#i might private this later but i wanted to get it off my chest

[wildfairies]

ruby: aka little rubes, ruby tooby, smushy, ruby tuesday, screamy, little smush, wooby tubes, and many other nicknames. thank you for opening your tiny heart to me.

we adopted ruby when i was in high school. i fell in love with her picture on the animal rescue website. she and her mom (who we also adopted) were very skittish and took a lot of time and trust-building to warm up. i loved her so much, but she didn't truly become my baby until i moved back home after college.

i was in the worst place of my life in summer/fall 2022 when she began seeking me out. you might say she knew i needed her, but she wasn't really that kind of cat 💀 we were all subject to her whims. she started spending time with me because it was exactly what she wanted to do, which makes me feel just as special as if she actually meant to soothe me. ❤️ she would come lay on my bed by the window where the afternoon sun would make it warm, eventually dubbed "her sunny spot."

it became our daily routine. she would wait all day for me to get home from work or class, and i would call for her to come snuggle as soon as i walked through the door. she would trot up the stairs after me and hop onto my bed. she would nuzzle my arm and resettle herself about three times before falling asleep. we would lay with my face against her fur while i gave her scratchies in all her favorite places. she would breathe quietly and make little trill noises when she was extra happy. i tried to never take a moment of this for granted, always thinking how lucky i was, but we never have enough time with our pets.

she would start purring as soon as i laid my cheek against her, even before being pet. she loved christmas bows and would always steal them to play with so we found them strewn around the house. she loved watching the leaves fall from the window. she was obsessed with the attic and could play up there for hours.

we said goodbye yesterday after finding out she likely had a brain tumor with few viable treatment paths. my heart is absolutely at peace knowing she is finally comfortable again, but now comes missing her so terribly. it's hard to accept that i was expecting 10 more years with her.

i love her perfect pink nose, her multicolored toe beans, her little ears, the brown spot on her tummy, and the way she looks like a white cat someone poured gray paint on top of. she was stubborn and mischievous, an absolute thief. her favorite food was cheese and she would do anything to get it. she was kind of a brat and obsessed with feathers. i love her and miss her so so much.

she also snored:

[hyewka]

—what a loser! | c.bg

୨୧ synopsis. hearing rumours of your sex life travel around your campus for the first time has you standing in front of the very person that you’re convinced is responsible. your secret fuck buddy.

୨୧ warnings. stoner!gyu, bratty sub!beomgyu, mean femdom, humiliation kink, VERY public, hair pulling, hate sex kind of, cunnilingus, use of pet, fuck buddies, reader has a priest dad, bit of a toxic dynamic

“Why’re you here?” he mumbles casting his eyes down to his feet as he idly skates around, not paying you even a little bit of eye contact or actual acknowledgement.

“Can we talk somewhere else? More private?”

He ignores you.

You huff, rolling your eyes, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. The sun had already set, there were even less people out—no one was skating around at this hour but Beomgyu. “Why—" you take a breath, already feeling yourself get emotional and angry, “Why did you go around telling people about us?”

There’s a few reasons circling your head. Attention, bragging rights—attention was a big one but you hoped, no, a part of you believes it was an accident. That he let the information slip from his lips when he was drunk, or out of his right mind. But with the way he’s acting, it’s getting harder to hold on to the belief that Beomgyu was misunderstood and not just a fucking asshole.

Too much time goes by with silence and you think hes blatantly ignoring you again, but then he halts his skating, taking the time to run a hand through his hair. Hair that you’ve regretfully played with days on end, twirling strands around your finger, giggling as if the foundation you’ve built your relationship on wasn’t such a fragile fire that could be snuffed out in seconds if not the tiniest bit careful.

Look where you are now.

“Dunno, ‘cuz I can.”

His eyes are on you, bangs parted, looking straight at you. You can’t get it out of your mind, how the ends of his lips twitched up as he said that. Bitch. Fucking bitch.

He finds this amusing. A game. Your reputation was a game to him. Of course it is. He never took anything serious, not his career, not his relationships, not his future—he never cared.

Your nostrils flare as you stomp large strides towards him, charging and shoving his chest, having him stumble backwards off his board, dryly laughing. “The goody two shoes about to commit an assault?”

“Oh fuck off, you wouldn’t dare try suing me. God, I hate you so much. You’re such a—such a fucking loser!” you yell.

That wiped off the cocky demeanour.

“Here’s some two cents for you, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about whatever this is between us. I really couldn’t. But you—” your face gets heated up, pointing a finger at him. “You will never find anything better than what I gave you. And you’re going to live with that.”

He scoffs like he’s unbothered but it’s so clear with the way he clenches his jaw afterwards he’s pissed—it hit a spot. Good. Good, let him be hurt.

“What do you even—what did you gain by telling everybody my sex life? Having people call me a slut? Some sick pleasure from being superior to me for once? Attention? Huh? Why’re you acting out now?” Your eyes are narrowed as they implore answers out of him, searching his face and eyes, anything, anything that you can read from his unbearable silence.

“Yeah.”

You blink confused. “What?”

“Yeah, I wanted the attention. Happy now?” He walks to shoulder you but you let out a scoff, holding him back by his arm and pushing him in front of you again.

“You can’t for one second act like a man can you? You just run away from everything!” you feel like you could rip out your hair with how frustrating hes being.

“If you’re just going to stand there and insult me like a bitch I might as well just go and do something fucking productive.” he spits.

Your cheeks heat up and you think for the first time you understand the phrase of seeing red. Hes been poking and poking and poking with his nonchalance then later smugness then going onto just straight up disrespect—he was really pushing you. So he should’ve expected the hand that goes to strike him against his face—your chest rising up and down, brows furrowed deeply.

A faint red hand print blooms across his cheek, and his jaw falls slack, eyes blown out and wide. You suddenly grab him by the back of his hair, no doubt burning his scalp with the way he lets out a loud hiss. “I fucking hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

You’re so close to his face and everything about the way he’s looking at you gives you the chills. You hate him. You do. He’s insane, he’s selfish, he’s rude, he’s—

A shaky lopsided grin still manages to break from his face, “No you don’t.”

And that was your last straw.

The addictive nature about Beomgyu is what kept you coming back over and over again—he never lead, he just let you…take him. And sometimes, at a point of your life where you feel like everythings being controlled for you, not having the choice to make the decisions you like, this somewhat served as an outlet.

That’s the more…reasonable explanation.

The other explanation is simple. He’s so fucking sexy.

The way he still melts into a kiss so harsh and mean, attempting to cup your cheeks, but immedietely dropping it when he feels your disapporval, his whimpers already picking up, not taking any incentive to breathe as if this kiss was enough to keep him alive; it’s those little things that have you up in the middle of the night thinking about him. Him.

Beomgyu, the stereotypical bad-boy stoner hipster outcast—the antithesis of everything present in your picture perfect life—he keeps you up at night. The mix of weed and his hilariously bad attempt at covering it with febreeze and cologne wafts your scent, it overwhelms you, but you still can’t get enough. Everything annoying about him disappears when he’s touching you.

“Why? Why do you keep doing this?” you say, finally being able to pull away from him—only after you had jerked on his hair harsher.

His lips are swollen, red and glistening—he looks pretty like this. He really does. But those lips always end up saying something to piss you off. “Keep doing what? Letting everyone know how you really are? Not actually the good girl you pretend to be, huh.”

You don’t know if he’s goading you on purpose because he likes it rough, or if he’s just being an asshole in general. It doesn’t matter. If he’s going to act like a brat, he’ll get treated like one.

Your knuckles had turned white with how hard you were gripping his hair so it feels relieving when you finally let it go. He tries to lean in to chase after your lips again, but you have your hands on his chest to stop him.

The flash of panic in his eyes when you step back from him is hilarious, it really is. It tells you everything you need to know. He wants you. He really wants you. He doesn’t care if you hit him or ruin his life, he wants you.

If his next words are any indication. “Hey, hey what are you doing? Where are you going?”

You walk to sit on a step of the stairs. “Do you think I’m a slut? Is that why you thought you had the audacity? Surely because otherwise if you respected me you wouldn’t have spread those rumors about me.”

He huffs out a laugh, the biggest reaction you’ve gotten out of him so far. He also walks to get closer to you. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You haven’t even come up with one single reason that would paint me in a better light. You really do see me as a fucking douchebag loser.” He’s clearly getting emotional with the way his voice gets higher pitched, the nonchalant front cracking, his lips slightly trembling.

“Because that’s what you are. Douchebag. Loser. You’re. A. Loser. Choi Beomgyu.”

You can see his fists clench at his sides, tight lipped. If you knew any better, you think he might’ve just started crying, but you’re not interested in tears. You angle your feet to point to the ground, “On your knees.”

He only hesitates for a second, he only stands there staring at you for a second, only a second before he crumbles and does as you say, getting on his knees in front of you, between your legs. “Closer.”

“But-"

“But what?” Your skirts already half way ridden up and you stare him down, keeping your eye contact intense.

“We’re in p-public. Anyone can see.”

You know hes blushing when you see the tips of his ears peek out, bright red. Aw, he’s nervous? Embarrassed? Shy?

“You’re never seeing me after this Choi. Make of it what you can or piss off.”

His eyes widen comically at that. “What? What does that mean? Are you leaving me?”

You can’t decipher or understand why exactly hes so surprised but you shake it off, you don’t want your good time to be spoiled. Not when your underwears’ already sticking to your pussy seeing him on his knees, on the ground, with his ripped baggy jeans, no doubt a pavement burn getting to him. “Are you going to eat me out or should I get up and leave?”

He shakes his head vehemently, hands on your knees spreading your legs. “Sorry, ‘m sorry. Don’t leave. Gonna make you feel good, promise.”

He’s already rambling like he’s dumbed out, like he’s about to be a goner. But he’s still hesitant in his actions and you groan, throwing your head back. “What the fuck Beomgyu?”

A pout rests on his lips, “I—…I don’t want anyone seeing you..”

You think he’s giving a fuck for your decency, you think its about you for once. But then another thought pops up in your head and your lips twitch. It’s not for you. It’s for him. He doesn’t want any possible pedestrian to see what only him so far has been able to see.

This isn’t worth it.

You make an attempt to get up before Beomgyu immediately has you sit back down, wasting no time to press his face between your legs, skirt over his head. His tongue pokes out to lick on over your panties, gradually wetting it and you sigh, the tenseness of your body evaporating. “Yeah, thats it. Be good for me pup.” He whines at that.

Beomgyu doesn’t tease any longer the moment your hands go to grab his hair because suddenly he bunches your panties to the side and you feel the contact of his hot tongue on your cunt, already lapping away like a dog. Dumb dog. Dumb dog. Dumb dumb dumb—but shit he’s having you curl your toes at the speed he’s going, the way he moans against your pussy like hes somehow enjoying eating you out more than you are.

“You’re my toy, nothing else. But you just keep—you keep irritating me, you keep being a dick, you keep provoking me.” you breathe out, tightening your fistful of his hair in your hand, making his moans even louder, nuzzling closer in your pussy you think he might genuinely suffocate at this point. But knowing him, he’d probably like that. “God, you absolute loser.”

He whines something intelligible, wet eyes looking up at you with his brows pulling up—it makes you gasp as you bite down on your bottom lip. He’s so pretty it’s unfair. Why’s such a sinful person so pretty? God must really have the time of his life making this hell for you.

You take it upon yourself to lift yourself a bit, grinding on his face harder, trying to reach your high, obstructing your view of his face—even with the anxiety of doing this so out in the open resting at the pit of your stomach. He’s practically mewling in your pussy, and the sounds send vibrations, his nose bumping up your clit every now and then. He lets you use him, he just lets you.

When Beomgyu fully submits like this to you…you see stars, you come hard. “More…more”, he groans, licking up your arousal. It’s so dirty, it really is, but you can’t help but nod.

Having the skater eat you out till your legs were jelly at a skatepark late at night would surely guarantee your place in hell.

“You’re such a whore, letting me fuck your face like this baby—don’t soil your pants yet, I know how you get. Probably getting off at the fact that we’re out l-like this…h-hah—dirty, dirty boy.”

He shakes his head, the glistening sweat of his forehead and the matted strands on his temple proof of how hard hes really going at it. “Not dirty. Just wan’ your attention..”

The second you tut at him for stopping he immedietely dives back in—you don’t know if it’s more him being afraid of a punishmet or because he himself doesn’t want to stop. Never mind that, because now hes wrapping his pretty lips around your clit and you’re fucking losing your mind with how quick your head clouds.

There are so many things circling your head right now. And this always happens whenever he starts talking during a hook up. Yes, it helps you get to an edge even faster but its for all the wrong reasons. He’d dirty talk for a bit before switching up, and suddenly all of his words are loving and cute and adorable and, and that’s bad. When you see him other than the image he’s curated for himself—that’s when you start feeling the unfamiliar butterflies fluttering.

You don’t like it. He’s not good for you.

“Stop thinking, only focus on me.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his tangled hair, disheveling it even more. Only him.

He makes you orgasm again, and when you catch your breath you gently push his head away, then harder when he can’t seem to stop kissing your inner thighs. He sighs, dropping it, but not without giving you one last puppy plea. You avoid his eyes, pulling your panties up and scoping around the area, all of a sudden feeling exposed. Did you really just let this punk eat you out on a staircase?

You stand up, dusting your ass, taking note of the redness of his knees and the large wet patch in between his crotch when Beomgyu follows, getting up from his knees, wiping his ridiculously wet lips. You tuck a strand behind your ear as you awkwardly stand, thinking over what you’re going to say now.

We’re over, bye.

I’ll go home now, don’t call me.

I hope you know how bad you messed up. Bye.

I’m blocking you on everything so don’t even think of contacting me.

“Don’t leave me.”

…That has you snap out of your reverie.

His voice is low, no doubt vulnerable. This is the worst. This is bad. Shit.

You clear your throat. “Why? Why shouldn’t I? Even if I didn’t want to I’d have to…my dad knows about you now because of the little stunt you pulled and he definitely doesn’t approve of you.” You mumble the last part, crossing your arms and keeping your distance. But that’s not of any use when he steps forward every time you take a step back.

“I’m—” He runs a hand through his hair again, clearly frustrated. And you don’t understand why, does he really operate life thinking there aren’t consequences to his actions? If he didn’t want to stop this so bad why’d he tell people about your relationship when you explicitly told him not to? “We can—we can do it in secret like we did this entire time. He doesn’t have to know.”

You sigh, also frankly frustrated. “Beomgyu! Why can’t you just-"

Suddenly you’re in his embrace, engulfing you so gently and yet the desperation in it couldn’t have been any more tighter. “Please, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll really do everything you want, I’ll be your toy, your pet, whatever shit you’re into—just don’t leave me."

You really shouldn’t give in. You really, really shouldn’t.

But then he nuzzles into your neck, mumbling with that slight whiny drawl in his tone, “I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Won’t misbehave anymore.”

Of course you give in. Again.

୨୧ note. honestly don’t know where this came from, i was just making up backstory as i was writing. literally only had one thought and one thought only, what if sub!bad boy x dom! good girl? and that was the small attempt made here lol, i love hearing any feedback or even a theory or two concerning the story’s world as i might explore these characters again 🙏

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I love writing toxic people.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“Mr. Hansen--” You begin, choking on your error, “Lloyd, my flight--” 

“Christ, I told you, cancel it. I’ll add the difference to your next check,” he grits under his breath. 

You plant your feet, shifting despite your effort as he keeps his grip on your hand. He turns back with a grunt. 

“What’re you doing?” He asks. 

“No, what are you doing?” You throw back. “What the hell is going on?” 

“First, watch that sweet mouth of yours. Second, we’ve been through this, Pixie pie. You just need to play along,” he keeps his voice low and peeks over his shoulder. “Loosen up a bit.” He loosens his hold on you and runs his hand up your sleeve. “Hm, I guess I shoulda told you to dress up a bit.” 

“What?” You look down at your black cotton tea-length dress. You chose it for comfort but it’s not entirely frumpy. The ribbed stockings might not add much to the attire however. 

“Just...” He grabs your shoulders and nudges them back, “push the chest out a bit.” 

“Ugh,” you clasp onto his wrists, “stop. Okay. I’ll stay for dinner but I can’t miss my flight--” 

“You have to,” he argues. 

“You realise this is wildly inappropriate,” you say. 

“Do you really expect anything different?” He tweaks a brow. “You’re staying. I’m not doing this alone. I put it off for a decade already--” 

“Jesus--” 

“No blasphemy either,” he lets go of you and presses his finger to your lips. You growl and shove his hand away. 

“I want a bonus, a big bonus--” 

He hushes you and waves his hands. He leans back and once more looks over his shoulders. “Later. We’ll deal with numbers in private. Right now, you need to come meet your in-laws.” 

You squint at him. It’s an act, you remind yourself, but something about his commitment to it makes you uneasy. You know better than to believe a word that comes out of his mouth but there’s a degree of earnestness in him that’s unsettling. 

“Baby, please, don’t look at me like that,” he steps closer, “I need you to look at me like I’m the second coming, okay? We’re madly in love, you and I.” Your eyes widen and he sighs, “okay, you’re not scared of me.” 

You neutralise your expression and blow out a long breath. You shake away the tension and shrug. It’s as good as you can do. 

“Here,” he grabs your wrist and turns, guiding your arm through his, “just smile pretty for me.” 

He hooks your elbow with his and urges you onward. You steel yourself for the room of strangers as their voices drift through the archway.  

You enter the front room and quickly scan the space; there’s a large-mouthed hearth, lit and draped in evergreen and berries; a long cream sectional, a matching duo of armchairs, and a chaise in the same shade; a low glass coffee table with a golden perch and a console table in a similar style along the wall crowded with bottles and crystal; an area rug in a smooth white with patterns in dulcet beige and rich butterscotch; and the low din is cast by tea lights daintily set around the space in glass holders and candelabra. 

More pressing than the decor are the bodies that fill the room. You recognise Ransom as he speaks with an older woman with short white hair and thick-framed glasses. She wears a red pantsuit with a gold blouse. Very festive. 

You glance over at Lloyd and take him in fully. You hadn’t paid much attention for the whirlwind all around. He wears a pair of evergreen slacks and a sweater with a reindeer's face on the front. He wouldn’t even let you put tinsel on your desk but now he’s dressed like a kid in a holiday parade. 

“Looks like someone didn’t get the memo,” a tall blonde woman approaches with a glass of pale wine in hand. You try not to look with concern at her rounded middle; it sticks out starkly as her long limbs are thin and lithe. “A very grim Christmas indeed.” 

“Lillian,” Lloyd faces the woman about his own height. She has his eyes and his lips. You assume their relation before he declares it. “My sister, Pixie,” he gestures to her carelessly. 

“Older sister,” she preens and rests her hand on her swollen stomach. Your eyes flick away from the crystal in her hand. 

“By about thirty-one seconds,” Lloyd scoffs. 

“Oh, sweetie, it’s non-alcoholic,” she swirls the wine in her glass, “she’s so tiny and quiet.” 

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, “it’s nice to meet you.” 

She laughs, “oh, so polite. Entirely not his type.” 

You try not to react. You agree. You know the women that Lloyd really likes. You’ve screened their calls until they just give up on getting a second date. 

“Believe it or not, Lil, you’re not everyone’s type,” Lloyd retorts. “I think your ex-husband would agree. The second one too.” Lloyd lifts his chin and looks around, “is the third here or are we on number four?” 

“Lovely,” she spits. “Love you too, brother.” 

He shakes his head and draws you away from her. She raises her brows and her glass and sips. You let him take you away. You already despise most of these people. The room radiates with derision. Your family might have some grudges but there’s a general air of good will. 

“I need a drink,” he mutters. 

You gladly follow him to the table. He pours himself a tumbler from the boxy decanter. He sighs as he picks it up but stops himself from drinking. 

“Well, help yourself,” he says. 

You hesitate but not for long. You need something if you’re going to get through this. You pour yourself some chardonnay and sidle away from the table. You check your watch as you raise your glass. 

“Don’t fucking worry about your flight,” he hisses under his breath. “If I’m not getting out of this, you aren’t either.” 

“But why?” You ask behind the glass. 

“Not right now,” he warns and nods at another figure as they approach. “Uncle Benson.” 

“Junior,” the man returns. You drink your wine and don’t comment on the epithet. “Where’s the old man?” 

“Where he always is,” Lloyd replies. 

“Mm, and this is...” the older man looks at you pointedly, dipping his chin to do so. 

“Pixie. My fiancee,” Lloyd answers dully, almost deflating. 

“Benson,” the man offers his hand, “but a pretty girl like you can call me Benny.” 

“Benny,” Lloyd repeats to himself in confusion. 

You shake Benson’s hand, “um, thanks, nice to meet you.” 

“Mm, very nice to meet you,” he lifts your hand and smushes his lips to your knuckles. He clings to you, petting your hand. “You’re gorgeous, what’re you doing with this lump?” 

“Uncle,” Lloyd drones. 

“Adorable,” Benson inches closer, “my inheritance is bigger than his, among other things.” 

“Alright,” Lloyd snatches your hand away from him, “go have some water, Benson,” he growls, “think you’ve been into the brandy.” 

“I’d like to get into something else,” Benson snickers. 

You almost laugh, despite your disgust. You’ve heard that line before. Lloyd puts himself between you and the older man. “I think that’s why Carolyn filed the papers, huh.” 

“Oh, you little twat,” Benson snarls. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you to disappoint her on your own.” 

Lloyd tuts and shakes his head as the man lumbers off. He turns around and drains his glass. It’s strange, seeing him in his natural habitat; he’s not so ‘alpha’ here. 

“Let’s get the rounds over with.” He grumbles. 

Your wine lasts you through the introductions. Two more uncles; Carter and Linus, along with their wives, Andrea and Angela. Then the full-blooded aunts; four of them, Raquel, Shanna, Beatrice, and Lana. All of them tall, blonde, and bold in their own way. Then a batch of cousins you can’t keep sorted; Ransom and his mother Linda, among them, with no explanation as to the rest of their tribe. 

Lloyd pours himself more whiskey. You abstain from a refill and stand near the wall, observing the wilderness of entitled trust-funders. It explains so much yet inspires so many more questions. You never expected Lloyd to be the dark horse. 

“Lonely?” The timbre startles you along with the twisting pinch on your ass.  

You yipe and snag the attention of several sets of eyes around the room, not least of all Benson, drooling over another snifter of dark alcohol. You swat Ransom’s hand away and face him amid the row of laughter. Despite the airs they put on, your audience is more amused than appalled. 

“Where’s your prince, huh?” Ransom asks. “All that whiskey and...” He holds up his index then lets it go limp, “don’t think it’ll be a very peppy after party, sweetheart.” 

You sniff and cross your arms. These people are at least consistent, grossly so. It makes you wonder why Lloyd was so insistent that you watch your mouth, especially when you’ve never stooped to his level before. 

“Is it much of a party if there’s only one attendee?” You counter. 

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head, “what?” 

“Nothing,” you shake our head. You don’t need to explain the joke. Besides, this is all fake. Don’t let it get to you. 

“So, how long did he wait to put that ugly thing on your finger?” Ransom asks. 

You shrug, “long enough.” 

“Did he do the whole schtick? Get down on one knee? Put the ring in your wine glass?” He prods. 

“I’ll let him tell the story,” you say. 

“Hm, never knew a woman so unexcited about a wedding,” he snorts. 

“Maybe I’m just unexcited by my company,” you back away as his hand jiggles at his side. You eye his fingers, wary of another pinch. 

“Fine, marriage is boring anyways. What’s his favourite position? I always figured he lets the ladies do all the work,” he snickers. 

You stare at him. Not quite as offended as annoyed. You could ask him which hand he uses but you are not letting Lloyd drag you that low. Why are you even letting him put your through this? 

“Hugh,” Lloyd appears and slides his arm over your shoulders. 

“Little L,” Ransom retorts dryly. 

“Shut up,” Lloyd sneers as you resist the urge to shrug him off of you. 

“Where were you then? Leaving your woman all on her lonesome,” Ransom rubs his fingers together subtly and you scowl at him. 

“Broke the seal,” Lloyd deflects. “What do you care? You wanna hold it next time? 

“Hands are too big,” Ransom cackles. 

“Speaking of,” you pipe up. “The bathroom, where would that be?” 

Lloyd clucks and looks down at you, “down the hall, opposite the kitchen.” 

“Thanks,” you carefully slip away from him, “I’ll be back.” 

“Wait,” Lloyd catches your arm and pulls you back. “Not without this.” 

He leans in before you can react. He bends to press his lips to yours and you can’t repress a surprised squeak. He purrs and the vibration makes your skin crawl. What on earth?! 

You part and ignore the stares you can feel all around. Not just from Ransom but the rest of the room. What is he doing? That’s so embarrassing. 

You force a smile, “uh, be back.” 

You spin and scurry away. That room, those people, are suffocating, and Lloyd, not least of all. You hide in the bathroom, locking the door, and you take the moment of stillness to think. Big mistake as it all starts to set in. 

You drove all the way here under false pretenses. It’s believable that Lloyd would forget to bring the gifts. That tracks but this? The whole pretending to be engaged? What is his game? Is he really trying to impress anyone or is he torturing you? Why? 

You can’t figure any of it out. You gave up trying to understand your boss ages ago, you suppose you should do the same with these people and just get through this. For all your trouble, the food better be fucking delicious. 

You let yourself out of the bathroom and flatten against the door as you nearly collide with another person. Lillian nearly stomps right over you as she holds her stomach and rushes down the hallway. She lets out a sigh. 

“Oh, are you done in there? I’m splitting at the seams,” she trills. 

“Um, yeah, all done,” you sidle away from the door. 

“Could I trouble you for some help?” She asks. “This thing,” she pats her stomach, “I can get down but I can’t get up.” 

“Hm?” You furrow your brow in confusion, “help?” 

“We’re both girls,” she giggles. “And we’ll be sisters soon enough, won’t we?” 

“Um.” 

“You know, a pregnancy at my age, I really can’t strain myself,” she explains. 

“Oh, er, I guess--” 

“Thanks, sweetie,” she nudges you back into the bathroom. You have no choice as she heard you through. 

You stare at the wall as she slams the door and hustles over to the toilet. She pulls up her white dress and turns to sit, her silhouette a blur in your peripheral. You flick your eyes to the ceiling and bounce on your heels. 

Her stream flows out and fills the tense silence. She sighs. 

“Thank the lord,” she groans. “I swear, the little twerp is right on my bladder right now.” 

“Mm,” you nod and glance at the door. 

“I knew we should’ve gone with a surrogate,” she sniffs. “A piece of advice, when he puts one in you, make him suffer.” 

“Puts one...” you blink. “Um, I don’t...” 

“I mean, he’ll have to start trying as soon as the wedding night,” she laughs. “He’s getting up there. His swimmers won’t be as fast, will they? And the way he drinks, they’ll be too groggy to know which way is which.” 

“Um, we’ll worry about the wedding first--” 

“Enjoy it. Once you’re tied down, it’s not very much fun,” she says as she tears of tissue. “Alright then, darling, I need you.” 

You do your best not to see all of her. She reaches for you and you get close. You pull her up to her feet and she squeezes past you to the sink. You look at the toilet and shut the lid, flushing it with a push of the button. She washes her hands with a hum. 

“You’ll be so adorable when you’re big. Like an overstuffed teddy bear,” she chimes. “He’ll love that. He always did hate feeling small.” She twists off the faucet and dries her hands. “You must make him feel like the man he wishes he was.” 

You just look at her. You have no true reason to defend Lloyd, but because she’s so smug it irks you. You look her in the face, even if you feel ridiculous having to look up. 

“Well, he can piss on his own, so I think he’s just fine,” you step around her and swing open the door. The silence that follows you is the only satisfying thing about that night. 

[count-on-mi]

Mommy's little boy Part 3 (Jeongyeon)

A/N: I am really sorry that I am suffering from the heavy workload for my job so I don't even have any mood or time to write, so just upload an draft that was ready for so long, and my first Jeongyeon smut.

My mum, Jeongyeon usually looks noble and elegant, like a lady, I accidentally discovered a little secret she hides - she is particularly interested in using handcuffs during sex.

One time I went to her bedroom to look for something and found a brand-new pair of leather handcuffs hidden in a box under the bed. At the time, I thought it was Jeongyeon’s collection. After all, she is the kind of girl who likes to collect small objects. Later, I discovered several pieces of sexy underwear and stockings in the handcuffs' packaging bag, and then I realized that these might not be just "collectables."

Sure enough, I eavesdropped on several phone conversations between her and her friends, and I heard Jeongyeon complaining that my dad had never tried to discipline her with handcuffs, saying how much she longed to be tied up and ravaged, to experience that sense of futility, helpful and stimulating feeling.

It turns out that Jeongyeon, who looks noble on the outside, also has perverted desires in her heart, which gave me a new understanding of her and an interest in her. Whenever I see such a twisted mind hidden under her noble and elegant appearance, I get so excited that I want to immediately hold her down and punish her so that she can know what true happiness is.

One evening, I walked in while Jeongyeon was practicing pole dancing in her exclusive practice room. At that time, Jeongyeon was only wearing a tight dance suit, with her slender legs exposed and her breasts swaying slightly due to the intense exercise. I deliberately interrupted her practice and went up to chat with her.

"Mom, your pole dancing is getting better and better! I really want to know what would happen if you were tied up there?" I said with a smirk.

"Oh! Don't make such a joke!" Jeongyeon scolded me with a red face. I knew this little stimulation was enough to arouse her arousal.

"If Mom really likes handcuffs so much, why not try it today?" I took out the handcuffs I had prepared and waved them in front of her.

"My son…what do you want to do…" Jeongyeon's voice was trembling, and I knew she was already a little emotional.

"I want to give Mom a little surprise." I approached her, easily wrapped my arms around her waist, and pressed her against the steel pipe.

"Ah…My son…don't…" Jeongyeon's tone has softened, and I know that she has completely surrendered to her desires.

I clasped her hands together behind her back, and then slowly took off her dance clothes until she was completely naked before my eyes.

Jeongyeon's body was flawless, and her snow-white skin reflected a soft light in the dim training room. I stretched out the tip of my tongue to lick the two bright red spots on her chest. I kneaded her elastic buttocks with one hand and probed into her private parts with the other hand. I easily found the hidden flower core and drew circles around it to tease.

"Um… My son… no…" Jeongyeon's body trembled slightly, and the corners of her eyes were filled with confusion. She tried hard not to scream, but every time my fingers brushed the sensitive flesh The core caused her to let out a low moan.

I held the cock that was already ready for battle, rubbed it against the entrance of her flower hole, and then pushed forward with all my strength. "Ah…it's too big…My son…" Jeongyeon finally couldn't help but scream out. She arched her back to bear my fierce attack, and honey juice continued to flow out from the place where the two of them met.

"Mom, you're so tight down there. I've long wanted to fuck you until you lose consciousness." I leaned down and bit her ear, gasping while thrusting vigorously.

"Ah… My son… slow down… I want to be fucked by you…" Jeongyeon's reason has been swallowed up by desire. She twisted her waist to meet my movements, craving like a complete bitch. More.

I hit the deepest part of her hard, each stroke bringing us huge pleasure. Jeongyeon was moaning loudly after being fucked by me. Her whole body was covered with a thin layer of sweat, making her look extremely sexy and sultry.

"Scream louder! I just love hearing my mother scream!" I grabbed her hair and pulled it back, forcing her to look up at me.

Jeongyeon's expression is both painful and happy, and her wet eyes make me feel pity for her, but I can't help but want to destroy her last shred of self-esteem.

"Mom, do you think this is too perverted? You are my mother, but you are doing this kind of thing with me…" I deliberately slowed down and changed to slow friction. Every time I pressed against the most sensitive part, on one point.

"Ah…don't…stop…My son…continue…" Jeongyeon's mind was already in confusion. She shook her head randomly, unable to understand what I was saying.

I quickened the pace again and took all of her wildly. "Mom, do you know who you are having sex with? It's me, your son!" I laughed maliciously, and every time I penetrated her deeper, she moaned louder.

"Oh…My son…I can't stand it anymore…I'm almost there…" Jeongyeon's eyes turned white and she was foaming at the mouth. I knew she was about to climax.

I pushed hard to the end, then leaned on her, sealing her mouth with my lips. Our tongue tips chased and sucked each other, sharing each other's saliva. Jeongyeon's orgasm was so intense that she clutched my back, her nails leaving deep scratches on my skin. I also reached the extreme at the same time and ejaculated a large amount of hot cum in the deepest part of Jeongyeon.

We held each other tightly, enjoying the afterglow of orgasm. Two lines of tears fell from the corners of Jeongyeon's eyes. I don't know whether it was because of pleasure or shame, maybe both. I kissed the corners of her eyes gently, kissing away those tears one by one.

I've been waiting for this day for so long - finally being able to fuck Jeongyeon in my fantasies. Jeongyeon was trembling slightly under me, her lips were slightly open, her eyes were out of focus, and her expression was like that of a girl who had just gone through puberty. This gave me an indescribable sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.

I know that Jeongyeon must be ashamed at this moment, but the more she shows this reaction, the more my desire to conquer is aroused. I raised Jeongyeon's legs again and wrapped them around my waist, and then buried myself deeply inside her again.

"Oh…My son…slow down…I can't bear it…" Jeongyeon begged me to slow down, but I remained unmoved. Instead, I thrust into her deepest parts even more fiercely. "Mom, you're so hot inside, it's like you were tailor-made for me." I smiled proudly, while increasing my speed, thrusting to the bottom every time, feeling the pleasure of her tight muscles wrapping around me.

"Ah… My son… you are too… too big…" Jeongyeon was so fucked that she lost her voice. She tried to raise her neck to escape from my attack but to no avail.

I looked at Jeongyeon's painful expression under me, and I felt an evil fire rising in my heart. She is supposed to be my mother, but now she is like a doll, letting me do whatever I want. This feels so wonderful!

I increased my speed a little more, hitting her G-spot hard every time, causing her to scream again and again. Jeongyeon was fucked so hard by me that she became incontinent, and a warm current surged out of her body, but I continued to fuck her, trying to force out more of her body fluids.

Jeongyeon looked at her hands that were handcuffed to the steel pipe, and then at her son who was raping her, feeling a sense of shame and guilt. But what followed was an unprecedented pleasure - which was completely different from what her husband had given her. Her son's thick, long and powerful flesh blade was raging inside her body, bringing intense pleasure with every blow.

She recalled her married life with my father, a weak man who could not meet her needs no matter what. As time passed, her interest in sex became less and less. It wasn't until my appearance that she rekindled the flame of desire.

Now, she was lying here, being raped by her son, and she was still enjoying the pleasure! This made Jeongyeon feel extremely ashamed, but she couldn't control her body and instead actively catered to her son's attack.

I roughly took possession of every part of her, from her breasts to her thighs, to the center of her body below. There was no part that I missed. Jeongyeon never thought that she would be so addicted to sex, especially when she was possessed by her biological son. I suddenly quickened my pace, and each thrust violently opened her door, reaching the deepest part of her soft flesh. Jeongyeon's reason completely disappeared at this time, leaving only endless desire dominating her. She yelled for her son to push harder and push it all in, not caring what a ridiculous request it was.

"My son…you are so powerful…you are going to break me…" Jeongyeon screamed incoherently. She had lost the ability to think and could only follow her instincts to pursue the greatest pleasure.

I heard her words and was obviously encouraged. I growled and accelerated the rhythm. Each stroke was more ferocious than the previous one, driving straight into the deepest part of Jeongyeon, as if I wanted to fuck the entire body.

"Mom, do you know how much I long for you? I have been imagining the scene now - occupying every inch of your skin, doing whatever I want inside you… Now I finally did it!" I shouted, like It violently fucked Jeongyeon’s pussy like a wild animal.

"Ah…My son…you are so big…I won't be able to do it…" Jeongyeon was so stunned by me that she raised her head, her eyes were blurred, and she was completely lost in the whirlpool of lust.

I looked at Jeongyeon underneath me. This was the image I had been dreaming about for many years - my mother was naked, being held down and fucked wildly by me. The place where she once gave birth to me has now become mine. plaything. This taboo stimulation makes my blood boil. I just want to violate her more fiercely and turn her into my private property.

I picked up Jeongyeon's thighs, folded her into a very aggressive position, and then thrust inside her hard. "Ah——!" Jeongyeon exclaimed, her lower body was completely filled by me, and the deepest part was completely occupied by me.

"Mom, you see clearly, I am inside you now, and we are finally truly one." I showed a proud smile and began to thrust vigorously.

"Oh…My son…you are going to…break me…" Jeongyeon cried. She twisted around desperately to escape my attack, but I held her firmly and refused to let her go. "No, Mom, you are mine now and will never leave." I gasped and sped up, each stroke bringing out more body fluids from Jeongyeon's body, making my pubic hair wet.

"Hmm… My son… you are much stronger than your dad… fuck me… harder…" Jeongyeon was immersed in my offensive. She forgot all shame and just wanted to pursue a bigger one. pleasure.

"Mom, it turns out that you have always wanted me to treat you like this, so let go of everything now, and I will give you an orgasm you have never had before." I smiled proudly, grabbed Jeongyeon's wrist and pulled her up, letting her lean against her. My body takes my fucks.

"Ah… My son… I really can't do it anymore… Where are you going to cum…" Jeongyeon felt my flesh blade expand more and more inside her body, and knew that I was almost there. "Of course, I will cum directly inside you, Mom, I want to fill you with my seed." I accelerated my thrusting, and finally buried it deeply into her bottom, shooting out wave after wave of hot semen on the center of the flower.

"Oh——!" Jeongyeon screamed, completely filled with my heat, and her reason completely collapsed.

I looked at Jeongyeon who was fucked into a daze by me, and the desire to conquer in my heart was satisfied to the greatest extent. From now on, Jeongyeon is no longer my mother, but a woman who belongs to me. I can possess her, manipulate her at any time, and turn her into a sex-chasing machine.

I leaned down and kissed Jeongyeon's lips. Her tongue immediately intertwined with mine, and their fluids exchanged. I slowly pulled out but remained inside her, ready for the next round of fighting.

"Mom, are you ready? We have a whole day ahead," I murmured in her ear as I pushed forward and penetrated her again.

"Ah…My son…don't…" Jeongyeon's body has been toyed with by me until her whole body aches, but I still have no intention of stopping. She didn't know how many times I had cum inside her, and her body was filled with my sticky semen, which even continued to overflow from our joint and wet the sheets underneath her.

"My son… I can't stand it anymore… let's stop, please…" Jeongyeon begged me, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes, but more of them were the remnants of pleasure. "It's impossible, Mom, I'm going to fuck you to the core, and I won't stop until you completely belong to me." I smiled evilly and increased my speed as if I wanted to stuff my whole body into Jeongyeon's body.

"Ah…oh my god…" Jeongyeon shouted in a daze. She desperately grabbed my shoulders to use her strength, for fear that I would knock her apart.

I picked up Jeongyeon's body and turned her over to kneel on the bed. This position raised her buttocks high, making it easier for me to penetrate further. I held Jeongyeon's waist, entered her body again, and then started thrusting hard.

"Mom, do you feel it? I have reached the deepest part of you. I want to take it completely, including your most private part." I growled, pushing against Jeongyeon's heart with every stroke, like As if to open it completely.

"Ah…My son…you are going to fuck me to death…" Jeongyeon cried, she was completely under my control and could only let me do whatever I wanted inside her.

In this way, I continued to fuck Jeongyeon for several hours, until the sunset and shone into the room through the window, I reluctantly withdrew from Jeongyeon's body and unlocked her from the handcuff.

At dinner time, Jeongyeon and I sat down to eat together. On the surface, it looked like normal. But I know that Jeongyeon has not completely let go of the shame and guilt of my raping her. She just doesn't want me to see her weak side.

I gently caressed Jeongyeon's belly, which still contained the bodily cum I had just injected. The blood of the mother and son mixed, forming a twisted connection. "Mom, what do you want to do tonight?" I asked knowingly, but actually I wanted to guide Jeongyeon to give up resistance and obey my wishes.

"…I want to sleep, My son." Jeongyeon replied coldly as if telling me that this is the end of tonight.

I'm a little disappointed, but I also understand that Jeongyeon needs some time to adjust to this new relationship. So I had to let her go and let her go back to her room to rest. At night, while my dad was away at work, Jeongyeon suddenly came to my room with a pair of handcuffs in her hand. I was a little surprised and didn't know what she meant.

"Mom, what are you…" I tried to persuade her to give up this stupid behavior.

"I haven't settled the accounts with you for what happened during the day." Jeongyeon's tone was cold. She grabbed me by the collar and threw me hard on the bed. "Mom, what are you talking about…" I tried to stand up, but saw that Jeongyeon had already handcuffed my wrists.

"Since you raped me during the day, it's my turn to take revenge on you." Jeongyeon looked at me condescendingly, with a trace of madness in her eyes.

I was a little panicked, but I also knew that I couldn't stop Jeongyeon. She quickly took off my clothes, exposing my whole body, then climbed onto the bed, spread my lips with her fingers, and penetrated me unceremoniously.

I tried to resist, but once I was subdued by Jeongyeon, all my efforts were in vain. Her fingers were domineering inside my mouth, roughly exploring every corner, forcing me to serve her. "Well… you learn so fast… good boy." Jeongyeon took out her fingers, which were stained with my saliva. She stuck out her tongue and licked the water on them, her expression showing great enjoyment.

I knew Jeongyeon was trying to humiliate me, but my physiological reaction was out of control. Under Jeongyeon's stimulation, my lower body gradually began to react, and the flesh blade set up a small tent under my shorts.

"Humph, you reacted so quickly? It turns out that you are also looking forward to being violated by me." Jeongyeon looked at me contemptuously, stretched out her hand to touch my cock, and kneaded it through the fabric.

"Um…Mom…don't be like this…" I twisted around in embarrassment, but was pinned down by Jeongyeon on the bed, unable to move.

"Don't worry, I will love you well." Jeongyeon smiled and took off her clothes, revealing her beautiful body.

I stared at Jeongyeon's body closely. She was like a sexy goddess, approaching me step by step, but I was trapped in place, unable to do anything.

Jeongyeon sat astride my thighs, holding my flesh blade with her hands, and slowly sat down after finding the correct position. I only felt a sultry heat wrapping around my front end, and Jeongyeon's body cavity was extremely soft as if my flesh blade had been swallowed alive. "Oh…Mom…it's so deep…" I moaned unconsciously, the pleasure of being completely possessed by Jeongyeon almost overwhelming my reason. "Moan louder, don't hold back, My son." Jeongyeon looked down at me, with the pride of a conqueror in her eyes.

She began to move her waist up and down, allowing my meat blade to move in and out of her body. My cock was lubricated by her nectar, and the movements became smoother. The walls of Jeongyeon's body cavity squeezed my crown, causing a numbing sensation. I couldn't help but gasp loudly.

"Oh…Mom…slow down…" I begged Jeongyeon to slow down. Her fierce attack made me unable to resist.

"No, I want to penetrate you and take all of you." Jeongyeon's voice became hoarse and sexy. She sped up the swing of her waist, and at the same time, she used more force on my cock.

There was a dizziness in front of my eyes, and the pleasure brought by Jeongyeon came in waves like a tide. I couldn't think at all and could only follow my instinctive reaction. My breathing became rapid, my chest heaved up and down, Jeongyeon's fingers twisted my nipples, and the double stimulation of the sensitive parts made me crazy.

"Mom…I'm almost there…" I realized that I was about to cum inside Jeongyeon, but I couldn't control my emotions. "Cum for me, spread all your seeds inside me." Jeongyeon shouted without restraint, and she increased her speed, as if she wanted to drain my whole body.

At the last moment, my sanity was disconnected, I pushed forward with all my strength, and ejaculated inside Jeongyeon. Wave after wave of hot water spurted out, and I felt unprecedented relief, and my whole body was trembling with orgasm.

"Ahh…" Even though I had reached my climax, Jeongyeon had no intention of letting it go. She was still swinging her waist, letting my cock rub and pump inside her. My already extremely sensitive area was stimulated again, and I couldn't help but cry out.

"Mom…that's enough…let me take a rest…" I looked at Jeongyeon helplessly, only to see her eyes were blurred, and the corners of her mouth raised a coquettish arc.

"Look, you're hard again. Didn't you beg for mercy just now?" Jeongyeon held my cock, feeling its hardness and pulse.

I did have feelings again. How could I resist the hot squirming in Jeongyeon's body? But my rationality tells me that if I continue, I will be tortured by Jeongyeon until I become dehydrated.

"I really…can't do it anymore…Mom…" I almost burst into tears. This sex was really beyond my ability to bear.

"Oh? Are you afraid that I'll hurt you?" Jeongyeon raised an eyebrow. She sped up her lower body movements, and my cock rubbed red inside her body.

"No…I'm afraid that I can't bear it…" I confessed frankly that Jeongyeon's skills were so good, she seemed to know how to stimulate me to the maximum extent.

"Don't worry, I will make you so happy." Jeongyeon smiled charmingly, and she increased her speed and intensity, as if she really wanted to torture me to the point of insanity.

My consciousness became increasingly blurred, and all the senses in my body seemed to be focused on my lower body. Every time Jeongyeon fucked me, I was intoxicated. My penis swelled more and more inside her, and the pleasure doubled. I no longer knew what I was shouting, I just kept shaking my head and buttocks in time with Jeongyeon's rhythm.

"Ahhh…I'm going…Mom…" I whimpered, my lower body reached climax again, and a thick white sticky substance spurted out from the cock, and all of it was injected into Jeongyeon's body.

However, Jeongyeon didn't stop, she was still bobbing up and down, and my cock continued to move in and out of her body. My reason has long been far away from me, leaving only the most primitive lust dominating my thinking.

"Mom…let me rest…I really can't do it anymore…" I struggled to get up, but Jeongyeon pushed me back to the bed.

"It doesn't matter, we still have a long time to play." Jeongyeon said with a smile. She increased the pressure of her weight, allowing my cock to go deeper into her body. I felt as if my body was about to be swallowed up by Jeongyeon. The wall of her body cavity was like a huge black hole, sucking in all my energy. My physical strength is draining away, and my mind is drifting away. I am like a toy in Jeongyeon's hands, letting her take whatever she wants.

Jeongyeon's speed is getting faster and faster, and I have feelings again. During this cycle, I didn't know how many times I had ejaculated, nor how much energy I still had. All I knew was that I was becoming addicted to this endless sexual affair and could no longer extricate myself.

"Mom…" I moaned, and another turbulence erupted from my lower body. "So good, You a lot more." Jeongyeon smiled frivolously, lowered her head, stuck out her tongue and swirled it around my nipples. My whole body was shaken, and the pleasure instantly spread to all my limbs. My cock also became erect again, as if it would never tire. "Mom…I'm really going to die…" I cried, but couldn't help but follow Jeongyeon's movements.

"Then you die under me." Jeongyeon said viciously. She sped up her lower body and sucked my nipples harder.

I was completely immersed in this infinite pleasure, as if I was in heaven. I no longer know where I am, and I don't care if I am still alive. I just want more, I want Jeongyeon to bring me endless orgasms.

"Ah…Mom…I'm coming again…" I growled, my body beating fiercely inside Jeongyeon. "Then cum for me, cum all for me!" Jeongyeon shouted wildly. She clasped her legs tightly on my hips and slammed her lower body against my cock.

My sanity finally broke completely, I roared loudly, and once again released a large amount of turbid hot liquid inside Jeongyeon's body. I feel like my cock has become numb. It only knows how to keep twitching and gushing, sacrificing everything it has to Jeongyeon.

In these rounds of sex, I seemed to have lost myself and became Jeongyeon’s exclusive plaything. The only thing I can do is surrender to her and give everything I have…

A whole night passed, and I was tortured by Jeongyeon until I became inhuman. I don't remember how many times I ejaculated, I just felt like my cock was about to explode. Jeongyeon's body was also covered with my seed, and there was thick white fluid inside and outside her body. But she didn't seem tired at all and was even more energetic than before. I was lying on the bed, my eyes were distracted and my consciousness was in a trance. My penis was hanging there limply, covered with traces of our intercourse. "How are you, my good son, are you feeling comfortable?" Jeongyeon climbed on top of me, and she stroked my body with her hands, her tone a bit teasing. I couldn't answer, so I just snorted softly.

"I thought you were going to be drained by me, but it turns out that you look like you are enjoying it." Jeongyeon sneered, and she used her fingers to rub circles on the cock, as if to wake it up again.

I tried my best to turn my head away from her touch. Although the cock has a tendency to rise its head again, I really can't bear it anymore. "Don't…Mom…I really don't have a drop left…" I begged weakly, tears flowing down uncontrollably.

"Oh? Really?" Jeongyeon stared at me playfully, and then suddenly kissed my lips. Her nimble tongue entered my mouth and intertwined with mine. My mind fell into chaos again, and my lower body became erect again uncontrollably.

"You see, you are just a greedy child," Jeongyeon said easily. She stood up, supported my cock and pointed it at her already-soaked pussy. I closed my eyes and waited for the arrival of a new round of violent storms…

From then on, whenever my father went out to work, Jeongyeon and I would have a lot of sex in bed, as if this had become our daily compulsory routine. Jeongyeon became more and more aggressive, trying various ways to possess me, whether it was a normal position or some unspeakable posture, she would try them one by one.

And I have been completely conquered by Jeongyeon. I am addicted to her sex and have become her toy that is ready for use at any time. I catered to her every request without shame and even made some perverted requests to please her.

Our lives seemed to consist only of sex. Except for going to school, we almost stayed in bed and had sex. My grades plummeted, but I didn't care. All I care about is her, my beloved mommy.

[lunajay33]

Struggle🖤

Summary: You always loved azriel but never had the courage to say anything wanting to get to know his culture cassian took you to the Illyrian camps but when you get taken you fall into a dark place only one person might be able to pull you out of

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Warning: Violence

•Masterlist•

“Sweetie you need to tell him you’ve been head over heels in love with him since…..since we’ll forever” mor said as we were sat around the dinning room in the house of wind

“Mor you know I can’t he means everything to me I can’t risk that”

“But he’s your” before she could finish the three boys walked in cutting off our conversation thankfully

“Welcome home boys me and dear y/n here were just discussing how in love she is with…”

“MOR DONT” I yelled out before she could practically ruin my life, I looked back over at the guys seeing a smirk plastered on Rhys and cassians face as Azriel looked anywhere but me

Standing up I brush out my clothes out of nervous habit and turn to cassian

“Umm can I talk to you in private for a moment”

“Well of course darling lead the way” he smirks as he holds his arm out for me, he’s like my brother, my duffis brother, I bring him to my room and I throw myself on the bed and sigh making him laugh as he does the same almost breaking my bed

“So what is it you need sunshine”

“This is a huge favor but seeing as I’d have my big strong protector with me, could you show me the Illyrian camps, I wanna know more about where Az came from”

“Oh I don’t know that’s not a place for a lady, Rhys would kill me”

“But I’ll be by your side the whole time and we don’t have to stay long I just wanna know more about him”

“Here’s a thought how about you just ask him” he pokes

“Cas come on this is hard for me, it’s obviously not snapped for him yet and we’ll maybe if I know more things it’ll somehow snap into place for him, I don’t know it’s silly but it’s worth a shot”

“Ugh fine but only because nesta would kill me if I didn’t try and help you out, she’s got a sweet spot for you”

“Oh thank you so much Cas, I owe you”

The next morning I got ready in some warmer clothes knowing it could get could in the camps and since cas will be flying I’ll need that extra warmth, making my way downstairs I’m stopped by shadows swirling around my hands and through my hair like the occasionally did

“They only do this with you, must be something special about you” I hear from the corner of the dim hallway as Azriel emerges from the darkness, my heart leaping in my chest

“I quit like them, they’re beautiful”

“You think they’re beautiful?”

“Of course they always find me when I’m down and the comfort me, plus they’re from you so they’re pretty terrific” I don’t know where this boldness came from but atleast it made him smile which was a rare sight

“Well Cas is waiting for me but I’ll see you later, bye Az” I said quickly before making my way to cas

“Ready princess”

“Always!”

It was a long flight there and by the time Cas landed he was pretty tired having to carry my extra weight

“Sorry to have to put you through this I know how much you work”

“Don’t worry about it darling, hopefully this’ll work out like you want it too then it’ll be worth it not having to hear you both complain anymore”

“Wait what do you mean both?”

“Come on sunshine time to show you around” he laughs with a mischevious grin

We walked through the camp for a while he showed me where him Rhys and Az would meet up and where they lived, this didn’t go unnoticed by many males of the camp not taking their eyes off of me

“Come to investigate our camps again traitor?” A large Illyrian man groan as he stood with some other males in our path

“Nothing of your concern now move” cassian growled holding me behind him

“And I see you’ve brought us a sweet treat” before I knew it a fight broke out and even though Cassian was strong and great at fighting it was unfair against 5 men, then arms wrapped around me and started to drag me away

“CASSIAN……LET ME GO!” I scream terrified of what was to come

Dragged into a dark room being tied to a metal hot pipe, my arms over extended behind my back as the heat from the pipe burned my skin

“Oh we’re gonna send that high lord a message”

Azriels POV

After my interaction with y/n this morning I’ve been confused, did she have feelings for me too? She was pretty flirty for someone so timid around me usually

I was broken from my thoughts when cassian busted through the door out of breath, bloody and exhausted

“Cas what the hell happened? Where’s y/n?”

“I knew it was a bad idea……she was taken by Illyrian men they jumped me and I couldn’t find her” Rhys quickly entered the room taking my arm and winnow us to the camps

I sent my shadows out hoping to pinpoint exactly where she is, after a moment they frantically swirled back to me, she was in a run down house near by, Rhys followed me no questions asked

Busting down the door I see a group of men alert ready to fight, Rhys and I so full of anger finished them of quickly and painfully until all that was left in the room to hear was her quiet whimpers

Finding her in a dark corner her forearms burned and blistering red, her clothes ripped from her body showing the red angry cuts and whips littering her body, her nose dripping with blood and her one eye black and swollen shut, my heart clenched at the sight knowing I could’ve protected her, if I sent one of my shadows with them none of this would’ve happened and that’s when I felt it, the pull in my chest the one I never thought I’d experience

She’s my mate

Normal pov

I woke up aching all over hearing voices all around me, opening eyes as best I could realizing I could only see out of one, I slowly reached up feeling the swell and pain that coursed through the area

“Thank god you’re awake” I hear next to me as the bed dips and those hands I could never mistake, the hands of the man I love but then memories of the hands that touched me, that hurt me flashed in my mind and I pulled away out of instinct wanting to just curl up and hide away from the world

“Oh darling I’m so sorry, I knew taking you there was a bad decision” cassian said from behind Azriel, I could see the regret written all over his face

“How do you feel?” Mor asked sweeping my hair aside but oddly her touch didn’t make me want to run away

“Hurts” I groaned out my throat hoarse and dry

“You’ve been out for a few days, Majda says your wounds are healing fast so that’s good news” Azriel said seeming nervous but certain wounds I felt would never heal, my heart ached

“Can I just go to my room, I need to be alone”

“Are you sure Angel” if any other time I heard Az call me Angel I’d be jumping with joy but right now I couldn’t feel that, I just nodded as nor helped me sit up and led me to my room, walking slowly feeling ever cut and pain that was inflicted, slowly laying back down in my own bed, it gave some form of comfort knowing I was home

“Do you need anything?” Az asked as I felt his shadows swirl around me basically engulfing me

I shook my head and they left but before Azriel closed the door he left one shadow with me telling me to call for him when I need anything

Then I was alone letting sleep take me over once again

Azriels POV

Seeing her so broken made me feel like I’ve failed her, the inner circle all sat around the table silently all worried about my dear mate

“What the hell were you even doing there?” I groaned asking Cassian

“She wanted to know more about your past, she thought it would help snap the mating bond for you” my heart stopped

“She did this for me, she knew we are mates?”

“She’s known for a while, hell I’m pretty sure she knew immediately from the moment she met you centuries ago, she didn’t wanna pressure you” Mor stated

“Why didn’t any of you tell me, how didn’t I know” the stress now gnawing at my soul

“It was pretty obvious Az, she’d blush anytime you’d walk in the room, or how happy she’d get when you’d come home from a long mission, she loves you so much man” Rhys added

It’s been a week now and she hasn’t left her room I kept checking on her but she never wanted anything, she’s become pale and frail, never showing emotion, sometimes I’d feel a wave of terror down through the bond and I’d always send her back a wave of calm hoping it would ease her

But I couldn’t take it anymore knowing she’s in pain, everyone has tried helping to get through to her in anyway we knew how, I just have to do something

I knocked on the door knowing she wouldn’t respond but still I wanted to give her that respect, slowly I opened the door seeing her in her usual spot sat at the window my shadow swirling around her hands, seemingly mezmorizing her, distracting her from what plagues her mind

“Hey darling, can I sit with you?” I ask approaching her, shivering from the cool breeze from the open window, she nodded and I sat across from her on the window seat, after I took a blanket and draped it over her lap

“Do you want to talk about it, maybe it’ll help ease what you’re feeling” she was silent for a long time just looking at the shadow till I noticed the tremble of her lip

“It hurts Az” she whispered as she curled into herself

“I’m so sorry Angel” I said placing my hand on her leg gently hoping it could ground her in this vulnerable moment

“What they did to me, humiliated me, stripped me naked and beat me black and blue, I can’t even look at my self anymore” she cried finally opening up

“I just wanna be me again, I wanna be happy”

“I’m hear every step of the way but it’s gonna take time Angel, you know we are all here for you, I’m always gonna be here and I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again” she sighed as she leaned forward and laid on her side her head resting in my lap

“Can we just stay here for a moment”

“Anything for you, my beautiful mate”

[featherandferns]

covet (drabble)

jj maybank x fem!reader | short and not exactly sweet ;)

content warnings: sexual content

word count: 4k.

There are certain things on this earth that can soothe the soul. A warm blanket that has a smell which reminds you of childhood; the incessant, repetitive come and go of the ocean waves on a sandy beach; when the sunset hits just so and everything feels at peace. It seems that the warmth of JJ Maybank’s skin against yours brings about that same clandestine peacefulness. You nuzzle your face against his bare bicep. His skin smells of sandalwood and seawater and sunscreen. The coarse hair barely tickles your cheek as you do so, making you smile, sleepy and spent. His breathing is slow and steady, warm air hitting the back of your neck, his head resting just behind your own as his body spoons yours. You shift your feet under the messed covers and feel them brush against your shorts and panties that JJ had almost frantically pulled down your body only thirty minutes or so before. 

You want to talk but aren’t sure if you should. It feels as though there’s this bubble the two of you are held in and if you speak, you might cause it to burst.

JJ has this thing about him. He reminds you of a bonefish: a finicky fish known for being slippery and hard to catch. The fact that you have him here with you, like this, coiled around you the way he is despite the two of you having climaxed over ten minutes ago, feels rare and special. It terrifies you to do something to scare him off after wanting this for so long. After wanting him. 

And yet, despite this, you can’t help yourself. It feels out-of-body when you hear your voice quietly interrupt the silence. 

“Which do you prefer?” you begin to ask. “The sea or the marsh?”

At first you wonder if JJ’s fallen asleep, as his breathing doesn’t stutter and he doesn’t speak a word. 

“Ain’t they the same thing?” he asks, his voice barely above a rasp. 

“No,” you say, “the sea’s bigger and louder. They’re different.”

“Maybe the marsh then.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I like the quiet of the marsh. Feels private and stuff, y’know?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling stupidly to yourself, grateful he can’t see your face. 

There’s some conversations you have in your life which feel as though they guide you and shape you into who you become. Some interactions carry such weight that you want to tether the words together and wear them like a necklace as to never let them drift. You have a notion that this entire night with JJ is that for you. You never want to forget the feeling of his fingers on your body, his mouth on your neck, his tongue on your chest, his arms around your frame, his voice against your pillow, and his answers to your questions. As if deciding this, you push yourself tighter into his hold. He responds easily, his own grip tightening by a slight, and you let your eyes slip shut. 

“You gonna sleep over?” you ask. 

“Maybe.”

That isn’t a no. You smile. It wobbles when he untethers himself from your body only moments later though. At first you think he might be getting more comfortable, but then you feel the mattress dip as he moves to sit on the edge. You sit up, pushing your hair behind your shoulders, and watch as JJ reaches down for his t-shirt. 

“You’re going?” 

“It’s late,” he says, back facing you as he dresses, “and I got work tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you mumble. 

As if sensing your disappointment, once his t-shirt is over his head, he turns to you. A smile slips onto his face easily; it’s charming and disarming. You find your own smile returning at the sight. You feel your heart stutter and body throb as you remember how it felt to be tangled up with him less than an hour ago. JJ reaches out a hand and one of his fingers strokes along your cheek, cupping your chin before letting slip. 

“I’ll see you around though.”

“Okay,” you nod. “You got my number, right?”

“Course,” JJ smiles. He stands, boxers already on, and shucks on his shorts. You stay in spot as if frozen, naked. He checks his hair in the mirror and messes with it a moment before grabbing his keys and phone from your desk. Then he takes the short steps to your bed and plants a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’ll see you,” he mumbles, pulling away, glancing at his phone, probably checking the time.

Then he walks out your room, closes your door, and leaves you in silence. You stare after him somewhat dumbfounded. The stupor ends at the sound of your front door slamming closed (thank God your parents aren’t home) and you sink back into the sheets. The smell of him lingers against the linens: sandalwood and seawater and sunscreen and sweat. You snuggle into the side where he had just laid, as if trying to keep close to him, and let yourself slip off. 

***

Days stretch into one mundane strip of living. You go to work and clock in and clock out. You shamelessly watch your phone; switch it on and off from ‘do not disturb’ and feel the same dulling disappointment when there’s no notification from a certain blonde haired boy. The silence feels almost like a strategy. A way to keep him at the top of your thoughts. You tag along to keggars and parties and surf days with the underlying hope that you might bump into him again. But JJ’s scarce suddenly on the island. As the time passes, you find it harder to remember the pull of his body against yours, and the smell fades from your sheets. It’s like he never existed in your life let alone in your room.

When you agree to join Caitlin to yet another gathering at the boneyard, your expectations are as low as the tide. Two hours in and your cup is empty again. You venture to the kegstand and wait patiently behind the girl in front. A tap of a finger on your shoulder has your head whipping around. 

“Hey,” JJ grins. 

Your smile comes too easy. “Hey.”

“Didn’t know you were here tonight,” he says. 

“Could say the same to you.”

“I’ve been busy,” he hums, taking a swig of his drink.

The girl in front finishes and you shuffle forward, eyes trained mostly on JJ. He’s in one of those muscle-tees - a rather useless piece of clothing - and the same shorts he’d worn when you two had hooked up. Before you can go to refill your cup, he takes it from you and does it on your behalf. It shouldn’t affect you the way it does. 

“So, how you been?” JJ asks, holding your cup out to you. 

“Good,” you say. You feel you shouldn’t mention how you’ve been thinking of him non-stop for the past week. “Working a lot.”

“Seen anyone lately?”

Eyebrows tugging together, you try to track the meaning. “Not really, no.”

“I just, uh, heard you might be hanging with Jamie P.,” JJ says somewhat casually. 

You can’t help but laugh. “No, no. Definitely not.”

“Damn! Not the heat on Jamie P!” JJ chuckles. 

You laugh again and then the two of you share a smile. He holds his cup out half-jokingly and you tap yours against the rim as he says, “well, cheers.”

And from there the night follows a similar to dance to the last time you hung out. Seemingly out of nowhere, JJ approaches, and he talks and he flirts, and you laugh and indulge and try to keep your cool. Just as before, the two of you come to the same fork in the road. Sat on a piece of old driftwood, side by side, practically shoulder to shoulder, JJ nudges his combatboot clad foot against your ankle. 

“So, uh, your parents still away?”

You roll your eyes, smiling. “That was not smooth at all.”

JJ laughs, “what’d you mean!? I think that was pretty good.”

“Mhm,” comes your unconvinced reply. 

Rolling his eyes, JJ now nudges his shoulder against yours. Your face feels burning hot so you opt to study your feet. His gaze on you feels like an infrared light, shining through you, studying your thoughts. Did he know how long you’d wanted him? How long you’d waited for him to notice you? A part of you longed to ask him why. Why now? What made you realise? You don’t, though. Instead, you find some courage and dampen your lips, glancing up at him to meet his eyes. There’s an undercurrent to his: something deep and sensual. You know that look now and can read right through it. It’s the first spark to your kindling. 

“They’re not,” you quietly tell him, replying to his earlier question. 

A small smirk tugs at the edges of his lips. “Ain’t they?”

“Mm-mm.” You shake your head.

JJ’s foot rubs at your lower leg, up and down, slow and without hurry. Maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s his stare, or maybe it’s a combination of everything, but you feel yourself crave it more and more. 

“You wanna get outta here then?” he asks. 

“Okay,” you mumble, smiling shyly.

JJ grins and downs the last of his drink, and you sip away the dregs of yours. Truth was, your cup had been nearly empty for a while, but you were scared he might slip if you left to get a refill. With JJ, you always had to monitor the rod. 

Instead of walking to your house, this time JJ guides you to his bike. He chats as you go, telling you about something that happened at his job at the country club, and something he and John B (his best friend) got up to the other day, and you nod and listen, genuinely captivated by the life he leads. Any insight into his day-to-day living feels like reading a page from the Lord’s diary. You treasure his words and his energy, and his attention most of all. There’s little hesitation when you mount the back of JJ’s bike, wrapping your arms around his middle as he kicks off the stand and revs the engine. A dreamlike haze comes as the two of you dart down the streets of Kildare. When he whoops and hollers you can’t help but giggle, face pressed against his back, once more hypnotised by his whole being. He slows to a stop outside your house and helps you off the bike, and the two of your hands remained tethered as you guide him up to your door. 

The moment you pass through, his lips are on yours, his hands cradling your body like you’re something precious. You’re glad to respond: sighing against his mouth, tongue teasing against his. His fingers are cool on your burning skin, slinking under your shirt and slipping over your bralette. It’s confusing and messy as the two of you stumble along the hallway, giggling when either of you collides with a piece of furniture or trip over a shoe. Soon enough, you’re back in your bedroom. 

And then you’re naked atop of him, and he’s going down on you like it’s his God-given right, and you’re working him to the edge with your hand, pressing tantalising kisses to his neck and earlobe, and the two of you are fucking; a writhing, sweaty mess in your bed. Every noise he makes marks itself against your frontal lobe in permanent ink. Every press of his fingers into your flesh tattoos onto your neurons. Every moment is forever memorialised in your mind. And then it’s all over. He shakes when he comes, panting against your bare shoulder. You daren’t let go of him. All you can seem to think - a rather innocent thought in lieu of what just occurred - is how happy you could make him if he just let you. 

This time, instead of cuddling, you find yourself sitting against him upright. He’s toying with your hair, working it into a braid, and when you complain that you’re cold, he hands you his t-shirt. That and his boxers are the only clothing keeping you apart from being skin to skin. You sigh and relax against him, and he decides to wrap his arms around your front now instead. His voice is warm and cosy like tennessee whiskey when he speaks against your ear, chin settled on your shoulder. 

“You’re something real special, you know that?”

“Shut up,” you mumble, bashful. 

“Nah, I’m serious. Like the smartest chick I ever met.”

“Can’t meet a lot of chicks then,” you try to jest. 

“Yeah right,” JJ snorts.

Something in your stomach shifts at the mixed meaning. Something in your heart makes you overlook it. You bring your hands up to tether your fingers into his, clasping both your hands together over your stomach. Your fingers run over his knuckles; feeling every healed cut and bruising scar. 

“Why me?” 

“Huh?”

“Why me?” you ask, unable to hold off any longer. 

JJ shrugs. “What’s that mean?”

“Like what made you choose me?” you say, not daring to look over your shoulder. 

JJ clears his throat and sniffs, and a pause comes that’s hard to name. “I don’t know. You’re, uh…You’re fuckin' hot for one.”

You laugh quietly at that, the same way JJ does, and you try to tell yourself that that’s reason enough. But it isn’t, and he doesn’t elaborate, and suddenly his hold feels a little less comforting and a little more like a trap. 

***

The seat of the campervan is uncomfortable enough without you writhing in it. JJ kneels on the floor in front of you. His palms are pressed against the inside of your thighs, holding you open, head nestled between them, and you’re doing your damndest to keep still but it’s hard when you’re this close. Half-broken pleas fall past your lips, your head tilted back, eyes slipping open and shut, as JJ eats you out. It’s like some filthy prayer, the sounds the two of you make together, and it makes it harder not to come. It’s not as though you can’t - you just don’t want it to end. 

When JJ pulls away, though, you find it impossible to not fall over the edge. His fingers slip into you all too easily - embarrassingly so - and he sits back on his haunches, wiping the lower of his face clean on the back of his arm as he fingers you. 

“Come on, baby,” he mumbles, watching you. “I know you’re close.”

Your voice cracks when you come and you’re not sure why. 

By the time you’ve caught your breath, JJ’s already back on his feet and heading to the door of the van. You scramble to pull your skirt down as he yanks it open. 

“Where are you going?” you ask. 

“Gotta take the van back to John B’s,” JJ says without turning, jumping out the back of the van. 

You wipe your face and run a hand over your hair, feeling messy and dirty, and follow after him blindly. 

“Can I come with?” 

“Sure, I guess,” he shrugs.

You head to the passenger side and climb in. JJ starts up the engine and the two of you head to John B’s place. Now instead of your moans and JJ’s grunts, the van is filled with noises from the radio. Mindless chatter that you struggle to home in on, body still scrambled from your quick hook-up in the back. As usual, JJ doesn’t make much conversation. You like to think he prefers to observe and sit in a moment, though that feels strange considering how talkative he is around his friends. But if he didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t be. More often than not it was JJ who sought you out and you were more than happy to be found. Reminding yourself of this, you spare him a glance - his eyes trained ahead on the road, a line set on his face for a mouth - and smile smally to yourself. 

John B’s house is a fishing shack on the marsh edge. There’s few lights on from outside at this hour of dusk. The two of you climb out and you follow JJ dumbly to the door, unsure whether to reach for his hand or not. He doesn’t knock. Walks right in as if it’s his home as well and hollers out for John B once he does. You linger in the doorway. 

John B rounds the corner and the two share a bro-style hug, falling into conversation as JJ hands over the keys. You keep your smile steady and hang back, and soon enough John B’s eyes fall on you. As they do, JJ gestures between the two of you. 

“Oh, right, uh,” he says before introducing the two of you. There’s no label prior to your name. Not even friend. You aren’t sure what to make of that and so you don’t make anything of it. You aren’t sure what to make of the look John B shoots to JJ either. Whatever it was, it doesn’t seem to sit well with JJ. He turns to you and wordlessly guides you out the house and onto the porch. The door swings closed. 

“So, uh, listen,” JJ says, glancing back inside briefly. “I’m gonna crash here for the night, yeah?”

“Oh,” you say. “Okay.”

JJ looks at you, briefly scanning up and down. His lips rub together. “So, uh, you’re good making your own way back right?”

“Oh,” you repeat, more stunned this time. 

“I mean, I can give you a ride if you need–”

“No, no, it’s, uh, all good,” you ramble. “It’s not even that late anyway. Or that far.”

“You sure? I mean, I really can if you need me to,” JJ says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I got it,” you smile, fighting back a wince as you do. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

“Yeah, course.” JJ finally seems to find his own smile, and you try to let it reassure you as it had before. You really do try. 

“Well, see you ‘round then,” you awkwardly say, heading down the porch steps.

You begin to walk up the drive and decide to take one last glance back as you do. It’s perfectly in time to see the shutter door close and hear JJ’s loud chatter with John B. When you round onto the road, the silence feels deafening. 

***

The gaps in yours and JJ’s interactions felt familiar now. That was just how you two worked. That’s to say, when he winds up at the restaurant you work at with his friends, you’re taken aback all the same. A smile comes to your features as quick as your heart is beating. You scoop up some menus before anybody else has a chance to and venture over to their table. 

“Hey guys,” you smile. 

JJ’s head darts up at the sound of your voice. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even look happy. If anything, he looks panicked. It feels as though the world tips slightly on its axis. 

You hand out the menus. “You guys need to know the specials today?”

“Yeah, please,” the girl smiles. You recognise her vaguely from school and JJ’s instagram. Kiara, you think her name is. She’s gorgeous: sunkissed and toned, her hair intertwined with tiny braids and wrists decorated with handmade bracelets. She sits in between JJ and John B. 

“We got a Thai chilli salmon today with grits and seasonal veggies, and sweet potato soup with garlic seasoning. Can I get y’all any drinks?”

“Waters would be great,” Kie replies.

You nod and try to catch JJ’s eye before leaving. He’s staring steady at the table. As you fill a jug full of water, you can’t help but glance at the table from time to time. Kiara excuses herself, heading towards the bathroom, and the tone completely shifts. John B grabs JJ by the shoulder and talks to him in a stern manner, though you can’t make out what they say. The other guy (Pope, you think his name might be) nods along emphatically to whatever John B is saying, and with all their attention taken up, you slowly make your way over with the water. 

“It’s fucked up JJ. You gotta tell her before she finds out–”

Pope must spot you in his peripheral vision as his eyes momentarily widen. 

“Water!” he loudly announces. 

John B and JJ quickly break apart. The blonde haired boy looks borderline sheepish as you place the jug down. An uneasy feeling sets in your gut. Kiara returns and joshes them for acting so strange. Nobody laughs and nobody talks. 

“Y’all ready to order?” you ask, pen and pad at the ready. 

“We’ll just do a large serving of your fries and some onion rings,” Kiara replies. 

You scribble it down and nod. You don’t bother trying to catch JJ’s attention this time. Mumbling out a thanks, you head back to the kitchen. Caitlin doesn’t ask questions when you ask her to take over the table for you. It hurts too much to have JJ act as though he doesn’t know you. It feels as though a bird has flown by and erased his memory; cleansed him of all past sins, including you. 

It's an understatement to say it catches you off guard when JJ lingers behind to talk to you after his friends leave. 

“Hey,” he says, leaning against the counter. 

“Hey.”

“I’m, uh, sorry ‘bout that, earlier,” he uselessly apologies. 

“It’s cool.”

“It’s just kinda complicated cause of…Well, you know…”

“Yeah, course,” you mumble, not having a clue what he was meaning. 

“So, yeah, I just think…I think maybe we should dial it back a bit,” JJ not-so-delicately says. 

Your brows tug together. “What are you talking about?”

“Just us. Y’know, this thing? I think it’s kinda run its course. Done what it needed to do and stuff, don’t you think?”

You stare at him a moment, completely baffled. It feels as though he’s spent the past month building you up, working you onto pedestals, only to tear them down from beneath you and watch you fall. You sort of hate yourself for not asking for more of an explanation. Instead, almost stupefied, you nod. 

“Yeah, uh, okay.”

JJ grins, bright and happy, seemingly pleased by the amicable conclusion. His knuckles rap lightly against the counter in farewell. 

“I’ll see you around then,” he says, already starting toward the door. You don’t even bother trying to reply. 

***

There are certain things on this earth that can soothe the soul. A warm blanket that has a smell which reminds you of childhood; the incessant, repetitive come and go of the ocean waves on a sandy beach; when the sunset hits just so and everything feels at peace. But the relaxing lap of the tide and the tangerine skyline does little to ease the rising concoction of emotions climbing up your throat. Some intoxicating combination of anger and jealousy and hurt - so much hurt - as your eyes settle in on JJ.

It shouldn’t surprise you all that much. He isn’t known for being loyal, or committed, or even present. JJ had a reputation that was hard to shake, and whilst some of it was thanks to his father, some of it was thanks to him. It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. Maybe it’s because of who he’s with. Maybe it’s because it’s Kiara who’s hanging on his arm, laughing at his jokes, leaning on him like you got to do for a handful of weeks. Maybe it’s because you know how long JJ and Kiara have been friends, and how this doesn’t feel meaningless. If anything, it feels the opposite. 

Those feelings fester inside of you. Bury deep in your stomach and poison your mood. Hurt of that kind does things to a girl. It makes them bitter and vengeful, and suddenly karma becomes your kink. You stand on the far side of the beach with your friends, tuned out of the conversation, gaze set on JJ. He must feel it. It isn’t exactly a stare, there is little malice in your eyes, but it’s steady-set like an eagle watching prey. When JJ glances over and meets your line of sight, you can’t seem to look away. You want to do something hurtful to him, something savage and cool, but you can't find it in yourself. All you can remember is how he smells: sandalwood and seawater and sunscreen.

Kiara presses a kiss to his cheek as she breaks off to grab a refill and you find yourself following her course. It shouldn’t bring you as much joy as it does knowing JJ can’t do anything but watch. 

The two of you arrive at the keg at the same time. She catches sight of you and smiles. Greets you and double checks your name, smiling moreso when she gets it right. 

“So, you and JJ, huh?” you lightly ask, filling your cup. 

This dopey smile flashes across her face as she glances over her shoulder to him. You feel sick and pray it doesn't show. “Yeah. It’s pretty new.”

“I’ll say,” you reply. Only last week, he had his head between my thighs. “He’s sweet though, right?”

“Yeah,” Kie chuckles, sort of rolling her eyes. “When he wants to be.”

As she fills up her cup, you look over her shoulder to JJ. He's watching the interaction like his life depends on it. Maybe it does. He gives a slight shake of his head. It’s subtle but it’s enough.

Kiara stands tall once more and you casually tap the rim of your cup against hers in a mock cheers, just as JJ had done to you a couple of weeks prior. She smiles at you. 

“We should hang out more, y’know,” she says to you, taking a swig of her drink. “You’d get along good with JJ, I bet.”

You just nod.

“Well, I better head back,” Kiara says in farewell. She wanders back to JJ. 

You stand steady and watch them reconnect. Watch how she wraps her arms around his shoulders and falls into conversation with John B. Watch how his arm stays steady held around her waist as she does: the quiet possessiveness and protectiveness that comes with such an action. It fills you with a confusing influx of emotions.

But you’ll never talk about it. Don't need to. It's pretty clear, here and now.

August was a placeholder for JJ. You were the ideal distraction from the girl he wanted the most. So blinded in your infatuation, so obvious in your obsession, that JJ could get his affection temporarily from another. But you don’t really have a basis to be angry, do you? After all, how can you lose something that was never truly yours. 

[writinginfinite]

we've been caught, might as well post it pt. 2

pt. one

remember when we started our relationship? You made me promise we would never go to bed upset. I know you’re not upset, but you’re probably confused or second-guessing everything

As you stepped off the elevator, the tension between you and Lewis eased; it was now a mix of anticipation and excitement. The two of you had just taken a significant step in your relationship. But despite that, there was still a nagging thought in your head: how long could you maintain your anonymity? You loved your career, having worked hard to be promoted to an executive position just months ago. You hadn't done all that work just to become known as "Lewis Hamilton’s girlfriend." 

“What’s going on in that head of yours? And don’t lie to me,” Lewis asked, setting the shopping bags down. You let out a deep breath as you walked slowly toward him, craving some reassurance.

With your arms wrapped around Lewis' waist, you mumbled into his chest, “Who said I was going to lie?” He gently lifted your chin, wanting you to meet his gaze, but you kept your eyes closed, not ready to face those familiar brown eyes just yet.

“Because I know—” 

“Yeah, yeah, you know me better than I know myself,” you interrupted, finishing his usual line. 

“Well, if you know that, why would you even think about lying to me?”

You let out a groan, signaling he won. “It’s just… Lewis, I…”

Words failed you as you finally looked into his brown eyes, feeling even more vulnerable and becoming distressed. 

“Let’s go shower and talk about this in bed,” Lewis suggested.

“It’s almost twelve-thirty in the morning. Let’s shower and talk about it later,” you countered.

Lewis quickly dismissed your suggestion, and you knew he was right.

“Remember when we started our relationship? You made me promise we would never go to bed upset. I know you’re not upset, but you’re probably confused or second-guessing everything. We’re not sleeping until we discuss this.”

“Now let’s go. I’ll start the shower. We can also wash your hair while we’re in there,” Lewis said, placing a kiss on your lips before walking away, not giving you a chance to protest.

//

You sat in bed, tapping on your phone as you waited for Lewis to join you. You were distracted until you saw a familiar tattooed hand gently grab your phone out of your hand. “Hey, I don’t want you reading social media yet, especially before we discuss everything.”

“Wait, give it back. I wasn’t looking at social media. I wanted to deactivate my LinkedIn. You can call me paranoid later.” LinkedIn was the only public account you had, detailing everything about your career and past—at least professionally. You wouldn’t put it past anyone to use any means necessary to figure out who you were.

Hearing the worry in your voice, Lewis immediately handed your phone back. “I understand. Let me finish getting ready, and I’ll be right back. Don’t fall asleep on me.” 

After ensuring your LinkedIn was deactivated, you double-checked to make sure your only other social media account, Instagram, was set to private. You also decided to change your profile photo, replacing a picture Lewis had taken of you at dinner with an off-guard shot he had taken of you admiring the sunset on the beach. 

As you placed your phone back on the nightstand, you began to wonder if this type of paranoia would become your new normal. 

“You know you can’t expect all the worries to disappear hiding under the blankets,” Lewis said as he got into bed with you. 

“Why can’t we just talk about this in the morning?” You questioned as you clinched the covers even closer to you. 

You suddenly saw a peak of light come under the covers. “Fine, if you wanna hide under the blankets, I’ll join you. But we’re not running away from this. Please look at me, tell me what’s in your head, my love?” Lewis said as he slid under the blankets next to you. 

This man knew what to say to make your worries melt away. Someone could tell you the world was ending, and all you had to do was look into those brown eyes and hear Lewis’ voice, to calm down. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look into those brown eyes just yet. You needed to get everything out first. 

“Lewis,” you whispered his name into the covers. “I’m afraid. Of what, I’m not sure yet. I love you with every fiber of my being Lewis and trust you completely. It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s what outside our home I’m worried about. The things outside of my control. I’m scared of losing everything I’ve built up for myself. But God knows I want everyone to know the man I love.”

Finally, finding the courage to turn and look into those brown eyes filled with curiosity, you murmured, holding back tears, “It’s just that everyone already knows everything about the man I love.”

Lewis stared at you with a mix of empathy and protectiveness. His hand gently caressed your cheek. “Hey, listen to me,” he began softly. “People think they know everything about me, but they’re strongly mistaken. They know the driver, the public figure, what I choose to portray to them on the weekends. But they will never know me the way you do. They don’t know how I sing off-key in the shower or how I arrange my things in a certain order. They don’t know how badly I want to hear your voice or see you run in my direction and wrap your arms around me during a race weekend. Or how I love coming home, because seeing you calms me more than anything else ever could.”

Lewis brushed away a tear that fell from your eye. “Everything you just told me is 100% valid. Your happiness and sense of security are my number top priority. I don’t want you to worry because you know I will do everything in my power to protect everything you’ve built up. But most importantly, I’ll protect you. Love, I’m so proud of you. You’re my entire world.”

Lewis' voice was filled with tenderness. “I want to show you to the world. But I respect your boundaries, and we’ll only do so when you’re ready. Until then, it’s just us. Our love doesn’t need to be displayed to be real. It’s in every moment we share, every look, every touch.”

He leaned in and kissed your forehead. “We’ll take this at your pace. Never forget, I love you more than you’ll ever understand. I’ll be right here, every step of the way.”

“Okay,” was all you could say, mustering up a smile. This man did it again. 

“There’s that smile I love to see. Seriously, are you sure you’re okay? You’re not rushing because you want to go to bed?” Lewis questioned, refusing to go to bed until he knew things were completely fine between you both. 

“You told me what I needed to hear, and I trust everything you’ve said. In all honesty, I’ve trusted everything you’ve ever told me. Never have you given me a reason not to doubt you. I love you, Lewis,” you said, reassuring him. This time, you were the one to initiate a kiss. “Let’s go to bed now,” you pleaded because you were struggling to keep your eyes open. 

“Yes, come here,” Lewis said, pulling you closer and onto his chest. “Don’t need you grumpy while doing your hair later,” he mumbled. You were too tired to come up with a response, so you playfully kicked his leg, and the rest was a blur.

//

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, the memories of hours ago slowly coming back to mind. You reached for your phone to check for any new notifications, but your phone was gone. All you found was your charger and a note with familiar handwriting.

“Good morning, my love. Looking for your phone? It’s in the kitchen with me. I don’t want you reading anything yet; you have a lot to do and are easily distracted …” 

You playfully rolled your eyes at that part. As the note continued, it read, “Don’t roll your eyes because you know I’m right. Now go get ready to start your day.”

“This man, MY man,” you said as you got out of bed, placing the note back on the nightstand. 

As you walked into the master bathroom, you saw a set of clothes laid out - the type of old clothes you wore just for hair wash day. An old t-shirt of Lewis and a pair of lounge shorts, with another note on the counter. 

“Breakfast is ready when you are. I’m downstairs. Also, check the second bathroom when you walk down the hall before coming downstairs,” 

You were at a loss for words. No matter how much Lewis had done for you, he always surprised you. You went through your daily routine and then put on the clothes Lewis had laid out for you. This time, you grabbed the note and walked over to place it on your nightstand with the first one. 

As you walked down the hall, you noticed the light was on in the second bathroom. It was odd because Lewis rarely kept on lights if no one was in the room, but then you remembered the note. As you walked in, you blurted out, “Aww, Lewis!” 

It was the simplest gesture. In the bathroom, he had laid out everything you’d need to braid your hair, along with your iPad set up with your comfort show - the one you always rewatched when you were doing your hair. 

You turned off the bathroom light and hurried down the stairs into the kitchen. There, you found Lewis with headphones on, making a cup of tea. You carefully tapped him to warn him of your presence, not wanting the hot tea to spill on either of you. 

Once he put the hot cup down, he turned around and removed his headphones. You then wrapped your arms around his waist, repeating, “I love you. I love you. I love you,�� with your voice cracking. 

It was something so simple, but it gave you the extra reassurance you needed that everything he told you last night was true. 

“Well, good morning,” was all Lewis could say before you stood on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Yes, I rolled my eyes at your note,” you stopped him. 

Lewis then picked you up and placed you on the counter. “Oh, so you saw your notes and followed directions for once,” Lewis playfully teased. 

You tilted your head, questioning what you just heard. “For once? I always follow -" You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Lewis tilted his head, knowing what you said wasn’t true. 

“Well, okay, that one time when we -“ 

“Just one occasion you can remember? Want me to try and bring back some memories?” Lewis said as he grabbed you again, throwing you over his shoulder. 

“No, no, no,” you protested. “Okay, you’re right. Put me down, Lewis,” you laughed, kicking your feet in the air trying to fight his grip. 

“That’s what I thought,” Lewis said as he softly tossed you on the couch, now laying on top of you. 

He stared at you for what felt like hours but was only seconds before asking the same question he asked before bed last night, “Are you sure you’re okay?” while trying to read your face. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Well, not really,” you said, causing Lewis to sit up with a face of worry. “I'm not fine because I’m really hungry,” you finished your statement. This caused a sigh of relief from Lewis, followed by a laugh and now tickles. 

“Mercy, mercy, mercy,” was all you could say between squeals before Lewis stopped and sat you up, placing you on his lap. 

Lewis held your face in his hand, saying, “Well, I made you breakfast and tea, which is probably cold now. I can remake it if you’d like?” 

“Lewis, they make these things called microwaves. I will be fine.” 

“Feeling smart-mouth, are we this morning?” Lewis said with a quizzical look. “I’m kidding. I know your hair is an all-day affair, so I purposely planned my meetings for today, which may be an all-day affair because you know what next week is.” 

You let out a sigh, remembering the next three weeks were a triple header. Spanish, Austria, then Silverstone. Three weeks where you would only see Lewis over FaceTime, waking up and going to sleep in an empty bed and quiet house. Last year it was rough, but especially now that you’re living together in this big house, you knew it would be tougher. 

“Hey. Let’s take it day by day. I’m not leaving yet, so let’s not think about that. Getting grumpy for no reason,” Lewis said before kissing your forehead. 

“Now it’s 7:30 and my meetings start in thirty minutes. I’ll sit with you while you eat. Come on,” Lewis said, while guiding you back to the kitchen. 

“Can I please have my phone? I don’t care about reading things online. I wanted you to pick my braids.” 

“It’s over there on the countertop. Let me grab it. You eat.”

You had more messages than normal, but quickly swiped past them and to your photos. You gave Lewis two options: boho knotless braids or butterfly locs. 

He swiped between the two photos before deciding on the boho knotless braids, which you were hoping would be his first choice. 

As you got up to put your dishes in the sink, Lewis stopped you to take them from you before handing you your phone back.

“I got this. Go start on your hair. If you need anything, text me. I’ll be in my office for the majority of the day. Also, I already prepared lunch and started dinner. Don’t ask how long I’ve been up, sweetie.” Lewis placed a kiss on your lips before heading down the hall to his office. 

//

“You were right. Not using my phone helped me finish my hair in record time,” you said to Lewis as you both sat on the couch, eating ice cream before bed. 

“See, I told you. So, you can admit, I’m right- you are easily distracted,” Lewis responded with a smirk. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. You told Lewis to stay put while you went to wash the final dishes you two had used. 

As you were putting the dishes away, you heard Lewis’ voice from a distance say, “It’s mostly all positive online. And don’t worry, no photos of you have been found. It’s all ‘Respect their privacy’”

"That's nice to know," you said while closing cabinets.

“The few people we’ve told, I’ve reminded them to not say a word. And I know we can trust them,” Lewis said, with him now behind you. 

“I know. I saw our friends’ texts and reminded them as well. I’m taking your word for it. I’m not going online anytime soon. I’ll be fine, Lewis. We’ll be fine,” you said, turning around to embrace him in a hug. You needed it because you knew in just a day he’d be off again, this time for a while. 

// SPANISH GP

You decided to work from home this Thursday, sitting in Lewis’ office even though you had your own. It had only been a couple of days since he left, and you started to wonder how you’d survive another 23 days without seeing him. You tried your hardest to never miss an opportunity to see Lewis on television.

It was super early, the sun barely up, and you hadn’t even turned on your laptop for work. Instead, you sat in Lewis’ office chair, watching the drivers’ press conference. You were wearing one of the many sweatshirts Lewis “mistakenly” placed in your closet before he left.

You took a quick selfie with his desk in the background. “Good afternoon, my love. Like my setup? Also, you ‘mistakenly’ left a couple of your sweatshirts in my closet when putting away laundry. So I’m claiming them for now. I love you and miss you.” You hit send before realizing the press conference had just started.

Lewis never had his sound on during these events, so you weren’t worried about him seeing it.

But you were wrong.

You watched live as Lewis pulled his phone out of his pocket. You looked at your phone as the message now said, “Read.”

You could see Lewis clicking on the photo, zooming in to figure out where you were. A huge smile formed on his face.

You thought Lewis was about to say something but realized he hadn’t heard the question. You frantically texted him, “LEWIS!!! They just asked you about your odds at Spain this weekend.”

Lewis could sense your panic through your text and was laughing, putting his phone on his lap. He was always calm when you felt he should be stressed.

As Lewis was picking up the mic, it picked up him whispering to himself, “Is she in my office? She found them,” before speaking directly into the mic, “I’m sorry. Did someone ask how I feel about my odds at Spain this weekend? I'm sorry I missed the question.”

The reporter responded, “Yes, that was the question. But if you want to tell us who’s in your office and what she found, that’d make for better reporting.” There was no hint of joking in the reporter’s voice. This reporter was known for trying to push Lewis’ buttons.

Your heart sank. You just hoped the man wouldn’t get to Lewis and that he wouldn’t say anything that would give them clicks.

The once joking face on Lewis turned serious. He moved to the edge of his seat. “Watch it. Don’t speak on her again.” The reporter retorted with, “We’ll figure out who, sooner or later.” You knew this had struck a huge nerve. Lewis said he’d protect you, and just days after that promise, people were coming for you.

You quickly typed out, “Lewis, please don’t give in. Ignore him, please. You’ll give them what they want. I’m fine. We’re fine. We’ll discuss this later. We’ll do this on our time.”

As Lewis was about to raise the mic to speak, his phone vibrating stopped him. You saw him read over your text, and you watched him nod his head, signaling he got your message.

“We’ll do this on our time. Now, to answer your question…” You were relieved when you heard Lewis move on.

All you could think was, “We’ll have to do this earlier than hoped.”

Immediately following the press conference, you received a text from Lewis. “I’m calling you in a few minutes.”

No “My love” or greeting—just a straightforward message. He was pissed.

//

You sat on FaceTime with an apologetic Lewis, trying to reassure him you were fine. It wasn’t a lie—he had done exactly what you’d hoped, keeping your name out of the press until you were ready.

“Silverstone,” you blurted out, confusing Lewis.

“Yes, Silverstone is the last race before I come home.”

“How about we make this known at Silverstone? We said we’d do this at our pace, and I don’t want it happening outside of our control. I want us to do it. So, Silverstone. I can come there on race day.”

For the first time in your relationship, you left Lewis speechless.

“Did you lose service? Are you still there?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush this. I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“Lewis, I promise you, I’m fine. I want to do this now. How about this: if you’re on the podium, I’ll be there waiting for you. Otherwise, we’ll keep things under wraps.”

“As if I needed any extra motivation to get a win or be on the podium. I’ll get things together; you focus on work. I’ll keep this as low profile as possible. I love you so much and can’t wait to see you. And, hopefully for the first time, have you there after a win or podium.”

// SILVERSTONE

You sat in the Mercedes hospitality area, trying your hardest to blend in as a fan on a solo trip. “Come on, Lewis,” you kept saying as he tried to overtake for P2.

The only person who knew who you were was Rosa, the one person in the garage Lewis trusted to stay silent.

You, along with everyone in hospitality, clapped with excitement as you saw Lewis pull into P3 in parc ferme. You looked down at your phone to see a text: “It’s Rosa. Meet me at the exit. I’ll walk you to the team. You’ll need more credentials. He did it! I know he can’t wait to see you!”

You quickly got up, straightened your dress, and found Rosa. In hand, she had your extra credentials and walked you to the front of the barricades, to the confusion of the team members.

As Lewis made his way to the team, he made eye contact with you.

“You’re here!” Instead of jumping towards his team, he grabbed you into a hug, slightly picking you up. At that moment, everything went silent—it was just you and him. You couldn’t let go, but you knew you had to.

You were up front as you watched the podium celebration. Cameras were in your face as Lewis was handed his trophy, but you didn’t care. You weren’t worried if people figured out who you were anymore; all that mattered was that you could finally celebrate alongside him.

Once the podium celebration was over, Rosa quickly grabbed you and took you back to Lewis’ motorhome. She tried to be discreet, but there was no hiding you anymore. You followed her, giving her a hug as you walked, finally introducing yourself.

“Trust me, I know who you are. I’m the only person he talks about you to, and all I can say is, this man loves you.”

“He should be inside. I’ll leave you two,” Rosa said before walking off.

You walked in to see Lewis sitting on the couch, changed into a team shirt and pants before heading to his final press conference. He immediately jumped up to hug you, whispering words of affirmation.

“You did it! At your home track as well!” You couldn’t stop smiling. “You have a press conference to go to. I’ll be here when you get back!”

“I love you,” Lewis said before running out to the press conference.

// PRESS CONFERENCE

You sat on the couch, watching the press conference. Lewis started off by saying, “Yes, that was her. That’s all I’ll say about her until she’s ready.”

//

author's notes: part two of "we've been caught, might as well post it" sorry imagine part x is taking awhile.

3.8K words. need to proofread again.

[venus-haze]

Watch Honey Drip, Can't Keep Away (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: America’s golden son can't keep his eyes off of you, almost like he wants to devour you whole...or something like that.

Note: Female reader, but no descriptors are used. This is kind of in the same universe as She’s Out To Please, She Pouts Her Best. I know generally men in the ‘40s, let alone Soldier Boy of all people, wouldn’t really consider going down on a woman, but it’s my fic and I get to decide he eats out. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Period typical misogyny, power imbalance. Explicit sexual content involving masturbation and oral sex (f. receiving). Do not interact if you’re under 18.

“Which city are we going to next?” you asked, finally comfortable in the swanky hotel room in Chicago you were roomed in with three other girls from the troupe. Soldier Boy’s Sparkling Sweethearts. People came from miles around to show their patriotism–and get a look-see at the acts. If it weren’t Soldier Boy, it was you and the other Sweethearts. Something for everyone, really. Even in places like–

“Wichita.”

A collective groan filled the space, littered with makeup and dresses that’d inevitably shoved into suitcases in a hurry the moment of checkout. There were more important things to worry about than being organized.

“Better than wherever the hell we were last week. Couldn’t get enough of us on Saturday, and then nearly ran us out with pitchforks after the preacher was through with them Sunday morning.”

“I’m going down to the bar while we’re still in a hotel that has one,” you said. “I’ll be back later.”

“Not if Soldier Boy’s there.” A giggle tore through the room. “Did you see him earlier? He looked like he could eat you alive.”

You weren’t even supposed to have been up there with Soldier Boy during his act, a routine that showed off his powers and preceded his usual rousing speech to get the American public to open their hearts and wallets to the war bonds drive. But Darla had broken her leg while ice skating on a day off in Milwaukee, and Soldier Boy had specifically asked for you to fill her spot.

Your role involved memorizing a few lines from a script and looking pretty while Soldier Boy understandably took the lead, but your “rehearsal” just hours before was little more than going through your lines once before Soldier Boy poured you a shot to “calm your nerves” and spent the following fifteen minutes fucking your mouth before sending you off to get ready for the show. 

Walking up on that stage again after your usual routine with the Sparkling Sweethearts was nerve-wracking. Though you knew what to expect, you still felt like your heart was going to pop out of your chest every time he lifted you above his head or tossed you up in the air and caught you, to the raucous applause and cheers of the Chicagoans and celebrities who’d packed the theater to see him.

“Betty Grable’s in town, so I think she’s the main course,” you said as you left, closing the door behind you and leaving your coworkers to tease you in private.

Among the various hobbies you’d taken up since becoming a Sparkling Sweetheart, people-watching in hotel bars was one of your favorites. He would almost always be there too, an otherworldly presence with an abundance of movers and shakers rotating in his orbit, unable to resist the pull of America’s golden son.

Some of the girls in the troupe didn’t care for him, found him too brash and handsy. You could think of at least one who’d been unceremoniously replaced after loudly complaining one too many times. No one really knew what the extent of his powers were, but after that incident, you suspected enhanced hearing might be among them. Or someone was just a snitch. 

When you stepped into the bar, a quick scan of the room revealed Betty Grable to be nowhere in sight. You didn’t see Soldier Boy either, until a deep voice wrapped around you like velvet.

“There’s my girl.”

“Who, me?” you asked teasingly.

“‘Course you are, honey.”

“Because I heard Betty Grable’s in town—“

He scoffed. “That broad? Who needs her?”

Your chest filled with pride at his statement. She was the pin-up girl of choice for every GI in Europe and the Pacific. Well, almost all of them. His arm settled around your waist as he told the bartender to give you whatever you wanted. The overhead lights in the bar were nice and low, you felt warm beneath Soldier Boy’s gaze. Being the object of his attention always carried weight. He was the world’s first superhero, after all. A living legend. Plenty of other women he could be spending his time with besides you.

Pressing your lips to his cheek, you whispered a ‘thank you’ for the drink, taking in the way he licked his lips, his handsome face so close to yours, still under the slight cover of the shadows. Whoever decided a helmet that covered half of his face would be part of his costume needed serious help. 

“Y’know, if you hadn’t come down here, I might’ve gone up to your room and dragged you out,” he said, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “It’s like you were shakin’ your ass just for me on that stage.”

“It’s called shimmying, and I’m glad you liked it.”

“I was thinking, how about you replace Darla for my act?”

“Permanently?”

“Sure, we’ve got great chemistry,” he said, squeezing your hip, “on and off stage.”

As the night progressed, your conversations with Soldier Boy were interrupted by the slew of people who recognized him, excitedly introducing themselves and asking for a few minutes of his time. He graciously accepted with a ‘You don’t mind, right honey?’ And you shook your head, watching him humor politicians, business moguls, and socialites.

You smiled when the latest one had made their departure, tilting your head the slightest bit. “Do you even remember what my name is?”

“Honey suits you better,” he said, his tongue darting out between his lips. “Bet you taste like it too.”

“You sure?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“I guess so.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, passing you his room key. “You go make yourself comfortable while I close out my tab.” 

As if he’d even be paying for the drinks himself. It’d probably be billed to the Department of Defense, or that strange company that sponsored the tour. You didn’t pay much attention to who was signing your checks, just that they cashed out when you brought them to the bank.

You balked at his hotel room, far more space than a single man could possibly need. Then again, he rarely spent his nights alone. 

Comfortable. Ridding yourself of your clothes, you climbed into the giant bed, pulling the covers just over your breasts. As you laid back on the plush pillows, you recalled earlier that day when he had swatted your ass as you walked off stage after your act with him was finished, playing it off as a joke to the crowd who cheered and whistled. The simple yet slightly painful gesture had gone straight through you, however, and you worried that there’d be a noticeable wet spot on your satin panties when you and the other Sparkling Sweethearts returned for one last routine to close out the show, your high kicks telling on you.

Biting your lip, you glanced at the door and slipped a hand between your legs. He had only said to make yourself comfortable, nothing specifically about waiting. Gently prodding two fingers against your pussy, you weren’t surprised to find that you were wet already. Your eyes fluttered shut as you pushed your fingers inside, thinking about how his hands felt on you earlier. Strong and steady, big hands that could break you so easily but didn’t.

“Couldn’t wait?” He stood at the end of the bed, fully clothed with his arms folded over his broad chest as he pinned you in place with his disapproving glare.

You gasped, pulling your hand from between your legs. “I was just–”

He clicked his tongue at you, though his eyes betrayed his amusement. “My fault for keeping you waiting too long, doll.”

Soldier Boy joined you on the bed, pulling back the covers you’d pulled over your bare body. He pressed his lips against yours, kissing you with an overwhelming fireceness as he groped your breasts, squeezing down your stomach to your hips and finally your thighs. His lips followed that same path, kissing and biting along your skin that suddenly felt feverish beneath his touch. Still, your pussy ached for him, especially since he had walked in while you were pleasuring yourself, but he wasn’t paying any mind to it.

Until he dipped his head down, licking your wet cunt. In your shock, you pushed your thighs together, as if his intrusion were unwelcome. 

His strong hands held your legs apart, gently squeezing the tender flesh. “I jerked off thinking about this earlier, but nothin' like the real thing, huh?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes focused on the ornate ceiling. Gold leafing, a Renaissance-esque painting, surely Soldier Boy didn’t care much about that. 

“Eyes on me, honey. You got that?”

Immediately, you looked at him, his blazing green stare burning through you until you nodded. He wasted no time in burying his face between your legs, his tongue flicking against your clit with such force that you realized you had no idea what getting eaten out by a superhero would actually entail. 

He lapped at your pussy with an insatiable fervor that made your legs shake beneath his steady grip. Your moan caught in your throat when he plunged his tongue deeper into you, his nose brushing that sensitive bundle of nerves he’d already teased. 

A whine tore from your throat when he pulled away for a moment, smugly admiring your glistening sex. His lips appeared coated in your juices, and you nearly came at that sight alone.

“Fuck you’re soaked,” he growled appreciatively. “This all for me?”

Who else? As if any other man could make you feel pleasure so intensely, as if that were yet another superpower of his. For a moment you bemoaned a possible future of unsatisfying sex with some regular old Joe–not America’s hero, its fucking sex symbol. But all you could manage was a weak, “Yes.”

Satisfied with your response, he closed his plush lips over your clit, sucking on it like he was pulling from a cigarette, your arousal burning deep in his lungs. You grabbed at the sheets, digging your hands into them as you grind your pussy against his face. Your eyes fluttered shut for a split second, shooting open when he smacked your thigh. Eyes on me.

“Fuck—Soldier Boy,” you moaned. “‘m close.”

He growled against you, the vibrations from his throat edging you closer to orgasm. His inhuman stamina meant he hadn’t given you much of a break since he lowered his face between your thighs. He’d been content to tease you for a while, but he seemed more focused, intentional with the way he ate you out, his attention especially focused on your clit. 

You could feel it, that tightness in your abdomen that was about to snap. Involuntarily, your eyes fluttered shut, and you were on that stage again, in his big arms, bright lights blaring as you stared dreamily at him. Then he threw you in the air, higher and higher until you came back down and–

“Soldier Boy, oh my god–don’t fucking stop,” you pleaded, riding out your orgasm on his face.

His hands held down your bucking hips, your ecstasy overpowered by his determination to bring you over the edge until you were an incoherent mess, muscles aching at the exertion of each orgasm despite him doing all of the work. Light-headed, seeing stars, you reached down, tugging at his hair. That was it. You were tapping out. Mercy.

He granted such, though he pressed sloppy kisses to your inner thighs, nipping at the tender skin. All you could give him was weak moans in return. If you expected to be able to go anywhere else the rest of the night, he’d made damn well sure you couldn’t so much as move from his bed. Maybe that was the idea.  

Your breath caught in your throat when he lifted his head, wiping his glistening lips with the back of his hand, though the evidence of your orgasms was still all over the rest of his face. He kissed you, the foreign taste of yourself filling your mouth, sending a deliciously obscene rush through you. His mouth broke from yours, just for a moment, as he whispered your name against your lips. You realized you didn’t actually know his.

[dolliethv]

"34+35"

summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! a little smut, inspired by Ariana Grande's song "34+35" enjoy it!! xoxo.

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!

Word count: about 1,4k

The clock struck 2:30 AM, but the night was just beginning for them. In the small apartment in London the rain slid down the windows creating an intimate atmosphere that enveloped them. They had planned to "watch a movie," although both knew it was just a pretext.

Jude Bellingham, a well-known footballer, lay back on the bed, his tight shirt revealing every line of his muscles. You, a fashion design student, had carefully chosen your outfit: comfortable, but revealing enough to spark the imagination, a loose shirt of Jude's and just your underwear. From the moment your eyes met, you both knew the real attraction of the night wasn't on the screen.

You lay on the bed, your legs casually crossed, but you knew exactly how to draw his attention. Jude watched you, his dark gaze full of intentions you couldn't ignore.

"Are you sure you want to watch a movie?" he asked, with a mischievous smile, leaning in so his lips were dangerously close to your ear. "Because I have better ideas for how to spend the time."

You smiled, feigning disinterest as you toyed with the remote. "Oh, really? And what would you suggest?"

He raised an eyebrow, his fingers brushing slowly against the exposed skin of your thighs. "I could teach you some tricks you won't learn in your classes... and promise you won't be bored."

You laughed softly, feeling the tickle of his touch. "I hope you're not all talk and no action."

"I don't usually disappoint on the field, or off it," he replied, pulling you closer by the waist. Your gazes met, and in the sparkle of his eyes, you could see the promise of an endless night.

Later, as soft music filled the room, you looked at him with a cheeky smile while he ran his fingers through your hair. "Tell me, have you ever been with someone who can keep up with you until sunrise?"

You looked at him challengingly, leaning closer. "And have you ever met someone who doesn't let you rest?"

The tension between them was felt in every sigh and stolen glance. He seized every opportunity to come closer and drop hints that exposed his intentions, while you remained playful, enjoying the game.

As he wrapped an arm around you, he leaned in and whispered in your ear with a mischievous grin. "I won't deny it, I've been imagining you differently all night... and none of it includes that outfit."

You raised an eyebrow, amused as you moved slightly away just to provoke him. "Wow, is that the best you've got? You should work on your lines, or you might think you impress me just with that pretty face."

He laughed, keeping his composure, his eyes slowly scanning you from head to toe. "I don't need lines if you know what I have down there... And believe me, what I'm imagining will keep you awake all night."

You looked at him with feigned surprise and leaned in close enough for your lips to brush his without actually kissing him. "Oh really? All night? How ambitious. But look, it's not that easy. I might be the one leaving you begging for a break."

He smiled, amused and provocative, not backing away an inch. "It's a risk I'm willing to take. But I warn you, I don't tire easily. And I don't care how many times we have to 'train' to get it right."

You laughed, theatrically placing your hand on your chest. "Oh, look at you... all athletic in every way. Too bad not all your tricks impress me."

He looked at you with a playful glint in his eyes, sliding his fingers along your waist until you shivered slightly. "Then I'll have to show you some moves that aren't taught in training. Ready for a private lesson?"

You pushed him gently with a mocking smile, enjoying the game. "You take this teaching thing very seriously... But what if I end up teaching you something?"

He moved even closer, softly pinning you against the bed, his lips a whisper away from yours. "I think that's a lesson I'm eager to learn.. And I don't plan on skipping a single second."

"I've been drinking coffee and eating healthy all day," you said, with a provocative tone as you leaned towards him. "I hope you can keep up."

Jude handled your body as if you were a feather, turning you around so that you were at the level of his crotch and he was at yours. "Thanks for making my job easier," he said, referring to your clothes.

What followed was the most delicious experience you've ever had... Jude's long tongue ravaged your pussy mercilessly. He sucked on your clitoris, driving you to your limit, and you couldn't handle it anymore, moaning loudly.

Soon, as Jude licked your pussy you helped him pull down his boxers so you could take the next step. Damn, his cock is huge; you know it because it's always been hard for you to take him due to the size difference between you. Amidst your moans, you tried to take his cock into your mouth, sucking on the head and helping with your hand to fully caress it.

Jude inserted two fingers inside you, giving your ass a playful slap. "That's it, baby, you're doing great," he grunted.

You couldn't take it anymore; damn, you couldn't stand it!! You came, releasing your fluids at the same time as Jude... oh? That was really hot.

It didn't end there, and you and him continued fucking. Damn, this man really keeps his word.

Your legs were trembling from the overexcitement; you had never experienced this. Jude settled you with a smile on his face, cleaned you up, and found comfortable clothes for you

Hours passed like a sigh, and when dawn began to peek through the window, they were still immersed in their own world, wrapped in disheveled sheets and unspoken promises. Their bodies fit perfectly together, creating countless moments where words were unnecessary, and only the pure sensation of being together remained.

"We could do this every night," he whispered, stroking your hair as you nestled against his chest, both breathing in sync, exhausted but satisfied.

"And who says we won't?" you replied, closing your eyes with a smile on your lips.

That morning, there were no alarms to pull them out of their dream. The movie they never watched remained paused on the screen, but for them, the real action had happened off-camera. Because in that small room, night and day blended together, and all that mattered was the promise of a new adventure when the lights went out again.

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: Hii can I request a jealous!max verstappen x reader where they’re secretly dating but the other drivers keep flirting with her lol (anonymous)

Word Count: 580 words

(author's note: first f1 fic, i hope you all enjoy !! 🫶)

When Max and Y/N finally started dating, Max requested one thing from his girlfriend; they kept their relationship private. Y/N had agreed immediately, understanding that life as an F1 driver’s girlfriend could become stressful at times.

However, Max began to regret his decision when he spotted Y/N and Charles talking animatedly outside the Ferrari garage. He stood watching from afar, grinding his teeth in annoyance.

“So Max is taking you to Bali? That’s nice,” Charles commented, smiling at the woman in front of him.

“Yes, he is! When he heard it’s somewhere I’ve always wanted to go, he booked the tickets immediately. We’re going together at the start of the off-season.”

“That is the most Max thing I’ve ever heard. I'm excited for you, though, Bali’s gorgeous.”

Y/N laughed, “You’re not wrong. Are you and Alexandra planning on going anywhere?”

“I think she mentioned wanting to go to France? I can’t remember off the top of my head, but we’re definitely thinking of going away.”

“That sounds lovely. Please do tell her I say hello.”

Max had decided he couldn’t take it any longer. He stormed over to Y/N and Charles and put on the fakest smile he could muster.

“Everything okay over here? You both seem to be having fun.”

“Hi Maxie, Charles was just telling me about his holiday plans with Alex!” Y/N said happily, turning round to look at her boyfriend.

“Yeah? Well, I think we’re needed in the garage, so we should probably get going. Wouldn’t want to keep Christian waiting.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later Charles, good luck with the race!”

“Bye Y/N, see you around,” Charles replied, waving goodbye.

Max began walking off in the direction of the Red Bull garage, with Y/N hot on his heels. When they finally arrived, Y/N turned to face Max.

“I know Christian didn’t need us Max, are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

Max scratched the back of his head, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“Maxie? You can tell me, I won’t laugh at you.”

“You talking to Charles made me a little jealous.”

“A little?” Y/N said, raising her eyebrow.

“Okay, a lot. I shouldn’t have pulled you away from him like that, I’m sorry, schatz.”

“It’s okay, lovie, just remember I'm yours and only yours.”

Max pulled Y/N into a grateful hug. He knew he could be irrational sometimes, but he was thankful that his girlfriend was always there to ground him and remind him that she loved him.

“I think,” Max started, “That I'd like to go public.”

“Are you sure, you know I don't mind either way, Maxie,” Y/N responded, looking up at her boyfriend.

“It might help if others know that you're mine. They should flirt with you less.”

Y/N slapped him gently on the chest, “They don't flirt with me Max, don't be ridiculous. It would be impossible for anyone to flirt with me when you're standing a metre away staring daggers at them.”

“I suppose, but I still want to tell everyone.”

“Okay then, whatever you want.”

Max pulled Y/N into another hug, “I'm sorry again for earlier.”

“It's okay, I know what you're like by now. You and your irrational thoughts.”

Max laughed, and the pair remained in each other's embrace for a while. Until Christian actually did need them both, and Max had to detangle himself from Y/N with a disappointed and discontented sigh.

[ctimenefic]

uhh sooo this needs fic for science (and me) pls could you oblige

always and forever my darling. thank you for this absolute treat of a photo set. you'll notice I basically didn't get past photo one, hope that's alright

“Can you do my back?”

George sounds fucked out; that’s the only reason Alex cracks open an eye, to check the sun and sea and sand haven’t decided to challenge him personally on making George William Russell achieve ultimate bliss. From his own lounger he can just about see George’s face smushed into the crook of his elbow, the corner of his mouth tipped up, and what is no doubt a pleading look unfortunately entirely concealed behind sunglasses. 

“Please,” he adds, and Alex can’t tell if he imagines eyelashes fluttering madly beyond the dark lenses. “I’ll get tan lines.”

“Just take your shorts off,” he grumbles back. He has; an artful grecian fold of towel is all that lies between him and cockburn. It’d been a faff to get it just so, and he’s at that itchy-good stage of his tanning, where sweat’s beading on his skin enough to make it feel tight and stretched, but not uncomfortable. A primitive pleasure. Not something to interrupt with the slime of factor five.

George hmphs into his arm. “It’s not a nudist beach.”

“It’s a private beach. On a private island.” Alex tries to sound annoyed, but it’s actually a fucking marvel that George’s inhibitions reset on a goldfish-like timer; it doesn’t seem to matter how many times Alex fucks him til he shouts on the sand, or sends him back to the villa glistening chin-to-chest with his own come, a few hours later it’s back to baseline, and Alex gets to make a spectacle out of him all over again.

“Aleex.” It’s always like that, stretched out just long enough to be noticed, but short enough to read like a typo, sound slurred and drunk and happy, like George just wants his name on his lips a little longer. And it’s always enough to work, Alex has to concede, as he scrabbles in George’s beach tote for the spray. 

“Alright princess,” Alex snarks, but even that can’t shift George’s smug expression. He straddles George’s thighs and over-spritzes til George’s back is gleaming wet with the stuff. It’s shiny, and smells faintly of cucumber; it makes him think of his sisters doing spa days at home, face masks and fluffy slippers. George might like that.

Another spritz for good measure and George huffs. “That’s expensive.”

“You’ll get another win bonus after the break,” Alex retorts, fond. He follows it up with a smooth press of both palms, right the way up George’s back, either side of his spine, and down his arms, and George melts under him. The cucumber scent darkens as it meets skin and sweat; Alex feels thirsty even as his mouth waters. He skims up the sides of George’s ribs next, even though George could obviously have reached there himself; lets the pads of his fingers linger in each hollow just a second. There’s not a part of George he hasn’t touched, but there are places he hasn’t memorised yet. It’s summer. They have time. 

When he glides his palms up to George’s neck, rubs the suncream with his fingertips right up to the base of his hairline, George shivers and stretches like a cat under him, pliant and satisfied, and it takes more of the weight of a bad half season off Alex’s shoulders than a dozen hours of sunbathing and swimming could. He presses his thumbs in at the top of George’s traps, revels in the open mouth moan he barely muffles against his arm. 

“Maybe I should take my shorts off after all,” George murmurs, smug - and there it is, there’s the fucking play. He wiggles a little, arse suddenly straining to escape his Hilfiger swim trunks.  

Alex swats his shoulder. “Hussy.” Just to be petty, he slides over George’s arse instead, wedges his knees against George’s ribs and lets some of his weight sit there against his mid-back. That’ll teach him not to ask for what he wants flat out. 

And then George shifts his arms - moves his head round, to give Alex a look, maybe, or just to get comfy - and his shoulders pull in. Just a fraction. Just enough to turn the long line of his spine into a gully between thick, strong muscle. Just enough to catch the head of Alex’s dick where it sat soft against one of his vertebrae, and squeeze.

George doesn’t even notice, that’s the thing. But Alex - Alex can see it, how fucking fast he’s getting hard at the feel, the look of it, the pink of him against the soft brown of George’s tan. He can imagine how it might-

No. No, that’s not- He’s heard of blowing someone’s back out, but it’s not literal, it’s an expression. It’s George last night, shiny eyed and weak all over, when Alex gave him fingers to suck and fed him ice cubes and mango slices and stayed inside him until he was hard again, because he could, because it’s summer and they have time. 

He’s not going fuck George’s back. He’s not. He’s- he can be normal about this. Even if it would be like when his ex-girlfriend would lie him flat on the floor, core tensed, and then run her pussy over his cock, slide back and forth until her thighs shook and she was dripping wet - actually dripping, fat drops he could hear hitting the skin of his stomach, his dick. Like that, but better, because it would be George stuck just taking it, feeling it, not even able to watch as Alex fucked up into the tight space between his shoulderblades.

He’s utterly hard now, dark and straining. A drop of precome appears. If he moved, it’d smear on George. He could rub it in. He could smear more. 

He could watch his come sluice down the whole long length of George’s spine, pool in the small of George’s back, or slide down to his arse, push it inside and fuck him there too, fuck every place he could be fucked until he was more inside George than out. 

He’d had an idle plan to finger George until he gaped for their last night on the island - not fisting, that was one of the words George couldn’t say, had blinked at rapidly when Alex had tried probably the world’s most ill-advised conversation on kink. But as close as he could get without George bolting. Four, and his mouth, until George cried, late enough into the night that he’d squirm on the jet home in the morning, empty and needy. Maybe then he’d finally let Alex fuck him mid-flight, whatever the pilot might hear. 

George shifts again, a tiny movement, but enough that Alex hisses at the change, the heat of a fresh centimetre of George’s skin under the head of him. Precome rolls down, splatters silently out of sight, in the gully of his spine. Alex closes his eyes for a breath.

“Georgie,” he starts. “Be a very good girl for me and stay still.”

[macsimagines]

Can we have headcanons for yandere Bonten hanma, ran and sanzu who's girlfriends like to sit in their laps and play with their hair? (Maybe a touch of NSFW PLS)

Thank you!

Last one because I think this is has been in my ask box for a fewdays and I want to make sure to do things on a first come first serve basis.

TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, NSFW

Yandere!Hanma Shuji

Indulges in it once in awhile, but only if you two are in private. He does love to be serviced by you but he doesn't want you doing anything in front of anyone and making him look weak.

Big on his image in front of his underlings. But when you're alone, and you got on that itty bitty skirt you know he loves, the one that hikes up just the right way when you straddle his lap and he gets a peak of those pretty panties you've got on, he'll let you do whatever you want.

The way your fingers massage his scalp while hes cupping your ass and sin and punishment making sure to grab a good handful, makes him feel like hes in heaven.

Probably sucks a few hickies onto your collarbone, enjoys the soft mewls he'll get in response, and the feeling of you grinding down on him.

"You got on top, baby. What did you think was going to happen?" He'll smile, loosening his tie and leaning back, "C'mon, don't stop now. Put on a show for Daddy."

And you pout those pretty lips at him, but do relent to his demands, slowly unbuttoning your own top... Playing with Hanma's hair is basically an invite to let him play with you too.

Yandere!Ran Haitani

You better be wifey if you're going to play with his hair. He takes very good care of it and is EXTREMELY particular about his do, boo~.

BUT if you are someone who is blessed with the honor of playing with that luxurious head of hair, then be prepared because.... he's going to pass the fuck out.

I know you probably wanted something sexy but he's the type of guy to put his face on your chest and just sleep while you braid away at his hair or brush it back with your fingers.

He doesn't even like it when you pull on it during sex. That cut was expensive and he doesn't need you mucking it up.

BUT, on some days when he manages to not pass out and you're massaging away at his temple with his face planted firmly in your boobs, he'll probably moan out a few; "Right there, baby," or maybe "Just a lil'more sweetheart."

Might thank you later for the good head massage with one of his own, albeit a massage that primarily focuses on your ass more than anything.

"You like to play with my hair, and I like to play with your ass. It's only fair right?"

Yandere!Sanzu Haruchiyo

Probably makes you do it. Like maybe the drugs aren't hitting right, and he's feeling a little off, maybe he needs some love and someone to calm his nerves down.

So he'll just pick you up and plop you right down onto his lap and hide his face in the crook of your neck. "Make the headache go away, baby."

And you'll work your magic fingers and soothe the thumping in this poor baby's (absolutefuckingmenance) brain. All the while whispering something like; "My strong man, needs a break huh?"

Of course he'll nod and wrap his arms around you milking your love and attention for all its worth. Then when its over he's back to being a total douche.

Will put on hand under your skirt and the other one is probably pulling at your shirt, trying to keep you from leaving. "Don't be like that, baby~ I just wanna thank ya fer takin' such good care of me~"

"S-Sanzu! I was only trying to help! Quit gettin' handsy!" But he's already got his fingers hooked in your panties and is licking away at your neck where he knows you're sensitive.

"It's happenin', Y/N. Stop bein' so pietist, and let me at them tits, sweetheart."

[awkward-walking-potato]

An Easy Fix

It's a cool autumn evening when your car decides to break down in the middle of nowhere. The engine sputters, coughs, and then gives out entirely. You curse under your breath, pulling over to the side of the road. It’s getting dark, and the last thing you want is to be stranded here overnight.

After a few minutes of trying to get the car to start again, you give up. With a sigh, you grab your jacket, step out of the car, and start walking down the road. Not far ahead, you notice a large, looming structure in the distance. As you get closer, you realize it’s an impressive, mansion-like building. There's a sign out front that reads "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."

The place seems both welcoming and mysterious, but right now, it’s your best bet. You approach the entrance and ring the bell. After a moment, the door opens, and you’re greeted by a tall, muscular man with red-tinted glasses.

"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice calm but commanding.

"Yeah, my car broke down a little way back," you explain. "I was hoping someone here could help me out. I didn’t know there was a school in the area."

The man nods, considering your situation for a moment before introducing himself. "I'm Scott Summers. I can take a look at your car. Wait here."

A few minutes later, Scott comes out with a toolbox in hand. You lead him to your car, and he gets to work, carefully inspecting the engine. As he does, you find yourself watching him more than anything else. There's something magnetic about him, the way he moves, the quiet confidence in his actions.

"Looks like a simple fix," he finally says, pulling out a few tools. "You should be back on the road in no time."

"Thank you so much," you reply, genuinely grateful. "I wasn’t sure what I was going to do."

"No problem," Scott responds, glancing up at you. "It's what I do."

As he finishes up, the two of you make small talk. You learn a bit about the school, and he explains that it’s a place for students with unique abilities. The more you talk, the more you feel a connection growing between the two of you. There's an intensity in his gaze, even through those red glasses, that makes your heart race a little faster.

Finally, the car is fixed. You thank him again, but as you’re about to get in and drive off, you hesitate. You don’t want to leave just yet. There's something unspoken lingering in the air between you.

"Listen," he says, his voice a little unsteady. "I know this might sound crazy, but… would you want to come back to the school with me? I could show you around, maybe we could… talk some more?"

You pauses, considering his offer. Then nod slowly. "Yeah,I’d like that."

Back at the school, Scott gives you a brief tour, but it’s clear that neither of you is really focused on the history of the building or the curriculum. The tension between you is almost palpable. When you reach a more secluded area of the mansion, Scott stops walking, turning to face you fully.

"There's something about you," he says quietly, his gaze intense. "Something that… draws me in."

You take a step closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest. "I feel the same way."

Before either of you can say anything else, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his. The kiss is electric, filled with all the pent-up tension from the evening. Scott wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more desperate.

One thing leads to another, and soon you find yourselves in one of the more private rooms of the mansion. The rest of the world fades away as you lose yourselves in each other, the connection you felt earlier blossoming into something intense, something undeniable.

Afterward, you lie together in the quiet, the only sound your breathing as you both come down from the high of the moment. Scott’s hand gently strokes your hair as you rest against him.

"I guess I owe you more than just a thank you," you murmur, a smile tugging at your lips.

Scott chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. "I think we’re even."

[euphoricfilter]

For the drabble game could you write fluff with youtuber bf jk ? I am not creative so I couldn’t think of a sentence sorry😭 but maybe he does one of those 24hr streams, I love your writing!

youtuber boyfriend! kook headcanons:

tags/ warnings: none. just a lot of fluff and feelings <3

notes: when i got sent this idea ages ago i got so excited. and i wrote three fics for it but hated them all and then made sure they were to never see the light of day. so my solution is to write some cute boyfriend headcanons instead to make up for it!! simply because i absolutely love this idea and i need to write anything for it to sate the need within me.

notes 2: this got slightly longer than i’d intended LMAO sorry 🕺

𓇻 i feel like jungkook’s channel has a plethora of videos, though he specializes in gaming.

𓇻 its probably one of his biggest passions. though i do see him dabbling in commentary, or even review type videos. maybe he’s a bit of a collector as well and goes on hour long rants about rare items or hauls of what he purchased over the years.

𓇻 i see the both of you probably meeting at one of those second-hand game and film stores.

𓇻 maybe you’re just milling around. more content to browse the movies than the games because you only own an old console (something cute like a nintendo DS) but they don’t really sell the game cards commercially anymore

𓇻 and jungkook loses track of why he was even there in the first place when he spots you. slowly scooting towards the corner you’re in.

𓇻 jungkook might not exactly believe in love at first sight, finds it a little hard to imagine loving someone so soon. but he definitely believes in destiny, even fate. and some small part of his mind had convinced him that surely this was just that.

𓇻 he’d be a bit shy about trying to approach you, mouth opening only for nothing to come out because what was he supposed to say? and maybe he accidentally startles you, offering to pay for the few dvds you had hugged to your chest as a lame sort of compensation

𓇻 he’d be the one to ask for your number, he’d be the first to text. you’d tell him later on it’s because you didn’t want to come off too head-strong. worried you’d scare him off messaging only hours after meeting. and then he’d tell you he had worried about the same thing

𓇻 jungkook wouldn’t straight out tell his audience he’d gotten into a relationship. it’s not that he was embarrassed about you, quite the opposite; he’d love to flaunt you to the world. it’s just he’d worry about the reaction from fans.

𓇻 he’d have a pretty hefty audience, a well established one even. and he wasn’t blind to the mean comments that would occasionally show up beneath videos or social media posts. he, himself, never found much issue in dealing with them, on occasion he’d get a little down but he knew that really he put himself up for this. he chose to show his face online, and with that would come some backlash. however, that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about you or how shitty comments would effect your well being.

𓇻 definitely the “in a relationship but it’s private” sort of photos would slowly creep their way onto his IG posts. maybe of little date nights— candles on the table with a dinner you’d cooked together (2 glasses, 2 plates and 2 sets of cutlery), or your favorite cake he’d tried to bake himself with the lego flowers he’d spent the previous evening trying to make (because at least you could look at the lego ones forever and they wouldn’t die). or maybe even your hand snuck in a photo or simply your silhouette beneath a sunset.

𓇻 maybe a few of your own collectible items had made their way onto the shelf in his studio. an obvious beanbag in the corner (you’d often sit there and read as he went through emails or scripted videos). valentines cards that he’d never thought to take down, or posters of yours that never exactly fit in the bedroom

𓇻 it would become apparent that he was in a long-term relationship when he’d film a moving video. so much of your stuff mingled with his own, split seconds of the shared rooms he’d add to the video before showing his audience his new office space. the extra shoes and cute little additions to his home; soft cushions on the couch, ceramics you’d begged him to buy. your hoard of plushies that took up half the bed or the stupid amount of skin care products stacked up in the bathroom. all a sure way of telling his fans that he was serious about you, even if they had no idea of your name or face

𓇻 maybe with enough comments he’d make a little announcement at the end of a video.

𓇻 “i know you’ve all probably guessed by now, but i am in fact, in a relationship”

𓇻 and then proceeded to talk about you for 7 minutes because really he wanted everyone to know how much he loved you. and truthfully he never knew when to shut up when it came to you, not when you were what’s on his mind most of the time. he’d tell them how you’d met, and how he had been absolutely enamored by you almost instantly. he’d show everyone the matching bracelets you’d made. grinning as he showed off the receipt he’d kept in his wallet from your first date together at a small cafe in town, mentioning how he kept a baby photo of you in the back of his phone too.

𓇻 the first time you’d show up in a video, he’d plan for the both of you to do some crafts together one afternoon. a hobby you’d been trying over the last couple of weeks, and jungkook liked to indulge you. loved to watch you sprawled across the floor of an evening with glue coating your fingers and way too much glitter imbedded in the carpet.

𓇻 he’d have been worried at first. asking you over and over if it was truly okay for you to be on camera, and after your reassured him with a kiss, he’d settle down slightly. though his anxiety had still clung to him, eyes flitting your way throughout the afternoon

𓇻 he could tell how shy you’d been, and had reassured you that really you didn’t even need to address the audience. he’d do all the silly little things you giggled at him for. and all you had to do was sit there and be pretty for him. you’d been a lot quieter than usual; itching to give him a kiss each time he was just so awfully jungkook. eyes like those of galaxies when he got something right, or the happiest smile on his face when you asked him for help

𓇻 the day he did a 24 hour charity stream would be when his audience sees you the most. milling around the house, making sure your boyfriend was fed and watered. maybe even sitting down and reading the chat when he wanted to shower. or answering questions while perched on his lap. he’d want to smother you with even more love when you’d catch his eye— a silent question if you were doing okay, that you answered all the questions correct. and he’d squeeze your thigh in reassurance, head resting over your shoulder as he listened to your voice, humming to let you know he was still listening

𓇻 you’d startle him at 4am, a little pouty that you’d had to fall asleep alone. dragging a chair from the kitchen to sit on as you watch him play a game you’d never seen before.

𓇻 “go back to bed, baby” he’d coo, “you’ll fall asleep sitting up and get a bad back”

𓇻 and maybe after that he’s a lot more open to showing you on camera. filming you on beaches, eating cakes and ice creams from a million different restaurants or dancing around hotel rooms or sitting on the balcony with the sun warming your skin when he takes you on holiday. short films dedicated to you with your favorite songs playing in the background

𓇻 maybe he even makes a playlist on his youtube channel, titled “my love” for every video that he includes you in

𓇻 idk just very much in love boyfriend kook who wants the world to love you almost as much as he does (because in all honesty, no one would ever love you more than he does)

[brokenpieces-72]

Graves Circumstance

Part 2 | Navigation

“Okay, awkward question, do you need any products I shouldn’t or you don’t want me looking at?” He asks in the truck.

You shook your head and Graves nodded in understanding. It was quiet, with only the engine filling the space.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this.” You said with a small voice.

“Dragged myself into this, hell didn’t even drag nothing, I went up to it and took it by the hand.” He told you. Graves looked at you when he heard you sniffling.

“Hey there, you’re not doing anythin wrong. If you need a minute I can pull over, doubt anyone’ll worry about a ticket.” He said.

“Just… what if it wasn’t real?” You asked, staring at the dash board. “What if it was all in my head or… or I can’t remember it because it was some fucked up dream?”

“It was real. They ran tests, and yeah you had some stuff in your system, but nothing that would cause those kinds of scars.” Grave stated, a firm tone. The last thing he wanted was there to be doubts.

You looked at him, knees to your chest, the boots you were given on the floor in front of you. Your stringy hair draped over your face as you stared at Graves. There were going to be doubts but he believed you, and he seemed satisfied with what you’d told him.

“Let’s get you a proper jacket. Don’t want you to freeze out here.”

“You said you were military? Right?” You asked walking around town. Any provisions were in the truck and you’d gotten some shirts, pants and hoodies. You were wearing one you’d found with the name of the town on it. Graves got you a beanie as well, and yes this was coming out of his pocket. You had no money to speak of. Now you were just looking around, seeing if maybe someone had seen you in town. Unfortunately you couldn’t recognize anyone.

“Yes and no.” Graves answered. “I left the military and started my own. I have a private army.”

“Is that legal?” You asked. Graves was willing to be an open book for you. Right now you needed open books, if only so you could open your own pages.

“It takes some time, but yes what I do is legal.” Graves explained. You didn’t say anything else so Graves decided to initiate conversation.

“You do anything for fun before…this?” He asked. You honestly don’t recall much. Your memories are a little foggy.

“Uh… I think I enjoyed the snow…” You said, slowing your pace as you tried to think of who you are. Graves slows his pace for you. Snow was a good start. Eliminated some of the places you could be from. Your name hadn’t pulled up any criminal records, only a death certificate. Tracking next of kin was harder.

“You like dogs?” He asked. There’s a hint of a smile, and he’ll take it.

“Yeah.” You replied. Graves looked around the street seeing if there might be something of a pet store. He knew animals were often used to assist with these sorts of things. Maybe it could help. Graves continued walking, keeping an eye out.

“What kind of dogs do you like? Small ones big ones?” He asked. Graves is focusing on your trust and he isn’t about to force it. Conversations like this will get you talking, and it won’t be much but it will be enough.

“Huskies… Newfie dogs…” you listed.

“Newfie?”

“Yeah they’re like… st Bernard’s but fluffier I think… or like great pryness.” You exclaimed.

“You ever have a dog?” He asked. You shook your head. You continued walking chatting about funny dog stories, and he gets you to smile a little. Not too long later, there’s a call and they have a room ready at the motel. Graves took you there in the truck and you passed out in the backseat.

Yeah Phil definitely couldn’t blame you for being tired. He did nudge you awake so you can at least get inside, and help him with some of the stuff. As soon as you got inside, and you winter gear off, you’re on the bed asleep. You don’t even have a blanket on, so Graves retrieves the blanket you’d had with you from the vehicle and lays it over you.

Graves couldn’t sleep, and stepped outside to take a breather. This was almost too much. He was sickened by what had happened to you and those straight scars weren’t your only wounds. You had cuts and bruises in a few places, some of which disgusted him, not with you but whoever had done this. Now you were going to go back to that place or at least try to find it. As he leaned against the door, a cop pulled up, tipping his brim in greeting.

Graves was lighting a cigarette, offering one to the cop.

“How are they?” He asked. Graves shrugged.

“They could’ve been killed by a human or nature and chose neither. Honestly amazed they can sleep.”

“I understand that.” The officer said. He looked at Graves almost expectantly. He already turned down the nicotine stick.

“You don’t need sleep yourself?” The officer inquired. Graves tensed a little.

“‘Scuse me?” He asked.

“Just You’re out here, would’ve thought you’d be in there keeping closer watch.” The officer exclaimed.

“Giving them some privacy.” Graves said firmly. His hand drifted to his gun, letting it rest casually on it.

“Are they up for tomorrow?” The officer asked. Graves relaxed a little.

“You’d have to ask them yourself. Right now I don’t know.”

“You’re sticking around?” The cop asked. Graves gave a small nod, looking around the place. “You’re sure?”

Graves didn’t like the second question, but he isn’t about to show it. “Yep, yep.”

“If you want I can take watch tonight. Let you rest.”

“No thanks.” Graves said shutting down the cop’s offer.

“Still keep an eye out from the car.” The cop said, and strolled back to his vehicle. Graves shuffled back inside, and shut the door, locking it tight. He drew the cheap curtains sending the room into darkness. He considered putting you on the bed furthest away from the door, hell, he considers lying behind you if only to keep you covered. Graves just laid down on the other bed, putting the gun under his pillow.

The next morning you woke up to Graves dropping something in the little kitchen area. You slowly opened your eyes, turning over in your blanket. Phil looked over to see if he had woken you and yep. You were still lying down but you’d turned over to look at him.

“Morning. Sounds like you slept okay.” He said. You nodded.

“Is that breakfast?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

“Hopefully. That or I’ll set the smoke detector off.” He said, smirking. You tried to hold back your laughter and he turned to see you giggling. “Y’know. One of the two. Turn on the tv if you want.”

You looked around a found the remote. Like many tv sets you turn it on, and the news is playing. “Is that you?”

Graves looks up and sees the most recent trial he had gone too. You listened to him and General Shepard being questioned about an attack on the 141 from a couple years ago.

“Change the channel.” Graves said, before going up to the old tv and changing it manually. You watched him as he quickly covered up his past from you. He went back to making some eggs in the small kitchen.

You remember him saying he wasn’t exactly military. Ex-military then. Graves doesn’t make any eye contact with you, so you return your focus to the tv screen. Flicking through channels you eventually find MASH.

You take some clothes into the bathroom to shower and change. You get a proper look at yourself in the mirror, seeing how pale and underfed you’d been. You try combing out your hair, wincing as it yanks. It takes maybe thirty minutes and you get a knock on the bathroom door from Graves telling you breakfast was ready. You come out in warm socks, a soft hoodie, clean t-shirt and dark jeans. You pat your hair dry as much as you can, running the brush through once more to make sure all the knots are out. Once you step out you can smell a hint of smoke from the sausages.

Graves sits on his bed and you sit on yours, while there are MASH episodes continuing to marathon.

“You actually like this show?” Phil asked you.

“I can change it if you don’t like it.” You said.

“No it’s a pretty good show. Thought you’d be too young for it.” He commented. You shrugged.

“This is really good.” You commented, stuffing your face. Graves stared out the window as you kept eating for a moment. He set his plate aside and opened the door. You watched him go, shivering at the morning cold flooding in. He shuts the door and scans the area, the cop car wasn’t in the parking lot and he wasn’t expecting it to be but it’s what he was dreading. The morning was calm, people walking and going about their day.

Graves looked back at the door and trekked along the sidewalk, overhearing a couple of intimate noises coming from one or two the other rooms. No cop cars in sight. The cop last night asked some questions that made him uneasy, made him think something was going on.

You set your plate down and went to the bathroom, your heart racing. You heard someone come inside the room, and your blood froze. Their steps practically echoed to you. When they got closer, you squeezed the weapon you had in your hands. You struck once in view and then recoiled.

You’d stabbed Graves with a fork.

“I’m really sorry.” You said, for about the tenth time while Graves was cleaning the wound. He was frustrated, but he was trying not to laugh as well. Of all the things he’d been hit with, a fork is what gets him?

Phil reassures you once again that you were doing what you were supposed to. What he wanted you to do if something like that happened.

Graves puts a bandage on and comes out seeing you curled up like you were in the truck. You were wringing your hands and had some tears.

“If I was that sumbitch that hurt you, I would have deserved it.” He reminded you.

“But you weren’t.” You said in a small voice.

“Don’t matter. Ya did what ya had to kid.” Phil said looking at you. You looked up at him. You wiped your tears.

“No call from the station yet. You wanna walk around?” He offered. Before you answer he gets his coat, and you’re looking for your own. “Fresh air will do us some good.”

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[someone-wrote-here21]

Giyuu relationship headcanons

My headcanons for what it might be like for a relationship with Giyuu.

Requests are always open/welcomed!

Enjoy :)

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•Giyuu is a very quiet, private person so its no surprise that he isn't a big fan of PDA.

•How ever, he will hold your hand when you go out together and sometimes give you quick pecks on your lips, cheek or forehead when he knows no one is looking.

•But when you're alone together in the comfort of your home its a whole different story.

•He loves to have some sort of physical contact with you most of the time. Sitting down reading reading a book? His heads in your lap with you petting his hair. Cooking a meal for the both of you? He's either helping or he's hugging you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder.

• I bet sometimes if it's a slow morning or if he is really tired after a long day? Giyuu would let you do his hair. I think he'd really love just the sensation of have your hands run through his hair, even if he doesn't say it. It helps him relax and calm him down, especially if he gets in his own head with worries.

• If you're a civilian, every night he'll stop by your house after his patrol of his prefecture just to make sure that you're alright.

• If you're hashira like him then he trusts in your abilities as a demon slayer to protect yourself, but will still worry since he doesn't want to loose you to demons like he's lost others in the past.

• I don't see him as someone who says verbally that he loves you a lot. I think most of the time he will show it with his actions rather than words. But if you really want or need to hear him say it or if he feels that his actions aren't enough, he will tell you out loud.

• I think for a confession it would be spontaneous. I feel like he'd be very anxious to tell you, especially since everyone that he has been close to in the past has died, but I think he would confess one day on accident.

• It'll happen either one night when you are patching him up from one of his missions or when you two are out walking or something. The light would just hit your face with such elegance and beauty that he would just blank out for a minute in awe, all his worries flying out the window and just say, "I love you...." quietly but but with no hesitation.

• He'd then get so embarrassed later but also kinda relieved he got it off of his chest and that you feel the same way. (please tell him you feel the same way, it'd break his heart if you didn't T-T)