in a row, nothing out of the ordinary. You were just about to cum for the second time when Jenna tipped you again with a request.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $2000 with the message: i want you to cum for me, again.

"You know I never decline your requests, baby. But, let's be fair this time around?" You answered, a little bit breathless, masturbating your cock as hard as you could. "I'll give you a private livestream if you show me your face."

Oh, a private livestream?

Jenna had been following your for awhile now ever since her first time watching your stream. She knew that private livestreams weren't something you did. And yet, you were here, offering one for free, just to see Jenna's face in return. It was a really good offer, but Jenna couldn't accept. If you found out who she was, the shooting would be the most awkward work experience for both of them. It would be like, "Hey, (Y/N)? Can you get this camera ready for me? Also, I've already seen your dick and I'm having wet dreams with you fucking me like the slut I am." So, she took one last breath after she decided to stick with her original plan and decline.

jenna2709: it's a deal.

[rosellacwrites]

if you want to call me baby (just go ahead now)

summary: As it turns out, the language of love is — all of them.

pairings: Steven Grant x GN!Reader

rating: general audiences

warnings: weapons grade fluff, established relationship, pet names (so many)

word count: 577

author’s note: Written for the Moon Knight Spring Bingo @moonknight-events — this is entry #4 for “Ritual.” Happy reading! ❤️

dividers by @firefly-graphics

It had started, as do so many things between you, in bed.

“G’night, my dear,” Steven had murmured to you, pulling your back snug against his chest and burrowing his face into your neck, but you’d started to giggle.

“‘My dear?’ What are you, eighty?” you’d laughed.

“What’s wrong with that? You’re very dear to me,” he’d protested.

“And you are to me, too. You know that.” You’d twisted around, craning your neck for a kiss. “It just struck me as funny — you have to admit it has pensioner vibes.”

He’d huffed and kissed you back, and as you’d drifted into sleep you’d heard him say something along the lines of just going to have to find something tomorrow you like better, then.

You’d forgotten about it until the next evening, when he’d dropped a kiss on top of your head on the way to the kitchen and said “Do you want some popcorn, habibi?” When you’d looked up at him quizzically, he was grinning. “‘My love,’” he’d translated. “Arabic. No ‘pensioner vibes’ there, yeah?”

You’d grinned at him and said you supposed not, and the next morning you’d handed him a cup of tea and called him petit chou, and belatedly remembered that he spoke French well enough to know you’d just called him a little cabbage.

And from that point, it was on. You racked your brains for long-forgotten vocabulary words and pored over language dictionaries online, the authorized and unauthorized alike. After that first one, he refused to translate for you anymore: “go on, I want to see if you can find out for yourself,” he’d said. Most of them weren’t so hard, but he’d stumped you with nedjem, which turned out to be Ancient Egyptian (because of course it did) for sweetie.

In revenge, you’d resorted to something he couldn’t possibly spell just from hearing it. “Oh, that’s not playing fair!” he’d protested, and you were weak enough to give him a hint. Knowing where to start, and using his best attempts at phonetic spelling, he got there in the end, all the way to a chuisle mo chroí, Irish for pulse of my heart.

It became your ritual, each new name another star in your shared sky. Persian kharâbetam, I’m ruined for you, taking its place next to Brazilian Portuguese chuchuzinho, little squash, and Ojibwemowin niinimoshenh, sweetheart. You start secretly keeping a list so you don’t repeat yourself, filled with German and Russian and Igbo, liebling, solnyshko, obi’m, but your favorite so far is the Spanish media naranja, because it makes you think of you and Steven curled up together in bed, fitting into each other seamlessly like two halves of the same orange.

Some silly, some sweet, some passionate: you find yourself humbled before the infinite possibilities, marveling at just how many ways there are in the universe to tell someone that you love them.

One evening he comes up behind you while you’re making dinner, and wraps an arm around your waist, kissing you just behind your ear. He whispers your name, and something else, besides.

“Veux-tu m’épouser?”

It doesn’t sound like a pet name, with the soft, nearly tentative way he says it; it sounds like a question. Like an important question — the kind of question you’ll see written in tremulous hope all over his face and cupped gently in his other hand when you turn around to tell him in plain English yes, absolutely, a thousand times yes.

@juneknight @spacecowboyhotch (mod tags)

(pssst today’s my birthday so I wanted to post a little supremely self-indulgent fluff)

Title from here, of course. I’m gonna make y’all listen to my old lady music if it kills me.

[misc-obeyme]

Okay, as requested by @obeymewanderer, here are the dateables turning into cats and needing true love's kiss to turn them back!

I included Luke, but the cure for him is just a counter curse for obvious reasons. I just thought it'd be fun to write about him turning into a cat, too lol.

Anyway, thank you for the request, I'm glad you enjoyed the first part!

dateables turn into cats and need a true love's kiss from GN!MC to change back

Warnings: none!

Diavolo

You don't have to find him. There's a knock on your door and when you open it, you find Barbatos holding an adorable cat with orange-red fur and bright gold eyes. He's got mischief on his face and Barb has fatigue on his. The Young Master cannot stay like this, he has far too much paperwork to do. Your assistance is needed.

Diavolo as a cat is absolutely precious. Wants to sit in your lap all time, constantly purring at you. When he's not cuddling with you, he's getting into things. Climbing under things, climbing over things, just being a general menace. It's not malicious, he's just intensely curious. He's not used to being this small! Despite his tendency to wander off, he always comes back if you or Barbatos call his name. Keep him away from Lucifer's office, please. He's going to get right up on the desk and mess up all the papers. Gets ink on his paws and walks across some important documents.

Together with Barbatos you figure out that he accidentally tripped one of Thirteen's traps that was meant for Solomon. You're actually relieved that it resulted in something so harmless as turning him into a cat. He's a really cute cat, after all. A quick message to Thirteen reveals the cure to the curse.

Take him back to your room, hold him in your arms, and kiss his furry head. He returns to normal still in your arms and he puts his around you before you even realize what's happening. Oh, MC. What a glorious time he had as a cat! But he's eternally grateful that it was your true love's kiss that turned him back to normal. Please kiss him again.

Barbatos

You're headed to the Demon Lord's Castle to have tea with Barbatos, but Little D No 2 greets you at the door instead and he looks worried. You can tell right away that something is wrong, so you follow him to Barbatos's room where you find a black cat with bright green eyes. You are far more amused by this situation than he is, but he's staying calm.

He's a pretty chill cat. He's gonna let you do whatever you like. Pick him up, carry him around, pet him, whatever, as long as you're working quickly to find a way to fix him. Won't let you slack off on that front. If you get even a little bit distracted, he will bat at you with his paws. Only hisses at you if you ignore him. Won't let you take him out of his room, though, so you're going to have to figure out what happened on your own.

It turns out that Little D No 2 is able to fill you in on some of those details. His explanation is questionable at best, but it sounds like it was actually his fault that Barbatos is now a cat. Something to do with some spilled magical potions or something. It's not really enough for you to figure out what you need to do and you're about to resort to well known curse breakers when kitty Barbatos starts licking your hand.

You finally figure out that he's trying to tell you that you should try true love's kiss. He's sitting on his bed and you bend down to pick up one of his paws, kissing the little paw pads which are all pink. He turns back immediately, his hand in yours. He pulls you down into his lap, his own lips by your ear. Without your hard work, he would still be cursed. Let him thank you properly, MC.

Simeon

You show up at Purgatory Hall to find Luke in an absolute panic. He's holding the cutest little brown kitty you've ever seen with the brightest of blue eyes. You're gushing about how cute this cat is - he's so pretty! - while Luke is on the verge of tears. This is not a cat! This is Simeon! Okay, okay, you gotta calm Luke down. Simeon himself seems pretty chill about the whole thing. No doubt he's just amused.

He's incredibly sweet as a cat. A lot of purring, a lot of sitting in laps, a lot of head butting for pets, and a lot of slow blinks. He has one of those cat faces that makes it look like he's always smiling. Likes to rub on people's ankles, which always seems to result in them tripping over him. You're not sure how purposeful this is. Stays by your side most of the time, content to watch you try to figure out how to fix him.

You don't even have to ask what happened because Luke is telling you all about it. It's pretty predictable, Solomon tried to cook something again and Simeon made the mistake of agreeing to try some. He couldn't find a way out of it that time, so this was the result. Solomon himself had left to see if he could find a cure. So Luke was just sitting around at Purgatory Hall, freaking out, until Solomon came back.

Turns out you don't need Solomon to figure this one out. You're a sorcerer, too, and a good one. You examine the food in question and while it's hard to tell what exactly the cure for some of Solomon's food is, you decide on true love's kiss. This is based entirely on your expertise as a sorcerer. Standing in the kitchen, you pick up Simeon and kiss his fuzzy cheek. He turns back into himself, smiles at you, and kisses you back. What a sweet way to be cured. But he's going to need a little more of your time, MC.

Solomon

You show up at Purgatory Hall for your usual magic lesson only to find that your teacher is nowhere to be seen. You look around his room and research area until you find a cat with silvery fur and grey-blue eyes. You can tell just by looking at him that this is Solomon. Not only because of his coloration but the fact that he has the expression of an absolute menace while somehow still being a cat.

You're about to grab him, but he's off, running around the room, climbing on things, just generally experiencing life as a cat. You're sure he already knows what to do to fix himself, so you almost just turn around and leave him. But when you're at the door, he meows plaintively, so you sigh and turn back. He's already trying to do magic in his cat form and failing miserably. You better change him back quickly because who knows what this guy is going to get up to like this.

It doesn't take long for you to see that this was the result of an experiment. All the evidence is laid out on the table - books and various magical implements and a notebook full of Solomon's handwriting. You read through it and find that he has already figured it out. In fact, you're thinking he might have done this on purpose. He knew you were coming, after all. And he knew what the cure was, too.

You're going to need to call him over sternly. He'll come and act all sweet about it, rubbing up against you and purring. You pick him up, put him on the table in front of you, and kiss his nose. He turns back into himself, sitting on the table, legs on either side of you. He laughs. He knew you could do it, MC! He knew you would figure out the cure. You get to decide if you're angry with him for doing this on purpose or not. Either way, you won't be able to stop yourself from kissing him again.

Luke

You're sitting in your class, minding your own business, when something small comes bolting in, followed by a couple of concerned looking demon brothers. The small thing stops at your feet, clinging to them desperately. This is painful because claws. You demand to know what's going on, picking up the shivering fluff ball. It's a little cat with white-blond fur and blue eyes. It's the halo in the eyes that gives it away. This is obviously Luke. It's Beel who tells you what happened - they were working on curses and this one accidentally hit Luke.

He's absolutely freaking out. Now that he's in your arms, he's clinging to your uniform like his life depends on it. He's doing that low mewling growl as he glares at the demon brothers standing nearby. His tail is twitching fast in irritation. If anybody else tries to get close to him, he hisses.

You hold onto him until school is over and then you take him to Purgatory Hall. Once there, you explain to Simeon and Solomon what's going on. Simeon takes Luke into his care, since he's the only one who can do so without getting bitten. You and Solomon then work to find a cure for this predicament.

Solomon finds a spell he can use as a counter-curse and casts it on Luke. He turns back into himself, clearly still extremely stressed. Won't you stay for a little bit, MC? He's had a rough day. Give him a hug and promise to stay by his side for a little while as he recovers from this mortifying ordeal. At least he was turned into a cat and not a chihuahua, right?

masterlist | part 1 with the brothers | Thank you for reading!

[yeoosaangg]

Pacify Her || Kinktober - Day 5

pairing ▸ choi jongho × f!reader

now playing ▸ pacify her - melanie martinez

⤷ ❝someone told me stay away from things that aren't yours, but was he yours if he wanted me so bad?❞

genre ▸ college au, best friends to lovers, smut

warnings ▸ hand kink, degradation, gagging, choking, fingering, rough sex, infidelity

── ⋆ ⋆ ── 𔘓 ── ⋆ ⋆ ──

You walk into the house, feeling the base of the music in your core. It felt stimulating since you pre-gamed with your friends before your arrival.

Yunjin: Somi and I are gonna go dance!

Y/n: I've gotta go find Jongho.

They exchange knowing smirks, heading for the dance floor. You roll your eyes, turning to scan the room.

You maneuver your way around the sweaty bodies of your classmates and finally spot your best friend.

He sits on a couch in the corner, drinking some sort of alcoholic beverage. His friend group sits around, two of them with a girl on their laps.

Yeosang: Hey, look! It's Jongho's girlfriend! Come take a seat.

His what?

Jongho: She's not my girlfriend.

His scowl pierces through the older, who simply shrugs and sits back.

Yeosang: Right. You're dating that one girl in your major. What was her name? Raven? My bad, I forgot. Y/n, come sit on my lap, baby.

Jongho clenches his jaw. He knows what he's doing and he doesn't like it.

Y/n: I'll pass. You're too much of a man whore for me.

Everyone laughs, including Yeosang. He can't argue with your statement because it's true.

You sit next to Jongho, head immediately laying on his lap.

Y/n: What were you guys talking about?

Mingi: The trip to the ski resort coming up. Lots of us think it's gonna be a disaster.

Y/n: Why?

Mingi: Because lots of shit goes down on trips like this. Last time, the admins had to separate a few girls because they were fighting.

Y/n: Damn. For what?

Mingi: They all thought sleeping with the same guy meant they were dating him. Next thing you know, they're fighting to see who's worthy to be his girlfriend.

Yeosang: Not my fault they got attached. I've made it clear plenty of times I was just there for fucking.

Y/n: I'm not surprised you were involved. How'd you get them to back off?

Yeosang: I'm still fucking them.

Of course he is.

Y/n: And on that note, I'm gonna go get a drink.

Jongho: I'll come with. Need more vodka.

You both get up, heading into the kitchen. You start fixing yourself some tequila, watching Jongho pour straight vodka into his cup.

Y/n: Rough night?

He shrugs, gulping down the alcohol.

Jongho: Raven and I got into a fight.

Y/n: For real? What about?

Jongho: It's stupid.

Y/n: It's not if it's bothering you. Come on, you can totally tell me.

Jongho: Not this. I'm still trying to figure out if she was right or just paranoid.

You furrow your eyebrows, but don't push further. If he needs time, you'll give it to him.

Y/n: Alright, then. Cheers to you solving your relationship problems soon.

He chuckles, clinking his red cup with yours.

He can't find it in his heart to tell you that you're the reason he's been arguing with Raven. She accused him of having feelings for you.

The idea was ridiculous at first. You're his best friend, of course you two would be close.

But then he started noticing the way he treats you over anyone else. He drops everything just to help you out. He laughs around you the most, feels happier too.

He was scared of accepting the possibility and chose to escalate their fighting more. Never once did he lay a hand on her, though. He just insults her, calls her insecure and jealous.

But he's starting to realize Raven was right as he looks at you. His heart beats faster, checking you out. The tight black dress fitting you perfectly.

He has the urge to fuck you in it. Right in that very kitchen.

Y/n: Dude!

He snaps out of his daze, looking at you attentively.

Y/n: I asked if you wanted to go somewhere quieter? This fucking music is blasting my eardrums.

Being alone with you in a room sounds like a terrible idea, but the vodka in his system is like a booster shot to his desires.

Jongho: Yeah. It's better than having to yell over the music.

You agree, heading up the stairs of the frat house. You open a familiar room, hoping it's empty. You sigh in relief seeing no one inside.

You plop onto the bed, not noticing your best friend locking the door.

Y/n: I think I shouldn't have pre-gamed. Yunjin made me take four double shots.

Jongho: Bad idea. You sleep with random strangers when the alcohol hits you.

Y/n: But I do end up with a new fuck buddy! Guess we'll find out who's the next victim later. Come lay down, maybe you need some rest.

No, he needs to fuck you.

Just to confirm his theories. Nothing else.

He slips in next to you, staring at the ceiling.

Jongho: Oh, look! They have those glow in the dark stars. I wonder who's room this is.

Y/n: It's Yeonjun's.

Jongho: How do you know?

Y/n: He's the guy I told you about. The fuck buddy that might become more.

Oh.

Jongho: Do you like him?

You stay silent. Yeonjun's nice and all, but he doesn't make you feel alive. The only guy to make you feel like that is unavailable.

Y/n: I think so. He's the only other guy I let into my dorm.

Jongho: There's others?

Y/n: Hell no. Just you and Yeonjun.

He wants to be the only guy allowed in your room.

You look at his hands and widen your eyes.

Y/n: When the fuck did you get a ring?

Jongho: Raven.

Awkward.

You clear your throat, turning on your side to play with the ring in his hand.

Y/n: It suits you. Makes your hands look even more pretty.

Jongho: You think they're pretty?

Fuck, you didn't mean to say that out loud.

Y/n: I didn't say that.

Jongho: It was implied.

Yeah, it was. But he has a girlfriend, you can't let your feelings for him drive you to do stupid things.

Jongho: You're staring at my hands.

Y/n: Hot.

Jongho smirks. He just discovered something new about you.

You've got a hand kink.

Jongho: Open your mouth, baby.

You widen your eyes at the petname. But he looks at you with a fond smile, so you immediately comply.

He shoves his fingers into your mouth, making you sigh in satisfaction. You've wanted this to happen for so long, it feels good to finally get it.

Jongho: Look at you, sucking like a sex-deprived whore.

You moan at his words, moving to sit on his crotch. He chuckles as you start to grind on him.

Jongho: Fucking hell, Y/n.

You start to feel him harden under you. He's fucking huge, it makes your mouth water more.

Jongho: Look at that, you're a drooling mess.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head when he rocks his hips up into you, goaded by the warm pressure that is your pussy.

You whimper, taking his other hand to your throat.

He lightly squeezes, pulling you down. His fingers in your mouth hit the back of your throat. You moan, rutting your hips even faster.

Jongho: Get naked.

You nod while climbing off. A pout forms on your face at no longer having his fingers in your mouth, but get so excited when he starts stripping as well.

Jongho: Lay down.

You do as he says, spreading your legs for him to see all of you.

Jongho: So pretty.

You giggle, opening your mouth in silent invitation.

Jongho: So cute.

He climbs over you, his cock rubbing against your clit. You moan, wanting him inside of you already.

Jongho: So impatient.

His left hand chokes you, his other back inside your mouth. You hum, smiling as his hips rut against you. His cock sliding up and down your folds, getting soaking wet.

Jongho: Wanna see what else my hands can do for you, baby?

You nod, anticipation filling your veins.

He takes his hand out your mouth, reaching down to slip into your warm cunt. You moan at the feeling knowing the music outside the room was drowning you out.

Jongho: Like my hands so much, might as well let them make you cum multiple times, hm? Would you like that?

You nod again. You desperately want him to go faster.

He squeezes your neck a little tighter, curling his fingers at a rapid pace. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, the pressure in your lower stomach intensifying.

Your orgasm hits strong, Jongho not giving you any time to rest. His fingers continue abusing you until you cum again. Your moans rival the loud bass of the music downstairs.

He takes his fingers out and shoves them into your mouth.

Jongho: Suck.

You don't have to be told twice, licking your juices clean. You moan when he shoves his cock into you with no warning.

Your back arches off the bed, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He uses his knees to push your legs up, slamming his hips at an angle that has you screaming even louder than you've been the entire night.

He laughs at your attempt to say something, but his fingers prevented you from doing so.

Jongho: What'd you say, baby? I can't understand you with my fingers in your mouth.

You let out a choked whine, cumming on his cock. He doesn't stop ramming his cock against your walls.

The reality of your actions only hit you now. You're fucking your best friend at a frat party. You remember that he's a taken man, tears building in your eyes.

He takes your tears as a sign that he's making you feel good, fucking you rougher.

Jongho: I love you. Always have.

Your worries go away, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. His girlfriend is nothing but a distraction, much like your handful of fuck buddies.

It's always been Jongho. It'll always be him.

You cum all over his cock again. His thrusts become sloppy, pulling out and spilling all over your stomach. He lays next to you, very out of breath.

Jongho: I love you.

You cuddle into his side, kissing his shoulder.

Y/n: I love you, too.

He kisses your temple, rubbing your back in soothing patterns.

Y/n: Please tell me you're getting rid of Raven.

He laughs, stroking your hair out of your face.

Jongho: Worry about that later. You and I are just getting started.

a/n: the way i can definitely make a part two... oh well! thanks for reading ‹𝟹

You yelp when he rolls you on top of him, aligning you onto his cock.

═══

[bunting27]

drug ✏︎ t. zegras

a/n: i desperately need to work on my smuttier pieces, so here’s this brought to you at 1am by me preparing to start graveyards and needing a distraction. 

summary: jamie’s younger sister comes to live with him as a last resort when their parents decide they’ve given up on making her become him. who knows if trevor made her better or worse

warnings: language, pot (underage smoking but only if you’re from the states), smut!! (18+), p in v sex, intimacy while stoned (just don’t), unprotected sex (also don’t), brother’s teammate, roommate, best friend etc etc trope (again)

wc: 2.9k

✏︎

she had been shoving around piles of dirty clothes, trying to find what she knew was hidden somewhere in the room. she was not snooping, though when trevor had entered his room to see his teammates sister elbows deep in his closet throwing stuff around, that’s the first thing he assumed

“um. y/n/n? i don’t know what you’re trying to find, but unless it’s a game day outfit, you’re probably not gonna find it in there” she jumped where she was sat, slowly but surely turning around to face the boy who’s bedroom she had efficiently turned into a hurricane aftermath.

she didn’t think he’d be back so soon after gamenight, so she thought she had at least twenty minutes to grab what she was looking for and promptly put everything back to where she had carelessly torn it from.

she was wrong, obviously, because he was standing right there and she hadn’t even found it yet.

it being the one thing she had been sent to live with her brother because of, and it being the one thing she couldn’t get off her mind last night when she could smell it from her open window, only to look down and see that it had been coming from trevor.

a joint.

“hey, trev-” she cleared her throat, scurrying to her feet and pursing her lips while keeping intense eye contact with trevor, who hadn’t looked angry or upset with her, just wildly confused.

“it’s not.. what it looks like?” he smiled at her, slowly moving closer and tossing his handful of things onto his bed

“i’m not even sure you convinced yourself with that one, sweetheart” he raised an eyebrow, it being his silent way of asking what the hell she was doing in his room, and she chuckled awkwardly in response.

“last night, before you came back in from your jog, there was this smell-” his smile dropped, he tilted his head, and suddenly he was shutting and locking his door and signaling for her to stop.

“woah, woah, no- you shut- jesus christ. is jamie asking you to do this? i told him i haven’t been smoking, he needs to hop off my di-” she slapped her hand against his mouth, an exasperated look on her face because he had been yelling and jamie had been sleeping in the next room over.

“what is wrong with you? shut up, you’re gonna get us both an overbearing motherly ass lecture, and my ass is gonna end up back in the fucking gta” trevor’s eyes were wide and shocked, his hands up in the air from her sudden movement and harsh tone.

she’d hardly spoken to him at all in her first days here, and now she was pressed up close to him and she was telling him to shut up in his room, in his house. the worst part was that he was absolutely going to listen.

when she finally pulled her hand away from his mouth, he toned it down. 

“then what- oh.” she rolled her eyes at the tone he was using and couldn’t even look him in his stupid, smug face. 

“oh, sweetheart. if you wanted some, you could’ve just come down and asked” that made her look at him, a look of hope spread across her face, under the impression she’d finally get her fix for the first time since she’d come to anaheim.

“so you’ll let me take a couple? fuck, thank you, trev-” her hopeful spew of gratitude was cut short when he shook his head slightly and smirked down at her, and it was replaced with a look of sad confusion. 

“we can share. i’m not letting you wander off in an unfamiliar place with my joints” she tilted her head back and groaned. in all honesty, she was acting like a child, but she did not think trevor would be very fun to deal with high, and she just wanted to go off on her own.

“c’mon, trevor, i’m nineteen, i’m responsible, i’m not gonna do anything stupid” he shook his head, grabbing the baggie he kept tucked under the mattress and pressing his hand to her lower back. 

“yeah? then why can’t you get your own weed?” his tone was condescending and straight up mean, causing her to suck her teeth, grumbling out insults under her breath but letting him guide her to his spot out in their yard nonetheless. 

he took out one of the joints, taking it between his lips and lighting it, but then slid the lighter back into the baggie and tucked it into his pocket. she stared at him, confused, until he took a long drag and then went to hand her the joint.

“you’re joking,” he raised an eyebrow, exhaling and pulling his hand back towards himself

“fine, then” he waited a minute until going to take another drag, but she stopped his wrist, rolling her eyes and going to take it from his hand.

he pulled it back again, looking over at her,

“don’t want you runnin’ off on me, sweetheart” she stared at him for a moment, tongue poking the inside of her cheek as a last ditch attempt not to sucker punch her new roomate.

she told herself she’d rather deal with his antics high, so she should just go with it.

he brought his hand up to her lips, watching with hooded eyelids as she took a drag and savoured it, only exhaling when she needed to. he took his and then gave it another while before letting her take another.

“hale fucking lujah” she exhaled

-

that one night of y/n and trevor sneaking off to smoke turned into every night very quickly. she’d only become comfortable enough to converse with him on the third night, and tonight had marked two weeks of the two of them becoming their own little duo.

“just let me hold it, trevor, oh my god” she was giggling, and he was playing keepaway with the joint he had lit between his fingers. he hadn’t let her take it just yet, still having her smoke from his hand. he was somewhat worried she’d take it and run. at first, it was because if he lost her jamie would’ve killed him, but now he just didn’t want her to leave his side.

“like it when i get to give it to you” she rolled her eyes and parted her lips, signaling that she’d given up on taking it from him and just wanted her next hit. he smiled and lowered his hand, letting her take a drag and then taking one of his own.

“bad enough you make us share one at a time. s’ like we’re making out” his face scrunched and he shook his head, making her laugh again.

“what? you don't wanna kiss me, pretty boy?” he smiled after he exhaled, trying to contain it cause god did he ever want to kiss her, but he liked what they had going, too. if it was that or nothing, he wouldn't ruin it.

she figured he was dodging the comment, so she spoke up again “wanna try something cool?” he furrowed his eyebrows, but nodded, bringing the joint up to her lips for her to take a drag from. 

before she did, though, she nestled herself into his lap and he inhaled sharply, just trying to gauge what the hell was happening and make sure the joint was ready whenever she was.

she took a drag, giving herself a moment and then grabbing trevor’s jaw, swiping her thumb on his lip so he'd open up, and he did. she brought herself so close their noses touched and then exhaled, and he breathed in the smoke, inhaling and eventually letting it blow back out to the side of them. 

it was dead quiet for a few moments after that, and they had just been looking at each other, his hands now comfortably on her thighs and her face in such close proximity to his he could feel her breath fanning his nose.

he took it upon himself to slot his nose next to hers and kiss her, just once. it was gentle and long and sweet, words she had never imagined she’d be able to use to describe trevor. they let the night continue on with her in his lap, facing the other direction, now.

“you’re not like i thought you’d be” he whispered, kissing the top of her head while she exhaled smoke and created rings in the dark

“i’m not jamie?” he thought on it, and she was right. he’d been expecting her to be similar to her brother, especially when she first moved in and wanted nothing to do with him. he’d chalked it up to her being introverted and awkward.

he nodded rather than replying, knowing she’d feel it against her shoulder.

“the reason i’m here is cause they want me to be jamie. my parents, i mean” trevor furrowed his eyebrows, staying silent and opting to just let her continue.

“you think i found weed in the wild one day? i’ve got no fucking friends, any girl my age just wanted to fuck jamie drysdale. he used to smoke too, let me try some one day.” she looked up at him and he placed the joint in front of her lips, understanding. 

“but mom and dad never found out about that. not like they would’ve cared anyways. not much you can do to discipline your child when they’re gonna be able to buy you a new home in the near future” she frowned at herself and then continued, whispering 

“my brother is a professional athlete, in the big leagues, and the only good part of my life right now only happened cause i was trying to poach weed from someone i’d hardly ever spoken to. i understand why they want me to be more like him, but i want to be my own person, you know?” he kissed along her hairline, pressing the joint into the ashtray and tucking it back into the broken panel of the deck.

“i don’t want you to be like jamie,” she ran her hand through his curls, pushing her nose into his jaw and murmuring a small ‘thank you’

she knocked his head to the side with her own, placing another kiss on his lips and smiling into it when he kissed back, his arms now tight around her waist.

he knotted his hand into her hair, pulling her head away from his own, looking into her eyes, red from smoking, and smiled at her. she smiled back, turning the rest of her body to face him and leaning back in

“s’ getting a little cold out, maybe-” he didn’t even need to finish his sentence before she was nodding, moving herself off his lap and towards the patio door with her hand around his wrist, pulling him with her.

they quietly made their way to his room, trying their best not to wake jamie or alert him of the fact that she’d even left the house to begin with.

once they got upstairs and into bed, she nestled herself back onto his lap and kissed him again, basking in the close proximity and the warmth radiating off him. he kept them like that with his hands on her hips, almost feeling like he could wake up at any second and his dream would be cut short.

he gave her a few more haste kisses before pulling away, pressing his forehead to hers but dodging her lips when she tried to connect them again. his hands slid under her shirt, eyes boring into her own while she nodded slowly, lifting her arms but wasting no time in reconnecting their lips once her shirt was off.

“so pretty, all mine” her heart was pounding in her chest at his comment, hands shaky as they messed with the hair at the nape of his neck and then made their way under his shirt, moving it up his stomach and pulling it off when he pulled away from her lips. 

her one hand stayed there, palm resting flat against his lower stomach and the other hand came back up into his hair, their kisses becoming more and more needy as time went on. 

he moved to anchor his fingers into the band of her sweatpants, but she shook her head.

“more kisses. please,” he smiled, kissing her again and revelling in the way she grinned against him and traced along his stomach, happy to just have him like this. 

they kept it to just kisses until y/n could no longer ignore the bulge pressing into the side of her thigh, taking the initiative now to grab his hands from their spot on her waist and hook them into her pants

they worked together to undress one another the rest of the way, her panties being the only thing between the two of them now.

the both of them were antsy and hot from the anticipation, trevor opting to let her decide when she was ready for him. in the meantime, he placed delicate kisses on her neck and collar bone, smoothing his hands along her bare thighs while she basked in the attention

his heart almost skipped a beat when she hovered slightly and calmly took him into her hands, the precum leaking from his tip a blatant tell of how much he wanted her.

they locked eyes while she pulled her panties to the side and slid herself down on him, hiding away in his shoulder once she had come all the way down to mask the whimper that slipped from her lips.

“d’you want me to help, angel?” he whispered, his tone sincere and his hands readying themselves at her hips in case she decided she wanted his guidance.

she settled for a small nod into his neck, choking out a moan when she felt him lift her hips up off him and slowly let her back down, leaving sweet kisses on her shoulder as he did so. his breath hitched when she squeezed him, a tell that she was definitely enjoying his slow pace.

the second time he lifted her, he met her in the middle, still slow but hard and passionate. he looked to the side to see her eyes shut peacefully and her mouth shoved into his shoulder so as to not wake jamie with her noises. 

he continued what he was doing, lifting her up and then pressing his hips up into her as he gently guided her back down, eventually opting to lift her less and use his own hips more, something that opened up a chance for his other hand to drop from her hips and move to trace circles on her clit.

as soon as she felt the contact, she whimpered into his shoulder, opening her eyes and tilting his head to the side so he could kiss her again.

the more they went on, the more she was convinced she’d never be tired of feeling him close to her like this, the more she was worried what jamie would think, if he’d even let her stay in his home any longer if he found out.

his kisses were like a new drug to her, one so new she couldn’t guess what her parents or brother would think. if they’d tell her she was addicted and she needed to quit, or if they’d welcome it - see how her mood changed with him around and not see the list of potential cons.

her lungs would be safe, her heart not so much.

but all of those thoughts were wiped from her brain, anyways, when one of his thrusts had him nudging the perfect spot inside of her, and suddenly she was seeing stars and gushing around him. 

the flutter of her core around him and the muffled cry into his shoulder had trevor coming, too, sliding her off him and keeping up his patterns on her clit while his cum landed on her stomach and his breath got caught in his throat.

he hugged her close to him for a few moments as she came down from her high, eventually lifting her off his lap and making his way over to his ensuite.

he came back with a pile of clothes, a clean stomach and a warm rag to clean her up, her eyes following him with a look of uncertainty as he did so and got her into a pair of his boxers, panties now discarded, and one of his tshirts.

that look faded as he got into bed with her, laying down and gently pulling her so she was cuddled close to his side with her head tucked into his chest.

“what if jamie is up before us?” she whispered, still slightly overwhelmed and very tired.

“what if he already told me i could have you?” she furrowed her eyebrows, looking up at him with a look of confusion.

“don’t worry, he just thinks i've got a crush. doesn’t know you come on my jogs with me” she giggled, shoving her hands in his hair and leaning in to his kiss on her temple.

“he wants you to be happy, y/n/n. he thinks i’d be good for you. i don’t really know why. but he trusts me” she smiled to herself, knowing jamie wasn’t that overbearing and motherly when it came to guys, only things he’s fucked up on before and he didn’t want her to have to experience.

“i trust you, too, trev. to make me happy”

[highonmarvel]

Hello! It's not 2024 yet,but it will be in one more day so Happy New Year in Advance! May I please request a dark!reader with a soft!dark Bucky? Not a dark or fully dark Bucky but soft dark one like the Bucky you wrote in your recent story called 'Himalayan Salt'. Your dark Bucky really scares me as they are truly dark and cruel,and stay true to the dark fics genre. But for this request,may I request that he won't do any hitting or physical abuse towards the reader? Because I find that I really liked your 'Himalayan Salt' soft!dark!Bucky.

My request is dark!reader is obsessed with Bucky and stalks him,snaps his pictures to keep to herself,steal his stuffs to keep as souveniers,basically everything a yandere would do. But she has no clue that Bucky is also obsessed with her,probably more than she is of him and that he knows everything that she's doing to him when she thought he wasn't looking or didn't notice. He even finds it amusing and think of her as an adorable amateur stalker. She doesn't talk to him and never introduces herself to him (which Bucky wishes she would do) because she thinks someone as handsome as Bucky wouldn't even spare someone like her a glance so she resorts to watching him and fantasizing about him from afar.

Reader got herself in his apartment (that he didn't have proper security or proper locks for on purpose so she can enter easily and his apartment,not hers,because she wouldn't be able to get him back to her place as easily) to hide and wait until he gets back. He has tiny cameras in his apartment that connects to his phone that let him know that Reader is in his apartment and is about to kidnap him. He get home ASAP,acts normal and unaware and purposely stands near to a spot that he knows reader is hiding at and turns his back to her to let her knock him out. She knocked him out and tied him up/restraints him on his bed. He woke up some time later to reader explaining her plan to keep him and reader forces herself on him. Which he pretends not to like at first so he can let her have her moment and let her think she has the upper hand here. But then he started laughing and giggling which confuses and creeps reader out before he broke out of his restraints easily and flipped her over,pinning her on his bed and revealing that he's knew all along and he's far more obsessed with her as he thinks about her everyday,enjoying the little game they play that's she's unaware of and have his way with her in the end. His turn.

I know you said to expect physical abuse or hitting in your fics as they are dark fics but I want to request that Bucky doesn't hit or physically abuse reader in any way in this one,if I can. And vice versa with reader never hitting or physically abuse Bucky except to knock him out as I find her chloroforming an enchanced super soldier unrealistic. Just the non con or dub con committed towards Reader by Bucky in the end. So I guess it's a soft!dark!reader x soft!dark!Bucky request.

Sorry for this long & shitty request and sorry if this isn't really in your lane. I just needed to get this off my chest before I forgot about the idea completely. And I just wanted to try my luck. It's also okay if you don't want to do it,I understand ❤ I'll be treating myself to your other works and upcoming stories in the future. Take care of yourself,hope you're doing well,stay safe and have a blessed New Year ❤❤❤ Thank you for just reading through my terrible request alone and sorry to put you through this lol. Thanks again ❤ Much love! 💞

i’m gonna be honest with you, i wasn’t really into this. the idea sounds cool but i’m not really into dark!reader, though i see where you’re coming from, and i get that my fics are really fucking dark, but someone has to do it. but this was so well thought out and you were so kind at the end i had to do it for ya. and i had fun! it was outside my comfort zone, that’s why it took so long (among other things.) you had a lot here so i apologise if it doesn’t come out as you wanted, but i tried my best, and i did change it just a little bit. here it is:

Amateur Hour

Bucky Barnes: A glimpse generates an obsession, though maybe it’s not as one-sided as you think.

content warnings here!

Sort of subdued all your life, you’ve never had the courage to come right out and say you liked someone, and that led you to observation more than conversation, watching people you admire closely, but nothing more, until you see him.

It’s a fairly overcast day, the sun just peaking out enough so as to not make the air cold. You sit peacefully on a park bench, reading a novel without the threat of rain tempting fear of getting your book wet. You hear someone coming down the path, obviously, because this is a public park, and you don’t know why you look up, but you do, and the wind is knocked right out of your chest.

You’ve never seen a man as beautiful as him, brown hair and mysterious steel blue eyes with a perfectly sculpted jawline and just enough stubble so as to make your heart rate pick up. You don’t realise you’re staring after him until he turns and gives you a quick friendly smile, pink lips upturning for a moment before he continues, but enough to make you develop an obsession of sorts.

You’re used to watching people you admire, and that’s as far as it goes, but this… this is different. He has to have been sculpted by God Himself, strong arms and broad shoulders you all but want to be wrapped in. You could never speak to a man like that, but you could never let him escape in the streets and never see him again, you’re already haunted by the image of him having only briefly met his eyes, you know you’ll go insane if you don’t know him, and so a less insane option is to… watch.

Very casually, you shut your book and stand, stretching before strolling in his direction, keeping your footsteps small enough so that you can follow without him getting suspicious as to why you don’t overtake him. You take in the tress around you, nature you usually appreciate, but you can’t really observe any beauty anymore without knowing they will never compare to the man in front of you. It’ll never be enough now.

And you don’t know it, but Bucky smirks to himself as he hears your gentle footsteps behind him.

You turn out as he does, and usually you would be more vigilant to pickpockets and busy people speed walking on the pavements of New York, but there’s nothing in the world that can take your focus off of the back of his head. You’re sure you must have bumped into a few people, but you can’t recall it, mumbling an apology every once in a while until you stop them completely, trying to keep as silent as possible. You follow him for a bit, though you’re not sure how long; every concept you’ve ever known—time and space—are nothing compared to him. You’re desperate for him to look at you again, you almost want to out yourself right then and there and force his lips onto yours, but you know that’s dumb, yet still it takes you a lot more self control that you ever thought you needed to keep your cool.

You reach a block of apartment buildings and slow down slightly—with less people around, you don’t want to look suspicious. When he turns to one, you turn to the one across the street, watching in the reflection of the glass door entrance as he lets himself into a building. So that’s where he lives. You jot down the address in your notes app and take a picture of the place, just in case, ducking behind a car to see if one of the windows will open revealing him. You frown when after a few minutes, there’s no movement, and so you head around the back, where the flat is facing an empty lot rather than a long road. And you see him, standing by his window, the breeze perfectly combing through his hair.

So you’re the quiet type, you note, seeing as he’d rather his place face no one than everyone. You can’t help yourself from taking another picture, and just before he disappears from your sight. Once he’s gone, you press your back against the wall and grip your phone with both hands to take in that beautiful sight forever. You can’t fight it anymore, you have to know him.

***

Bucky chuckles to himself as he steps back. He knew you were in the park, he came specifically for a walk to see you, but he wasn’t really expecting you to have such an immediate and visceral reaction to the sight of him. Bucky’s no stranger to flirty glances, but he saw that glint in your eyes, and he knows it; it’s the same one he had when he saw you. When he heard you get up behind him, he hoped it was because you were going to introduce yourself (not that he needed your name, but that seemed like an easier way to go about it) but when the sound of your footsteps didn’t speed up or die down, he knew you were following him. Bucky’s obsession with your started when you’d sweetly bought a cake in a cute bakery, and you just screamed innocence to him right off the bat. Now, well, maybe you’re not so innocent in your own eyes, but, if anything, you’re a little naïve to him, and he finds it adorable.

***

The next day you head back over and sit in your car for a little bit, waiting for him to come out, but you get an opportunity just as good. The mailman comes around with probably some junk mail, and you hop out your car, pretending you were entering your own building. When he opens the door, you stop him.

“I’m just going in, don’t worry, I can take it from you,” you say with a friendly smiles. He thanks you for helping him on his long route as he hands you a few letters and magazines: junk. You wave him goodbye as you step in and the door falls shut behind you.

“Do you live here?” a voice asks, and you startle as you turn to security seated behind a desk.

“No! I’m just volunteering a little on the mail route,” you smile at him, innocently, and raising the pitch of your voice to appear sweeter, “And I’m sorry, I just need a little help getting it into the right boxes.

“Well, I can do it for you,” he offers, but you shake your head.

To avoid suspicion you offer, “Well, there’s five floors, you can do floors one and two and I’ll do three and up.” You counted that the man you’re obsessed with lives on the fourth floor.

He agrees and you get to work putting mail where he tells you each person and their door number.

*

“James B Barnes?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. You had done a few on his floor and asked a little about each, but most of them were either women or people living together, and you knew he had to live alone, he seems really reserved and to himself, likes the quiet.

“James? I don’t know a James…” you frown as he furrows his brows in thought, but suddenly he snaps his fingers and smiles, “Ah, Barnes! That’s Bucky, 4D, really keeps to himself.”

Bucky. But you have to make sure it’s the right person.

“I see,” you say as you gently place letters in a box on the fourth row marked with the letter D, “You don’t know much about him?”

“Nah, only that he’s really into gloves, never see him without ‘em, even in scorching hot weather.”

The man you saw yesterday was wearing gloves, even though it wasn’t really cold. That has to be him.

It takes a while to fill up the rest as you try to keep friendly conversation going to not appear suspicious. When you’re finally done, he goes back to scribble something down on a piece of paper.

“You know, he says as he finishes it off, “If you’re going to be coming down this way for a while, you should have the building code, make it easier for you,” he hands you the piece of paper with a smile.

“Thank you!” you say, a little too eagerly as you read the code: 8496, “I’m often busy with work so I’m not sure how many days I can be here,” you sulk, “But I’ll try come in every once in a while, count on it.”

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, apartment 4D, you’re getting somewhere.

You’ve started to notice that you’ve been so distracted lately you’ve been misplacing items; a t-shirt you thought was in your cupboard would end up on the floor, a few of your bras seem to have disappeared, and you can’t find random notes you’ve written and placed throughout the house. But it’s fine, once you have him you can deal with all that: none of that is as important as Bucky.

*

You’ve always been a bit of a loner, but the next two weeks you spend talking to no one, not even responding to work emails as you stalk Bucky. You’ve managed to sneak in a few times (he doesn’t lock his door) and grab some of his stuff—you even wear his t-shirts sometimes, absolutely intoxicated by his scent—snap a few pictures for memories. Following him around, you find that you were right: he is more of a loner; he hardly talks to anyone, he’s got two friends, Sam and Steve, who he sees maybe once a week for drinks, but that’s it.

On a Friday night, you snap: you have to have him.

***

Bucky is in the middle of taking a sip of beer, watching Sam and Steve laugh at his deadpan joke, when he gets a notification on his phone. It’s a specific sound he has just for the cameras in his house, tells the guys it’s security, and they get it, they think Bucky is a little paranoid from his past, but if anything, his past makes him more comfortable to being exposed to attack, he knows he can take them, and no one with half a brain cell would try a serious-looking well-built man.

He manages to excuse himself for the night, but not without a little protest from Steve and Sam. To get out of explaining himself, he places money on the table for the men to get another round on him, and they cheer as he exits the bar.

Outside in the dark, he opens the app and turns his phone landscape to swipe through the multiple cameras set up in his house to get to the one where you are. Of course you’re in his bedroom; he’s noticed you’ve been stealing some of his clothes, once even a pair of his boxers, and so he moved your stuff to a better hiding spot. From watching you, it didn’t even seem like you noticed your things going missing, that or you didn’t care, but he knew you weren’t as attentive as you thought. Once he literally followed you in his car just to see how far he could go and you didn’t pay it any mind, walking through your neighbourhood as normal—though, granted, you did have your earphones in.

Excitement ripples down Bucky’s spine and he can’t help but smile at the screen as he notices you ducking behind his bed. Really? Behind his bed? Not even in the closet? He bites his lip to prevent himself from laughing, but not in a malicious way, in an adoring way, that you really are committed to this, but not as committed as he is. He’s seen the chloroform, baseball bat and ropes you bought, you’ve been planning it for a little, but nothing could prepare you for him.

He has to stop himself from full on sprinting down the road to get back home. He does to want to show up sweaty and panting, so he tries with all his might to make it casual stroll. He makes sure to slam the front door behind him so you know he’s here, and he sighs loudly as he shrugs off his jacket before tossing it onto the couch. Maybe it’ll spook you too much if he went straight to his bedroom, so he goes to the bathroom first to freshen up a bit, give you time to really think this through, maybe you’ll change your mind. Not that he’ll change his.

His bedroom door is closed, which he finds a little cute because he knows he left it slightly ajar, but you didn’t really take that into consideration. When he enters, he turns to close the door behind him, giving you time to sneak up and hit him over the head with a bat.

He falls, pretends he’s been knocked out, as if a bat could take him out; he’s been punched through walls and barely flinched before getting back up to fight. It takes a lot in him to stop himself from smiling as he feels you lift him from under his armpits and drag him onto the bed. It takes a bit, but once he’s lying down, you puff out a breath and wipe your brows; that was a bit of a workout for you, but for him… how easy it would be to manhandle you.

He hears you shuffling and feels harsh rope chafe against his skin as you wrap a piece around his ankle, not nearly tight enough, and he thinks it’s because you don’t want to hurt him, which is sweet. You’re just so sweet.

Once you’ve ‘secured’ his ankles and wrists, he waits a few moments before he pretends to stir, coming to consciousness. He puts on a confused and scared look as he notices you at the edge of the bed, as if he hasn’t been dreaming about this for the longest time. As soon as your eyes meet his, he can hear the near whisper, swoon-like sigh you give. Bucky has never considered himself too attractive, doesn’t pay much mind when someone is attracted to him, neither gives him an ego boost or knocks him down a notch, but you, the way you’re so affected by his presence has his heart rate picking up.

“You’re just so beautiful,” you breathe, “Bucky.”

Bucky tightens his fists to prevent himself groaning at the sound of his name falling from your lips, and he’s struggling even more now to restrain himself, wanting to fuck you so hard that’s all you can say, just broken sobs of his name as you come over and over, legs trembling around his waist…

“I’m sorry,” you apologise as you stand.

The corner of his lip twitches, and he can tell you’ve noticed, but that scared face he’s putting on for your benefit quickly takes over his expression as you climb over him. He wants to beg you to stop, maybe give you a little more time to feel in control, but it’s been a while now, and he can’t help the chuckle that slips past his smiling lips.

You look up from his crotch to see him full-on laughing now, not necessarily deranged, but laughing like you’ve told him a genuinely funny joke. You sit back on him carefully as you watch this odd behaviour, that really unsettles you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologies, still with a smile on his face as he shakes his head, “It’s just… come on, now. You’re adorable, but what is this, amateur hour?”

You don’t really have time to take in his giggly response to being ostensibly held captive before he easily pulls himself free of the restraints. You gasp and grab hold of his waist as he grabs hold of your hips, easily pinning you underneath him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Trying to contain his amusement, he drops his head to hide his smile, but can’t hide it away again when he looks back down at you.

“Two weeks?” he breaths over you, his tone not mocking, but near incredulous, “Try two months, sweetheart. I’ve seen your internal conflict, knowing what you were doing is wrong but not being able to stop, huh?”

He raises an eyebrow with his question and you gulp and look down from his eyes to through his legs.

“Where do you think all your shit’s being going? Things don’t just disappear, touches aren’t always just dreams. And listen,” he brings a hand up from your waist to gently tap your cheek, signalling for you to look back at him, and you do, “I’ve enjoyed playing this little game with you, but I’ve been waiting too long for this now to let you have all the fun.”

You gasp as he ducks his head to press a gentle yet possessing kiss to your neck, grasping onto his hair to keep his mouth against your pulse. He smiles against you, and you take a deep breath in as you turn your head to allow him more space, gently tugging him downwards as you listen to his soft kisses and feel the loving stroke of his fingers on your inner thigh. His gentleness soon turns a little more rushed, like he’s desperate; he lets out a choked groan as he grinds his tightening jeans against your thigh, which you return with a moan of your own, pulling his head from your neck which he at first tries to fight, so lost in the taste of your skin, the quickening rise and fall of your chest against his, your sighs of his name, but he reluctantly pulls away, only to be immediately pulled down to your face as you crash your lips against his. He can tell you’re eager by the way you shift your thighs every once in a while, but he knows there’s fear in the trembling fingers that hold him against you.

Once his tongue slides into your mouth, you know it’s over, unable to stop yourself from draping your arm over his neck so he’s as close to you as possible.

“Bucky…” you moan against his mouth, rolling your hips against him.

“Fuck,” he rasps.

You desperately claw at the waistband of his jeans, and he smiles as he pulls away and sits up to take in your flushed cheeks; he’s hardly touched you and you’re already pleading, “Please, please, please.” He’s sure by now the only words you can get out are ‘fuck,’ ‘please,’ or ‘Bucky,’ and he can’t quite decide which is his favourite one… Definitely his name.

“It’s coming, sweetheart,” he says as he undoes his belt, “Hold on.”

It’s no task for him to pull off your pants as you arch your hips, and he really can’t help but smirk to himself as he notices the dark patch on your underwear when he slides it off next.

He props himself up as he slowly pushes into you, grunting at how good you feel. You moan and Bucky rewards the sweet sound by hiking up your thigh to hit you deeper. You cry out as he bottoms inside you, digging your nails into his back and squeezing your eyes shut, cunt tightening around him, too.

“Oh, fuck,” he whines as he pulls back and pushes into you again. Your hands move to grasp onto his shoulders, and if you’re pushing him off, he doesn’t notice it, letting out a whimper when he hits your spot again, your fingers grasping onto him for dear life.

He tried to keep slow, but he hurries a little, fucking addicted to feeling you, so lost he’s letting pathetic noises fall from his lips as he pushes into you each time, making sure to give praises of, “Fuck, that’s good, you’re so good, fuck,” between harsh breaths, and you can reply with nothing but whines and moans under him.

When he feels your legs begin to tremble, he pulls the one over his waist further back, hitting you even deeper, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head, and this time he feels your nails break into his skin.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” is all you can get out as he hovers over you.

“You gonna come, sweetheart? You can do that, fuck, please, please come for me.”

If the feeling of his cock wasn’t enough to drive you over the edge, his pleads and whines do it; you let out a broken sob of his name as you clench down on him, orgasm ripping through you better than in all your fantasies.

“Fuck, yeah, yeah, that’s good, ‘m gonna come in you now, okay?”

And it doesn’t take long, a few more thrusts and he releases himself inside of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out a long groan of your name. When his breathing has slowed slightly, he raises himself to look down at you, and he doesn’t think he could deny himself another round, whether you want it or not.

✪

[taglist; @cjand10, @pr30087, fill out this form if you’d like to be added!]

[sashimiyas]

Onions aren’t the only reason why we cry

Summary: Osamu has some important news to share with his friends and it results in group tears and a group hug

Word count: 1.3k

Genre: fluff; reader is referred to as she/her; Inarizaki things

There’s a rare delicateness in the air after you’ve closed the door. Osamu’s friends had picked up on his apprehension, waiting with bated breath when he whispered ‘I have something to tell ya guys’ the first time you disappeared from the kitchen to grab your bag and now that you’ve closed the door and officially left the apartment, everyone waits impatiently.

Atsumu taps his feet, antsy, and Suna cannot help but close and reopen apps aimlessly on his phone. Kita, whose idle hands are usually disciplined, rip napkins to even pieces and Aran has resorted to pacing the living room.

Osamu steps out of his slippers and slides down the wooden flooring with socked feet and stealth. He places a careful hand to the doorframe to stabilize himself and tilts to the side. One index finger pulls a singular blind down that has Atsumu counting seconds. It’s not until he gets to eight does Osamu turn around with a breath of relief.

“Alright,” he heaves, and just that breath balances the heavy pressure in the air, “she’s gone.”

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Atsumu starts muttering under his breath. He begins pacing with Aran, hands on his hips and eyes downward. Osamu wants to tell him to calm down but even he can’t steady the beating in his heart.

“I can’t take this!” Aran’s the first to break, lashing out. “Come on now. Out with what ya got to say.”

Kita takes a calm hand and grabs his old friend’s wrist. The simple touch calms Aran down, but with the words out in the air, Osamu’s garnered everyone’s rapt attention.

“Spill when ya ready,” Kita offers, “but just know ya driving us crazy.” Then he nudges Suna with his foot, “Keep 119 ready. I feel like Tsumu’s seconds away from passing out.”

Suna grunts in accord, nimble fingers tapping the screen while eyes follow Atsumu who is no longer contained in the living room, venturing the whole perimeter of Osamu’s apartment, mutterings trailing behind him.

Osamu walks back to the kitchen, bracing his hands on the edge of the island before bending his elbows and leaning down on it. The cold stone is hard against his belly and so he stands, crossing his arms across his chest. Nothing feels comfortable.

“You’re making me anxious,” Suna shifts in his seat.

“Fuck, sorry, shit,” Osamu says, using his foot to slide his joggers down. “I’m nervous because fuck, when I say it, it’s gonna be real.”

Atsumu’s done a full round and he’s back in the kitchen. Osamu takes one final breath and he glances at the friends that have gathered at his table, the ones he knows he wants by his side now and forever.

Suna still has his phone in his hands, obviously peeved even if he’s doing his best to remain expressionless. Kita is seated next to him and he’s taken to tracing the condensation on his glass. Aran is statuesque beside them, standing with his arms crossed, head down, and eyes closed. His jaw flexes at every breath and he sincerely looks like he might explode from anticipation. Lastly, he meets his brother’s eyes. They’re expectant and Osamu can assume he already knows what he’s going to say, gaze glassy and ready. Before Atsumu can escape to pacing again, he pulls his brother to his side, an arm around his shoulder, strength renewed at Atsumu’s touch.

When the bones of their hips bump, Atsumu immediately stiffens at the feel of it. He looks at his brother, wide, golden eyes full of hope. They speak paragraphs in a single second glance, and with a nod, he fills the rest of his friends in.

Osamu reaches into his pocket and pulls out a velvet box. The pull is magnetic as he and all his friends lean over the table to gather a closer glimpse.

“I’m going to propose. She’s the love of my life and I can’t imagine a life without her,” Osamu murmurs. When he looks up, he finds out that diamonds aren’t the only things that glitter. Tears gather in his friend’s gazes. They build in his too. Love comes in various ways, he realizes, and he’s very lucky to experience it in all aspects of his life.

“Fuck, I knew it! I knew it!” Atsumu wails, clinging both arms around his brother’s neck and sobbing into his shoulder, “I just knew ya was gonna say something like this but dammit, I didn’t expect ya to have the ring already.”

Aran’s beside them, lips in a trembling line, doing his best to withhold his outburst and be the rock he’s always been all their lives. He rubs a hand up and down Atsumu’s back. “Calm yaself. This is ya brother’s moment. It ain’t yours.”

Atsumu turns to cry into their childhood friend’s chest, “I’m just so happy. They’re perfect for each other.”

“I know,” Aran agrees. Osamu meets his gaze, “we knew the moment ya two met. Ya two are good for each other.”

“Stop, ya guys are making me emotional.” Osamu catches a tear with his index finger, but breaks when Aran’s finally slips past his lash line.

“Damn it” Aran warbles, “thought I could hold it in.”

“Keep going,” Suna stands so he has a better view, veering his camera over the fruit bowl in the middle of the table and zooming in on Atsumu’s pink face, “this is perfect content right here.”

“Turn that camera around!” Atsumu berates though it’s muffled by Aran’s chest, “I know ya crying over there, too!”

“We all are. Ain’t no reason to be ashamed,” Kita says calmly. He moves to Osamu’s side and grips his shoulder. Maybe it’s the recognition from his captain that has another fat tear running down Osamu’s cheek. He looks down at the box in the restauranteur’s hand, “ya made a good choice. Rock and partner.”

“Yeah?” Osamu asks.

Kita chuckles quietly, “ya second guessing now?”

“Not even,” Osamu shakes his head, “I’ve never been more sure in my life.”

“Good.”

They’re too caught up in the moment that they register you opening the door way too late. Five pairs of teary eyes look at you, growing wide with what you assume is embarrassment.

“I forgot my wallet. Am I–” the incredulity of the situation interrupts you. Atsumu’s a mess and Osamu’s shuffling in his spot, ducking his head down as Kita stands in front of him. “–am I interrupting something?”

“No, not at all,” Kita says.

“Are you sure? You guys are crying.”

“Osamu was cutting onions,” Suna answers coolly, dropping his phone back into his jacket pocket.

You give him a perplexed expression and take tentative steps into the kitchen. Osamu pops back up with eyes rimmed with red.

“Where are the onions?” you direct the question to your boyfriend. With how weird all his friends are acting, his answer is the only one you trust.

“Threw them away,” Suna replies quickly.

“What?” you glance around now but it seems none of the boys can meet your eyes. “Why would you do that?”

You reach for Osamu’s face. His hand meets you halfway, placing it on his chest, “was making us cry too much.”

“In this economy?”

“In this economy?” Atsumu repeats, your words prompting more tears to fall. He latches onto you, your shoulder quickly going damp from his hot breath, “God, ya so stupid. I love ya.” 

“What the–?”

You can’t even finish your sentence when Aran pulls all three of you in. Kita joins and now you’re flush against Osamu’s chest. It’s muggy and none of them can stop sniffling. Suna finally completes the group hug and the group of you simply stand there in the kitchen.

You look up at Osamu, helpless and in need of answers. He simply replies with a quiet, lovesick smile. You notice then, that even he, the experienced chef he is, the one that brags about how he’s immune to the power of onions, has tears pooling in his eyes.

“Let ‘em be,” he places a tender kiss to your temple, “just wanna show ya that we love ya.”

[tartrazeen]

I feel like some folks don't understand what'll happen if Tumblr runs out of money.

I think that's why so many are doing the whole "we have to donate right now or else they can't make the changes we've been asking for" thing.

As a business major...

... allow me to enlighten you on exactly what'll happen if Tumblr fails to generate "enough" revenue.

Here it is!

They sell the site.

That's it.

You may remember this as being "the thing that happened the last time." Which last time, since there have been many? Exactly. Pick any of those blips in the rear-view mirror.

The site doesn't disappear or get deleted. Per capitalism, it fundamentally can't be. Automatic put money into this site, and they will not be leaving without getting money out of it one way or another: by monetizing us through Tumblr Live and tracking and no icons and letting terfs and racists roam free, or by trying to recover their loss if that never works at a turning a profit and they give up 'cause we're too high-maintenance.

This is normal Business. We're fine. Staff is pushing this so hard because they aren't fine, but if they go (i.e. "run out of money"), we get a new stepdaddy.

⁽⁠⁽⁠◝⁠(⁠ ⁠•⁠௰⁠•⁠ ⁠)⁠◜⁠⁾⁠⁾

And they will sell us long before we ever get to a 'boo-hoo delete the site' point because we live in a society under capitalism. You don't delete money. You sell it off to the next greedy corp. as a last resort so you get anything back on your failed investment.

Here - have some more details about that if you want:

Along with selling the site, someone else buys the site. This is the more important and yet even funnier/easier/more empowering-to-users half of the equation.

When someone sells something, it's to recoup a loss or realize a gain on their side - but either way, it's because there's something that's still valuable within the asset. Part of the sales pitch to new buyers is to therefore say, "Hey, look how profitable this website could be if you were able to tap into it the right way! Uh, why couldn't we do that? Uhhhhhhhhhhh."

The answer to that question relies heavily on why the site's being sold. If it's - as it's currently heading - along the lines of "Users are so delighted to give us money that they'll basically buy whatever you throw at them, but we're not in the business of doing infinite growth, so we're selling this to someone else who can manage that part and we'll start again with a different website." That's the best-case scenario for sellers and buyers. It's their win/win. It's them saying "I would keep making money but I don't have the infrastructure to get it all, so we're selling it to someone who can."

The answer that Yahoo got when they first bought it was some hilarious bullshit like, "Oh, uh, yeah, they're gonna be the .pdf of the future. Don't wanna miss that." Which is hilarious because it was more or less tricking Yahoo into buying a bucket of goblins. That was a win/lose on Yahoo's side, 'cause they fell for it and the old sellers got to escape with their losses cut and some money in their pocket. Same for when Verizon got it, although Yahoo was probably more honest in saying, "We didn't know this site had bees in it." Enough of a win for Yahoo to sell it, a lose on Verizon's side because they didn't know wtf to do with those bees either.

Automatic came in like, "Omg. Bees in a website. With money. We can monetize this. We can get rid of the bees. We'll take that off your hands for you, Verizon!"

And Verizon was like, "oh thank god, give us any cash you can spare"

And Automatic paid that assuming they would figure out how to finally crack through Tumblr's lack of profitability to get our sweet sweet money honey. They're forcing through Tumblr Live, for example, because if it works, they'll eventually find the optimal equation between "lose the unprofitable users" and "make maximum money." It's the same reason EA is in the business of microtransactions and doesn't give a damn about people complain until enough people reject it to actually hurt their bottom line.

If Automatic fails to do that?

They're just another Yahoo and Verizon. They sell it to the next sucker they can trick into thinking the site's a money-maker "in the right hands lmaooooo". They give up, essentially, but there's more money to be had in passing it on while the site still actively has users than it is to destroy the site entirely - because then you can't sell it for as much.

So feel free to dig in your heels and resist every single change! Send all your feedback! One-star the app! Delight in staff saying, "You're just making it harder for us!"

Yeah, good! Making staff's life harder is actually the goal. The harder we are to monetize in XYZ way, the more they have to decide if it's worth a new approach or cutting their losses. The less money they get, the more they have to either revert back to less profitable but tolerated options, or the closer they get to selling the site that's been publicly documented to hate XYZ tactics.

The worse reception these changes get, the closer the users get to an outright revolt, the more other companies go, "Eeee. You can't trick us into thinking they can be monetized." And that pushes Automatic towards one of two options:

Unload their "bad asset" onto someone else ASAP, with as positive of a spin on Tumblr's profitability as they can create

Keep the asset but accept that XYZ feature or tactic isn't getting them the cash they want, so try something else.

It's that simple. They're difficult for users to corner Automatic, of course, because Automatic bought this site with "The users are gonna try to boycott lol" rainy day funds and a lot of optimism that they could 'break' the userbase. But that's a corporate spirit that erodes once they really aren't making the money they thought they would.

Who knows? With enough documented resistance, the next owners might go in ready to embrace the existing Tumblr culture, especially if they can be convinced of how unique it is. You have nothing to lose with Automatic because they aren't interested in that. Quit panicking, this is all normal, and it's quite literally just a waiting game.

Continue to panic publicly, though! That does help. :) No - seriously, that affects Tumblr's external marketability and monetization potential, which further pushes Automatic into one of those two "sell or submit" options lmaoooo

[hayleythesugarbowl]

HEYYYYY it’s been awhile since I’ve asked for something and I thought today I would like to have some more Angela stuff I’m not gonna be picky about it just give me something to feed on and I’ll be happy I was hoping a nice long story that’s all I got for you you can write on it when you feel like it or have the time thanks :))) hope your doing well and have a nice rest of the week ;)

Second Chances || Angela Giarratana x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when the smosh cast goes on a company retreat and you and angela are forced to share a hotel room you have the opportunity to rekindle an old romance

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none

a/n: hey!! hope this is what you wanted, i just kinda had this idea and ran with it and i had to include the one bed trope because c’mon. also fem!reader like all of my other angela fics. anyways enjoy!! 💌💋

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Everyone say vacation!” 

     Courtney smiled as they took a group photo of you and everyone else at Smosh. You grinned, looking forward to the time  away from work and daily life. 

     You and the rest of the cast had all flown to a sunny beach town for a week-long company retreat and you now stood in front of a large, bustling resort taking in the warm air, the pinkish glow of the now-setting sun, and sounds of laughter and shouting.

     “Alright everyone, we’re going to have to share rooms because apparently this place is busy this time of year and someone forgot to check availability,” Ian announced, turning to his best friend. 

     “Why are you looking at me?” Anthony said.

     Everyone began discussing who they wanted to bunk with—Shayne moving to stand closer to Damien, Courtney and Olivia linking hands, and Anthony and Ian were already discussing who would sleep in the bed closest to the window—and you watched as everyone paired off. You turned to find Angela next to you.

     “So, everyone’s paired up…what do you say? Roomies?” She asked.

     “Roomies,” you answered, trying to smile. Of course, just your luck. You were glad, in a way—you didn’t want to start your vacation off not finding someone to share with and be stuck feeling like this was middle school all over again—but you couldn’t decide which was worse, that or having to share a room with your ex for the whole week. You figured Angela would have felt the same way. 

     You were over Angela. You thought. You two had dated for the better part of 6 months but you had ultimately decided your relationship was better off as strictly coworkers a couple of months ago. You had both had your part in the relationship failing and you recognized that things were better off this way. But you couldn’t keep away the nagging part of you in the back of your mind that constantly thought what if? What if you had made a mistake ending it? What if your story wasn’t over? 

    You pushed those thoughts away—they were no use to you now—and tried to focus on getting though this week without any uncomfortable experiences. 

     You were brought out of your thoughts by  your party moving towards the resort and you quickly hurried to catch up with them. You saw Angela glance back at you but you ignored it and the feeling you got in your chest as she did so.

     You all found your rooms relatively easily after a long trip up many stairs—of course the elevators were out of order for service this week—and many of them were on the same floor. You walked towards the door of your room and slid the keycard in.

     Small. The first thought you had as you walked into your and Angela’s room some hours later was that it was incredibly small for a five star resort hotel. You figured since they were so booked it must have been all they had.

     Which explained why there was only one space that doubled as a bedroom and a living area, one closet, and, you realized with horror, one bed. 

     You heard Angela come up behind you. 

     “This is it,” you gestured to the room. 

     “Where’s the rest of it?” She asked, stepping in and looking around. 

     You set down your suitcase and sighed as Angela glanced around, her eyes landing on the bed.

     “I’ll sleep on the floor,” Angela offered.

     “Angela, I can’t let you do that. I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

     Angela threw up her hands. “So, we’ll both sleep on the floor then.”

     “Doesn’t that seem like a waste of a perfectly good bed?” You asked.

     “I wouldn’t say perfectly good,” Angela mumbled, “I’ve seen documentaries about how they don’t wash those.”

     You rolled your eyes at her internally, but you had to try not to smile. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard this spiel.

     “Well, someone has to sleep in it,” you said.

     Angela pulled at a strand of her hair. You looked at your shoes. This was ridiculous. You could be adults about this. What was the harm if you and Angela shared the bed? There wasn’t anything weird between you. You were…acquaintances, weren’t you?

     Before you could change your mind you said, “We could share it.”

     That got Angela’s attention. 

     “I mean, there’s no reason why we cant, right?” You added. The words even though we broke up were left unspoken between you. 

     “Of course not,” Angela said but she looked like she would rather sleep on the floor. 

     You figured this whole thing must be awkward for her too. Of course, you knew she had moved on from you. You had no doubt of that. But still, you assumed sharing a bed with your ex had to be uncomfortable for everyone, right?

     Either way, it was settled and so a few minutes later you found yourself climbing into bed with Angela on the other side of you, careful to keep your back to her and your body as close to your edge as possible. 

     The last thing you remembered before you drifted off to sleep was hearing Angela’s snores and thinking that you were right back where you were a few months ago. 

                ₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     When you woke up Angela was already out of bed and you breathed a sigh of relief that you didn’t have to face her and could avoid a potentially awkward situation. At least that was something, you thought, as you made yourself get out of bed at what you thought was far too early a time to start a day on vacation. 

     You heard the water water running and decided you would shower that night rather than cross Angela in the bathroom. You threw on the first pair of pants you found in your suitcase and began looking through tops in the closet. You finally settled on one and had just taken off your pajama shirt when something made you pause and you stopped moving as you heard a familiar sound. 

     Angela was singing in the shower. You instinctively took a step closer to the bathroom. She was singing some show tune that you didn’t recognize but the sound was so familiar, so comfortable that you felt as if you’d heard the song before.

     You took another step closer. It was a quiet sound, but her voice grew louder as you stood outside the bathroom door and all you could think of was that it was beautiful. 

    You didn’t know why this was affecting you so much. Probably because it reminded you of when you and Angela were you and Angela. You’d heard her sing plenty of times when you were together. In fact, she’d always made you sing with her so she didn’t hyperventilate trying to sing all of Non-Stop. You’d say you had a lousy voice and she’d tell you the angels were jealous of the way you sounded. You stopped yourself before you got lost in the memory. 

     Unfortunately, you didn’t stop yourself in time to hear Angela’s shower water turn off or her singing stop. 

    You were made aware of this by the door opening and nearly hitting you in the face. Angela looked as shocked to see you as you were to come face to face with her. 

     “(Y/n), what are you—” 

     She cut off and her eyes widened as she looked at you. You caught your reflection in the mirror of the bathroom and you immediately understood why. You had forgotten that you were in the process of changing when you had stopped to listen to Angela.

     You now stood in your pants with your shirt in your hand and nothing but your bra on top—you praised all that was good and holy that you had been too tired to take it off last night before you went to bed—and you stood there in shock. You quickly covered your chest with your shirt but it was too late. The damage had already been done.

     Angela stared at you and you couldn’t read her expression. Surprised? Annoyed? That had to be it, you supposed you wouldn’t be too happy either if you got out of the shower to find someone half-naked lingering outside your bathroom. 

     “Angela, I’m sorry, I was just—” You tried, but she interrupted.

     “It’s ok, bathroom’s all yours,” she said, stepping past you and looking at the ground. You figured it was in your best interest to go along and pretend that you had been waiting for the bathroom so you just stepped in and locked the door, trying not to notice how the room smelled like her. Like her perfume, her conditioner, everything that you remembered from before. You looked at your weary reflection in the mirror.

     It’s going to be a long vacation, you told your reflection, but all it did was stare back at you.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     The next day passed in flashes of beaches and gift shops and avoiding Angela. You had been having fun, or trying to really, despite your living situation.

     Things with Angela were especially awkward after that morning. What was wrong with you?

     I am over Angela. 

     And that became your mantra. As you watched her laugh and talk with all of your cast mates. As you tried not to stare at her and her adorable blue bikini. And especially as you dreaded that night and the horrors it would inevitably bring. At least with everyone else around you could safely navigate your vacation without really having to interact with her. But then you would have to go back to your room and back to your bed and you didn’t know if you could take it. Maybe you were wrong about being able to be perfectly fine with this. 

     I am over Angela.

     And maybe if you said it enough times you’d actually believe it.

    “(Y/n), did you hear me?” Angela tapped you on the shoulder.

     “Oh, no sorry, what?” You asked, dazed.

     “I just asked if you wanted a snow cone, I was going to buy us some,” she gestured to a stand a few hundred feet away. 

     “Oh, no thank you,” you answered and all you could think of was her touch on your arm. 

     You were doomed. 

     “(Y/n), are you ok?” You felt someone come up beside you and you turned around. Arasha was looking at you with a concerned expression on her face. “You’ve been acting weird all day.”

     You supposed you had. “Oh, I’m just tired, that’s all.”

     You risked a glance at Angela and Arasha just nodded but you didn’t think she believed you. 

     After that, everyone started to part ways and go off to explore the city on their own. 

     Amanda turned back to you from where she and Shayne were standing. “You coming with?”

     “I’ll catch up,” you called. You weren’t in any hurry. You stopped to look in the window of a cute little candle shop. There was no reason you couldn’t enjoy your vacation on your own. You were glad of the peace and quiet for a moment. 

     “Hey, where’d everybody go?” Angela ran up to you with a tray full of snow cones. You shrugged.

     “That’s the last time I do anything nice for those lousy—”

     You let out a chuckle. She smiled at you and it was impossible for you not to smile back.

     “So, any place you particularly wanna see?” Angela gestured around as she began eating a snow cone. She held one out to you and you took it.

     “Nothing in particular,” you answered honestly. 

     “Well, then we can see nothing together,” she began walking and you kept pace with her. 

     This was good, you thought. Just a nice, casual walk around the city with Angela like two coworkers would do.

     You made small talk about your job and the things around you and it was easy enough. Angela talked enough for the both of you, so you just piped in when necessary and kept your eyes firmly on the snow cone in your hand. Which was probably why you didn’t see the pole in front of you. 

     “(Y/n), watch out!” Angela jumped in front of you, throwing down the tray of snow cones, and pulled you out of the way just before your forehead connected with the metal pole.

     Your heavy breathing had nothing to do with the near-accident that had almost occurred. Angela gripped your sides tightly and you were closer to her than you had been in a while. For a moment you two just looked at each other before you pulled away and mumbled a quick “thanks”. 

     You were debating wether or not to say more when Chanse walked out of a shop in front of you and fell in to step with Angela. She looked back at you briefly before continued again and as you walked behind them you repeated the only thing keeping you sane. 

     I am over Angela. I am over Angela. I am over Angela.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     By the time you got back to your hotel room it was late and all you wanted to do was fall asleep and not think about Angela or this day. You were just about to climb into bed when you realized that someone was already there.

     Angela. She must have gotten back before you and was already asleep. You paused a moment to watch her sleeping form—she looked so calm and peaceful—before slipping in to your side of the bed, staying as far away from her as possible. You shivered under the sliver of blankets that you had—Angela had wrapped them all around her. You supposed it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you scooted a tiny bit towards Angela in order to be covered by the warm sheets. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it would do, you thought. Your eyelids began to droop as you shivered again. Maybe if you just…shifted… a little…towards…

…Angela. You awoke that morning and the first thing you saw was Angela. Her head was on your chest and your arms were over her back. Your initial horror dissolved into contentment as she nestled her head into you in her sleep and her hair tickled your collarbone. She felt warm in your arms and you didn’t want her to wake up quite yet. Because she wouldn’t be doing this is if she were conscious. You knew you should just sneak out from under Angela and out of bed before she woke up and found you like this but you couldn’t make yourself. 

     Because as you lay here like this with your ex-girlfriend you couldn’t seem to remember why you broke up. This felt right.  You knew you could never say any of this to Angela—she’d moved on from you like you’d failed to do with her. Because you realized then that you weren’t over Angela. 

     You felt Angela begin to stir and you tried to move your body out from under hers but you only got about halfway when she opened her eyes and blinked at you.

     “(Y/n)?” She took in your close proximity and her head in your chest. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her voice was gravely from sleep as she said, “Well, I guess we were cold last night.”

     You nodded and let yourself pretended that was it. 

     “I’m going to go get us some more towels,” you said, standing up and walking towards the door. You didn’t even bother putting on a robe or clothes and figured you’d take your chances wearing your pajamas in the hall rather than staying in here with Angela.

     Once you were out of the room you leaned up against the door and took a deep breath. Your cheeks were hot and you ran a hand through your messy hair. 

     “(Y/n), what are you doing?”

     It was Arasha. She walked towards you from a room down the hallway and you met her in the middle.

     “Getting some air,” you said, “You?” 

     “Couldn’t sleep” she answered and you looked out a window, seeing the dark sky and realizing it was earlier than you thought. Probably no later than 5:30 in the morning. 

     “Are you ok, really?” She asked hesitantly when you didn’t answer.

     You sighed. What was the harm in telling her really? She knew you and Angela had dated. Everyone did. She could probably guess on her own; maybe she already had.

     “It’s Angela,” you admitted. “I thought sharing a room with her would be fine since it’s been a couple months since we broke up but it’s not fine.”

     Arasha frowned, “You’re not on good terms? I thought you two stayed friends after your breakup.”

     “No, it’s not that,” you said, swallowing. “I—I think I’m still in love with her.”

     Arasha’s eyes widened and you fumbled for words.

     “Everything she does reminds me of how things used to be and I’ve tried to keep my distance and remind myself why we’re not together anymore but none of those reasons really seem compelling anymore and I know it’s a bad idea and it could never happen but—”

     Arasha put a hand in your shoulder, interrupting you. “I think if you really love her, then tell her. What’s the worst that could happen?”

     “I could make things more awkward than they already are?” You bit your bottom lip.

     “If worst comes to worst, you can stay with me. Amanda snores anyway.” She laughed and you joined her, grateful for her help and advice.

     “So does Angela,” you remarked fondly, “Thanks, Arash, I appreciate it. I’ll find a way to tell her. I just don’t know what she’ll say.”

    “I think she’ll say that she completely agrees with you.”

     You spun around at the sound of Angela’s voice. 

     “Angela, I—”

     She put up a hand. “I heard everything. I was going to ask you to bring up some muffins with you.”

     Arasha backed up. “I’ll catch you guys later.” She gave you an encouraging smile as she went back into her room and left you and Angela alone in the hall. 

     You said, “Angela—”

     At the same time as she said, “I love you too, (Y/n).”

     “I didn’t mean—wait, what? You do?” You stared at her in shock.

     “I still love you. Actually, I never stopped loving you,” she said, more quietly now. She looked so vulnerable then and you wanted to reach out to her but you didn’t.

     “But we said we were better off as coworkers, as—”

     Angela shrugged, “And how’s that working for us?” 

     You thought about the way this week was going so far for you and realized you hadn’t even considered that Angela felt the same way. That everything was just as hard for her as it was for you. If this trip had taught you anything it was that some things—some people—were worth second chances. 

     You closed the distance between her and kissed her. Kissed her like you’d been waiting to kiss her for thousands of years. In a way, it felt like that. As she kissed you back, you thought that this was how it was meant to be. 

     “You know what? You’re right, I think this works a lot better,” you said breathily.

     She smiled at you. “So, what do you say we go back to bed?” 

     “As long as you stay on you’re side,” you teased her, starting to walk towards your room. You were glad things were more comfortable between you. It wasn’t perfect, but you’d make up for the time you lost together. You still had five whole days of vacation, and you were going to make the most of them.  

     “That,” Angela responded, walking through the doorway and turning back around, looking at you with a twinkle in her eye, “I can’t promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this babes!! have a lovely week and expect a couple more angela fics coming out soon!! 🤭🎀

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

How would the mob boys react to their kid (any genders🙂) being bullied in school bf stalked and harassed because of what they dads do.

Love this so much, they would be fiercely protective for the most part. I'm going to separate it between if they have sons or daughters because they would react differently <3

Mob! Leo

With daughters:

He notices a change, she's more quiet and reserved. Getting up later on school days and dragging her feet when it's time to go in.

He asks directly "what's going on? Is something wrong at school?"

she starts to cry and explains that some of the girls have been calling her names and because the popular boy hates her and they're sucking up to him. He hates her because his dad lost his job due to Leo

Leo tells her exactly what to do: "take. no. shit." They want to name call? He gives her some names she can call back and trust me, they are not playground friendly.

They want to shove past her? Put pins in the shoulder part of your school blazer, see how they like shoving you then.

Do not fight fair, stand your ground and take no prisoners

he pays a visit to the popular kids dad and tells him a few things about how to raise his kid. No body messes with his kid after that.

With sons:

His kid is pretty upfront about it "dad, I'm getting picked on because this kid's dad lost his job because of you"

he's stunned and feels bad but has a plan

This kid is pussying around actually hitting Leo's son, so make the first hit. Make it hard, knock him on his ass and then tell him that his dad's job won't be the only thing he'll lose when Leo finds out about this.

That shut that kid up for good.

Mob! Raph

With daughters:

He's legit heartbroken when he finds out she's getting picked on because she got in a bar brawl with this other kid's dad

he knows it's his fault and that fact his kid is suffering for his actions... Not ok.

He's... Not great with advice for children

"Get 'em in the bathroom. No cameras, no witnesses. The throat is the best place to aim for, just don't let 'em bite you, ok?"

when he gets called into the principle's office because his little girl made another little girl need stitches, he only has this to say "Teach your kids not to be little shits, because I'm teaching mine to break jaws"

end of

With sons:

He's protective but also doesn't want his son to back down and be a coward

a little "come on, kid. Anger is the only emotion that's gonna solve this, don't cry..."

similar advice, tho

"Hit first, leave 'em bleeding. Don't forget to kick 'em while they're down"

He just threatens the principle after that incident, Raph is big enough to always get his own way

Mob! Mikey

With daughters or sons, he wouldn't be different:

He does not beat around the bush

he also does not play fair or like that his kid is suffering because of shit he did

"Bite 'em"

*the child was too stunned to speak*

"Make them regret even looking at you, leave them bleeding and maimed with chunks missing"

that was a speedy call to the school for him

because Mikey's kid is crazy enough (like their daddy) to go through with it

he arrives and his kid has blood on his/her teeth and dripping down their chin onto their white shirt

When Mikey sounds calm, he's most dangerous

"I wonder how the school board and papers would feel about my kid being bullied so badly he/she had to resort to this kind of violence to defend themselves. I think you'd lose your job, I think this school would make every headline for the next two months. I know they'll find you face down in the river not long after..."

No expulsion! Yay!

Mikey is also banned from school ground forever...

Mob! Donnie

With daughters:

He just imparts some psychological warfare tactics

gasslighting these girls, making them question their own sanity

"...And then, when that's all done, you start dropping very subtle hints that you're the one leaving the beheaded pigeons in their bag, on their doorstep, ect. Not too obvious, but so *they* know it was you"

it's pure insanity what he tells them to do

but if they won't do it, they know he will so...

It gets ugly so fast

like, the bully drops out of school for a stay in an inpatient treatment centre bad

he's never been more proud of his kid after that

He really hates bullies and loves making them pay.

With sons:

Similar to Raphael, he doesn't want to raise a "pussy" as he puts it....

More direct as Donnie has no respect for anymore really but values women more then men still

gives his son a knife and gloves and tells him to cut this kid's dad's break line

and to draw a picture in crayon of the kid's dad in hospital with lots of blood and x's for eyes

that gets him called into the school

but Donnie just twists it into a sympathetic gesture (it clearly was not) and his son gets away with it

he Hates bullies. Like, a lot.

[meowzahzzz]

bowser headcanons ft. evil gn reader  ( ♡ )

last one went rly well and i wanted to do something fun...... i did a bit of a redeeming thing for bowser in the previous one, but what if ur both fucked up and evil. couple goals. that one evil love song from phineas and ferb

there’s no fancy, elaborate way to say it: you are bowser’s soulmate.

would he be willing to give up (mostly) his life of evil for his partner? of course.

but a partner who ENCOURAGES it? you’re never getting rid of him.

you and bowser’s first scheme is to make it seem as though you’ve been kidnapped and you’re just a poor damsel, needing to be rescued.

mario, obviously, takes the bait, only to find out it was an elaborate trap.

instead of finding you in a cell, he finds himself in one.

this sparks the other characters like luigi and peach to try and save mario, but with you and bowser as their foes, it’s certainly no easy task.

oh man, the bonding time you two will have tormenting mario together ♡

if you’re more of the manipulative, strategist kind of evil (as opposed to bowser’s menacing strength and brute force approach), he definitely appreciates your efforts. even if he doesn’t really... understand them like you do.

bowser is the figurehead, so to speak, but he’s more than happy to give you the credit you deserve when you start making plans.

bowser finds it especially maniacal if, before tricking mario into getting captured, you try and befriend the pesky plumbers and the princess.

you create this facade of being a nice person, and then BOOM! they all see you for the evil genius you are.

or if you’re the same kind of “big tough guy” evil like bowser, you two will get along even more than before.

it makes things harder for kamek, as he needs to corral both of you into doing your evil deeds as planned instead of destroying whatever’s in your path.

but who cares? it’s fun!

either way, bowser is as happy as can be.

and you’re a great influence on the koopalings.

i imagine it’s like the addams family where the koopalings try to murder each other and rather than trying to stop them, you help them along.

you see iggy chasing after lemmy with a flail and you stop him in his tracks.

“is that for your brother?” you ask scoldingly.

you take the flail from him and instead hand him a machete that’s even bigger than him.

life continues as normal ♡

and this is definitely you reading stories to the koopalings LMAO

SPEAKING OF THE ADDAMS FAMILY...

you are the morticia to bowser’s gomez.

if you thought this king worshipped you before, he’s practically kissing the ground you walk on.

there’s nothing more beautiful (and hot) to him than you being as malicious and evil as possible.

you’ll catch him giving you heart eyes as you torment some poor, innocent toads.

of course you two are to marry immediately. this is TRUE LOVE.

for the reception, you’ll rain on the mushroom kingdom’s parade and cause some chaos.

and for the honeymoon, you’ll invade another kingdom and make it your vacation resort.

the servants and soldiers of bowser’s army see you the same way they do bowser: terrifying.

you might be more approachable in comparison, but with the way you have bowser wrapped around your finger?

you could sic bowser after anyone and he’d leave them looking like a torn-up ragdoll.

speaking of which, he’s very protective.

he understands you’re very capable, he has no doubts.

but he very much wants to prove to you and the entire world that he values and worships you.

and that means he’s not gonna let some jerk try and mess with you.

or, in most cases, have anyone even slightly inconvenience you.

you usually have to keep him on a metaphorical leash (though i don’t think he’d entirely object to an actual one wink) but sometimes it’s fun to let him go apeshit on a poor, random person just because you can.

if you’re comfortable with PDA, bowser is going to be all over you.

to him, you are his king/queen, and everyone should see how lucky he is to have you.

it’s like he’s bragging.

very smugly smiling as he stands next to you like “yeah that’s right THEY’RE with ME and not you 😈”

and he loves if you initiate it too, hanging off of his arm, or even small things like going to touch his shoulder or arm in reassurance.

no defeat ever puts a wedge between the two of you.

if anything, it brings you closer together with the growing hatred of those damn mario brothers.

you two are MADE for each other. no doubt about it.

and everyone would be so happy for you, if you two weren’t trying to destroy their lives with the power of your love.

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith knows, objectively, that love languages aren’t really real. No one has a set way to show love — it depends almost 100% on the person or the situation, and changes regularly as people change.

Lance may be the exception to this fact, and Keith isn’t saying that lightly.

If you explained love languages to someone, and then had them befriend Lance for five minutes, they would have no problem distinguishing him as a gift-giver. That’s not to say that he doesn’t like the other stuff, too. If Lance doesn’t get a certain amount of cuddles a day, he pouts until someone gives in and hugs the boy, which never takes long. (He’s very huggable, in Keith’s — and everyone else’s — humble opinion.) Lance positively lights up when he gets complimented — it’s adorable. He spends almost every second of free time with someone else, even if they’re just sitting in the same room. He also regularly does little chores and tasks for everyone. That’s four of the five: physical touch, words of affirmation, valuable time, acts of service. Check, check, check.

But one thing he does, for everyone, is give gifts. Big and small. Once he got access to the crafting room in the castle in their first week of space, everyone had a little pile of clothes and trinkets on their bed within a month. There’s something he does, though, that always makes Keith smile when he remembers it.

Lance can’t go somewhere without getting someone some kind of present.

And he doesn’t always buy a gift — often they’re just silly little things he sees that make him think of his friends. But every trip, inevitably, he comes back with a little bag full of things he’ll leave for everyone to find (as if everyone doesn’t know exactly who it’s from). At the start of their space journey, he picked things up for Hunk and Pidge — scrap metal, parts, spices, gaming equipment. Whatever he saw. As he started to grow closer with everyone else and learn what they liked, he picked up other things, as well: jewellery and flowers for Allura, collectable little action figures for Shiro, cool rocks and plants for Coran (the two of them had a whole collection of crystals and fossils they regularly geeked over).

He brought Keith home a book. Every time. Every planet, even if there logically shouldn’t be a book Lance can find, somehow he does. At first it confused him — weren’t they rivals? Didn’t Lance hate him? Then why the fuck did he keep leaving Keith gifts? — but eventually Keith understood them for the olive branch/‘I-don’t-really-hate-you’ messages that they were, and things started looking up between them.

Now? Keith is running out of space. The paladin rooms have a couple shelves, but they were filled up pretty quickly. He’s resorted to stacking books in precarious piles around his room. Lance made them into a Christmas-tree-shaped stack last December (or, at least, what they guessed was December), which was pretty funny. But Keith has so many books now that no Christmas tree is big enough to hold all his wordy treasure. (Why don’t you just give some away? you may ask. Surely you don’t need to clutter up your room for books you’ve likely already consumed. And yeah, valid point. Keith’s read them all, he probably could chuck a few. But Keith likes his book collection. Lance is really good at picking books Keith enjoys, actually, and the ones he doesn’t like are fun to read to Lance in a mocking voice, which entertains them both. Plus, each book is like a physical manifestation of Lance’s care. Keith would sooner cut off his beloved mullet. So, no. The books stay.)

It really is becoming a problem, though. Soon Keith is gonna have to replace his mattress with a bookshelf.