#it has buttons. idk what to do with them yet

[xx-obliviousfantasy-xx]

OMG GUYS I HAVE A COMPUTER MOUSE NOW :D

[torchickentacos]

i will always shout praises of bi4bi but given recent discourse I feel the need to say that I love bi4het too! I just love bisexuality in general in its many forms, and anyone who only likes it when it's 'queer enough' for them is biphobic. Bisexuals should be able to bring their LaMe CiShEt BoYfRiEnD to pride without being made to feel like spectators and outsiders to their own event.

[tenwhiteandalusians]

so no one was going to tell me if i got literally one episode further tenax drops that he’s the one who saved scorpus from his mom’s pimp AND that he’s intimately familiar with scorpus’ dick when he was younger. guys. guys.

[bahoreal]

fireworks in my garden 🎇

[ham1lton]

HE SAYS TO BE COOL (I DON’T KNOW HOW YET)

pairings: jenson button x maneater!reader.

warnings: large age gap - around twenty years. a lot of judgement and criticism as there is scrutiny of your relationship.

summary: after a party at a mutual friend’s, you and jenson are photographed leaving together. the large age gap causes concern especially after your admission that you had a crush on him as a young driver.

author’s note: so this is NOT a part of the main maneater storyline. this is just a what if scenario. just something indulgent for the maneaters out there who go for dilfs! last time i checked the friendship group poll, it was practically 50/50 so until that’s decided, there is a big group of all them. also as per usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote <3

— a part of the maneater series ꕤ

liked by messybitch1, landonorris and 1,728,838 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: after the release of lewis hamilton’s newest almave drink, formula one driver y/n l/n, better known as maneater, was seen outside of the event looking quite cozy with former formula one driver and forty-four year old jenson button. how are we feeling about this new power couple, ham1ltons?

view all comments

user1: poor lewis. his drink release has been completely overshadowed by this news 😭

user3: age gap couples never last long lol. good luck but he’ll move on to the next twenty something as soon as she shows one sign of aging.

user34: SHUT UP HES SO FINE 😭 i’d do the same as you y/n girl.

-> user51: LIKE 😭😭😭 bffr. most of the ppl here would fold for their older celeb crush.

user7: idk who’s benefiting more from this relationship? but it’s definitely not love.

user9: Y/N!!!! I’LL SAVE YOU!!!

user2: not jenson going through his mid-life crisis post-divorce. girl u can do better.

user8: maneater… pls say this is a publicity stunt.

-> user73: no cause this genuinely might be her ticking off her childhood crush list. which is real but idk if it’s good for her?

user6: is she fucking all the aging drivers? or is jenson the only one stupid enough to say yes?

user25: i support it. i met my husband when i was 21 and he was 37 and we have been together almost twenty years this may. not all age gap relationships are inherently bad.

-> user4: you’re a victim 😕

user12: y’all are gross. any of us would jump at a chance to date our celeb crush. jenson is hot and y/n is a consenting adult. she’s not a child anymore. she didn’t even know him as a child. bffr.

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liked by bestie2, georgerussell63 and 3,828,782 others.

yourusername: what do you do when you haven’t seen your besties for ages? do a photoshoot in the middle of the street. how did you spend your weekend?

view all comments

bestie1: we look so good!!! it was soo good to catch up babe. we missed u!!!

-> bestie2: we’ve all been so busy it’s insane how we’ve not been able to see each other more. i was going insane without my girls!!!

user1: is she not even gonna address it?!

-> user6: big ass elephant in the room.

user4: we knew how you spent your weekend ms l/n.

landonorris: am i not your bestie? why wasn’t i included?

-> georgerussell63: or me?!

-> alex_albon: or me? 🤨

-> logansargeant: or me?? 😕

-> oscarpiastri: i get why i wasn’t included tbf.

user10: u think posting pretty girls will make us forget ur weekend escapades? … maybe. keep posting.

user2: can you guys not make everything about a man? who cares if she’s dating jenson? what does that have to do with her ability to do her job or advocate for causes?! i feel sorry for her because you guys clearly dislike her for stupid reasons and are twisting this into a way to jump her ‘ethically’ which doesn’t even make sense. the only problematic thing she’s done is date a man older than her. grow up, my god.

*liked by landonorris, bestie1, bestie2, georgerussell63, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, logansargeant and 45,728 others. *

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liked by charles_leclerc, bestie1 and 1,092,728 others.

yourusername: italy, i love you ♥︎

view all comments

user3: get you a man that flies u out whenever ur sad.

-> user7: why are we not assuming she flew HIM out?

-> bestie2: he definitely flew her out. lmao.

user89: feels like a disaster waiting to happen lol.

-> logansargeant: not every relationship is like your parents. get therapy instead of projecting onto strangers.

user6: still a whore. i can’t stand this bitch.

-> oscarpiastri: stay mad! she’s young, successful and has many people who love and support her while you’re cursed to just scroll through her posts and seethe in your head. this one sided beef is crazy 🤣🤣!

user9: they’re cute!! idk how i’m the only one who thinks this.

user67: she’s still ugly.

-> alex_albon: looked at your pictures mate and cheers, my nan just vomited.

user12: when he leaves her >>>>

-> georgerussell63: 6.220.183.12

-> user3: NOT THE IP ADDRESS HELP?2&/&

user8: jenson. call me when you need a real woman.

-> bestie1: where is the real woman you speak of? she’s definitely NOT you.

user21: honestly? i just can’t get on board with this ship.

-> landonorris: you can’t even afford a ticket 🤣 delete this.

user10: i’m not saying shit cause why the y/n defense squad dragging people in the comments 😭

liked by oscar.priv, alex.priv and 21 others.

maneater.priv: NEED HIM CARNALLY <3

view all comments

bestie1priv: thank god he doesn’t know about ur priv account. i think he’d combust.

-> maneater.priv: nah he giggles. he thinks its funny.

oscar.priv: everyone on a campaign to save you from jenson when they should be saving jenson from YOU!

bestie2priv: LOVE U BOTH <333 cutest couple!

lando.priv: dare you to post this on ur main 😏🤣😁😝

-> george.priv: 43.0.109.12

-> lando.priv: MAN COME ON 😭

don’t want to miss out on my next post? join my taglist! if you enjoyed this, check out my masterlist or buy me a coffee! no pressure ! <3

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 1 ] || [ Chapter 3 ]

Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ cw: a bit of dirty talking/innuendos Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 2: Johnny

“Oh, hello…” You remarked to yourself as your eyes locked into a stunning pair of blue eyes on your screen, stopping your mindless right-swipping. “...Johnny.”

“You’re 29… A soldier… Scottish… Are you friends with Kyle?” You mused playfully. “Let me guess, you’re a gym bro, aren’t you?” You asked sarcastically as you tapped your finger on the right side, skipping through his pictures. The first one immediately after was him lifting while wearing a weightlifting belt. “Yup… Mandatory gym pic.”

Chuckling to yourself, you snap a screenshot of his profile to the girls as well, sending it quick.

leah: @/mia Whatever good energy you sent its working. second hot guy in the last 5 minutes! mia: i lit a CANDLE for this!!!!! leah: there weren’t any handsome guys like this when i was on tinder?! 😫 UNFAIR. 🙄 you: blow it out then cause this is the 3rd actually. leah: 3rd??? Where’s number 2??? you: didn’t think to snap a screenshot. hasn’t matched me back yet. mia: has he posted a shirtless pic? you: kyle did and this one idk but probably. need to check. leah: Don’t forget to send it over.🥴

Shaking your head and laughing in amusement, you went back to Tinder, checking on ‘Johnny’. The mandatory gym pic was there… a couple of them in fact! And then the mandatory shirtless selfie. Or rather… The mandatory shirtless SELFIES. Plural.

Three of them… The first one was him just straight up wearing just a towel… And the next was him in a kilt… And the next was him with a button-up very much so unbuttoned. 

“Oh, my, Johnny-John-John… You sure know how to woo a bird…” You joked to yourself.

You dragged your finger down to check his bio and immediately frowned. “Of course…” You trailed off with a disappointed frown as you snuck another spring roll into your mouth.

He might be stupidly attractive, but his personality… Gosh, he doesn’t know how to sell himself. Boring, boring, boring. “I work out and like video games!” You quipped mockingly and scoffed a bit.

“Artist.” You remarked when you reached the last of his profile’s tags, spotting that word in the hobby section. “An artist? You?” You asked your phone screen as if Johnny would come alive in it and answer you. 

You’d admit, him calling himself an artist was intriguing enough, but normally that wouldn’t be enough to make you Swipe Right on him… But you’re not under normal circumstances. You promised your friends you’d Swipe Right on everyone so…

Your phone almost dropped out of your hand as soon as the ‘It’s a Match’ screen showed. “Of course… He’s probably swiping right on everyone as well…” Rolling your eyes, you go to click off the screen but accidentally enter DMs.

Johnny: ye have any scottish in you? you: not that i know of. Johnny: would ye like to? 🫦 Johnny: wait. wdym not that ye know of??? Johnny: i was trying to be filthy and now got me curious bonnie

“Fuckin’ hell…” You said as you set down your phone and covered your face before breaking into a fit of giggles.

The fact you had accidentally ruined his pick-up line and succeeded in stumping him got you very, very amused. Okay, maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as boring as you thought.

you: story for another time. you: i walked right into that one tho. good job. Johnny: no ye cant do that Johnny: gotta tell me all about it now you: i mean werent scottish people everywhere in the uk at one point? you: i might be 1/370232103484320th scottish. Johnny: would ye like some MORE scottish in ye then? 🫦 you: solid attempt again. you: if you keep trying you might just get there. Johnny: i intend to dont worry you: soooo… Johnny: so? you: were you wearing underwear under the kilt? Johnny: no Johnny: why want a peek? 😏 you: i’m good you: so ur an artist? Johnny: i am Johnny: ur fast at typing fuck you: what kind? you: keep up then! Johnny: drawing Johnny: im trying 🥴 you: can i see some? Johnny: hanging with my mates difficult to text fast 😤 Johnny: idk if ull be in the mood to see anything after im done with ye you: why? 🤨 Johnny: might be too tired and need to be cuddled to sleep 😏 you: oh fuck off. Johnny: u just cursed me out Johnny: i think m in love 😫 Johnny: gonna tell my mates i just met my spouse 🥴🥴 you: don’t give them any ideas. you: haven’t even agreed to meet up with you. you: haven’t been invited in the first place. Johnny: meet up with me 🙏 Johnny: meet up with me 🙏 Johnny: meet up with me 🙏 Johnny: meet up with me 🙏 Johnny: meet up with me 🙏

Your eyes widened at his enthusiasm and persistence. Okay, he was definitely not boring… It was actually kind of endearing and funny!

you: jc r u copypasting that? Johnny: yes Johnny: are ye going to or not you: can i get back to you on that? Johnny: ill wait for ye you: sure you do that johnny Johnny: ow the sarcasm burns

Concealing a chuckle, you clicked off the DMs page for the second time tonight… but, this time, you closed the app and focused on eating dinner.

Sure, this whole dating app thing was stupid, but at least you were enjoying yourself. 

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

[cakelitter]

Kiss It Better

Older! Leon x Fem! Reader

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings: daddy kink, p in v, oral (f receive), breeding kink, spanking, dirty talking, established relationship

words: 3.3k

a/n: hi hi!! no summary for this one cause... idk, a surprise? Reader is attention deprived, but I'd always be demanding more if di Leon was my bf like hello? (never shutting up about him) anw hope you enjoy!!

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your boyfriend is mad at you.

And how does he decide to punish you? In the cruelest way possible, a way that he knows you’re not strong enough to handle.

Ignoring you.

Robbing you from his attention and validation, treating you like how you’d probably get treated on a daily basis with a guy your age.  

He has never been the type to give you attitude, or even raise his voice, but that does not mean that you go unscathed when you mess up. Right now, he is living his life like he normally does, well his life before he met you apparently. No pet names, no kisses, no “I love you”, not even looking at what you’re talking about and just replying with the most unenthusiastic hum he can muster up at literally everything you say.

“Daddy, look at this cute dog.”

“Hm.”

“How was work?”

“Hm.”

“I almost got ran over by a truck on the highway.”

“Hm.”

It’s pissing you off, and that’s exactly why he’s doing it. Figured out which buttons to push to get on your nerves, and is actively pushing every single one of them. You curl up on his side, wrapping your arm around his neck and place your head on his shoulder. And in return his eyes remained glued to the TV.

You’re going to cry, rip your hair out, and throw yourself off the balcony.

Worst part is that you actually apologized, not once, not twice, but three fucking times, and yet, it all falls to deaf ears. Why is he acting like you kicked homeless puppies or set an orphanage on fire?

Daddy is supposed to be forgiving, and he always has been; pulling you into a hug after each argument, kissing your face and all over your body till you feel better. But apparently daddy is under new management now, following a new set of policies that are getting in the way of your dire need for his attention.

The first day you realized that he’s ignoring you, you’d talk to him and he won’t respond, and if he did it was short and dry answers. Treating you like a persistent fly that just won’t leave him alone, the smile on his lips that was always present when he looked at you is now hid behind his cold gaze.

You tried cuddling, cracking a few jokes, and even started a conversation that you just ended up having with yourself. All of those strategies were met with the same result, nothing. It’s like someone took the man your loved and replaced him with a brick wall, devoid from any capabilities of forming emotional connections or any sort of bond for that matter.

On day two, you tried to make it harder for him to ignore you. Wearing the skimpiest clothes around the house, putting on his shirt with nothing underneath and even went the extra mile of spraying yourself with his perfume. You practically threw yourself over his lap, nuzzling into him and peppering kisses all over his rough stubble.

Nothing.

Actually, he did say something. “You’re blocking the TV.”  

Felt like a slap to the face, you stare at him for a bit hoping that he acknowledges your existence. Again, nothing. His dick is half hard beneath you, aching for your wet heat, and instead of making you ride his dick till you’re crying, he remains still. So now not only is he ignoring you, he’s ignoring his cock as well.

Fine then, the shirt is now off, you are sleeping in your shared bed fully naked and bare like the day you popped out into this world. Figured since Leon is stubborn, maybe he just had a high ego and is too embarrassed to break whatever promise he made to himself to ignore your pathetic attempts of winning him back.

He’ll walk in the room, find you basically giving him an invitation to touch you, waiting patiently in case he changed his mind, and fall right into your trap. A fool proof plan…

The number of times you’ve gotten clowned are getting embarrassing at this point.

Not only did he not do anything, he didn’t do as much as touch you the whole night. Sleeping on his side of the bed and leaving you in the same position you fell asleep in. The arms that would wrap around you during the night are missing, same goes to the hot breath that would fan out on the nape of your neck as you drift off to sleep. Again, cruel old man behavior.

And so, today marks day three without attention. You’ve lost your appetite, lost smell in your left arm, eyelid keeps twitching, haven’t been sleeping well, and you’ve become much irritable. This is getting out of hand; this man has no mercy for your soul. He might as well just shoot you in the leg instead and you’d accept that any day over what he’s doing right now.

You’ve considered just getting on your knees, intertwining your hands together and begging him to talk to you again. Usually, you are never this desperate for a man to talk to you, except for him. Leon has showered you with love every day since the two of you got together, his best and only girl, the apple of his eye, the sole reason he keeps going. You’ve gotten so accustomed to being his baby that it has become an innate need.

In the midst of your desperate attempts, you reach plan C. If it doesn’t work you’ll just give up and actually start acting like a normal fucking person for once, but god forbid things need to reach that point.

This time you don’t say a word to him, ignoring him the way he’s ignoring you. No good morning, no pleading, nothing.

You hop in the shower and then begin to get ready to go out. Your hair is done with extra effort today, and makeup is on point. Not sure if the outfit you’re wearing could be even classified as “clothes”. Cleavage on display, and ass almost hanging out of the miniskirt you have on.

It’s probably illegal to walk out dressed like that, a hazard to public safety. You might as well wear lingerie and call it a day; but believe it or not, that’s what you’re aiming for.

You can see Leon’s eyes look up from his laptop momentarily as you walk past him to go grab something from the other room, but just as you expected he minds his own business, going back to whatever he was doing.

That’s until you see his figure walk into your shared bedroom, leaning back on the door frame, watching you add some final touches to your makeup through the reflection of your vanity. You pretend like you didn’t see him, directing all your focus onto lining your lips.

“Where you going?” Ah, there it is, the first proper sentence he’s said in the past three days.  An achievement that surely deserves a celebration.

 This is what parents must feel like when their child speaks their first word. The child being a man in his late thirties and twice your size, but you digress. With your eyes remaining glued to your lips, you speak coldly. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“There’s this new club my friend wants us to check out together.”

“Which friend?” The look plastered on his face is hilarious; his eyes moving back and forth between yours and your poor excuse of a skirt. He seems worried, more for himself than for you, watching his faux confidence crumble in front of him.

“Won’t be gone for long, don’t worry.” You reply, closing your lip gloss and putting it back in your makeup bag while rubbing your lips together.

“I didn’t ask if you were going to be late or not, I asked which friend.” This tough demeanor doesn’t suit him, he’s clearly out of his element. Fixing his posture, he crosses his arms waiting for you to respond. “Does it matter, Leon?”

You dropped the bomb, letting his name slip out your lips instead of the D-word feels weird, borderline painful, but it had to be done. He goes quiet, your eyes too scared to look back at him through the mirror which has been serving as a way of communication between the two of you.

Can’t remember the last time you addressed him with his name, took you no longer than two weeks to start babbling daddy; his name long forgotten and dust collected in the back of your mind. He liked it, a name only you get to call him by, a trigger you pull causing him to immediately slip into the protective mental space, a space only reserved for you.

“Leon?”

You’re going to shit your pants this actually not even funny.

“Um, isn’t that your name?” Grabbing your purse, you give yourself a one final look over before walking towards the door. Your legs feel wobbly, never the type to start any of these kinds of petty situations. Usually all you have to do is flutter your lashes at him and he immediately gives you whatever you want, this time however he brought this onto himself.

Walking past him, you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your scalp, his energy feeling heavy. You feign confidence, walking slow, posture straight and hips swaying from side to side. Truthfully, you are fighting the urge to just book it and run as far as these heels can take you (not that far) before he does whatever is running through his mind.

You don’t even get to make it two steps away from the door before a hand yanks you back into the room, and throws you over his shoulder.

“Leon, I’m already late, put me down!” A loud smack echoes through the room as a stinging pain overtakes your senses. You yelp out, blood rushing over to the red handprint on your ass, heat spreading on the area.

Your back hits the plush mattress of the bed and within seconds he’s on top of you. His hand grabs one of your thighs spreading them wider as the other goes for your neck. Crashing his lips against yours, a groan escapes your lips, as his hips thrust against your core, hardened dick rubbing against your panty clad cunt.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that ‘friend’ of yours would be pissed.” His breath feels hot against your lips with each word that leaves his mouth. “What did I tell you about lying, baby?”

Should’ve known that lying doesn’t work on him, never did and never will. Has you memorized by heart, starting from your actions, reactions, and every thought that crosses your mind.

Reality is, there is no friend, and there is no new club. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, and making up a whole scenario was the only option you had left. “I’m sorry.”

His hand lands on your ass once again with a loud slap, your body jolts in pain as you bite your lip to suppress a whine. “Sorry what?”

“I’m sorry daddy.”

“Atta girl.” He coos, his hand rubbing against the burning skin, rewarding you with a sweet kiss. “See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The cold air hits your nipples as he drags your top down, revealing your breasts too him. He gropes one, moving over and giving the stiff peak a firm pinch. “Why’d you lie sweetheart?”

Him and those fucking questions, can’t the interrogation wait till he fucked you? His hips continue rubbing against yours, the gusset of your panties is soaked with your arousal. “Wanted daddy’s attention.”

“Of course you did.” He chuckles lowly, eyes focused on your tits as he plays with them. A smile flashes across your lips, maybe your plan did work after all, not fully the way you intended it to; but it worked nonetheless.

His hands are on you, he’s speaking again, and his cock in near reach. Maybe life’s not so bad after all.

“I wouldn’t call this a win, sweetheart; think I might just play with these tits and leave you like this.” The smile that was once present on your glossy lips disappears, your heart drops at the possibility of him leaving you to deal with the aching between your thighs, again. It’s been three long rough days without his dick, he can’t be doing this to you.

“No, no, no please daddy, I’m sorry.” You shake your head from side to side, knots forming between your brows, hoping that your pleading is enough to convince him.

“Was actually going to apologize for being so mean to you lately, but after seeing you act like this… I don’t know, baby.”  You whine, head falling back down on the mattress below.

Frustrated, tears begin to brim in your eyes as your hands reach over and grab his muscular forearm. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I promise I won’t do it again.”

His eyes stare into yours, he stays quiet for a moment before his eyes soften. Dropping down, he places a kiss on your forehead, his thumb caressing the side of your cheek. “Pretty girl, I’m sorry too, shouldn’t have been so harsh with you.”

He presses another soft peck on your cheek, smiling at you warmly. Your heart begins to thump faster, your sadness dissipating with each passing moment. He’s back, you can’t tell of you feel good because the two of you made up, or because his hard cock is still rubbing against your wet heat.

“I need you.” you whisper, rubbing against his hand like a kitten. Chuckling, he nods and kisses you this time on the lips and it feels ten times sweeter than normal. Rubbing your sides, his hand slithers down to your clothed clit, rubbing soft circles, causing your back to arch.

“Think it’s about time to makeup it up for you, sweetheart.” You hum in agreement, capturing your bottom lip in a bite, and spreading your thighs even wider, inviting him to continue. His lips connect to the tender skin on your neck, kissing and biting down on it, your hands tangling between his soft locks and closing your eyes in pleasure.

Moving back, he admires his work momentarily before dropping down to his knees at the foot of the bed. Unzipping your skirt, he pulls the fabric down before tossing it somewhere behind him along with your soaked panties. Calloused hands snake the inside of your thighs, gentle caresses along with some gropes here and there.

His fingers spread your lips open, in awe at the view in front of him, your arousal evident and dipping down from your core like a waterfall, down to the sheets below. “Missed you too, baby. Daddy missed you so much.”

Those words are not for you, but for your cunt, addressing it like it’s his. An open-mouthed kiss gets placed on your clit, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours as he does so. The scene on its own is enough to make you cum.

Teasing you, he places a few more on your thighs; eyes not leaving yours for a minute. He rubs his cheek against the soft skin, the stubbled chin feeling prickly. Giving it the love and affection that it missed out on.

You wait patiently, letting him enjoy and take his time, basking in the heart warming feeling of it all. Like always, good behavior never goes unnoticed, and so he rewards you by pulling the hood of your clit back, and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, a satisfied groan vibrating through it amplifying the pleasure.

His skilled tongue makes out with your pussy, licking and fucking itself into you. Your moans fill the room, gripping the covers below you for dear life. Feeling your orgasm around the corner, but as soon as you notice his hips subconsciously thrusting into the footboard of the bed below, groans coming out of his busy lips, the knot in your stomach snaps immediately, causing your thighs to squeeze around his head as he holds your hips in place.

Placing your foot on his shoulder, you pull away from your core, the uncomfortable sensation of overstimulation taking over your senses. He moves back, stubble glistening in the mixture of your fluids and his spit.

He looks into your half-lidded eyes for a moment, his hand rubbing your thigh affectionately before kissing the inside of it. “So pretty, such a pretty girl.”

Your heart flutters, getting high on each love filled word he says. Grabbing his hand in yours, you pull him up towards you, connecting your lips in a kiss much more tender than he ones before. Lust and desire dissipating, replaced with the warm feeling of adoration. He pets your hair, leaving a final peck on your nose, causing you to giggle in response.

The mood however shifts again when you feel the imprint of his cock through his sweatpants; the familiar aching between your legs ignites once more, begging for him. “Daddy.”

“Right here.”

“Want you inside” He captures your bottom lip into a deeper kiss, his hands assisting yours in taking his pants off. Breaking the kiss, he fully removes them, revealing his thick cock to your desire filled eyes; the flushed pink tip, and the dollop of sticky precum begin to drip down the side of it.

He wraps his fist around it, pumping himself a few times, earning a sharp inhale out of the sensation. The head bumps against your clit, slapping against it a few times before guiding it down to your entrance. The two of you moan at the stretch, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. “So tight, sweetheart. Fucking meant for this dick.”

Your eyes flutter close, trying to compose yourself before you feel him begin to move. You can feel every inch and every vein inside your velvety walls. The aroma of sex over takes your senses as his thrusts begin to pick up speed.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, his fingers intertwine with yours as he slams into you, deep and speedy thrusts causing the bed to creak beneath your masses. “Take it, baby. Take it so daddy can fuck you full of his cum.”

Your walls pulsate around him, your hand squeezing his. “Want it.”

“Fuck, might knock you up sweetheart. Make you a mommy as an apology.” Your back arches, his voice bouncing off the walls inside your mind. You nod, biting down on your bottom lip, head empty and pussy gripping his length.

“Like that? Mark you as mine forever, pretty tight pussy all mine.” You wail, gripping onto his shoulders tightly, leaning back your head in attempts to stop yourself from being too loud. “Gonna keep you here all night, make sure that this sweet cunt takes it.”

Pleasure blinds your vision as you let go, your cum coating his dick as he begins to chase his own high. Your head lolls emptily to the side as he continues to fuck into you relentlessly, the head board hitting the wall behind it. Your tits bounce with each thrust, the image of you getting pumped full of Leon’s cum still evident in your mind.

His hips shudder as he releases inside of you, hot and sticky fluid accompanied by some curses and words of praise, earning a satisfied hum from you. Thrusting in a few more times, he admires the sight beneath him, distributing your fluids evenly.

He pulls out, flopping down next to you, as his arm wraps around your body, pulling your closer to his chest. Rough hands pet your hair, as he rests his chin on your temple, keeping your body warm next to his.

The two of you sit in silence momentarily trying to catch your breath. Your eyelids feel heavy, body completely worn out and satisfied as you start slipping away into a much-needed worry free rest, hearing your lover whisper something into your hair.

“Sorry for being mean, sweetheart. Daddy loves you.”

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

divider by: @/floriseu

[afsalovesnikolai]

hi! I am 🏛️, so i would like to request a 18!Dazai and reader, like idk of you do smut, if not then you can ignore, i dont want yall to feel uncomfortable.

Make dazai like veryyyy Horny, and reader just appears at the wrong time (poor them)

If you can do this, thank you, if you feel uncomfortable then i am truly sorry.

Guys he is the litteral def of a slut. also u can interperate their relationship.

Anywho yk the drill, too lazy so ill add banner later, enjoyyyyyy

no but srsly i got so much motivation yaeyyyy

You walk into the living room, ready to relax after a long day. However, the scene before you makes your jaw drop. There's Dazai, sprawled out on the couch, completely naked a white button up which leaves little to the imagination. His lean physique is mostly on full display as he touches himself shamelessly, one hand stroking his impressive length while the other goes under his shirt and he tweaks a nipple.

"Fuck, name." he groans, eyes closed in ecstasy. "I've been thinking about you all day. 'Wanted to feel your tight little body wrapped around my cock." He moans out with eyes squeezed shut. Dazai is too lost in his lustful fantasies to notice your presence yet. His hips buck upwards as he works himself over, panting heavily.

"Gonna fill you up so good," he mumbles deliriously. "Paint your insides white with my cum. You'd like that, wouldn't you? To be marked as mine..." he then lets out a whine as he groans. hes an actual slut!

You stand there completely shocked and suprised as you watch with parted dry lips, trying to stutter out anything but just go red at the sight of him. Hes thinking of you so shamelessly too. Hes out in the open and….gah.

Dazai's eyes flutter open for a second and land on you standing there, mouth agape. For a moment, he seems startled, but then a wolfish grin spreads across his face. "Well hello there, Name. Fancy seeing you here," he flirts, making no move to cover himself, in fact he continues stroking himself as he eyes you.

If anything, his arousal only seems to grow at being caught in such a compromising position. His cock throbs and twitches in his hand, pre-cum beading at the tip. "Like what you see?" Dazai taunts, slowing his strokes to an agonizing pace. "Why don't you come closer and get a better look?" he hums as you glance at his red angry tip.

He spreads his legs wider in invitation, the bulge in his underwear straining obscenely. One hand reaches down to cup himself through the fabric, massaging his heavy balls. "I bet you're curious what it would feel like to wrap your lips around my dick. To taste me on your tongue as I fuck your pretty little-”

“ 'Samu!” you exclaim all red at his words. Then the realization hits, Dazai is a man of his words. He gets what he wants no matter what he has to go through. You sigh as you glance at him, hes giving you a look which you know it’ll be difficult to decline. What a slut.

Dazai's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts into you with force, his cock stretching you deliciously. Each powerful stroke sends shock waves of pleasure rippling through your body, and you can't help but moan and yelp in ecstasy. The room is filled with the sounds of your combined passion. The slap of skin on skin, the creaking of the couch, and your constant cries of pleasure.

"That's it, Name," Dazai growls, his voice thick with lust. "Take my cock like the good little slut you are. Fuck, you feel incredible." Ironic how you called him a slut not too long before you started sucking him off.

He leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as his hips continue their abuse on your poor cunt.. His tongue explores your mouth, tangling with yours in a dance of raw desire. He taste’s himself on your lips and tongue, the flavor driving him crazy. (Slut.)

As Dazai ruts into you, you feel another orgasm building deep within your core. Your body tenses, muscles coiling like a spring about to snap. "Oh god, oh god, I'm gonna cum again!" you cry out as you spasm and hold onto him digging your nails on his pale skin leaving red delicious marks.

After you both are so spent, you try to communicate your exhaustion to Dazai, but he's too far gone in his lust to register your signals. His hips continue their relentless pace, plunging into you over and over again. As he does, you notice his eyes squeezing shut, his face contorted in a mix of pain and pleasure. You both are so overstimulated.

" ‘Samu," you gasp out between labored breaths. "I think we should take a break. I'm... I'm too sensitive." You pant out so so tired.

But your words fall on deaf ears as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. "Can't stop," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your flesh. "Need you so fucking bad. Gonna make you mine forever." Shit your going to die in lust with him.

[arlowthenacho]

that funny feeling

(carmen berzatto x reader)

summary: you thought carmen berzatto was just a hookup. a fuck-buddy. key word, you thought.

warnings: cursing, allusions to sex but not really? its only mentioned a couple times. no smut, intended lowercase, if theres anything i missed plz let me know !!

wc: 1.1k

a/n: arlow thought about carmen spoon feeding them and made it angsty lol. this is rlly short but fret not !! i think this is gonna be a 2 parter, possibly 3 parter? idk, but i think its gonna be a series lol. anyway, enjoy my lovelies !! 🫶🤍

it started as a one time thing. a one-night-stand. a meaningless hookup. something that would and could only happen once.

until it happened again. and again, and again.

because carmen berzatto was a drug, and you were addicted to him. you craved him like lungs crave oxygen, but you weren’t sure that the feeling was reciprocated.

because if carmen berzatto was a book, he’d be written in code. scrawled in a language you didn’t understand, in writing to confusing to decipher. because carmen berzatto was nothing if not confusing.

a sudden vibration on your nightstand pulls you from your thoughts as you swipe open the screen. a text from carmen. shit.

carmy 🧑‍🍳

you up?

fuck. shit, shit, shit.

you quickly sit up and type back a response.

yeah.

you hold down the backspace button. too simple.

i wasn’t until you woke me up

pop. too accusatory.

i am now. whats up?

good enough.

you click send and set your phone back down on your bed, waiting for a response.

bzz.

the reply was almost instant. maybe that scared you a little bit.

your finger hovers over the screen, debating whether to open the text now, or just forget about it until the morning.

the former won.

carmy 🧑‍🍳

can you come over?

oh. oh.

you don’t know why you expected anything different. it’s not like you were dating him. even though you wish you were. in his eyes, you were just a casual hookup who he occasionally called for something not relating to sex.

you heave a sigh and shift your eyes back over to the phone in your hands.

yeah, ok.

sent.

you don’t really care if it sounds passive aggressive, or angry, or disappointed or whatever else it could sound like to him. to be quite honest, you just want to get this over with.

you quickly change out of your pajamas into something more presentable. a white sweater, blue jeans, throw in some lacy undergarments and you’re heading out the door and into your car.

you turn on the ignition and start the short drive to carmy’s apartment. you have his address memorized, (which you will deny is creepy until your dying day) so you don’t need to use a gps.

you turn on some music and try to distract your racing thoughts. its not like this is the first time you’re meeting him. no, far from it. but you don’t think your brain has processed that yet, because your heart is pounding and fluttering like a bird caged within your chest.

you finally make it to his apartment after what feels like an hour, and you’re standing—quite awkwardly—at carmen’s door, your fist hovering over the wood hesitantly.

after a full minute of standing at the door with your arm raised, you decide to bite the bullet and knock on the damn door.

so you do.

and he answers instantly. like a fucking gentleman.

his hair is tousled, and he runs a hand through it nervously. his eyes somehow look even more blue in the shitty light the hallway of his building provides, and it’s driving you crazy.

he is gorgeous. he is perfect. he’s all the synonyms for beautiful you can cram into one human being.

“hi,”

carmen’s voice is deep and gravelly, still thick with sleep even though he’s probably been awake for some time now.

“hey,”

a beat passes.

“can i-?”

he jolts up from the doorway he was leaning on.

“oh, yeah. shit—yeah, come in. sorry.”

an apron is tied around his waist, a gray sweater fitting loosely around his frame. it makes his eyes appear bright, like gleaming pools of sapphire that you want to spend every pretty penny on.

nonetheless, you smile politely and step into his apartment.

no matter how many times you’ve been here, the first thing you notice is always his bookshelves. more so, the books. cookbooks, magazines, culinary textbooks and newspaper articles litter his floor and decorate his walls.

the second thing you always notice is his ever-growing collection of denim. jeans and jackets make up most of his wardrobe, and are crammed into whatever space he could find.

after looking around his small apartment, a smell hits your nose.

its…pasta?

no, that can’t be it. you were just here to fuck, right? the food was probably for someone else. for work, or somebody he wanted a real relationship with. not you.

the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth.

you sigh, disappointment crashing into your heart like waves against rocks for the second time tonight.

despite that, you’re the first to break the silence.

“aren’t we going to your room?” you cringe at the tone of your voice. it sounded exactly how you felt. disappointed, hurt, maybe a little bitter.

“what? sorry, couldn’t hear you.” carmen leans down to you to hear better, his breath a faint whisper against your skin. your breath hitches.

“aren’t we going to your room?” you repeat, a tad louder than before.

“oh. no, no, no. no, that not—that isn’t—” carmen seems to be at a loss for words, and he feels like a total dick.

“we aren’t?” you’re confused, but hide it well. you raise a brow pointedly. “then why’d you ask me to come over?” for the first time in a couple of minutes, you notice where you followed him.

“i—just,” he searches around for something.

a spoon, full of some kind of red sauce. he cups his hand under the utensil to catch anything that drips, and urges you to come closer.

you’re in his kitchen. his safe space. his fucking sacred space.

and suddenly a wave of confusion and frustration and hope is erupting within you. so many emotions and so much fucking hope. hope that this could be something more. hope that maybe you were wrong. silly, foolish, childish hope that enthralls you completely in its deceitfully warm embrace.

he’s still holding the spoon to your mouth when he speaks.

“can you try it? it’s something for the bear. for the new menu. wanted your opinion on it.” he looks nervous, like he wasn’t the one who invited you over. like he isn’t currently the one lighting your cheeks ablaze and causing your to heart implode under the sheer force of your adoration for him.

“oh, um, yeah. of course.”

he smiles. a close-lipped thing that makes you want to kiss it off of him.

you move to take the spoon from him, but he gently shoves your arm down against your side, says “open up,” and puts the spoon in your mouth.

the food is great. more than great. but you’d be lying if you said you were paying attention to that.

because carmen fucking berzatto just spoon fed you. like a couple.

and now the domesticity is crushing you, mind, body and soul.

because you’re in love with carmen berzatto.

and by some miracle, he might be in love with you too.

[starkeygirlposts]

Goosebumps in my Sleeve V

This chapter has been a labor of love. I feel so lacking in creativity, but yet writing is all I can think about! Once I sit down to write, my mind goes blank. Anyway, this chapter is a little all over the place but I wanted to delve into some other topics/scenes from the timeline. I hope you enjoy this one! Please beware that this is NOT proof read and most likely contains several errors. I will eventually get around to proof reading it. Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader Trigger warnings: angst, stepcest, drugs, swearing, pregnancy, smut(a whole drawer of warnings), discussion of suicide, swearing, domestic violence, mama and daddy kink, breeding kink, mention of abortion, talk of death and killing, idk what else lol 18+ mdni

SERIES MASTERLIST

THEN

To say that Rafe got possessive once you found out you were pregnant would be an understatement. Nothing you did was okay with him if he didn’t know about it first. No schedule change or unpredictable plans were allowed to be made without an argument ensuing and a slew of angry texts and missed calls.

You’d try telling him that you needed to keep everything normal and the same as it was before so to not draw any unnecessary attention to the two of you and your situation. But he’d tell you he "didn’t give a fuck”, and “that’s my kid you’ve got in there so you tell me this kind of shit.”

More times than not you’d wonder if you’d only become an incubator for his precious cargo. Whether or not he cared solely about the baby under your heart or also about its mother. So when you go grab tacos with two of your closest friends, you finally lose it when Rafe blows up your phone wondering where you are and why you didn’t tell him you wouldn’t be home. You’d left the house at 6:30, not knowing where Rafe was or when he would be home. Maybe it’s the sinking feeling in his gut when he silently opens your door to find your bedroom empty, his mind racing to the worse case scenario, or maybe it’s the demon buried deep inside of him needing to control your every move.

Your sat at the table at your favorite Mexican restaurant not even five minutes from tanneyhill, chip half dipped into the bowl of guacamole when your phone chimes. The conversation between the three of you halts, and you wave your hand, telling them to continue as you flip your phone over, already knowing who the alert was from. You try to keep a straight face as you read the message.

7:02PM Rafe: Where are you?

You look it over, re reading it three times before debating sending a simple reply, instead deciding to push the power button and set it back down on the table, flipping the silent switch before you do so.

You don’t exactly know why you don’t want to answer, as if the reply takes too much energy. But the two things that come to your mind first is that you not only feel suffocated, but you want to forget for just a moment.

Then at 7:08 he calls you. You obviously don’t answer.

7:08PM Rafe: This again?

2 more missed calls.

7:12PM Rafe: Am I really that shitty of a boyfriend that you don't even want to answer me?

7:15PM Rafe: You’re testing me aren’t you? Why?

7:19PM Rafe: You know I can see where you are right? You’re sharing your location with me.

You stopped sharing your location with Rafe.

7:21PM Rafe: Are you fucking kidding me? I swear to god I will show up there in 5 minutes and drag your ass out of there. Turn your location back on. I’m putting my shoes on right now.

You started sharing your location with Rafe.

7:22PM Rafe: So you can read all my messages and turn your location off and on but you can’t reply?

7:23PM You: I’m with my friends. Girl friends. I’ll text you when I’m leaving.

7:24PM Rafe: Yeah but that doesn’t work for me. I want you here now so wrap it up. If you need me to get you let me know.

You can’t help but scoff, raising your eyebrows which elicits a question from one of your friends asking you who’s texting you. You put your phone in your purse and try to forget about Rafe’s overbearing for an hour with your friends. Casually, you tell her it’s your mom going off about you not telling her you wouldn’t be home for dinner like you’re 14 years old. But when not even fifteen minutes go by and your friends are sat across from you looking over your head at what’s behind you, you ball your fists and finish the last sip of your drink before relaxing in your seat. You almost wish you would’ve just told them the truth. You can see the confusion on their faces as they blink from above you to eye level with you.

You can feel him next to you, but you pretend you don’t. Your friends mutter a confused “Hey Rafe…” before he’s bending down to your level to look at you. Reluctantly, you turn your head to look back at him and his brows shoot up. He silently places a $100 bill on the table and calmly tells you “Let’s go, we’re leaving."

You make the mistake of rolling your eyes, looking back to your friends.

“My friends said hello, Rafe. Why don’t you say hi?” You briefly look to both of your friends, hoping your gaze offers a silent apology.

He straightens back up, pulling your chair out for you. You finally look up at him, his eyes still locked on you as you now meet them with yours. “We haven’t even ordered dinner. I’ll be home in an hour.” You try to tell him, but he’s got your bag in his hand and his hand wraps around your upper arm, pulling you to your feet. His lips are next to your ear, hot breath casting a wind across your neck.

“Do not make a scene here. We’re leaving. Say goodbye.” He tells you, and you look back at him once more before looking down at your friends and telling them that your mom made your favorite and you’d rather avoid a blowout. The girls nod skeptically, looking at you and then at each other and then back to you.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll text you.” You tell them simply, before Rafe is tugging you to walk in front of him. His hand finds your lower back to guide you out of the restaurant and your phone vibrates in your hand. You glance down at it to see the name of you and your friends group chat pop up in your notifications. It reads a simple question.

“Are you okay?”

You take a deep breath, as deep as you can as you walk to Rafe’s truck before you type out a quick reply.

“Totally fine, so sorry. My mom’s been a maniac she Rafe’s just trying to avoid another explosion. I’m actually grateful lol"

Both girls love the message, and you quickly slip it into the pocket of your jeans as his arm leaves your back to open the door of the truck for you. You look back at him and he raises his brows, thrusting his hand forward for you to get in. You huff and relent, grabbing the inside handle and climb in.

You scoff and shake your head, pissed and upset as he climbs into the drivers side. He starts the engine and pulls into the street, not saying a word to you so you take the silence as an opportunity.

You don’t think before you speak, and you regret it instantly.

“Maybe I should’ve had an abortion."

The words fly out faster than you mean for them to, your tone dripping venom as you look ahead at the lit up road, totally vacant. He doesn’t respond, and you look next to you to him, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. His brows are furrowed and his lip is curled in disgust. You know he heard you when he cocks his head and swerves the truck violently into the shoulder.

“What the fuck did you just say?” His tone drips with hatred, his head cocked but keeps his gaze straight ahead. You’re watching him, turning your body fully in your seat. You wonder for a brief moment if you should grovel, mumble out a quick “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” But for the briefest moment you wonder if you actually did…

“No…no, no. Say that again. Say it, I dare you.” He says darkly, finally turning his head to look at you. Your eyes connect and he’s staring at you so deeply you wonder if he can see the turning of your insides.

You’re silent, and his eyes squint like he’s trying to see better.

“Come on baby say it. Say it again. I want to hear you say that shit to me again.” You flinch when his hand jets out to grip the back of your neck harshly, and you cry out in surprise, muttering a “Rafe, stop.” before he’s dragging you closer to him, your belly jutting into the console. His nose presses against yours and he shakes your head as if to wake you up.

“Did you actually fucking say that? About my baby? Wish you would’ve done it, huh? You hate me that much?” He’s seething, seeing nothing but red, glitter sparkling his vision as he tries to focus on you. You try your best to pull your head back, but it’s no use as his grip is strong on your neck keeping you pressed to him. The bow breaks and you can’t help but shout;

“I don’t know, do you hate me that much?! It’s so fucking hard to tell!” Before you continue, his head cocks, his cheek meeting you nose as he takes a deep breath and laughs humorlessly.

“What the fuck? What are you talking about? Are you okay? I mean shit I know hor-"

You cut him off, pushing him back with your hands on his chest to be able to look at him.

“No Rafe! I’m not fucking okay! Thank you for finally asking! Why did you have to ruin tonight for me? Why wasn’t I allowed to get dinner with my friends? Five fucking minutes away from our house? Did you see any guys there? Any drugs on the table? Any alcohol? I didn’t even get to eat dinner! But because I’m having your baby it doesn’t matter right?"

He scoffs and furrows his brows in confusion, trying to get a word in but you slap him instead. His cheek burns, his lips parted in shock as he looks at you and rubs the mark. He shuts his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at you with intent. Your chest heaves and your hand goes to cover his on his cheek and you can’t help but mumble a “sorry…I -"

He cuts you off, hand leaving his face to grip yours.

“I am fucking terrified, okay? Aren’t you? You’re not — you don't get it! Baby you don’t fucking get it. Listen to me…no, listen to me!” You try to wrangle your head out of his grip, but both hands reach over to grab both of your cheeks between his hands, forcing you to look at him. His pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and his nostrils flared.

“Look at me, you remember that night don’t you? I know you do. Look at me and tell me. Do you mean it? You wish you aborted the baby?” He asks you this rhetorically, but maybe you really do wish you’d just done what Ward told you to. You take a deep breath and fight the tears that threaten to spill over, and they do when you clench your lids closed in regret. Your hand subconsciously drifts to your middle and you shake your head in Rafe’s hands.

“Say it, I need to hear you say it.” His voice is soft now, coaxing you to open your eyes and when you do, he’s ducked his head to look as close at you as he can and you quietly say “No.” He silently nods his head once, and you can’t help the tears that fall down your cheeks and over his fingers.

You’re still shaking your head and you tell him again. “No, no I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean it. I want her.” You tell him honestly and you see him smile for the first time in so long and he leans down to kiss you, pecking your lips deeply. Your body is rigid against his, sobs shaking your form as you say again “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, I know you didn’t baby, it’s okay, I know.” He tells you like he’s comforting a child. “I need you to hear me right now, okay?” He asks, serious, pulling away from you to bring your head up to meet his gaze.

“I paid people so you’d get to keep the baby. My father will pay people so that we can’t. Whether that’s right back where we were, or ripping her from your arms. Tell me you understand that. You are not safe. We are not safe.” He says, shaking his head.

You look at him, silent for a moment, and your mind betrays you. You allow yourself to imagine the moment your baby comes out of you and instead of Rafe there, it’s Ward. And instead of your slimy baby being placed on your bare chest, they’re whisked away from you without any words exchanged.

Your hands absentmindedly find Rafe’s forearms that are still holding your face in his hands and you mutter a small “I understand."

“Yeah?” He asks you, and you nod and tell him again that you understand.

“Don’t bring me back there tonight, I - I can’t go back there right now.” You softly say, your mind mushy and your emotions ruined.

You see him nodding, and he calls Topper, asking him if you can use his pool house.

Next thing you know you’re pulling into Top’s driveway, his parents away on vacation and it’s probably the only reason Rafe came here rather than paying for a hotel room.

When you get inside, and the blinds are drawn, you settle on the edge of the made bed having kicked off your shoes and unhooked your bra. You’re watching him pace around to make sure the windows are locked and covered well enough, and when you assume he’s satisfied with the barricade, he finally looks at you. You and all your messy glory. But you’ve shed your pullover and now you’re just in a thin tank top, your bra removed and he looks down to your bump. It’s more prominent, unable to be hidden in regular clothes, and he laughs when he sees the makeshift hair tie closure on your jeans.

You can’t remember the last time you heard him actually laugh. Not laugh without humor, not scoff, but actually laugh with genuine joy. You can’t help but smile with him as he closes the space between you, brushing your hair back from your face and tipping it back so you can meet his eyes.

“Getting bigger, huh?” He asks, still smiling and you nod, hand resting on the biggest part of your belly. At 14 weeks, you were unable to wear most of your clothes, save for 2 pairs of jeans that still closed with a makeshift tie, and some oversized tops and sweaters. You were afraid that you were approaching the point where wearing sweaters in the heat of summer would raise suspicions. You mumble a quiet “mhm”. Your other hand drifts down to said makeshift tie to undo it, freeing your lower belly from the restriction. You shift so you can wiggle them down and over your hips, Rafe watching your movements. You move to stand in front of him and tug the denim all the way down to your knees, allowing them to slide the rest of the way off and kick them off with your feet. His hands drift down your neck, over your arms, to your hands and he grips them, bringing each up to his mouth to kiss each palm while watching you.

You’re watching him back, eyes glued to his as he presses slow, open mouthes kisses up your arm until he drops them and palms your lower back with one hand while the other cups your neck to tilt your head up so that he can crane his neck and press his lips to yours. It feels like too long since you’ve been kissed like this by him, your shoulders slumping in relief as his tongue slips past your lips to flick against yours.

You’re putty in his hands, kissing him back as eagerly as you can while your hormones rage and your emotions are tangled. Your hands rub up his back and around to his biceps, falling down to his elbows where your hands cup, trying to pull him closer to you.

As he takes a breath, you pull your head back to speak.

“You’re gonna love her more than me, aren’t you?” You ask shyly, unable to look at him when you ask, your hands falling away from his body to find the edge of the mattress, lowering your body down to sit.

You don’t see the furrow in his brow as he looks at you confused, his fingers reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear as he cradles your chin in his palm. He moves to his knees before you, and you allow yourself to look at him as he does, looking at you with worry.

“Why would you say that? Gonna love ‘em just as much as I love you.” He tells you, trying to say the right thing. Truth be told, he did love the baby inside of you more deeply than he understood. But wasn’t that normal? Wasn’t he supposed to? Did he love the baby more than he loved you? How was that even possible?

“There wouldn’t be any baby in there if I didn’t love you as much as I do.” He tells you softly, and you nod in acceptance.

“Not just a way for you to continue your legacy?” You ask quietly and now he’s truly confused. He tells you to look at him, and you do.

“I’m gonna tell you this because I don’t want to hear any stupid shit like this again. M’kay?” He asks you, and you nod.

“If we didn’t make her, I don’t think I’d still be here right now.” Now its your brow furrowing, and your hands move to grip his, cautiously asking him what he means. He takes a deep breath and flutters his eyes closed like he’s ashamed.

“You know what I mean, baby. Don’t make me say it. Can’t live without you...you know that.” He tells you honestly and the tear that falls from his eye as he looks at you through saggy lids tell you everything you need to know.

You gasp without meaning to, and you can’t help the guilt brewing in your gut. The idea of a world without Rafe in it makes you want to throw up, your hands gripping his like a vice, and you beg him to never say that again.

“I can’t…I couldn’t do this without you.” You tell him, tears threatening to fall and he pulls you to him to cradle your head under his.

“You don’t have to. I’m here.” He says simply, pulling back just enough to lower his head and kiss you again, his lips soft and hesitant against yours like he’s asking permission, and you lean back on the bed in approval, relenting and his hands snake up to your bottom, fingers squeezing to drag you further up the bed, settling on his knees in between yours.

Your lips find a pace against his, allowing him to find clarity in your movements. Your hips mindlessly buck up against his and he breaks away from your lips to run a hand down the valley of your breasts down below your belly to the hem of your tank, pulling it up and over your head to leave you bare except for your panties that remain the only barrier he can’t see past.

Your chest is heaving, watching him hover above you, and your hands find their way to the hem of his own shirt, tugging on it trying to lift it but needing his help and he chuckles, pulling the shirt off from behind his head, throwing it to the growing pile of your clothing on the floor.

He watches your face as he drags his fingers past the top of your panties to use the tip of his pointer finger to brush down the middle of your panties, the pressure against your clit making you arch up off the bed to gain friction. You moan his name and look down at him. He’s leaning back on his calves, shirtless and watching you squirm in need of more.

“What is it baby?” He teases, cocking his head while he watches you in fascination, his fingers ghosting over your clothed slit, and you nearly cry in frustration. “Please don’t tease me, Rafe.” You groan, using your feet to try to tug him closer to you. But he tuts and tells you to “Relax”.

“Mama’s needy huh?” He croons, watching your expressions with lust, finally using his fingers to tug the crotch of your panties to the side so he can rub your cunt properly.

You throw your head back with a “yes!” falling from your lips. He uses his pointer finger to push inside of your gummy walls, his thumb coming to rub firm circles on your clit, the pressure tightening the knot inside of your gut. He adds his middle finger inside of you, curling his fingers upward to push at the spongey spot inside of you, knowing your body so well.

His other hand comes up to rest on the swell of your belly, your hand instinctively covering his and lacing your fingers through his. His fingers thrust in and out of you at a rapid speed, your hips bucking up off the bed when you’re about to snap. “Gonna make me cum Rafe!” You squeal, pushing out to feel yourself gush around his fingers, pushing up on your elbows to watch him. He’s watching his fingers fuck in and out of you, the wet squelch of you taking him in over and over. You collapse back against the soft mattress again after your chest stops heaving.

Rafe’s fingers leave your core and you can’t help the frustrated grunt that leaves your lips without intent. He climbs off the bed to unbuckle his jeans and push them down his hips to the floor, his boxers going with them. You lean up on your elbows again, watching him with hooded lids, heavy with bliss as he climbs back between your legs, using his palms to trail up your calves and behind your knees to press them into your chest, leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead.

“Such a pretty mama, doing so good for me baby. You ready for my cock?” He asks sweetly, trailing kisses down your cheek to your jaw and finally locks his lips with yours and pulls back to look at you. You nod at him meekly, looking up into his eyes and he tell you to “Use your words, pretty girl."

“Yes, yes please, need your cock. Please fuck me Rafe.” You ask with confidence, chasing his lips with your own, craving the contact. His hands tighten on the backs of your knees, almost folding you too tight. He’s careful not to rest himself on your belly, though. He locks his lips on yours as he lines himself up with your cunt, but collects your wetness on his mushroom tip as he lets go of one knee to guide himself up and down your slit before guiding himself inside you in one smooth thrust. He stills when he’s buried all the way inside and your mouth falls open in a sharp cry.

“Oh, fuck…so fucking deep. Oh my godddd”. You whine, craning your neck up to press your forehead to his, his bangs hanging in your eyes. He pulls back to rest on the backs of his calves, using both hands to once again press your knees beside you in a mating press and tells you to look down at yourself.

“Look how good your pretty pussy swallows me baby. She takes me so well. Shiitttt” You whine in defeat, trying to drift your eyes downward, but at this angle flat on your back, you realize your belly is too large to see past. You huff in defeat and tell him “can’t see, rafe…tummy's too big.”

Something snaps inside of him and he hastily brings a hand behind your neck to grab a fistful of hair from the back of your neck to crane your neck up at an uncomfy angle, and you try thrusting your head back, but he stuffs a pillow behind you instead, tugging your head up farther. “Look down baby. Look at yourself dirty girl. Watch daddy fuck you.” You whine a moan at the name he gives himself and you look down again with the pillow behind you, watching as his cock drags slowly out of you, shiny with your slick before disappearing again. It’s painfully slow and you groan out.

“Fuck, Rafe…so deep, hurts so goooood.” You whine out, hands finding his forearms to steady yourself. The pressure he’s building inside of you is becoming too much and you can’t help but clench around him. He feels it and chuckles, leaning down to breathe against your lips. “Noooooo baby, don’t do that. You can take it, you’re doing so good baby girl don’t push me out.” He’s speaking to you in a higher pitch like he’s coaching you through it, continuing "Just…fucking…take it” punctuating with each thrust his long cock makes inside you, bruising your cervix over and over. You whimper at his words, your nails digging half moons into his skin and you can’t help the mewls and whines that pour out of your mouth.

He starts to fuck into you at a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours with lewd wet sounds, white cream forming around the base of his shaft as his sock leaks seed into you. “Fuck baby, m’gonna cum…need you to cum too. Can you cum for me?” He asks, lightly tapping your cheek with his hand, too fucked out to hold his stare. You look back down to where he’s disappearing inside your body, his thumb now rubbing your pearl and you clench around him before letting go, pushing out again and gushing around him. He groans and paints the inside of you with his seed, mouth agape with curses and moans pouring out like music to your ears. Hearing Rafe cum was one of your favorite moments together. Getting to hear how blissed out he was to be with you. How you were the one who made him fall over the edge.

He’s breathing heavily, hot breath fanning over your face as he all but collapses on top of you, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck and up to your ear lobe where he nibbles and whispers; “I love you so god damn much baby. Don’t ever wanna hear you question it again, kay?” His voice is lazy and groggy, but you nod eagerly and crane your neck so he’ll look at you.

You’re searching his eyes, finally telling him that “I love you…and I love her too.”

----

NOW

Rafe’s hand on your belly moves to leave your skin but the hand resting atop his keeps it where it is. You break your stare with Sarah to look over to him, his eyes trained on the road but you see the clench in his jaw and cringe on his face, his nose scrunched in revolt at having to listen to you describe that night to his sister.

Your other hand snakes around the back of his neck to cradle the cheek that faces the truck window and you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder to press a gentle kiss his neck. You know how hard it is for him to relive one of the worst nights of his life, knowing that somewhere inside of him almost believes that it was real.

“I’m sorry.” You mouth against his neck and bring your cheek back down to rest on his shoulder.

Your eyes flutter closed before quietly saying “I think I’ve shared enough.” Before opening your eyes again and locking them with Sarah’s, her head nodding briefly and you can see the tears brimming her bottom lids.

It’s a sick thing to talk about, you know you’ve overshared, but it’s reality for you, Rafe and the little girl underneath your hands. It was the only way to really allow her to understand any of this. It’s hard to still give a shit about other people, but you think salvaging an aunt for your daughter isn’t beyond reach. So you’re trying. Whether that’s okay with Rafe or not.

His voice jolts you suddenly. annoyed and tired. “How much longer am I driving here, Sarah?” He asks while keeping his gaze ahead. She nervously fumbles her phone, stuttering with nerves, you watch her hands tremble as she turns her phone upside down and tap it back open. “U-Uhhh, it’s just straight ahead for another mile and then you’re turning left.”

He doesn’t acknowledge her answer, instead following John B’s tail closer, clearly antsy. He huffs out a breath, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Y/N and I are going to the Bahamas after your friends load the cross into that piece of shit. I need you to keep dad occupied until tomorrow.” He’s curt and to the point, looking over at her briefly, Sarah nodding once and saying “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.”

You wonder if you’ve traumatized her, dragged her into your fucked up reality. How could you not have? It was not an easy pill to swallow knowing her father truly was a monster. You think that up until now she thought that family was above all else to him and that he’d prioritize herself and her siblings above all else. You’re a little bit sorry you had to be the one to crush that idealization.

Sarah’s telling him to turn left and as he does, suddenly questioning “Hey Sarah?” almost innocently. You look up at him in wonder. You couldn’t have guessed what came from him next.

Sarah hums as he asks almost petulantly; “You think dad would ever make you kill your kid?” He turns his head to look at her and she looks back at him sharply, sucking a breath between her teeth, taken aback. Your own head flies to look at him and you can’t help but rush his name out of your lips in a scold, and you tense, stomach clenching in unease, shocked tears forming in her eyes and she finally shakes her head. It’s a trap question - that you’re smart enough to know and you know she is too. He doesn’t expect an answer. Because he knows that she knows the answer and that he knows it all the same.

No. Ward would never. And that’s why he wrapped his hands around her neck that night and shoved her underwater. Ward seemingly took away his little girl, so he’d take his away, too.

You wince and it hits you hard that your daughter will not be having a relationship with her aunt. Not if her dad can help it. The hatred he feels for his own sister stems so deep inside of him that allowing the idea of his child to grow to love someone he so deeply hates makes him sick. He will not allow his own flesh and blood the chance to be rejected by her like he had been his entire life.

It was his way of telling you without telling you that no - Sarah would not remain in your life and more importantly, your daughters.

For the first time, you have no rebuttal. Because you finally understand how deep the betrayal and loyalties lie, and there was no way to explain it away or reason differently. And for the first time, you're okay with the outcome.

Please leave a comment, and reblog! I’d love to hear from you guys what you’d like to see in this story via ask box/requests. I will answer any and all submissions! NOTE that I will NOT add you to the tag list if you are only commenting to add to the list.

See y’all soon!

[k-zuzu]

스트레이기즈

s.CB, h.HJ, h.JS, l.YB 𖹭 gn!reader

my enemy.

synopsis: they eventually give in after years of hatred, rivalry, and built-up tension only to get caught by another member.

content: changbin, hyunjin, han, felix (seperate) 𖹭 reader, enemies, suggestive/nsfw/18+ (minors do not interact), idk what this is honestly, poor attempt at comedy, reader has gender neutral pronouns and no specified genitalia, gentle brat tamer!cb x brat!reader, mean dom!hj, switch!felix x switch!reader, subby!han x mean-ish dom!reader, bondage, unprotected sex (cb), big dick | blowjob | dubcon penetration | photography (hj), implied feelings | doggy style | penetration (felix), lots of teasing and some pet names in all of them, swearing, not proofread, lowercase intended.

zuzu's note: part 2!!! hope u enjoy. part 1 here.

main masterlist.

binnie.

"you need to learn your place," changbin spoke softly, his tone dripping with condescension. he had chased you around his room for quite some time before he finally caught you, and with a swift and experienced motion, he grabbed your wrists and skillfully bound them together behind your back with a length of silk rope. his grip was firm, yet gentle, as he tied the bindings tight against your skin.

what could you have possibly done to make the kind and lovable seo changbin hate you? you were a brat, a nuisance who pushed his buttons and tested his patience. he tried to be patient with you for months, but your bratty behavior was too much to handle. and worst of all, you sent him mixed signals. half of 'i am a brat because i have a crush on you' and the other half being 'i am a brat because i hate you.' years passed and changbin had finally had enough, he decided it was time to do something about it.

with a swift and powerful motion, changbin easily picked you up off the floor, walked to his room, and tossed your form onto his bed, not missing a beat as he quickly locked the door behind him. he looked down at you with a stern expression, his tone firm as he spoke.

"you can't just go around doing what you do." he scolded softly.

you looked up at him, feigning innocence. "doing what i do?" you repeated his words, genuienly confused. "y'know, changbin, if you want me to come up with a great comeback you're gonna hafta give me some details—" your words were cut short when changbin stuffed a piece of fabric in your mouth.

changbin looked at you directly, his gaze intense and focused. "let me do the talking," he said firmly. "i need to know if you want to fuck me or not." he held your gaze as he waited for your response. "so, just nod if you do." he continued, his voice steady. "and shake your head no if you don't." he wasn't afraid of the consequences of his actions. it was you sending mixed signals, and he wanted to clear the tension by being direct.

he watched. struggling to keep the smile off of his face as he watched you nod your head, eyes staring directly into his. finally. for once, you were easy to talk to.

"okay... may i take you... here, now?" changbin sat on the bed next to you and removed the fabric from your mouth.

"...yes... you may." you said, breathy.

"but i wanna be able to use these ties, is that okay?" he asked. "to be able to do that, you'll have to get naked."

"yes, fine, please, whatever! just- just take me." you shook around, trying to free yourself from the restrains so you could undress yourself.

"don't get too excited." changbin reached for the hem of your baggy shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing your exposed chest — he wanted to roam his hands all over your body so badly but he had to be patient. he pushed you against the bed so you laid down on your arms. he steadily, cautiously, painfully slowly pulled your shorts and underwear down. finally taking the remainders of the silk rope on your wrists and he tied them expertly around your thighs, keeping them spread.

you watched all but in silence, giving bratty, annoying commentary about how he was taking his sweet time, but he was patient once more because he knew he would be able to fuck you in silence. but you're not very quiet in bed to no one's surprise.

finally, when he was done, he stood up and observed his masterpiece, you, spread all perfect for him — you looked at him in silence, expression defeated by how he took his sweet time and you were still horny. finally, changbin climbed onto the bed, hed in between your legs and he collected his saliva before spitting onto your hole. fitting his middle finger inside, you squeezed tightly around him and let out a soft mewl.

"ah, come on, do you have to be such a tease~?" you whined out. you couldn't move much so your only weapon was your words

"yes, yes i do." changbin curled his finger in your hole right where you wanted it and your entire body jolted at the sensation.

"f-fuck, just take me now. don't wait. i can't take it anymore!" you shuffled around his bed, almost crying.

"beg for it." changbin watched your desperate form freeze at his words.

"what? this isn't a porno, quit making me do shit and just fuck me already—"

"beg. for. it." he stood up and pulled out something from his drawer. "i got a vibrator here and i could edge you all night if you're not up for begging,"

"f-fuck. fuck you. fuck." you closed your eyes and sighed deeply. "please. please, changbin, fuck me. i want your cock in me so bad, please... i'm begging." you whined, tears forming on your eyes.

"good job." changbin placed down the vibrator on the table and climbed over you, one hand stroking the side of your hair and his thumb grazing over your cheek. "don't cry. s'beautiful." he whispered. unzipping his pants and pulling out his hard, fat cock, pushing it against your entrance that begged for him to come inside.

"ahh, please..!" you whined. your legs were already sore from the restraints and you just wanted his cock to fill you up so good. "seo changbin!" you yelled. finally, he pushed his dick inside without a warning, erupting a yelp from your throat.

"fuck..." changbin hissed. hips unmoving as he let you adjust to the pain. "fuck, are you okay?" he asked, looking into your eyes and you nod, lips parted and unable to speak.

"better than okay. keep going..." you took deep, ragged breaths, squeezing tightly around changbin's thick cock as he began to thrust into you with an unrelenting pace — he was so much faster than you ever would have expected him to be. (not that you ever imagined having sex with him.) "ahh, changbin! keep going~" you moaned out, your voice high and desperate as he thrust into you faster and faster, the bed creaking beneath the force of his movements. the sound of you being pounded filled the room, mingling with your pleas for him to continue.

the noise of your moans and changbin's thrusting filled the room, effectively covering up the sound of keys jingling and the door slamming open. however, the moment was quickly ruined by a high-pitched scream that didn't come from either of you.

han stood frozen in the doorway, his mouth and eyes wide with shock as he took in the surreal scene before him. "OH MY FUCKING JEEBUS," he yelled, too traumatized to even flinch. he began crying and quickly barged out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. "I'M SO FUCKING SORRY, I'M SO SORRY." he sobbed. you weren't sure if he was apologizing to you guys for barging in or apologizing to himself for ever coming inside unwelcomed.

jinnie.

"hyunjin, i swear on my unborn dead great grandchild's grave. delete that photo right now." you chased hyunjin around the living dorm room as he cackled like a maniac. "hyunjin, i'm fucking serious! someone might walk in! don't be such a dickhead."

"oh, but throughout our relationship when was i not a dickhead?" he stopped running and held the phone farther out of your reach when you attempted to grab it. "y'know, i'm starting to think you wanted me to see this."

he held his phone tightly in front of your face, revealing the nude mirror selfie you took a few minutes ago and accidentally shared to him. in a panic, you accidentally unsent the photo 'for you' rather than 'for everyone' causing you to quickly cover up in a robe, run to his room in hopes that he was asleep so you could delete it before he saw anything, only to lead to this very moment.

"why on earth would i want you to see that?! delete it! " you whined and grabbed his phone but he pulled it away from your grip, his eyes flickering down to your exposed chest in your loosened robe.

"come on, y/n, stop playing hard to get." he held your chin and put his forehead against yours. you pushed him away and scoffed.

"fucking forget it. asshole." you grumbled and walked away.

"you sure?" hyunjin called out to you. "i know a way you can get me to delete it."

you froze in your step and slowly turned around, eyes meeting his across the room. of course he knows a way. it's hyunjin. you let out a small sigh and crossed your arms over your chest.

"...fine. what is it?"

hyunjin shrugged. "deal with the problem your pic caused," he set the phone aside plopped himself down on the couch, legs spread wide.

you wanted to scoff and tell him to fuck off but you thought this could be an opportunity an eye for an eye, or in this case, a nude pic for a nude pic — so, you walked over and sunk down on your knees. hands roaming his pyjama-clad thighs before ghosting over his erection. you smirked, looking up at him. "is this all just for my picture?"

"do you want it to be?"

"ugh, you're impossible."

"i technically can't be 'impossible' because i exist, the term you're looking for is that i'm 'improbable'—" his retort cut off short when you squeezed his cock through the thin fabric before kissing it softly.

"blah blah blah. you're hard for me." you looked up at him before slowly pulling his pants down along with his underwear. your breath hitching in your throat as you catch sight of his large, long, and pretty penis — fuck, you're starting to just wanna suck him off but you can't let your plan go to waste.

hyunjin looks down at you, brows a bit furrowed and lips slightly parted as he takes in steady breaths. you take in the tip of his dick into your mouth and he lets out a soft moan, you bob your head a bit before pulling away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you together. "fuck." hyunjin mutters under his breath, throwing his head back, eyes closed.

"is it good?" you ask as you pump his length with one hand. the other reaching down for your own phone in the pocket of your robe.

"more." he whines.

you smirk as you turn on your camera and turn the flash off, your right hand pauses from jerking him and you stand up to take the perfect photo of his fucked out form on the couch, legs spread and dick exposed in all his glory. hyunjin looks at you and immediately runs to grab your phone. "hey! what do you think you're doing?" he grabbed both of your wrists, squeezing your left hand until you dropped your phone to the carpeted ground.

"taking your picture since you have mine." you winced at his grip but that didn't stop you from being a bitch.

"i already told you i'd delete yours if you just-"

"what? sucked you off? nah, i'd rather use your own picture against you." you chuckled in his face.

"but you already- why did you have to- ugh, you're so frustrating!" hyunjin tossed you on the couch and pinned you down, his large frame over yours. he uses one hand to undo your robe and he lines up his member with your entrance. it was all so fast but you didn't want to interject.

"you need to finish what you started, darling." hyunjin pushed his tip inside you.

"fuck, fuck-" you hissed out as he stretched your insides and you grabbed on tightly to his shoulders. "it hurts!" you cried out and hit his back, he immediately pulled out and looked at you.

"fuck, sorry, are you alright?"

"asshole, couldn't you prep me first? you know you're big." you grumbled

"ayyo what the fuck," a deep voice erupted from the doorway. your heads simultaneously snapped to felix. his eyes darted from your position, your exposed body through the undone robe, to hyunjin's hard dick. the sparkle in his eyes faded as they grew wider and wider. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

hannie.

"stop making a fuss about everything! focus on a way to get out."

you didn't know how a private discussion with the hate of your life inside the storage room would lead to you both being trapped in it. you were convinced one of the members did so, but it was not funny.

"kick it down, asshole!" jisung stepped back, giving you space.

"you kick it down!" you yelled, almost offended that he even believed you had enough strength to kick the damn door down. "you have the years of training and working out for performances—"

"quit yapping about and just do something about it, i'm tired of sharing oxygen with you—" you slammed jisung against the wall, rendering him and yourself speechless. you didn't know what your next move was at this point, but when you saw the small tent forming on jisung's thin pyjama pants, you knew what your next move would be.

"you—"

"shut up." jisung darted his eyes away from yours, stepping closer to the door and repeatedly banging his hand against it. the loud, irritating noise filling the room. "guys! is anyone there? let us out!"

"stop it." you stepped closer to jisung, your form sandwiched his with the door on the other side. "you don't want them to hear what's gonna happen next, no?" you gently guided his body to turn around so he faced you before you got on your knees and slowly pulled his pants down, revealing his large hard-on squeezing past his black underwear.

you looked up to see jisung with no objections but still avoiding your gaze, so you slapped his bare thigh to garner his attention. "hey." you blankly called out for him. "look at me." without hesitation, he looked at you, his brows were furrowed and his eyes were watering a bit.

"fuck, can you just suck me off already?" his hands reached for your hair, pulling you toward his crotch, but you fought back, pushing yourself away from him with the help of the door behind him.

"don't be so eager, jisung—" you attempted, but he was too strong, one hand turned your head to face his dick and pushed your lips against him.

"shit," he hissed, throwing his head back. he began rocking his hips and pushing his clothed groin against your lips.

"jisung!" you yelled and slapped his thigh again, erupting a yelp from him, pausing his actions. "i told you not to be so eager."

jisung's knees fell weak and he slid down the door, sitting against it and covering his face in shame. "b-but i wanted it so bad—"

"well, you're gonna have to earn it." you got on your feet and stood, looking down at him.

"h-how?"

"make me cum."

jisung eagerly nodded and went on his knees, going straight for your crotch, but you grabbed him by his hair and pulled him back. "ah ah," you tutted. "don't be eager." slowly, you gently guided his head to your crotch. "slow and steady," you whispered and let out a breath of relief as you felt his warm breath against you.

slowly, you let go of his hair and pulled your shorts down — the scandalous sight of your enemy, han, on his knees for you, his warm breath against your skin, his erection still evident and aching against his underwear — all of it combined turned you on more than you thought it should.

you stepped backward so you had something to lean on while han pleasured you, instantly, your back met with the shelf and you hit it a little too hard — causing a stack of unopened canned paint to fall down and clatter against each other as they rolled across the floor, you and han slowly watched as it rolled from your side, all the way down to the door that was now open. your eyes went from the bare feet, slowly going up to the skinny form see hyunjin with his jaw dropped (you were surprised you didn't see it on the ground next to his feet.)

"BANG CHANNNNNN," hyunjin ran away from the ungodly sight.

"fuck." you cursed and pulled your shorts back up, running after hyunjin and leaving han on the floor. "HYUNJIN, WAIT, WHAT YOU SAW IS NOT WHAT YOU THINK IT IS." (what the fuck else could it be, y/n?)

lixie.

"c'mon, don't tell me you haven't imagined us making loveeee~" you purred, sauntering towards felix's bedside. you'd walked in on him mid-fanfiction, his phone glowing with the words of a steamy enemies-to-lovers scenario on ao3, his phone discarded and long forgotten on the floor. he flung it across the room when you walked in. funnily, he flung it in your direction. so, you picked it up and read enough to get the gist.

"don't tease, y/n. it's art, it's a- a novel—" felix tried to excuse his behaviour with a scoff and made a weak attempt to push you off of his bed, you remained seated.

"novel my ass. the literature published on ao3 are nothing but for self indulgence and the pleasures of dirty minds like yours."

"aren't most books?"

"come on, just say it. say you wanna fuck me." you giggled, poking his side teasingly. "say itttt~ ah!" you let out a pained yelp when your head bangs against the headboard and felix pins you down on his bed.

his face hovered inches above yours, his breath hot against your face. "is that so bad?" he growled, his voice dropping to a lower octave that sent shivers down your spine and straight to your core. you gulped, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

"oh shi, my bad bro, i didn't mean to trigger the demon within-" you attempt to laugh it off. but your heart raced in your chest as felix continued to pin you down with his gaze, his grip tightening around your wrists. "come on, i was just teasing, bro, let me go. i have work to do."

"come on, if you had time to come in here and tease me, you can take a few hours off work, no?" he purred, tilting his head closer to your face.

"quit joking, felix-"

"you're one to talk about joking," felix whispered, his lips brushing against your neck. you let out a breathy moan in response as he placed open-mouthed kisses on your sensitive skin.

"no, really," you gasped, threading your fingers through his hair to keep his head close. "you can't handle hours with me. you'll tap out first."

felix chuckled darkly, his hands roaming over your body. "wanna bet?" he asked, mouth against your neck, peppering kisses up until he finally connected your lips together, you moaned into his mouth and chased him as he pulled away.

"fine, let's bet then," you challenged, breaking free from his grip and reversing your positions. straddling his hips, you slowly lowered yourself onto him, grinding once, twice. his hands dug into your hips, and he buried his face in his pillow to muffle a deep groan. "what's wrong, baby boy? can't handle it anymore?" you teased. grinding again before taking your sweater off and tossing it aside.

"nah, come on, you can do better than that." felix laughed and pulled his pyjama pants down, revealing his plain black boxer shorts. you pushed his shirt up, exposing his chiseled abs, and you peppered them with kisses, pressing a soft kiss against the bulge in his underwear.

"do you think i could take you?" you tilted your head and pulled his underwear down, revealing his pretty erection. you began pumping him slowly, licking the precum off of his tip. you can feel him shiver under your touch and you smile sweetly. "can't take it anymore, honey?"

"you're being unfair." felix complained, sitting up and turning you around to put you on all fours. he pushed the small of your back down, forcing you to arch, and then expertly pulled your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. you decided to let him have his way and see what he could do to please you.

"shut. the. front. door." hyunjin stood at felix's doorway with a cheeky smile. "Y/N, YOU DID IT! I TOLD YOU BEING A BITCH TO HIM WOULD WORK!"

"HYUNJIN, GET THE FUCK OUT."

[neo-nomatrix]

The Head of Aphrodite

Aphrodite!Gojo x Ares!reader

word count: 1072

summary: You, goddess of war, go into battle with your beloved, god of love.

banners by: @cafekitsune and @saradika

warnings: idk historical inaccuracies? i tried to follow some parts of the iliad. i was originally gonna do this with aphrodite!reader and ares!gojo (or toji) but this happened. coercion by gojo. uhh gods fight mortals??? idk i needed an excuse to put them into battle and realized that it doesn’t make sense in the middle of writing

You betrayed your own mother for your beloved.

Since the beginning your mother and you had sided with the Greeks during the Trojan war. Your mother despised the Trojans. After Paris, the prince of Troy, had said Gojo was more beautiful than her. Although you agreed, she was still your mother. Yet, you were only in love with one. Gojo Satoru, God of beauty and love, the most gorgeous being through the living and the dead.

“Please, my love,” Satoru begged from beneath you.

He often did this, groveling at your feet at any chance he could get. You’re sat on your throne, a beautiful creation made of leather, metal, and skulls. It’s a drastic difference from your dark demeanor to Satorus constant beam of light following him. Your skin is adorned in your armor, face resting on your hand in boredom. His white tunic slips off his shoulder as you look down at him, revealing a chest chiseled by Pygmalion. His skin glowing radiance. He caresses your bare legs in his arms, kissing up your calves and thighs. Whispering sweet nothings to you, in hopes of convincing you.

“My loyalty is supposed to lie with the Greeks, you know this, my love,” you say back.

“No. Your loyalty lies with me,” Satoru says back, his eyes turning suddenly dark before shifting back to his mesmerizing blue ones.

“My mother would-“ you begin before Satoru cuts you off.

“To hell with Hera! She only wants you on the side of the Greeks because the Trojans worship me instead of her. You really believe she is worth more than me? Your lover?” He begs, voice almost whimpering in despair.

“What do they have to offer me?” You ask.

“Brutality. The Trojans are men of war! They will not rest until the battle is done, they are true soldiers,” The God says, knowing you would take a liking to a barbaric nature.

“You’ll be fighting by my side, my goddess,” He continued.

“Joining the Trojans would be joining the losing side. I only win,” you argue with him.

“why must you be so difficult?” Satoru thinks to himself.

“You would rather fight against me? Is that how you see me, my dearest?” He says, knowing it will push your buttons.

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it,” you say, irritated by him.

“But you did! You would rather fight with me, your lover, the god who is the reason for all your pleasure, because it means you would win a war that doesn’t even matter to us!” He reasons.

“Satoru, you started the war! You are insufferable, i’m beginning to actually want to fight against you,” Your fuse is about to blow.

“Oh, sweet girl,” Satoru muses at you.

He begins to make his way up your body from his pathetic position. Slowly touching your body, from your ankles up to your face. He presses soft, pleasuring kisses, to every part of your body he can reach. He easily finds the sweet spots on your neck and teases at them.

“Join me, my goddess. My all powerful being, creator of destruction and war,” he whispers against your skin.

“Fine,” you mumble back.

It’s not your proudest moment. A goddess who has put men on their knees due to a simple look. A goddess who has won, and started, hundreds of wars. The goddess that has been broken down so easily. A small bit of begging and touching makes you crumble. Gojo knows he has won. He smiles against your lips.

“I knew I would win.”

You’re drenched in the blood of mortals. You know none of it is yours because no warrior has yet to even come close to you with their blade. You are the Goddess of the war. Subsequently, many did not take a liking to you. Most did not worship you, and you don’t mind. You relish in slaughter and bloodlust, why would a few (thousand) mortals hating you make a difference? If it really mattered to you, you could just kill them too.

Satoru looks ethereal on the battlefield. The god of beauty really doesn’t take a day off. When you spot him he’s wiping off blood from his face, bodies surrounding him. He pulls out his grand sword from the body of a soldier, face turning into disgust when he sees the gruesome scene around him.

In contrast to you, many worshiped Satoru Gojo. They adored him. He was charming, handsome, kind, handsome, funny, and was handsome on the list? Satoru Gojo is a sight even among Gods. The mere thought of him to mortals was enough to send someone into shock.

It was no surprise when you heard a soldier talk about taking his head as some sort of trophy. Even if not surprising it still enrages you. The thought of disgusting mortals even thinking of taking your lovers head made you want to wipe out every living being on the planet.

You create a path to these said men. The aura surrounding you smelling of death. Your sword gripped in your hand. You wish for them to suffer. Your steps hold so much power the ground shakes beneath you, causing the men to fall. You begin stabbing into their chests, piercing their stomachs through the armor. Until you take one by the hair, and in one swift stroke their head comes off their body. Face going limp, stuck in an expression of fear.

Unbeknownst to you, Gojo was watching you. He was taken aback by you. The sheer power you held with you. Your muscles gleaming in the smoky air, sweat and blood decorating them. He has never seen something so attractive in his life. If he were to describe true beauty, he would say you.

You turn to him with an angry smile on your face. The once living head turned into a skull at your command. Simply another death to add to your collection.

Still seething you approach Gojo. Looking him in the eye. A dark presence follows you while your lover is surrounded by a light one. His head pounds in adoration for you. He has never felt like this in his entire life. You throw your sword into the ground, eager to touch Satoru. You calloused hands wrap around his biceps. You stare at Satoru in the eyes, his hand wrapped around your waist.

“No one touches what’s mine.”

[eluxcastar]

can we get more dadtore fics plz?🤭🤭🤍🤍

Dadtore and his raccoon child

── ୨୧：il dottore & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: dadtore gets his coat stolen and quite possibly has a mild existential crisis at the realisation he is a present and available father

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, reader’s backstory is ambiguous, it's finally acknowledged they don't talk but feel free to ignore that, sorta proofread (omg finally I edited something)

୨୧﹑words :: 1.9k

I went to publish this and realised I lost all my dividers because I'm on a new laptop so I'm gonna have to go get those back 😭😭

anyway baby has officially graduated to raccoon status because each day this child grows more feral and will continue to do so 🫵 I'm surprised I even managed to write this cause I've been calling so many grown men babygirl lately Idk what even makes one say that about König from Call of Duty but I do

Whether against your will or the result of some strange form of Stockholm Syndrome, you have somehow come to love the days spent with him. It scares him more than he'd like, knowing that your life rests in his hands, even more so that that bothers him, yet he has been unable to remain especially angry with you.

No matter what you do, what buttons you push, and how much you've forced him to rearrange his lab to practically babyproof it, his desire to consider you a pest dies. It has rapidly died since he realised you clung to him so tightly when you became ill, even if it turned out to be only a low-grade fever that you were free from in a day or two. Something about it made the growing bond he had noticed and his fondness for you skyrocket, and it all happened right under his nose while he was distracted with making you comfortable and keeping you company.

Dottore never thought he'd have a doorframe close to one of the shelves in his lab marred by the marker-made scribbles of a height tracker specifically to tell him when it's time to cram everything up another shelve, yet it's there. He sees it whenever he swivels his chair in that direction or when the segments poke at it, mildly intrigued by his interest.

He can't trust some of them yet — not with you — the ones he does trust are almost entirely uninterested in you because that keeps you safe. His segments can't gain anything from a child who only annoys them by trying to hug their leg until they shove you away. From there, you can sense that they don't want to play from the glares you get that send you scurrying back to whatever corner has the reject dolls Sandrone gave him to mock him for his soft spot, so they don't care.

Despite wishing you were little more than a lingering annoyance he could palm off to the first available parental figure, you trust him so implicitly, and he's falling victim to your charms each time you stand behind him, peeking over his shoulder to spy on him like you're so sneaky, even when he can clearly see you looming out of the corner of his eye. You show interest and want to be around him, to loiter despite knowing you will receive only acknowledgement as he talks to you.

Returning to the lab reveals that you seem to have stolen his coat again — at least, that's what he gleans from its migration from the back of his chair to the floor — though he does not particularly mind even as you drag it back to your little set of chairs set up in the corner for you to play with.

Whatever tables did to you, Dottore has yet to figure out how it made you want to shove the little table you have over there so violently all the time. In your defence, it is usually in the way, and maybe it did something to deserve it that has you holding a grudge, but it's irrelevant as you position your little chairs and drape his coat over the backs of them to make a roof for your hideout.

A child's cubby.

At some point, he noticed you took to childish things like that, even when you didn't do that before, almost like you became more…childish. It's welcome. You warm up to the safety of his care and the joy of goading him into entertaining you.

He used to bar the younger segments from making those forts as they'd put them everywhere and neglected to return the items they grabbed to do so. You are not exactly better, though you tend to use appropriate materials. It is preferable to their habits of senselessly trying to stack things on top of each other and then getting confused as to why they would all fall down when a chasm to crawl inside of does not magically appear in the absence of intentional planning.

There's a reason he's Il Dottore and not Il Ingegnere.

The stealing does not change, however.

Dottore approaches your cubby, intent on investigating this fort you've crafted with the help of his coat. He realises you're humming when he gets closer, as you have been a lot lately. You make more noises now. Not quite words, but noises, and that's more than enough for now. He'd like to hold a proper conversation with you at some point, but you won't even say your own name, let alone keep up a whole verbal conversation that doesn't require a game of charades.

"Just what are you doing?" he asks, and the moment he does, you've grabbed the overcoat from where you had balanced it and run off giggling.

You narrowly escape him, settling off by his chair where you had first obtained the coat — a fickle cat-and-mouse game that will inevitably end one of two ways — you seem intent on keeping that coat, however. He watches as you burrow amidst the thick fabric of the overcoat you mischievously stole from him, the furs tickling your cheeks and warming you up as it sits bunched around your tiny body in a heap of cloth. It engulfs you as you are, but you always like it.

What bothers him so much is that if you were any other child pulling these stunts and creating trouble, Dottore would have found some way to get rid of you by now — he could've given you to the Knave. He can't. He's tried. He tried so hard, even attempting to justify it with his own fondness by convincing himself it would be for your own good. He even talked to her about it at one point, and she almost stole you, thinking the worst, before she realised how spoiled you were by Dottore's standards.

Selfishly, he couldn't do it. He couldn't bear it, even when he told himself Arlecchino would take better care of you than he could ever.

So you're still here, still interrupting his vital work to play a mockery of hide-and-seek where you manage to be the worst yet most endearing hider he could possibly seek, burrowing yourself out of sight beneath his coat as your head disappears and you lay flat on your stomach. A pest. That's what you should be. He stalks toward you like you are a tiny pest hunted by an eager cat waiting to catch you, but stops just before you.

It is nowhere near Dottore's nature to loudly question what this stray pile of laundry is doing lying around, nor can he bring himself to try baby-talking you in that singsong voice people use for children, so he kneels in front of you instead, lowered to your eye level. You wouldn't particularly appreciate it if he did pick up that ear-grating habit anyway.

The overcoat writhes as if a creature stirs beneath it, and you poke your head out to greet him with a slowly forming cheeky grin that devolves into giggles as you realise you are caught. You duck back into the safety of his coat, burrowing amidst its comfort and returning to hiding.

He cannot possibly keep the amused huff he lets out from escaping at the sound of your giggling before shaking his head. "Are you going to come out?" he asks. Of course not. You are going to squirm under there until he pulls you out. "Insufferable little thing," he mutters half-heartedly. He's unable to find the will to be truly angry with you, though he never really was in the first place, merely relenting at your silence.

Dottore rests his other knee on the ground and steals his coat from your little hands. With it, you shortly follow as you are collected in his arms and perched on his lap as he sits back in his chair, leaving you poorly balanced yet able to shift yourself into a comfortable spot where you won't fall. Dottore wraps his coat snugly around you, just as you had done before, and lets you settle into place.

You're so small, pacified by his arms around you to reluctantly grant you the hug he knows you want. You like those. He realised that when all you wanted in your sickness-fuelled stupor was for him to cradle you in his arms and let you lean against him. Something about it makes you look so vulnerable. You need someone who can care for and protect you despite your ability to care for yourself; he is the woefully imperfect choice who should not want to take on that task but who may be uniquely suited to it because of that.

'Damaged' children who have had to adapt to the shortcomings of others do not benefit solely from perfection but can become suffocated by it. They need something that suits their unusual need for guidance without expectation of normalcy. He's living it now as his inexperience with this idea of a family forces him to confront imperfection — dismal humanity.

You will never be like a child raised in a perfect family, nor can you offer him complete dependence and vulnerability; he doesn't mind that. In exchange, he will never be your perfect father figure. He will cradle you with his imperfection and wish that this feeling makes you happy if nothing else.

You offer what you want, and he takes what is given because he wants it. Badly, he wants it, even if he is unwilling to admit the possibility of that being real.

He wants to stay like this, to keep picking you up, even when lifting your weight and gathering you in his arms grows harder each time. He wants to watch you nestle against him, mark your height on the doorframe every month, take care of you when you're sick, worry about someone other than himself, and make room for you in a place where there should be none. He wants to give you what you were almost robbed of, see you make friends and smile each day.

For now, he must start small, no more than sitting in front of what probably looks like jumbled garbage to you and resting his hand on the back of your head to pull you closer in a rare show of affection. Gentle. He is entirely unused to the idea of being gentle and protective of something that lives and breathes.

Dottore hates the very idea of your existence meaning something to him — a visceral reaction to the unfamiliar — but cannot resist the vulnerability of it all, the thought of loving someone who loves him back in a way he has yet to fathom, though he is not so presumptuous as to mindlessly believe you love him, even now. You would not be asked to point to your father and turn to him, but you don't have to. Something in that thought is exciting, a desperate grasp at unconditional love from something he cares for, even against his will, but this middle ground somewhere between babysitter and father is as comfortable as anything he wants will get.

[sebscore]

THE PRIZE THAT KEEPS ON GIVING 

pairings: jenson button x driver!reader / lewis hamilton x driver!reader / susie wolff x driver!reader / toto wolff x driver!reader / sebastian vettel x driver!reader / mick schumacher x driver!reader / kimi raikkonen x driver!reader

warnings: talk about getting drunk. a drunk kimi. swearing. the host is made up cause I couldn't find the name of the person that actually does it lol. 

author's note: idk how these award ceremonies go but then again all of this is fiction so just be delulu with me :) also, not me posting fics about the fia gala consecutively.

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''Welcome our rookie of the year, Y/N Y/L.'' The host called her up on the stage, the other attendees clapping for her as she got up from her seat. 

It hadn't been her first time on the FIA Prize Giving stage, having collected her Formula 3 European Championship trophy two years earlier. Despite having done this before, the young woman felt nervous and uncomfortable with all the eyes on her. 

She thanked the person giving her the award, anxiously smiling at the audience. Y/N found the comforting eyes of Susie in the crowd, the older woman giving her a supportive nod. 

''Y/N, thank you for being here and congratulations on being named the FIA Rookie of the Year.'' David praised her, a semi-genuine smile on his face. 

She bowed her head. ''Thank you so much.'' 

''You had a very great year, a podium and P7 in the championship standing- best of the midfield- has everything sunken in yet?'' He asked, holding the microphone up to her mouth . 

''It's really crazy, to be honest. You know, I was already happy with just scoring points in Australia, but to, uh, have made it on the podium as well… just crazy- I'm, uh, very happy with how my first season went.'' She answered, stuttering over her words a few times. 

David nodded along to her words, subtly taking a look at his notes. ''Barely two weeks ago, you shared your first podium with Lewis and Sebastian in Abu Dhabi,'' the host pointed at the two men in the audience, the both of them caught off guard by the sudden mention of their names, ''they're the World Champion and Vice-Champion of this season, how did it feel to share the podium with them?'' 

''Uh, you know- pretty great,'' her slow response garnered some chuckles from the crowd, ''they're legends of our sport so I felt very honoured to have been up there with them, especially to end the season.'' Y/N gave herself an encouraging nod at the end of her response. 

''You said after the race that the two of them were your childhood idols, and they have also given you several praises throughout the season, but there is also another person you looked up to as a child, right?'' The rookie could feel there was something coming up as David looked at her with a smirk on his face, but she was clueless as to what it was. 

Her confused face amused all of the attendees, a chorus of laughter being heard and making her even more nervous. ''Oh- I don't like that look on your face.'' She joked, the laughter growing at her response. 

''Well, Y/N- a certain someone might have informed us about an interview you did about 7 years ago when you were 11 years-old,'' David grinned, Y/N giving him a puzzled look, ''in which you said and I quote: 'I want to become a Formula 1 driver, win a World Championship and marry Jenson Button.' Does that ring any bells?'' 

As soon as the last words were said, Y/N turned her back to the audience and covered her gaping mouth, shocked they would bring this up after all the time that had passed. 

All of the attendees were having the time of their life as they saw the obvious embarrassment on the girl's face despite her trying to cover it up. 

Y/N almost tried to make a run for it, but was stopped by David who held onto her arm. ''You're not going anywhere, we're not done yet.'' He snickered, taking another look at his cards. 

''Unfortunately, Jenson is not here tonight, but we do have something else for you.'' David smirked, motioning his arm to the projector behind them- the face of Jenson appearing on the big screen. 

''Hello, everyone! I couldn't be there due to other engagements, but I just wanted to congratulate Y/N on her wonderful rookie season and for being awarded 'Rookie of the Year' tonight,'' Jenson's self-made video played, Y/N watching in shock that this was actually happening. 

''I was made aware of your aspirations to marry me,'' she could see him holding back a huge grin, ''unfortunately, I'm not single so I'm afraid that I'll have to turn the offer down, but I'm very flattered by your confidence and determination of your 11 year-old self.'' Jenson laughed, his infamous smile making an appearance. 

''Anyway- I wish you good luck for the next season and I'm sure it will be even better than this one! Again, congratulations and I hope you enjoy your evening! Bye bye!'' He bids her goodbye and the screen goes back to black. 

Y/N slowly turns back around, her perplexed expression entertaining everyone in the crowd. She was feeling a mix of emotions; disbelief, happiness and also humiliation. 

''You like the surprise, Y/N?'' David asked her, containing himself from bursting out in laughter. 

He held the mic up to her face, but for several moments she didn't say anything, staring mindlessly at nothing. ''I'm, uh, well, that was, uh,'' she stumbled over her words, trying not to curse as it was still a formal event. 

''She's speechless, ladies and gentlemen.'' David interrupted her, making everyone laugh again. ''You didn't expect that, did you?'' 

''No, I did not expect that, David.'' Y/N answers more clearly, her blunt tone resulting in some loud cackles being heard- she swore she recognized Lewis among them. 

''Alright- well, we're going to round it up here, but you're going to celebrate your season well tonight?'' He finished the interview with his last question. 

The young woman nodded her head. ''Yeah, I'm gonna drink all night to forget this.'' She responded, another symphony of laughter and snickering being heard through the large space. 

''That's really great, Y/N- everyone, a round of applause for our Rookie of the Year, Y/N Y/L!'' The female driver walked as quickly as she could in heels off the stage, making her way back to her table.

Since she was still part of the Mercedes Junior Program, she had been seated with Susie, Toto and Lewis, along with a bunch of other Mercedes employees. 

''You've really brightened the place up, Y/N.'' Susie told her the moment she sat down on her chair, a big smile on her face. 

She jokingly rolled her eyes at the older woman, staring down at her own hands in her lap. A hand tapping her arm made her look up. ''Here,'' Lewis handed her a glass of what seemed to be champagne, ''I think you can use this.'' He sheepishly smiled. 

''I've never felt this embarrassed in my life.'' She took the glass and gulped it down in one go, loudly placing the empty glass back down on the table. 

''Don't drink too fast!'' Toto scolded her, not coming across as stern since he was laughing. ''You don't want to end up like Kimi over there.'' The Team Principal pointed at the Ferrari table where a drunk Kimi Raikkonen was trying to put Sebastian in a headlock. 

''It's his Finnish blood.'' Y/N argued, filling up her glass again. 

''It was you, wasn't it?'' There could have been only one person that informed the host about Y/N's past infatuation with the British driver, and during the break she went over to his table and confronted him about it. 

Sebastian flinched at the sudden hand on his shoulder, but smiled as he took notice of who it was. Once he internalised her words, he feigned innocence. ''What do you mean? You think that I would tell anyone about Jenson?'' The teasing smirk of the Ferrari driver was one she wanted to slap from his face, but it was all in good fun. 

''Dude, that was so embarrassing!'' She slapped his arm, grabbing the attention of Hanna who sat next to him. ''Can you believe it, Hanna? I was mortified.'' Y/N turned towards the woman. 

''I knew it as soon as Jenson's face appeared, he was giggling like a schoolgirl.'' His partner nudged him with her elbow, Sebastian put his hands up in defeat. 

''Come on, Y/N- you have to admit it was a great surprise.'' A small sprinkle of doubt had planted itself in the back of his mind, maybe it wasn't a good idea after all and she would be upset with him. 

His panic of doubt was washed away as a genuine smile found its way to Y/N's face. ''It will be a nice story in a few years so thanks for that, I guess.'' Yes, she had felt incredibly ashamed, but she had also received a personal video message from her childhood crush so in her opinion, there was a good balance. 

''Uh, have you seen Mick? I haven't talked to him tonight.'' She asked the couple, wanting to check up on her friend. 

Hanna shook her head, while Sebastian pointed towards the door that led to the hallways. ''I think he went to the bathroom.'' He replied. 

''Thanks, I'll see you two later.'' Y/N bid them goodbye, smiling at both of them before disappearing into the hallways to find the young Schumacher. 

She waited against the wall across from the men's bathroom, her awkward stance must have made other people call her an idiot in their own minds. After a few minutes of looking like a weirdo, the German finally came out of the bathroom. 

''What the fuck were you doing in there?'' Y/N surprised him, he didn't expect to find her waiting for him. 

Mick took a deep breath to calm down, his friend had scared him good. ''Jesus Christ, what the fuck.'' His hand rested on his heart. 

''You can just call me Y/N, Mickie.'' She winked at him. 

'You idiot,'' he smiled, taking a step forward and pulling her in a quick hug, ''congrats on the award, by the way.'' 

''Thank you, I appreciate it.'' 

Mick chuckled. ''You know, I had totally forgotten about your crush on Jenson! It's been so long since I last heard about it.'' The German remembered all the times his friend would dream out loud about her 'future marriage' to the British driver. 

''I had forgotten about it too, until Seb decided I needed a good reminder.'' Y/N said, sarcastically making him laugh. 

The youngest Schumacher was about to reply, but was interrupted by a certain Ferrari driver. 

''Hey, Y/N! If you want to marry Jenson, you can marry Jenson! I'll be there to support you!'' Kimi wrapped his arms around Mick and Y/N's shoulders, holding them close to him. 

The young woman held in her laughter, simply patting his chest. ''Thanks, Kimi. I'll remember that.'' 

The Fin looked from her to Mick. ''Too bad, man! I know how much you like her!'' He ruffled the guy's hair, a sad expression on his face to convey his sympathy for Mick. 

Both youngsters widened their eyes, one in shock and the other in embarrassment. ''Okay- it was good to see you, Kimi!'' The Prema driver lightly pushed him away, his cheeks colouring red. 

''I can help you if- Hey, Jean!'' Kimi took notice of Jean Todt on the other side of the hallway and walked over there, leaving the two of them alone again. 

Y/N glanced at Mick who was avoiding her eyes. ''You want to tell me something, Schumacher?'' She smirked. 

''I think I need to go to the bathroom again.''

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[xob1tchs]

wait a ethan x reader but the reader is chad and mindys sister or cousin or smth ik it’s really vague sorry 😭

trust me i

fem!reader x ethan landry

warnings; short smut, oral (f receiving), kissing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, mentions of killing chad & mindy, foreshadowing that Ethan was ghost face, unedited so spelling and grammar errors!

a/n; title inspo 😸 and idk if u wanted smut or not but that’s what I know to write like “the best” even if I’m not the greatest, but i hope u enjoy nonetheless!

Your back is aching form the position you’re in, and the porcelain sink below you makes your ass hurt, but who are you to complain when your legs are over broad shoulders and Ethan landry has his head between your thighs, while a frat party rages on below the pair of you.

You find yourself whining, hips grinding against his hungry mouth, toes curling in your boots. The noises he’s making are obscene, slurping and sucking at your folds, swallowing down the sweet goo leaking from your core. His tongue is working you like a hungry beast, perfect nose pressed right against your clit, abusing the aching bud with a never ending stream of pressure.

Your eyes begin to roll back in your head when he slips a finger in, and you have to tangle your own in his curly hair, tugging him away from you with a frustrated groan “Don’t make me cum yet, y’know how I want it” he flashes you a wicked grin at the bold words, lips swollen and red, slick making them shine like a gloss, that’s covered his nose and trailed down his chin — actually dripping off to stain the collar of his graphic tee.

He rises from the ground, even taller than he normally is with the way you’re leant back, and so so pretty like this. With his hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead with the heat of your arousal, and the icky frat house, cheeks flushed and eyes all shiny. The shirt he’s decided to wear is also doing him immense favors, some sort of comic book strip, but it looks as if it could be a size too small, and stops just above the button of his jeans; hugging his biceps tightly around the hem of the short sleeves, stretching over his wide chest.

“I don’t like it when you stare at me like that” he cock a brows, hands slipping under your dress,groping at the meaty skin of your hips, before his fingers loop in your absolutely ruined lace panties, and he tugs them down your legs – not so slyly slipping them into his back pocket.

Your pout up at him, legs spreading widely, teasing him with the view up your skirt “how am I staring at you?” you bat your lashes innocently, excitement filling your chest when his fingers begin undoing his belt, slowly dragging his zipper down; flashing you a view of his raging hard-on, beneath the fabric of red Calvin Klein boxers.

His fingers slip past the silver elastic band, and he groans, eyebrows creasing as he tugs his cock out for you to admire. He wraps his fist around the base, squeezing, head falling back in the process, before he tugs languidly — precum dribbling down the length, smearing when it meets his movements. You bite your bottom lip, eyes watching in wonder, drool pooling in the back of your throat that makes you swallow thickly.

“you stare at me like- like you want to eat me”

“well maybe i do” you smile, like butter wouldn’t melt, watching the his fist tightens at your words.

When his cock is thoroughly coated with his precum, shiny and incredibly hard, his makes haste in shuffling forward, pressing the head right against your entrance; stretching you open with ease, choking at the way your pussy wraps around the most sensitive part of his lenth, wallowing in the wetness and warmth.

“Y’know chad and Mindy will kill you – we need to be quick” he looks from the view between yours legs to your face, hand creeping up your body until it wraps around your throat, applying slight pressure before his hips jut forward and his cock plunged into you at once, pulling a surprised gasp from you; that he swallows down when he tugs you forward, lips smashing into yours in favor.

“Mhm, or maybe I’ll kill Mindy and chad before they ever find out” he breathes into your mouth, and even with his cock stuffed deep inside of you, abusing your cunt with every hard thrust you still hear the words clear as day – your eyes jump open and you let out a cry of pleasure, heart seizing in your chest at the implications behind his words. There was no way Ethan could be a ghostface.

At least that’s what you tell yourself when you cream on his cock, body shaking in pleasure, mind muddled with him and only him.

[lexisecretaccx]

A+ Student pt. 1

Other parts on my Masterlist!

(Fem Reader, Both Matt and Chris, they’re both ur teachers, suggestive, set in school, nothing too much yet😉 not proofread so idk if there’s mistakes sorry! everyone is 18+!)

Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..

I hate this lecture, I sit almost at the front and the boys behind me always laugh at me every time I raise my hand or do anything. There’s only three girls in this whole lecture, including me. They’re all friends with eachother but I have nobody in here who likes me.

The only reason I’m not dropping the course is because my teacher, Professor Sturniolo is drop dead gorgeous. I’m not being dramatic, his bright blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glasses he keeps rested on his nose. His sharp cheekbones, the jawline which is sometimes prickled with stubble. His hair is a dark brown colour, slightly curly sometimes, depends if it’s been raining or not.

He wear either these button up shirts, the first 3 buttons undone and a vest underneath or tight shirts, long sleeved, short sleeved. You name it. He always pairs the outfit with a silver chain dangling from around his neck. To say he is hot is an understatement.

The main reason I like him, (except his perfect features.) is the fact that he listens to what I have to say, I think I’m the only one who takes this course seriously. I understand English is a pretty boring subject to some but I enjoy it.

“She’s not listening to the lecture for once.” I hear one of the boys whisper behind me, I turn slightly and look at them through the corner of my eye. Professor Sturniolo was slightly late today so some other teacher came in to teach while we waited for him, I just can’t focus if he’s not the one teaching me.

All of a sudden the door flies open, “sorry guys I had a flat tire.” He spoke breathlessly as he walked over to the desk, the stand in teacher says his goodbyes and walking out the class. His hair is messy from the wind and it’s slightly wet due to the rain, his button up shirt fully unbuttoned, revealing the white vest underneath, and the chain in the same place as usual.

His sleeves are rolled up slightly revealing the tattoos on his arm. “Where did Professor Michaels get up to in the book?” He asks the class, everyone shrugs and he looks to me, “y/n?” He asks me and I break out of my daydream, “hm?” I say. He chuckles softly, “where did he get to in the book? What page?” He repeats himself.

I wasn’t paying attention to anything he had said, I was too deep in thought. “Oh, I wasn’t paying attention to him sorry.” I awkwardly laugh, luckily he laughed too, “that’s not like you at all,” he smiles, “but thanks for the honesty.” He nods, “you know what, there’s only 20 minutes left so just reread over notes or something. But first did you all do your homework?” Groans and sighs come from the class behind me, signalling that they didn’t.

“Come on guys it’s easy work I’m setting! Ok who has done it?” I raise my hand, his eyes flick to me quickly and I notice the corner of his mouth raise, two other boys raise their hands. He looks at them and his eyebrows raise before he smiles at the boys.

He walks up the lecture room steps slightly and picks up my homework from infront of me, he looks down at me and smiles, he briefly rests his hand on my shoulder slightly. “Good girl.” He whispers before patting my shoulder and walking up to the boys to collect theirs.

Butterfly’s erupt in my stomach from his words, he called me a good girl, that shouldn’t have caused me to subconsciously squeeze my thighs together. I stop myself and swallow harshly to try and brush off my reaction.

He walks back down to his desk and sets the small amount of homework down infront of him to mark. I pull out my notebook to check my notes and I look at him marking the homework, he’s smiling contently and his hand is gripping the pen gently, with the other hand his ring covered fingers flip over the page.

He looks up at me and nods at me before looking back down at the homework. The end of the lecture closes in as we only have 5 minutes left, he walks up to my desk and places my homework down infront of me, 99% is written at the top with a little smiley face next to it, I chuckle softly.

I flip over the page and there’s something written in the corner, speak to me after class, you aren’t in trouble. I look at it with confusion, “what the fuck I got 12%? I actually studied a bit for this stupid homework.” I hear one of the boys yell, “fuck this class man.” He adds. “If I didn’t have something to do after this lecture I’d tell you to stay behind, watch your mouth kid.” Professor Sturniolo spoke through gritted teeth.

What does he have to do? He told me to stay behind after class, but I’m not in trouble so what could it be?

The bell rings and everyone starts packing away and leaving.. except me, I neaten my notes since they’re scattered on the desk infront of me and I stay seated. After everyone left, Professor Sturniolo walked up to my desk and grabbed the chair from the desk infront and sat on it backwards, resting his arms on the bit where you usually lean your back on.

“I know I’m not in trouble but why am I staying behind?” I nervously ask him, fidgeting with my nails. “You’re a great student, probably the best in my class y/n,” he starts to say, smiling softly. “I was wondering if you would help Thomas in some of the lessons. If he doesn’t pass this semester he’ll have to be dropped from the school.”

“Thomas? The quiet kid? I didn’t know he was failing this class.” I reply, “but I’ll help him in the lectures, he can come sit by me.” I smile back at him, “thank you, that’s not the only reason I wanted you to stay behind though.” He smirks slightly.

“Oh? What’s up Profe-” he shushes me, “Call me Matt, Professor Sturniolo is too formal.” He chuckles, I nod before also laughing. “Okay, Matt.. why do you want me to stay here?” I ask, leaning my cheek on my hand.

He swallows nervously and looks at the clock on the wall, “you got flustered.” He spoke. I tilt my head in confusion until I realise what he’s talking about and my cheeks flush red. “Uh..” I stutter. “It’s ok.” He nods at me smirking, I feel his hand on my knee from the other side of the desk. My leg tenses up by the sudden touch.

“I said what I said y/n, you are a good girl. You always listen and answer questions the others fail to answer, and you always pay attention to me.” I feel a shift in the air as a tension builds around us, I nod softly. “Thank you.” I speak, not knowing what to say entirely.

He chuckles, “your overall grade for this semester is gonna be an A.. don’t tell the other students I told you yours yet.. ok?” He leans in and looks into my eyes with a stare I don’t recognise. The sexual tension grows, “why an A? I thought I was A+ grade? I was last semester.” I say confused. “You just haven’t done as well as last semester, you’ve still done so well and I’m proud but you could improve.” He smiles.

“I’m really trying my hardest I don’t think I can improve, what could I do to bump my grade up just slightly, like extra credit?” I ask in a needy tone, I need to get an A+ I promised my mom I’d get all A+ in English since she knows I’m great at it.

“What are you willing to do?” He asks, this time in a lower tone and he leans in slightly. “Anything!” I nod, “I really need an A+ I promised my mom I would.” I lean in and smile innocently. “You’d do anything?” Matts eyes flick to my mouth and back up to my eyes.

The realisation hits me and I lean back quickly, not realising how close we actually got. I look at him with an eyebrow raised slightly, “were you implying that..” I breathe in nervously. “That I..” I stutter. “Hey y/n calm down it’s ok.” He grabs my hand and nods reassuringly. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable I thought that it was something you would want.. I know it’s wrong I’m sorry.” He studies my face.

I want to kiss him and touch him in places others haven’t even seen, but it’s wrong. He’s my professor, yes it’s wrong but not illegal. I’m 18. “I do want it.” I whisper, looking down at my lap. He lifts my chin with his finger, “do you?” He smirks, standing up from his seated position.

I nod, “yes.” I smile up at him. “Good girl.” He whispers, walking around to the side of my seat, “the next lecture is starting soon, but take this.” He grabs my pen from the desk and starts to scribble on a spare piece of paper. I look down at it to see he’s writing his number. After he wrote that he added, Text me :)

He pats my shoulder and starts to walk to the front of the class, I pack away my stuff, making sure to keep the little note safe. I can’t believe that something I’d been fantasising about is actually happening? I can’t let anyone know no matter how much I want to.

I walk down to the front of the class, giving a flirty wave to Professor Sturniolo before leaving the classroom. I pull out my phone and add in the number to a contact, “Matt” I named it. My next class is gym class. They always make us do gym with a male teacher, but today we have a new one apparently. “I’m telling you him and Professor Sturniolo are identical!” A boy says to his friend as he walks out of the gym class.

Identical? I remember Matt mentioning to the class that he’s a triplet but I didn’t know one of them was a teacher too. I walk into the locker room and change into my vest and very short booty shorts. It’s the only shorts I like and I haven’t been dresscoded for them, even though my ass is practically on show.

I walk into the gym class and sit down on the bench next to my only real friend, Lizzy. “Hey you okay?” She asks me as I walk over, “yeah why!” I say happily. “You just actually seem happy for once it’s strange but it’s also good!” She smiles at me. “Do you find Professor Sturniolo attractive?” I ask her randomly, I just wanna know if I’m the only one who’s so besotted with him.

“Meh, I don’t have him as a teacher, some girls like him but I don’t, he’s not my type though.” She shrugs, “who is your type?” I ask her, she shrugs again, “I don’t know but I just don’t find him hot.” She swallows harshly. My attention gets taken from her as the new teacher walks in.

He’s identical to Matt, but there’s a difference between them, this guy doesn’t have glasses or stubble. He scans the room, most the girls aren’t in gym class today I don’t know why. “Small class huh?” He chuckles, “it’s usually bigger some people just aren’t present.” I speak up. He instantly turns his head to face me.

We make eye contact, butterflies fill my stomach, he does look like Matt that’s why. “Oh okay thanks.” He smiles at me, “gather around y’all.” He calls to the class and we all oblige. “We’re gonna be doing dodgeball today, something simple.” He nods and again his eyes lock with mine briefly.

He clears his throat before we set up the two zones, it starts, me and Lizzy are on the same side. Mr Sturniolo starts to throw the dodgeballs to us, “what’s the betting she’s gonna be an A+ student in this class aswell.” A girl on my side whispers to her friend, “I think she fucks the teachers to get those grades!” The other one replies, they both laugh but I brush it off. As I’m throwing the dodgeballs at the other team one of the girls snatches the dodgeball out of my hand.

“Fuck off.” I say to her, “so scary..” She laughs back. I pick up a dodgeball and launch it at her, it smacks right into her nose and she falls to the ground. “Oh my god you bitch!” Her friend spoke to me.

“I’m sorry I didn’t expect it to hit her face!” I reply back, “Sir!” Her friend calls over Mr Sturniolo, I step back slightly and bump into someone, he turns me around by my shoulders and looks down at me. I had just walked back into Mr Sturniolo, “sorry.” I whisper, he pats my shoulders and let’s go of them, just how Matt does.

“What’s happened?” He looks down to Rachel lying on the ground holding her nose, “Rachel was be-” I go to speak but am cut off by her friend “y/n launched the dodgeball at Rachel’s face for no reason! She’s not even on the opposing team!” Her friend Jess leans down and helps Rachel up. “Take her to the nurse or something.” He spoke to Jess before shrugging. “I’ll talk with you after class okay?” He nodded to me.

I sigh, “okay.” I continue the game, less enthusiastic this time. The bell rings and we all go into the locker room to change back into our clothes, “I’ll talk to you later yeah?” Lizzy says to me and I nod, grabbing my bag and heading back into the gym class.

He’s sat on the bench on his phone, “hey Mr Sturniolo.” I say, his head flicks up to me and he smiles, putting his phone down next to him. “Call me Chris, please.” He pats the bench next to him for me to sit.

I sit down, “I’m sorry, she was being rude to me and assuming stuff, and I got mad I shouldn’t have done that.” I say sighing. “It’s okay, I heard her. She’s a bit dramatic if you ask me.” He laughs, “she’s taking the drama course I think.” I also laugh.

“I’m glad you actually understand and are apologetic for what you did though..” He smiles at me, I smile back and nod, our attention is drawn to the doors of the gym as they open and Matt walks through them, “Chris, Nick was wondering if you wanted to-” he pauses as he notices me sat there too.

“Hey..” he smiles at me, “hi.” I look at him and back at Chris, taking in their similarities but also their differences.

Chris pats my knee before standing up and walking to Matt, “one sec.” He whispers, smiling down at me. I see them talking but can’t hear. They laugh slightly before I make eye contact with Matt, my stomach filling with butterflies once more. “See you tomorrow or something y/n!” He calls to me and as Chris turns Matt does a slight wink, causing me to squeeze my thighs together lightly before relaxing them.

“Sorry for that interruption..” Chris laughs, “brothers am I right? Unless you don’t have any I’m not sure.” He slows down his sentence, I shrug. “I don’t have brothers, I had a step brother but his mom broke up with my dad, he’s a year younger than me so he really bugged me.” I chuckled lightly. “Matt said you’re a great student.” Chris spoke after a few seconds of silence.

“Yeah I’m pretty good at some subjects, depends on who’s teaching me and if I find the subject interesting.” I smile at him, “well hopefully you get good grades in this class, if not there’s ways you can get higher grades anyway.” He smirks before standing up. “I gotta set up for the next class but feel free to stay if you want, it’s lunch now isn’t it?” He asks me, and I nod “I gotta get going to meet Lizzy but I’ll see you next lesson.” I smile and he nods back.

As I walk out the class I think to myself, what could he have meant by ‘ways for me to get higher grades anyway’? Was he implying a similar thing to what Matt was? I don’t know but I’m intrigued to find out more..

A/n: how is everyone liking the start for this series, I haven’t done a love triangle fic or series before so I hope it’s gonna be good for u!! I am sorry but idk if I’m gonna finish the Mine series rn bc I do wanna focus on this one more but my posting schedule is fucked bc I’m so busy w revision and stuff but I’ll try and post as frequently as I can!!

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