#in this day and age you think he's valid

[factsilike]

Mdzs Fandom: JC suffered so much, he lost his entire family and sister and even his clan, surely his taking out his anger and resentment at others is totally misunderstood and reasonable, I relate to him so much 🥹

WN (who lost not only his sister and entire family and clan but also his literal life, and was held captive and experimented on for thirteen years as a trophy, watches his relatives die a second time, is treated with prejudice and disdain and fear by most of the cultivation world, yet despite all this still manages to retain a bone-deep kindness and humility, as well as a sense of righteousness as fierce as himself): Am I a joke to you?

This is what I meant when I said characters who are constantly declaring what they went through are put up on a pedestal for their non existent resilience. It's so easy to forget that other characters went through much of the same pain and handled their circumstances better, like WN who went through literal hell himself, because he barely mentions and even downplays his suffering.

[wordy-little-witch]

I feel like I’m getting annoying with all these agere asks but I’m in a weird headspace rn and so my favs now have to regress and be happy so I can sleep better and maybe someone else gets a kick outta it I dunno? Anyways

I still love the idea that Buggy’s regression is mostly unrelated to wanting to wear certain clothes or long for certain toys or even a specific kind of food or such, I like to think it’s very „No. aesthetic“ type of regression, where you probably couldn’t tell at first glance and it’s not as easy as just giving him kiddie stuff and he’ll be happy. (Not to knock on anyone who does like the aesthetics and kiddie stuff just to be clear.) so he actually doesn’t have a bunch of toys and plushies and such and doesn’t really ask for them either.

…. THAT BEING SAID

Buggy should most definitely have an absolutely gigantic plush Fruitwani. Massive thing. It’s almost as big as Crocodile himself and that’s not counting the tail. A complete impulse purchase by Crocodile as well, being separated from his husbands for a while, having to delay reuniting them for another two days because of unforeseen circumstances and some unfortunate encounters with some Marines. Talking on the Denden to both of them and learning Buggy has had some bad regression days behind him. He doesn’t even let himself slip fully, there’s still a part of him that knows why Crocodile isn’t back with them, so he tries to stay in a big headspace when talking to him, but inwardly Buggy just wants to cry badly and curl up into Mihawks arms all day because Croccy isn’t home and he doesn’t LIKE it when people aren’t with him for too long because they may never come back. It’s a mess. Crocodiles suffering, Mihawk is suffering and Buggy is absolutely miserable.

So when Crocodile spots the giant plush toy sitting in a store window, surrounded by smaller plushtoys, his mind is immediately made up. Yes that one. Just for decoration? Not for sale? Well it is now. No. No that can be arranged. No the price doesn’t matter, he will leave this island with this absolute beast of a plush toy no matter how many Beri he has to spend or who he’ll have to harm if that what it takes. He WILL have that toy.

Buggy still clings to Crocodile more than usual when he gets back, no plush could ever replace the connection he was craving…. But after he has settled down a bit more the plush actually becomes on of his favorite toys. Not even just when he’s regressed, he just loves this thing. Has spooked several people wanting to talk business with Crossguild coming into the room finding chairman Buggy lounging on, what appears to be, a full sized Fruitwani , it just looks that convincing at first glance. For Buggy it’s not only cool and flashy, it’s a very, literally, big reminder that Crocodile cares about him in his own way, even when on some days the most he’ll get from him is a good morning kiss and the rest of the day is filled with snark towards him until he bids him and Mihawk goodnight again. It just means a lot to him to know he’s loved even when he’s being vulnerable or difficult.

Also yes, Crocodile also loves this thing and Mihawk has been on the suffering end of him and Buggy spooning the damn thing at night while he goes woefully unembraced on his side of the bed „ah yes, just me, my fiances, and the eight foot tall Applewani plush one of them threatened a shop owner over.“

Olay lemme preface this with some things

1) you're not annoying at all, and if anyone says you are, I'll eat their knees

2) I get it - honestly posting content for Buggy specifically for age regression was nerve wracking bc like. Idek really. But giving things I experience to characters I love is so cathartic, and I've spent more than a few nights just.... daydreaming about stuff like that just to be happy and comfy and cozy. No judgement on this blog, of that I promise you ♡♡♡

3) agere is valid every and any way, aesthetic or not, visible or not, it's doesn't matter, only the ways people feel. If you're safe, happy, and not harming anyone, you're doing so perfect and I love you and am proud of you

Now with my soap box stuff done, HOLY HECK YES YES PLZ I LOVE THIS I ADORE I NEED IT, GODS YOUR MIND!!!!! (/pos)

Buggy isn't a typical person, head to toe, inside out, he's Flashy but also incredibly subtle. His regression isn't some cookie cutter type of deal, he's wild and slightly feral in some ways, he's unusual and perfect and precious. His idea of a good time is knife games, climbing (everything is sight, nothing is sacred), explosions, and playing poker. He has a special rope that's just for him to tie and play with ((and occasionally chew on, though Mihawk has a mild heart attack every time he sees it while Crocodile cringes into the next plane of existence in disgust)).

At a glance, not much changes, but Mihawk can feel the change in Haki, and Crocodile can see the microscopic things there when Buggy shifts. He holds things differently, stims more visibly, just seems bouncier and even more animated yet somehow much more calm. The best explanation comes from Buggy himself in describing the shifting between his headspaces. "Some things turn off and others pop on open."

The worst thing to Buggy in general is a perception of loss or abandonment. Logically, he knows it isn't the case, and he can cling to that mostly, but experience has taught him that distance does NOT, in fact, make hearts grow fonder - at least, not for him. The one and only time he felt it may have applied - and this is a very tentative maybe - was when he reunited with his crew, made into Alvida's image and her decisions. There was no war over crew nor ship, just an allowance to slip back in as if he'd never quite left. The only changes or acknowledgement was Alvida's slightly awkward, brusque, yet lingering touch to his arm when she gave it a squeeze and remarked that "handling these hoodlums solo is not my idea if a good time." He was needed, and that did wonders for his security but not so much for the mental health.

Crocodile and Mihawk don't need him - he's the face man, sure, and he's got a talent for manipulation, speeches, rallying men. But at the end of the day, they outshine him despite their proclivities for the shadows. It's a juxtaposition. It's safe. It's wonderful, and Buggy still struggles to trust in the reliability there.

Logically, he knows- Croc is out, managing something for work, he's coming back, he will be back, he's not alone or abandoned or suddenly useless and worthless.

But he still feels it all.

And falling into his headspace to decompress is always harder when he's upset or scared, it only really works when he boils over, and the meltdown that would lead to is counterproductive. So he's waffling between the two, assured only by the calls, by Mihawk, and the few other places he can get some semblance normalcy and security.

When Crocodile does come home, a comically large plush toy over his shoulder, Buggy's already practically vibrating and is completely beyond the point of words in a positive way. He just squeals, lunges and the cushion of sand catching his weight is warm and safe and cozy and he clings, a clown themed koala, right there without shame.

The plush doesn't come up until later.

When someone inevitably asks - and, interestingly enough, it is Mihawk who does - Croc is honest. "Thought the clown would like it for longer trios like this."

The toy is big, yes, and also decently heavy, moreso than even it's size may seem. It's partially weighted in the tummy, legs and jaw, a display piece more than a toy for playing with, and Buggy is absolutely obsessed. It's Croco-sized, and it's a 'wani, and it's soft and cute and heavy. He loves it.

His first order of business is immediately dropping down to scramble under it and just... going limp. He wriggles a little, humming softly before falling still, cheek squished into his forearms, hair a mess but he's smiling, he's relaxed, he's comfy and happy and safe and with his boyfriends' Haki on the edges if his muffled, fuzzy awareness, he truly unwinds for the first time in over a week.

Crocodile carefully tugs his hair from under the toy with his hook, and Mihawk hands him a little fidget toy or a rope.

The toy is named later on, as demanded by a tiny jester with a frankly lethal set of baby doll eyes and quivering lip. Really, he could topple nations with that face, the other two swear.

Mihawk simply has to make peace with Addie the Applewani Cuddle Buddy having a semi permanent spot in the bed.

[autumnrory]

one thing about me is even if i hated the book i just read i will still be defending the main character while all the goodreads reviewers go on about how whiny and selfish she is

[avatar-aaang]

after having to remind a friend yesterday, id like to remind all trans peeps who are at any step in their journey: transitioning isn't a competition. There isn't a time limit. You're not running out of time. Its never too late to become the person you want to be. You don't have to medically transition if you don't want to bc in the end you are still completely trans. It will be okay.

[konigsblog]

older boyfriend simon riley thots™...

tw/cw; age difference/gap, alcohol consumption, inexperienced!reader, corruption, authority kink, rookie x lieutenant au. MDNI 18+

;how can simon riley keep his grimey, sinful hands off of your body? so pure, like a lamb.

in comparison to your lieutenant, you're not experienced whatsoever. simon is entering his mid-forties, while you're a little twenty-something year old, fresh to the military.

simon finds your age difference slightly irritating. he'd be lying if he said he didn't get off fantasising about you, to spread your thighs and eat you out, or even fuck you into stupidity. he hates the other recruits, the ones similar in age towards you. he'll talk down on them and will threaten them not to make a relationship in the military, that it's prohibited.

although simon isn't bothered about it being prohibited. he wants you for himself, and will do anything to make sure you're available to him. simon adores how tipsy you get while out with the rest of the team, he grabs your hand and guides you to the bathroom, pushing you against the wall to make out with you messily.

his breath reeks of tobacco and alcohol, his eyelids heavy with delirium as he slides his hand between your thighs and up your skirt. it feels so wrong to be teasing a twenty year old—especially at his age—but god, you're all he can think about, plaguing his every thought and distracting him from concentrating.

it's not your fault he's obsessed with you, but he'll blame you regardless. he flips you around, your back against him, pressed against the door as he begins to lift your dress, unfastening his belt while apologising beforehand. you're too drunk to understand why he's apologising, only realising when he begins to quicken his pace, becoming ruthless with a little thing like you. his thick cock spreads your slick pussy, splitting you open with his thrusts deep and hard, his groans guttural and drunken.

you're so compliant, eager to fit simon's idea of perfection, to be validated by your role model. you wish to be like simon one day, but for now, you're his little fleshlight, serving your purpose and allowing him to use you like a sex toy.

[nemesyaaa]

buffalo'66 au ! old!serial killer! rafe x young!sugardoll!reader

warnings : daddy issues/kink. slight of rafe having a god complex. smut. sick love/obssession/behavior. age gap. size kink. gunplay. spit. mean!dark!rafe. mentions of kidnapping/murdering. dark content. be careful with the warnings.

author's note : i think a lot about rafe having a god complex. and the way it could fix him to have a girl who cherish him and love him like he's just the only one. as the same i think a lot of rafe being a cult!leader with a sweet lamb. anyways, enjoy !

you knew you weren't allowed to touch his gun, but you couldn't pretend that the forbidden rules didn't excite you either. the proof being that you were still with rafe even though he had kidnapped you. you had found the glock in the drawer, and now you were having fun with it to the point where you hadn't heard your jailer come home. you were too captivated by the handgun to pay attention to that.

“ will you teach me how to shoot ? ” you asked in a soft tone.

“ obviously not. but i can swear to you that if you don't put the gun right in my hand in a second, i will show you how i use it. especially on a little tiny thing like you. now stop playing and give it to me, sugardoll. i already told you to not get on my nerves. ”

“ are you a serial killer or something ? ” you said to him, not aware about his job.

“ no obviously, i'm a babysitter. see ? how well i care about little silly girls ? ” he answered with the most sarcastic tone. “ i think you already know what i am, but you like playing dumb. because you're desperate for my attention. you need me to explain things, to satisfy your need of validation. that's right ? ”

he moved from his place, and placed himself behind you, your small body caged against his bigger size. you could feel all the pressure of his strength on you, and you started to shiver when his breath came near to your ears.

“ since you want to play with daddy's gun so bad, i'm willing to give you what you want. ”

“ no, i don't want to play anymore ! ”

“ oh i'm afraid to tell it's too easy like that, sugar. the game doesn't stop when you decide. the game stops when i’m done playing. got it ? nod your head if you got it.”

you really started to be his doll, accepting to nod whenever he wants, to use you whenever he feels the need, to move whenever he decides. when you nodded your head, giving him a little look, he grabbed the gun.

“ you will kill me ? don't, i can be good ! ”

“ you can ? no, you will. choose your words better, sugardoll. why are you crying right now ? the worse it yet to come actually. now, open that pretty mouth of yours. ”

you refused, shaking your head. you were terrified that he would kill you.

“ i said open it. if i have to repeat it, i swear that i will snap dry this gun further in your cunt, and everytime a sound will come out your mouth, pushing it deeper inside. do you understand me ? now, don't you want to be a baby sugardoll, full of kindness and sweetness ? show me how sweet and pretty you are for me. and listen to me. ”

with tears on your cheeks, you slowly opened your mouth. you could feel rafe’s smile against your neck. you were so submissive, the perfect victim. he had chosen you well the day he saw you. like a true serial killer, he never missed his prey.

“ this is why you call me sugardoll ? ”

“ see ? i'm good enough to give you a nickname. ”

it was sick but you smiled, you felt like you were special in his eyes. maybe rafe had a collection of little dolls but you felt unique.

“ don't kill me. i'm begging you. ”

“ fuck, you don't know how hard you make me when you're desperate like that. but trust me, i will make you see soon how good you make me feel. it will be your reward for being this sweet for me, sugardoll.”

he spread your legs, holding them wide with his strong hand covering your trembling thigh while his other hand brought the front of the gun down onto your skin. passing the coldness of steel across your tummy, while you shivered at the thought of dying. when he got to your underwear. you had heard his smirk.

"oh sure, you don't want to die. you want to be fucked. it's so wet here, i could stick the gun in without even preparing you, it would slide off so easily.” his mocked tone made you yelp.

“ i'm not controlling myself ! ”

“ and you don't need too. let me take care of you. keep your mouth open. i will put my gun in. ”

“ i can't do this ! it seems very dangerous…”

“ then suck it well, sugar. especially, if you don't want me to empty the gun on your gorgeous throat. ” he warned you, while pressing his lips on your neck. it was not a kiss, but you were so soft for this little touch. you wanted to please him, to see him proud of you.

he rushed the pistol between your wet plump lips, and you almost choked on it. “ be careful, doll, daddy's gun it's loaded. ” he said with a smile that made your tears even saltier.

while you had started to do your job, his fingers were lightly pressed on the surface, fiddled with the trigger. he loved seeing your petrified eyes, he loved feeling your blood freeze inside your veins, the way you resembled a frightened and helpless animal. you were defenseless and he had no limits.

you lapped at the cold metal at first, your tongue rolling over the barrel, swirling like a needy pet, and licking every bit of the object. you didn't waste anything, moistening the weapon with your own spit, some trails dripped down your tits. rafe had pushed the gun farther, almost into your throat. you choked, a trail of saliva raining over your jaw.

there was nothing amusing about it, but he found it fun. you sucked like your life depended on it even though let's be honest, it did. you moved back and forth quickly, rushed every movement with a softly sloppy gasp. he loved, no he adored the view of your ruined face and your mouth stuffed by the cold weapon. your great job made his dick painfully hard. you could feel the gun under your tongue, and the way it abused you. you drooled, a batch of saliva engulfing one side of the charger.

“ slow down, sugardoll, you're about to melt. ”

you felt dirty for being turned on by something so humiliating, the way you were pathetic for every single thing he introduced you to. it was as if he knew what you wanted, and how to exploit it. he could destroy you as well as shape you. you were nothing but the doll he wanted to play with. he knew more than anyone how to make you feel good. he knew well how to play with his toys.

you were killing him slowly with the way you were going about it, your pink tongue tickling the barrel, your mouth swallowing the entirety of his gun. every inch moved in and out of your parted lips. you lost count of the number of times you almost choked to the point you could throw up, you did your best.

the cold air of the room hit the soaked fabric of your underwear. it had gotten so wet down there.

you tried to focus on this dangerous game but you saw his bulge growing, his crotch distorting his pants.

“ keep sucking, i'm not done. ”

“ but ..."

he ignored you and took off his pants and boxers, freeing his hard cock. the next minute he was inside you, completely buried to the point where you could feel him all the way to your stomach. you salivated on the handgun, making a rain all over it.

as he filled you up, his thick cock abusing your tight pussy, the position was totally different, you were lying there, still the gun in your mouth, but now he was fucking you. his eyes were on you, and you could feel that motivating him even more to pounded you. your juices pooled on the surface the deeper he went. the slobber gathered around the metal. he rushed away your tears with his thumb.

“ stop whining, sugardoll. you can't cry when daddy takes you so well. ”

you really wanted to listen to him but it was too much for you. you were full of tears and they constantly wanted to come out, even when you felt good. but it was like the more you cried, the more he bullied your pussy, and by that, giving you more reasons to whine.

“ jesus, i'm pretty sure that you really like that gun in your mouth. ” he said with a firm thrust that made you squirm, your eyes wettering as the sentence. “ you like being this pathetic ? don't worry, i got you, i'm not judging you, but don't mind if i take advantage of it ? of course, you don't mind. you love being this sick, you're just a needy freak. ”

he pulled out before putting it back in you, inched himself deeper and deeper, letting you breathless. he was more rough this time, his fat length stretching you wider. his hips slammed your skin, his sweaty balls slapping you in motion. you nodded your head, your loud moans echoed in the empty room. his heavy hand on your tiny throat, pressuring it every time your walls tighten him.

his big other hand squeezing your small waist, as your core wrapped him harder. “ see ? daddy's making you a new home, right now. ”

his breath was heavy and short, the sweat of his body pressed against yours, while you were about to explode, so close to the orgasm. you were crying even more. and he covered your mouth with his large palm. he hitted the right spot again and again, without a break. you reached the second orgasm quickly, and you waited for him to explode at his turn. but he was taking his time on purpose. he obviously liked to abuse this little cunt of yours, wrecking like it was nothing your cervix. he glared at your glistening eyes with a proud face, while hurting your sloppy cunt. “ be patient, sugar. it's a matter of time but daddy will make you melt, and you will make a big mess on his dick to show how grateful you are ? ”

you didn’t answered, even when he released your mouth from his hands, because of the overheating.

“ you better answer because i can go to the next round. ”

“ yes .. yes !! ”

“ you're so naive, sugar. trusting me this easy, it's your own fault if old men like me use you. like did you really think we will not go on another round ? i'm about to make you dumb. not only your brain, your pussy, all of you. after this, you will not be able to think, to talk and even to walk. ”

your tears made him cum, and you let out a noisy and desperate whimper. “ it's sad for you that i'm the only god you can pray for, because i'm going to ignore all your prayers, making you on your knees every time for nothing more than my own good. sweet lamb, i'm such an uncaring god. but you can't hate on me, even a little, such a pretty precious thing you are. ”

“ why ? ” was the only word that came out of your mouth.

in fact, you were a little sad about this, because you wished that he cared a bit, even an hint about you.

“ nobody deserve you like i do. nobody deserve to touch you, or put an eyes on you, no one. you're just mine, and i need you to understand that clearly. do you got it ? do you even understand what i mean ? i will never let someone have you. never. ”

“ i really love you. ”

“ not only you love me, sugardoll. you adore me, you cherish me, you can't breath without me. do you understand ? how trapped i made you.”

“ bu…”

“ quit crying. you wanted this, you begged for. ”

“ i thought you only wanted to kill me ! ”

“if i wanted to kill you, it would already be done. i don't mind having blood in my hands, i'm a killer after all. but yours, i promise, i would never dream of, sugardoll. ”

it was very sick. but his words made you smile.

“ i want to hug you ! ”

“ don't make me regret my words. i still can choke you to death. ”

“ can i ask a question ? ”

“ jesus, if you don't yap more than a thousandth time each day, you're dead or what ? i swear, tell me your question, but choose it carefully because it will be the last. so, use your dumby brain very well. ”

“ i just wanted to know…if it's the first time you do this with one of your victims ? ”

“ why do you want to know ? ”

“ you need to answer ! ”

“ and you need to mind your own business. ”

“ i asked you a question ! it's not fair if you don't answer it ? ”

“ you better not try to raise your voice at me because i can shout, and trust me, the tears i will bring in your face will not be that pretty. ”

“ you're still mean to me…nothing has changed. ”

“ and you're still annoying. yes, nothing has changed.”

and you smiled at him, your sweet eyes melted on his unhichanged look.

“ someday i know you will love me too ! ”

“ bold to have faith, better to work on it, sugardoll. ”

you gave him a sweet look, even if he was grumpy, you wanted him.

[mellowwillowy]

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲

Yan! Lawyer Husband x GN Spouse Reader

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

CW: mafia related stuffs (ALL FOR READER...), disturbing ideations. NSFW

You were the subject of envy for everyone, the spouse of the infamous lawyer, Yulian de Alpheus, who possessed wealth, reputation, intelligence, and undying loyalty to you. To people, you were the beautiful dove living in the gilded cage he had given you, luxuries that fulfilled anyone's needs and wishes.

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒈𝒆?

To him, the one who was truly locked in the cage was him. He was and would forever be locked in the gilded cage, forever drowned in his adoration toward you. If he had to live in a world where you did not exist, he would not hesitate to shoot himself to death and find you again.

--

"Dear, how about we go on a vacation this month?"

His words had you choked on your food. He immediately stood up and pat your back, a handkerchief that you embroidered for him handed to you as he handed you a glass of water, "Apology, did my question catch you off guard dear?"

You shook your head while you regained your composure, "It's just that I was surprised, you had been busy these days so how could you spare me your time for a silly vacation?"

Yulian chuckled as he patted your head, "True, and I plan to work even harder to finish all the mess they had shoved me to work on, I'm sure I could finish it right in time before our estimated vacation."

You frowned to yourself, your husband had always been a hard-working man. It was no surprise judging by the amount of assets he could own at such a fairly young age. While some of it was thanked to his father, you knew those would not remain had he not worked hard to keep and grow.

"Dear, I don't want you to over-exert yourself with this case just for a vacation. If you were worried about me then please pay no mind, I am content with everything but you stressing yourself."

Yulian sat back and started slicing the meat on his plate, "Dear, I did not marry you just to have you live in this house as a prisoner," the way he sliced things was of good etiquette but you knew. You knew how he always looks at the things he sliced as a subject of... low-life. "I want my beloved to live in happiness, a life where you get to have and own anything you want without a single worry," It's almost as though he wished he could use more force with the knife, "A life where you do not wish to end," Yulian used his fork to pick the sliced meat up to your lip, "A life where you wish you could live in for eternity."

You thought to yourself for a moment, drowning in thought before smiling at him, "Yes, a vacation this month sounds nice." You opened your mouth and ate the piece.

--

"What were you even thinking about to the point you tangle yourself into this mess?" Yulian furrowed his eyebrow, in his office was the leader of a renowned mafia group in the underground world and Yulian sat on the leathered chair with his hand wiping his white gun.

The ringleader's subordinates were clearly displeased with the way Yulian easily belittled the case and him but they knew better than to cause a mess.

"So? What do you need this time?"

Yulian stored the gun back in its respective place, locking the shelf with the key before handing the ringleader's subordinate a folder of files.

"I'll need you to fabricate everything I handed you. I've given you options of people for you to use as a scapegoat as well."

The ringleader took the folder and started reading the files in it, scanning the words that were typed on it.

"And I expect you to finish it all by this week. I'll be taking a vacation for myself by the end of the month so I'll finish the case in a few trials. I'd like you to find a way around the judge and jury as well. The more the better, understood?"

Yulian was an infamous lawyer. A lawyer who would validate any way to make his client proclaimed 'Not Guilty'. As much as he hated having to drag his name around the underground world, he had no choice but to work together with them. Why?

"Fine, I'll inform you everything this weekend." The ringleader left the room with his subordinates following behind him meekly. The moment they had walked out of his building and entered the car, one of them posed a question.

"Why did you let that shrimp belittle you, boss? It's not like he is the only lawyer we could have our hand with."

The ringleader did not look at his subordinate as he was still analyzing the content of the files. Even so, he was still attentive enough to answer them back, "Well, if you know exactly how strong my influence is, why do you think I allow him to boss over my men?"

The man gulped as his hand held the steering wheel tightly. Why would a measly bug be able to hold power over his boss?

"... He somehow got his hands into our mud. In simpler terms, he blackmailed me."

His right-hand man sighed, "Yulian is nothing but a coward, Kaspar. A coward."

What difference did it make to him? The fact that the two of them blackmailed people to survive while the ideations were biased to each side was nothing but hypocrisy.

"And yet he is the coward that dared to step into the underground world just to protect his spouse..." Kaspar winced at the word 'spouse', "he did all of that just for the love of his life. Is that supposed to be considered foolish or not...?"

The men fell silent until one of them proposed a question, "Then why not use his spouse against him?"

--

The basement that you did not know even existed. You knew there was a bunker down your house but you were never aware of the existence of the basement.

You were asleep so technically you couldn't have heard anything. No, the room was made to be soundproof, no one could hear what was going on in the room.

But you heard it anyway. You heard it faintly, the sounds of people screaming. It wasn't clear, almost below a whisper but it kept you awake. You looked to your side and found your husband absent from the bed again.

"Is he working again?"

You stood up and slipped your feet into the slippers before walking out of your shared bedroom. The hall was lit up by the warm white lights, the light that always comforts you no matter what. You walked toward his office which was located on the first floor, giving the grand door a knock before entering it.

"Dear?"

No one was inside the room. The room was laced with the smell of coffee, the only thing that he probably could love aside from you. You walked to his desk and read some of the files on it. The words on the paper were beyond your comprehension so you stopped reading it, glancing at the cup of coffee, you feel the cup with your hand. It's cold and full. Weird.

You took a look around his office, bookshelves on the side while a framed portrait of you and him hung on the other side.

He must have really loved this portrait, refusing to change it with a new one.

"Dear?"

You jumped at his voice, where did he come out from?

"Dear, where did you come from?"

"Ah, I was in the washroom. What brings you here? Did something wake you up?" Yulian asked you as he approached you while drying his hand with his handkerchief.

You took a closer look at it, it's not the same handkerchief you gave him. Weird. He had always been insistent on only using the handkerchief you embroidered for him.

"Dear?"

"Ah," you snapped out of your thought, "it's just that... I felt lonely. How long are you going to stay up again tonight dear?"

Yulian thought to himself as his eye shot toward the corner of the room, "Please, don't wait for me. I won't be finishing my work in any time so I hope you would use those time to retreat yourself to bed." Yulian pat your cheek before giving your cheek a peck, his emerald eyes had always drowned you in a ripple of the lovesick sea.

His hand snaked its way to your waist as he led you back to your shared bedroom, opening the door for you and urging you to lay on the comfortable white bed. He placed the blanket on top of you before sitting next to you, humming a lullaby while easing you down.

"My little Lily of the Valley is a curious soul hm? Your husband told you to sleep and you naughtily sneaked out of your room..." He playfully reprimanded you while you tried to drift yourself back to sleep. Hearing him teasing you like this was weird, but at least in a good way. What boosted his confidence?

"Someone like you should not wander around in the mercy of nighttime, even if it was in our own house," his hand caressed your hair while his eyes stared into your half-lidded ones, "my lily-of-the-valley should not wander around in the darkness anymore..."

Did you hear him right? Come to think of it, what woke you up earlier?

"Good night, my love."

--

"Good night, bastard."

A thud and the man who was tied to the chair plopped down, lifeless. The other men could only tremble in horror as they waited for their turn. Perhaps death would be the only slightest bit of virtue that he could offer, a mercy at his hands that was covered in bloodstains.

Just as he approached the other men, the alarm rang. Someone had entered his office. Yulian turned on the screen to the camera and saw you walking toward his desk, observing everything that was scattered on it.

He was glad that he didn't put anything 'suspicious' on it even if you wouldn't understand it. He didn't want to risk it.

Yulian went to the sink and washed his hands before motioning for someone to come out from the darkness. The members of the mafia walked out and waited for his order.

"Ah right, relay this message to your boss. Not only do these bastards will have to face the consequences of trying to touch my beloved, you guys too, will have to face it."

The men shuddered in fear as they thought of what he could do to them. The greatest mercy they could have would be that their boss would be the one who punished them and not the lawyer himself.

"Remember," Yulian walked toward them, hand taking out the handkerchief you embroidered for him, "I work for Kaspar so that this kind of thing won't happen. If this happens again, I'd personally make you guys crawl through the tunnels of prison for eternity."

His emerald orbs almost lit up into a burning fire as his jaw tightened in anger. He made his way toward the door before taking a look at the handkerchief.

He shouldn't use it for something so filthy.

He slid it back into his pocket and used another plain handkerchief instead.

--

"In short, he is the man who would not hesitate to kill his own children, his own blood and flesh, or his family just to save and love his beloved Lily of the Valley."

Kaspar sighed as he read the report. The scapegoats that he offered were his men who were on duty to protect his spouse.

"He is the man who had lived for eternity just to find and love his beloved again and again."

-- log end

Afternotes:

I didn't expect the fic to be this short (says the one who got lazy mid-way and cut half of the story...) anyway, I thought to myself, rather than let this rot in the draft, wouldn't it be better to post it even if it was only half completed without any proofread yet?

I'm really happy my first LIfE Project event features my favorite son, Yulian first! The next one might be Eleanor!

Complete Posts

[corollaservant]

Night in the Net // Shigaraki x f! reader (18+)

Synopsis: You find yourself stranded in one hell of a sexist environment: the small town's internet café. Shigaraki's on the night shift. (3.6k)

Warnings: sex with Shiggy basically, mild degradation and misogyny from our fav incel, dom!Shiggy with a twist (no quirk obviously), use of “dollface” (i like it)

A/N: No dark themes here, peace n luv. Also.. yeah he is always linked to some gaming/electronic business ik!! but I like the trope/hc/almost canon.

You'd never imagine this was how your night would end.

Why are you there again? Right, your friends wanted to go to that after party, as if the club wasn't enough. What was supposed to be a night out ended up with you in the local internet café (the only after hours spot) while your friends decided to go to a house party with loud techno music, which definitely wasn’t your vibe. You and your friends lived close and would often call a taxi on your way home, money wasn’t enough for you to ride solo today though—you prayed in times like these that you at least had a job; you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone then. 

You knew pretty much everyone there, it’s not like the town had more than ten thousand residents and considering the age group and schools you’d all gone to, the internet café only had a few unknown members. On today’s shift was none other than Tomura of course, that guy was taking up as many shifts as his body would allow him to, apparently there was this rumor a family member was in crucial condition and they were in need. Tomura Shigaraki was one of these people you had branded as incel. Though hardworking (he kept a house of his own, cleaning and doing all chores by himself while providing for whomever he had), you still considered the guy as one. Now—you know the term is heavy, matter of fact, quite offending and serious as an allegation but it’s not like there weren’t rumors. Rumors he’d bash women and call them prostitutes, try to sleep with girls and trash them to his friends a day later, hating them for anything they did and claiming true love didn’t exist nowadays because “all women are sluts, who need money and validation.” Plus, he worked at the local internet café (should be enough reason), engaging in heated conversations with his friends and fellow streamers. God, one look in their chats and you'd get as violent as possible— (not much, you'd discovered it the hard way). Thus, it was no surprise that when you enter the place, you hear whispers and scoffs.

‘’The hell are you doing here?’’ A voice was heard from within, the café had the computer screens up front, a bar and a couch with TV in the back. Tomura was occupied in the designated bar the place had (you often wondered what kind of needs these people had—all they ever consumed was energy drinks and pre-packaged meals, takeouts were for reasons of competitive market prohibited).

‘’Just dropping by for a couple of hours, will leave soon.’’ You sigh as you take a seat on the couch, not bothering to talk to anyone, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. Loud noise and laughter can be heard all around, a couple of guys swearing and some younger boys excitedly standing above their screens. The store had a 16+ policy, but of course, no one ever checked so kids could practically stare unattended. Tomura also encouraged younger boys to play, such a piece of shit, you think, getting them to learn young. 

‘’Oh my fucking God, a slut just joined!’’ You hear some guy swear, presumably because a girl joined their online server. These guys were so disgusting, you cringe, it was no wonder they were celibate without wanting it. You stand up, you need to kill some time and you're feeling bored, you think about starting a fight with Tomura, how else could you have a little bit of fun?

You weren’t ever necessarily afraid of the guy, even though you had to admit, he looked intimidating. Quite tall with a pale complexion, ashy, dull hair and scars across his face; no one actually knew much about him and whether he was troubled, it’s not like he ever showed to work beaten up or high and usually kept a low profile. The only frightening thing this man had was his smile, it terrified you sometimes as it looked downright evil. 

‘’Getting them to learn young, huh?’’ You ask him, he’s washing up some cups from the previous round of gross gaming guys, who have now left.

‘’What?’’ He responds, not bothering to look up. 

‘’How to not get women, I mean.’’ You sigh as he huffs in annoyance.

‘’You should be grateful I let a female in my store in the first place.’’ He retorts, but doesn’t seem very angry, just ironic. Usual.

My store (you decide to skip over 'female') sounds funny but you choose not to comment on it. 

‘’So how long until you guys close?’’ You don't bother with the vocabulary—it’s routine at this point. It also never ends well and you had a great night so far, why ruin it now?

‘’Two hours.’’ 

‘’Mind if I sit on the couch? I’ll be quiet I promise’’ You ask—technically beg, as you see no other options.

‘’Ugh.. yeah I mind. There’s some guys wanting to use it, I have a group for GTA on the PS5.’’

‘’Seriously? People still play that?’’ You whine but force yourself to continue.

 ‘’Can I sit with you then?’’ It takes strength—but you say it regardless. You came to terms with the fact he was your last resort minutes ago.

‘’Sure. But you need to make yourself useful. Here, take this.’’ He hands you a wet sponge, ‘’Wash these up... carefully, while I go clean the floors.’’ He orders, as if you’re part of the staff (and new on the job apparently.)

‘’Do you actually want me to wash freaking dishes? I just came here to chill, I don’t even bother anyone!’’ You start feeling annoyed with the chores, you aren’t 16 and he isn’t your mom.

‘’You can always leave.’’ The running tap stops and he turns to you, practically shoving the wet gloves on your chest. 

‘’Or...you can stop being a brat and be of use during your stay, I have two hours left.’’ He smiles, that same smile that makes your skin crawl and blood boil as he moves away.

‘’Fuck! My dress, you asshole!’’ A wet patch now covers the too short dress as you glance at the time on your phone. 

Two hours. Two hours until your friends leave and he closes up anyway.

-

Tomura was at least true to his words. Within two insufferable hours of having to listen to appalling conversations between men (hardly to be considered as such), plate washing and the toilet being constantly occupied, the last customers get up to leave. 

You dry your hands and plop down the couch exhausted.

‘’Finally.’’ You exhale checking your phone, your friends hadn’t given you any life signs in the meantime, so you decide to patiently wait, they’d message eventually. Tomura is done sweeping the nasty floors from crumbs and dried Monster remnants, which he still has to mop (for the fourth time, you note and you've only been there some hours). You notice how restless he seems—the guy has been running the whole night after ignorant customers, who had not once shown basic respect for the order of the place yet never complained. Truly a shame he has such a misogynistic mindset, you think. He could get women, if he wanted to. 

It’s around 6:30 AM, when he presses a button to close the store's roll-up shutters halfway. Small light outside makes its way in but the place is still relatively dark, as he places the mop near the wall and takes a seat next to you.

‘’Fuuck, I’m so tired.’’ He sighs, making sure to spread his legs on the couch as much as he can, not caring (of course) about you also sitting on it. 

You always branded Tomura as an incel, that you knew about. But despite that, you now can’t help but feel for him, not knowing much about him at the same time. Sure, he technically isn’t the nicest guy but a look around would show you that he tries enough for a job kicking his ass. You find yourself sympathizing with a man, whose ideals you hate and try to brush these thoughts off.

‘’And why the fuck am I an incel anyway?’’ He asks, his head rests on the couch and his eyes are closed, he is scrunching severely—almost threatening to fall down. And he manspreads. A lot.

‘’W-well– I..’’ You never thought he’d caught on to that, stammering to stand your ground as you continue. ‘’Well, there have been rumors about you.’’ You say, but it doesn’t come off as confident as you’d hoped for. You also realize, it sounds kind of stupid.

‘’Reaaally? And you made sure to believe them, right?’’ His tone’s laced with irony but the way he talks like he whispers in a raspy voice doesn't annoy you anymore. It makes you more... uncomfortable? On the edge? Excited?...what?

‘’It’s not like you don’t claim it yourself.’’ You retort, finally finding some courage. You notice him looking at you as you awkwardly shuffle in your seat.

‘’All I’ve ever said was that I think women are good for nothing. And I still believe that, but I wouldn’t waste more of my time on that.’’ The statement makes you roll your eyes.

‘’How can you generalize a whole group of people, who are literally in no way inferior to you, you can’t tell me you’ve tried—’’ 

‘’Listen dollface, unless you want to change my mind there’s no reason to fuss that much, my opinion won’t change.’’

Unless you want to change my mind?

‘’I-I don’t.’’ You stammer, because the answer and pet name (dollface??) takes you by surprise and he laughs.

‘’Relax, you branded me an incel.’’ He jokes, ‘’don’t want the rape allegations on me too.’’ 

The more he talks, the more your mind races and you curse yourself. He seems..funny? He has a mole under his lips—fuck, it looks cute...He also looks good so (stupid as it is, yes!) you silently want his attention. Why can’t he just look you in the eyes more?

This is so wrong. He must've noticed your lost gaze as he speaks up.

‘’Wanna watch a movie?’’ He proposes and you nod, anything is better than the silence hanging in the air. Silence you caused. For thinking... things about him. 

Of course Tomura ends up choosing the most depressing film anyone can possibly watch in an internet café at 6 AM, Fallen Angels, and the dramatic cuts make it hard for you to concentrate. He at a certain point leans closer to you but you justify it, how else would he be able to see?

During this one scene, the woman pleasured herself with her legs closed, rubbing together and that’s when you feel a soft hand touch on your thigh. The dress you wore rode up, because your legs rested on the table ahead so it gave him the space he needed. The movement made you tingle and your core involuntarily contracted. The smooth fingers teasingly trailed up and down your leg, from your knees to your inner thighs. You didn’t want to look at him—he was too close and the scene seemed endless. But…he went on about it as if nothing was happening. 

Without saying a word, he carried on. A pad of his finger tip dangerously close to your now heated entrance, the images flashing before your eyes lewd, his hand tempting and threatening to reach your already soaked cunt—all this while the two of you hadn’t even shared a kiss. But he doesn't stop, looking ahead and acting like everything’s fine, until he touches your lower lips and you hiss, his finger traces the wet spot over your underwear while you try to move and speak up. 

‘’W–what are y—’’

‘’Shh..’’ is all he says. 

You want to tell him no. But no to what? You like the feeling of his two fingers against your folds. His palm moves your panties to the side and he stuffs them inside—they dampen from the fluids. How is he that quick? You can’t form a response but you’re about to ask him why—

‘’All that and I haven’t even kissed you.’’ He murmurs, gaze still fixated on the television ahead as you moan, when he slowly pumps them within your walls. Fuck, are you turned on by this?

‘’P-please..’’ You whisper, turning to look at him and for the first time, his eyes are removed from the stupid TV, a sly smile on his features as he tears away his hand.

‘’What is it? Want the incel to kiss you? Maybe even fuck you to prove a point?’’ He says and you frown.

‘’I—no, I have to go.’’ You get up, fixing (lowering) your dress—you have nowhere to go but you’ll figure it out eventually. You think staying longer only plays into his cruel intentions and whilst you can’t deny the pleasure he could give you, your pride’s in the way.

‘’You’re not going anywhere.’’ A wet hand clasps around your wrist and brings you on his lap, as he grins; you seem confused at the sensation. You are hiding the TV screen but he couldn't care less, he never paid attention to the movie.

‘’Feel the stain you left, too?’’ He says as he brings your face closer with the sticky palm grabbing you by the hair. You softly moan, noticing the small mole up close and feeling a bulge poke where your bodies meet. You sway your hips in a silent effort to have him initiate a kiss, you feel desperate and curse yourself again internally. He can only smile.

(You were so clueless, walking around in that slutty dress earlier—making him hard like that, did you even know it?)

He’s quick to kiss you, eager for more already, as mouths clash, teeth collide, the need you both have exceeds proper manners. You sloppily grind against him, the friction from a long outline beneath you makes it hard to think.

‘’I’m guessing, you’re really fucking the incel then.’’ He half smirks as he grabs you and repositions you to sit on his now fully hard cock that throbs in his pants; he lifts your dress above your ass and guides your hips sluggishly back and forth—he’s tormenting you and he enjoys it to the fullest.

‘’T-tomura..p-please.’’ You whine, the urge to have him inside you makes you blabber.

‘’Please what?’’ He slides a hand behind your waist, lowering it to find your slit from behind, his fingers pet your cunt and you moan. Loudly. He is tugging at your panties, the fabric annoys him and he wants full access and the words. The words to prove his point.

‘’P–please...fuck me already!’’ You breathe out and he groans to the sound of your voice. 

The ironic remark he prepared evaporates as he quickly pushes you back, just enough to not fall off his lap and quickly unzips his pants, thanking god for not wearing a belt. 

His pants and underwear are sloppily moved down his knees, as his cock jumps with a pop on his lower abdomen, stiff with a weeping tip. Pretty veins throb around it as your eyes widen.

Shit, he’s big, can you take him?

‘’I’d ask for a nice blowjob, dollface, but wouldn’t want the feminists after me.’’ He says as he brings you close, kissing you yet again, a string of spit runs down your jaw, as your hands roam his tangled, uncombed hair. 

He positions you on his cock, one hand snakes around your waist while the other one clings to the back of your scalp and you’re swiftly lifted by the head and pushed down on him, as you let out a scream.

‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ He hisses, quickly looking around, the sensation from almost his whole length makes you tremble, he feels too full, too painful...too good.

‘’Shit, c’mon now you got this.’’ He encourages as you hesitantly move up and down his cock, gripping his shoulders and looking at him; he seems more concentrated on the sensation than your body, staring at you while you wrap around his length.

‘’Fuck...dollface, this too much for ya?’’ He tries not to grunt and you give your best not to cry, each moment that goes by turning the initial pain to pleasure—your cunt adjusts slowly and bit by bit to his girth. 

‘’T-tomura... y-yes..it’s too much!’’ You whine, sweat forms in your forehead as his hand finds your swollen clit and circles it while your nails dig deeper in his shirt.

‘’You can take it.’’ He says, he feels you squeezing him in, you bounce with dedication on his legs, making the couch squeak as if on some sex tape—you want to bring yourself even closer. So nasty, aren't you? Acting righteous, only to fuck yourself on his cock like a desperate whore.

‘’I-ugh-p-please..’’ You try to speak but he secures his hand around your torso and sinks (lower than before) down the couch. Two strong hands force you to stay still in the air while he drills himself into you at a steady pace, kind of sloppily too. Both of you moan, the position gives equal pleasure, your clit bumps on his groin and his cock reaches your g-spot with ease.

‘’S–Shit, you’re squeezing way too much, haven’t you been fucked like this before?’’ He sounds annoyed but the stammer in his voice betrays him.

Not like this, you want to say but can’t really speak the words. Your weight falls entirely on him, he doesn’t mind one bit—he loves it actually, this skin on skin contact as he guides you on his cock, it feels surreal. He hits soft and spongy spots inside while you slowly fall apart. 

‘’T-Tomura right there..I ugh—I'm close!’’ The sensation overwhelms you, his eyes are still fixated on your face, yeah I can tell, he thinks. He gets off on your desperation, mouth parted all for him? Your eyes threaten to spill by the way he tears apart your cunt and morals bit by bit.. it’s–

‘’Tomura, aren't you closing yet?’’ Someone asks from outside, interrupting the moment. The shutters only reveal a pair of shoes. 

‘’Yeah, I’m on it.’’ Shigaraki stops composed, cockwarming you in a funny way, while a hand, his hand covers your mouth. Your eyes widen as slick trickles down his thighs in silence.

‘’Alright, see you then.’’ The man leaves and he cusses him out. (''Cunt.'')

‘’We’re not done.’’ He turns his attention back to you and seizes your face, bringing your mouth closer.

‘’Open up.’’ He orders and you do, clenching around him in anticipation.

He spits in it and closes the gap with his index finger. 

‘’Swallow or I won’t continue.’’ You quickly gulp down.

‘’So obedient all of a sudden, aren't you?’’ Sarcasm evident as he gives your ass a solid hit, before starting to get back on his pace, only more rough this time, he longs for your release on him. You’re moving up and down his length, trying to grab anything accessible really, his hair, the back of the couch, under his shirt and you feel your orgasm resurface stronger; the delay highlighted all of your senses.

‘’T-Tomura—’’ You shudder, as his cock hits your g-spot expertly–fuck, this guy wasn't some incel–and your swollen clit has to brush one last time past his groin before you feel an overwhelming orgasm take over. You clamp down his length and moan embarrassingly (Fuck Tomura! I–I'm...too good!) This time he lets you, he needs to hear this.

‘’Fuuck—agh, look at you dollface.’’ He hums, a feminist creaming herself on my cock, he wants to add but it’s too many words and you just came so he wastes no time. He brings your neck close to his mouth and bites on it, teeth sink into your flesh and hands force you all the way down. His cum spills inside and he groans, trying to stifle his moans by biting down the sensitive skin even harder. 

And fuck if that isn’t hot.

He keeps you on him, arms fasten around your waist with cum dripping onto his lowered pants but neither of you bother to care; ragged breaths and the sounds of the film still playing are audible as more light enters through the rolled shutters.

God must’ve been on your side that day because a message appears on your screen moments after you both wordlessly got up and cleaned yourselves in the bathroom. Tomura would have to clean again, you think, as the message on your phone signals your time to leave.

You turn to look at him, he has removed his shirt and small nail scratches decorate his pale back and you..smile. What the hell? Was this..? Oh no—You try to find an appropriate goodbye.

See you soon? Thanks for the mind blowing dick? You aren’t the incel I thought you were? Everything seems embarrassing at present time. 

‘’I-I’ll be seeing you soon.’’ You opt for that, stupid as it is, you still look at him in anticipation. He turns to you, hands on the mop cleaning near the couch and nods. 

Great, you think, that was a disaster. You defeatedly walk (actually stoop to get past the almost closed door) feeling like a hooker after a client, miserable and kind of used. This is always the worst part. 

You feel an arm touch your shoulder, you’ve only taken a few steps in the daylight.

‘’Take this in case you revoke your incel statement.’’

Tomura hands you a piece of paper and quickly disappears behind the store’s shadows.

[redwinelew]

you're my best friend | lewis hamilton [1/3]

social media au. black + actress!reader

summary — you and lewis have been the best of friends for years but the world thinks there might be something more. until.... (read part two here)

face claim — taylor russell

song — you are in love by taylor swift (taylor's version)

warnings — fluff (for now, more angst in the future lol), inconsistent timeline, lmk what else i missed

author's note — as always pls ignore the dates, time, likes, rts etc i really can't be bothered to change them 😭😭

all pictures taken from pinterest. credit to owners.

instagram!

liked by hoooooyeony, ayoedebiri and 2,473,928 others

tagged ynln

lewishamilton happy birthday to the girl who always puts the biggest smile on my face. i love you sweetheart.

view all 4,847 comments

user1 the caption is so fucking insane lmfao

user2 show this post to someone who doesn't know who they are and i bet that person will most definitely that they're dating

user3 user2 ???? are friends not allowed to wish each other happy birthday now or did i miss something

user2 user3 not with that kind of caption no you don't lmfao

francolapinto happy birthday ynln !

ynln francolapinto thank you franco!! ❤️❤️

user4 they're just friends yall they've been friends for years pls

user2 user4 uh huh yeah sure jane

user5 user2 maybe don't speculate about real people's personal life??

user2 user5 can't i'm too nosy

user5 user2 ok yk what what's kinda valid

user6 thank god they're just friends actually cause otherwise the age gap would be insane

user7 user6 1) none of your business if they're dating or not 2) she's a grown 30 year old woman???? istg why can't yall just let ppl be happy

chappellroan happy birthday baddie

ynln chappellroan *totally not freaking out that my fave singer just wished my happy birthday* thank u queen!!

user8 ynln bestie that is SO real of u

ynln you're extra sappy today

lewishamilton ynln it's your birthday of course i'm sappy. i'm always sappy for you.

ynln lewishamilton loser

lewishamilton ynln just for you

user9 ynln lewishamilton i'm gonna jump off a cliff

twitter!

instagram!

liked by mercedesamgf1, tomholland1996 and 5,387,282 others

tagged lewishamilton and mercedesamgf1

ynln i was lucky to have been there during your glory days, but i think i was even luckier to get to support you through one of the most difficult moments in your career and maybe even your life back in 2021 because i know that those dark days would not last forever. i hope you know that you deserve every bit of this win, my darling angel. i love you so much lewishamilton.

view all 7,383 comments

user1 i feel so normal about this caption

user2 what kind of friends call each other sweetheart and my darling angel

user3 user2 ikr like atp they're def oblivious

user4 user3 or maybe they're just scared to confess bcs they don't want to ruin their friendship

user5 user2 there's no way that they're dating like have u guys seen his dating history? he likes older women (nicole, shakira). yn is only 30. maybe they really are just friends

user6 user5 yeah now that u mention her age...... kinda weird to ship them idk

user7 user6 girl she's a grown ass adult woman tf are u on about 😭😭

zendaya send my congrats to him ❤️❤️

ynln zendaya i will!!

messages!

twitter!

messages!

— thank you for reading! part 2 is coming soon <33 as always reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated!!

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Fingering, Slapping, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex 

Summary: You didn't forget about her, did you?

A/N: The final part!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

You're fed up!

You're so tired of that miserable woman and her threats about getting you evicted from your apartment with no valid excuses whatsoever! She just gets you so frustrated! It's to the point you can't even think straight with all your anger blinding you. You just seem so angry at everyone lately with your shitty week! First it's your stupid professors and their shitty assignments, then it's Miguel fucking O'Hara and his tendencies to give you the best orgasms of your life and then run away, and now this cranky old bitch who doesn't want to hop off your-

It's just too much in too little time. So rationally, with the clearest thoughts you've had all week, you'll give her something to complain about. And you know exactly the person to help you. You help him, he helps you, after all. Plus, he wasn't paid you back for helping him put away his groceries three weeks ago (no, that orgasm he gave you did not count!)

Your hand throws a rapid succession of sharp knocks at his door, your brows furrowing in impatience when he doesn't answer right away. You huff, instead slapping your hand against the door. You almost fall when the door is roughly yanked open, a shirtless Miguel appearing with a scowl marring his face until his eyes land on you. The anger instantly dissipates into concern, his mind running thousands of different scenarios through his head about the reason why you would be beating down his door so desperately. He opens his mouth, ready to ask when your palm lands flat against his toned stomach, pushing him back into the apartment.

"Need your help." You say flatly as you slam the door behind you.

"My- what? With what?" Miguel asks, his eyes dropping to where your hand is still pressed into his warm skin. He has to fight the urge to grab you by the wrist and force your hand further down.

"Noise complaint."

Miguel is even more confused now, eyes shooting up to yours in surprise. Why would you need to file a noise complaint? He hasn't heard anything obnoxious on their floor or the ones below and above. "About who?"

"Me."

Miguel's head is reeling when your lips crash into his. There is no sweet, calm period, it's straight messy and desperate. Your lips move frantically over his, your hand reaching up to twist the hair at the nape of his neck as you pull his head down. One of you moan- he's not quite sure if it's you or him- when you tilt your head to the side, allowing your tongue to push through the seam of his lips. Miguel's hands blindly grab for your hips, his exhales filling your mouth as he squeezes his eyes shut. Your tongue feels so warm wrapping around his, and his mind floats to how it would feel on his cock. It would be absolute heaven he's sure. Heaven with a high risk of him cumming in seconds like a teenage boy. His mind briefly drifts to the dream he had of you sucking him off, and his dick fucking cries.

His hands shift down your hips, reaching back until your ass is in his large hands. This time he knows he's the one moaning as he kneads the flesh through your pants, pulling you closer against his body. The kiss is sloppy, tongues fighting and saliva coating both of your lips. Your hand, still resting on his stomach, travels up. His skin burns under your touch, enticing and begging to be marked with hickies and bite marks.

You yelp into his mouth when he picks you up, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist to keep yourself from falling. Your ass is right above his straining erection, and you can already tell he's bigger, maybe even thicker, than what you've fantasized about all those days ago when you tried to stuff yourself full with your fingers. The train of thought crosses over to something else as Miguel sets you on the nearest surface. He places you on the dining table, and you know that you would be able to see the counter where he first played with your cunt over his shoulder. Your cunt that still has that untouched spot deep within you and you can't fit more than your two fingers into. Your two fingers that are the equivalent of one of his fingers. The fingers that are sliding into your panties.

His mouth parts from yours as his fingers brush over you clit, your hips bucking into his hand. He trails his mouth along your jaw, sucking right below your ear.

"You want a noise complaint?" He asks, his fingers circling your already weeping hole. "Then I'll make sure everyone on this fucking floor reports you."

On cue, you let out a high pitched squeal as Miguel suddenly thrusts two thick fingers into your tight pussy, your walls stretching rapidly to accommodate the intrusion. Your mouth falls open as your hands grab desperately at his shoulders, your nails digging crescents into the skin as he begins pumping his shoulder rapidly. There isn't a single ounce of preparation, your mind splitting in two as it tries to process the rapid pleasure overcoming your senses. You barely register anything besides the way Miguel curls his fingers into your cunt, eyes rolling back as the anger slowly melts into euphoria.

Your moans are loud and candid as you slowly buck into his fingers, head falling back as you take your pleasure from him. It makes Miguel chuckles, it's so easy to make you sing for him. He rewards you with a bite to your neck, causing you to gasp as it ignites a fire in your soul. He laps at the mark, soothing the burn as your thighs begin to shake. His fingers are abusing your cunt with the way they're pushing in and out of your cunt, effortlessly finding that gummy spot that has your toes curling. Your orgasm rips through you as your body jolts and shivers, pretty moans leaving your mouth as your orgasm washes over you.

You're so lost in your high that you don't realize Miguel's fingers aren't inside of you anymore and your lower half is bare. Your shaking thighs closing when a loud slap resonates in the room as his palm makes contact with your sensitive pussy. The most pornographic sound he's ever heard leaves your lips as you register the pain and pleasure coursing through you, glassy eyes staring down at Miguel's new position on the floor as he kneels. He forces your thighs open, eyes dark as he studies your quivering cunt. It's so adorable that he can't resist pressing a tiny peck to your twitchy clit, moaning as he gets a preview of your sweet arousal. It's addicting, and he's finally getting a chance to taste it again. He hasn't stopped thinking about it since that day in your apartment, the taste lingering in his mouth as he jerked himself off.

He pulls away again, giving another slap to your cunt before diving into his meal. Your mouth falls open in a shocked moan as he desperately sucks at your folds, your hands falling to his hair to press him closer. His tongue swipes at every inch of your skin, getting drunk on your sweet nectar and your string of noises. It's so, so sweet. His grip on your thighs tighten, loving the sticky juices that begin to coat his chin as he shakes his head between your thighs. His nose swipes against your cunt as he takes long licks along your cunt, making your body jump. You push him closer into you as you try to pull away, caught between the sensitivity running through your body and the need for more. Not that he would allow you to escape, he isn't quite down with his fill yet.

You cry out when his tongue pushes through your hole, scooping the cum and shiny arousal out of your cunt and into his eager mouth. He moans against you, sending vibrations through your body. Your body is getting so weak, forcing you to slowly lower yourself onto your back on the table. Your legs slowly lift to hang off his shoulders, your fingers knotting in his hair as you slowly ride his tongue. Miguel hums in approval, sticky clicks of his tongue attacking your clit as your body shakes harder. Your back arches as you calm again, riding his face frantically as you squirt over his face. Miguel thinks he could die like this, drowning in your juices as high pitched keens leave your lips.

Your skin feels sticky and gross against his table, your limbs weak and slightly aching from how intense your two orgasms were. You're sure you'll get plenty of complaints now, just as he promised. Your chest heaves with the effort to catch your breath, and your chin presses into your chest to look down at him. Your cheeks flush when his droopy eyes meet yours, his face dripping with your release. You open your mouth in a shy attempt to thank him, but your mouth runs dry when he stands up and his heavy dick lays hard and eager in his hands.

Your eyes can't leave his red, leaking head. He really is big, impossibly thick too. He chuckles at the wide look in your eyes, his hips leaning forward to swipe his precum over your sensitive clit.

"Don't fool y'self into thinking I was done, nena." He grins, slapping his dick against your cunt to watch the way your clit jumps. "Can't let y'go without feeling you gush around my cock."

You whimper when he pushes his tip against your hole, stretching it wider than it has even been stretched before. Your body twists in an effort to get away as he pushes further in, his hands holding your thigh and hip to keep you in place. Your nails try to dig into the polished wood of his table, only a sharp screeching noise being the result of your effort. Miguel pushes you closer to him, enjoying the scream you let out as your cunt swallows his dick to the hilt. Your walls are already pulsating around him, trying to push him out and pull him in deeper at the same time.

Miguel grits his teeth as he slowly pulls his hips back, slowly sinking into your plush warmth. He bites his lip as he groans, eyes focusing on the way he disappears into you. This is far better than what he could have ever imagined, with the way you hiccup moans and your cunt flushes around his length. He's fucked after this, and he'll be damned if he ever lets you leave his bed, or kitchen table, after this.

Miguel leans forward, his forearms planting on either side of your head. His pelvis is flush with yours, and you can feel his muscles pressing down on your stomach. You whimper at the feeling, slightly breathless at how intense everything is. With the new position, Miguel begins drilling into you at a steady pace. Faintly, you register the scrapping of wooden legs against tile, and you only feel slightly bad for his downstairs neighbors. On the other hand, Miguel is too focused on the obscene squelches leaving your cunt as he bullies his cock into you, his mind fogging. Both of you are slightly delirious, lost in the feeling of his dick pressing against your cervix. Miguel is babbling in your ear, gruff promises about something involving a credit card and tuition and tying you to his bed forever that you barely register over your own moans. You think something about a baby might have been thrown into the mix, but you don't quite care outside the need to have him fill you.

Your hands rack raised, red lines down his back as your body jolts with each thrust. Your eyes are squeezed shut as your body burns to the point of being uncomfortable. You call out to Miguel, only to be answered with a rough grunt. Your eyes slowly peel open, taking in the slightly blurred frame of Miguel. If you thought you looked like a hot mess, then you have nothing on Miguel. His hair, damp from sweat, hangs over his glowing eyes, a dark flush covering his face. His lips are parted slightly, heavy exhales leaving his lips as he basks in the feeling of having your walls sucked around him. The sight alone triggers your orgasm, head being thrown back as your walls clamp around him. Miguel groans, his hips stuttering before he's pressing flush against you as he cock twitches with release.

Both of your heavy breathing fill the room, Miguel's body slumped against yours. Your hands slowly trail up and down his back as you both try to calm down, and you whine from both sensitivity and disappointment when Miguel slowly pulls out of you. His hand pushes his limp hair back, a slightly dazed smile on his face as he takes in your body. Your shirt clings to your body from the sweat the two of you have built up, your thighs still open to reveal your abused cunt. Miguel has to look away, too tempted to see how hard he would have to thrust into you to make the table break.

Even with your body feeling heavy, you push yourself up as Miguel moves to turn away. Your body gets a shot of adrenaline as panic courses through you. Your hand snaps to his wrist, keeping him in place. Your eyes are wide as you look at him, and the fear is clear as day. Miguel chuckles at your silly reaction, taking your chin and pressing a kiss to your lips. This one is slower than the last, but just as consuming.

"Relax, gonna clean y'up. That's all." He reassures, pushing your hair out of your face. "Not planning on leaving."

He doesn't plan on letting you leave either, you'll need a place to stay after you get all those noise complaints anyways.

Extra 1

THE END!!!!! Request what you will with these two, I wouldn't mind doing little side stories about them hehe.

[cakelitter]

A+

Prof! Leon x Fem! Reader

warnings: p in v, age gap, forbidden relationship, mentions of cheating (not on reader)

summary: Leon is your physics professor; Leon is also in between your thighs eating you out like a man starved because you were “such a good girl for sucking him off so well yesterday”. His words not yours.

He’s too good at this, too good at dirty talking, too good at sucking your clit, and too good at fucking you stupid. You’d be damned if you sleep with another college guy again.

words: 1.4k

a/n: this one is pretty short, I kinda wanted it be nastier, but maybe next time. Like always, typos don't exist and you're imagining things. Enjoy!!!

Life fucks hard, but professor Kennedy fucks harder.

Slamming into you like there is no tomorrow, letting out all of the pent-up frustration he experienced since the last time he was in you. You just know that you’re not going to be walking straight for the next couple of days.

Your friends think that you’re in a situationship with a guy you’re talking to. Fawning over the gifts he sends you and the attention you get; begging you to drop his name or at least show a picture of him.

Reality is, they sit in his class at ten every Mondays and Wednesdays, drooling over the sight of him and forgetting to pay attention to the material he’s explaining.

You did the same back when you first met him, heart eyes and your jaw on the floor. But instead of letting your mind wander off like they did, resulting in them failing his class. You averted your attention to not letting a word slip out of his mouth without burning it into your mind.

Spending hours upon hours studying for his tests to make sure to ace them, asking him questions after class as if you couldn’t recite word for word each law and theory he discussed. Sitting front and center in his class to make sure the two of you have plenty of eye contact.

It’s often that you came back home frustrated from the sight of another student hitting on him; jealousy coursing through your veins causing you blood to boil. Word got around pretty quickly that there is a new hot professor; girls overriding his course and wishing they were riding something else.

He had plenty of fan girls, not sure if he picked that up though. Even though he’s a fucking genius, he’s a bit dense. Bless him.

Validation and attention were your fuel, running on them like your life depended on it. And he fed you them, each time without fail. Praising you “dedication” and “passion” for physics. While you couldn’t give less of a fuck what color newton’s underwear was, of what Bohr thought was the right way to solve an equation.

You wanted him.

How is it your fault if he had the body that no physics professor should have. Massive biceps, and puff chest filling out the white button up shirt he was wearing; genuinely feared that one of the buttons might break loose one day and hit you right in the eye.

He was hot, and disgustingly smart; rambling on and on about a some of the nerdiest things ever. It was cute, your eyes drinking up that small smile that would form on his lips whenever he’d get carried away.

God bless the day you decided to sign up for his class; it wasn’t luck, or a coincidence, it was fate. A reward and a compensation for all the hellish days you went through before.

You still remember the day you first met him; god, you looked so stupid. Forgetting how to talk, walk and breathe when you realized you were the first to walk into his class. His bewitching blue eyes moving over to the door that you just walked through.

He flashed you a smile, greeting you, and you almost came on the spot. Staring at him like a deer in head lights, double checking the room number incase you walked into the wrong class. Making sure your voice doesn’t break when you greeted him back.

Ever since then, you made extra effort to look good whenever you had his class. Wearing the shirts that make your boobs look perkier, and the skirts that make your ass look irresistible. You’d twirl with your hair, give him bedroom eyes and participated in class.

Truthfully, in this situation there was no chance of losing. If you didn’t succeed romantically, you sure as hell gave you GPA a boost. Not to mention, the outfits that you wore were pretty attention grabbing, gravitating some other men towards you.

Luckily though, all that effort paid off.

Day after day, week after week, you started noticing him reciprocating your attention. Looking at you for a little too long, making conversation with you after class, even dropping his eyes over to your lips every now and then.

Leon is your physics professor; Leon is also in between your thighs eating you out like a man starved because you were “such a good girl for sucking him off so well yesterday”. His words not yours.

He’s too good at this, too good at dirty talking, too good at sucking your clit, and too good at fucking you stupid. You’d be damned if you sleep with another college guy again.

Fucking you in ways you’ll never mentally recover from, and giving you all of his sweet sweet attention.

However, the ring wrapped around his finger single handedly shatters the fucked-up fantasy that you’re living, serving as a ball and chain around your ankle, or is it his?

Aside from Leon being your professor who’s dick you’ve seen more than you can count. He’s a husband to a woman he married ten years ago. One that he never likes to talk about or mention, changing the topic each time you try to bring it up.

But from what you pieced together; they don’t seem to have the strongest bond.

Once, one of the students was making conversation with him and brought up his marriage. His mood soured; knots formed between his brows as if a feeling of disappointment rose from the mention of it.

Honestly, you feel guilty as fuck. Nausea and anger taking over you each time you remember the reality of the situation.

If people found out, you’d get stoned to death by everyone you know, and rightfully so.

Whether Leon’s wife fucks him as good as you do or not, or if she loves him this much or not, or if she gives him the amount of the attention you give him or not, it doesn’t matter.

As much as guilt is a heavy feeling; lust is way heavier.

Tasted his poison and got hooked, letting it travel through your veins and up to your mind, blinding your vision and leaving you begging for more.

Love is blind, but lust is deaf. Unable to hear the sound of common sense knocking on your door as you lean in to kiss him more, silencing your conscience as his hand travels beneath the waist band of your panties.

He gives you his back as he pours you a glass of wine, and leaving the silver band behind as he makes his way back to you.

The advantages of sleeping with your professor sure do out way the disadvantages. You get to be late for class as much as you’d like, homework is optional, and tests are always a guaranteed A+. Obviously, Leon appreciates it way more when you work hard for that though, but instead of getting some tame praise like you used to; he gets to reward you in more creative ways now.

Leon loves it when you mention how much you care for him, how much he means to you, how much you crave for him. Drinking up your words like he’s never heard them before, like you just said something he’s been dying to hear for decades now.

Leon loves it when you dress up for him, when you put in effort to look good, when you call for his attention.

Whispering sweet nothings into your skin as post sex sleepiness starts to overtake your senses, his large hands holding you close against him as he stares into your heavy-lidded eyes like you just saved his life.

Cherishing every moment with you like he can’t believe you’re here. Placing his head on your chest as he falls asleep in your arms, your hands tangled in his hair, scratching his scalp gingerly. His rough stubble juxtaposing your silky skin, hot breath fanning out on it.

You told yourself that was the last time you’ll feel his skin on yours, that this has to end, cause it’s no good for you, cause it’s not who you are, cause it’s wrong.

Yet, here you are standing in front of the hotel room he always books. Hand reaching up and knocking on the hard wood, as the knob twists revealing his handsome face before he steps aside to let you in.

Stepping into the space, he hugs you from behind, dropping his head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around you tightly. His perfume enveloping you, with a gentle kiss being placed on the crook of your neck.

“Missed you so much, baby.”

divider by @/chilumitos

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 3)

summary: you continue to spend more time with hugh, realizing just how different your lives are and while it scares you, hugh does a great job at reassuring you. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), reader has some description (hair, outfit), angst - mentions of a past toxic relationship (gaslighting) reader thinks too much and has insecurities, suggestive smut (brief oral - f receiving), no use of y/n. word count: 3.9k a/n: ok, so this relationship is moving fast but let's be honest, i feel like hugh would definitely know a good thing when he sees it lol. this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman (it's the only way i can live out my fantasies of this man lol). prev part. - next part.

You wake up the sounds of Hugh’s quiet snores. You still can’t believe you spent the night. One of his arms is draped over your waist and you’re very aware of the lack of clothing between the both of you. True to his word, Hugh devoured you last night. His tongue, his lips, his fingers– the man knew exactly what he was doing. You were hesitant at first, seeing him between your legs, mouth inches away from where you needed him the most. He could sense your nervousness and had gently placed a soft kiss on the inside of your thigh. 

It was such a simple act, but it provided all the reassurance you needed. Hugh was the first ever person to go down on you and you fear that he’s ruined it for you. If this didn’t work out, you’re sure that there won’t ever be another man to do it like him.

You’re lying on your back, arm resting over his. He looks so peaceful, so unbothered by the responsibilities and realities of the world. His snores even provide a level of comfort that you know can lull you back to sleep. It had only been a week since meeting him and while you certainly didn’t plan for any of this to happen, you can’t imagine it being any different. 

You liked Hugh. A lot, and it scared you. Not because you didn’t think you weren’t ready to get into another relationship, but because your worlds were just vastly different. 

But you remember what he said yesterday and it brings a smile to your lips.

“I don’t want this to be casual.”

You turn slightly to face him, watching as he moves with you, lying on his back instead as his arm drops from your waist. You lie on your side, bringing your fingertips to gently run across his chest. He’s still snoring, but you can’t help but notice the marks you left on his body. The scratch marks on his arms and you’re sure there are more on his back. 

This doesn’t feel real. It’s like you’re in some kind of dream and you’re afraid to wake up, not wanting this to end. Yesterday had been one of the best days you’ve had in a very long time and you had Hugh to thank. Not only was the sex amazing, but the conversations and laughter you both shared was just as great. 

You know you shouldn’t be comparing Hugh to your ex-boyfriend, but you can’t help but reflect on just how different they both were. Whenever you were talking, Hugh always made sure to keep his attention fully on you, eyes staring into yours, hand holding yours or resting on your back. With Hugh, you felt seen. You felt heard. You felt like your voice mattered. 

With your ex-boyfriend, you always felt like you were bothersome. He had always been very short with you, always on his phone, and very disinterested in what you had to say. Towards the end of your relationship with him, you had learned to keep quiet, learned to keep your thoughts and opinions to yourself. It wasn’t until the relationship ended that you realized just how much your ex-boyfriend gaslit you and your emotions. 

But with Hugh… You felt validated. You had to wonder if it had to do with the age difference. Your ex-boyfriend was just a year older than you; with Hugh being much older, you couldn’t help but think about all of the life experiences he must have gone through to get to where he is now. 

With Hugh, you feel so much more grounded. 

Wanting to surprise him with breakfast, you slowly climb out of bed and pull on your panties. You carefully tiptoe into his closet, making sure not to make too much noise. You pull on one of Hugh’s white button down shirts and slip it on, buttoning just a few buttons to at least cover yourself up. 

Then, you leave his bedroom and make your way to his kitchen. You don’t know if this is overstepping any boundaries, but you wanted to do something nice for him, especially after yesterday. 

You’re taken aback by the view of the city again. Hugh was right, watching the sunset last night was worth staying. His kitchen is so much larger than yours and you’re not sure where he keeps his pots and pans, so you open the cupboards to try and find them. When you do, you grab one large pan and place it on top of his stove and then open his fridge. You see a carton of eggs and a bag of spinach that you take and place on the counter. You remember that Hugh’s on a strict diet, so what’s healthier than an egg and spinach omelet? 

You also see his coffee machine in the corner and your eyes light up in excitement. Having been a barista all throughout your college years, you knew your way around a good coffee machine. 

It takes you about twenty minutes to finish cooking and making coffee. You’re about to set the table when you hear footsteps round the corner. You look up at him to see that he’s completely shirtless, but that he has put on a pair of sweatpants that hangs low at his hips. His hair is slightly disheveled and he’s yawning, but when his eyes meet yours, there’s a large grin that forms on his lips.

“Did you make me breakfast?” he calls out, walking over to you. 

“And coffee,” you point out. “I hope you don’t mind,” you say nervously. “I wanted to do something for you since yesterday was just such an amazing day and–”

Hugh interrupts you and cups your cheeks in his large hands, bending down to press his lips against yours softly. “I don’t mind at all, love.” Then, he pulls back enough to look down at what you’re wearing and he bites his lower lip. “And I certainly don’t mind this at all.” 

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you move to rest your hands on his broad chest. “I couldn’t find my shirt, so…”

“You could’ve also just walked around naked,” Hugh winks. “That would have been just as an amazing sight as this.”

You roll your eyes playfully and pull away from him, but he takes your wrist and pulls you back into his arms. 

“Wait,” he says quietly. 

“Hm?” 

“Good morning,” Hugh smiles, kissing your forehead. “Yesterday and last night was… It was wonderful.” 

“It was the best day,” you say softly, leaning into him. “One of the best I’ve had in a while.” 

“I can get used to having you here,” Hugh admits. “Is that– Am I moving too fast here?” 

You shake your head and run your hands to his chest and arms, gently squeezing his biceps as you bite your lower lip. “No, I just–” you sigh. “What if you get tired of me?” 

“I won’t,” Hugh reassures you. 

“But what if–” you shake your head, trying to force the negative thoughts out. You realize it’s lingering in the back of your mind. “You’re you and I’m me.” 

Hugh’s hands move to your hips, gently squeezing them. “He really hurt you, didn’t he?” Hugh asks quietly. 

“Hugh…” 

“I’m not him, baby.” 

“I know you aren’t.”

“Good because I know a good thing when I see it,” Hugh affirms. 

You bite your lower lip and look deeply into his eyes, feeling your heart swell at his words and at the sight of him. You can tell how serious he is, how his gaze doesn’t falter. “I like being here. With you,” you admit. “And I’m not just saying that because the sex is amazing.”

“But that’s one of the reasons, isn’t it?” Hugh winks, letting out a quiet chuckle. “You know, I haven’t slept that good in a very long time. Something about having you next to me brought me a lot of comfort.”

“You have a way of words, don’t you?” You smile, leaning up to gently peck his lips. 

Hugh laughs quietly and pulls away from you to walk over to the plate of food. “I just tell the truth, baby.” 

You roll your eyes and sit on the stool, looking up at him as he takes a bite of the egg and spinach omelet you created for him. He lets out a quiet groan of approval and looks in your direction, grinning. 

“So, you can cook too?” 

“And make coffee,” you wink. 

Hugh arches a brow and takes a sip of his americano, brows raising upwards. “Wow. Yeah, I need you around here like… All the time. Can we arrange that, you think?” 

“Hmm,” you look up in thought, resting an elbow on the island. “I will need some closet space, a corner on your bathroom counter–”

Hugh lets out a laugh and sets his fork down to walk towards you, turning your body on the stool until your back is resting against the counter and his hands rest at either side of you, caging you in. He bends down so that you’re at eye level with him, a smirk lining his lips. 

“Whatever you want, baby, you’re gonna get.” He leans in, brushing his lips against yours. 

You move to wrap around arms lazily around his shoulders and stare into his eyes, running your fingers through his hair. “You should finish your breakfast. You’re bulking up for Wolverine, so you need your calories.” 

“I also need some cardio too,��� Hugh grins. “Wanna join in on the session?” 

You bite your lower lip in anticipation and nod slowly. “Meet you upstairs?” 

Hugh shakes his head and moves his hand to your hips, lifting you off the stool with ease and placing you on the edge of the counter. “No, baby, gonna need you to wait right here for me.” 

“Like a good girl?” you ask, bringing your hands to play with the buttons 

Hugh grins and nods, continuing to eat as he stares at you,eyes dropping to see your legs cross over one another. Then, he reaches out and taps your knee. “Leave ‘em open for me.” 

You nod and then spread your legs for him, looking up at him in excitement.

Hugh’s eyes narrow and he takes the last bite of his omelet. He sets the plate in the sink and then walks to stand between your legs, reaching up to undo the button on the shirt you’re wearing. Once it opens, he clears his throat and moves his hands to push the shirt off your shoulders, exposing your chest to him. 

“Gonna have an early morning dessert, if ya don’t mind, baby.” Hugh smirks, hooking his fingers into your panties and sliding it down your legs. “Been thinking about this since last night. Tastes so good,” he growls. 

Then, Hugh dips down between your legs and you feel eyes roll in the back of your head once his tongue darts out to taste you. 

—

It’s been a full week since you spent the night and Hugh craves more and more of having you in his home with him. It’s been a very long time since he’s felt like this and he’s known to fall hard and fall fast, but he’s being careful this time around. He doesn’t want to push you if you aren’t ready, but he can’t help the way you make him laugh and smile, how he feels more at calm with you by his side, and how excited he gets whenever he falls asleep with you in his arms because he knows he’ll wake up with you by his side. 

Hugh knows that he’s going to get busier as the months pass, knowing that for the next year, he’s going to be focused on preparing to come back as Logan. While it should deter him from continuing to see you and committing himself to a relationship, it surprises him that it doesn’t. He isn’t the type of person to take things for granted and he always went after what he wanted, and you– Well, you have been such a nice surprise and he can’t even think about the possibility of letting you go. 

He thinks back to the last time you were here, teasing him about how you would need closet space and an area in his bathroom for your things. You might have been joking, but Hugh takes it seriously. He’s already given you more than enough space in his closet, walking inside to see the vacant space along the wall. He stands there, arms crossed over his chest, as he imagines your things here with his. 

Hugh’s mind drifts when he hears his phone ring. He looks down at it and sees your contact name; he always smiles at it: Swole-mate 💪

“Hi, baby,” Hugh answers immediately. He can’t ignore the way his heart rate speeds up, his stomach doing flips in excitement just to get a chance to hear your voice. “You almost here?” 

“Yeah, just a few minutes out,” he hears you say. “Are you sure spending the weekend is okay?” 

Hugh leaves his closet and begins descending the stairs to greet you. “If I had it my way, you’d be here for more than just the weekend.”

With the silence that comes from you, Hugh just knows that your mind has drifted and so when you pull into his driveway, he hangs up the phone and waits until you park to approach you. Once you climb out of your car, your eyes meet his and Hugh smiles, walking towards you. 

“Your mind just doesn’t shut off, does it?” Hugh says, taking your hand and gently pulling you to him. “What’s goin’ on in that beautiful head of yours, baby?” 

“Nothing,” you sigh, resting your cheek against his chest as your arms come up to wrap around him. You feel safe with him, but you know that you both need to have a serious conversation about where this will go. He had mentioned to you that his schedule was going to get busier and you wanted to know where you fit in with all of that before you allow yourself to fall in deeper. 

Hugh brings a hand to rub your back, placing a gentle kiss at the crown of your head. “I don’t believe ya,” he says. “Let me grab your things and we can head inside and talk?” 

You nod and release your hold on him, watching him walk towards your trunk to grab your duffle bag filled with clothes and toiletries to last for the rest of the weekend. Once he shuts your trunk, Hugh reaches out and takes your hand in his, leading you inside his home and up the stairs to his bedroom. 

You’ve been thinking so much since the last time you were here, trying your best to stay in the moment and not expect too much, but when Hugh mentioned his schedule for the next few months, you started to pull away. You didn’t want to put your all into this if it wasn’t going to go anywhere. Hugh sits at the edge of his bed and looks up at you, head tilting to the side. 

You’re pacing back and forth in front of him and he reaches out for your hand to pull you to stand between his legs. 

“Hey,” he says softly. 

You don’t look at him, letting out a quiet sigh.

“Baby,” Hugh says again. “Look at me.”

You clear your throat and turn your attention to him. There are tears stinging your eyes and you aren’t even sure why you’re getting so emotional, but there is a bit of fear knowing that this may be the last weekend you would spend with him. 

“Talk to me. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s goin’ on in your mind.” 

“You’re going to be busier,” you point out, biting the inside of your cheek. “And I don’t want to hold you back. I know we literally just met two weeks ago, but I’m okay with ending things the way they are now. It’s been more than amazing to spend all this time with you and–”

“Ending this?” Hugh interrupts, confusion written all over his face as his brows furrow together. “Do you not want this?” 

“No, I do!” you sigh, looking down at your hands that are currently holding onto his. “I just– I don’t want you to have to worry about me while you’re away shooting and you’re going to just be so busy. I know what you do for a living and it’s to be expected, but I just feel like you’d worry while you’re away and I don’t–” you let out a shaky breath and shake your head. “Am I even making sense?” 

Hugh sighs. “You are making sense,” he reassures, bringing your hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. “But I guess I just don’t understand. You won’t be holding me back.”

“Hugh,” you close your eyes for a moment and release his hands to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I like you a lot and it scares me,” you admit. “It scares me because I don’t know how I fit into all of this. Into your life.”

“Really?” Hugh asks. “Because I can see it so clearly.” 

“What?”

“I can see how you fit into my life so clearly,” Hugh repeats. “And you’re not tied to a job here. You travel for work too and I may or may have not talked about you to Ryan and Shawn…” he admits quietly. “Anyway, I know it’s scary because this scares me too, but I can’t…” he shakes his head, looking up at you as his hands move to rest on your hips. “I can’t even fathom letting you go and I don’t want to either.”

“I’ve given my all before in a relationship and in the end, it only hurt me…” you reply with a shaky voice. 

“I know,” he sighs, eyes softening as he slowly stands up. Your hands drop from his shoulders to his waist as Hugh’s hands cup the base of your neck, keeping his eyes solely focused on yours. “And I can’t promise that everything will always be okay, but I can promise you that I’d always put you first. No matter what. Whatever this is between us,” Hugh continues, his thumbs brushing against the corners of your eyes as he feels a couple of tears trickle. “I want to believe that it’ll work out.” 

“We’ve only known each other for two weeks,” you whisper. “I’m way in over my head. You must think I’m crazy.” 

“Like I said… You have a lot of love to give,” Hugh whispers, gently pecking your lips. “And I’d be a lucky man to be on the receiving end of your love one day.” 

You bite your lower lip and wrap your arms around him tighter, moving to rest your forehead against the crook of his neck as his hands drop from the base of your neck to rest on your lower back. Hugh can feel the weight lift itself off your shoulders as you relax into him. He peppers kisses along your cheek and tightens his hold on you. 

“Feeling better?” Hugh whispers into your ear.

You nod against him. “Yeah, thank you, Hugh.”

“All I ask is that you talk to me, baby, okay?” He asks, pulling back to look down at you. “Whatever is bothering you, I don’t want you to hold it in. I’m here to listen.” 

“God, you really are perfect, aren’t you?” you laugh quietly, pecking his lips. 

Hugh smiles to himself. He realizes that he hates seeing you upset and when he hears your laugh and sees the smile on your face, he feels proud, accomplished. “I’m not perfect.” 

“I’d say otherwise,” you smile, looking deeply into his eyes. “I’m not used to talking about what’s bothering me or my feelings, but I’m learning.”

“This will always be a safe space, okay?” Hugh tells you. “You’re safe with me.”

You hug him tightly, burying your face into him as you let out a sigh of relief. You feel his arms tighten around you and it brings you so much comfort. Being here with him, in his arms, brings you comfort. You feel him fall back onto his mattress, taking you with him as you curl against his side, arm draped over his abdomen as his arm hooks around your shoulders. 

“So, you told Ryan and Shawn about me?” you ask, looking up at him. “As in the Ryan Reynolds and the Shawn Levy?” 

Hugh laughs. “Do you describe all people like that?”

“Only celebrities,” you correct. 

Hugh looks down at you and shakes his head, a smile lining his lips. “I did, is that okay? I know we never talked about who can know and who can’t…”

“It’s okay, Hugh,” you reassure him, kissing his chest. 

“I’d tell the whole world, if I could,” he says honestly. “But whenever you’re ready, baby.” 

You nod, shutting your eyes as you rest against him. “Thank you,” you whisper. “For not pressuring me. For going at my pace. I know it must not be easy, but you have no idea how much it means to me.” 

Hugh hooks a finger under your chin, eyes scanning your features as he bites his lower lip. Your eyes remain closed as he brushes his thumb lightly along your jawline. “I’d wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

“Yeah,” you smile, turning your head to kiss the pad of his thumb. “You’re perfect.”

Hugh laughs to himself and then holds you tighter into his side. “So, I also told Ryan and Shawn you were a photographer and they may want to meet you to discuss a few things.”

“About my work or about us?” you open your eyes at that, looking up at him.

“About your work.”

“But I’m an engagement photographer, and last I checked, they’re both already married.” 

Hugh smiles. “Well, I also showed them your other work…”

“Oh, but those weren’t really serious… They were just for fun. Landscapes, street photography.” 

“They were just as good, baby.” He tells you. “And it’s possible,” he grins. “Or rather, they will be asking if you’d be interested in being our on-set photographer, taking pictures behind the scenes.”

Your eyes widen slightly, looking into his eyes. “That would mean I’d be there with you.”

Hugh nods slowly, the grin remaining on his lips. “Exactly, you’d be there with me on set of Deadpool & Wolverine. You sure you won’t get tired of me?” Hugh asks.

You shake your head and move to straddle his waist, resting your forearms down on either side of his head on the bed as you feel his hands move to your hips. 

“Isn’t that a question that I ask?” you tease, nose brushing against his. 

“It’s a valid question.” 

“No, I won’t get tired of you, Hugh. How can I?” you whisper, brushing your lips across his own lightly. “I mean, I think you’ve ruined other men for me.” 

Hugh growls and wraps an arm around your waist, rolling you over onto your back as he settles himself between your legs. “Good,” he says huskily, rolling his hips against yours. “Because you’re mine now.”

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1 - @wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf - @needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[bloodmoonmuses]

come back to me | mark lee

summary: your boyfriend, mark, drunkenly recounts the day the two of you met. (mostly to prove to haechan and johnny that love does, in fact, exist. even in the most unlikely of places.)

genre: mark lee x reader, established relationship kinda... but, like, also a meet cute? young love and all that jazz lol

It’s cold outside, the beginnings of winter trickling in with bitter fervor, yet you’re warm. Or rather, being warmed by the illusion of heat that courses through your veins: liquid courage. Now on your second bottle of soju, your form feels pliant, watery even, as you sway in the wind of your friends’ joy. 

In a booth (the leather of which is crackling at the seams) that forms a sort of semi circle, sits you, Mark, Johnny and Haechan. The wooden table before you is littered in plastic shot “glasses” and fried chicken wings that have been picked clean, and the bar is quite lively despite it nearing one in the morning. You lie your head against Mark’s shoulder, lost in the feeling of his muscles tensing and relaxing repeatedly beneath it.

“You good?” Mark whispers to you, shimming slightly as if to jostle a response out of you.

The words that escape your mouth feel fuzzy on your tongue, staticky around the edges. “Never been better.”

For some reason, the night has taken a nostalgic turn, fueled by the alcohol in everyone’s system. Haechan and Johnny have been arguing about their love lives for the better part of an hour. It never fails to amuse you how much they like bickering simply for the sake of it. You tuned out about ten minutes ago when Haechan brought up Johnny’s commitment issues only to be met with a rebuttal about him using humor as a coping mechanism. Both comments clearly strike a nerve in the men respectively, deciding to psychoanalyze their exes in chronological order in an attempt to disprove the validity of one another's assertions. 

“I don’t like that we can’t make fun of Mark right now,” Johnny confesses when he’s finished talking about an ex who turned out to be a closeted sasaeng, turning his attention to you and Mark.

Haechan scrunches his nose, gazing upon you as well. “Look at you two… All cozied up- it’s disgusting.”

“Hey man,” Mark starts, “don’t blame me for the lack of love in your life.” You punctuate his declaration with a kiss on the cheek, giddy and lovey-dovey in your drunken state. “See?” 

Johnny pretends to gag.

“How’d you meet anyway?” Haechan asks, “-so I can avoid any scenario involving… that.”

“Mark hasn’t told you the story in, like, excruciating detail?” you scoff. “He’s told everyone.”

Haechan shakes his head. 

“Oh God, don’t get him started,” Johnny groans. Mark sits upright, effectively knocking your head off of his shoulder, ecstatic with the chance to relay the way you met each other in its sappy glory.

“Spring,” Mark starts. “I was seventeen, so I had just debuted a year before, and-”

The cherry blossoms. They were stunning, you remember. Glistening and quivering under the weight of all the raindrops that had accumulated on them. The sheen of puddles scattered on the roads and sidewalks... You took the bus to work, a little cafe job you worked while finishing up your requirements at the international school you attended, and during that time of year, those bus rides were some of the most peaceful times in your day to day life. 

You think back to your youth, bright eyes aged only seventeen years, and how the world then seemed filled to brim with possibility. One day in particular, a chilly one towards the end of spring, you remember watching Mark enter the bus, his boyishness evident in his untied shoelaces and clunkily carried guitar case. On his back was a spiderman backpack, you remember vividly, and his hair is frizzy from how light he’s bleached it. He comes off a bit frazzled as you watch him stumble into a seat, precariously balancing a flimsy pair of headphones on his head, and settle in it with his knees bent. 

Once he’s gathered his bearings, he takes off his backpack and retrieves a notebook and pen, placing it on his knees, and begins to write frantically- like if he doesn't put pen to paper in this exact nanosecond, the idea will leave and never return. In a world of sloth and languidness, you’re fascinated by his urgency. You take off your own headphones to hear how he sounds in the context of silence, it is seven in the morning after all, and it only draws you in further. The scratching of the pen against the paper, orchestrated by the humming that just barely escapes his lips lulling you into a state of hypnosis.

Periodically, he furrows his brows, tries out a different melody, then writes some more- over and over again, until the pattern becomes more fluid. More succinct. Like the beginnings of a fully fledged song. He’s smiling now, and you find yourself unknowingly mirroring his joy, the fuzziness of it spreading up your neck like a campfire consuming its kindling. You’re enraptured. 

You want to live inside his head. What a superpower to have; to breathe life into written language. And then suddenly, he’s stuffing his notebook into his backpack as quickly as he had taken it out. His stop must be coming up soon, you had thought to yourself. 

After putting his feet back on the ground, he gingerly places his palms against the bus window- as if to test its temperature. When deemed cool enough, he exhales against the glass, quickly etching a heart onto its foggy surface with a squeak. His fingers are calloused, that much you can tell even from across the bus, and he’s tired- if the bags under his eyes are any indication. Then, the bus crawls to a stop, and he stands. Again, you’re mirroring him instantly, body moving before your mind can catch up. It’s not your stop, yours is another three down, but you exit nonetheless, too enthralled by the boy in front of you to let him out of your sight.

You walk about a block, maintaining about a ten foot distance between the two of you, and watch him hobble down the sidewalk with his huge guitar case. He grunts occasionally, adjusting and readjusting his baggage when the weight becomes too much, humming all the while. Until, of course, he turns around, tearing the headphones off of his head, and asks, “Are you following me?!” in a frustrated huff. 

You stop in your tracks. Oh wait, you had thought, you are sorta following him. Well, the cafe is in this direction technically but-

“You’re not one of those people with a fansite, are you? Look, dude, I know we debuted last year, but I want a normal life just like-”

“I’m not a fan. I mean, not yet, I guess. Well- no. I was just… I’m not following you. Mostly.” you stammer. 

Mark scratches his head. “Then, what are you doing…?”

“You were writing a song on the bus,” you look at the ground, staring at your shoes in search of some solace, reprieve from the then stranger’s prying eyes. How did you think this would turn out any other way? “I thought maybe, you could… sing it. Like, out loud.”

Mark sighs. “Look, dude, I have practice and-”

“Right. I’m sorry for being weird, you just looked… Nevermind. Have a nice day- sorry to bother you.” You turn on your heels, in the complete opposite of the cafe you’re supposed to be going to, and make a break for it. As you trek up the hill, you shatter your reflection over and over again, the splashing of puddles beneath your feet the only sound tethering you to reality. 

“It’s not finished-” Mark starts, voice cutting through the rustling leaves and bustling city with piercing clarity.  You’re frozen, still facing away from the hypnotist behind you. “-but I could show you the idea. Because that’s what it is right now. Just an idea.”

You turn to face him. “Um. Sure. If that’s okay.”

Haechan interjects Mark’s storytelling, words warbling from his completion of a third bottle of soju for the night. “No way you actually sat down and played the song for-”

“Shh!” Johnny says, “This is the best part.”

“See, I knew you secretly loved this mushy-gushy stuff,” you say. 

Mark giggles. “So, like I was saying-”

You sit on a bench freckled cherry blossom petals and just-dried droplets of dew, knee bouncing nervously when Mark plops down beside you. Mark sets his guitar case down, flat in front of him, and opens it. Retrieving his notebook from his backpack once again, he places it on your lap, surprisingly enough. Wordlessly, he puts his guitar in his lap, throwing the strap over his neck and shoulders, and cranes his neck to re-familiarize himself with his feverishly scrawled ideas. Just before he strums the first note, he says, “Just an idea. Keep that in mind.”

Then he sings. A mix and hesitant laments of love lost, then found, yearning for the past, but hopeful for the future. But other words are not words at all. They’re more, like, messily sung runs. Like he’s sketching lightly, so he can erase later. He’s got a hook. He sings it three times, and the way his Adam's apple bobbles is now permanently etched in your mind. When he’s done, he opens his eyes slowly, assessing the damage done. He almost looks surprised that you’re still sitting there.

You whisper, voice whisked away in the gentle breeze, “I never asked your name.”

“Mark. Just Mark.”

“Nice to meet you, ‘Just Mark’.”

“What do you think? How do you feel?” Two entirely different questions, both of which hit your ear in a way that makes your stomach leap- or maybe it’s the gravelly timbre of his voice and unsure eyes.

“Good,” Mark’s eyes spur you on further, silently asking you to elaborate, “The song sounds good and I feel good.”

“Is that the only adjective you know? ‘Good’?”

“I know a lot of adjectives. I’m just… nervous. So, yeah.”

Mark grabs his notebook and returns it to his backpack, packing up his guitar as well. As he stands to leave, he turns and says, “Your name.”

“What?”

“You never told me your name.”

“_______,” you reply meekly.

“And your hand,” he urges, “give it to me.” You extend your arm and Mark delicately grasps your wrist. Then, Mark nervously scrawls his number on your palm, pen digging into your skin slightly. 

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. 

“If you have any thoughts beyond it being ‘good’, gimme a call.” And just like that, he’s gone, running down the hill to make it to practice on time.

As Mark ends his retelling of events with a wistful hum, Haechan chortles. “Yeah. You two disgust me.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello hello! I dunno if you’re taking request but I was thinking if you can write smth silly about reader pulling the “Fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine” trend on Ford :3

You didn’t know how you had gotten put in this predicament where you were standing behind Ford, all the while Mabel was hiding behind the doorway -phone in hand- as she gestured for you to grab Ford by his waist and pull him in close.

Oh wait you did know exactly how you had gotten in this because Mabel came up to you that very same morning, phone in her hand as though it was super glued there, as she shown you this trend couples were doing for public validation and praise; and or to rub their relationship in the publics face.

‘What am I-‘

‘Just watch.’ Mabel exclaimed as she pointed to her phone that she had shoved under your face just as the man grabbed his girlfriend by the waist and pull her in close in tandem with the lyrics; ‘fellas grab your ladies if your ladies fine.’ Just as the video ends and goes back to the beginning.

‘And what was I meant to take away from that exactly?’ You questioned, not understanding the point of anything that was presented to you, especially so early in the morning where all you wanted to do was enjoy your morning drink without having to think so hard. However there’s never been a quiet morning in the Pines household in the history of forever, and each time a member of the Pines Family was usually the source of the unrest.

Ford trying to catch his anomalies that somehow snuck into your room

Stan loudly complaining about his aging body while burning the pancakes because he wasn’t paying attention to it.

Wendy’s loud ass snores. She’s always hanging out at the shack so often you might as well consider her apart of the family as well alongside Soos, Candy and Grenda.

Dipper being Dipper

And now Mabel with this supposedly popular couples trend. You couldn’t catch a break but you loved this family and Ford too much to care about how early it was for their shenanigans.

‘You and Ford should totally do the trend!’ Mable said as she beams at you. ‘The people would love a cute nerdy couple like you two!’

You chuckled as you ruffled the energetic girls’ hair affectingly. ‘I highly doubt your Grunkle Ford would want any part in it, he’s been in the lab all week on a recent discovery. What it is he wouldn’t tell me. He only ran into our room one day to scream THEY’RE PROCREATING and left for the lab.’

‘Please! Please! Please!’ Mabel cried as she clasped her hands together and gave you the cutest pair of puppy eyes ever as you felt your resolve crumble the longer you stared into your niece.

‘Fine.’ You playfully groaned as you allowed the young girl to drag you by your arm and lead you down into the lab where Ford was, only to shove you awkwardly close to Ford while she hide near the doorway, phone in hand.

‘Hello darling.’ Ford greeted without looking up from his work, he claims he could tell apart your footsteps from the rest of his family, but you just assumed that Stan or Dipper or Mabel kept coming down and Ford took the opportunity to learn how each of his family sounded when coming down the stairs through specific things they did.

‘Hello sweetheart.’ You greeted back as you could see Mabel practically on the brink of bursting into confetti with how hard she tried to contain her excitement.

‘Grab him by the waist.’ Mabel mouthed, her eyes becoming comedically large glittery stars. ‘Grab him by the waist!’

You looked back at Ford who was leaned over his desk, looking over his work throughly with his brows furrowed and his glasses slightly drooping off his nose. He looked handsome when he was concentrating but in your eyes Ford was always handsome even when he was explaining to you dungeons, dungeons and even more dungeons.

You looked back at Mabel who had her phone In front of her -most likely recording you- before you took a deep breath and brought your hand to Ford’s waist, quickly pulled him close to you so that his back rested against your chest. Poor Ford was a flustered mess, his cheeks were aflame, his eyes were wide and you could feel how stiff his body was against yours, you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked in the moment.

‘What’s the meaning behind this y/n.’ Ford asked as he tried to calm his excepted heart rate and regain composure.

You kissed his cheek before nuzzling it slightly. ‘Did you catch all that Mabel?’ You asked, much to Ford’s confusion. ‘Mabel?’

‘Yes! I caught all of that!’ She cried as she popped out from her hiding spot, ‘this is going on the family group chat!’ She adds as she bolts up the stairs giggling and squealing to herself at how cute you and her grunkle Ford were, leaving you and Ford alone.

‘Sorry sweetheart, her puppy eyes are my weakness.’ You confessed as you rested your head against his shoulder, still holding onto his waist and breathing in his scent that never failed to relive you and any and all stress. Ford chuckled as he moved his head to kiss the top of yours, smiling fondly at your weak spot for his grandniece and nephew. ‘It’s alright darling, just let me know next time before you do something so bold, my old heart can only take so many surprises.’ He joked as he rested his hand atop of your own, rubbing the back of it soothingly.

‘I promise.’ You mumbled softly against his shoulder. ‘But you did look cute all flustered, do you like being grabbed by the waist?’ You then asked, only to receive silence on Ford’s and, which made you life your head from his shoulder to see that he was cover the lower half of his face with his hand.

‘Cute.’ You thought yourself, you might do this more often if this is the response you get, it was a power trip you didn’t know you needed over your cute but extremely smart fordsy.

[marlenesluv]

charles leclerc x uni student reader fc (gracie abrams) and she gets hated on because shes 21 and hes 26.social media au please :)

Who Cares? (CL)

note: ouuuu i fw this hard. i hope you enjoy it!! :)

summary + fc: all in the ask!

warnings: hate comments/hate from fans, language

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

liked by: charles_leclerc, yourbsf, and 468 others

y/n.user: pov its lock-in szn and u wanna make ur insta public😰

view comments…

yourbsf: girllll do ittttttt❤️😩

y/n.user: ugh don’t tempt me 😥

yourbsf: i need everyone else to see hot hot u r☹️

*liked by creator*

charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️❤️

*liked by creator*

unifriend: prettiest everrrr

unifriend2: the locking in is so real😥

y/n.user: i’m sayingggg🥲✊

landonorris: locking in…? sureeeee

y/n.user: *blocked*

landonorris: 😧

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: y/n.user, carlossainz55, and 1,242,985 others

charles_leclerc: pov its off szn and you’re public account is public!

view comments…

user3: uh…what?😭

user7: ar naur, who’s that girl????

y/n.user: 🙄🙄

*liked by creator*

f1wags: new wag??😍😍

maxverstappen1: are you on one? what is this caption

op81fp: what’s going onnnnnn

user8: i’m scared who is that?????

f1updates: anyone else see that charles only liked one comment? someone named y/n…?

user2: ewww she’s like 18

cl16edits: she’s actually 21 lol

user2: bro….that’s wayyyy too young for him. she must be a gold digger😭

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

twitter:

F1 Wags Updates @f1wagsupdate • 3hr ago

Hello, everyone!! We have some new information about Charles Leclerc’s ‘new?’ girlfriend! Buckle up!

After some in-depth research, the girl in his recent instagram dump seems to be Y/n Y/l/n. She is 21, born and raised in Monaco, and attending the International University of Monaco for Fashion.

One source, not wanting to be named, claims that they have known about the couple for six months! But they say it had been going on since the girl turned 20!

Comments are off in respect for Y/n and Charles. But, tag us in your own posts about your thoughts! Do you think she’s too young for him?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: charles_leclerc, lilyzneimer, and 17,293 others

y/n.user: brah🍸

view comments…

user4: this is his gf…😧

cl16ynstann: y’all mad cuz his gf is 21?? grow up! she’s naturally beautiful, i rather be charles so i could be with her😭❤️

charles_leclerc: bro🫒

*liked by creator*

user6: yikessss, she’s rly not wag material, charles!

f1fan8: she’s pretty…but the age gap?…

f1wags: not sure where all this hate is coming from? we welcome y/n to the f1 wags account with open arms☹️💙

danielricciardo: everyone in the comments are j mad they aren’t you🤍✊

y/n.user: lol

landonorris: “lol”?? nah, fuck that, we ride at dawn for y/n🤺

maxverstappen1: YAAAA🤺🤺🤺

cl16editttt: the drivers love her, i’m here for this

yourbsf: i love you😢💓

y/n.user: 😚😚😚

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

imessages:

kika imessage:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and 46,154 others

y/n.user: spent the day after class with some of my favorite people🥹☹️💛

view comments…

user3: gotta say, i expected her comments to be off after the hate but i applaud her

flavy.barla: le travail en classe ne s'arrête jamais, même pas au dîner😭

y/n.user: jamais💀

author: here to translate some apple translated french to english lol! flavy says: “the class work grind never stops not even at dinner😭” and y/n says: “never💀”

charles_leclerc: trop belle, amor❤️

y/n.user: ❤️❤️

f1wags: no cause i actually love her idc

user6: idkkk i still don’t see it…

user1: well, you don’t need to! they don’t gaf about you and your validation😊

landonorris: y/n would study at dinner

y/n.user: was this a diss? lame try again loser

landonorris: you mf 🙄🙄🙄

vroom16: lando and y/n’s banter keeps me alivee

francisca.cgomes: #thebest21yrolds🤍😚

*liked by creator*

y/nfan16: you guys need to wake up and realize that charles and y/n are adorable! kika and pierre have a bigger age gap and no one cares?? ur jealously is showing, gtfo🤣✊🤺

yourbsf: you four ateeeee

*liked by creator*

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your instagram story:

seen by: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 51,148 others

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: y/n.user, pierregasly, and 1,638,992 others

tagged: y/n.user

charles_leclerc: i love you, amor❤️

view comments…

y/n.user: cha🥹 i love you too❤️

*liked by creator*

user3: they really said “we don’t gaf. and what?”

f1wags: naurrr i’m i’ll that first photo has me sobbing i’m so single

pierregasly: the stink eye directed towards me in the second picture hurts my feelings still

y/n.user: get ovaaaa it

francisca.cgomes: get ovaaaaaa itttttt

pierregasly: nut cases, these two

user6: the more i look at her posts and pics people post of her, the more i realize how relatable she is

user2: FR😭 the constant stress of uni, coffee, sleepy, and she’s funny like ok same

cl16editpage: can’t wait to edit these two🥹💓

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)