#i do love that nobody cares when something was posted as long as they like it rn

[byoldervine]

Been seeing a lot of ‘don’t tell people that their first draft is supposed to suck’ posts lately and I want to make it extra clear for anyone with literal thinking or who may otherwise have been lead under any impression otherwise;

What any advice-giver worth their salt should mean when they say this is “Don’t worry about getting it perfect on the first draft, it’s not obligated to be the best work you could ever make it right off the bat”

For a lot of people the first draft is often the worst draft, and as such we tend to jump to reassuring people that their first draft is meant to be that way, to assure them that it’s not a true reflection of the quality of their writing skills - but that doesn’t mean that it’s the same for everyone, and many people absolutely adore their first drafts, myself included

Because let’s be honest; the first draft isn’t inherently bad. Many are actually incredible, in fact! Sometimes editing isn’t to fix something, it’s just to refine it; sand off the edges and paint on a last coat of polish. It doesn’t mean that what you have isn’t good, and I’d bet money that even the writers who think their first drafts are abominations have written some amazing first drafts

And the idea that your first draft has to be bad because you didn’t suffer the whole time you worked on it? I want to promise you something; the more you enjoy creating it, the better the story will be. You’ll be more creative and imaginative and your readers will feel the love and care pouring out of every word. Nobody wants to read something that nobody wanted to write. There are very, very few ways to write wrong, and the biggest one is to not overall enjoy it

The term ‘suffer for your art’ gets thrown around a lot, and the way I interpret it is that you should be willing to persevere with your passions even when it becomes difficult, as well as learning from your experiences and allowing them to shine through in your work. This means knowing when to take a break when it’s no longer fun, then coming back to it when you’re next in the right headspace to do so, not that you need to push through burnout or god forbid hate the entire process of writing

The number one rule of creative writing, or any form of art, is to have fun. The process can be long and challenging and stressful, and you’re bound to hit a rough patch at least once, if not many more times, just like with any long-term project. But if you’re not ultimately enjoying the process, what’s the point? Suffering for your art does not mean that art is suffering

Write for fun. Enjoy the process, even if you don’t enjoy every step of it. Suffering for your art doesn’t mean hating it. You’re allowed to like your first draft, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Your first draft may very well be your worst draft, as the nature of drafting goes, but your worst is still good and worth loving and enjoying. Anyone who tells you that any first draft is inherently bad either has a different take on the meaning of the phrase or is sadly misinformed. And even if something is inherently bad doesn’t make it unenjoyable or unlovable, or vice versa

[starstruckcomet]

I'm finally following through on the promise I made in the tags of this post a few weeks ago because I have time now:

So even if nobody asked for it and even if I barely know what I'm talking about when it comes to the technicalities of hockey and even though it's not really something that we need to worry about rn since Arty is back with the Abbotsford Canucks for the time being, I am making an Arty defense post (on the one platform I probably don't have to - this is more something Twitter trolls and Instagram comments lurkers need to hear but I digress) because hearing him be hard on himself made me upset.

Fair Warning: long post - 1,425 words

To start, I'll state the obvious: Arty is YOUNG. He is only 23, and it is well known that it takes longer for goalies than forwards or defensemen to hit their stride. This is actually one of the reasons his performance in the 23-24 post-season was so heavily praised. Not only did he step into that goalie position during an incredibly intense moment (the PLAYOFFS‼️in the NATIONAL HOCKEY LEAGUE‼️), he did so in a way that handled the pressure quite well and kept the Canucks in the race. A lot of other players in his position might have folded under that pressure, but he didn't and we truly might not have made it as far as we did if not for him despite the fact that the rest of the team was good. No team can survive without a good goaltender, after all.

But one thing about the NHL is they love narratives. Heck, I love them, too! When everyone and their grandmother was talking about this incredible story of a young goalie who'd been the MVP of the WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS and allowed the Latvian team to win bronze over TEAM USA (the first medal for Latvia in any IIHF World Championship + Latvia literally named it a national holiday!!) — about this young goalie who was now having to fill the shoes of a Vezina-nominated goalie during the NHL playoffs and performing beyond expectation, I fed into it, too. It was exciting! After the anxiety surrounding Demko's injury, it was reassuring to see that our EBUG was not only good, but GOOD‼️He'd played all of 9 regular season games in the NHL before having to be in what is regarded as one of the most intense hockey competitions in the world, and he was consistently better than anyone had expected. Even on nights when the rest of the team fell flat, he played the full 60 minutes, and when we lost Game 7 against the Oilers, the blame was not his. Everyone (and when I say everyone, I mean the fans AND the media) built this image of "Artūrs Šilovs: the guy who can handle pressure like no other."

What some people seemed to forget is that this is not the norm. It is not normal that he played a full hour more than any other goalie in the World Championships when he was not even supposed to be the starter. It is not normal that he set the franchise record for youngest goalie with a playoff shutout while tying second for the most saves made in the playoffs by a Canucks rookie. It is not normal that he was part of the reason there was an extra national holiday in his home country. All of this was him OUTperforming, exceeding expectations – an anomaly – but people seemed to instead create a new, impossibly high baseline for him to meet. The bottom of his baseline was now set where most other goalies' peaks start. To put it simply, people had changed the goal posts for him (sorry, pun intended) and put them in an unattainable spot.

When he started this year and struggled like any goalie his age with his experience might, the image of him that everyone had built broke and people began to dogpile on him like they always do when players perform like humans and not machines. They didn't care that he was young and that the other two goalies he was being compared to were each 29 years old with years of NHL experience. They didn't care that he was forced into this position prematurely. They didn't care that the team playing in front of him was not making his job any easier. The Canucks' season began worse than expected and somehow this was the fault of the second backup goalie with a grand total of 9 regular season and 10 playoff games under his belt. Cool. Makes sense.

This was not anything new for this Vancouver market. Just from having kept up with the Canucks consistently for the past 8 years, I've seen the treatment of our rookies firsthand (Brock and Petey come to mind) and how time after time, they are held to standards no real person could achieve and then crucified when they can't. Arty was Latvia's saviour, and then he was ours, but he is at the beginning of his career and anyone who understands hockey in the slightest should know that this is not sustainable. It would be ridiculous to expect him to be able to pull the Canucks out of a hole everytime we dig ourselves into one. That's not how hockey works. A team may be nothing without its goalie, but a goalie without a team playing consistently in front of him is not going to win either.

And the whole point of AHL affiliates is for NHL teams to be able to see where their young guys are at – to let them get their time and experience in before they're pushed into the intensity of the NHL. Unfortunately, Arty hasn't been able to be in Abbotsford because of Demko's injury and has only started 2 games with them this season so far. But guess what? They've won BOTH those games. In fact, he has been consistently good with the Abbotsford Canucks. Last season, his save percentage with them was .907 with 34 games played. In the 22-23 season, it was .909 in 44 games. Look at those stats and tell me he isn't an incredible player or that he has no potential.

I need all the people saying he's a dud or that the playoffs were a fluke to log off for me real quick and never give their opinion about hockey ever again, because it just shows that you have no idea what you are talking about. Training takes time, progress takes time, consistency is a learnt skill. Expecting a goalie to be amazing right off the bat is stupid and downright naive. Arty has already proven himself. He does not need to be supernaturally incredible 24/7 to earn some respect. Hockey fans need to learn that you cannot build someone up into an idol and then be disappointed when they don't meet your unrealistic standards. He didn't ask to be considered our "saviour." That was forced onto him, which created unnecessary pressure for a rookie, and then people acted like he'd promised them something and not followed through on it. That is immensely unfair.

This is not specific to only Canucks fans. There is a larger conversation to be had about the culture surrounding the NHL and its rookies, and I am sure there are people much more knowledgeable and articulate than I am to touch on that so I won't do that here. But I will say this: In situations like this where fans (and media ‼️) create unrealistic expectations for young atheletes, even in the anomalous best case scenario where the player ends up living up to them perfectly, you risk so much more than you gain. We talk about player's mental health, but these are the exact kinds of things that lead to burnout. I repeat: expecting consistency all the time from one player is NOT sustainable. There will always be low moments in a player's career. Their value is not defined by those moments, but instead how they get themselves out of them. I trust that Arty can do that and I hope that while he continues to find his stride, he is met with the empathy and understanding he deserves after all the effort he has put in for the Canucks. I am so excited to see where his career goes. In conclusion, that man deserves all his flowers and you better give them to him or I will trample your fucking garden. The End.

baby goalie :(

[itsalwaysdark]

i think itis funny in the past when i would list my interests as if i post abt them i donot post abt the shit im into rly Mainly bc im not rly Into Into anything anymore i occasionally watch or read or play something but i dont do fandom stuff rly much.... just sometimes i get brainworms

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

[theonottsbxtch]

I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43

an: guys i’m so sorry for the atrocities i’m about to cause by posting this, i’m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they don’t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this

summary: for as long as she’s remembered she’s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesn’t know.

wc: 4.4k

She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fast—kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didn’t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.

She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself that’s just what friends did—waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. She’d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasn’t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.

Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what she’d always known—that Franco was going somewhere.

Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldn’t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasn’t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream he’d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Franco saw everything she wasn’t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies he’d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didn’t even seem real.

It was this girl—her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let it—who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that he’d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasn’t, but what good would it do?

It was easy to tell herself she was Franco’s friend. His best friend. The one who’d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. She’d learned to wear it like armour—the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.

No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.

The nights she couldn’t sleep, she’d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film she’d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person she’d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t hers. Not really.

Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and she’d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadn’t seen since they were kids. He’d been invited to join a Formula 1 team—a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.

And she’d been the first person he told. “I’m in,” Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “I’m actually in.”

He’d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her too—that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.

And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road they’d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.

“So… this is it, huh?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything she’d left unsaid.

Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin she’d fallen in love with a thousand times. “Yeah. This is it.”

There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didn’t, couldn’t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And that’s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.

“You’ll be amazing out there,” she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.

“Thanks,” Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didn’t see her watching him, didn’t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Because that’s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.

His first race was in Monza.

And Franco had made sure she’d be there.

The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Franco’s first Formula 1 race, the one he’d been chasing since the days they’d spent on that dusty street back home. He’d called her a week ago, saying he’d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldn’t feel right without her.

She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if she’d see him. But instead, she saw her—Franco’s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.

She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as she’d always done. But then Franco’s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.

“Hi! You’re Franco’s best friend, no?” she said brightly, as if she’d been waiting for this meeting. “Franco’s told me all about you.”

She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfect—too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girl’s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasn’t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.

“You know,” she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. “Franco always talks about how you’ve been there from the start. He says he wouldn’t be here without you.”

It was a sentiment she’d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. “He’s worked so hard for this. I just… wanted to support him however I could.”

The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. “That’s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone who’s known him for so long.” She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. “I think he’s planning to introduce me to his family soon.”

A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. “That’s great,” she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. “That sounds really important to him.”

The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. “Yeah… he said he wanted to wait until we’d been together for a year. He’s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.” She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. “I think he got that from you—from seeing how much his family means to you.”

It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldn’t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was just… nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.

“Well, his family will love you,” she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. “He deserves to be happy.”

The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knew—if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.

As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “For being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell he’s lucky to have you in his life.”

She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was true—but not in the way she’d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.

And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stood—at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.

The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. She’d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.

The evening had been a whirlwind—Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way she’d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. She’d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.

A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping you’d still be up.”

“Yeah, just… packing,” she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. “I’ve got an early flight back.”

He frowned, like he hadn’t expected her to be leaving so soon. “I thought you’d stay a bit longer,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”

She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. “I’m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.”

He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. “It’s crazy, right? Like, it still doesn’t feel real.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Oh—and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, I’m planning to bring my girlfriend—” he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared room—“back to Argentina. She’s going to meet my family. I think they’ll love her.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Why her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“Why her, Franco?” She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. “Why not me? What is it about me that you don’t find appealing? Am I too loud? Too… different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. “What is it about me that you don’t love, that you love about her?”

For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.

“Wait—” he started, his voice halting, uncertain. “I… I didn’t know you felt—”

She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. “I loved you first, Franco.”

He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.

“What?” he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.

“I loved you first,” she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didn’t want to cry, not now, not here. “Since we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. I’ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.”

She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love she’d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.

He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. “But… I love her.”

The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope she’d held on to.

She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.” She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldn’t contain. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could say—nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasn’t her.

“I never meant to… I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.

“It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. “I… I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that I’ve always been here. But now…” She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words she’d held for so long finally running dry.

She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.

When she noticed he still hadn’t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. “I hope she makes you happy, Franco,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Really. I hope she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

She looked back down not wanting to catch Franco’s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.

Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.

It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I almost forgot to mention,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, “Franco’s coming back to town soon. Said he’ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.”

She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since she’d finally let herself say all the things she’d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like she’d left a part of herself behind.

“Oh,” she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. “That’s… that’s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.”

Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughter’s casual words. “I thought maybe you’d be excited too,” her mother ventured, her voice gentle. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”

She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. “Actually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with Tía Blanca. I’ve been meaning to go see her.”

Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “You can’t keep running from this, mi amor,” she said, her voice tender but firm.

Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything she’d been trying so hard to let go of.

“I know I can’t keep running,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “But I can now. And I can cope with that.”

Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. “Mi amor, one day, you’re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. It’s the only way to truly move forward.”

She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Franco’s words—But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.

“Maybe one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to be—far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.

Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. “Then go,” she said, with a small, knowing smile. “But you’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldn’t say, she only hoped her mother was right.

A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her aunt’s place.

She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted it—Franco’s car, parked at the edge of the drive.

Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no… please, not now.” She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.

“Oye, there you are!” he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadn’t heard from him in years. “I was hoping I’d run into you before you left. It’s been too long.”

She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasks—closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.

He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his tone softening. “You… you didn’t answer my calls after Monza. I didn’t know if… I just wanted to see you.”

She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. “That’s great, Franco,” she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. “But I really should get going.”

“Wait—” He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. “Can we talk? Please?”

But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldn’t bear to stay, couldn’t bear to let him see her break again. “Take care, Franco,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.

Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.

But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of him—their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.

Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images she’d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams they’d both carried.

She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where they’d been inseparable, a past where she hadn’t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy she’d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.

By the time she reached her aunt’s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the city’s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.

Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.

“¡Mira! Is that really you?”

She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she remembered—warm and solid.

“Angelo!” She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.

He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. “Let me help. You’re here for a visit?”

“Just two weeks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain she’d left behind.

“Well, then,” he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, “we’ve got time to catch up.” His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.

She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her aunt’s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.

The door opened before they could knock, her aunt’s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. “There you are, mi niña!” She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. “And look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, you’re a sweetheart.”

He grinned, shrugging. “Anything for your family, señora.”

They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if she’d left more than just a town behind—she’d left the weight of everything she’d been carrying.

As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.

Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.

to be continued…?

[8housevenus]

lilith through the houses

hii, it has been a while since i have made a post on here; hope everyone is doing well. i wanted to dive into a post about lilith, i see a lot of people who are curious about lilith and how it manifests in their charts. lilith represents many things; rebellion, dark feminine, jealousy, envy, and sense of freedom/power.

lilith in 1st - blessing & a curse. you have a sultry-esque to you, can appear a bit intimidating and off-putting from some sort of intensity; unintentionally. you have habits to always appeal to other people, you have a need to feel approved by others and rejection has always been a hard concept for you. you might have been bullied from women who were jealous of you when you were younger, or often left out on purpose because you seemed "untrusting," people often would read you wrong because they were too afraid to approach you. luckily for you though, you can pick up on these things right away. you have gifts for discernment and are good at blending into your environments nowadays. you are much harder to crack while you age, and that is because you have worked on your confidence & beauty through time- nobody can get under your skin as much as you do.

lilith in 2nd - loves to feel different. you love doing things that go against the standards. while everyone else was stressing over financial issues, housing, and overall structure, you had other plans. you preferred to feel free-spirited with your spending, and always found a way to attract money whether you worked for it or not. others despised you, thought you had it easy, or thought you let yourself go. you have a tendency to let others go, not in a bad way, but in a way that if there's anything stopping you from obtaining something, you will cut ties. you hold onto things that can be used to prove others wrong, probably still clings to photos, messages, etc. hates giving up easily. points out hypocricy on others a lot. you typically hate any form of control over you, not a fan of commands or orders, dislikes an overly organized environment. you like feeling accompanied in your habits. you always play your cards well.

lilith in 3rd - says it how it is always. you notice people usually love you or hate you there's no in between. sometimes attracts people who are two-faced, or always downplaying their achievements. you will really see the ugly side from people because of the way you can easily trigger them. felt held back from a young age to express certain thoughts, always likes to interject, say the things that others do not want to. has a serious tone, usually sounding mature and easily believable. you love pushing the boundaries with society and taking the lead. you are one of one, and you might notice some people have humored you a lot because they don't take you serious enough. people usually never let your past go, or they want to have a say in your reputation. to you though, any attention is good attention.

lilith in 4th - family matters. usually mother or prominent female figure forcing you to follow a path you don't want to. lots of household turmoil's, probably the ones to break a generational trauma, feeling suffocated by family and close ones. you have a hard time with making long-lasting friends and relationships out of fear of being abused emotionally somehow. easy for you to feel drained by others, feels and moves better alone. might have family members who are jealous of you or leave you behind because they cannot stand to see you succeed. maybe you felt that you hadn't been caught up as much as other kids growing up, late learner & way too self-dependent. you are strong in the sense that you take care of yourself better than others have. your pain has taught you how to provide a safe space for other people.

lilith in 5th - felt like you had a lot of energy vampires around you, anytime you wanted to feel fun-spirited you always had some people trying to void that. you are actually very easygoing, attract attention very easily, and people really admire your fierceness. however you fall short depending on the people you surround yourself with. you need uplifting beings around you, those who match your energy very well. you can always decipher who fits for you and who doesn't. you have a tendency to push away your intuition and gut feelings, you like giving chances and the ability for people to restart with you, however you realize it is a waste of time. lot of people will cling to you to try and analyze you, study you. relationships or friendships have used you to try to get the upperhand. people steal your ideas. tired of feeling bad for being yourself. you hope to remain light hearted and unravel new interests that give you a chance to understand yourself a bit more.

lilith in 6th - usually gets bullied because they are healthier than others. i know that sounds kiddish, but im serious. you know how to work twice as hard to get to where you want to be, whether that is career wise or health wise. you experience a lot of significant changes with your appearance, and you will have people trying to tear you down and invalidate your efforts. can deal with people speaking badly about your body, wishing to have your body, or lusting over your body. can have jealous co workers, outside peers, or in general you will notice that as soon as you want to change, many people do not like this. people have this preset notion of you and hate to acknowledge that you are in a better position than you used to be. you like doing things on your own schedule, you are known to being very picky, but as long as it is convenient for you, you do not mind. you're not a heavy complainer, instead you observe a lot and make do with whatever you got.

lilith in 7th - dealt with narcissists a lot of your life, has a fainted image of love and relationships. you guys love to reject other people lol, rightfully so though, most of the time you guys will have people trying to spin back to you. you are unforgettable to the ones you have had close bonds with, specifically with the other gender. can lead to men/women hating you so they can try to get over you. you love being able to try new things in relationships, switching it up is super important to you, and you love a 50/50, good give and take. if someone is too simple with you or doesn't seem as risk take-y as you, you kind of repel that. you crave to be unconditionally loved by someone that loves you in the right conditions. loves speaking out on things you find abnormal. you don't have many standards, which is why you have a lot of experience with the dating realm; however you only feel safe to settle once you see the imperfections in your partner. you hate anything superficial. you feel you can only trust those who are as damaged as you are.

lilith in 8th - feelings of powerlessness, inability to change, or endless karmaic cycles. you have been through harsh times with your inner self, and it has depleted a lot of your confidence. you are naturally more "darker or deeper" than others, you like reading between the lines and that is your superpower. you pick up on the things that most people slip. you have a strong aura of sensual energy whenever you do come together with a partner. seductive and manipulative at times, if you feel that you do not get what you want, you have a way to really make shit break out. lot of internal chaos with trying to figure yourself out. you have a strong admiration for the occult, and it is very known off of you. people often feel jealous that you know more than them, or that you are with-holding information, or that your energy is the most magnetic thing about you. you want to be able to explore everything that nobody wants to. it brings you peace to look from within more than on the out.

lilith in 9th - felt that higher purpose was always a challenge to try to figure out, religiously could have dealt with a traumatizing incident, or felt disconnected. turned against morals at one point and never looked back really. hates feeling narrow-minded, opened to new possibilities, hates certainty because things are so variable. people jealous that you can etach easily, and that you can expand onto bigger and better things. could been troubled in school for minor or major things, free will is a thing you love to test a lot. could have a lot of enemies from different backgrounds and countries, feel easily attacked for thinking differently than others. you notice how your mentality is far more different than others; you tend to be more receptive and optimistic, while other people could be more sensitive and reserved to their own thoughts. you dislike people with the inability to be free thinking as you are. you have a hard time connecting with others because of this, you feel only you can truly understand yourself. you can get frustrated easily and silenced due to it.

lilith in 10th - could feel scrutinized by authority figures in their lives, you might have a father who is controlling or somebody who is a male figure that will try to steer you from your goals. you have tried to make a lot of jobs work, however none feel too important to you. sometimes you feel that work industry can even be useless, simply because it doesn't bring you the satisfaction you want. you can even feel afraid to tap into your power in front of others, maybe seen as too shy or timid to go after what you really want. you sought more attention to what others would think rather than what you think of yourself. attracts jealousy through their jobs and careers anyway, some people find you "too this, too that" to the things you want to accomplish. you put up many facades and fake smiles to people because you feel that a lot of what you do is on display or talked about anyway. people honestly really love to throw some confusion your way, or doubt. you might really like a career that is extremely perplexing or doesn't require much at all.

lilith in 11th - felt weird from everyone else. you learned a lot of harsh lessons when you were younger, matured fast and enjoyed life much later. socially, well liked and easily applauded by others, which means that you also do have folks who have been envious of your abilities to drive the masses. you are unique and set trends. people follow you around or follow you online just to keep up with your aesthetic, it is like you are a hidden gem that prefers to be hidden. you've probably dealt with people trying to get close to you to steal from you or get with your other friends or even partners. you are naturally independent and sometimes too isolating. the feeling of needing nobody can stem from the fact that not many people surrounded themselves with you when you were younger. you socially blend in very well and use it to your advantage, as a lot of people will behave like "kiss-asses" to you. might have also dealt with fallouts with friends that have blamed you regardless of if you were guilty or not. they switch-up just as easy as they befriend you. it is undoubtedly hard to connect with some others.

lilith in 12th - spiritually been at war with yourself for a while, felt like there wasn't a place for you to confide without being shunned. hard time making sense of feelings that actually are justified to feel. others expected you to be strong and to bottle up a lot of your feelings, there was a lack of fulfillment also in teenage years due to the isolation you have went through. felt like you weren't good enough to go through with your ideas, fantasies, and goals. some part of you feels resentment towards yourself, as you learned that you were so hard on yourself when all you needed was to just experience life for what it was. always searching for something deeper. prone to nightmares or visions that have made you cautious, traumatizing experiences that nobody knows about or that has happened that was hidden from you or forgotten. sometimes you feel you don't even know what you are fighting for. you have a unique ability to contact your spiritual guides, manifesting comes easy for you once you work on this burden. you can bring out such strong changes in yourself and are capable of ending your "hellish" loops. people can feel envious of you for your trauma, and i know that sounds off, but you have been through a lot and others will try to act like they understand or can relate when they in fact do not. beware of people who pretend to be in the same boat as you. some will secretly just not like you, plain and simple.

thank you for reading this all through, if i was accurate or off, let me know i would love to see some of your input. there's so much more i can say about each and if you want me to elaborate i will! i know i have put more for some of these and less for others, regardless, i am open to your inputs, thank u <3

[inkskinned]

before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.

you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"

and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.

it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.

you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.

in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.

the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.

you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.

after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.

the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.

you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.

[unluckilyimnot]

OMG I JUST NOTICED YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN THAT JUST MADE MY DAY!!!!

anyways can you do headcanons for bllk character introducing you to either their teams or the press iykwim

pretty please I loveeeee your posts so much <333333

Introducing their s/o to their team - isagi, kaiser, rin, hiori, chigiri

m.list | rules

Note : Hiii you're so cute lslsls thank you sm for your request <3 I chose this one cause somebody else asked about the press finding out so I'll do both !

Nobody is mentioned so I'll choose but feel free to ask for your fav ! 

Isagi 

He's so shy but happy omg

He's probably blushing if they keep saying how pretty you are 

Those who ask a bit more about you earlier to isagi will probably start a conversation more easily 

But you love to talk with everyone!

If you're famous, they'll ask about it or how you two meet or even about your job 

But if you're someone like you and me they're begging to know how you two meet 

They're probably expect something really cheesy based on isagi himself 

He probably get teased a lot afterwards but he takes it easy 

he’s just so happy you can finally meet them 

Rin 

he’s pretty but awful so everybody think he’s bitchless

no need to say that they GASPED when he introduced you

you seem so sweet, what are you doing here ?

“He paid you ?” i definitely see some of them ask you that - like bachira 

wait until you tell them that you asked him and he wasn’t planning of doing without you mentioning it 

they’re shocked, they feel betrayed and are ready to make a scene to him before you calm it down 

everybody want to know more about you, asking you lot of questions to the point that rin has to claim you back 

holding your waist or wrist to remind you that he’s there too 

I think it goes more simply that he imagined at first 

He's always happy when they ask about you even if he doesn’t show it

Chigiri 

just like that time they react when they saw his sister, they will ask him who you are even if it’s obvious that you’re his s/o 

one or two would probably ask you out on a date to make him mad - tbh it’s really funny to see

he’ll blush and become protective over you, adorable 

he would roll his eyes at their jokes but as long as you’re laughing at them, it’s fine with him

he’ll get tease by the gaze he sent you all night, sweet and soft, speaking all the love he has for you before his tongue can 

he’s a bit cash if they’re doing to much though, they have to be careful around his lover 

Hiori

he talks about you regularly so they’re all happy when he mentions that you’ll tag along for a team meal they’re HYPE

they’re so happy to see you it’s cute, you wish every partner is welcome that way 

you’re so soft spoken it totally make sense that you ended up with him 

you’re probably a little reserved and overwhelmed at first but they’re calmer than you thought 

it’s also a lot funnier than you thought so, even if you stay glued to hiori’s side, you can enjoy the night to the fullest ! 

he checks on you frequently, catching a lot of eyes and they make sure to let him know 

you two are just so cute for sure damn couple goal 

Kaiser 

ness is jealous lmao 

he’s very cocky and proud to introduce you to them 

you’re so precious and most importantly : you’re his - he can’t just keep it to himself 

sharing the world about you start with his teammates

he’ll tell them how you two meet and how you fall in love with him - as if he wasn’t the one down bad - with his arm around your shoulders to keep you close 

he trusted them but they can’t touch <3 even in a friendly way 

you’re really welcome though, they’re all very interested in you and your life/job 

it goes pretty smoothly, even if ness is a little salty 

Sae 

he’s reluctant to say the least, he knows he won’t see the end of it 

you’re amazing, he loves you unconditionally

but you’re so good like that that he knows he will have to deal with them asking how you’re doing and he doesn’t like it 

he says yes anyway, and one day he brings you with him at an unofficial meeting 

they’re so shocked but happy to see you in real life (you’re on his lock screen) : they want to know everything

sae is a rather intimate person and doesn’t talk much about his personal life so you’re the one who will tell them the cheesy stuff

yes you received death glares, you you still answer them with a big smile 

you’re funny, they already really love you and they can’t wait to see you more around

I hope you liked it !

[pinkmirth]

KEEPER!

SYNOPSIS! ⸻ you’ve fallen for your darling bodyguard, and you’re over the moon to discover that he feels the same. but this feels borderline forbidden . . . for just how long can you keep what you have with reiner under wraps?

CONTAINS⸻ ( 5k+ words of . . . ) bodyguard!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), fluff, nsfw, modern au, scion!reader (descending from a rich family/influential bloodline), hyperfeminine ‘girly-girl’ reader, reiner’s german, mutual pining, secret relationship / sneaky link, public display of affection (pda), food play, car sex (unprotected), slight dacryphilia, creampie, use of pet names ( e.g. mama, baby, honey, princess), reader calls reiner ‘ papa, ’ explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

MY LOVE LETTER! ⸻ this post is an answer to an anonymous ask: ‘ what about secret dates (turned sneaky links) with body guard! reiner??? ’ oh. my. goodness! nonnie, you’re a sexy genius and you should know it. tagging the amazing @ramonathinks! she’s the one who even introduced this bodyguard!rei-rei concept to me, and for that i’m so grateful :) ramona my love, thank you again for all the delicious reiner thoughts you always send my way! now enjoy, xoxo ♡︎

reiner’s your bulking shadow, never trailing too far behind.

he’s been hired by your parents to ensure your safety. nothing more, nothing less. he’ll follow your every step and drive you wherever you please; after all, it’s what he’s paid to do.

things started off the way they should— professional. from the very beginning, reiner knew to keep his distance, and that he did. but he soon realized just how hard that would become . . . you’re effortlessly gorgeous, sharp with your words and caring to a fault. his growing affection was only a matter of time.

nowhere on the criteria for the job does it say that he should be developing feelings. observing your habits, committing them to memory and predicting your behavior is the only thing he’s got any business doing. yet, he loves to feel the softness of your palm in his hand when he helps you into the backseat of your car, even if the contact is just for a split second at most. he finds himself peeking glances at you from the rearview mirror, soaking in how pretty you look when you’re unaware of his gaze. in truth, reiner wishes you didn’t have such an effect on him; that would make work-life much easier on his poor soul. well, love isn’t known for being simple, now is it?

it takes about four weeks on the job for him to grow a soft spot for you. reiner’s always been a hopeless romantic, oh-so quick to fall. he’d willingly lay down his life for the sake of your own, and not just because he’s getting a paycheck for it. thanks to the job description, his devoutness isn’t questioned.

before long, reiner can tell you’re becoming attached to him as well. on a fateful night, he even overhears the phone call between you and your friend, something about ‘ mister braun being so sexy that it hurts . . . ’ your bodyguard is nothing if not a man of dignity. he never meant to eavesdrop! it’s just that he's stationed outside your room for night patrol. he’s now especially glad about being up at five in the morning; he wouldn’t have been able to hear this otherwise. your confessions pry a subtle grin from his lips. there he stands, smiling to himself in the dimly lit hallway where nobody can see him blush like a schoolboy.

‘ nuh-uh, i can’t! that man works for my parents . . . he’s completely off-limits. it's a damn shame, isn’t it? ’ you release a sigh, one so exasperated that he can hear it through the other end of the door. call reiner crazy, but it sounds to him like you’re yearning to have him all to yourself. in a sudden moment, you're emerging from the room, donned in a tiny pink nightgown. cute, but thin as fuck. leaves nothing to the imagination, even. it’s the flimsiest thing he's ever seen you wear.

reiner’s cheeks burn so red that is downright embarrassing, thankfully you're unable to see him. he’s quick to lift his head and look towards the ceiling instead— much more suitable than ogling the tits of his very own client. you wouldn’t be able to catch him staring regardless, considering how the entire corridor’s tainted with darkness, but he wouldn’t dare try to steal a peek anyway.

what he can see, though, is your leisurely smile as you tell him you’re headed to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water.

“would you like to escort me there too, mister braun? or can i go do something by myself for once?”

you’re playing with him, he realizes. just mere teasing meant to be absolutely harmless. your voice sounds much sweeter at this hour; soft and casual, coated lightly with fatigue from a busy day’s schedule.

“as long as we’re indoors, you can go anywhere you like, madam.” says reiner, “i’ll be here if you need me.”

you make your way to the refrigerator, prancing down the mansion’s luxe spiral staircase, and reiner’s rampant heart finally begins to calm. he wonders if you’d meant for him to hear you on that call. (by now, he knows just how cheeky you can be; it was definitely purposeful.) nevertheless, he's got a job to keep. neither your mother or father would respond kindly if they were to find out that he's become attached to you, or vice versa. he can hardly imagine playing the boyfriend when in reality, he’s supposed to be making sure nothing suspicious comes anywhere near a mile-long radius of you . . . it’s laughable! he’s sure your parents have more than enough money to make him disappear in the blink of an eye— that chilling fact alone puts him on his best behavior.

reiner decides to conceal it; the way he feels for you. keeps his back straight and arms folded to portray the unapproachable persona that got him hired in the first place. you eventually decide to question him over why he so-often wears that solid expression, ‘ like he doesn’t know how to smile, ’ is how you put it. it’s the very first time that you ever hear him laugh, and you turn out to like the sound. rumbly and full of bass. he couldn’t bring himself to admit that in every waking moment, it takes everything to suppress his smile whenever he sees you.

eight months of being in his company brings you to notice that reiner’s a decent listener. he makes for a great conversation, too. sure, he’s just your bodyguard, but he’s got a good ear and a smooth voice. your talks with him are always so lovely; he gives you the comfort to open up about things you’d never be able to tell your parents. pride washes over him when you admit that he’s the only one you genuinely trust. and in these moments, reiner allows himself to get vulnerable too. he tells you of his love for football as a youth, how he takes combat classes five times a week, and that he’s got tons of sisters, brothers and cousins back home in the countryside. the pair of you are so different that the contrast could almost be considered terrible. though, the longer you stay in each other’s presence, the less you can bring yourselves to care.

you and your bodyguard have grown . . . close, to say the least. the way you’re always latching onto his brawny form seems much more than friendly, especially to your parents. ‘ i feel secure with him! ’ is your claim. they’d beg to differ, but your wellbeing is enough to keep them satisfied. reiner excels at his job, and more importantly, the big blonde lug makes you happy. nobody they’ve hired in the past was ever able to get in your good graces; you utterly hated all your former bodyguards. they were much too controlling, lingered too close.

but mister braun was able to differentiate himself. he listens to your dreams and fears alike, treats you like a capable woman instead of some spoiled brat. it also doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes . . .

reiner can no longer take it. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. the smoothest advance he can make is standing at your right side and slinking an arm around your waist, with claims of it being for your ‘protection.’ but the both of you know it’s only the proximity he’s chasing after. the way he looms beside you was always more self-indulgent than it was for safety. he just liked the closeness of it all.

he feels so much for you, and he’s virtually dying to tell you. but there’s countless reasons why he shouldn’t— particularly the risk of losing his job. every now and again, reiner chooses to be a little bit stupid, all consequences be damned. he works up the nerve to release his confession with slow and careful words. you quickly reciprocate, arms thrown around the back of his neck and tugging him into a cozy hug. he takes you by the waist and pulls you closer in— god, he’s been wanting to do this for so long. reiner hums when your manicured fingers ghost his nape, nails grazing the ends of his hair, with your tits pressed to his own chest. the pair of you fit better than he ever could’ve imagined.

you don’t know whether to call yours and reiner’s relationship ‘ official ’ — can it really be deemed as such when you’re the only ones who know? you dare not mention this to your parents, ‘cause he’s got a job to keep and you couldn’t possibly bear him not being around.

so, you’ve both decided that it’ll be a secret. shared only between you and him, so nobody’s able to intervene. dating your bodyguard is fun— brief kisses being shared when you’re the only ones in the room. the way he snugly hooks his arm around your body when escorting you feels tighter, a little more intimate. in a way, keeping things under wraps feels exhilarating.

your particular relation with mister braun isn’t verified to the outside world, but people are catching on. whenever you go out, reiner’s sure to follow. paparazzi-taken photos of you are occasionally uploaded to the internet, and it’s always a given that he’ll be included. after several months of being seen together time after time, it’s typical of people to assume that this so-called ‘ bodyguard ’ of yours is more of a boyfriend. they aren’t too far off, but you clearly won’t go out of your way to confirm their suspicions. you’re always captured in a picture of you clinging onto his burly arm with a glossy smile. your sweet expressions contrast nicely with his forever-furrowed brows. he’s handsome in this intimidating way, the tabloids say.

it’s a slow-moving thursday when reiner decides to take you on your first date with him. he waits a good hour and forty-five minutes for you to get ready. he’s used to this, of course. by now, he’s got nearly a year’s experience of waiting on you hand and foot. but tonight, his nerves get the best of him. you finish up when he least expects you to— for fuck’s sake, you even catch him pacing in the goddamn kitchen. the sight of you melts his concerns, just a little. you’re done up glamorously from head to toe, and reiner can’t contain his smile, nor hold back his stare. your light lashes are curled and wispy, with blush scattered along your cheekbones. your plush lips are pink with tint, and you’ve got on this figure-hugging outfit that he’d love to tear off of you.

you scan your surroundings, peering at every angle of your spacious home in search of your parents. after ensuring the coast is clear, you engulf him in your arms, wishing you could kiss him but you’re all dolled up and your lips are lined and glossed. reiner nuzzles his nose into the crook in your neck, inhaling faint traces of your most beloved vanilla parfum.

“god, you look so fuckin’ beautiful,” his whisper is soft against your warm flesh. you rub your hands along his broad shoulders, then slide them down his firm biceps. “and you look sexy in black,” you perk up at him, eyes round and gleaming. he loves you, he’s come to realize. and the last thing he wants is to screw this up . . .

he’s thinking too damn much. you can easily tell. it’s obvious in the way his thin blonde brows wire downwards like something’s wrong.

“reiner . . . stop it.” you order, voice serious. you only ever speak that way when you want his utmost attention. to that, he fixes his posture and stands tall as if he’s on patrol.

“stop what?” is his vague response, hands loosely positioned at either one of your hips. you lift your palms to cup his face, feeling the definition of his high cheekbones and firm jawline beneath your fingertips. he’s gorgeous, you think.

“for one, you’re clenching your teeth,” you mention, caressing his rigid jaw line until the tightness lessens. his stubble’s rough and scratchy, but it fits him so damn well. “and you’re frowing, baby.” next, your thumbs trail up to his brows, gently kneading at the creased arch. “relax.”

“m’sorry,” reiner lets out, tone low and pleading. his hands rub at your sides in an anxious pattern. “it’s jus’ that you’re so important to me . . . i wanna do this right, y’know?”

“i bet you will, rei. no need to worry, hm?” you shoot him a soft smile, and he returns it; one of the rare times you catch a glimpse of his nice and shiny teeth. “now show me a good time, papa.”

right before taking your leave , your parents have questions for you— almost too many. you don’t have any business meetings or mall trips on your schedule, so where on earth is he taking you to? rei-rei claims that he’s bringing you to a new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to try. he’ll drive you there and stay on patrol; or so he says. they decide not to question the unusually neat way his blonde hair is slicked back, or how his black dress-shirt and slacks look sharper than usual. hell, he smells amazing too. it can’t be denied that mister braun cleans up nicely.

see, reiner told a partial truth to your family. you’re on your way to a new german restaurant that’s about twelve minutes out, it’s just that you wanted to try it out with him in particular. on the drive there, you just can’t seem to restrain yourself from gazing at the man. reiner looks so put together like this, in a strapping black outfit that‘s snug against his arms, chest and thighs. his side profile’s flawless— he’s got a perfectly defined nose that slopes down to his lips, and you yearn to lick on his protruding adam’s apple. he’s got one hand on the wheel, merging into lanes and making u-turns, while the other that’s unoccupied intertwines with your softer, smaller one.

upon reaching a red light, he takes the opportunity to lift your hand up to his face, trailing his lips along the back of it. “lieblich . . .” he murmurs something in his native tongue that you can’t seem to understand, though you know its meaning is a sweet one. your grin makes him forget all about the risk he’s taking.

upon reaching your destination, reiner’s back in bodyguard-mode. that’s how he gets whenever you’re in public. yes, you’re on a date, but your safety will forever be his number one priority. he escorts you in with a large hand fit snugly into the small dip of your back as he confirms the reservation. his touch never leaves you, not even for a second. he does that thing; where he takes a brief one-over of the area, scrutinizing his environment before making the next move. you go one, two, three stories up, to the VIP floor where your dinner seats reside.

it’s a lot, he knows— the velvet floors, fancy cream-white seats and glass-like walls that showcase an aweing view of the city. you’re more than used to the finer things in life, so the only thing he wants to give you is what you deserve.

you’re raving on about how nice everything looks, leaning back into your seat as you sip on a flute of sheer-pink rosé. he’s relieved to know that he was able to make you smile tonight. a waiter presents themselves, and reiner effortlessly engages with them in german conversation. his words are smooth and fluid as he translates all the entrée and sides you asked for. even when placing a simple order, he’s still the sexiest man on earth. would now be a bad time to kiss the hell out of him?

the next three hours go by quick. you’re chatting and laughing and trying bits of each other’s platters ( though, it's mostly you eating a over half of the food from his plate . . . ) you got yourself salted-caramel ice cream for dessert, and reiner’s mischievous enough to lean close and lick the dripping residue off the corner of your lips. you gasp at him and deliver a playful kick to his foot from under the table.

“what? you had somethin’ there.” is the given excuse for his rascal behavior. naughtiness twinkles in his golden-brown eyes. there aren’t many people up here on the expensive floor, apart from two other occupied tables located on the other end of the room, and a handful of waiters that leave the kitchen every now and again. he’s lucky there isn’t anyone to catch you both.

“you’re crazy,” your laugh is infectious, “don’t make me return the favor.”

in a quick motion, reiner swipes a finger into the ice cream, his touch meeting a subtle cold. before the caramel gets the chance to melt all the way down the length of his digit, he smears some across his bottom lip. his tongue juts out to lick up the rest of the treat from his index finger.

“oh, please do.”

being away from probing eyes has made reiner bold as ever. you take him up on his request, tilting forward so that your tongue can eagerly swipe over his lips and wipe them clean. mostly sweet, just the tiniest bit salty. you want more of him already.

there’s isn’t a soul watching, so reiner escalates it. in an instant he’s got your lips merging, his hand squeezing your thigh from under the table, hot puffs of air escaping you both. “oh my god— you’re g’na get me in trouble, rei!”

“so be it,” reiner mumbles in reply, his words ticklish against your lips. from underneath his fingertips, reiner senses how tightly you press your thighs together, hungry for friction. he’s even beginning to feel worked up himself. but, the pair of you haven’t gone that far yet. the most you’ve done are hour-long makeout sessions on your king-sized bed in the earliest points of the day, when you have enough privacy to get away with it. but you wouldn’t mind feeling him in a new way tonight . . .

“you wanna get out of here, don’t you, mama?” reiner coos, cheeks rosier with his eyes slightly lidded. “mhm,” you’re quick to agree. so he puts the payment for the meal on his tab, takes your hand in his and leads you back down to floor one until you’re out of the building and back inside your window-tinted g-wagon.

mister braun is big. you’ve always known it from his appearance alone, but fuck, it holds a much greater meaning when he’s got you tucked into the backseat of your mercedes with his slacks pulled down to his ankles and your dress strewn sideways, making a slow attempt to press himself into you.

“fuck. let me in, princess,” reiner’s grunt is low, throaty enough to make you clench. your flesh feels hot and your pussy’s leaking all over the coffee-brown suede seats. he knows well enough to play around with your clit, reveling in the noises you make when his pressure increases. simultaneously, his lips suction at the smooth flesh of your neck. it feels like you’re burning up, and he’s the only one who can quench your fire.

experimentally, his hips tilt forward, and another two inches make its way in. he’s only got his fat tip and then some past that dripping hole of yours, but it’ll take much more to stretch you wide open for him. he’s groaning and muttering all sorts of profanities— about how tight you are, how good you feel, how fucking nasty this is of you.

“c’mon, woman,” reiner sucks a sharp breath into his lungs, goading you on, “lemme fuck this tight pussy.” he’s got you dangerously aroused, done by the effort of a few dirty words. wetness dribbles down from your slit to the place you and reiner carnally join, slicking up his girthy shaft as he continues to break himself past your tight rings of muscle. you claw at his solid arms, basking in the stretch. his size is imposing, forcing you open to accommodate all of him. it burns in the best way possible.

“m—more, papa,” you make out a pretty whine, knowing just how he loves your begging. you’ve got your lips agape, kissed raw from reiner’s earlier advances. you grow restless and begin to rock your hips, aching to take the entirety of him.

“mm, don’t worry, baby. i’ll give it to you so good,” it takes a little more of reiner bucking his pelvis, movements careful and shallow, for him to finally make it in. he’s bottomed out, and you can feel the throbbing from his underside. having you wrapped around him feels so incredibly right. you clench rapidly, enveloping him in an incomparable warmth.

by the time he’s made everything fit, you’re a darling little mess. your hair’s gotten frizzy and your eyes are all big ‘n glassy, with your lower lip tucked underneath your teeth. one moan after another escapes you, streaming into his ears like liquid gold. reiner throbs at the sound of every little mewl. he licks away your tears which you hadn’t even known began to fall, catching them before they can roll down the apples of your cheeks. you love the feeling, it’s just that there’s so much of him to handle at once— his fat cock, searing-hot tongue, large roaming hands . . . he's this close to consuming you whole, and you want him to.

reiner’s attentive with the way he fucks you. out, in, the pattern goes, hips drawing back before he slams back into your shaking frame all over again. he hits so unbelievably deep every time, like the width of him can’t help but prod against every spot you have. he manages to stimulate every inch of your walls, bumping every crook and ridge possible. not a part of you goes unattended to. reiner dips his head low to catch your beaded nipple between his lips, while his cock drives further inside and impels you to make more room, just for him.

as gentle as he may try to be, reiner’s undeniably a hefty man. taking it slow won’t make any difference; every deep plunge he makes into your cunt has the car creaking on its very own wheels.

“i fuckin’ love you,” he drops the heated words, punctuated with drilling thrusts; but the dick’s got you goin’ all dumb on him. it’s cute, he can’t deny, but reiner needs you to know exactly what you mean to him. so he grips at your chin from either side and lightly squeezes your cheeks together, tender with care but steady enough to make your eyes uncross and focus on him alone.

“you hear me? i— goddamnit, love you more than anything. love you so much,” the deeper he pushes in, the less you can manage to breathe. you feel the pulsing of his cock in your tummy, and it’s like the tip snags so deep that it nearly lingers in your throat. you feel yourself bounce against the seat, tits jiggling whenever he sinks inside, draws out, and snaps right back into you. your gut feels tightly wound up, and your pussy’s become impossibly more sensitive.

you’re close, he can feel it. your walls flutter with more ardor than before, squishing against the base of him with a tightness gratifying enough to spur moans from deep within his chest. you even bring your hands down to claw at his asscheeks, firm and round to the touch; the perfect source of leverage.

“r— reiner!” you cry out to him, and he’s sure his name hasn’t sounded so good up until now. he wonders if you can actually hear yourself and just how slutty you sound. “you’re close, aren’t you, baby?” to that you nod, head bobbing desperately. you don’t have to tell him, he knows. reiner’s knowledge is keen on the topic of you. what you like, what you don’t, and when you’ve had enough. now he’s truly taking his sweet time getting to know you from the inside out.

he presses a consoling peck to your forehead, maintaining that undoing pace of his. the repetitive ‘plat’ of his heavy balls smacking into your sticky cunt is dull compared to the huffing, panting and whining, but it’s there in all its vulgarity.

“ooh, i know exactly what y’need, princess. papa’s g’na take care of you . . . ” reiner doesn’t even say it above a whisper, just declares his devotion in the softest way he can. he slips a hand down the middle of your sweat-streaked bodies to bring some attention back to your precious clit, lewdly slick and much puffier than earlier. he gives swift strokes using the pads of his fingers, combined with the fluid roll of his hips, until you're arching into his broad chest and snapping your quivering thighs closed, trapping his wrist in between them.

reiner can unravel you with such ease, like he lives for the sole purpose of your pleasure and nothing else. you convulse against him, so he slows. but reiner hardly lets up. not completely, that way he’s able to ride you through it. he continues on, feeding you shallow thrusts to near his own high. his movements turn borderline erratic; thighs trembling, cock throbbing. he’s so close, “gonna cum,” his warning comes off as a groan, straight from the depths of his gut, erotic and primal. he’s clenching his teeth again— this time, for good reason. “where do y’want me?”

not a second is wasted before you plead, ‘ inside! ’ and with that, you’ve officially fucking broken him. never did he think his wildest dream would’ve come true by the very first date. lucky mister braun, getting to fill you up— especially when it’s what he’s been stroking himself to the thought of every other night. now, you’re practically crying for him to give it all to you. undoubtedly, he will.

he comes through one final, sloppy jerk of his hips. with a breathy grunt released into the car’s stuffy atmosphere , his warm seed spurts into you, tainting your womb. once reiner slips out, his thick cum pours down to present the most obscene view. it’s all so slippery, seeping down until there’s a wet puddle of your and his making beneath your ass. reiner’s body goes lax, thoughtfully balancing himself over you with his face propped onto your boobs. it’s only now that he realizes, legs cramped up, that he’s a bit too large for the backseat.

“ . . . i meant what i said earlier.” reiner’s voice comes off muffled, with his face stuffed between your tits and all. he looks adorable this way, gazing up at you with his lips curled into a slight pout. his arms loop your waist, snug and secure.

“mm, you said a lot of things earlier,” is your soft laugh, recalling his crude mouth and how worked up it made you. he allows you to rake your nails through his short blonde fringes.

“applying for this gig is the best thing that’s ever fuckin’ happened to me,” reiner makes an attempt to sit upright and show his conviction, but he ends up with his back hunched over in the restrictive space. he disregards his comfort and reaches for your hands, clasping them in his own. “i said that i love you . . . and i mean it.” his words are airy. he’s still winded from the sex.

“and i love you,” you mean it, too. with all your being. you love him in a way you've never loved anybody else. mister braun keeps you safe, sprinkles you with compliments, slips on your heels for you, puts you first. he makes you feel like this pairing has a chance, like you don’t have to hide it. besides, he deserves your all. you should be proud to call him yours, and that you are.

reiner always wants your kisses. in the morning when you wake, right before dinner, and as you’ve recently discovered, after sex too. you’re always eager to receive his lips pressed to yours. “i love you,” reiner adds in between pecks. he now says it like it’s second nature— he loves you. it makes your heart leap from beneath your chest. he kneads your bare thighs in his palms, slowly gliding his tongue into your mouth. without shame, you moan against his lips. slivers of spit tether you both even after you part.

“i want everyone to know that we belong to each other, reiner . . . my family, too.” you admit, peering up at his handsome face through your curled lashes. you’ve got your hands planted at his chest, feeling at the solidity of his pecs.

“tonight?” he asks, tone unsure.

“yes, tonight, rei!”

he adores your sudden zeal for honesty. he truly does, but—

“maybe another day would work better, princess,” reiner muses, “when your parents wouldn’t kill me for all those hickeys on your neck.”

©PINKMIRTH! . . . all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ୨୧

[haveagarbageday]

Nobody got you the way I do \\ Lando Norris

summary: When Lando finds out what your friends truly think about him, he starts to wonder why you haven't left him yet.

additional info: This is a blurb, really. Title comes from OneRepublic's song Nobody.

Some of your friends often wondered why you were sticking around. “It must be tiring,” they said several times when Lando’s struggles with his mental health came up in a conversation. They were reading the posts, saw the interviews, checked the social media buzz around him, so they always knew when there was a reason to bring it up and convince you to break up with him. It was almost a sport for them at this point, which was quite annoying since they were supposed to be on your side.

But you never cared about these comments, you loved him way too much, even on his darker days. He was under a lot of pressure on and off the track, and thanks to his more emotional personality, it was only natural that he wasn’t always in a cheery mood, and there were times when he truly doubted himself. Now that his car was fast and he had pretty good results on every race weekend, he began to overthink everything, terrified that he would make a mistake on the track that could take it all away.

Following the Italian grand prix, your friends were back on their bullshit after seeing the photos McLaren posted, the ones that showed neither Lando nor Oscar were in good spirits despite being on the podium behind Charles. “Gosh, he’s such a sore loser,” one of them noted, a girl you didn’t even remember from before. She was probably a friend of a friend and that’s how she became a part of your group chat. All you knew was that she was usually quiet and decided to stay away from your nights out, so you completely forgot that she existed.

Tired of the pointless fight with them, you put down your phone went to bed, hoping Lando would soon finish his Quadrant meeting and join you before you fell asleep. But he didn’t. You drifted off to sleep without him, and only woke up in the middle of the night when he sat down, causing the bed to shift under his weight. You turned your head to look at him, and you saw him sit there with his back against the headboard, phone in hand as he read something, which made it obvious that he couldn’t sleep again.

“You okay?” you asked him quietly.

Lando glanced down at you with a surprised look. “Yeah, sure,” he replied a little too quickly.

It was a lie, you knew that, but you didn’t say anything, only let out a sigh and closed your eyes again. He reached out to bury his hand into your hair, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheek as if he was trying to help you relax and go back to sleep. It almost began to work when he suddenly let out a groan and you heard the clicking sound coming from the phone as he locked the screen.

“When everyone, including your friends, keep telling you to leave me… why do you stay?”

You raised your head from the pillow and gave him a questioning look, but he refused to elaborate. Knowing your family meant he knew they weren’t so happy that you chose to date him, while some F1 fans also enjoyed bullying him online by writing comments about how you looked too nice and normal to date someone like him. But your friends? You had never mentioned those conversations.

After some time he looked at you, and even in the dimly lit room you could see the sadness in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to snoop around, but when I checked the settings of that app on your phone, a notification popped up from your group chat and I read the preview. How long has this been going on? How long have they been trying to convince you to break up with me?”

A small smile appeared on your lips to assure him everything was okay, but he seemed even more troubled than before, so you decided to sit on top of him and lean down to give him a gentle kiss on the lips. “They can talk as much as they want, but I won't leave you, all right?” you said as your fingers traced his cheek. “I love you, this is all that matters to me.”

He gulped as he watched you, struggling to keep his composure, but when you kissed the corner of his mouth, he let out a relieved sigh. “I love you too. I don't want you to ever leave me,” he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around your waist, and leaned forward to bury his face into your chest.

“Lan?” He looked up at you with a questioning hum. “You would have to do something colossally stupid thing to make me leave,” you told him with a laugh.

[brunchable]

This is Your Boyfriend Mom? [3]

Pairings: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Our savage wittle boi Lucas x f!Reader.

Summary: It's Lucas' 7th Birthday and Bucky finally meets the Dad from Finance. Bucky also FINALLY got a haircut lmfao.

A/N: I will just keep posting Step-Dad Bucky content, this doesn't really have set plot, just cute and funny moments while Bucky navigates how to be a Dad.

The Night Before the Party

You were busy setting up the last of the birthday decorations when you heard the front door open. You didn’t think much of it at first, but then Lucas came sprinting into the living room, eyes wide, looking like he’d just seen a ghost.

“Mom!” he shouted, excitement and shock mixed in his voice. “Bucky’s back, and... uh, something’s wrong with him!”

You raised an eyebrow, turning toward the door just as Bucky strolled in, a smirk playing on his lips. You froze, your hands still holding the banner you were about to hang up.

Bucky had chopped his hair. Gone were the long, unruly locks he’d been hiding behind for months, replaced by a clean, short trim that made him look—well, if you were being honest—like he’d just walked off the set of a cologne commercial. Looking absolutely handsome.

“Wow, look at you. All... polished.” You blinked, trying to suppress a grin.

Before Bucky could respond, Lucas crossed his arms, pacing around him like a tiny detective on the case. “So, Mr. Metal Mop finally decided to join the human race, huh?”

“Really, Lucas?” Bucky sighed.

“Oh yeah. You’re like a whole new person,” Lucas continued, squinting at him. “Seriously, who are you, and what have you done with the walking disaster that usually lives here?”

You let out a snort of laughter as Bucky’s jaw twitched. “It’s just a haircut, kid.”

Lucas tilted his head, eyes narrowed as he pointed dramatically at Bucky’s head. “This? This is not just a haircut. This is a ‘I’m about to show everyone I’m the coolest guy at this party’ haircut.”

“What? No, it’s not! I’m not trying to show off.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow, smirking like a seasoned detective who’d just cracked the case wide open. “Oh really? ‘Cause you didn’t care about looking like a caveman until now, right before my party. Coincidence? I think not.”

“I just felt like a change, alright? This has nothing to do with the party. I’m not trying to outshine anyone.” Bucky crossed his arms, standing taller, trying to play it cool.

Lucas grinned wider. “Uh-huh. Sure. So, you just happened to get a haircut right before a big event? Not competitive at all?”

Bucky groaned, clearly trying to keep his cool. “I’m not trying to compete with anybody. I just thought I’d make things... easier for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, right. Easier. You know, if you wanted to look good for once, you could’ve just said so.” Lucas snorted, shaking his head.

Bucky’s jaw twitched as he quickly looked to you for backup, but you were too busy laughing to jump in.

Lucas leaned in dramatically, whispering, “You can relax, Bucky. We all know Mom doesn’t love you for your looks.”

You burst out laughing, clutching your sides as Bucky stared at Lucas, half-amused, half-offended.

“I’m not—,” Bucky started, running his hand over his hair again. “It’s just a haircut!”

“Oh, sure,” Lucas said, stepping closer, his face serious but his eyes full of mischief. “So it has nothing to do with the fact that Patrick’s gonna be here tomorrow? You’re not trying to look cooler than him? You know he works out, right?”

Bucky frowned, looking genuinely puzzled. “Patrick works out?”

Lucas shrugged. “Yup. I heard him mention it once. But hey, at least now you look like you can keep up.”

“Please. I don’t need a haircut to keep up with your Dad.” Bucky crossed his arms and scoffed.

Lucas smirked, still circling him. “Mmhmm. That’s why you’re all cleaned up—so you can make sure nobody at the party outshines you.”

You were practically doubled over at this point, tears streaming down your face from laughter.

“I’m not competing with anybody!” Bucky insisted, throwing his hands up.

“Right, because getting a ‘too cool for school’ haircut right before the party is totally not competitive.” Lucas grinned wider, seeing that he had Bucky cornered.

Bucky clenched his jaw, still trying to hold his ground. “This is a tactical haircut. Streamlined. It’s practical.”

Lucas grinned, clearly not buying it. “Oh, tactical, huh? Right. Is that what you’re gonna tell everyone tomorrow? ‘Hey, check out my tactical haircut. You like?’”

Bucky chuckles and points at Lucas, “Okay, that’s it. You’re done.”

Without warning, he lunged forward, scooping Lucas up and flipping him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Lucas squealed, laughing uncontrollably. “Bucky! Put me down!”

“Oh no,” Bucky said, shaking his head as he carried Lucas toward the couch. “You’re gonna sit here and think about your life choices.”

Lucas, still flailing and laughing, managed to gasp, “At least I didn’t need a haircut to look cool!”

Bucky plopped him down onto the couch, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re gonna pay for this tomorrow, kid. You just wait.”

Lucas grinned up at him, still breathless from laughing. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, give me a tactical timeout?”

“Unbelievable. You’re supposed to be on my side here.” Bucky glanced at you, exasperated but unable to hide his smile.

You finally managed to calm down enough to speak. “Oh no, I’m staying out of this. Lucas is absolutely right.”

Lucas beamed with pride as he gave you a thumbs-up. “See? Mom knows what’s up.”

Bucky groaned again, dropping down onto the couch beside Lucas. “Alright, fine. Have your fun tonight. Tomorrow, though, I’m stealing all your cake.”

Lucas gasped, feigning horror. “Not the cake!”

Bucky grinned, leaning back. “Oh yeah. Tactical move.”

× × × ×

The birthday party was in full swing, with kids running around, balloons everywhere, and Lucas at the center of it all. You were watching from a distance, laughing softly as Bucky awkwardly navigated the chaos. He was holding a cupcake in one hand, clearly out of his element, but smiling nonetheless. Everything was going smoothly.

The Avengers were scattered around, trying their best to blend in. Clint was at the snack table, sampling every kind of chip he could get his hands on. Tony was in full I’ve-paid-for-everything-here mode, handing out goodie bags like they were shares in Stark Industries. Nat and Steve were casually watching the kids play, exchanging side glances, while Sam was trying (and failing) to explain some complex game rules to a group of seven-year-olds.

Everything seemed perfect.

Until he arrived.

“Uh, hey,” Bucky muttered to you, nodding toward the door. “That’s, uh… him, right?”

You turned to see Lucas’ dad, Patrick, making his way into the party, looking a bit too put-together for a kids’ birthday—pressed suit, perfectly styled hair, and an aura of someone who had just closed a very important deal five minutes before arriving.

“Yep. That’s Patrick,” you said, trying not to laugh at the grimace on Bucky’s face.

Patrick spotted Lucas and waved. “Hey, buddy! Happy Birthday!” He strode over confidently, handing Lucas a brightly wrapped present.

Lucas opened it, pulling out a brand-new Nintendo Switch. He looked up at his dad and gave a polite smile. “Uh, thanks, Patrick.”

Bucky, still watching from a few feet away, cocked his head. “Why’s he callin’ him Patrick?”

You shrugged, whispering, “Lucas just started calling him that on his own. I think it confuses him.”

Patrick glanced over, finally noticing you and Bucky standing there. He smiled—though it was more of a tight-lipped one—and made his way over, extending his hand to Bucky.

“Hi, I’m Patrick. Lucas’ father,” he said, with an air of someone who’s used to introductions being brief and businesslike.

Bucky hesitated for half a second, staring at Patrick’s perfectly manicured hand like it might explode. Then he awkwardly wiped his own hand on his jeans before shaking it.

“Bucky. You know, the boyfriend.”

The words hung in the air like an awkward mist. Patrick’s smile twitched. “Ah, yes. The… boyfriend. Great to meet you.”

They stood there, shaking hands for what felt like five or ten seconds too long, neither one letting go, each one’s grip tightening ever so slightly. You watched from the side, holding back a laugh as the tension built.

Finally, Patrick cleared his throat and let go. “So, uh, how’s the party going?”

Bucky shrugged. “Good. You know, kids. Loud. Messy. Chaos.”

Patrick nodded, chuckling awkwardly. “Ah, yeah. Well, you know, in finance, things are a bit more... orderly.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Finance, huh? That sounds... fun.”

Patrick straightened his posture, clearly missing the sarcasm. “Oh, it’s very rewarding. Numbers, investments... making sure the market flows smoothly.”

Bucky blinked. “Yeah, I bet. I usually just stop markets by throwing people out windows.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Patrick stared at Bucky, unsure if that was a joke or a confession.

You stifled a laugh behind your hand. “So, how about that gift?” you asked, trying to change the subject. “Lucas, do you like it?”

Lucas, who had wandered over to Bucky’s side, gave a polite nod. “Uh, yeah. Thanks, Dad.”

Patrick smiled, clearly not noticing how forced Lucas’s enthusiasm was. “Glad you like it, buddy.”

As Patrick turned to talk to one of the other parents, Bucky crouched down next to Lucas and whispered, “Hey, what’s up, buddy? You don’t seem that excited.”

Lucas looked up at Bucky and sighed. “I already have a Switch. He bought me one for my 6th birthday. He just… forgot.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, glancing between Lucas and Patrick, who was fidgeting with his phone. “Ah. I see.”

Patrick, overhearing, laughed nervously. “Well, uh, you can never have too many Switches, right?”

Bucky stood up, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah. Or, you know, you could... I dunno, maybe remember what you got your kid for his birthday last year.”

Patrick blinked, clearly not sure whether Bucky was joking or not. “Well, you know, with finance and all... numbers just blur together sometimes. I have a lot on my plate.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Right. Numbers blur. Must be hard to forget when you’re counting millions.” His voice was laced with sarcasm.

Patrick chuckled, but it was the kind of chuckle people do when they’re uncomfortable. “Yeah, well… finance life.”

Bucky gave him a pointed look. “Yeah, but I bet remembering your kid’s birthday gifts doesn’t really blur with anything, does it?”

Patrick looked away, clearly flustered, mumbling something about "busyness" as he shifted awkwardly in his suit.

From the other side of the party, you could see Clint and Tony watching the exchange with amusement, whispering something to each other while Steve shook his head at the spectacle. Nat gave a sly smile in your direction, clearly picking up on the tension, while Sam made a “yikes” face, pretending to zip his lips as if to say, Yup, this is awkward.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer, and you let out a snort of laughter, patting Bucky on the arm. “Well, Lucas, now you can... switch between your Switches?”

Lucas looked up, a confused smile on his face, while Bucky chuckled softly under his breath. Patrick, however, just stood there, looking like he wished the earth would swallow him whole.

Patrick, cleared his throat and forced a smile. “So, Bucky, what did you get Lucas for his birthday?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing at you for a second before smirking. “Oh, I didn’t go the ‘two-of-the-same-gift’ route,” he teased, earning a snicker from you.

Patrick’s forced smile faltered slightly, but he maintained his composure. “Right, but I’m sure you got him something nice.”

Bucky gave a nod, gesturing toward the corner of the room. “Got him a custom-built bow and arrow set.” He paused for effect. “You know, something a little more memorable.”

Patrick blinked, clearly caught off guard. “A… bow and arrow? For a seven-year-old?”

Bucky crossed his arms, still smirking. “Hey, I’ve got a friend who’s pretty good with those. Thought it might be a good skill to have. Besides, Lucas loved it.”

Patrick glanced over at Lucas, who was currently showing the bow set to Clint, who was eagerly demonstrating how to hold it properly. Lucas was grinning from ear to ear.

Patrick, trying to recover, chuckled awkwardly. “Well, I’m sure the Nintendo Switch will still get plenty of use.”

Bucky leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough so only Patrick could hear, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, if Lucas forgets he already has one.”

Patrick's smile tightened again as he awkwardly laughed, clearly regretting asking.

From the sidelines, you could see Tony and Sam observing the whole interaction with raised eyebrows. Tony leaned over to Sam, whispering, 

“I’m giving this five minutes before Finance Dad taps out.” 

Sam grinned, nodding in agreement.

× × × ×

The birthday cake was finally brought out, candles lit, and the room filled with the excited chatter of kids and adults alike. Lucas stood proudly at the center, his face glowing in the soft flicker of the seven candles. Everyone gathered around the table, cheering him on.

"Alright, everyone!" you called out, smiling down at Lucas. "On three! One… two… three! Make a wish, Lucas!"

Lucas squeezed his eyes shut and puffed out his cheeks before blowing out all seven candles in one swift breath. The room erupted into cheers, and you bent down to kiss the top of his head.

Just as the cheers started to die down, someone in the crowd—most likely Tony—yelled out, “Time for a family picture!”

The laughter and chatter quieted as you, Lucas, and Bucky moved toward the cake, ready for the photo. But, just as Bucky stepped up beside Lucas, Patrick appeared at the other side, standing just as close.

Both Bucky and Patrick froze, their eyes locking in an awkward stand-off. Neither moved, both unsure of what the protocol was in this moment. Patrick chuckled nervously, shifting on his feet.

“So… family picture, huh?” Patrick said with an awkward smile, trying to ease the tension.

“Yeah. Family picture,” Bucky replied, his tone flat, clearly unimpressed.

The two men stood on either side of Lucas, staring at each other, neither willing to give up the spot closest to the boy. Lucas, meanwhile, was too focused on choosing the biggest slice of cake to notice the tension brewing between the two.

Clint, who had been quietly observing the whole thing from the side, leaned over to Natasha and whispered, just loud enough to be heard by others, “Looks like someone's gotta blink first.”

Natasha smirked but said nothing, her eyes fixed on the scene in front of her.

Sensing the growing awkwardness, you tried to step in. “Um, you know what, why don’t we take a couple of pictures? That way, everyone gets in,” you suggested, hoping to break the standoff.

But neither Bucky nor Patrick moved. Instead, they both shuffled even closer to Lucas, determined to be the one standing right beside him. Patrick forced a smile, trying to mask his discomfort.

“Well, I mean... I’m his dad, so...” Patrick began, his voice light but strained.

“And I’m here every day,” Bucky shot back, his voice deadpan, arms crossing as if he was daring Patrick to push further.

They stared at each other, tension hanging in the air, both waiting for the other to step back. By now, the Avengers had all noticed. From the other side of the room, Tony leaned over to Sam, his voice a stage whisper that was impossible to miss.

“Who’s taking bets? This is about to get good,” Tony said, grinning.

Sam chuckled. “Ten bucks on Bucky. He’s got that murder stare locked and loaded.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, stepping forward before things got any more awkward. 

“Alright,” you said, laying down the final word. “Bucky, you can be in this one. Patrick, you’ll be in the next one.”

Both men blinked in surprise, caught off guard by your no-nonsense tone. Bucky gave a small, smug smile and slipped into place beside Lucas, casually throwing his arm around the boy’s shoulders.

Patrick nodded stiffly, his smile tight and forced. “Sounds fair.”

“Great,” Tony clapped his hands dramatically, clearly reveling in the tension. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Everyone say ‘awkward’!”

The camera flashed, capturing the moment, Bucky’s subtle triumphant grin beside Lucas, while Patrick stood to the side, looking like he was mentally calculating how soon he could make a polite exit.

[tarotofhope]

PAC: ♡ Channelled Love Songs from your Current/Future Romantic Partner ♡

(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)

Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.

(You can find all the songs mentioned in the Piles on SPOTIFY. Unfortunately Tumblr only allows 10 audio links per post🥲)

Pile 1

Songs - Aaya Jado Da by Asees Kaur

Screen Time by Epik High ft. Hoshi

Don't Forget To Breathe by Aaryan Shah

Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. First of all, lot of green ink occured in your pile. Your partner seems very caring, nurturing and protective of you. They might be a very caring and loving person themselves, very protective of their belongings and loved ones. They like to have a quick check on you(like not in a toxic or negative way). They want to know you better and your little quirks. They genuinely care about your well being. They might be very cautious, structured, organised individual, a fitness freak as well. They seem kind of very picky, they don't open up to just anybody, they might have very few close friends. They're mostly not interested in flings and one-night stands. They take relationships seriously so they'll only jump into it when they see some real value in it. This person is like a 'husband/wife material' person or atleast a long term partner. This also seems like a long distance relationship to me or getting into a relationship after a series of personal hardships when you've become very mature either age-wise or experience-wise.

So, that's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.

Hope you're with this person or find this person soon 😉

Hope, light, love and peace to you..🌸🌼🌻

Pile 2

Songs - Talk About Love by Callum Beattie

Seven- Clean Version by Jungkook

Tenu Khabar Nahi by Arijit Singh

Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. Have you guys currently been in separation or broken up with your partner? This could be a recent past energy as well. See, now this also looks like an ex's energy(I don't like to go into this topic because it creates unnecessary confusion but it appeared in the reading so I had to) and whether ex or not, if you strictly don't want this person back into your life, you must then very well know that you've ended up for good and you don't need to allow this person back or this pile totally isn't for you, you should select another pile. One thing is prominent though, one of you has done something bad to the another person..and that was the main reason for your guys' separation. I'm nobody to judge you guys, you know yourselves better. Well, whoever this person is, they want to reconcile with you or you're currently reconciling already. It could be a different case for everyone choosing this pile. It could be so that this person or both of you might still have feelings for each other. This person wants to make things better or do things right. There is a promise of not making the same mistakes again. This person is asking for another chance. Now, you need to decide for yourselves, what's good for you and what's not. It's totally up to you.

That's all I see in the cards for you, my dear Pile 2.

Hope, light, love and peace to you..🌸🌼🌻

Pile 3

Songs - Tera Mera Hai Pyar Amar by Ahmed Jahanzeb

I'm Gonna Love You by D.O. ft. Wonstein

Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley

Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. This person looks so in love. But more so, this person is very sure of you, there feelings are very intense, too. As they are saying, that it's so easy to fall in love with you, either it's a love at first sight situation or there is a certain clarity about choosing you/about wanting to continue further with you. Nothing can change their mind about you. They are giving me strong future spouse energy because they just want to take you away as soon as possible. So, they'll be very assertive in their approach towards you in the courtship period itself. I also think that they'll be the first one to approach you if you've not met this person already. They'll make sure that you know they are not just fooling around, that you're in for a very long ride. They'll also want to make sure that you too, feel the same way for them before going very far because they want it all or nothing. They'll definitely try to win your heart over, Pile 3.

That's all I got for you, dear Pile 3.

Hope, light, love and peace to you..🌼🌸🌻

Pile 4

Songs - Young And Beautiful by Lana Del Rey

Every Second by Baekhyun from EXO (Record of

Youth OST- 3)

Aadat Se Majboor by Benny Dayal

Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. This person might be a heart-throb. Popular person energy(for their work or looks). Everybody swoons over them. Their energy is quite charming and charismatic. They are bold, fun loving and outgoing, life of the party kind of person. You both might be quite the opposite of each other. They will be very confident in their approach. They might just be nervous about how to woo you because you are different from others and they don't want to make any mistake. They don't want to look like a creep. If you've already met this person or in a relationship, you know. They are someone who'll totally make a fool out of themselves to make you laugh. They love to see you smile and laugh but also, you don't laugh a lot, it seems. There seems to be a lot of people who are sexually attracted to them, but they choose you because you are special to them, you're not like the others according to them. They might've got their heart broken a couple times earlier due to which they're afraid of losing you but that's not going to be the case because they're sure of one thing that you're very firm in your decisions, rock solid and you won't run away when life gets bad. You guys are going to be like a power couple, each helping the other person where they are lacking, each completing the other.

So, that's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4.

Hope, light, love and peace to you..🌻🌼🌸

Pile 5

Pile 5

Songs - Lover by Taylor Swift

Spider By Hoshi

Tere Mast Mast Do Nain by Rahat Fateh Ali Khan

Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. Your person seems very Venusian(very lovey-dovey, full of charm, likes fine art) and Neptunian(very dreamy) to me, a hopeless romantic even. Some of you might also be attracted to Pile 4, because this pile has got some similar vibes. They are magnetic, could also be popular for something that they do, something that only they create. They have a good taste in music as well, could be a musician or they like to play musical instruments. Dancing and singing could be their hobby or talent. They are also someone who knows flirting like the back of their hand. It comes naturally to them, sometimes they don't even know that they're flirting. They might also like good food and fine-dining, might also love to cook. You might not like this person in the beginning because you think they're a flirt and they don't look serious, but you'll eventually start liking them because they're not what they seem from the outside. It is giving me the vibes of 'One fell in love first, but the other one fell harder.' Their heart is so pure and innocent. They'll woo you with their heart, Pile 5. You seem like a tough nut to crack to them, someone who's hard to get. I also think you've got pretty eyes and a resting b**** face. They love it. There's going to be a playful banter between you guys. Everything will be worth it in the end.

So, that's all I've got for you, my dear Pile 5.

Hope, light, love and peace to you..🌻🌼🌸

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

———————————♡ ♡ ♡———————————

[lilacqiqis]

"Darling"

naruto, kakashi, obito(non massacre), hinata, itachi(non massacre), sasuke, sai

Scenario: getting casually called darling by their crush

A/N: pls send in Naruto reqs I'm starving to write stuff, also finally decided to give characters specific emojis LMAO last post i made i randomly gave them emojis 😭 Writing this at 3 AM sorry if it's ass -mod Lilac

TW: none, GN!reader

more under the cut

🌱 Naruto isn't used to romantic affection from people, let alone his crush, so his reaction when you call him "darling" is a huge gaping mouth and stuttering as he tries to process what you said

🌱 "W-wait!! Whuh?! Huhhh?!! Whaddja call me?!"

🌱 Whether it's a joke or not he has a dorky smile after as he laughs, the pet name making him feel warm inside. He probably will try and call you a pet name back afterwards, hoping you'll like it just as much as he did.

🌱 Goes to brag to all his friends the next day. "Hey hey! Guess what?! S/O called me DARLING!!" Nobody really cares too much honestly, they think he's overreacting or even lying.

🌾 A stoic man he is, that Kakashi. Not much can get him flustered, besides reading Icha Icha of course.

🌾 He usually can keep his feelings hidden away from his crush, treating you like any of his other friends, but when you call him darling? Lucky that he's wearing a mask because you'd be able to see the huge blush forming on his face.

🌾 He'd try not to react too much, his eye slightly widening and body tensing up when the word hits him. It felt so... Natural? The pet name came off your tongue so nicely that Kakashi can't help but want to hear it more.

🌾 Wouldn't comment on it, but may bring it up in the future to tease you. Perhaps to get back at them he'll also call you a romantic pet name... Nah, he's too nervous to do that, if he was that bold he'd go and just confess already!

🌺 Like Naruto, Obito is flabbergasted. He's liked you for gods who knows how long and you can just casually call him that while he becomes a mess just hugging you?

🌺 His head whips towards you so quickly as he stares at you with wide eyes. How is he supposed to react to this?! Does this mean you like him...? Did you even mean this romantically in the first place? Do you call other people that too?!

🌺 His mind is running and he just kinda... Stares at you in awe. Don't let him down by telling him it was just a joke when he questions you later, he'll be devastated.

🌺 Obito will try and be confident, calling you an affectionate pet name as well but all that comes out is stuttering.

🌺 "Heheh... I think so too, s... S-sweet... Sw-sweethEART OKIMGOINGTOGONOWBYES/O"

🌻 Goes absolutely red. Hinata already gets embarrassed by little gestures so something like getting called darling is sure to make her pass out!

🌻 Did you really mean that? She hopes so! That small name made her day, and she won't ever forget about it<3

🌻 Of course, she's still too shy to admit her feelings to you. If that was your way of confessing you'd be dumb to not see that she obviously likes you too... You'd probably be dumb to not notice her behavior before, after all Hinata isn't very good at hiding her feelings towards you.

🌻 She wouldn't realize it's a confession of your attraction if that was your motive, so please be more blunt with her.

🌙 If you think he wouldn't remember, he will. Itachi is a romantic individual, though not as much before a relationship. He takes note of everything S/O says, and will try to hint towards his feelings through small actions and words.

🌙 Absolutely loves it. Itachi will think about the pet name, wondering if you'd mind if he called you that as well. Maybe you'd get embarrassed that you're getting a taste of your own medicine? It's not the humiliation part Itachi would enjoy, but he'd love to see your flustered face.

🌙 Doesn't make a huge fuss when you call him darling, probably doesn't even say anything about it, but has a small smile while thinking about it.

🌙 Will begin to also call you pet names!! It depends on how close you are, but if you two are good friends he'll return your affection. You two probably end up having a lot of romantic tension while everybody suffers watching wondering if one of you two will finally confess or not...

🪻 Sasuke loves hates it. Do NOT call him that cheesy warm and gooey shit, he will scoff at you then turn his head away. jk he just has an ego to protect

🪻 Hates how it makes him feel. That disgusting ticklish feeling he gets in his stomach and the heat in his face makes him feel weak and vulnerable, so stop that. This is just as bad as a genjutsu and he doesn't like it one bit!

🪻 In reality though, Sasuke adores being called darling. He's just... Really bad at dealing with affection you know? He doesn't know how to react and the feeling of love is so foreign to him, so his only way of reacting is acting like he hates it in hopes of ridding his feelings. (Spoiler alert:it doesn't help one bit.)

🪻 You can catch him with a soft blush and tiny smirk on his face if you can catch a glance before he turns his head. Quit being such a loser and just accept it, Sasuke!

🪶 This was mentioned in his book, so Sai should act accordingly, right? He'll begin to also call you pet names, and he probably already did before you due to the fact he read a book saying he should...

🪶 Doesn't quite understand the meaning behind the sweet names but he's trying his best

🪶 It makes him happy though, being able to connect with you... Someone he enjoys being around so much, someone who he feels he has a "special" bond with.

🪶It creeps into your twos friendship, and before you know it you two are acting like a married couple with all your affectionate behavior.

[mbsneur]

Secret Games

Alexia Putellas x Ona Batlle

Summary: friends? Lovers? Friends with benefits?

WC: 4,5k (a long one)

Warnings: Smut18+,vibrators,rough sex,oral sex, Dom!Alexia, strap-ons, cunnilingus,overstimulation,squirting

My Masterlist

please just read the text before you start reading :)

It has happened what some of you have been waiting for all this time I AM BACK and then with Alexia x Ona you all wished for it and your wish is my command it has been time to think and if I post now it does not mean I will post every day or every other day understand and let me come back in I will post when I am well and have enough time maybe in the next few weeks this fic may not be my best work yet I appreciate any kind of feedback it is a fic I wrote with @patrywoso a collaboration and I love it! !

every mistake and the punctuation was taken care of @melissabarreraswife lots of love <3

I'm curious how you like the fic, let me/us know and if you have any wishes or want to write something, my requests are open :) now u can read

Lots of love <3

spain camp.

Alexia and Ona played against Canada yesterday; it was a tough game that ended 1-1.

The two sit in the meeting room. Montserat just gave her speech about things that need to be improved and that could be better.

Ona sat in the second row with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her tongue clicked against her palate, and her head rolled to the side. Her eyes met Alexia's.

Alexia and Ona were friends with benefits; they didn’t know what they were; maybe friends who had sex from time to time; nobody knew about it, only the two of them. Alexia looked at Ona as if she would undress her at any moment, preferably in front of all her teammates.

After every game, the captains had to give a speech about how things went from their point of view, so Alexia had to do the same.

Alexia’s eyes left Ona’s before she stood up and walked forward. Ona naturally admired Alexia, her powerful eyes that made her melt, her breathtaking smile that she always uses at the perfect moment, and her defined muscles. Her biceps peeking out of her t-shirt, her god, her veiny hand

Ona had other thoughts than this soccer game and it‘s mistakes. Ona thought about what Alexia could do with her hands. Ona couldn’t hold back her heavy breathing as she hastily crossed one leg over the other and pressed her thighs together. Her jaw visibly tensed, and her eyes bored into Alexia’s form.

Ona watched closely as Alexia’s lips moved. She noticed how nervous Alexia became at her looks. Alexia tried to look away.

Ona noticed that someone next to her was keeping an eye on Alexia, the new player in the squad. Sheila, you all called her "shei."

She looked at Alexia as if she were in love, and Alexia gave Shei a little smile. Ona didn’t know if she should be jealous or what it was that made her feel that way. She wanted to be the only one for Alexia.

Ona looked away annoyed and decided to concentrate on the game and alexia’s speech. She leaned back in the chair, and her face turned into an annoyed look.

//

The Team meeting was over, and Ona walked with Cata and Patri towards the exit.

“Ona-Onita”

She heard shouting from behind as she tourned around, smiling Alexia came towards her with the biggest smile she had seen in a long time.

Alexia put an arm around Ona’s narrow shoulders and came closer to her hairline.

“Why don’t you wait for me, idiota?” says Alexia ironically

Ona rolled her eyes in the back of her head. “Why don’t you go with Shei? i think you can ask. Maybe you’ll be assigned to a room with her.” Ona says annoyed, and Alexia starts laughing.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are u being mean to her? We should be nice to the new ones,” Alexia replies with a laugh.

Ona looks angrily at Alexia. Her breathing becomes loud as if she could burst at any moment. “I’m serious, Alexia, go to her,” says ona, more annoyed than before.

“Mh, do you want to go to our room and I’ll massage this anger away from you? How does that sound?” Alexia whispers in Ona’s ear, gently stroking her auricle

Ona’s breathing becomes heavy at the light but intense touch. “i want to rest, Ale,” Ona says and shakes her shoulders to remove Alexia’s arm.

Alexia sighs and lets go of Ona. She groans annoyed and trots after Ona.

The others have gathered in the common room as they do every evening. Will it be

noticeable that Ona and Alexia are the only ones who will be missing?

When Alexia and Ona reach their shared

room, Alexia's arms immediately wrap

around Ona's narrow hips and pull her close to her chest.

She lays her head gently on Ona's shoulder, and Ona tries to squirm, but Alexia pulls her closer to her.

"What's wrong with you, Bonita?" Alexia whispers in her ear and nibbles on her earlobe. Ona lets herself fall close to alexia

and sighs against her, her eyes closed and her body tight against Alexia in her arms.

Alexia's lips move to the side of Ona's neck, and she gives out lots of firm kisses that combine with sucking and nibbling ona‘s

mouth wide open before she gets a word in edgewise.

"Talk to me, what's wrong," Alexia says

emotionally and leans closer to Ona. One of her hands moves up Ona‘s belly and pulls lightly on the hem of her shirt.

"Because she wouldn't stop fucking looking at you like she wants to eat you out," Ona says, annoyed and tries to push away from Alexia.

Alexia starts to laugh. Her hand moves to one of Ona's breasts and pinches her nipple. Ona yells, "Shh, are you jealous, Cari?" Alexia says in a deeper voice. Her finger pinches Ona's now-hard nipple again.

"I am not," Ona sighs.

"I think it's fucking hot when you're

jealous," Alexia says, taking Ona's whole

breast in her hand. Ona moans and lets her whole weight fall against Alexia now.

With a quick movement, Alexa turns Ona around, and her mouth presses down on Ona's Her strong hand grabs Ona's neck, and Ona gasps into Alexia's throat.

Alexia's grip tightens, and she takes the opportunity to slide her tongue into Ona's mouth. Alexia suckers on Ona's tongue. Alexia's hands go from Ona's neck to her breasts. She squeezes them tightly.

Ona finds it hard to kiss Alexia; her kisses

become wet and a wild mess.

After a few seconds, Alexia lets go of Ona, breathing heavily, and looks at her swollen, wet lips.

"Take your clothes off," said Alexia and tilted her head up slightly.

"Ale, if someone hears us and we are the only ones not there," says Ona with slight fear and takes a step back.

"Now," Alexia said confidently.

Ona liked playing around with Alexia; she

loved being a brat who gets punished.

Ona pulled her shirt over her head and

threw it straight into Alexia's arms cheekily

with a mischievous smile.

"Ona, behave or you'll get the fucking

punishment," Alexia says dominantly, and

Ona just rolls her eyes.

"Don't you want to play with me?" Ona asks

cheekily and winks at Alexia.

Alexia hates this cheeky way Alexia could fuck her until she can't spell cheeky anymore.

Ona removes her pants and sees Alexia's

hungry eyes staring at her, at which Ona could only smile

Alexia crosses her arms and doesn't let the little girl out of her sight for a second. She loves it when Ona does what she wants and how every single one of her muscles tenses with these movements. Alexia's eyes widen as Ona bends down to fold her clothes carefully.

Alexia put Ona's clothes aside and then

took up her form. She wore Alexia's favorite underwear, the white lace bra and the

white thong, and with the little bow, Ona

knew what she was doing.

"Thong out of bra on," Alexia said bossily

and pointed to Ona's bra and thong.

Alexia walked past Ona and sat with her legs apart on the edge of the bed. Ona stood small and frightened in front of her. "Where is your big mouth? Are you scared?" Alexia asked with her lip hanging out.

Ona just shakes her head. "Come on my lap, ass up in the air, babygirl." Alexia spits out, and Ona walks tenderly towards her. She knows exactly what's coming. Alexia is leaning back. Her arms hold her up. She watches Ona as she lies down on her lap.

As soon as Ona lies completely on Alexia's lap, Alexia's hand gently strokes Ona's back. "What a pretty girl." Alexia moans, and Ona's lower lip lies firmly between her

teeth. Her whole body is tense.

"Say it," Alexia says before reaching into the meat in Ona's ass. Ona grunts and thinks about her next words, "Imma, pretty girl."

slap

"Fu-fuck," Ona groans and supports herself, but Alexia presses her head firmly onto the

mattress.

"Say it again, baby," Alexia says with raised eyebrows.

"I'm a pretty girl," Ona says out of breath.

slap

"Fuck ale," Ona moans in pain.

One of Alexia's hands grabs Ona's bun and pulls her up. "You're a pretty girl, my pretty girl, lo entiendes?" Alexia says harshly and pulls harder on Ona's hair.

"I understand," Ona gasps and tries to look

at Alexia.

"What do you understand?" Alexia pulls harder, and her teeth clench tightly.

"That I'm your pretty girl, please," Ona says tearfully, and Alexia drops Ona's head. Ona bounces back onto the varnish, and Alexia's

hand lies flat on her tailbone.

"I'm going to have to remind you who you

belong to, relax, Valerie?" Alexia says,

watching Ona's every reaction.

"You want to beat me? You want to torture me," Ona says cheekily, and with a raspy voice, Alexia smiles at her words.

"Count them for me," Alexia says with a

grin, and Ona sighs hard into the sheets.

slap

"one..."

slap

,,two.."

,,Good girl," Alexia says proudly and massages Ona's ass cheeks.

slap

,,Three fuck ale."

"You can still take some, I know it," says

Alexia, whimpering and pressing against

Ona's cheeks.

slap

,,four-,,

slap

,,Five.. I can't ale."

"Have you had enough? You have to understand if you behave like a brat, I will treat you like a brat, mh?" Alexia says, stuttering and looking at Ona's now red ass.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Will you fuck me now, please?" Ona asks tearfully and turns her head to look at Alexia.

Alexia smiles, and Ona's legs spread

automatically.

Alexia's fingers graze the inside of Ona's

thigh. Ona trembles at the gentle touch.

"Are you wet, Bonita?" Alexia asks, and her fingers move on to Ona's core.

"So wet, please, Alexia," Ona says slightly out of breath and tries to rock herself

against Alexia's finger. "God, you're so desperate," Alexia says nervously, and her middle finger goes straight through Ona's folds and absorbs her wetness.

"F-uck," Ona whimpers, and Alexia's finger

plunges into her dripping hole. She moves painfully slowly; her walls squeeze around her finger. "You are so tight. How long have you not been fucked, mh?" Alexia asks, and Ona moans, "I need more, please."

"Answer my question," Alexia said,

croaking, and gave her another slap on the bottom. Ona squirmed.

"Stop moving so much," Alexia says and

clicks her tongue. Alexia pushes another

finger in, which immediately makes Ona moan louder.

"The last one to fuck me was you, and it's been 3 days," says Ona, moaning and

pushing her body upwards.

“That’s right, it will be the last thing you remember,” says Alexia and bends down to kiss Ona’s back

“You feel so fucking good fuck,” Ona screams and arches her back. Her legs spread wider as Alexia’s pace became more erratic.

“Do you want to cum like this spread out?” Alexia asks out of breath, and her eyes widen as she notices Ona’s arched back.

“Fuck yes, please,” Ona begs and tries to cover her moans.

“Don’t you dare cover your mouth. I want to hear you, and i don’t care if the others hear it,” Alexia warns and pulls ona up by her bun again, this time with more force.

Ona’s eyes are glassy, so desperate for an orgasm, “I want to cum please,” Ona moans and looks at Alexia.

“Will you do what i want without being a brat?” Alexia asks, and her fingers hit the perfect spot in Ona’s hole. Ona’s legs tense and tremble against Alexia’s hand.

Ona grinds her teeth. She tries to delay her orgasm as much as possible. “Yes, please, can i cum?” Ona whimpers and rolls her eyes into the back of her head. The sounds with each thrust are obscene and pornographic.

“Good girl, cum for me,” Alexia whispers and speeds up. Ona’s walls get tight around Alexia’s thick fingers. Her thigh muscles are tense, and Ona’s head rests on the lacquer. With her little scream, she comes on Alexia’s fingers.

Ona rides out her orgasm when she has fully relaxed, and Alexia removes her fingers from her Ona’s juices stick to her hand— quite a mess. Ona’s inner thighs are soaking wet, and Ona whimpers to herself

Alexia caught sight of Ona. The aftershocks of her orgasm rushing through her body caught Ona’s gaze and stared into her hazel eyes. “Suck on it,” Alexia said energetically and stretches her wet fingers into Ona’s face.

Without thinking, Ona takes Alexia’s fingers in her mouth up to her knuckels. Alexia moans at the feeling and watches Ona as she licks a long strip from her knuckels to her fingertips to make sure everything is clean.

“Swallow it all of it,” Alexia orders and rams her fingers deeper into Ona’s throat, making her gasp with a loud pop. Alexia pulls her fingers out and spreads her saliva over Ona’s cheek.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” Alexia says with a grunt and gives Ona an intense kiss on the lips. Her hands reach for Ona’s hips to place her gently on her back

Alexia works her way to Ona's jawline and

nibbles at her skin. Her hands find their

way to the clasp of Ona's bra; she removes it and throws it somewhere in the room.

Ona's mouth is open. Her breathing is heavy. Alexia's tongue is now working on her neck. "You will take my cock... the big one, Cari," Alexia says in a low voice, and Ona's eyes meet hers. Ona nods at her words, "Talk to me, Onita; I won't fuck you for the next three months otherwise." Alexia spits and rolls her eyes, annoyed.

"You won't make it anyway." ona grin

Alexia doesn't like the words at all. She slaps Ona on the thigh and runs to her suitcase. ona startles. The pain spreads over her entire left side.

She looks up and down as she pulls her shirt over her head, her eyes full of lust. "See my little slut to ruin," Alexia says devilishly, and she pulls her trousers down her strong thighs. Alexia's legs are tense.

ona watches Alexia bent down to her

suitcase. Ona wasn't a butt girl, but something about Alexia's bum turned her

on. It was defined and muscular, and with every walk it tensed and moved slightly. Ona's bottom lip is between her teeth. Her eyes wander over Alexia's whole body, and she can't suppress the moan that comes out of her mouth.

Alexia wasn't lying when she said that Ona would take the big strap; it was really

bigger than the ones they usually use.

Ona's eyes widen at the sight of the cock. between Alexia's legs uncontrollably. She opens her legs wider and slides up and down. She is impatient.

Alexia steps forward to the edge of Ona's bed. She kisses her shin and takes her other knee firmly in her hand. Her other hand caresses Ona's thigh. Ona's skin is flushed. Her cheeks burn. Alexia's mouth moves higher and opens Ona's legs wider. She kisses all the way up to Ona's neck, and she now hovers completely over her.

"You want my cock inside you, don't you?" Alexia says, breathing heavily against Ona's sensitive skin, "Yes, please." Ona whimpers tearfully and presses herself against Alexia to create some kind of friction. "Please, who?” Alexia says, stunned, smirking slightly at what she knows is driving Ona crazy

"Please, ma'am," Ona says breathlessly and reaches for Alexia's body to pull her closer to her.

"You're so pretty when you know how to use your words." Alexia whispers, and her cock gently brushes the inside of Ona's

thigh. Ona's breath hitches, and her hips lift against the cock.

"Be gentle, Ale," Ona whispers against Alexia's lips. Alexia strokes her cock right in front of Ona's entrance; her hips gently

thrust in, causing a deep croak from Ona's throat.

Alexia pushes deeper into Ona; her lips

collide and catch in a frenzied kiss. "Mark

me; everyone should know who I belong to," Ona moans against Alexia, and Alexia, lets out a harsh grunt. Her lips land on the crook of her neck. She nibbles and sucks on

it like the world champion she is.

"Fuck faster-shit-harder, please," Ona

moans.

Alexia doesn't need to be told twice, and her hips start to find a fast rhythm, her hips. slapping hard against Ona's bare skin with every trust.

"Arch your back for me." Whimpers Alexia Ona's back lifts and presses against Alexia's tits. “You take me so well, Bonita.” Alexia croaks againts Ona’s chest, her lips still firmly against her skin to mark her.

Alexia gets faster, and Ona’s noises get louder.

“Ah, fuck you close so well around me,” Alexia croaks against Ona. Her fingers press firmly into the sides of Ona’s hips.

Alexia’s teeth scrape over Ona’s neck. A shiver flies over Ona’s back.

“You’re mine,” groaned Alexia, and Ona cried out her thighs, squeezing tightly around Alexia’s hips. “Naw, do you want to cum already, baby?” Alexia asks, and Ona just moans and presses her head deeper into the sheets.

“I need to cum please, Alexia.” Ona’s words were coiled in her throat. Her voice is rough, and Ona’s legs start to tremble, and Alexia realizes how tight Ona gets around her cock. it’s a rush of emotion.

Alexia’s head falls to the side, and she realizes how close she is. “That’s it, cum for me, baby,” Alexia says, yearned. Her legs get heavy. She struggles to keep one open. Ona is a big mess. “so desperately for my cock, cum finally,” Alexia adds.

Ona's walls squeeze around Alexia with a

moan of her name, Ona Cum, on her cock.

Her breathing has become heavy just a little bit of life. She is so fucked, but Alexia is far from done with her.

Ona was just about to relax when Alexia takes mine and presses it over her head. Ona screams at the feeling of the cock going deep inside her "sensitive ale." Onal cries and knocks against Alexia's thigh.

Alexia doesn't stop pumping into her. Her hips get faster.

"No, take it." Alexia grunts and feels her orgasm getting closer and closer. Ona is overstimulated; her tears are shaking, and Alexia's hips are getting faster and faster.

Alexia holds Ona's legs in the air. Ona cries; only tears form at the corner of her eyes.

"Tell me who you belong to." Alexia's words become stuttery. Her eyes roll, and her

mouth is wet. "To you, Ale, go on, cum

inside me," she moans, and her hands

scratch Alexia's back.

Alexia gets weaker. Her legs get weak with

her last trust. When she comes into Ona,

she drops Ona's legs and falls on the little, now weak girl.

Ona's arms immediately close around Alex's neck to pull her close for an intimate hug. She kisses Alex's temples. Alexia's

breath is faint, as is her whole body.

“What’s going on? Are you done with me yet?” says Ona playfully.

Alexia lifts her head, and her eyes darken. “Una zorra así no se cansa de mi polla.”

Alexia says angrily before grabbing Ona’s hips and turning her onto her stomach. Her Cock hasn’t left Ona for a second. “Ask me that again after a few more orgasms, you fucking little slut.” Alexia spits and starts pumping into Ona again from behind.

Ona screams out; she wasn’t prepared for the speed Alexia puts on.

“Ale, a little slower, please.” Ona cries, but Alexia doesn’t slow down; on the contrary, she only gets faster.

"You like being such a naughty bitch; you'll

take what I give you," Alexia says with clenched teeth, her hands firmly around Ona's hips.

"Fuckfuck," Ona screams, her legs giving

way.

"You're doing so well; we'll keep going until you've learned what a brat you were once

again," croaks Alexia and gives Ona a slap on the shoulder.

Alexia gets faster. Ona can hardly think straight; her next orgasm builds up; her

belly is kind and Alexia merciless.

"Ale, you're going to make me cum fuck-

right there," Ona cried out. Alexia hits the perfect spot inside Ona.

"No apology first."

"please alexia I'm sorry it won't happen again, please." She begs, and a small smile spreads across Alexia's lips.

"I can't hold it anymore, ale, please." Ona is

a trembling mess.

"yeah baby? Do you have to cum?" Alexia asks playfully, her nails scratching over Ona's sensitive cheeks.

"Such a pretty girl, let me give you what you

need, mh?"

"Ya, please, I beg you." Ona grunts; her noises are getting smaller; it's too much.

"There is it; what a good girl cum on my cock," Alexia says she feels relaxed around her.

Ona comes over to Alexia; Alexia's thighs

are wet from Ona's juices. "Look what a pretty pussy you have. You are so fuckable, you know that," Alexia asks.

"Stop; I can't take it anymore. Too much

ale." Ona cries; she tries to move away from Alexia. “Sh, you can take another one for me, mh.”

“I swear I’ll get Shei in here.” Ona shouts angrily and overstimulated. Her fingers are sore, and her hips will probably be blue from Alexia’s hands tomorrow.

Alexia grabs Ona’s bun and pulls her head up a little. “Stop with these stupid statements; otherwise, I swear I’ll fuck you in hotel corridor, and we’ll all take turns on you; better behave yourself,” Alexia says, and then immediately drops Ona’s head on the sheets.

Alexia keeps pumping into her without a break.

"Come on, babes, I got you; you just want to fuck you dumb, mh."

Alexia's hands glided over every sensitive part of Ona's body. "So good for me."

Alexia's voice was soft, yet her thrusts were rough.

Ona's breathing is interrupted with an obscene moan as she pushes the toy into her alexia's hands. Feel Ona's flushed cheeks before she thrusts hard. Her hips move backwards before she pulls the toy out completely until only the tip is left

inside her before Alexia thrusts hard into Ona again.

"Fuck-oh god," moans Ona as Alexia starts to fuck her again at a brutal pace so that the bed starts to shake with evers trust. The back of the beds hits the wall. Ona was sure the whole house would hear it.

As Alexia thrusts her hips forward and hits places Ona didn’t even know existed, screams escape Ona as she alternately tries to bury her face in the sheets. “Stop it, I want to hear you; I want to hear you scream my name, fuck.” alexia whimpers

“Please, can i cum?” begs ona and moves her hips in a rhythm with Alexia.

“Cum for me,” she gasps as she pushes her hips further into Ona. Ona tenses up immediately. She lets go and lets orgasm come over her with a scream of Alexia’s name.

Ona twitches underneath her. After a few seconds, Alexia removes herself from Ona’s dripping cunt. With a pop, the cock pops out of her. Ona’s juices are spread on her and Alexia’s thighs. She literally drops her arse cheeks redden, and her legs struggle to hold herself up.

Alexia lets the toy fall off her before standing up and going to her suitcase again. “Turn around and lay down, baby, and open your legs wide. I want to your dripping pussy,” Alexia says with her back turned to ona.

She rummages in her suitcase and pulls out a black vibrator. Ona lies weakly on the bed, her legs wide open, her juices running out of her, her chest rises and falls only weakly, her belly is wet, and her breasts are full of hickeys. Alexia smiles at the sight of her fucked brat.

Alexia scurries over to Ona and lies down between her spread legs. She switches the vibrator on to the middle, and Ona lifts her head to meet Alexia’s eyes. “ Look at you all fucked up, mh?” She taunts and presses the vibrator against Ona’s clit, causing her to squirm. “Sh, stay calm, baby, I’ll take care of you,” Alexia says caringly and brings Ona legs back to her place.

“My little slut, my good girl,” Ona’s legs tremble. her eyes shake in the back of her head. She feels her coming closer. A guttural sound escapes her as Ona comes again.

Ona hopes Alexia will stop, but she doesn’t. “i can’t fuck” Ona sobs. Ona is mixed with pain and tears. Her legs try to close, Alexia pushes her head between them and starts to lick the juice from Ona’s thighs.

“Yes, you can,” assures Alexia, and she licks her thighs mixed with little kisses. “Come again for me, Bonita; you look so pretty.”

As if on cue, Ona’s body tenses under Alexia one last time fluid pours out of Ona as she squirts over the vibrator and Alexia’s mouth

A series of screams echo through the room. Ona’s hips jerk around wildly until Alexia sets up the vibrator and puts it aside.

“Shh, baby, you were so good. I’m so proud of you.” Alexia whispers and crawls up to Ona.

“What do we actually do here every time?” Ona asks sentimentally and lies down gently in Alexia’s arms.

“I don’t know. i don’t if i can try.” Alexia says and spreads kisses on Ona’s face. “What do you want to try Ale?” Ona asks and closes her eyes while lying tightly on Alexia’s chest.

“To love you, Alexia says nervously and quickly moves away from Ona. “I’ll get something to clean you up, then we’ll cuddle for a while, okay?” Alexia says and sits up. She makes her way to the bathroom to make a rag with warm water.

a loud knock on the door

“Stop fucking yourselves and come play Fifa, my god,” yells Jenni from the other side of the door.

Fuck

[crescenthistory]

saw ur post about all the angsty requests and i simply cannot let that happen so may i present my request of the lovely barty:

slytherin is throwing a party and barty is already there when reader gets there late but they can’t find each other bc it’s so crowded. but junior being, well him, he’s loud and brash and so some that’s a bad thing but to reader it’s so perfect.

i can imagine him standing on a table, maybe drunk, singing at the top of his lungs for his lovely treasure (reader) and when r does find him, they give him a light hearted scolding but thank him for always finding them in every crowd.

i love barty so much and when i imagine him in love, he’s IN LOVE and he’s so loud about it and it’s just perfect

- 🐈‍⬛

if nobody else has my back, i know komi has my back 🙏👯‍♀️ just a silly little drabble with our best boy

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, alcohol (firewhiskey), reference to smoking, slytherin party, pda, barty pov (so max chaotic energy), romanian!barty, kissing<3, slytherin skittles shenanigans all around

"You know, Junior," Dorcas drawled from where she was leaning against Marlene as one might lean on a wall. "You're supposed to at least pretend to enjoy spending time with your friends."

"Oh, come off it, Cassie," Barty replied while still not looking at her. His face was turned towards the ever-growing crowd in the Slytherin common room, eyes scanning. "You know I'd die for ya."

She mumbled something into her drink that Barty didn't quite catch, but Marlene apparently found hilarious.

"What's got him in a tizzy?" Regulus asked absentmindedly. Barty hadn't even noticed him reappear, but the sounds of liquids swishing revealed it was likely to get a drink and not to spend time with his lovely friends. Dorcas should really be scolding him.

"Y/N's not here yet." Marlene supplied it so matter-of-factly you might not have realised she is a recent addition to the group via Dorcas. Barty did not much care for her yet – but she wasn't wrong.

The two of you always attended parties together. Always had, since the first time Barty all but dragged you along and you found that you actually quite enjoyed them, as long as he was by your side. It had inflated Barty’s ego beyond what it probably needed to – according to Regulus, at least – but more importantly, it was one of the things that first made him feel secure in your relationship. Wanted, needed.

Barty was also at the point where he did not enjoy anything particularly much if you were not there. He could do shots with Evan and rile Dorcas up into picking on Regulus with him, but it didn’t give him that same buzz that ran over his exposed skin. Didn’t make his dead heart beat.

Tonight, though, for the traditional half-term rager thrown sloppily together in Slytherin, you were running late. By some terrible coincidence, you had your prefect rounds the same day, and could not get ready with Barty like you usually did.

He was left standing by the drinks table so that you could easily spot him whenever you returned – but as more and more people streamed in, your face was not among them. And the more crowded the room got, the rowdier it became, and Barty no longer had a clear sight of the entry. 

You could be here and he might not know. That just wouldn’t do.

“Hate to agree with the lion, but she’s right,” he announced then, clapping his hands together as he turned to his audience. Otherwise known as his friends and their mostly uninterested gazes. “My darling sweet angel, light of my life and yours is not here yet, and we need to do something about it.”

Regulus and Dorcas shared a look through bitten-back smiles. “And why is she not here?” Regulus asked, perhaps to avoid the last part of Barty's sentence.

“She has the audacity to follow rules and regulations,” Barty said with a straight face.

Regulus looked back to Dorcas for a translation. “Prefect rounds.” He rolled his eyes at that, a fellow abider of rules and regulations apparently. 

“Being the attentive individual she is, she likely overextended her help and ran late. And now there’s too many people here for me to spot her.” Barty spoke slowly, like he was spelling it out for children. Regulus’ huffing was becoming too frequent and petulant for his current taste. “So. Desperate times?”

He trailed off the end of his sentence, looking to Dorcas to complete it. Instead she asked, “What desperate measures are you aiming at here, B?”

A Cheshire cat grin split Barty’s face in half. “So glad you asked, my dear Dorc.”

Marlene winced and tightened her hold on Dorcas who had already opened her mouth, no doubt to tell him where to shove that nickname, but Barty was already backing away from the trio with his arms spread out wide.

He bodily pushed at a few fifth years standing around a table to make room for him to jump onto it, with no regard for the card game he was disrupting. The table was wobbly, but it carried Barty’s weight with no problem. From this new height, he could see most of the room clearly, eagle-like gaze already working overtime to see if there was a you to locate there yet.

Regulus walked up to stand in front of him on the ground. Barty grinned down at him questioning.

“Joining me, Reggie boy?”

“You wish.” Regulus moved his grip on a flask of firewhiskey to underneath it, so he could most effectively lift it up towards Barty without spilling any. “If you’re on tables already, you ought to have more in your system.”

“What a terrible influence you are, Black. I’m writing straight home to Walburga.” Immediately after his quip, Barty brought the flask to his lips, chugging, while Regulus rolled his eyes in a way that simply must be painful. 

Cheers from around Barty erupted at his very visible drinking, some already pissed students yelling chug, chug, chug. What can he say, Barty’s never one to back down from a challenge.

With an audible pop, he released the bottle from his lips and howled obnoxiously. He could hear Marlene yell a “yeah!” from behind him.

Maybe she wasn’t that bad.

Then, Barty at the top of his burning lungs yelled. “Y/N?! Dragă?!”

No answer. Or, well, no answer from you. Some stupid sods tried to respond, as if he’d ever call them darling.

“Oi! What are you on about?” Some bloke yelled at him from the opposite wall.

“Looking for my bird, you prick!” 

This earned him several wolf-whistles and hollers, which he promptly neglected as he turned around on the table, to no avail. He did not find you – but he had not exhausted the room in his search either. He still could not see every corner.

Using his thumb as a makeshift cap for the bottle, Barty cast a spell to move a table in the middle of the room closer to him while mid-leap towards it. His feet just barely hit the end of it, screech-laughing throughout his entire flight. 

This earned him even more hoots and hollers. Barty would be feeling quite chuffed if it wasn’t for your remaining status as missing. He took a few more swings of the bottle while his hungry eyes swept over all the heads. 

Then, the room must have lit up, because at last he saw you. Standing near the fireplace, squished between several other partiers, trying to gain your own bearings and locate your people.

“Dragă!”

Your head snapped up at Barty’s nickname for you, and the sweetest, most kissable smile spread across your lips. Oh, how Barty needed you to get your arse over here this instant.

He jumped off the table while punching the air in success, manhandling his way through the crowd towards where he now knew you to be. Smartly, you remained put, but your arms were opened for him by the time he got to you.

Swooping in, he abandoned the flask in favour of circling his arms around your waist and spinning you around, relishing in the giggles that escaped you.

“Buburuză, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He spoke into your neck, breathing you in, before pulling away enough to see your face. His smile must be blinding.

“The other prefect didn’t show, so I had double the amount of work,” you said simply, as if that was not an egregious crime against the loveliest prefect there was.

He opened his mouth to say as much, but you cut him off with a kiss, lips curled against his. Barty couldn’t help but sigh happily into you.

“Which can be dealt with later,” you said pointedly once you felt you had mollified him enough with your kisses. “For now, it seems I have to catch up with you. Starting without me?” Whether you had seen the bottle or smelled it on his breath he did not know, he just wanted you to keep talking.

The teasing tone in your voice did something funny to his stomach. “Entirely Reggie’s fault – extensive peer pressure, I tell you. I have Dorcas as my witness.” He nodded solemnly, as if he was presenting his case for a judge.

You shook your head at him and breathed a laughter against his lips as you kissed him again. He surely tasted of firewhiskey and the smoke he had earlier, but you didn’t seem to mind – he loved you all the more for it.

“Come now, there is something we need to do,” he said the second you pulled apart. One of his hands found yours while his other settled around your waist, hooking his thumb in your waistband. 

You furrowed your brows in confused entertainment, but let him lead you through the crowd towards the table in the middle that he abandoned earlier. 

“Barty, what–” you tried to ask, but he tightened his grip around your waist and used it to lift you, abusing a poor chair as a stepping stone to get the two of you on top of the table once more. 

Before you could question him, he spun you around like a trophy and shouted above the music, “I FOUND HER!”, victory evident in his tone.

This time, the wolf-whistles and hollers were even louder, some students stomping their feet to create a drumming sound. You flushed under the attention, melting impossibly further into Barty’s side, but laughter spilled over your lips, albeit nervously. When he looked down, he found you beaming at him. 

He knew himself to look twice as lovestruck as you, but he was happy to report that that was saying something.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” came the chants from the crowd then.

When a brief once-over of you showed no discomfort despite your light embarrassment – you were growing rapidly immune to that through your relationship – he figured, who was he to argue with a drunken room?

He swept you into a deep and passionate kiss, bending you slightly backward with his wide hands splayed across your back. 

“Now that I’m reunited with my love, what do you say we get the party properly started, yeah?”

[koiiiji]

since nobody asked anything in comment section in THIS post i decided to came up with something by myself. now i know you little rogues not reading author notes🤨

Nightly Rituals

LOOKISM & WINDBREAKER BOYS WHILE YOU DOING YOUR SKINCARE ROUTINE BEFORE BED

Gun

Park Jung Gun likes your presence in his apartments, it’s always little bit more warmer and cozy with you. Especially he likes time before bed, and both of you small routines. well, he could call his routine small - just stealing some incomprehensible bottles from you, he doesn’t bother his head to read it, as long as it seems to smooth his skin he use it! also, maybe reading some book or answering to forgotten messages while he waiting for you from the shower - that’s his usual routine before bed.

he could hear the water in shower stop flowing, you wrapped yourself in a towel and slipped out of the bathroom. picking and putting on your pajama the inescapable process has been started. Jung Gun learned your skincare routine perfectly - you always start with your face adding toner, letting it dry while you adding extra products on your hair, then you using millions of bottles - moisturizers, essence, serums, creams on your face, then switching to your body, and finally drying your hair and final step - adding that tasty smelling oil on your hair and boom! you are ready for… bed… “Hun, admit it honestly, you really enjoy all this stuff and not getting tired every time?” he said, getting comfortable and pulling you towards him “It’s one of the ways of meditation you know, Gun?” you murmur softly into his chest

Ma Taesoo

Taesoo enjoys 100% of time when you staying in his apartments. he honestly asked you few times to move in with him, but you politely rejected this idea (i headcanon that Taesoo live in stereotypical bachelor designed apartment… imagine bathroom with no place to put all your bottles? and rooms with cold/neutral lights? brrr, my horror honestly)

and here he are - sprawled out in bed, with his hands behind his head and leaning on the headboard, watching you. in turn, you occupied the table in his room, laying out your makeup bag, hair dryer and some other little things there, and now you were fussily rushing from the bedroom to the bathroom to wash your hands, looking in the mirror with this terrible cold-white lighting in the bathroom. Taesoo chuckled softly, when he saw how you add another cream on your body - specifically on your thighs, saying with his husky voice “Chill woman, enough marinating yourself in all that jojoba creams, im not gonna eat you alive, while you sleep” he grinned at you and pulled you into your shared bed. “Maybe not gonna eat, but you know sweet” he said hugging you from behind, burrowing his nose into your neck “You smell so good and nice that i might change my mind.”

Vinny

it was nice to came to Vinny in apartments that Juwon give to him, honestly better than his previous home. the soft glow of bedside lamps cast a warm ambience across the room, painting shadows that danced along the walls. Vinny lounged in bed, his attention divided between a phone in his hands and the anticipation of your return. you finally took your time after preparing for final exams, allowing yourself to indulge in the luxury of self-care, a small act of kindness to soothe both body and soul. you slowly going through your skincare routine, gently massaging essence into your cheeks and admiring yourself in mirror.

Vinny shifted against the pillows, his gaze drifting to the doorway as he eagerly awaited your return. the soft shuffle of footsteps drew his attention, and his heart skipped a beat as you appeared in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of the moon and city lights outside the window. as you settled beside him, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch gentle against your skin. "Hey," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. "I've missed you." you leaned into his touch, your heart overflowing with love for the man beside you. "I missed you too," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. in that moment, as you curled up together beneath the covers, everything seems right in the world, every problem just disappeared.

Wooin

he always like to violate and invade your personal space. not that you were against it, like now, when he flatly refused to wait for you in bed while you completed your six-step skincare routine and chose to join you. he insisted that he wanted that black mask be put on his skin, while you muttered that he should clean his skin first and then add serum and only after put that mask on. "Babe, why so many unnecessary steps, you know that this mask won't make big changes anyway, right?" he whine like a child who tired of shopping for groceries, when he only agreed to came because his mum promised to buy him some chips. "Because it's the whole thing about skincare, hun!!! You doing it not because of effect, but for the process!! Trust the process you know??!" you said turning to him with annoyed face and that funny crab hair band that Wooin bought for you last time he went to shopping center. he said it looked cool and reminded him of you when you blushing.

after the last five minutes of him hovering around you like an annoying fly, whining about how he wanted a mask too, you finally gave up. going to the refrigerator and deftly pulling out a black bubble mask, you went into the room. and Wooin looked out of the bathroom in bewilderment - where did you go if he was in the other room? as you returning to bathroom, you made him sit on the side of the tub and pulled the same hairband over his head, only green in the shape of a toad, “They didn’t have anything with snakes, so i thought another amphibian would be a good idea too.” you said pulling his hair up and putting that most wanted black bubble mask on his face.

༘⋆🌷🫧💭 ⋆˙

⊹ xo - xo ⊹

author’s note ; okay now serious topic, empty blogs, pls update at least something in your blogs - age, some info like “here for fics/reblogs/etc/“ or at least some pfp, otherwise i will recognize you as bot blogs and will block you, thank u!