#i forgot. they were there. got so caught up......

[rissouu]

I KNOW IM YOUR FAVORITE, gojo satoru ཐི♡ཋྀ

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ in which: he may be your ex, but that doesn’t mean you can just move on.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ wc: 2.9k words.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ warnings: lots of angst, dark content (not really), sexual content, pussy!drunk gojo, stalker!gojo, heavy possessiveness, mentions of violence, pet names, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, baby trapping (but y/n wants it), gojo sucks ur feet for literally 1 second, yandere gojo (ehh), cunnilingus, overstimulation, toxic!gojo (barely), ex!gojo, and etc.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ notes: okay look this shit is very freaky, and it’s loosely based on the song hold me down by daniel caesar! and gojo is a stalker y’all, this is your only warning babes.. please leave now if you’re uncomfy! he is kinda crazy in this but in a lovingly way.. y’know? not proofread either so not too much on me!

when you walked into your apartment you couldn’t help the exaggerated giggles you let out. it was embarrassing actually, acting like a school girl in junior high all over again. the reason for your happiness was pretty simple— you just had your first date.

your first date since you broke up with your ex, gojo.

that was about a year ago now.. a year since you and the love of your life parted ways. up until recently you’ve never had the guts to put yourself out there again, always scared that one day you’ll just end up hurt again.

but your whole view on dating changed when you met this guy at a grocery store. he offered to pay for your entire cart, and it was well over $300 worth. you found the gesture sweet, and from there you two exchanged numbers.

he was no gojo of course, but you had to move on at some point. it’s already been a year, if gojo didn’t reach out yet, then maybe that meant he’d moved on too.

well.. so you thought.

you were so caught up in the excitement from how well your date went, you barely even realized you were still in pitch black.

“fuck i got so distracted i forgot to turn the lights on.” you chuckled to yourself, flipping the light switch on and hanging your purse on the door.

you didn’t know why but you had a feeling you weren’t alone, like someone was watching you— or better yet breathing right down your neck.

the house was eerily quiet, so quiet you could hear the drop of a pen. but something felt off about your apartment, and you were never one to ignore your instincts.

just as you were about to retreat and run out the door, a familiar voice had you stopping in your tracks.

no. fucking. way.

“where were you?” the achingly familiar man smiled, trying his best to hide the dangerous aura oozing from his body. he knew exactly where you were, and always have. you didn’t know it yet— but he’d been watching you for a while now. ever since you dumped him which was more than a year ago now.

technically it was stalking.. but he didn’t like to call it that. in his mind, he was more of a guardian angel— just making sure you’re okay and still breathing.

how else would he check on you since you blocked him on everything else?

the white haired man was sitting on your couch with his head tilted— clearly waiting for an answer although he already knew where you were to begin with. it was pretty easy to keep tabs on you.

you stared at him, a small frown forming across your face. you were feeling weak in the knees. the first thing you wanted to do was jump on him and tell him how much you missed him.

but you knew you couldn’t do that, not anymore. the two of you just didn’t go together, or at least that’s how you felt a year ago. you couldn’t get back with him, you wouldn’t. no matter how much it hurt.. it was better than dealing with his unstability.

“what are you doing in my house, gojo?” you folded your arms— staring back at him with the same expression he was giving you. that’s what he loved about you, you weren’t easy.

with the blink of an eye, he was up from the couch and coming closer towards you. the man easily towered over you so to say he was intimidating was an understatement.

instead of answering your question he just stared at you with a blank expression— and you did the same exact thing. this was common with you two, just staring at each other in silence until one of you dared to speak up.

about five minutes later, gojo finally cracked. you silently praised yourself for being able to last longer than him.

with a low chuckle, he shook his head— slightly licking over his lips. “i think im the one asking the questions here, hm? so answer me.”

you scoffed at his arrogance, seems like some things just never change. “i was on a date if you must know, now get the hell out of my house.”

as soon as you got your words out he couldn’t help but to laugh. honestly, gojo didn’t even know what was so funny, maybe it was the way you said it.. you really thought you held some type of authority?

“and now you’re laughing at me? what’s so funny?”

that only made him laugh more, truth be told gojo wasn’t even trying to laugh, but you trying to be somewhat “mean” was taking him out because you were nothing like that.

you were one of the kindest people he’d ever met, so this little act you had on was amusing to him.

“shit, im sorry!” he clutched his stomach, letting one last chuckle out before continuing. “it’s just.. you really think im falling for this little act of yours?”

your face was quick to scrunch up— finding every bit of his words disrespectful. but it was gojo, so what could you really expect? his bluntness would probably be the death of him.

“excuse me? need i remind you, we are not together anymore gojo!” your voice came out a lot shakier than you’d hoped for it to. what the hell was going on with you?

“well clearly i know that, or else i’d go and kill that fucker you were out with tonight.”

throwing your hands in the air you muttered a strand of curse words, it’s impossible to get through to someone as hard-headed as him. “please just see yourself out.”

before he could respond, you walked off toward your room. you didn’t have the energy to deal with him or his childish antics, he’d already managed to ruin your entire mood. all this did was remind you why you keep your heart locked away— because of arrogant assholes like him.

“there’s no need to be rude, y’know? i just wanna talk to my favorite girl.” gojo followed you to your room— just like you knew he would. god, he’s so annoying.

it looked the exact same as the last time he was here except for the empty wall where the pictures of him used to hang. he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his chest heavy, and heart pang in sorrow. could you really have been done with him for good this time?

“whatever, just don’t get on my bed.. i don’t know where you’ve been.”

‘stalking you’ he chuckled to himself before completely disregarding your request, and plopping down on your bed anyways.

you decided not to scold him for doing exactly what you said not to do. that’s just who gojo was, no one could boss a man like him around.

you weren’t even being serious either. in hindsight, you really did enjoy having him around. as much as you hated to admit it.. it reminded you of the old times, when it was just you and him against the whole world.

“i missed you, y’know? you just up and left without a word.. and next thing i know im blocked.” even though he tried to hide it you could hear the pain in his voice. losing you was like losing a piece of him too, he couldn’t stand it. he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel.

the only reason the man was able to keep it together was because he was watching you, ensuring you weren’t completely out of his life.

it sounded crazy. hell— it was crazy, but when it came to you he’d do anything.

“i know.. & im sorry for the way i handled that. i just felt like we needed to move on, try new things…”

“i don’t want to try new things!” he scowled, quickly sitting up from the bed to face you. “i want you.. just you. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

the air was thick, and the room felt like it was caving in. your body was practically on fire listening to him say the words you’d been craving to hear.

“and about that date of yours..” he cooed, running his hands up your thighs and slowly spreading them. “we won’t be worrying about him anymore, will we?”

that little date was never a threat to gojo to begin with. both you and him knew that, but he took manners into his own hands just to mark his territory.

gojo made sure to corner the poor guy as soon as your date was over, and needless to say.. a few threats were all it took. you should be happy he didn’t do worse, it ran across his mind to kill the poor guy at first.

“i..if we do this then no more bullshit okay?” your soft hands gripped his chin as you forced his beautiful blue eyes to meet yours. “none of that childish stuff this time. we’re both grown so we need to act like it, we’ve had a whole year to fix ourselves.”

every time the two of you got back together it turned into complete chaos. gojo wasn’t the best man out there, and you weren’t the best woman. both of you had your own flaws regardless, but you two needed each other.

that was well established the first 10 times you guys broke up, and unsurprisingly you always ended up back in each other’s skin.

gojo’s gaze on you was heavy, almost as if he was trying to study your every breath and blink. all of the dumb, childish expressions on his face from before were far gone.

“yes princess, whatever you want.” he softly spoke as he sunk his head into the skin of your stomach, littering you with soft kisses. “i’ll do whatever you want..”

gojo spoke so gently— his voice softer than ever as he pushed you on your back, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

you stared at him intently, waiting to see what he would do next. one thing about gojo was he always had something up his sleeve, and part of you knew where this was headed.

when his rough hands gripped the waistband of your flimsy skirt, you didn’t complain. actually you found yourself wanting more, longing for more.

“y’gonna let me get a taste baby? missed her s’much,” soft lips trailed up your thigh— leaving small bite imprints on the flesh. this was his way of staking his claim on you, marking you as his and only his.

you couldn’t stop the shaky sigh that fell from your lips, or the silent nod you gave to your ex-boyfriend for him to continue.

the grin that spread across his face was taunting almost, and intimidating. when that skirt of yours was out of the way, gojo moved on to the black-lace panties. his personal favorite.

“so what, you wearin’ these for other people now?” the fucking nerve of you, he couldn’t believe this. to stoop that low.. well that just won’t do. it seems like he had a few things to correct now that he was back. “fuckin’ answer me. be a good girl for me, yeah?”

your eyes locked with his and all you saw was silent fury, you could tell he was pissed. “not wearing them for anybody toru. just didn’t have any clean ones,”

a lazy grin covered his face at the remembrance of his old nickname, the way it fell from your lips so softly always managed to send heat straight to his dick.

he finally got his girl back.

faint kisses to your cunt had your legs shaking in anticipation— and the soft gasp that left your lips did nothing but egg gojo on as his tongue met your aching clit.

“pussy’s still fuckin’ pretty as ever,” with a low voice his eyes were closed shut, in hopes to savor every last bit of you. when his hands came up to your thighs he couldn’t resist the urge to spread them even further.

the man wanted to explore every inch of you since it’s been so long. so so long since he’s spent some personal time with that pretty pussy of yours.

“w..wait- fuck toru!” you whined when his lips found their way to your pulsing clit, folding his tongue up and down the gooey slit.

his assault to your pussy didn’t stop there. next his thumb was sliding down your sticky folds, not stopping until it was past your tight walls.

your mouth fell open at the intrusion. his thumb wasn’t long but it was thick, causing a bigger stretch than you’d expected.

“so good. taste’s s’good princess,” gojo mindlessly babbled, every word sending vibrations straight to your pussy.

gojo felt like he was out of his body. out of his mind, and he hadn’t even been inside you yet. just what the fuck were you doing to him?

finally fed up with the throbbing ache in his pants he latched onto your clit for a third time, giving it one last kiss before pulling away.

the man couldn’t wait any longer— he needed to be inside you, and he needed it now. before you knew it he was sliding off his sweats and everything underneath it, leaving him completely exposed.

your pussy throbbed just from the sight of him.. you didn’t know how much longer you could wait either.

“don’t worry mama, im ready for ya’.” a low chuckle left his throat when he saw you were just as desperate as him. “you ready for me?”

his blue eyes met your low ones when he slapped his tip against your folds. next he was sliding inside of your pulsing hole with ease, forcing your mouth open.

“o..oh my gosh!“ you winced at the familiar stretch, your walls involuntarily clenched around his dick— trying to push him out.

“n..no- fuck. none of that, y’hear me?” gojo whimpered at the feel of being squeezed, he couldn’t even move you were squeezing him so tight.

the man hovered over you, lips grazing your ear as he coaxed you. “let me in baby, you can do it. i know you can,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck and resting it there.

his words of encouragement had you opening up quicker than he expected, and with every second he was inching deeper into your pussy. gojo felt like he was in a dream— or better yet, on cloud 9. after all that time you still feel the exact same, heavenly.

his strokes were gentle at first, but they sped up when he realized how long he was away from you. a whole year.. never again.

“n..never ever gonna let you keep this shit from me again.” gojo groaned with an edge in his voice that you couldn’t recognize.

your shaky hands wasted no time sliding under his shirt, feeling on the happy trail that covered his v-line. “not gonna take it away toru, ‘s all yours!”

gojo grinned at your words as he pressed onto your lower stomach. with his free hand he gripped onto the back of your thighs and brung your freshly done feet up to his mouth.

his lips wrapped around your toe— eyes locking with yours as he sucked on it. his strokes only got deeper, and you whimpered at all the different sensations at once.

“‘m not gonna pull out,” he admitted as he switched from sucking to leaving small kisses on your foot. “gonna cum so deep in this pretty pussy. never gonna leave me again.”

you were so out of it. drool everywhere, hair messy, tear stained cheeks.. anything gojo said went in one ear and out the other. the man could do whatever, you didn’t care.

“mm yes, don’t pull out. want it s’bad, fill me up please!” small whines filled your throat when you felt a familiar pressure in your abdomen, your pussy wrapping around him even tighter than before. how was this even possible?

gojo’s pace got faster, strokes sloppier.. he was slowly but surely losing all the sense of control he once had before. “f..fuckk ‘m gonna cum toru, so close!”

you gasped when his thumb flicked your clit, looking up at the blue eyes that never left your frame. your legs shook in overstimulation and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold it in.

“let it out mama, you’re okay. gimme all of it- shit.” he hissed as his dick twitched at how tight you were squeezing. “fuck fuck fuck, you’re gonna be such a pretty mama. s..such a pretty wifey, all f’me.”

you threw your head back as chills covered your entire body. the both of you were completely out of touch with reality, not caring about anything but the feeling of one another.

“‘m cumming toru! mhmm ‘m cumming,” you exclaimed, bringing your hand to his stomach. it wasn’t long before the built-up pit in your stomach finally snapped, coating his dick in a ring of your juices.

gojo was close behind you, a whimpering mess as his stomach tightened. before he knew it he was filling you up— spilling his load inside of you, not a drop to be wasted.

“f..fuck yeah. take it mama, it’s all yours. all for you.. gotta give you everything.” he chanted praises as he gave you one last stroke, pushing his cum even deeper into you where it belonged.

your voice was shaky when he called you, so shaky that at first you thought you wouldn’t be able to respond. but even so, you did.

“you’re never leaving me again, understand?” the edge in his voice was back, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your stomach do flips.

“yes toru, i understand.”

if there’s anything you learned from this at all.. it’s that you could never leave a man like gojo satoru.

©rissouu 2025 (this one’s for dulce y’all so thank her, it took me forever *sigh*)

[tsukumomei]

—as long as it's you

ft. Sae Itoshi

summary: everything was in place, but when his mother accidentally reveals the surprise, sae has to improvise. wc. 1.3 k

Sae had it all planned out.

He wasn’t the type to make grand romantic gestures; he preferred to keep things simple and understated. 

But for you, he wanted to try, because he knew you deserved nothing less.

You loved people, gatherings, and celebrations. You thrived in the presence of those you held dear, so he’d taken note of every little thing you loved and orchestrated an evening just for you. Sae rented out the quaint, secluded garden café that had become your spot—a place where you made countless memories with.

The place would be adorned with soft fairy lights, casting a golden glow over the field. To top it all off, he had planned a fireworks display that would light up the night sky with the words: Will you marry me? 

He really was going all out for this.

The tables would be draped in elegant linen and scattered with your favorite flowers. He’d chosen a menu you would love, with dishes catered to every one of your favorites, down to the dessert: the same tiramisu you raved about during your first date.

It's great because it's so unbelievably out-of-character for him to do that you'd never guess it.

And then there was the ring.

He’d spent weeks looking for the perfect one, turning down countless designs until he found a jeweler in Italy who could create something unique—something as special as you. A custom piece: a delicate rose-gold band with a center diamond that sparkled like starlight, flanked by tiny sapphires to match the color of his eyes.

The ring had finally arrived today, nestled in an elegant velvet box. He held it in his hands for a moment, marveling at how something so small could hold so much meaning. The anticipation was almost unbearable, but there was still time to wait. He tucked the box into a drawer in his study before heading out to handle some business, reminding himself to grab it later.

Just as he was leaving, his mother noticed the package in his hand. "What’s that, Sae?" she asked, her tone light and curious.

He hesitated, then gave a faint smile. "Just something for y/n."

But fate, as it often does, had other plans.

Later that afternoon, you dropped by on a whim. "I just wanted to visit," you said with that radiant smile of yours, and Sae’s mother welcomed you warmly. She adored you—always had, ever since you and Sae were kids running around the neighborhood together.

As you chatted with Sae’s mother over tea, her voice turned light and casual, as if she were sharing a harmless little secret. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, setting her cup down with a soft clink. “Sae mentioned he got something for you. It’s in the study drawer over there. You should go get it.”

Your eyes immediately lit up with curiosity, a delighted smile spreading across your face. “Really? What is it?!” you asked, excitement bubbling in your tone as you pushed your chair back and made your way toward the study.

Sae’s mother opened her mouth, realizing her mistake too late. “Oh, wait—” she started, but you were already out of earshot.

In the study, you scanned the room quickly before spotting the drawer she mentioned. With eager hands, you pulled it open and found a small, elegant box sitting right on top. The rich, deep velvet of the box alone made your heart race.

You gasped softly, fingers trembling slightly as you lifted it from the drawer. It felt heavier than you expected, the weight somehow adding to the anticipation. Holding your breath, you carefully opened it, and there it was—the engagement ring.

The soft light from the study window caught the diamond, sending a brilliant array of colors dancing across the room. The intricate rose-gold band gleamed, and the tiny sapphires flanking the center stone shimmered like they held a secret of their own.

For a long moment, you were stunned. Your lips parted slightly in disbelief as your heart pounded in your chest. It wasn’t just a ring; it was the ring.

You turned back toward the kitchen, holding the open box in your hand. “Is this…?” you began, but the words trailed off as your eyes met Sae’s mother.

Her expression mirrored your shock—wide-eyed and horrified. Her hands flew to her mouth, her face flushing with the realization of what had just happened.

“Oh no…” you both said in unison, the words hanging in the air like a shared confession.

Sae’s mother shook her head frantically. “I—I didn’t know! He didn’t tell me what it was!” she stammered, clearly panicking.

You let out a nervous laugh, holding up the box. “This is what he got for me?” you asked, voice tinged with disbelief and amusement.

She nodded, still looking mortified. “I think I just ruined everything.”

And that’s how the proposal venue shifted from a dreamy garden setting to the family kitchen.

When Sae came home later that evening, the scene awaiting him was… not what he had envisioned. 

You and his mother were seated at the kitchen table, both looking unusually guilty, like two kids caught raiding the cookie jar.

His mother was the first to react, rushing to him with the velvet box in hand, her words tumbling out in a flurry of apologies. "Sae, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know—I didn’t think she’d actually open it!"

He blinked, then sighed. Well, so much for surprises.

His gaze shifted to you. There you were, cheeks glowing with embarrassment. He could tell you were trying to act innocent, but the slight twitch of your lips gave you away.

He set the box down on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something. Then, with a resigned sort of determination, he grabbed the box and turned to you.

“Oh well,” he said with a shrug, his tone deadpan but his eyes soft. “You already know, so I might as well do this now.”

Before you could process what was happening, Sae was down on one knee in the middle of the kitchen, holding the ring up toward you.

“You will marry me,” he said matter-of-factly, already taking your hand. “You don’t have a choice.” He slid the ring onto your finger with the same no-nonsense precision he used in every part of his life.

The sheer audacity of his approach made you burst into laughter. “You’re lucky I wasn’t going to say no even if you did ask properly,” you teased, your smile widening as you admired the ring.

His mother, standing nearby, had already pulled out her phone and was filming the entire thing, tearing up at the unexpected sweetness of the moment.

As Sae stood, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close. Your voice was soft, laced with both joy and disbelief. “So, this is it,” you murmured, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

He gazed down at you, his hands settling gently on your waist, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. His lips curled into the smallest of smiles, but his eyes were filled with so much love it took your breath away. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a warmth that wrapped around your heart. “This is it.”

Sae’s expression shifted slightly, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. “I had it all planned out, you know? You would’ve loved it—the garden, the lights, the fireworks. It was going to be perfect.” He gave a small, sheepish smile, but his gaze never left yours.

You reached up, cupping his face gently in your hands. “Sae,” you whispered, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “I’d take anything as long as it’s with you.”

The engagement was sealed right there—not in the garden surrounded by flowers and fairy lights, but in the cozy kitchen, filled with the lingering aroma of coffee and laughter, and a witness armed with a smartphone. 

Though it wasn’t the grand, meticulously planned proposal Sae had envisioned, as he looked into your eyes, he realized something important. The sparkle of the ring on your finger paled in comparison to the glow of your smile, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

The garden, with its fairy lights and fireworks, would now be the backdrop for your engagement party—the perfect imperfection of life’s unexpected moments. 

And as you leaned up to kiss him, Sae couldn’t help but think that this, right here, was better than perfect.

—

a/n: I am indeed a victim of the Sae brainrot

[judesmoonbeauty]

𝕁𝕦𝕕𝕖 𝕁𝕒𝕫𝕫𝕒'𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪: ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟞 - ℍ𝕚𝕤 𝕊𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

Both chapters 6 & 7 discuss snippets of Jude's past records. If you'd like to read the event in full, then please check out my collab translation here.

It’s a member-based club where upper-class woman gather every night.

When I went undercover, I found out it was nothing more than social club where “Gentlemen” waited upon women.

In order to obtain the title deed to some land, I played an absurd game, but the game ended at the last minute…..

Kate: Haa, Haa…..Wh-what about Ellis?

Jude: Don’t worry, he’ll make it out easy.

I ran out of the mansion with Kate, breathing heavily as I stood next to her in a nearby garden.

(Whatta farce. How pointless.)

Kate: But is that all right, you missed your chance to claim the land deed...

Jude: Pretty sure that noble lady’s in the habit of cheatin’ ‘n other things.

“You’re fooling around with young men again!”

By the comment made by the husband who had burst in, it’s clear that woman is a repeat adulteress.

Jude: Got loads t’shake her down with, I’ll just take it later on.

Kate: I see. What can I say, that’s cunning of you….Heh, hehe….

Jude: Ha, what? Yer laughin’ outta the blue’s creepin’ me out.

Kate: I mean, I never expected my first Crown mission in a while to end like this.

Kate: Plus….Pff…..Jude your fake personality’s something you’d see in a dream!

My eyes were drawn to Kate as her shoulders shook and she contained her laughter with the back of her hand.

(That’s the first time seein’ such defenseless laugh.)

When I picture the expressions of the woman called Kate, an angry face or a confused face comes to mind…..

(Yeah. There hasn’t been a situation where I’ve seen this girl laugh since we met.)

(……Regardless.)

Jude: Huh…..so ya can laugh like that?

Kate blinked several times and looked away bashfully.

Kate: That’s because you’re usually saying things that make me angry, Jude.

Jude: ‘Cause ya ain’t a bit hateful it’s cute.

Kate: C-Cute….?

Kate’s cheek turn a pale crimson, like they had caught fire.

(The hell’s that innocent reaction?)

Jude: Ha, so foolish. Yer a damned fool if yer pleased with that rubbish.

Kate is a woman who’s terrible at giving up, stubborn, and lives by following her heart.

(That’s why)

You’ve stepped too far into darkness.

Jude: Ya got flowers for brains, so time to stop goin’ to places like that.

Jude: You’ll end up losin’ everythin��, lookin’ all kinds of pitiful ‘n humiliated.

Kate: Thanks for the advice, but don’t worry, I won’t be going back!

(Oh, really?)

Kate said self-satisfied, then tilted her head asking herself a question.

Kate: Anyway, the club turned up clean, so Crown doesn’t need to condemn it, right?

Jude: Yeah it’ll be left alone, whether that stupid place’s ‘round or not, it ain’t for better or worse.

It’s rare for a mission to end in such carefree manner.

(This world’s overflowin’ with revoltin’ things…..)

[Flashback]

Jude: ….Argghh, why’s this happenin’ to me?

Jude: I…..hate this, I….resent this, This is….pathetic.

Jude: Even if I regret it….it’s too late.

Jude: Haha…….really….

Jude: …..It’s funny how miserable I am….

[Flashback ends]

Jude: ‘Sides….it’s better than buyin’ ’n playin’ with women for their bodies, innit?

Although the words I grumbled probably didn’t reach Kate.

I changed the subject before my shitty past that I don’t even want to remember is touched.

Jude: Oh, forgot to ask ya somethin’ important.

Kate: Something important? What is it?

Jude: Which one was the lady gonna choose in the end?

Kate: That’s….

I don’t care about this girl’s feelings or anything.

“Gentleman” - It’s just losing to a weak man who’s kept by a woman is nauseating.

That’s all it is.

(…..Ha, what’s that look?)

Kate’s eyes darted around like an idiot.

The look on her face told me exactly who she was going to choose.

(Ya shouldn’t be in a place like this after all.)

The darkness is unsuitable for a woman who can’t even conceal her emotions.

Jude: Woman’s so easy t’read it ain’t even funny.

Kate: I haven’t told you the answer yet!

Jude: Yeah, yeah, foolish ‘n cuuute. I’m goin’ home.

As I started walking, the pitter-patter of Kate’s footsteps trailed behind me.

The “fairytale keeper’s” unjust contract was to be for one month.

(…..Get out of this darkness quick, princess.)

(And then forget all ‘bout it.)

Although, I feel like it would be boring,

If I no longer hear the sound of desperate footsteps chasing me.

[Main Story Master List] [Chapter 7]

T/L: "That's all it is." Sure it is bruh. She's already infected you.

Dividers: @.natimiles

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[duachai]

DE.VIL - BANG CHAN | STRAY KIDS

A fashion designer under a mafia contract is Chan's one and only toy to play with.

Here, baby, take a sip, take a sip. Take a sip, take a sip, lick your lips, lick your lips

♱ PAIRING : BANG CHAN X MALE READER ♱ CONTENT WARNING : This writing contains explicit sexual content and mature themes. ♱ AUTHOR'S NOTE : This was supposed to be for Halloween, but I left it in my notion and then forgot about it. So... then I got carried away... turned it into smut... and then with railway and... well.... it's Chan. ♱ REQUESTED : YES (ANON) LINKS : Wattpad

Lollipops were M/n's stress relievers. His mother, wise to his anxieties, had given him the habit of carrying one at all times. In the face of conflict, the sugary treat became a calming ritual, helping him navigate the tension. 

The urge to pop a lollipop for comfort was eating him alive. However, he knew a childish indulgence wouldn't sit well with the wealthy client scrutinizing his latest masterpiece, or what he thought was one. 

"Is this it?" the client scoffed, slumping back in his chair. "This just looks like a bunch of draped fabric. And it's way too feminine for what I instructed you to. Listen, I respect your achievements, and you can do whatever you please, but this is a complete miss for me. Try again.” 

M/n clenched his jaw, the fingers of his right hand twitching to reach for his hidden stash of lollipops. This was the opposite of S-Class Styles’s brand. His brand thrived on pushing boundaries, not churning out these uninspired black-and-white suits. He craved the opportunity to inject some signature edge, a touch of that S-Class shock factor, to weave a story into the fabric itself. 

S-Class Styles was a front for a darker business, but as the specific gentleman who bought out the place, they offered M/n a secure job to do whatever he pleased, but still he got walked all over. 

And frankly, this was M/n’s fifth project for this man. Could he not catch the hint? 

“Alright, Mr. Jung. I’m sorry this doesn’t fit your… criteria. I’ll work on getting a better version for you.” M/n swallowed his pride, putting on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He kept it moving, something he continued to do through the last six clients until the end of the day. 

The shop lights flickered off one by one, signaling the end of another grueling shift. M/n gathered his belongings and shuffled out, ready to escape the suffocating pressure of client demands. 

As he stepped into the lobby, he was greeted by a figure that instantly made his pulse quicken. Chan, the mafia leader who had an iron grip on the city, was lounging casually on a velvet chair, waiting for him. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, studying M/n with an intensity that left no room for distractions. 

“Bad day?” Chan’s voice was smooth, his presence undeniably commanding. He rose slowly, the tension in his muscles barely contained beneath his perfectly tailored suit, one that M/n made himself. The air around him seemed to shift, and M/n's breath hitched despite himself. 

"All the same," M/n replied, trying to mask the sudden heat crawling up his neck. 

“Mm,” Chan hummed thoughtfully, stepping closer with a predatory grace. He reached up, his thumb grazing M/n’s jawline, a movement that was as casual as it was intimate. "That look on your face tells me something’s eating at you. I don’t like it." 

M/n swallowed, his heart hammering in his chest. "It’s nothing. Just business, you know?" 

Chan’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. “Doesn’t seem like nothing. Why don’t you let me take care of it?” M/n was Chan’s personal... liaison. Chan took care of him and his shop, and M/n took care of anything Chan needed work wise and personally. 

Before M/n could protest, Chan’s hands were at his waist, pulling him into a firm embrace. The sudden closeness was overwhelming and M/n could feel the heat radiating from Chan’s body, and his breath caught in his throat. Bang Chan leaned in, his lips brushing just below M/n’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“You’ve been carrying all that stress around,” Bang Chan whispered, his voice rough and low. "Is there someone bothering you? Let me handle it." 

M/n’s mind raced, but his body betrayed him. He wanted to push away, to retreat, but the pull of Chan was magnetic. He leaned into the kiss, their lips crashing together in a searing kiss. The taste of mint and danger mixed as their tongues tangled in a heated rhythm, all pretense vanishing in an instant. 

“There’s no one,” M/n whispered between the kiss. Chan’s hands moved down to M/n’s hips, pulling him closer, if that was even possible. The space between them vanished as M/n’s lower back pressed against the nearest desk with his sewing machine on it. The sharpness of the suit’s fabric dug into his skin, but it only heightened the fire burning inside him. 

Chan broke the kiss briefly, his lips brushing M/n’s neck as he trailed kisses along his skin. “Are you being honest with me, doll?” he murmured against his collarbone, voice laden with desire. 

M/n’s breath faltered, his hands reaching up, desperate to touch, to claim. The tension, the stress, everything melted under Bang Chan’s touch, and he knew, deep down, there was no turning back now. 

“Answer me,” Chan murmured, his voice dropping to a near growl, “Is there a problem I have to deal with?” His dark eyes searched M/n’s face intently looking for any sign he was hiding something. 

M/n took a breath, pushing Chan back a little as he dropping his head as he sighed. “There’s nothing, I don’t understand why you get so worked up.” Chan’s expression turned as he slightly rolled his eyes, his brows furrowing as he looked down at M/n with a mix of frustration and concern. He reached up, his thumb brushing over M/n’s jawline as he tried to coax him to look up. 

“Your shop looks a reck. Someone came here causing trouble. What I don't understand is why you keep protecting them.” He said sternly, M/n adverting his eyes completely. “When are you going to stop covering for people who clearly don’t give a fuck about you and what you’re doing?” M/n’s shoulders drop and his lips form into a pout. “One of these days, I’m not going to be here to protect you, M/n.” 

“Just stop with your gangster bullshit, Chan.” M/n said, pushing off from leaning on the desk as he grabbed his coat, “I can’t deal with another lecture. I’m going home.” 

Chan’s eyes flashed with a little bit of concern, he bit his anger back as he watched M/n walk away. He knew better than to push too hard, not when he already knew M/n was one for an attitude. With another sigh, he reached back and caught M/n’s arm pulling him back in  front of him, “Stop.” 

“I’m just trying to fucking help,” Chan said, his voice low and dripping with tense as he looked at M/n with slight puppy eyes. “You can’t keep letting people walk all over you, doll. I know you and I know one day you’re going to snap and it’s gonna to be a mess so I’m telling you here right now don’t do that. You’re my cover, so don’t blow it.” 

“I’m sorry, I can do better.” M/n said his lips pushing out. Chan’s expression softened as he pressed his forehead to M/n’s, his hands back at his hips. He became mushy, and folded under M/’s pout, one he could just kiss over and over. 

M/n drew in a gentle breath as Chan nuzzled his face into his neck, placing peppered kisses on the area as he inhaled the scent of cinnamon on M/n’s skin. “You always make it so hard to stay mad at  you,” He murmured, his hands roaming lower. He hooked his fingers under M/n’s waistband, tugging gently. 

“Chan...don’t-” 

Too late. Chan cut M/n off as he lifted the male on top of the desk, stepping between his legs as they wrapped around his waist instinctively. Their lips connected again and M/n moaned in a sexy fit of protests before melting into Chan’s lust. 

Chan’s hands slowly move to M/n’s backside, untucking his dress shirt. His cold hands gently caressed his bare skin as he pressed soft, slow kisses along M/n’s jawline and neck. He unbuttoned M/n’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulder, admiring M/n’s upper body. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Chan cooed, his hand wrapping around M/n’s neck lightly as he tipped his head up to look him straight in the eyes. 

Chan gazed intensely into M/n’s eyes, his grip around M/n’s neck feather-light yet so possessive. “Can you service me tonight, doll?” He asked, Chan’s thumb brushing over his bottom lip before it slipped between his lips, his eyes dilating as through his eyelashes M/n looked up at him so seductive. Chan inhaled sharply as the feeling of M/n’s warm mouth. 

“Open wider.” He commanded. 

“Yes, daddy,” M/n obeyed as Chan guided M/n down onto his knees, keeping his hand on M/n’s cheek as he used his other hand to unbutton his pants. M/n watched with pouty lips glazed in his spit, practically drooling to get Chan back in his mouth. 

“Good boy, now suck.” Chan commanded, releasing his now-hard length from his undergarments, a small bead of moisture already forming at the tip. He pressed the head against M/n’s open mouth, his hand now tangled in M/n’s locks of wild black and white hair, slightly guiding his head forward. 

“Yes...” M/n said in almost a whine, his lounge darting out to lick the tip of Chan, gathering the salty love liquid before sucking gently on the head. Chan’s hand in his hair tightened further, his hips giving an involuntary jerk as M/n’s warm, wet, mouth enveloped him. 

“Fuck,” Chan hissed, his head tilting back slightly at the pleasure M/n brought him. He gently thrust his hips forward, watching himself slowly disappear into M/n’s mouth, “You take me so well, doll. Go deeper, baby.” 

“Mm,” M/n hummed against Chan, his free hand stuck between his underwear as he palmed him in the rhythm of his mouth. Chan tuned on even more, if possible, watching M/n’s pleasuring himself while sucking him off. He throbbed between those perfectly shaped lip. 

“Yes, baby, fuck... just like that, my sweet doll.” 

“F-Fuck, I’m gonna c-cum. Shit,” M/n whined. 

Chan smirked with a hum, those dimples pressing on his cheeks, keeping M/n’s mouth stuffed with his thick length as he found himself pressing his own release too, “Go, baby, go ahead. Do it together” He encouraged. 

“Oh... fuck!” M/n half screamed as he halted for a second his mouth work on Chan just to use his hand to work the same pace on both, only to cum ribbons of his liquds over himself. 

“Mm mm, you’re not done, baby, come take this,” Chan commanded before letting M/n leave him without release. He lead M/n’s mouth back to his dick and stroked himself a few times before completely letting his cum funnel into his mouth. “Such a good fucking boy..” Chan cooed between one like moan as he slowly pulled out of M/n’s mouth. 

As M/n swallowed, he used his thumb to wipe away the drips from his abused and beet-red lips with a sugary, sexy grin, “Look at you, my doll. There’s no way I won’t keep you from everyone else.” 

[woozinhos]

i forgot have i send this yet or not.

but wonwoo idol and reader idol (solo artist), she was performing and wonwoo got turned on mid performance, and when she's done she fuck her so hard still wearing her stage outfit

(i'm sorry about my terrible grammar, english is my second language HEHEHEHE)

Notes: im going to be redoing my tag list as I’m gonna start to commit and tag you all will make the form later :)

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

Smut below the cut

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

The lights dimmed and the crowd erupted into cheers as you finished your performance, your body glistening with sweat. You took a bow, waving to the audience before exiting the stage and heading backstage. Wonwoo was waiting for you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

"You were amazing out there," he said, his eyes raking over your body. You walked up to him, a smile on your face as you caught your breath. "Thank you," you replied, slightly out of breath from dancing. "Did you enjoy the show?" He pushed himself off the wall and walked closer to you, his gaze darkening as he got a better look at your outfit.

"Very much," he said, his voice low and husky. "Especially the outfit." He placed his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "You looked so sexy on stage, all those people watching you, but you're all mine." He pulled you closer to him, his body flush against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the heat radiating off of him.

"You're so possessive," you teased, knowing how much he hated it when others looked at you for too long. He growled softly, his grip on you tightening. "I have every right to be possessive when it comes to you," he said, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're mine to look at, mine to touch, mine to have."

"And that outfit isn't helping," he added, his breath hot against your skin. He began to nibble on your earlobe, his hands slowly moving up and down your body, tracing the curves of your outfit. You shivered at his touch, your body responding to him immediately. "You're driving me crazy," he whispered, his lips moving down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along the way.

“Let's get out of here," he said, his voice filled with urgency. He took your hand and led you towards his dressing room, not caring if anyone saw the two of you together. He pushed you inside and locked the door behind him, his eyes never leaving yours. He pressed you against the wall, caging you in with his body as he continued to attack your neck with kisses and bites. You let out a soft moan, tilting your head to give him better access. He smirked against your skin, loving the sounds you were making.

"You're so sensitive," he said, his hands moving down to your thighs, slowly lifting your skirt up. He looked down at your exposed thighs, his eyes darkening even more with lust."I want to rip this outfit off of you," he groaned, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. "But I want to see you wear it while I fuck you even more." He leaned in and bit down on your shoulder, his teeth leaving a mark.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," he promised, his hands moving to your ass and squeezing it roughly. You let out a gasp as he pushed your skirt and panties aside, leaving you completely exposed. He smirked at your reaction, his fingers tracing your bare skin. "You're already so wet for me," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. He slowly ran a finger up and down your slit, teasing you and making you squirm.

"You're practically dripping," he said again, his finger now circling your clit. "So needy, so desperate for my touch."

"Do you want my cock, princess?" he asked, his finger now applying more pressure to your clit. "Tell me how badly you want it."

"Please," you whimpered, your voice shaky. "I want it so bad. I need it. I need you to fill me up and ruin me." His eyes darkened with desire at your pleading tone, his finger still rubbing circles on your clit. "Such a good girl, begging for me like that," he said, his free hand moving up to grip your chin. "You're going to get exactly what you want." He grabs the mic pack and throws it aside, not caring where it lands.

Without warning, he thrusts into you, burying himself deep inside you. You cry out as he enters you, your back arching against the wall. He holds you in place, his grip on your chin and hip tight as he starts to move, setting a rough pace from the start. "Fuck," he groans, his eyes fixated on your face as he watches your expression twist in pleasure. "You feel so tight and perfect around me." He begins to thrust harder, each thrust hitting deeper and deeper inside you.

"You were made for me," he growls, his words sending shivers down your spine. "Your body was made to take my cock and no one else's."

"Yes, baby," you moan, your words almost incoherent from the pleasure. "I'm yours, only yours." He smiles devilishly, loving how obedient you're being. "Good girl," he praises, his thrusts becoming faster and more intense. "Keep saying it. I want to hear you admit that you belong to me over and over again." You repeat his words like a mantra, unable to think of anything else but the feeling of him claiming you.

"I belong to you," you say breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I'm your little plaything, your toy to use and control."

He throws his head back in pleasure, his hips snapping against yours with even more force. "That's right," he moans, his voice filled with dominance. "You're my toy, and I'm going to use you however I want." He can't stop looking at your body, admiring the way the outfit hugs your curves and accentuates your every move.

"I can't believe how good you look," he says, his eyes trailing over your chest, watching it bounce with each thrust. "I'm going to make sure this is the only thing you wear for me from now on."

"You're getting close, aren't you?" he says, his breath hot against your ear. He reaches down and starts rubbing your clit again, knowing exactly how to make you come undone. You moan loudly, your body tensing up as the pleasure builds up inside you.

"I can feel you clenching around me," he groans, his movements becoming sloppier as he nears his own climax. "You're going to cum on my cock, princess. I can feel it." You can barely speak now, your words coming out as gasps and moans. "Please, please let me cum," you beg, your nails scratching down his back. "I need to cum so badly, I can't hold it anymore." He smiles devilishly once again, satisfied with your begging.

"Cum for me then," he commands, his fingers continuing to work your clit in tight circles. "Let go and cum all over me." You let out a scream as you finally reach your climax, your body trembling with pleasure as you clench around him. He grunts as you cum, the feeling of you tightening around his cock pushing him over the edge as well. He moans loudly as he spills inside you, his hips stuttering as he rides out his orgasm. He leans his forehead against yours, panting heavily as he catches his breath.

He slowly pulls out of you, a mixture of his cum and your juices dripping down your thighs. He gently kisses your forehead before picking you up and carrying you over to the nearest couch. He looks down at the mess on your thighs, a smirk forming on his face. "Look at the mess you made," he teases, his hand trailing up your leg. "You made such a big mess, and you're going to have to clean it up." Mingyu's loud banging on the door interrupts the moment, startling both you and him.

He sighs, annoyed by the interruption.

"Damn it," he mutters under his breath. "I guess I have to go." "Hurry up!" Mingyu shouts again, his voice even louder than before. "You're taking too long, and Wonwoo's about to go on!" You laugh at Mingyu's impatience, and he chuckles along with you.

"Looks like our fun is cut short," he says, setting you down on the couch. "But I'll definitely be finishing this later." He kisses you slowly, savoring the taste of your lips against his. He holds your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. He pulls away from the kiss reluctantly, a soft smile on his face.

"Bye, princess," he says, looking at you one last time before turning to leave. "I'll see you after the performance."

[peachway]

✦ chapter one : Lossless

series masterlist

word count - 3.3k

A/N - oops i'm little bit late for publishing sorry hehe. alsoo i forgot to mention, this story takes place in the 2024 season! happy reading ✨

Third person's POV -

The roar of the ferrari engine echoed through the Miami air as Charles steered his car into the bustling F1 paddock. Adrenaline high in him, a familiar pre-race feeling. Beside him, were you his ever-present support, smiled brightly, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

The paddock was a hive of chaos: mechanics preparing the cars, the engineers engaged in intense discussions, and a sea of photographers jostling for the perfect shot. Charles, ever the professional, flashed his signature smile for the cameras as they navigated the throng.

"They're going crazy for you, as always," you commented, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Charles chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. "Me? I think they're more interested in someone else."

He glanced at the photographers, instead of capturing him, their lenses were focused on you, their cameras clicking furiously. That caught you off guard, you blushed slightly, and gave a shy smile to the camera.

One of the photographers, with a mischievous glint in his eyes said, "Never seen a more stunning grid girl"

As the cameras were still clicking away. Charles, watching the scene, couldn't help but grin.

He stepped closer to you, his arm brushing against yours. "Seems like I've got some competition for the spotlight today," he teased, his eyes twinkling.

You playfully nudged him. "Very funny, Charles. Now let's go find a quiet corner before I succumb to embarrassment."

After giving a brief smile to the media, you both fled towards the Ferrari hospitality.

"Hey wait for me!" a voice called out. Turning, you encountered Carlos.

"Oh, Carlitos. Hi," you greeted him with a smile.

"Someone stole the spotlight today, huh?" he teased.

"Shut up!" you retorted, nudging him playfully.

"Oh before I forget, Good luck!" you wished as you stepped into the Ferrari building.

"Thank you, pequeña!" he replied, his smile wide. "You're wearing blue, so we have our lady luck."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "It's just a coincidence, Carlos."

"No, really! We have our best races when you wear blue. You just don't want to see us do well, do you?" he teased.

You shook your head, still smiling. "Whatever you say, Carlos. I hope you both have a good qualifying."

Miami, the Magic city of sunshine was ablaze with a different kind of heat – the kind that only the pinacle of motorsports could ignite. The track, a shimmering ribbon of asphalt snaking through the Rock Hard Stadium, never looked so beautiful.

The garages were full of frenetic activity and the absolute chaos of pit crews preparing for the FP3 and Qualifying.

Later that day after the FP3 it was finally time for Quali. Inside the garage, the atmosphere was electric. The tension in the garage was obvious as qualifying began. You watched the monitors intently, your heart pounding in your chest with every second. Lap after lap, the drivers pushed the cars to their limit.

As the final seconds ticked away, the positions locked in. A collective cheer erupted from the Ferrari garage. Max Verstappen was on provisional pole with Charles in second place and Carlos right behind him in third!

After the qualifying interview they both went back at the Team hospitality. You rushed over to congratulate them as they reached. Charles, very happy grinned widely. "P2! Not bad, eh?"

"Not bad at all," you replied "Excellent job, Charles."

Carlos, equally elated, threw an arm around your shoulder. "See? I told you! Blue is our lucky colour Peach!" he exclaimed, winking at you.

Peach was the nickname Charles used to call you and now almost everyone in the paddock calls you Peach.

You laughed, shaking your head. "It was your driving, Carlos, not my dress."

"A little bit of both," he grinned.

Second and third on the grid was a good result, setting the stage for an exciting race day. Tomorrow would be the real test, but for now, the team have lots of strategies to plan.

Later, as you enjoyed a much-needed caffeine fix, Carlos joined you, a cappuccino in hand. "Hey, so what are you doing tomorrow night?" he asked.

"Nothing, I guess. Why?" you replied.

"It's Miami, baby. We're going out. And if there's a podium, it's a double celebration. You should come."

"Ha! That's a joke, right?" you asked, surprised. Carlos simply stared at you. "Me?"

"You're my friend, too. We can hang out outside the paddock, no?"

"It's not like that... you know I don't usually go out like this."

"That's why I'm asking you. It'll be fun. Come on, I'll talk to him for you," he offered.

"He'll say no," you shook your head.

"Do you want to come?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

"Yes, but Cha—" Before you could finish, Carlos marched off towards the drivers' room, you trailing behind him. Charles was inside, engaged in his phone.

"Hey, Charles," Carlos called.

"Oh, hey man! All good?" Charles greeted him with a smile.

"Yeah, listen," Carlos began, turning to you and gesturing, "I was just telling her we're going out tomorrow night after the race, win or lose, and I think she should come."

Charles's gaze shifted to you, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

"Going out?" Charles repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you know, celebrate, unwind. It's Miami. We gotta do it right, we'll come back early i know we're meant to fly later." Carlos explained.

"Sure. Why not." Charles looked back at you, a question in his eyes. "but Peach?"

You hesitated, glancing between the two drivers. "I... I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Intrude? Don't be ridiculous," Carlos scoffed. "It'll be fun. Come on, you'll love it there."

"I... I don't know, Carlos" Charles said.

"It's just a party.." Carlos said.

"She can stay at the hotel." Charles said.

'Charles come on man, you don't trust me?' he said.

"It's not about you Carlos." Charles remained firm. "I won't risk her safety like that." You knew he was right, but the allure of the night, and the promise of a carefree evening, was a powerful temptation.

The air in the motorhome was thick with tension. Amidst the race preparations, the three figures stood locked in a silent, simmering argument.

"You can't seriously be considering this?" Charles growled, his voice low with anger. His eyes with the usual gentleness replaced by a fierce intensity.

Your face flushed with anger to his question. "Why not? It's just for one night..."

"And to expose you to danger?," Charles spat, "Parties and stuff, those aren't for you." he said slowly as the driver's room wall was thin.

"And who decides that?" you retorted, your voice rising. "You? Because you're trying protect me?"

Charles flinched, the accusation striking a raw nerve. He'd always been hyper-aware of the gulf between his world and yours, a world of mafia and racketing pursuits, a world far removed from the drama of Formula 1.

"Don't be like this come on," he said, his voice softening. "This is messy. It's dangerous. You know about the code. I've always cared about you. I— " He paused, searching for the right words. "Carlos, you knew she can't come still you asked her? and you, Don't think i'm some kind of toxic boyfriend villain who's stopping you from going to a party. This is far more serious."

"I'm not a child, Charles," you said, your voice trembling with frustration. "I can handle myself. I can make my own decisions."

Charles reached out, his hand hovering near yours, then retreating. "I know you can," he admitted, his voice rough. "But I... I don't want to see you hurt. You're not going, the topic is closed."

You looked at him, her anger fading, replaced by a wave of unexpected tenderness. "You worry about me too much," you said softly.

Charles shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "It's my job," he replied.

You smiled, a small, sad smile. "You know," you said, "you're very stubborn."

Charles finally met your eyes, a flicker of amusement in his emerald depths. "Says the girl who refuses to back down from a pointless argument."

The gazes locked, a silent battle waged between conflicting emotions.

"The hotel is quite comfortable, with a library, a pleasant café, and a spa. You're welcome to explore the facilities," Charles stated.

"Thank you," you replied, the word laced with a bitterness you couldn't quite conceal, before turning and walking quickly away.

Charles watched you go, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He turned to his friend, Carlos, who had witnessed everything. "I'm sorry, Carlos."

"Don't worry about it, mate," Carlos replied, clapping him on the shoulder. "But i'm worried about her. She's suffocating."

"I know she is," Charles admitted, nodding slowly.

Just then, Gisèle, Charles's girlfriend, arrived, she had reached the paddock a little late. Her presence immediately filling the space with a different kind of energy. "Hi!" she chirped, a bright smile on her face.

"Hello, chérie," Charles replied, leaning down to kiss her lips.

"What was that about?" Gisèle asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced in the direction you had disappeared. Charles then explained the conversation that took place earlier.

"Really?," Gisèle scoffed. "Let her go then. She'll learn it the hard way."

"Gisèle, please," Charles cautioned.

"She's so ungrateful for everything you've done for her. She wouldn't be here if it weren't for you," Gisèle continued, her voice rising.

"No it's complicated Gee," Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's being a little stubborn today."

"a little?" Gisèle scoffed. "She's a spoiled brat. Living off your generosity, enjoying the perks of your life, and now she wants to go clubbing with your friends? Ridiculous."

"She's not a spoiled brat," Charles defended, though his voice lacked conviction.

"Right. That's why she's living in one of your apartments," Gisèle countered, her words laced with sarcasm.

"She's just... different. From us." he defends.

"Different how? Because she's from a different world?" Gisèle sneered. "A world of crime, of shady deals? Let's be honest, Charles, she's not exactly the kind of woman you should be associating with."

Charles opened his mouth to protest, but the words caught in his throat. Gisèle had a point. Your world was a dangerous one, a world he barely understood. A world he wanted to keep you away from.

"I know that...that she doesn't exactly have a good influence." he admitted, his voice low.

"If something goes wrong, her men will point a gun to you Charles." she said.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the already chaotic scene before you. You had come back to apologise to Charles but instead you overheard this exchange. It shattered you. Does he really think of you that way? Your blood ran cold as you heard Charles agree with Gisèle. You needed escape, a momentary release from the constant vigilance. So you ran away from there.

"Ungrateful" you muttered, your voice trembling with anger. "Spoiled brat?"

You had always known that your world was different from theirs, that you didn't belong in their glamorous, high-flying world. But you've been a part of Charles's life since eight years and it's now he thinks you're someone with he can't be associated with?

Charles turned sharply towards Gisèle, his expression a mixture of anger and disappointment. "You have no idea what she's been through. You have no right to speak about her like that."

"But it's true," Gisèle protested, though her voice wavered slightly under his intense gaze. "You don't see her like a sister, nor like a girlfriend..who is she actually to you?"

"That's enough," Charles interrupted, his voice firm. "My race is tomorrow. Stop this shit." He warned.

Charles Leclerc, the Ferrari's precious son, was your brother's childhood best friend. To keep you safe from your father and his enemies your brother used to send you with Charles to attend races.The mafia men would come after you only if they knew what you looked like right? But the danger still loomed over. You can never be sure in this shadow world. Most of the year you used to travel all around the world with Charles - away from home. Sometimes in off months you'd stay in Monaco at his other apartment.

Automatically you had become very close to him as you were with him since 8 years. Through him, you had entered the glamorous world of Grand Prix racing, becoming an almost mythical figure in the F1 paddock as the "Ferrari princess." Because you've been with Charles in every race since he joined Ferrari.

Your world revolved around Charles, around the Ferrari family and around the escape they provided.

His unwavering concern, born from years of shielding you from the dangers that lurked in the shadows of her life, was a testament to your unbreakable bond. Yet, sometimes it felt suffocating, a gilded cage that imprisoned your spirit. Everything was just so overwhelming and you just wanted to be alone for a few moments.

In the haste, you collided with a towering figure, the impact jolting you. "Whoa, hey, hello there!" a deep voice boomed, a gentle hand steadying you.

"I-I am so sorry, Mr. Verstappen," you stammered, wiping away the tears that had escaped.

The blue-eyed Dutchman looked down at you with a gentleness. "Is everything okay? Are you alright?" he asked, his gaze filled with concern.

You nodded mutely, unable to articulate the turmoil within. Before you could offer any explanation, you turned and fled towards the private paddock club suit, the encounter leaving you breathless and bewildered.

Max just stood there in confusion.

'Was that...Peach?' Lando's voice, a mixture of disbelief and amusement, broke the silence.

Max nodded dumbly. 'She can talk?' he chuckled, 'She never talks to anyone. What's up with her?'

"Pffft, no idea," Max replied, "but she looked...upset. Really upset. And she was alone."

"Huh. Strange," Lando mused. "Do you think she has a boyfriend?"

Max furrowed his eyebrows, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"What are you idiots yapping about?" Daniel's voice cut through.

"Oh, nothing," Max replied, with a playful smirk "Lando was just telling me about his undying affection for Peach."

"Peach?? Wow, I can talk to Charles if you want! I'm sure he'd be thrilled to hear about Lando's 'affection'." Daniel offered, his voice dripping with mock horror.

"Thank you, but I love my life. I don't want to get murdered!" Lando retorted.

The humidity of the previous night dawned to the crisp air next morning and the first rays of sunlight fell down on Miami. The whole day was almost gone in swift of time and finally the sunday began at 4:00.

The race unfolded as the five lights above turned red. It was going quite normally for some time then it took a swift turn. Max, who dominated until lap 23, was forced into an unexpected pit stop after damaging his front wing. Lando capitalized, surging up the leaderboard. And Max, who everybody thought will take the lead but his recovery was hampered when Logan Sargent's crash brought out the safety car which solidified Lando's lead more. Despite the expectation that Max or Charles would close the gap, Lando maintained a seven-second advantage and he held on against all odds. As the checkered flag fell, a wave of happiness washed over the paddock. Lando Norris had achieved his maiden Formula 1 victory, the moment was celebrated by the entire paddock. Max secured second place, while Charles, despite a valiant effort, finished third.

Gisèle, didn't wanted to come there so you went alone to the front with the Ferrari team as the boys parked their cars in their respective positions.

As Max greeted his team, his gaze fell upon you, standing patiently beside the Ferrari entourage, waiting for Charles. For the first time, he truly saw you. Not as the "Ferrari princess," or enigmatic figure who flitted through the paddock like a ghost but as a young woman, vulnerable and alone despite having everyone.

And for the first time, you looked at him too, a shy smile gracing your lips, a flicker of recognition in your eyes. Maybe because you had bumped into him yesterday. The encounter, brief and unexpected, had shattered the invisible barrier that had existed between you two, leaving Max with a lingering sense of curiosity and a newfound appreciation for you.

He didn't know exactly what was in his mind when he walked towards you. He found himself drawn to you, his feet moving almost of their own accord. But he stopped abruptly, a moment of hesitation flickering across his face. Was this appropriate? Should he approach? You noticed his movement, your smile widening slightly as you mouthed a silent "Congratulations." His eyes crinkled at the corners, a silent smile in return.

Just then, Charles approached from behind, pulling your attention away. Max, as if startled back to himself, turned and walked towards his own team, the unspoken moment hanging in the air.

That night, while Miami reverberated with celebratory fervor, you found yourself drawn to the hotel window, the city's vibrant nightlife a distant hum. Seeking refuge from the turmoil within, you decided to go to the hotel library, hoping the hushed atmosphere would offer a semblance of peace. But focus proved elusive. Charles's words replayed in your mind.

However, you couldn’t help but think about someone else. Max. The image of him lingered, a stark reminder of a world beyond the Ferrari bubble. A faint smile touched your lips.

Alongside Charles, Max occupied a prominent space in your life, albeit on the opposing side of the racing divide. In your seven within the Formula 1 paddock, you had never interacted with him. He represented the rival, the embodiment of the relentless drive for victory that had defined your seven years in the paddock. You admired him as a driver; his talent was undeniable, his skill exceptional. But it didn't matter, you were there so you could be safe. But somehow you couldn't dispel the thoughts of Max Verstappen.

After taking dinner you headed back to your room to catch some sleep. Upon reaching the lobby, you encountered the very man who had occupied your thoughts.

"Hey, I know you," he says.

"Mr. Verstappen," you replied with a polite smile.

"Ugh," he grimaced. "It's Max, Liefje. M-A-X."

"I—"

"Max!" he corrected again, his words slightly slurred.

"Max," you said. "You're drunk. You should go to your room."

"Verstappen." a cold voice cut through the air. Charles. He stood a few feet away, his eyes fixed on Max.

Max's gaze shifted to Charles, a flicker of recognition, or perhaps simply drunken focus, in his eyes. "Leclerc." he mumbled, the name thick on his tongue. "You're on the wrong floor," said Charles.

Max blinked, seemingly unfazed by Charles's icy demeanor. "Am I?" He glanced around the lobby noticing his surroundings. "Huh. Guess I am." He said and turned his attention back to you. "Anyway," he slurred slightly, "it was nice finally... officially... meeting you. You're very cute." He offered a lopsided grin before turning and stumbling towards the elevator.

Charles quickly comes over to you, his expression unreadable. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," you replied quietly, "He... he was just drunk."

"Clearly," Charles said dryly. He paused, his gaze searching your face. "Did he say anything else to you? and why were you talking to him out of all people?"

"I wasn't," you protested softly. "He approached me."

Charles's jaw tightened, "Alright anyways, I don't want you talking to him. Or anyone from Red Bull. Do you understand?"

You met his gaze, a flicker of defiance rising within you. "Charles—"

"It's for your own good," he interrupted, his voice softening slightly, though his eyes remained hard. "He's a manipulative bastard."

You sighed, the familiar weight of his protectiveness settling upon you. With a quiet nod, you agreed and went back to your room.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Imagine Yandere Sonic with a reader who’s very motherly towards Tails :3 because even though he’s a Yandere that’s still his little guy !! He raised him !! And now his love wants to help !!

A/n: this took a while

Yandere sonic x reader motherly towards tails

You didn’t expect to find yourself so attached to a little fox with two tails, but Miles (tails as Sonic and pretty much everyone else called him) had wormed his way into your heart.

From the moment you met him, you saw the brilliant kid who was so eager to impress his older brother. Sonic had told you plenty about Tails, practically beaming whenever he talked about the little fox’s inventions or plans that saved the whole team numerous times. Seeing Sonic so proud of someone was endearing, but meeting Tails for yourself had sealed the deal.

Tails was a sweetheart, and you adored him almost immediately.

The first time you saw him, he had been tinkering with one of his many gadgets in his workshop. His fur was messy, and he had goggles that sat crooked on his head.

"You're Tails, right?" you had asked, kneeling down to his height. "Sonic’s told me so much about you."

His ears perked up. "What'd he say?"

"He said you’re the smartest, most resourceful guy he knows. I mean, I’m looking at all this" you gestured to the various gadgets scattered around. "and I’m already impressed."

From that moment, you’d made it your mission to look out for him. Sure, Sonic was protective of Tails, but you couldn’t help wanting to mother the poor fox. He was still a kid, after all, and while he had Sonic to guide him, you felt that he needed someone to dote on him, to remind him to take breaks and eat properly when he got too caught up in his work.

Sonic noticed your attachment to Tails almost immediately, and it struck a chord deep within him.

You loved Tails.

His Tails.

Watching the two of you interact pulled on his heart strings.

In Sonic’s mind, this was perfect. You didn’t just care about him, you cared about the person he cared about most. It solidified the idea that you were meant to be part of his little "family." After all, you didn’t just love him, you loved both of them.

But that also came with complications.

While Sonic was thrilled that you cared for Tails, it also ignited a possessive streak in him that was hard to control. He had always been protective of Tails, almost to a fault, and seeing you step into that role stirred something in him.

On the surface, he was supportive, even encouraging you to spend time with Tails. But underneath, his obsession simmered.

What if Tails started to love you more than he loved Sonic? What if you started to love Tails more than you loved him?

The thought made him feel sick, and he hated himself for it. Tails was his little guy, he practically raised him, taught him everything he knew. But you were his, and sometimes, Sonic couldn’t shake the feeling that Tails was stealing bits and pieces of your attention that belonged to him.

Still, he kept those thoughts buried deep. For the most part, he let you mother Tails, but not without inserting himself at every opportunity.

One afternoon, you had brought Tails a basket of sandwiches and snacks, knowing he’d probably been up in his workshop for hours without eating. Sonic had tagged along, of course, watching from a distance as you fussed over the young fox.

"Tails, you’ve got to eat something," you said, placing the basket on the workbench. "You can’t run on fumes."

Tails looked up from his latest project, blinking in surprise. "Oh, I guess I forgot, my bad..."

You gave him a gentle smile and pushed the basket toward him. "That’s what I’m here for. Now, take a break, okay? Your inventions can wait a few minutes."

Sonic leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. His heart swelled at how caring you were, but there was a fleeting flicker of jealousy he couldn’t ignore.

When Tails finally relented and started eating, you ruffled his fur affectionately. "Good. See? Doesn't that feel better?"

Sonic's chest tightened. That should be me, he thought. I should be the one getting all their attention.

But instead of saying anything, he strolled into the workshop, putting on his usual confident grin.

"Hey, little buddy! Whatcha working on?" he asked, his tone light but his gaze flickering to you briefly.

Tails perked up. "Oh, trying to find a more efficient wnergy source for one of my planes!"

"Sweet! You’re gonna be flying circles around everyone." Sonic gave Tails a thumbs up, ruffling his head.

As the weeks went by, your bond with Tails only grew stronger, and so did Sonic’s obsession. He started orchestrating ways to keep you closer, using Tails as an excuse whenever he could.

"Hey, Tails is working on something dangerous. You should come keep an eye on him," hed say, even if Tails was just fixing something harmless.

Or, "Tails could use some help organizing his workshop. You’re so good at that stuff."

It wasn’t always subtle, but you didn’t question it. You were happy to help, and Sonic was happy to have you around.

Still, his possessiveness began to show in little ways. He would hover whenever you were with Tails, always inserting himself into conversations or finding excuses to touch you, a hand on your shoulder, an arm slung around your waist. If Tails noticed, he didn’t say anything, but you couldn’t ignore the way Sonic’s grip tightened whenever you paid more attention to Tails than to him.

One evening, after you had spent the entire day helping Tails with a new project, Sonic finally snapped.

"Y'know" he said casually as the two of you walked home "you're pretty good with Tails. Almost too good."

You raised an eyebrow, sensing the edge in his voice. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Sonic stopped walking and turned to face you, his usual playful demeanor replaced entirely.

"I mean, you spend a lot of time with him," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Not that I’m complaining, but... don’t forget about me, okay?"

You blinked, taken aback. "Sonic, I could never forget about you. You know that."

He stepped closer. "Do I? Sometimes it feels like you’re more interested in Tails than in me."

"That's not true," you said firmly. "I care about both of you."

"But you care about me more, right?"

"Right..?"

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

@sir-tater-of-the-tot Just for you!

-

Lucifer wasn't sure what was going on at the Heavens Embassy, whispers had been swirling around for a couple weeks now since the last extermination day. Rumors that the embassy has been taken over by a mass of new sinners that want into heaven.

Rumors of course...... But as King he had to find out if there was any truth. The problem was, anyone who got too close or went inside never came back. So they were likely killing all who entered.

He could take them and he would.

Lucifer opened a portal and went right down there. He was shocked to see the state that the embassy was in. The place still glowed its holy golden light from the heavens, but from every end of it was covered dripping equally golden honey, there were flowers now bloomed out front and spears with angelic spear heads pointing out as if to keep people away.

There were two bee looking sinners with spears guarding the front door, scowls on their faces yet also neutral looks at the same time. Lucifer could easily blast his way in but something told him to be discrete.

So he used another portal to get in and holy shit the honey! It was everywhere, either just dripping or in honeycombs or vats of it everywhere. Also many beautiful flowers. The sound of buzzing caught his attention and there were so many bees and wasps flying around doing so many things.

And they are all women. Weird.

Lucifer: The fuck is going on?

Then he saw it, the biggest Bee in the hive walked into view with her lovely curves, crown on her head and an egg in her grasp.

This must be their Queen.

Adam: Okay here, put this little one with the others to hatch.

Adam!?!

........

Oh this changes things.

Worker bee: For you my Queen.

She brought him some lovely flowers that smelled amazing.

Adam: Thank you my dear.

He took them giving them a deep smell, the fragrance was intoxicating and the pollen tickled his nose in the best way. The little worker bee seemed so happy to have her Queen accept her gift, she bowed and buzzed away happily.

Lucifer decided to make his presence known when Adam placed the flowers near his throne.

Lucifer: Adam?

The hive became silent and the bees turned towards the King of Hell, the Exorcist Bees brandished their spears and pointed them at him, the wasps extended their stingers ready for a fight and the worker bees held back to protect the eggs.

Adam: Lucifer? What a lovely surprise.~ It's okay ladies, for now anyway.

He walked towards Lucifer and the spears lowered a little.

Lucifer: What is all this?

Adam: My kingdom. And you know, I'm actually glad you're here. You can actually be of service to me.~

Before he could react, Adam picked him up and threw him into a nearby meeting room landing on the table, he ended up in some honey that was making him stick to the table.

Adam walked in and closed the door, a smirk on his face. He needed to grow his empire more and to do that he needed more little babies that lived longer than 6 weeks to 6 months.

Adam: Do you remember the promise you made me back in Eden, Luci? The one about us having a big family?

Adam pulled Lucifer's pants down to his ankles and smiled at how hard he already was.

Removing his own panties, Adam stepped out of them and crawled on-top of Lucifer, bringing out his second set of arms to keep the King in place.

Adam: Because I never forgot and it's time to make good on that promise.~

He lowered himself onto Lucifer's dick and moaned, fuck he felt good. Dick made for a Queen.

Lucifer gasped as the warm wet heat enveloped his cock.

Lucifer: I-I-I didn't forget, I just didn't think you'd want it anymore.

Adam: Of course I do. A King has to fertilize his Queen after all.~ And I AM the new Queen around here.

Adam leaned down and kissed him as he started to rock his hips, he pulled away when he really got into riding Lucifer.

The mating need was there and since no worthy males were around he's been having little bees asexually like a damn flower.

But not anymore, he's got the ultimate nectar now.

Adam rode him for hours, even after Lucifer had already cum a few times inside of him painting his walls white with his seed he wanted more, needed more.

It wasn't until he felt absolutely full and satisfied did he stop milking Lucifer for all he's worth.

Adam: Mmm, that was amazing.~

Lucifer, breathless: Yeah.~

Adam covered him up to give him some modesty just in case and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

Adam: Thanks for round one.~

Lucifer: R-round one?

Adam hummed: Mmmhmmm, I gotta go wait for these eggs to develop so I can lay them. I'll be back in a little bit. Thank you handsome.~

He walked out blowing Lucifer a kiss with a wink, he knew their babies were going to be strong and beautiful.

Lucifer rated his head on the table: You're welcome honey.

-

((That's all I got. Did I say something small? Lol))

[l0relaii]

reader riding josh’s face while she’s standing up………josh’s big hands holding on to her ass to prevent her from falling down

omg. that. is. so. hot

but let me add something. josh doing that while you talk to someone over a counter or window. ok ok let me elaborate

let's say you were planning the winter getaway to the lodge and decided to come with josh one day earlier to make sure everything is prepared

but over night it got so cold the locks froze and you didn't realize you were stuck inside until sam called you to tell you she got to the cable car

so you've tried the door.

locked.

you tried the key.

still locked?

"fuck- josh??"

"hm? what's wrong?"

"i think this thing is frozen"

"jesus fucking christ, again?"

he comes up behind you and tries to open the door, but he can't

"dammit.."

"sam called, said she made it to the cable car"

"well, i guess we'll have to use the deodorant again"

"i swear you're gonna burn this place down one day"

"let's hope today is not that day babe"

"haha, very funny josh"

he gives you a little wink as he goes into one of the bathrooms in search of a deodorant

you see him coming back with it searching for a lighter in his pocket while crouching down in front of the door

you shift your gaze towards the window where you can see two silhouettes appearing

you squint your eyes trying to make out who they are through the foggy window listening to the diy flamethrower

"josh, be careful with that thing"

"oh don't worry baby"

while you try to make out who the two people are you don't even hear the noise of the deodorant stopped, not until you see him, or rather feel him crouched between your legs

his hands come up to your pants dragging them down along with your underwear. you hiss at the cold air hitting your bare pussy and look down at him

"what the fuck josh? what's gotten into you? stop- there's someone out there"

"probably sam"

"no- there are two people, fuck-"

"who cares? they'll have to wait either way"

you feel his hands coming up to your ass dragging you towards his head while he starts trailing kisses up your thighs

chris and ash. fuck, they probably forgot to call. and sam is on her way too, great

"josh stop they're literally at the door-"

"the lock's frozen"

"no it's not, you literally just-"

oh. OH-

yeah the lock is frozen. they can wait outside until you're done, right?

his mouth is suddenly on your clit sucking and licking and kissing while you let out a breathy moan

you hear ashley calling out your name when she sees you looking at them through the window and you wave awkwardly

"open it"

"what-?"

"you heard me, open the window and talk to her, come on, tell her what happened"

fuck.

you reluctantly open the window and lean out towards them so they couldn't peek inside and see josh on his knees between your legs

"oh hey ash, chris, i'm so happy to see you made it"

"oh my god please let us in i thought we were gonna freeze out here"

"where's josh?"

"yeah, where is he? and why aren't you opening the damn door?"

"josh? ugh-"

you feel him digging his fingers into your ass cheeks while sucking harder on your clit. he really wants to get caught, huh?

"josh is, uh, looking for uh- deodorant"

"and he can't open the door without smelling like fresh flowers?"

"no, no- fuck.."

"is something wrong? are you okay?"

"oh yeah i'm fine just.. a little cold, i'm frozen -the door, shit- the lock is frozen, yeah that's right, and josh wants to use the lighter with the deodorant"

"ohh yeah, just like we did with the little army dudes"

the little fucker. he snuck a finger up your cunt while you were trying to explain to your dear friends that the lock is frozen

"oh hiii sam"

amazing

could this situation get any more worse?

"why are you out here? did josh lose the key again?"

oh. that would have been a better lie

"nah, the damn lock is frozen"

you feel it in your lower belly, your orgasm building up. josh feels it too, he can tell from the way your thighs are trembling and the way you're squeezing around his fingers

"hey.. are you.. okay?"

"me? yeah, yes why wouldn't i be?"

"you seem a bit.. shaken up"

you see chris trying to lean forward and look through the window but you put your hand on his shoulder and push him away a bit

"mmfuck.. i think i am a bit- nauseous, you might want to look away"

"do you want some water? ash get the water from my backpack-"

"no, jeez no, chris turn the fuck around or i swear to god i'm gonna- i'm gonna puke on you"

well that worked at least, they all turned around

exactly when your orgasm hits you and your hand shoots down to josh's head pushing him away

you see him wiping away at his mouth with a smirk and disheveled hair. he pulls up your panties and pants before walking to the door and opening it

"i thought the lock was frozen?"

"oh no bro, i guess i just got the wrong key in"

[ranx0]

Steve's liked cars since before he knew. He's just always liked them. He stared at the fancy ones people from across town drove, and he liked to admire the one his dad kept the the garage.

Ten years ago Steve Randle met Sodapop Curtis. Sodapop was six going on seven, and Steve was seven. The former was a loud outspoken kid with an average home life. Two loving parents and two brothers to keep him company. The latter wasn't so lucky, his parents were going through an ugly divorce and they didn't bother to make sure he was okay during any of it.

Steve, like any other little boy, craved attention. He knew Sodapop got attention, he knew it almost as soon as he became friends with the boy. He could tell from his jokes, his smile, the way he talked like everyone was listening, and his confidence that he was a boy everyone always noticed. Maybe that's why Steve stuck by him, copying his confident nature in a way that came off as cocky. Copying his loud volume in a way that made him annoying to most.

Soda figured that Steve liked cars one day a few months after they had just met. Steve always had a small toy car from home stuffed in his backpack hidden away from his parents in case they decided he was in trouble for the day. He had it out during recess, which immediately caught Soda's eyes. It was old and beaten up, but he could tell it used to be a model of those fancy bright red cars that looked like they had a mustache in the front.

Soda plopped down next to the boy, watching him zoom the car back and forth on the grass, opening and shutting the door then walking his hands with his fingers away from the car. Soda was amazed, the car looked fancy. Much more than any toys that Soda had, his were all one solid piece of plastic but Steve's- Steve's had functioning doors, fancy seats, and if you had something small enough you could probably stick it in one of the seats.

But its paint was chipped, there were a few dents in it and one of the car doors wouldn't close correctly. He learned that after observing Steve try and shut it a few times after playing with it for a while. The car was well-loved and had clearly been through a lot.

"That's a cool car." Soda stated, then Steve looked at him.

"It's my only one." The little boy mumbled, tightening his grip on it. Soda didn't understand why, he wasn't going to take it away from him or anything.

"What is it?" The blonde asked with a genuine curiosity that Steve couldn't help but fumble at. He picked the car up from off the ground and sat crisscrossed on the grass. Soda waited patiently for his response.

"It's, uhm, a Ford Convertible," Steve played with the car in his hands, then looked up at Soda. "You could see some around town if you look hard enough."

"I think I have," Soda replied quickly, "They look real fancy."

Soda looked at Steve in awkward silence for a few more moments, and then Steve awkwardly held the car out for Soda to take. "Here," He mumbled, looking away from Soda as he gave him the toy. "You can play with it if you want."

Soda beamed, grabbing the car quickly and zooming it around the floor. Steve's hand almost followed after the car when Soda took it harshly, but he held it back when he saw the excited look on his face.

"Just be careful with it," Steve grumbled as he watched.

That day Soda forgot to give it back, it had just slipped his mind. Recess ended abruptly and everyone rushed inside to continue the school day.

When Steve got home that day he placed his bag down in his room, and later when his parents started fighting he retreated back to busy himself with his prized possession. He was scrounging through his bag trying to find it, and when he couldn't he almost started to cry.

He must have been making too much noise because then it alerted his dad. He doesn't know what necessarily ticked him off, the mess he made while throwing around everything in his bag or the crying from Steve. But his father gave him something reasonable to cry about after he found him.

The next day in school Steve's hands were balled up into fists, trying to distract himself from crying over something stupid again as he tried to confront his new friend. He'd told Soda how he must've accidentally taken the car home with him, and the other boy was extremely apologetic.

Despite how apologetic he was though, he didn't get that car back for a while. Soda kept forgetting. Steve would ask at least once a week, and Soda would always look so genuinely crushed every time he was reminded.

When he finally got the car back it was around December. He'd given the car to him in October.

Soda invited Steve to his house for the first time and was excited to introduce Steve as his best friend. Soda had claimed that if he'd just waited for his parents instead of getting on the bus like he usually did his parents would be happy to have him over.

They waited for Soda's parents outside the school, and when they pulled up they almost expected the little boy standing next to Sodapop. They introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Curtis, and they seemed like sweet people. They had the same genuine smile as Soda did, and they always spoke gently. The complete opposite of his own.

“So, Steve, you and Soda just met this year, right?” His mother asked, and Steve nodded in response. He regrettably wasn’t paying much attention to the questions, just nodding along to whatever his parents had said.

He was focusing on the car that they had, what condition it was in, and how much it would be worth. He was way off, but that was only because he was seven and didn’t understand the concept of capitalism much. It was some type of Ford, but he personally thought his model was better.

When they pulled up in front of the house he noticed some stark contrasts from his own, although the house looked poor enough it had a well-taken-care lawn, its front door was open and its screen door was closed, and it had a nice paint job.

When he entered the house it had this warm aura to it, comforting and happy.

"Soda, why don't you go get Steve that surprise you had for him?" His mother urged, and then Soda bounced up and down excitedly. The younger boy ran off into a room, slamming the door. Steve flinched slightly at the loud noise, then turned to look at Mrs. Curtis quizzically.

He didn't get a response before Soda came barreling in holding something in each of his hands. He held them out to Steve, smiling at him excitedly. There he was holding Steve's old busted-up red Model Ford Convertible and a second one that Steve recognized as a dark blue Model 1947 Cadillac.

Steve could almost cry.

"They're both for you! I told Mama about how I kept forgettin' your car and felt real bad," He said shyly as Steve took the cars from his hands, "So she helped me get another as an apology!"

Steve looked up at Mrs. Curtis, he wasn't stupid, and he knew Soda couldn't buy one himself. Obviously, Mrs. Curtis had done this. He tried to hold back tears and mouthed a quick thank you.

So yeah, you could say Steve Randle liked cars. He liked them a lot, actually.

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

double take (alternate version pt.1)

pairing: stranger!jisung (??) x fem!reader

summary: based off of double take by dhruv <3

tags/warnings: reader is lwk kind of obsessed, mentions of food i think? not really proofread 😍

a/n: so i decided to kind of rewrite double take.....this is from the reader's perspective <3 hope yall like it <3

double take (original)

masterlist...

"boy, you got me hooked onto something, who could say that they saw us coming? tell me, do you feel the love?…."

The first time you saw Han Jisung, you almost tripped over your own feet. He wasn’t doing anything extraordinary—just standing in line at the coffee shop, scrolling through his phone. But there was something about him that made you look twice. Maybe it was the soft way his hair fell over his forehead, or the faint curve of a smile tugging at his lips as he read something on the screen.

You quickly ducked your head, hoping he hadn’t noticed you staring. But the image of him lingered in your mind long after you’d left the shop, your usual order clutched in your hands.

The second time you saw him, it was in the park. You were sitting under the shade of a tree, sketching in your notebook, when you heard a burst of laughter. Looking up, you spotted him with a group of friends, his smile brighter than the sun filtering through the leaves.

For a moment, you forgot about your drawing. You’d never seen someone so… alive. His laugh was infectious, and you found yourself smiling too, even though you didn’t know what had made him laugh.

You tried to focus on your sketch again, but your hand faltered, drawing lines that didn’t belong. Frustrated, you closed the notebook and decided to head home. As you walked past him, you felt his gaze flicker to you for the briefest of moments. Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept walking, pretending not to notice.

The third time was an accident—or maybe fate, you weren’t sure. It had started raining unexpectedly, and you’d forgotten your umbrella. As you hurried toward the nearest shelter, you nearly collided with someone. Looking up, you found yourself face-to-face with him.

“Oh, sorry!” you blurted, stepping back.

“No, it’s okay,” he said, his voice warm and slightly breathless. He looked at you, really looked at you, and you felt your cheeks heat under his gaze.

Before you could think of something to say, he held out his umbrella. “Here. Take this.”

You blinked, surprised. “What about you?”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’ll be fine. You look like you need it more.”

For a second, you hesitated. Then you took the umbrella, your fingers brushing against his. “Thank you,” you said softly.

“Anytime,” he replied, giving you one last glance before walking away, rain soaking his hoodie. You stood there for a moment, clutching the umbrella, your heart racing.

After that, it felt like you couldn’t stop running into him. At the grocery store, at the library, even on the subway. Each encounter was brief but left you replaying it over and over in your mind. You started to wonder if he noticed you too, or if you were just another stranger in his day.

One afternoon, as you sat at the coffee shop by the window, sketching absentmindedly, you caught sight of him walking in. Your heart jumped as he ordered his drink, completely unaware of you. You forced yourself to look down at your notebook, but when he turned to leave, your eyes met for the briefest of moments.

He hesitated, as if he recognized you, and you felt a rush of something you couldn’t quite name. But before you could say anything, he smiled faintly and walked out the door.

It was weeks later when you saw him again, this time at a small record shop. You were flipping through vinyls when his voice broke through the quiet hum of the store.

“You’re the one from the park, right?”

You turned, your breath catching. He was standing a few feet away, a sheepish grin on his face.

“And the coffee shop,” you added, surprising yourself.

He laughed, the sound sending a warm flutter through your chest. “Guess we keep running into each other.”

“Maybe it’s fate,” you said, half-joking.

His eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. “Maybe it is,” he said quietly.

From that day on, your lives began to intertwine. Coffee runs turned into long conversations, walks in the park became shared silences where words weren’t needed. You learned about his music, his dreams, his fears. And he learned about your art, the way you saw the world through lines and colors.

One evening, as the two of you sat on a hill overlooking the city, he turned to you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded, your heart pounding.

“Do you believe in connections? Like, meeting someone and feeling like they’re meant to be in your life?”

You smiled, the answer already on your lips. “I do. Because that’s how I feel about you.”

Relief and joy lit up his face, and he reached for your hand, his fingers lacing with yours. As the city lights twinkled below, you leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling like you’d found something you hadn’t even known you were looking for.

And in that moment, everything felt right.

lwk kind of rushed 😰 either way hope yall enjoyed <3

today's writing playlist....

double take by dhruv, what it is (solo version) by doechii, flamin hot lemon by jaehyun, smoke by jaehyun, dandelion by jaehyun

*bold is explicit*

my playlist

taglist is open! please comment if you would like to be added <3

[bbearthyy]

old draft i didn’t wanna post but i’m gonna anyways

just a lil blurb about jj being pegged

cw: mommy kink, pegging, cockwarming, overstim, crying during sex

i have a severe problem with the lack of fics about pegging jj because i KNOW he’d take it so good

{•~•}

jj was miserable. he had tears rolling down his cheeks, and he couldn’t stop sniffling. he’d been like this for hours, not allowed to move. you’d caught him jerking off when you got home from work earlier, and even though it’s not a rule of his, you thought it was a perfect opportunity to do something you’d been thinking about for weeks now.

his thighs trembled from their place on either side of your hips, legs getting sore from the way he straddled you. your strap was pressed deep inside of him, making his tummy feel all full, but it wasn’t enough. he had his head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist squeezing every so often.

“mama,” he whined, burying his face into your neck as his cheeks burned with embarrassment. you gave a noncommittal hum, acknowledging him as if you forgot he was there. “can i move? please? ‘ve been good ma, please.” you sighed mournfully, like it was such a daunting task having to please him.

he was caught off guard when you moved, arms wrapping around his back to keep him in place as you rolled over, pinning him on his back. he let out a loud gasp, hands holding tightly onto the pillow under his head. you grabbed onto his hips tightly, finger nails digging into the skin there. you immediately began moving, slamming further into him with every thrust.

the boy was too far gone to speak, letting out little “ah, ah, ah” noises with every movement of your hips. you taunted him as you moved, leaning down to press your lips against his ear. “awh, poor baby. can’t take it, huh? it’s alright. mama’s gonna take care of you.” jj’s face burned bright red, a mix of embarrassment and arousal making him blush.

“m-mama, gon’- AH - mh, ‘m gonna cum mama.” the blonde cried out, thighs tensing around your hips. you sped up your movements, strap pressing deep inside of jj. soon he made a sound much like a sob, body trembling as cum spurt out the bright red tip of his cock, coating his happy trail and most of his lower stomach. your thrusts slowed to a stop as he came, your hands rubbing his thighs gently.

jj sighed contentedly, thighs relaxing and body sinking into the covers beneath him. he let out a yelp when you began moving again, hips starting their quick thrusts once more. “mama wait i-,” he cried, cut off by his own moans. “silly boy,” you began, “you thought we were done?”

[cruel-as-sin]

bad timing | logan howlett

this is just a little thing about cas and logan running into each other in the kitchen (takes place while reader is in the bathtub during baby, am i your little secret)

↳ summary: reader’s roommate (aka cas) goes into the kitchen at a bit of a bad time, and ends up encountering… a stranger?

word count: 1.5k (sorry lol)

pairings: old man!logan & reader’s roommate, old man!logan x fem!stripper!reader (mentioned/referenced)

content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), sexual references/innuendos, no use of y/n, third person pov, age gap (cas and reader’s ages are unspecified but they are both adults), gun (not used), cas is down bad for logan (lmk if i missed anything!)

↳ a/n: so this was absolutely NOT supposed to be this long but i had so much fun writing that i just got caught up in it… anyway enjoy my semi self-insert LMAO

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Logan has been rifling through the cupboards for what feels like forever. Realistically, he knows it’s only been two or three minutes, but he can’t make heads or tails of the organization in this place and he just wants a fucking cup to get you some water.

Then he hears the door open from down the hall. It wouldn’t be you- too soon. He sniffs the air, just once- nope. Not you. Back and forth footsteps, the quiet click of a closing door- and then the sound gets closer.

Breathing. Quiet, nearly held, but not quite. A heartbeat that’s just a little too fast.

Someone’s there.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Cas had tried to wait it out. Really, they had, swear it. But they’d just gotten to a massive story beat in their newest favorite game, including a betrayal, and anger makes them hungry. Really fucking hungry. Plus they probably hadn’t eaten since long before their roommate got home. They’d lost track of time, which was, admittedly, their fault. All of this kind of was, if you exclude the fact that they’d just been seeing red over this stupid video game.

Anger also makes them forgetful.

So it was only natural that after a long period of ignoring their hunger, then finding out that a friendship built up over the entire game was a lie, they were kind of distracted and maybe forgot that their roommate had company.

Like I said, it’s not their fault!

Anyway. They’d slipped off their headphones only to immediately pull them back on when they’d heard the sounds from the room next door. Not the first time, probably wouldn’t be the last. They waited impatiently, scrolling through TikTok until they deemed it had been long enough for them to venture out of their room. At this point, they didn’t care what they heard, they were fucking starving.

When they pulled off their headphones again and were met with silence, they thanked the lord and began making their way towards the kitchen.

They hadn’t even pulled their bedroom door shut when they heard something- the closing of a cupboard. They froze, ears perking up, and they could pick up on the sound of water splashing from the bathroom. Jesus, in the bathtub? Cas was going to have to remind you to clean it.

But if that was the case, which they so foolishly completely fairly assumed, then whoever was in the kitchen was probably an intruder.

Okay, listen. They’re paranoid, alright? Anxiety will do that to you, especially when meds that work are about as hard to come by as an ounce of common sense in today’s society- and Cas, tonight, has neither.

They caught the door before it closed, slipping back inside their room and getting the gun from their safe. They pulled the door closed behind them as quietly as possible, feeling rather than hearing the click as it shut, their gun gripped tightly in their hands.

So that’s how we ended up here. With your roommate stepping cautiously down the hall towards the kitchen, convinced that someone has broken into your apartment.

Which they haven’t.

When they reach the doorway, they spot him. An old older man, rummaging through the cupboards with a frustrated huff as he tries (and fails) to find what he’s looking for.

What the fuck is he doing? Cas thinks to themself, holding their breath as they linger in the doorway, watching for any sign of what this man might be up to.

“Where do you keep your cups?” He grumbles, opening another door, met with various painted bowls laughing back at him.

Cas stays quiet, brow furrowed. He doesn’t look like a thief- but looks can be deceiving, right?

“What, are you just gonna stand there? Where are your fuckin’ cups?” Is he talking to-

He turns around, eyeing them up for a brief moment before meeting their gaze with a hardened expression.

Cas is frozen in place, eyes locked on the man as he stares at them impatiently. Their grip on the gun tightens to the point that their knuckles are white, but something keeps them from raising it. They may not have common sense, but they have damn good intuition, and this guy is not a threat.

“Um- my- you.. what?”

His gaze darts down to the gun in their hands. Immediately, his entire stance changes. He’s tense, on edge, ready for a fight. This guy has to be pushing seventy, there’s no way he can do anything, right? But his muscular arms visible beneath his white undershirt, the way his eyes were trained on the weapon almost immediately, the lack of any panic or fear in his expression, all suggest otherwise. “You her roommate?” His tone is much less friendly now (if they could have even called it that to begin with). Despite being the one holding a gun, Cas is pretty sure that one wrong move will leave them dead on the floor in seconds.

But also, this guy just mentioned you. Which means… he’s your company?

Before they can think too long about whether or not this guy can even get it up anymore, they realize they should probably say something. Cause, you know, they’re still holding a gun.

“Uhh.. yeah.” They stammer. “Sorry. I’m, um, a little paranoid.” They stumble over their words with a nervous laugh, cautiously setting the gun down on the kitchen counter.

“I can see that.” His stance relaxes some, but the tension in his bones remains evident.

“Sorry.” They say again. “She told me she had company, I just thought you two were in the bathroom. And I thought you’d be… well, um…” Younger. Much younger. Not someone’s grandpa, holy shit. He raises an eyebrow, and upon further consideration, they decide it’s probably best not to tell this very dangerous looking man how ridiculously fucking old he is. (Like, seriously?) “Nevermind.”

He seems to know what they were going to say, but thankfully moves on from the subject. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, yeah. Last one on the end.” They point, and sure enough, when he opens that cupboard, the inside is full of various cups, mugs, and glasses. He picks out a tall one, moving to the sink to fill it with water. “Don’t.”

He turns, looking at them with a gaze they’re pretty sure could turn people to stone. Who the hell is this guy? “I’m getting your roommate some water.” His tone is low, bordering on menacing.

Cas, having determined that this man is very much not a threat if you brought him here, is now very quickly beginning to understand why you took home such a specimen.

Yeah, okay, they’re a masochist. And probably have something wrong with them. Sue them, or something, but holy shit, they kind of want to pick the gun back up just to see what he’d do about it.

There’s definitely something wrong with them.

Anyway.

“No, I- I know, I, um-” Fuck. As much as they’d like to think they’re some kind of badass who could stand up to this guy even a little bit for the sake of getting a good punishment, every coherent thought in their head has gone out the window. Spit it out already! “We have a pitcher in the fridge. You can get it from there.”

He stares at them for a moment, nostrils flaring- but then, suddenly, he relents. If they weren’t so worked up they thought they might be delusional, they’d be convincing anyone that would listen that this man had a fucking smirk on his face. “Thanks.” He says as he turns away, pulling the pitcher out of the fridge.

“And you can get ice from the freezer.” God, they sound like an idiot.

While he’s turned away making you a glass of water, they can’t help but stare. He’s big, tall, veins on his arms that make Cas wonder if he has them anywhere else- nope, stop, not thinking about him like that. He’s clearly whipped for you.

“D’you know what snacks she likes?” He turns around again to ask the question. How does he stare so intensely yet look so unbothered at the same time? “I didn’t think she’d want much since it’s late, but…”

“String cheese. In the fridge.” Cas has given up on trying to rein in their thoughts, instead settling for getting him the fuck out of here as quickly as possible. They tap their fingers on the countertop, trying to act like they aren’t staring when they absolutely are.

Before he can leave, they speak up again- they just can’t help themself. “Did you get some for yourself?”

He looks at them with a confused frown. “What?”

“Water. Did you get some? I’m assuming no, since I had to tell you where our cups are.” If there’s one thing Cas is good at keeping a firm tone for, it’s taking care of other people, and there’s no way in hell this old man doesn’t need a long drink of water after fucking you.

“I’m fine.”

They wave a hand, interrupting him. “Water. Now.”

For a moment he just stares at them, and they gulp, feeling heat rise to their cheeks.

Yep, they really did just tell this man what to do.

But for some reason, he listens, pouring himself a glass of water and downing it, eyes locked on them the whole time.

“There. You happy?”

“Could be better, but that’ll do for now.” They ease into the banter with him naturally.

He huffs, grabbing the things he got for you. “Yeah, alright. Night.”

Even a goodnight? What a gentleman.

“Goodnight!” They call out, watching him go before they begin to make themself something to eat. They’d almost forgotten entirely about their quest for sustenance and their intense gaming session- and while those things take precedence for the rest of the night, that old man lingers in the back of their mind.

[lollipopsie]

going crazy. goobbye.

[sysig]

Pretty clothes for you! ✨ (Patreon)

[trainingdummyrabbit]

yknow it just set in what im actually doing .