#it's not that it always used to be like this it's that it's never like this now ever
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hansooyung · 1 day ago
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only you can show me this
#jayvik#arcane#do you think he kept talking to him for years and years#and discussing the ideas like they used to but he never answered#do you think jayce still has some life to him because he wasn't alone there all this time
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all that remained were fields of dreamless solitude
only you can show me this
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ffiolette · 2 days ago
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SEVIKA TWT LINKS
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INCLUDES— wlw, making out, groping, nipple/breast play, usage of toys (eg. dildo, strap) grinding, hair pulling, clit play, choking, fingering, cunnilingus, spanking, squirting, buttplug.
WARNINGS— 21 links, all of these videos are for afab readers/viewers, don't like don't read/watch, make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working please lmk !
vika fingering your cunt with her hand on your throat
she never wants to leave your pussy
sevika squeezing your throat while she sits on your face
she loves it when you get all dressed up
sevika taking charge of your pleasure and bouncing you on a dildo
sevika using your mouth with her thick cock
grinding on her pillow when she's out late working
fucking yourself on her lap
sevika spanking her pretty girl for being a brat
she fingers you so good it has you gripping her arm like a vice
grinding her needy pussy all over your face
sevika taking care of her girls pretty pussy like this
she always fucks you with her strap so good
when aftercare with sevika gets heated
she loves it when you ride her so she's able to feel your tits and tummy
making her pretty girl squirt
THIS is just so sevika coded
she finally let you go down on her and all you could do was pay attention to her clit
you always love it when she lets you ride her cunt
fucking your throat with her fingers
sevika always has your pussy sounding like this within minutes
ffiolette
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screampied · 1 day ago
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PARTITION! g. satoru
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ৎ୭ sum. your sugar daddy, satoru’s worst fear happened. he fears you’re too much of a spoiled rotten brat. screw riding in his expensive private limousine—you wanted to ride something else instead. (him, duh)
wc. 7.3k
warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy gojo! au, age gap (early twenties + thirties), car sęx, bratty reader, unprotected, getting eaten out the window, tít job, reverse cowgirl, doggy, cunnīlingus, nanami cameo, slight alcohol consumption, size kink, cęrvix kissing, possessive themes (wearing waist beads w his initials), implied multiple rounds, he’s sooo whipped, bręeding.
➤ sd! gojo masterlist
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“meet my baby here, sweets. charlotte.”
“satoru, what.”
as satoru had an arm slinked around your waist, brushing a thumb across the jewels that stuck against of of the many designer blouses he’s bought you within the past week, he hums. the two of you were staring straight at a limousine. it was icy blue like his eyes with a plethora of dark-tinted windows. to even top it off, it had ‘G.S limousine service, inc.’ carved into the side of one of the doors in bright, blue cursive.
you huffed, smearing your glossed lips together. “you named your limousine?”
“heh, well she’s yours now,” he hums, guiding you toward the slid open doors. “c’mon, there’s a club i wanna take you to. if we leave now, we can beat the press.” and satoru takes a peek at his gleaming, pricey watch. he helps lifts the back of your long skirt from touching the ground before you step in. immediately, you’re hit with flashing lights inside the luxurious car and its plush red seats.
“where to, sir.” a blond chauffeur adjusts his mirror with a sigh, taking a short glance at you.
satoru throws an arm around you, tugging lightly on his tie that’s tucked neatly in his suit. “ah, kento, meet my girl. and please—drive us to my private lounge,” satoru kisses your cheek as you sit, whispering in an impish, low tone. “buckle up, sweetheart. ‘s gonna be a bumpy ride.”
the seats were oh-so-soft, a violent hot color of maroon as the entire limo was lit up with nothing but dim flashing, flashing lights.
it was bright, the size alone was probably bigger than a simple normal bathroom. satoru saw you taking in the luxurious life like you always did, craning your head from left to right before peering at the empty wine glasses in front of you both.
“it’s so pretty,” you hummed, your head resting against his shoulder.
once you’re laid against him, you’re smacked with his signature loud cologne scent. it was always a scent you’d never forget, nor could you get used to.
it’s strong, making you take the citrusy manly aroma in silence every time.
with a raised brow, you look up at the white-haired man before timidly murmuring, “wait- what do you mean this is mine? like.. the whole thing?”
“yeah, silly girl,” satoru brushes a thumb around the center of your forehead in invisible circles.
you’ve grown to get weak with his tender touch every time. cerulean-iced eyes lock against you lovingly, and that’s when that cunning grin spreads at each side of his crooked lips. “think of it as an uh- surprise gift for the new year.”
with a pout, you open your mouth to complain. “satoru- last week, you just bought me-”
“a convertible, and i’d do it again in a heartbeat,” satoru whispers, planting another kiss near your temple.
your incoming words come to an abrupt pause, and the cute speechless look you gave him always made him hum in amusement.
one of the many things satoru liked- no loved about you, was that you were always so humble.
you were forever grateful, but you couldn’t help but be hesitant sometimes at how much he’d constantly spend for you. satoru continued to shower you with compliment though—constantly reassuring you that he wanted to splurge his money on you.
you were living the dream - literally.
embodying the life of a rich girl, a type of rich girl where you’d usually see in cheesy movies or sung in iconic songs by artists like gwen stefani.
even though it’s been a full-blown year, you’ve started to grow accustomed to the sweet luxury of being a sugar baby.
satoru gojo’s sugar baby.
but he wasn’t starting to see you as just his pretty ‘lil sugar baby though, that much was apparent.
satoru didn’t expect you to not only take his money but his heart too.
and he never minded.
he couldn’t put a price on that anyway.
“besides,” he grabs a clear, empty glass and an unopened bottle from underneath the fuzzy, red seat. with a flick, satoru removes the cork that is plugged near the top with just his thumb and middle finger. as he pours a small portion of wine inside, the velvet-colored liquid stains against all sides of the glass.
“what’s mine is yours, baby,” he takes a sip before sighing at the cassis flavor hits against his tastebuds, “ ‘s what my sweet thing deserves.”
as you’re still pouting, the limo continues to drive.
the windows were tinted, but it was clear as day when you looked through them to take a quick peel. as usual, the roads were quite busy with rush hour but it was a smooth ride nonetheless.
however though, you had to admit, you were getting a bit… bored.
satoru sat man spread, both of his wide legs taking so much unnecessary space before he contemptibly sighed again. with one of his arms still wrapped around you, you took a moment to take in his suave, handsome appearance.
he always was draped in nothing but tuxedos—
after all, without the whole sugar daddy side thing, you sometimes forget how satoru was a literal well-known businessman.
he never really went into the specifics of his work, but you knew he was the CEO of some private company.
satoru was a very powerful man, a man with a big net worth … but an even bigger heart.
the shoes that satoru wore were dress shoes of his own brand, of course. in the luminous, glittery lights of the inside of the limousine—the shoes were visibly spit-shined from top to bottom. his suit’s dark black, and the handkerchief that stuck out of his front chest had the imprints of your lipstick on it.
of course he kept that.
his hair..
it’s messily ruffled but somewhat presentable, slicked back as usual with a faint side part. over time, you started to notice how he was growing facial hair too.
it’s subtle, and you’d have to squint but you saw it. you saw how specks of white hair were trying to form down near his chin.
it was attractive nonetheless, and the thought of satoru growing a stubble had you squeezing your thighs together in shame.
after all, he was in his early-thirties so he was bound to grow some facial hair at some point. he’s always been a well-shaved man, but the image forever plagued your mind.
“yeees, sweets.” he snaps you out of your little fantasm, the near-empty wine glass still in his hand. he sits the expensive bottle of ‘screaming eagle’ near the limo’s bar that was covered with dozens of tiny, pretty rhinestones.
“h.. huh?” you stammer, blinking thrice.
shit.
the way you stared at him was like a deer in headlights. caught red-handed!
that same wry grin that stretched so slyly pried at both cracks of his lips before satoru tilted his head. “you’re starin’ y’know,” and you felt his hand placed on your thigh. “is my baby bored?”
“a little,” you admitted, hearing the loud screeching of tire wheels and screaming horns of other cars in the background.
only satoru could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world..
slowly, satoru dragged his pink tongue over his upper lip which was a bit damp from the scarlet-colored wine.
you sucked in a raucous breath - your thoughts turning more ‘n more filthy by the second.
his lips.. they were so perfect, naturally glossed, and forevermore had a plump downward curve. you could stare at them all day, and your eyes widened once a drip of wine started to trickle down the right side of his lip.
“ooh- excuse me. guess ‘m a bit messy today,” he throatily chuckles, feeling the coldness of the red droplet race down his skin. “would you be a doll ‘n lick that up for me, sweetheart?”
“okay-” you comply right away, positioning yourself on his lap.
satoru titters, cocking his head lazily toward the left as you get comfortable. cute, he thinks.
he could already tell how eager you were. also, he didn’t tell you the duration of the ride but it was probably about a good hour.
like hell could you even wait that long.
it felt like time was so cruel - standing still as you inched closer and closer toward his face. satoru laid man spread the entire time, eyeing you closely with his gaze never leaving yours.
he paws a big hand near your waist, hearing your pretty airy breaths pick up.
“stop looking at me like that-”
“aw, is it a crime to stare at my gi-”
satoru’s fatally silenced with a kiss.
it’s a rough one, and you couldn’t wait to run your tongue across the remnants of cherry-flavored wine that now started to drip down his chin.
it tasted sweet - a spicy cherry flavor, and you moaned once his knee aligned itself between your thighs.
his thigh was so bulky too, even underneath the lanky, slender slacks he wore. satoru was a particularly ripped guy in general — you knew his workout routine like the back of your hand, and sometimes he’d even let you do sets with him.
(sets that mainly consisted of you sitting on his back while he did push-ups orrrr sitting on his abs while he used barbells in his private gym)
“mhm~” you moan against his lips, hearing the competitive sounds of teeth rudely smacking against each other in vigorous sync.
each tongue’s on a dangerous mission, desperately trying to dominate the other and you couldn’t help but melt.
your twisting, hot tongue started to wander, creating a slippery snail trail near the crack of his mouth before nibbling on his bottom lip. “sa- satoruu.” you’d breathe, one hand giving his tie a needy, impatient pull.
“heyyy, you know i don’t speak whine,” he whispers, breaking away from your lips for a second.
your lips were already swollen, slickly shining with saliva that could’ve been an easily replaceable substitute for lip gloss. “use those words, sweetheart,” and it was like the more he spoke, the deeper his voice seductively pitched.
the knee that still rested between your sprawled open legs didn’t make things easier either. “tell me what you want ‘n maybe i’ll give it to ya, hm?”
with a huff, you mumble a soft, “you-”
“well yeah, me silly! elaborate for me though.”
“i want- i want you.. i want all of you satoru. right now,” you go into more detail, leaning in to paint a slope of wet kisses down his neck. satoru’s collar was a bit unkempt—some exposed skin showed above his collar which you then brought upon yourself to attack with kisses. “pretty please.”
“hah- but.. you already have me,” he inhales, groaning once he feels you starting to grind against his lap.
satoru’s touch was pure static..
his fingers couldn’t help but mindlessly roam, tickling against your bare skin that protruded through the minuscule squares of your ripped fishnets.
the stare you two shared was just so intimate, and he could almost already smell your lusty, loud arousal..
“mhm- y’know, what i want too?” satoru huskily whispers against your ear, grunting as your hips slooooowly rubbed against his visible boner.
hugely, it stuck out through his jet-black slacks. leave it to you to always make him hard.
“tell me.” you reply with a chastened frown, sliding a hand up his loose button-up. your hand enters underneath his shirt and his skin is so warm that it feels like his entire body is on fire.
right away, your curious palm gets a taste of his hardened abs that were nearly akin to the texture of a damn brick.
rigid, flexing muscles of satoru’s relax at your touch before he grabs a nice chunk of your ass.
“oh, nothing! ‘m just a.. ‘lil thirsty, sweets..”
♡ ♡ ♡
“ohmygod-” you’d squeal, cupping a clammy palm over your mouth.
when satoru said he was thirsty, you surely didn’t expect him to have you hanging out the window with your ass perfectly perked out.
with a single hand, he pulled up your skirt, raising it to the brink of your waistline while dragging your pretty lace panties to the side with a single thumb.
you were partially hanging out the window - safely though, he’d never let you fall.
satoru had an arm wrapped around your waist, one hand sliding down your thigh. vehemently, his tongue swirled circles around your clit before giving it one looooong suck.
his lips puckered, and he could already feel your hips starting to stutter against his mouth.
“mng- ‘toru,” you’d heave, wriggling your ass around his face. the tip of his nose started to rub up and down your slit too, and he’s shamelessly getting a whiff of your candied mess.
he was always so nasty, proudly spitting on your pussy, lapping it up before it dripped onto the thousand-dollar seats.
“mhh- wiggle that ass a little more for me baby, dance with my.. haaah- tongue,” he whispers airily, thumbing a fat finger near your pulsing clit. satoru found it so cute how you’d pulse every time he’d smear slippery circles around your pussy.
you just couldn’t help it!
you’re sucking in each ‘n every breath, sinking the edges of your teeth into your bawled knuckle to suppress your moans.
a strong gust of wind strikes you as the car continues to move, and you’re just meekly smiling at the cars that pass by.
from their points of view… the drivers are just seeing some random girl slightly hanging out a halfway-lowered limousine window.
in reality though,
you were getting eaten out while dozens of cars speedily drove past you.
through your slightly blurred peripherals, you saw satoru’s chauffeur who you remember hearing him address as ‘kento’ earlier, giving you a peer through his side-view mirror. he had his hands firmly on his steering wheel, scoffing to himself with a head shake.
he mumbled something under his breath as he looked away, focusing his browned eyes on the talking GPS that read him the directions to the destination.
from your sweet, repetitive moans, you couldn’t exactly make out what he said but from a quick read of his lips, you’d probably guess it was something like:
“i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
as you’re still hung out the window, your legs part a bit - causing your eyes to widen.
satoru’s slurping you clean, skipping frisky plump fingers down your thigh before cupping his plump lips around your pussy. his head, it moves back and forth, ferociously shifting side to side like a damn madman.
you probably looked soo stupid. your mouth stayed open the entire time with your jaw forever dropped—dangling like an earring.
“fuh- fuuuck,” your trembling voice pitches higher, and you claw a hand near the back of your ass.
tightly gripping at a piece of your ass, it fits around your hand entirely before you turn to look back at satoru.
already, his chin’s got a pretty coat of your juices pouring down his jaw. his tongue was just hungry, wanting far more than just a few sips of his expensive screaming eagle..
you were far sweeter than any beverage, and satoru continuously took big, big gulps.
he treated his lips like a straw, pursing them to suck before slurping every single drop of you clean until you could barely hold your legs open.
“mhm- look at alllll this pretty fuckin’ ass,” he groans, removing your hand that was gripped on your rear.
with a whack! he hits it, humming at the cute ‘lil jolt of your shimmying body.
your skin jiggles in his face instantly, and you feel his curving tongue precisely slow its frantic pace down by the second.
there….
the tip of his pointed tongue stretched itself so far out that it clicked itself against your precious g-spot. “mng- spread y’rself wider, baby. ‘m not done with my.. hah- drink.”
“suh- sssatoru,” you’d drag out your whiny, pathetic words.
your brows formed into a furrow as your hands grabbed onto the edges of the rolled-down window. sweaty, perspiring fingertips imprinted the fogged glass as he licked every wet orifice thoroughly.
thankfully, some music was blasting in the background—seemingly drowning out your constant, pleading whines and whimpers..
satoru’s designer tie even gets a bit wet - you’re drip drip dripping, tears of glossy slick pouring flawlessly from both sides of your legs. he brings a thumb toward your hole, feeling your cute wriggles before spitting down your pussy.
slowly, the webby string trails a straight, sloppy line down and he licks it up — removing his thumb and starting at your hole before lapping his tongue down the bottom part of your pussy.
he’s wholeheartedly feral - animalistic, working his tongue until your brain turns into mush.
eventually, you ended up crawling back into the spacious limousine and landed on your back.
with your legs still spread, satoru lifts your thighs, continuing his feast. “mmph- get back here, sweets. ‘m not haaah- done,” he’d jibe each time he’d squint to see your cute weak pulse up close.
you’re impatient - desperate for your release so much that you could almost taste it..
it tasted sweet with a bit of tang, and the more you fantasized about your inevitable orgasm— the more more more you were starting to blank out all on his tongue.
“mnh- attaaaaa girl, let ‘toru get a nice good sip.” he’s still slurping you, a few excess juices smearing against his cheek.
satoru’s long, white lashes flutter open and close as he relishes in your treacly taste.
you just couldn’t stay still though.
with the way your hips cutely tossed ‘n turned each time his tongue delved inside of your sopping cunt, he’d think your middle name was ‘squirmer.’
time drags by for a looong time, not as long as satoru’s tongue though.. not by a long shot..
it flicked its way through each spot, munching proudly against your clit before your tummy tucked inward. your brain haywires, and with your mouth wide open — the only sounds that escaped were small, labored breaths.
you’re cumming, and your lashes frantically blinked at so many blinks per second. your muscles that were once tense relaxed as you’re finally succumbing to pleasure.
you squealed out that final, harmonic battle cry before your head plopped into the edge of the limo’s seat.
“fuck- fuck, fuuuck,” you’re whimpering, repeating the same swear like a broken record as you feel him grab ahold of your writhing hips.
his tongue’s length curved its way everywhere, creating a path to remember as it made itself known at all tender areas of your pussy.
“uh huh- that’s it, good girl. ride it out, riiiide it out, i gotcha,” he groans, laying his tongue fully flat. it’s a rose-like pink, soddened tastebuds sizzling in contempt once you’re ‘quenching’ his thirst with your sweetened arousal.
buzzing sounds went in and out of your ears as you just released huff after puff through your lungs. satoru’s lips were glossed with nothing but your slick, even more than they already were.
he gives your poor, convulsing clit its last finally smooches before reluctantly breaking away.
“hah- never a dull moment with her,” he licks his lips from top to bottom, grabbing out his lipstick-stained handkerchief before patting underneath his chin. “you okay, sweetheart?”
“ ‘m okay,” you breathe, still feeling tingles surge through every one of your veins that ran down your wobbly, numb limbs. your legs had it the worse.
you barely felt anything, and satoru helped you back to your feet.
it was a limo, so it wasn’t like you could exactly stand but you sufficed by crouching just below the fuzzy-made hood.
satoru lies slouched back - giving his lap a few playful pats before tilting his head at you. “c’mere, sweet thing,” and his voice was dripping with erotic silk.
his ocean-strong eyes zero down at your body, trailing up up up before eventually stopping just about your waistline.
your skirt was now off — pulled to the floor and so were your panties. you only had your matching blouse on. you got an idea though, and satoru watched you get on your knees. “oh..?”
“ ‘toru,” you speak in shortened puffs, still trying to get over your recent teeth-shattering orgasm. every sensitive axon and nerve located in your body was screaming at you, aching for more stimulation as time passed.
as your hands casually spread his long legs wider across the cushioned seats, you hummed. “remember those waist beads you ordered me a few weeks back?”
“mhm,” he nods, eyes never darting away from your wriggling body for a second.
satoru wondered what your game was.
as he was trying to prevent himself from smiling, he was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe you were starting to get just a liiiiitle bit spoiled.
as his legs were fully sprawled apart, you brought your hands toward the hem of the designer blouse that stuck against your skin. you honestly lost count of just how many clothes satoru’s bought you within the past year.
he watches closely - zeroing down at your figure, nipping on his lip as he stares at you leisurely pulling the piece of clothing off of you.
satoru’s seen your skin countless times, but there was just something about your body that he just couldn’t get enough of.
couldn’t get enough of you..
if he was being honest, he could stare at you all day.
“look. it fits perfectly,” you speak in a sweet tone, your thighs stuck together as you were still dripping from the inner crevices. you could feel yourself throbbing, and it took everything in you to not let out a moan.
satoru tsks, kissing his teeth once he’s now exposed to your skin.
the damn beads,
they wrapped around your waist and indeed fit your entire torso. his eyes studied the gold that went around your raised hips, whistling once he saw those two crystallized initials - his initials.
‘G.S’
the small two letters hung on one waist bead that was drooped low near your naval and an extra twin pair near the charms behind your back. “fuuuck- know that’s right,” satoru huffs, his breathing starting to get a bit heavy.
“all mine, heh- looks so damn pretty on you,” and as his eyes continued to meander down your skin, satoru’s head rests back against the softly cushioned seat. “hm- how ‘bout you model for me? show off that gorgeous body a little more f’ me.”
“say ‘please’,” you’d get on his lap, wrapping your arms around him. satoru looks up at you with a mere pouting scowl, a hand instinctively attaching itself to your hip.
“pleaaase, oh-pleaseeee sweets. don’t tease me too bad, you’re bein’ a bit of a spoiled girl right now,” he whispers, bringing wet, cold lips toward the corner of your neck. you moaned, feeling satoru’s free hand strum a few fingers down your waist beads.
they clank clank clanked, creating pretty jingle sounds at each faint movement before you started to move your hips.
“goddamn-” he holds in a breath, practically wordless as his eyes continued to rove.
briskly, you slowly turned yourself around, teasingly popping your hips to the dropping beats of the song that played through the limo’s speakers.
satoru’s suddenly short of breath, circling a thumb around the left cheek of your ass. he’s so hard, and you could feel it the more you rubbed your ass right up against thaaat particular spot.
he sucks his teeth once more, grunting as he feels the cloth knead against your skin so good..
“woman, you’re bein’ such a bratty tease right now..” and he could taste that round, large lump forming near the very back of his throat.
satoru shivers as your hands place on the crown of his knees, and you’re starting to rock rock rock back ‘n forth his throbbing boner. “hmph. the things i let ‘cha get away with, lucky ‘m not.. haah- fuck, bending ya over my lap, baby.”
“you talk a lot for a guy with a boner this hard, ‘toru.” you shrug, continuing the sensual jerking of your hips.
he’s grunting at every swift turn of your body, hearing his heart loudly thump through his ears.
the limo’s speed picks up a few miles and you could hear the grumbling from underneath the vehicle as you stayed quiet for a few seconds.
“mmh- fine, since you said please.”
as you’re still facing the other way, you reach for his buckle with your fingers brushing near the cold straps. you couldn’t see, so he grabbed your hand—guiding you where to unbuckle his slacks.
“f.. fuck, hurry up. you rubbin’ against me isn’t helping matters at all, y’know,” he tries to laugh but it comes out very dry.
satoru just wanted to be inside you, making you remember your place with a few sloppy strokes.
you giggled, hearing his pants and boxers sliiiide down to his ankles with a thud before jostling your rear way back against his leaning cock. it hung so cutely, and its tip was swollen with veins protruding at a few girthy sides.
with satoru still having a hold of your hand, he makes you touch the leaking head. “ooh,” you hum, twirling a thumb around his tender frenulum.
as you do so, he moans out the sluttiest moan, pretty white lashes squeezing shut for about three seconds to savor this moment.
“heh.. little girl,” he gutturally prowls, aligning his dick in between the crack of your fleshy mounds. it’s very hard, and you hummed at the warmth he provided. “go on then.. ride me in reverse, sweets. this the ride you wanted all along, hm?”
“yeaah,” you played along, almost seeing the weary smirk unfurl across his lips as he spoke.
you couldn’t wait any longer either.
you were throbbing persistently, every fiber of your being longing for satoru to ease his way inside of your pretty, sobbing cunt.
he was so big that your hand could barely wrap around the entity of his length. instantly, your palms met with various veins as you raised your hips moderately.
his vermillion-shaded tip carefully hovered over your dripping hole, and satoru’s just heavily breathing at your stilled body.
“mngh-” you released a rough, jagged breath once you were slowly making your way down on his cock.
like usual, you’re presented with that loving tiiiiight stretch that lasts for about a good four seconds.
satoru’s tip alone was big, and it pummeled through your insides as his inches started to leisurely disappear.
it’s such a lewd scene - a scene he wouldn’t mind replaying over ‘n over again in his head..
your pussy sings out sloshes of wet high notes in harmony, trying to take in his weighty shaft.
your mouth opens up on its own, and you’re breathing out colorful swears of ‘ohhh fuuuck’ ‘s as you continue to sink your way down.
from the both of you, countless breathy breaths were drawn from both raspy lungs as the mouthwatering penetration continued.
it felt like a squeeze pinching near your insides, tickling around you from the inside before adding pounds of pressure pressure pressure..
your hands go back to being placed on his knees, whimpering as his slick cock eases its way inside of your pussy. spongy, clamping walls hugged around him like a vice and your teeth were starting to feel that familiar chatter.
“god- always s- so fuckin’ big, ‘toru,” you moan, your bratty ‘lil façade shortly faltering once he’s finally buried balls fuckin’ deep.
the pit of your tummy was constantly heaving, cowardly sucking itself in and out at the sheer weight of his size before you eventually relaxed.
“perfect fit for my perfect… hah- girl.” he grunts, taking a quick peer down at your unbalanced thighs that struggled to move at first.
gradually, your hips started to move and greeted satoru’s lap with a sharp, rude slam. once you started to adapt to a rhythm, your hips rolled and rolled.
“agh- that’s i.. iiiiit,” he choked on his saliva, playing with the waist beads that danced against your torso as you moved.
satoru moans, feeling his fat base smush its way against your ass once you sat down. your hips were reeling, winding back into his pelvis like a wind-up toy.
with parched, hot skin amongst skin - the sounds echoed against the limo, nearly sounding over the music that played in the background.
satoru’s watching as you plop straight back into him before you sprightly wriggle your hips in a seductive circle.
“my, ain’t you a naughty girl..” he tosses his head back in overwhelming rapture, feeling his dick twitch inside you as the sloppy sounds continue.
it was hard not to hear - if it was anything satoru knew about your pussy, he knew that it was always, always vocal with him..
you’re slamming back against his lap every time, squeezing your palms against the crowns of his knees with your body twirling and falling back into his inviting lap.
if you kept riding him like that, he’d really be head over heels.
“ugh- yeah, girl. ride it, ride this dick like it’s yours because it fuckin’ is,” satoru grunts, feeling your cunt tighten for a second at his exact words. “heh- did my messy girl like that? like hearin’ that ‘m yours, sweetheart?”
“mhm,” you’d nod with your lips clamped shut.
he’s just so big, stretching through your insides with such ease. the once slow and steady beats of your heart were now thump thump thumping!
satoru’s bulbous-shaped tip had a hooked upturning curve, and fuck did you feel every sloping curve as you bounced up ‘n down on his cock.
it’s so good that your mouth’s pathetically watering from the inside, and you’re already starting to feel that burning sensation electrify through your aching, stretched muscles.
“mngh- look at this body, s… so damn-” and he pauses, clenching his jaw at the sloppy wet feeling of your barriers bear-hugging around his cock.
you’re just working your hips like it’s a full-time job, throwing them around in a circle so fast that even satoru could barely keep up.
with thighs upon thighs upon thighs, your skin sticks against his like glue. a trail of colorless slick smears down satoru’s leg and he moans at the loud slaps of zealous, clapping skin.
you’re sticky still, and he’s moaning louder once the speed of your hips quickens.
“yeah? yeah, better- fuckin’-ride-me,” and even though his voice faintly cracks, satoru still manages a sort of poised, cocky persona.
multiple ‘encouraging’ swats hit against the cheeks of your ass and you’re whining, putting your all into the movements of your jerking body. satoru’s snowy brows contort before he gives your waist beads a soft tug.
“do it, fuck me, baby. ‘n while you’re at it..” and as you’re still moving your hips, you feel a bit of paper rain down your back that’s starting to perspire with sweat.
“fuck-” satoru grunts smokily, staring as hundred dollar bills fall down your bare spine. “forgot ‘ta give you your allowance, might as well give it to you now.”
“hngh- satoruuu,” you whined, his cock hitting its way through every spot. it french-kisses near your clit before passionately making out with your cervix.
it located both spots easily, and the feeling had your toes curling inside of your four-inch heels.
satoru ended up tossing those same bills down your back, staring as it prettily fell down your body before landing on his lap and the limo’s cottony carpet.
“ ‘m gonna cum i think,” you moaned, slowing your turning hips in hypnotic, carnal arcs. satoru’s hands were brought to your waist with two thumbs pressed at each side of your hips. “ ‘m cummin’ satoru.”
“me too, s.. sweets,” he swallows, hissing silently at the unsteady bucking of your bouncing ass.
your rear jiggled at each slamming thrust, ricocheting against his thighs and it was just so mesmerizing to watch.
satoru’s feeling the scorching tip of his cock grow hot, and he’s starting to feel all types of contractions arise within his muscles. “god- tell me where to tell me where.”
“inside,” you moaned, bringing your hands toward your chest to cup to bouncing tits. you squeezed them, smearing a thumb around your hardened nipples before making yourself even more aroused.
it’s just so much to process.
your rutting hips, the loud squelches of your pussy, satoru’s dick driving through you repeatedly.. oh, you were in a daze.
“f- fuuuuck. be a… hah- good girl ‘n take it all then.” he groans, elated euphoria swelling within him.
you stuck against his lap so good, slickly sliding your ass back before going forward, then back into his pelvis again.
your movements alone left such a good taste in his mouth, and once he feels himself about to burst - he fuckin’ bursts.
a massive load spurts out of satoru, shooting deeply into your fluttering womb as your hips come to a freezing still.
you’re cumming too - whimpering as you’re gushing down on his cock while being absolutely filled.
wads ‘n wads of milky, gooey cum floods inside of you, plugging you to the fullest. you’re both moaning lowly, rocking against each other in rushed unison before you arch forward.
your ass was fully bent over, and satoru stared openly as he was still shooting such deep, frothy amounts inside of you.
you looked so pretty like this that he couldn’t help but mentally take a picture, widely peering at the foamy droplets of cum that started to trickle their way down his overwhelmed base—creating a sparkling white ring.
it’s still as thick - still as veiny, and satoru makes you raise your hips ever-so-slightly.
doing so, he stares at your soddened pussy that’s lewdly spitting out a few heaps of cum before hearing that cute wet ‘plop!’
“fuckin’ dirty girl..” he huffs, one hand softly caressing your waist beads. he takes a glance at the ‘G.S.’ initials that were engraved near the back side of the many other charms, and he sighs.
right as you’re pulled up to where his creamy tip was juuuust about to slide away from your soused opening, satoru gives your stuffed pussy a soft pat.
“don’t know who’s dirtier…. herrrr,” he mumbles, swabbing a thumb around your cum-covered hole before bringing it up to his mouth.
with a wet smacking ‘ccht’ of satoru’s lips coming together—he licks his thumb clean, cooing silently at the taste of himself like the filthy, filthy man he was. “or you.”
♡ ♡ ♡
after many, many positions, you found yourself losing multiple rounds with your shallow breath as if even breathing was a mere contest. he’s had you in position after position, folding you like a freshly baked pretzel. it’s almost like the two of you weren’t literally in a limousine.
you hoped his chauffeur nanami didn’t hear. that would’ve been well, embarrassing.
the drive felt like forever.. but, you honestly didn’t want it.. this to end.
you’re a mess, stuffed to the uttermost fullest with ribbons of satoru’s freshly hot cum messily tearing down every slick crevice of your thighs.
currently, satoru had you in one of his favorite positions.
doggy.
part of the reason why he loved it so much was mainly because of the perfect, jiggling view.
your ass - he loved seeing how it would react from each rude smack, swatting his palm over and over again at your cute, tender skin. the pads of your hands pressed firmly into the limo’s seats as he’s just giving you the pound of a damn lifetime.
“mngh!” you’d whine out, drooling from the sides of your jittery, spit-slick lips that refused to stay shut.
he’s effortlessly reaching all the right areas, swiftly pumping his way past that cute taut ring of your entrance that he’s grown to love.
that brief tight stretch nearly makes him lose his mind, and satoru then brings his hands toward your waist. “right there, right fuckin’ th— mmph!”
“shhh, you’re gonna.. hah- miss the best part, sweets,” the white-haired man cups a hand over your mouth.
slow strokes - deeper thrusts..
your eyes rolled ‘n rolled back, gasping against his palm once he sneaks a hand in between your wet thighs. with your waist beads tickling against his wrist, satoru gives your pussy a soft smack.
your wetness ‘splashes’ against the center of his hand, and it even pops out a cute sound too.
“uuugh- ‘m gonna… cum agaiiin,” you’d raise your ass in the air just a bit more, your voice turning more whiny within seconds.
your words were still a bit muffled with his hand covering your mouth, but he still made out your whiny, inaudible words—just barely. .
the sounds of fierce, sharp hips brutally clashing against skin every time made him groan. it’s a booming resounding ‘pop!’ or ‘pap!’ noise every time that makes your entire body ring instead of just your ears.
his cock’s searching through your wet, gripping walls as if it had some sort of life purpose.
“hah- me t.. too, sweetheart,” and fuck, satoru’s drowning in his sweat. “phew-” satoru brings the back of his wrist to wipe some from his forehead. glancing down, he stares at your jouncing ass before giving you one, snappingly deep thrust.
“pussy’s a fuckin’ workout- oh shiiiiit.” and satoru’s feeling you clamp clamp clamp down on him, giving his dick the work of its life.
you could feel the individual staticky pulses of your clit signaling messages to you that you’re just so close and you’re nearly salivating inside of your mouth.
soooo good.. for a moment you forgot the two of you were still in the back of a limousine.
he’s fucking you so good that you could barely think straight.
satoru’s still playing with your pussy, giving it spanks in between his robust thrusts.
his rotund tip beat red, an oxblood blush of red as he continued to ram a heart-shaped sloppy kiss toward your clit.
at that moment, your legs cutely retreated and your chest collapsed forward. “feels s.. sooo good satoru, ngh- ‘toruuu!”
as your body spasmed at the onslaught of his reckless, sloppy thrusts - your hips were all the way raised against his lap.
you’re losing track of thoughts as you’re harshly creaming down his shaft, murmuring out cute little babbles of ‘ooohs’ once you feel his angle deepen.
satoru brings a hand down your fleshy back, staring at your skin that was wetly decorated with sweat while studying the goosebumps that ran down your spine.
“ ‘m gonna.. hah- cum,” he groans, a few stubby fingers thrumming down the gold waist beads that wrapped around your waist.
he brings his thumb toward the tiny ‘G.S.’ initials before pressing his honed-shaped pelvis wholly into you with just a single, barbaric thrust.
“all mine, my pretty… hah- wife.”
wife?
you heard that — you definitely heard it, but part of you wondered if maybe satoru was just overly pussy drunk as usual.
but the thought alone - the thought of actually being his wife of satoru gojo, your sugar daddy, didn’t seem too bad.
as the image of you walking down the aisle crossed your mind, your throbbing brought you straight back into orgasmic reality.
“wait.. hnng- pull out,” you’d moan, another idea popping into your head. instead of satoru usually finishing inside, you had a better idea.
“haah- ‘kay,” he pants, his snapping hips working overtime as they continually mercilessly plunge deep into your heated core.
his rhythm was far slower, but his thrusts were always in such a hurried frenzy.
he’s close - so so close.
you’re still covered with his cum from before from the legs down, and it paints such a pretty canvas on you.
a lewd, erotic canvas maybe..
quickly, satoru ends up pulling out with a hand wrapped around his cock that painfully throbbed. it scrunched up a bit at the sudden coldness, already missing your clingy warmth before you flip over.
“h.. hm?”
“ ‘toru, put ‘em between here.” you spoke in a hushed tone, sinking your knees into the limo’s velveteen-made seats.
he hungrily stares at you with nothing but lust surrounding the entirety of his rounded, dilated pupils. at your sweet, breathy word of ‘here,’ you brought two hands up to your breasts.
“naughty… temptress,” satoru clicks his tongue. aligning his swollen dick in between the crack of your sweat-dripping chest, it easily sliiiiiides its way through.
he watches intently as you squeeze your tits together, glancing up at him with those pretty, siren eyes of yours that were starting to droop.
“mmh,” and as his tip disappears between the slot of your chest, you hang your head down, flicking your tongue across the tender slit of his shaft.
“f- fuck, ‘m gonna cum. can’t- hold it anymore, sweets,” satoru groans, his words so guttural ‘n low that they sounded almost like a growl.
he knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer, not when you were on your knees—stuffing his dick right between your perked tits.
he’s sloppily starting to thrust his cock in and out between the valley of your breasts and felt himself throb at each cute jounce they created amongst each other.
so …. soft.
satoru’s achy tip was forming into an angry shade of bloodshot red, and the entirety of his shaft was smoldering from the stimulation. after a few long milliseconds though—he finds himself shooting white blanks again.
he’s fucking between your tits as you held them together, spraying a nice sum of his load onto your chest. you gasp, a bit landing on your lip and you lick it.
satoru’s moaning - no, grunting as he’s finishing against your breasts. he drags a shaky hand through his tousled, white hair before letting off a deep, heavy sigh.
“ohhh… fuck,” he grumbles, the tips of his ears burning a fiery pink.
his limp cock now remains idle, still buried between your tits before you slide your tongue across the leaking creamed tip.
it’s so glossy, dribbling from all sides with his pasty mess plastered on the upper part of your chest. “didn’t know i had.. such a dirty sweethe- fuck.”
satoru pauses for theatrics — holding his breath, thinking he was still cumming, but he wasn’t.
his mind was simply playing tricks, and his jaw clenched once you lapped up the remnants of bittersweet tasting cum that splattered on you. you used your thumb to reach the spots your tongue couldn’t, and once you were finished, satoru bent down to pull you into a fervent, deep kiss.
you moaned against his lips as the limousine still created miles upon miles. you lost track of time, but you’d guess it’s probably been well over an hour's drive.
“mng-” satoru grunts into your lips, feeling your arms wrap around him. he still had his button-up shirt on the entire time along with his suit just above his torso. he’s tasting himself on your lips, grunting once he felt your hand tug on his ruffled black tie.
your tongue was sticky, swirling a circular pattern around the inside of his mouth before you sucked on his.
satoru allowed you to make him get underneath you, and he felt your legs crawling on top of him.
as you’re both still deeply making out — fighting each other with sharp slaps of teeth smacking against each other, you gingerly pull away.
“i’m your wife now?”
“h.. hm?”
“earlier,” you lick near the corner of his lip. “you said ‘m your pretty wife.”
satoru gives you a sleazy lopsided grin. he looked so pussy drunk that he almost forgot about that tiny piece of dialogue that spouted from his lips.
“ah, i did call you my wife, didn’t i, sweets?” and as a thumb caresses around your cheek, he hoarsely whispers. “well, do you want to be?”
bringing a wet, torrid kiss toward his bottom crooked lip, you hummed. “i do.”
“wish you would’ve told me sooner though,” he sheepishly says, giving his tie a few meek pulls. “i could’ve proposed the right way but.. this is fine too, i gues-.”
“shhh-” you silence him with yet another barrage of kisses, cupping his face.
satoru grunts, hearing the little jangles of your waist brands yet again as your hips laboriously swayed against him.
your forehead is pressed against his and its hit with a bunch of sweat from satoru.
satoru moans from your ardent, vehement kisses, his lips being left all plump, reddened, and not to mention swollen all because of you.
his dick twitches—a prominent vein striking near the left side as you steadily moved your dripping pussy against it in slow, ravishing rocks. “lie back,” you whispered, playfully pushing him back against the seat.
satoru reclines back with a ‘hmph’ and he raises a silvery brow at your audacity. “lie back ‘n let your fiancé ride you again.”
“heh.. yes, mrs. gojo.”
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prokopetz · 16 hours ago
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With DND 5e being set up to cause DM burnout, can you give examples of tabletop systems that facilitate easy DMing? I love running a tabletop game but don't have the time to deal with 5e or homebrew anymore.
(With reference to this post here.)
This is an area where you're going to get a lot of bad advice, because there's no such thing as a tabletop RPG that's "easy to GM" in the abstract. Some systems make greater or lesser demands of the GM's time and skill, but the reason that Dungeons & Dragons has a massive GM burnout problem is a bit more subtle than that – indeed, D&D's GM burnout problem is considerably worse than that of many games whose procedures of play place much greater demands on the GM!
It boils down to the fact that games are opinionated. Even a very simple set of rules contains a vast number of baked-in assumptions about how the game ought to be played; in the case of tabletop RPGs, those baked-in assumptions include assumptions about what kinds of stories the game ought to be used to tell. The players of any given group, of course, also have assumptions – some explicit, many unexamined – about how the game's story ought to go. It's rare that these two sets of assumptions will perfectly agree.
Fortunately, perfect agreement isn't necessary, because tabletop RPGs aren't computer games, and it's always possible to tweak the outputs of the rules on the fly to better suit the desired narrative experience. In conventional one-GM-many-players games like D&D, this responsibility for monitoring and adjusting the outputs of the rules so that they're compatible with the narrative space the group wishes to explore falls principally on the GM.
Now, here's where the trouble starts: the larger the disconnect between the story the rules want to produce and the narrative space the group wants to explore, the more work the GM in a conventional one-GM-many-players context needs to do in order to close that gap. If the disconnect is large enough, the GM ends up spending practically all of their time babysitting the outputs of the rules, at the expense of literally every other facet of their responsibilities.
(Conversely, if that gap is large and isn't successfully closed, you can end up with a situation where engaging with the rules and engaging with the narrative become mutually exclusive activities. This is where we get daft ideas like "combat" and "roleplaying" being opposites – which is nonsense, of course, but it's persuasive nonsense if you've never experienced a game where the rules agree with you about what kind of story you should be telling.)
And here's where the problem with Dungeons & Dragons in particular arises. The rules of D&D aren't especially more opinionated than those of your average tabletop RPG; however, the game has developed a culture of play that's allergic to actually acknowledging this. There are several legs to this, including:
a text which makes claims about the game's supported modes of play that are far broader than what the rules in fact support;
a body of received wisdom about GMing best practices which consists mostly of advice on how to close the gap between the rules' assumptions and the players' expectations (but refuses to admit that this is what it's doing);
a player culture which has become increasingly hostile to players learning or knowing the rules, and positions any expectation that players should learn the rules as a form of "gatekeeping"; and
a propensity to treat a very high level of GMing skill as an entry-level expectation.
Taken together, all this produces a situation where, when the rules and the group disagree about how the game's story ought to go, the players don't experience it as a problem with the rules: they experience it as a problem with the GM. A lot of GMs even buy into this perception themselves, which is how you end up with GM advice forums overflowing with people telling novice GMs that they're morally bad people for being unprepared to tackle very advanced GMing challenges right from the jump.
(At this point, one may wonder: why on Earth would a game develop this sort of culture of play in the first place? Who benefits? Well, what we're looking at in practice is a culture of play which treats novice and casual GMs as a disposal resource whose purpose is to maximise the number of people playing Dungeons & Dragons. Follow the money!)
So, after all of that, the short answer is that there isn't a specific magic-bullet solution to avoiding D&D's GM burnout problem – or, at least, not one that operates at the level of the rules, because there's no particular thing that D&D as a system is doing "wrong" that produces this outcome; the problem operates almost entirely at the play culture level.
In practice, two things need to happen:
Placing a greater expectation on the players to learn and understand the game's rules; and
Selecting a system where the gap between the story the rules want to produce and the narrative space the group wants to explore is small.
It's that second one that's the real trick. In order to minimise that gap, we need to know what kind of narrative space your group wants to explore, and that might not be something you have a good answer to if you don't have good lines of communication with your players.
(As an aside, there's a good chance that we're going to see dipsticks cropping up in the notes insisting that their favourite system short-circuits this problem by being perfectly universal and having no baked-in narrative assumptions. These people are lying to you, and lending credence to the idea that there's any such thing as a universal RPG is a big part of how we got into this mess in the first place!)
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beloveds-embrace · 2 days ago
Text
(part two of here comes the sun: poly 141 x medic reader where you might as well be the sun to them)
Soap wasn’t subtle about it.
The moment he was cleared to leave the med tent, he started pushing. Hard, even if he knew there wouldn’t be much, actual opposition.
“Price,” he said, leaning against the captain’s desk like he wasn’t still healing. “John. We need her.”
Price didn’t even look up from his paperwork. “You need to sit down before you tear that wound open again.”
“I’m serious,” Soap insisted, gesturing wildly. “You saw her. She’s sharp, steady. Quick hands. Disnae panic under pressure. And-”
“And she’s not ours,” Price cut him off, finally looking up. “She’s stationed with another unit.”
“She could be ours,” Soap shot back, undeterred. “We need a medic. She’s the best one I’ve seen.”
Price gave him a long, measured look, and Soap could tell the captain was already considering it even before Soap burst into his office.
“She’s bright.” Price said after a beat, tone flat but amused, and sat back in his chair.
Soap grinned. “Aye. Easy ta spot.” What you, yourself, had said to him when he’d woken up in that tent. He kept going through that day again and again.
Price exhaled through his nose and reached for his phone, and Soap left feeling quite satisfied.
You arrived two weeks later.
The announcement was casual- just another personnel transfer- but the 141 treated it like the sun itself had walked into their orbit.
You stepped into the briefing room with the ease of someone who had faced fire and walked out the other side. Your bright gear stood out starkly against the muted greens and browns of the others, like a flare shot across a starless sky, and it reminded them so much of the day they had met you on that battlefield.
Gaz was the first to speak, offering a low whistle as he leaned back in his chair, offering you an easy smile. “Looks like it’s true. They really did send us the sun.”
You smiled at that, shoulders straight but relaxed, clearly used to the nickname by now. “I’ll try not to blind you, Sargeant.”
Soap’s eyes never left you. His grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and before he could think better of it, the words slipped out- low and rough like an ember still burning.
“Doubtful.”
You blinked, turning to him, but he quickly looked away and scratched at the back of his neck like it hadn’t meant anything. It did, though, and he knew everyone in the room had caught it.
“Well,” Price finally said, breaking the moment. “Welcome to the task force, medic. Let’s hope you live up to your reputation.”
You raised an eyebrow, that sharpness returning to your gaze as you stood a little straighter. “I don’t plan on letting you down, sir.”
Soap’s heart stumbled. That steady confidence- it was the same tone you’d used when you’d saved his life, the same fire he’d seen in your eyes as you’d pulled him back from the edge.
Here comes the sun, he thought again, and this time it didn’t feel like an omen.
It felt like a promise.
And now, you fit into the 141 like you’d always been there.
It didn’t happen all at once- trust like theirs was hard-earned, built in layers of sweat, blood, and battlefield grit. But it started quickly enough.
Price made it clear from day one. He didn’t just treat you as part of the team; he expected it. No fanfare, no hesitation. “You’re one of us now,” he said after your first successful op, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t forget it.”
Gaz took to you next, easy and natural. He lingered near you during drills, cracking jokes and testing your reflexes like it was a game. “Just making sure the sun doesn’t burn out,” he’d tease with a grin. But the way he always had your back in the field- never too far, always watching- spoke louder than words.
Soap made it impossible to keep your guard up, of course. He pulled you into conversations before you even realized it, throwing compliments and nicknames around like confetti with an easy grin. “The sun’s shining bright today,” he’d say whenever you joined a room, all charm and laughter. It was easy to laugh with him, easier still to trust him when things got serious.
Ghost was different. Quiet. Watchful. You never caught him outright staring, but you felt his presence. He didn’t say much at first- just short nods and simple instructions during missions. But then there were the small things. The way he passed you ammo without being asked. The way he moved closer during tense moments, his silence as steadying as any words.
And when he finally spoke up, it was never casual. “Good work,” he told you after a long, brutal mission. It wasn’t much, but it felt like everything.
You learned to move with them like clockwork. They learned to rely on you the same way. Missions came and went, and somewhere in between the chaos and quiet, you stopped feeling like the new addition and started feeling like home.
It wasn’t the colors of your gear that made you stand out anymore. It was the way you fit beside them- bright and steady, a fixed point in their orbit.
Soap caught himself watching you more often than he should’ve.
It wasn’t just the colors, though they still hit him first- those impossible reds and oranges that stood out like fire on a battlefield. They reminded him of sunrise after too many nights spent in the dark, of flames warding off the cold, and he didn’t think there’d come a day where the colors don’t surprise him. But it wasn’t just that.
It was the way you moved.
Steady. Deliberate. Like hesitation wasn’t in your vocabulary. You worked with purpose, not a single wasted motion, and it drew his eye every damn time. You stood out in ways that had nothing to do with the bright gear- like light breaking through fog, cutting through smoke and haze to reveal solid ground.
And he wasn’t the only one who saw it.
Price started calling you their beacon during briefings. At first, it had sounded like a joke, a casual nod to the nickname you’d earned, but it simply stuck.
“We follow the sun,” Price said once, tone half-serious, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “And if we lose track of her, we’re done for.”
Soap had laughed along with the others, but the words lingered.
Gaz, for his part, never made any effort to hide how much he liked having you around. He hovered close more often than not, easy-going and quick with compliments.
“It’s just the colors,” he’d insist whenever someone called him out for it. “You’re hard to miss.”
But Soap caught the way Gaz’s tone softened when he said it, like maybe it wasn’t just the colors after all.
Ghost… Ghost was different.
He didn’t flirt, didn’t tease- not like the others. But Soap had spent enough time with him to notice the shift. The slight tilt of his head whenever you spoke. The way his shoulders relaxed when you were in the room. The rare moments he let you touch him, patching up a wound or tightening a bandage, as if he trusted you without question.
Soap had nearly choked when he’d caught Ghost staring once, lingering too long while you tied off a suture on his arm. For all his jokes about Ghost being unflappable, even Soap couldn’t ignore the look he’d seen- the way Ghost had leaned just slightly into your touch, like he’d never wanted to leave it.
And Soap?
Soap was a mess.
Because no matter how much the others admired you- how much they trusted you, relied on you- he’d seen you first.
He’d been the one bleeding out in the dirt, thinking his time was up. He’d been the one who saw you cut through the smoke and fire like something out of a dream. And that fact burned in his chest like an ember that refused to go out.
Sometimes, he thought about what might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there. If you hadn’t run straight into hell to get to him. But those thoughts never lasted long- because all he had to do was look at you to remind himself that you had been there.
You’d saved him. And now, every time he saw you, with those bright colors and steady hands, it hit him all over again.
Here comes the sun, he thought.
And this time, he didn’t want to look away.
It was late one evening when it happened again.
The mission had gone south- not as badly as last time, but bad enough. They’d made it out, but Gaz had taken a hit, and comms had failed halfway through.
By the time they stumbled back to the evac point, Soap was covered in dirt and sweat, exhaustion weighing heavy in his limbs. But then-
You.
You came running, gear catching the fading light, colors flaring like fire in the dusk.
Soap’s breath hitched.
Here comes the sun.
He couldn’t stop thinking it. It looped through his head like a mantra as you fell to your knees beside Gaz, hands already moving, voice low and steady as you worked. The others lingered nearby, hovering but trying not to get in your way.
Soap stood frozen, watching.
Watching you save another life, same as you’d saved his.
It was Ghost who spoke first, breaking the silence. “Told you,” he murmured. “Sun’s hard to miss.”
Gaz let out a weak chuckle, though his voice was tight with pain. “Yeah… can’t look away, can you?”
Price didn’t say anything, but his expression was clear enough. Relief. Trust.
And Soap- Soap felt it more than ever.
The sun. Warmth in the cold. Fire in the dark.
He knew now, without a doubt, that they’d follow you anywhere.
(You’d never lead them wrong.)
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queeniewithabeanie · 2 days ago
Text
The Great Great Grandmother
Dpxdc Prompt #3
In the Wayne household it was well-known that Alfred Pennyworth's word was law. It was much less well-known the circumstances that their beloved butler had grown up it. Alfred was raised by his paternal grandmother, Danielle "Elle" Pennyworth, née Fenton.
While Danny's obsession with protection led him to stay in Amity Park until every tie he had to the place joined him in the Ghost Zone, Dani's obsession with freedom led her to do anything but stay in the same place.
She moved all over Earth, then to space, then to the realms, and finally to other dimensions. When Dani found herself stuck in a dimension very similar to her own, except a couple hundred years in the past, she knew Clockwork had something to do with it. She wanted to curse him out, her obsession was freedom and Dani did not do well caged.
It turned out to not matter too much because after a year or so trapped in the dimension Dani found herself going by the name Elle Pennyworth with a baby boy on the way.
Time flew by fast and her husband had died, content enough with his life that he didn't leave behind a ghost. Elle was heartbroken, but knew a peaceful death was what he wanted.
Her son had a son himself, Alfred was his name. Elle promised herself she would be the best grandmother she could be. That turned out to be a promise she had to fulfill sooner rather than later.
Her son and his wife had died only a couple of years after baby Alfred was born, disease apparently. It didn't take her long to notice that little Freddie had taken after her more ghostly half.
He was always appearing in places he wasn't supposed to and he was far more empathetic than most any human she had ever met. Elle taught him to control his more inhuman aspects and made sure that he would never forget etiquette.
"Being able to know how people are feeling is easy for those like us," she would tell him, "but knowing how to help those that aren't feeling well whether it be physical, mental, or emotional that's difficult."
"Why do we help them then?" Little Freddie would ask, before he knew the words she had spoken by heart and the answer to his own question was carved into his soul.
"Because difficult means there's something you're fighting for, and helping means that you care."
Alfred would repeat those same words to little Brucie when he was little and to all of his many many children. He would give a small smile as he said it, Granny Elle would love to know how much her great great grandchildren took after her brother.
He couldn't wait for Granny Elle and Great Uncle Danny to meet his many grandchildren. It would be a bit awkward to explain how they both still looked like they were in their teens though. Alfred only kept up the illusion of aging because he hadn't found a good time to tell his family he wasn't as human as they thought.
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seahorseduh · 2 days ago
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I DID IT. I GOT INTO THE VOID STATE AND MANIFESTED EVERYTHING I WANTED. IM CRYING
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
EDIT: some people were confused about the singaporean language, i just scripted it was real in my new reality its like arabic/hebrew but with a different alphabet
here is the singaporean alphabet:
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(credit)
and the country i made called tianmo is actually called neovia in english, i made a google document about it you can find HERE :)
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
i manifested bringing my phone with me into my new reality, so this is how im communicating. im gonna be leaving tumblr now to live my dream life, ill probably reblog stuff and like things every now and then. i was using the distraction method and idk how to describe it i was just in the void, heres everything i manifested!!!
HERE IS THE DISTRACTION METHOD!!!! ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
being able to shift, manifest or go into the void on command
can’t get bullied
desired family (im in the dunphy family from modern family)
moving to tianmo (a country i made before manifesting)
extremely rich
i’m 13 again
i speak mandarin, korean, singaporean, french, german, spanish, thai, welsh, japanese and russian on a native level. Im so good at these languages i can type 200 wpm in each and i know more than most native adults! I cannot forget languages and i will keep them for the rest of my life. Nobody at school knows i know other languages yet.
living my dream life
me and family always safe and healthy
im in a lot of movies
df and db
always healthy
love school and popular 
i’m everyone’s type and i get along with everyone, i have no enemies. 
cousins with celebs
i mog every model
my city has amazing public transit and a metro
i embody the blue junimocore aesthetic
i always smell like gingerbread in winter, tropical in summer
famous grandparents
i have an extremely high spice and pain tolerance 
i always have proof that im related to famous people and people believe me
there’s usually thunderstorms at night
Im the most attractive person in the school
No matter where we travel, me or my family is always protected and safe. Nothing bad can happen to us. We cant die until we are old. I cant die unless i want to and it will be peaceful, i will barely age. My family is and me are free from any disease including age related ones and cannot get severely injured. We will live happy long lives. We can never get in any danger no matter what time it is or where we are.
I can never get hate online or in real life
I can do anything on roblox and not get banned, exploits and anything
I have a huge close friend group where nobody is left out 
I always have amazing and perfect grades, ive had amazing grades my whole life.
On my notion, i have a script for everything and theres an ai that helps me find the one.
Im a master shifter and manifestor. I can spawn things. I always get into the void state and shift if i affirm 3 times
i have an amazing bff with a 679 day streak on snapchat
I dont wear glasses and have amazing vision 
popular at school
i find skincare relaxing and fun, i have all the best korean skincare products
i look amazing in every picture, im videogenic and photogenic
i take the tram to school 
my country has the best high speed rail in the world
Good grades
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demilypyro · 17 hours ago
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I'm interested in the gradual development of Miss Pauling.
Originally an almost incidental character in the Team Fortress 2 comics alone, no official model existed for Miss Pauling for the longest time. Her first appearance was in the WAR comic from 2009, two years after the game's release. She is mentioned by name, but you can tell her character isn't nailed down here yet. They probably aren't even sure if they're going to reuse her at this point. The Administrator herself isn't even fully developed yet.
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Despite the tangential nature of her character, she made regular appearances in the TF2 comics, always executing the Administrator's will, though not much was really established about her personality or characteristics beyond being hardworking, extremely competent, and very loyal.
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Around this time, the fans started making their own models to use her in fanworks, though with not much to go on in regards to her personality, there weren't many people taking an interest in her. The few times she did appear in fanworks, she was often relegated to just being the token girl character.
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In 2013, Valve released Ring of Fired, the first of seven full-length Team Fortress 2 comics that would end up being the main source of character development and plot progression for the universe. And Miss Pauling was there as one of the lead characters, although her characterisation was still rather thin in this first issue.
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The big moment here is the Love and War update. In 2014, seven years after the game's launch, the short film Expiration Date was released, the 15 minute video supposedly being a pilot for a potential TF2 tv show. That tv show never happened. However, Miss Pauling was one of the lead characters of the video. It finally gave Miss Pauling an official 3D model, which was notably somewhat different looking from her comic appearances up to this point, as well as a canonical voice.
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It also established several defining traits to her character: she was extremely neurotic, kind of awkward, a bit silly, and she had a knack for gallows humor. These traits were heightened with the following Gun Mettle and Jungle Inferno updates, which gave her a bunch of voice lines where she talked to the player characters and let her kookier side show.
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These traits would make it back into her characterisation in the comics going forward, finally reaching Maximum Pauling. She became the true Main Character of the TF2 comics, usually being the main perspective character, as well as being the character with the heaviest choices to make as the plot reaches its climax.
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While Miss Pauling still to this day doesn't physically appear in the Team Fortress 2 videogame, she has become one of the most important characters of its surrounding universe, and you'd be hard pressed to find a fan who doesn't really like her. It's been fun to watch her develop from an incidental lore character to the unofficial tenth member of the main cast. I'm a huge fan of her.
Okay end of post
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molsno · 3 days ago
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the eggiest person you've ever seen in your life: I've always found women to be so beautiful, yet so distant from me at the same time. when I think about the fact that I can never be one of them, it causes me unspeakable pain. I feel a deep connection with them, but because I'm male, which is out of my control, there will forever be a chasm between us which I can never cross. all I can do is masturbate to them, as it is all I know, but even this doesn't bring me joy, and only makes me feel more disgusted with myself.
tme people in the comments with "terfs dni" in bio: awwww this reminds me of my boyfriend!! he's so cute when he says stuff like this! he always cries when we have sex, but it's ok because I know being with a real woman like me makes him so happy 😊
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chaostudee · 2 days ago
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please please please, charles leclerc
summary : "please please please don't prove them right" charles leclerc has been labelled as a noterious playboy so when popstar starts y/n y/ln starts dating him she puts him in his place. warnings : language, suggestive content, hate comments. a/n : i acc have so much unfinished works in my drafts rnnn
y/nusername n1 in sydney.
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liked by taylorswift, gracieabrams, tyla, and 4,628,925 others.
user72 ugh i love her so bad
username13 taylor liking is crazyy like she has been y/n's idol for years
user99 so so proud about how far she has come stopp i could cry
username222 sold out show in melbourne WHAT
fangirl truly the best night of my life (not an exaggeration i fear)
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
y/nusername 48 hours in australia next to miami !!
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》 TAYLOR MF SWIFT Y/N WHAT
》 cutest dump ever stfu
》 screamingggg
》 stopp she looks so happy let me sob 😭😭
》 confirmed she loves us aussies 🇦🇺
》 the dress was *chef kisses*
》 storytime rnnnn
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
charlesleclerc miami prep 💪
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liked by landonorris, carlossainz, scuderiaferrari, and 1,992,451 others.
user23 oh damn.
username788 holy shit i just woke up
f1fan oml
user00 i'm so jealous of any girl he has ever been with
user23 my dreams are just dreams 😫
f1lover podium plssss
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
y/nusername guess where i am hehe
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》 miami gp !!
》 is that charles's car i see 👀
》 "everybody is a ferrari fan"
》 y/n and f1 i'm here for it
》 oh great another influencer being invited to an f1 race
》 oh yessss
》 f1 omggg queen i love youuuu
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
y/nusername a little pit stop before my show tonight ;)
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liked by charlesleclerc, taylorswift, sadiesink and 2,728,667 others.
sadiesink ugh i had the best time
f1fan i'm not okay y/n and f1 MY TWO WORLDS COLLIDING
user13 im shooketh
username22 omg sadie and y/n together again i love them smmm
f1lover OMG GUYS WHAT IF SHE WAS THERE FOR CHARLES
user72 this is too insane....but he did like her post so maybeee user23 omgg and on the podium he did wink at someone maybe it was her?!?! f1girl okay not to alarm anyone but i did see him walk into the paddock with y/n 🤭 user23 OMFG ACC
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
charlesleclerc miami the city that keeps the roof blazing
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liked by y/nusername, carlossainz, taylorswift and 4,729,901 others.
user23 i love charlos so bad pls never seperate them
f1fan oh girl....
user52 yesss charles back on the podium again
f1girl yesss the caption miami by will smith on toppp
f1lover are u dating y/n???
user626 yesss give the people what they want
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
y/nusername miami you were amazing 💋
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liked by taylorswift, charlesleclerc, chappellroan and 3,791,551 others.
user72 mommy
username90 we need the makeup routine rnn
fangirl the pose tonight was crazyyy
user52 omggg i was with my mum fangirl stoppp i would die
user00 her tour fits always eat so bad
f1fan in a perfect universe this would be my life
user22 okayyy what if charles was there?!?
f1lover y/n plsss come to monaco
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
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༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
hotones video with y/n out now !!
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liked by y/nusername, tyla, charlesleclerc and 426,829 others.
y/nusername I TOLD YOU TO CUT THAT PART OMG GOING TO GO KMS
user627 oop
username22 i mean she has a chance so she might as well shoot her shot
f1fan not charles in the likes this is so messy
user72 oh to have her confidence
username78 omggg she is such a legend for this
f1girl this interview was so good omggg
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
charlesleclerc the best weekend of my life
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liked by carlossainz, y/nusername, landonorris and 6,916,411 others.
y/nusername 💗
user62 girl f1fan wait was she there?? user62 nope
carlossainz finally
user562 i actually shed like real tears
f1girl so so proud
user90 im a new fan but this was emotional for me
username82 i hope he knows that we are all so happy for him
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
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༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
messages between taylor and y/n
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༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
y/nusername please please please out now hope you enjoy 🤭🫣
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liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, taylorswift and 7,291,081 others.
user72 NOW THIS IS A HARD LAUNCH
username90 i died dead
f1fan fuck idek who i want to be more
taylorswift omggg i'm so shocked i defo didn't know about this for months
y/nusername 😭😭 plsss ily
user62 THE MV WAS SO GODDAMN HOT THE WAY HE WAS LOOKING AT HER OMLLL
f1girl this is just so perfect
user90 i fear im in a state of shock rn
user52 im not even phased cause i saw it coming
landonorris can i plss be in a mv next plssss
user62 helpppp
username11 y/n my queen
taglist⭑.ᐟ
@lottalove4evelyn @sweetestgirlintown111 @mxryxmfooty @hadidsworld @llando4norris @heavy-vettel @love2readd @depressedriches @nichmeddar @seonghwaexile
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tender-rosiey · 2 days ago
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What about sukuna with his shy babygirl when reader goes away for a week and hes left alone to take care of her?
I ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOUR SUKUNA WITH HIS SHY BABYY
silence speaks — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: my favorite duo ever and this is really centered around them cuz they so cute but you do make multiple appearances also BIGGGGGG thanks to @bluebell33 for beta-reading <33
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sukuna rarely concerns himself with trifles. the great and feared king of curses has no patience for the mundane.
yet, when it comes to his daughter—his little, bashful shadow—he finds himself tackling challenges he never imagined, especially now that you’ve gone to visit your ill mother for the week.
and left him alone with her.
you had reassured him it would be fine, and he had sneered at the implication that he couldn’t manage a child for a mere seven days.
but now he finds himself cursing you as he stares down the wide-eyed girl standing in the middle of the courtyard.
she’s clutching her favorite stuffed fox, her tiny fingers squeezing the fabric tightly as if it’s her only anchor in the world.
her big eyes flit up to him and then dart away just as quickly, cheeks pinkening as she retreats into herself, the same way she always does when the world feels too big.
sukuna huffs, scratching the back of his head. “what?” he grumbles, his voice rough, but she doesn’t flinch.
not anymore. she’s long since grown used to his tone, his presence, his towering frame. still, she doesn’t answer, only fiddles with the hem of her little kimono.
he exhales sharply through his nose. “if you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”
her lips purse into a small pout, and her voice comes out barely above a whisper. “...hungry.”
of course.
sukuna crosses his arms, his four hands resting against his broad chest as he glances toward the kitchen.
he knows how to prepare a meal in theory—he’s watched you do it countless times—but actually doing it? for her?
“fine. sit,” he commands, gesturing toward the veranda.
she shuffles over without a word, sitting cross-legged with her fox in her lap, her gaze following his every movement like he’s some kind of unapproachable deity—which, to most, he is.
the kitchen is uncomfortably quiet without you bustling about in it.
sukuna’s hands work awkwardly, chopping vegetables with precision but lacking the rhythm you make it look so easy to achieve.
he scowls as he tastes the broth, finding it bland despite his efforts. still, he’s not about to admit defeat.
when he finally places the bowl in front of her, she looks up at him with wide, unsure eyes. “you made it?”
“who else, brat?” he snaps, though there’s no real bite to his words. he sits down beside her, his knee brushing against her tiny one as he watches her cautiously take a sip.
her lips curve into a small smile, and her voice is soft but earnest. “it’s good.”
he grunts, looking away to hide the faint twitch of his own mouth. “damn right it is.”
the next day, sukuna finds himself in the garden, sitting on the terrace with his arms crossed, watching his daughter as she toddles around, her fox clutched tightly to her chest.
she sticks close to him, circling the area but never straying far, her wariness of the world evident in her every hesitant step.
she pauses by the small patch of wildflowers, her tiny hand reaching out to pluck a bloom.
with the flower in her grasp, she shuffles over to him, her gaze flickering between the flower and her father’s intimidating figure.
“what’s that?” he asks flatly, raising a brow as she stops just short of his shadow.
“for...you,” she mumbles, her voice so soft he almost misses it.
sukuna narrows his eyes, leaning back against the wooden pillar as he watches her extend the flower toward him with trembling hands.
“what the hell am I supposed to do with that?” he scoffs, though his voice carries no malice.
her lips press into a nervous line, and she steps closer, holding it out insistently.
her little brow furrows in determination, and for a moment, she looks so much like you that it pulls a rare flicker of amusement from him.
he grunts, snatching the flower between two of his massive fingers as if it’s an inconvenience.
he twirls it once before tossing it onto the porch beside him, his crimson eyes meeting hers. “now what?”
she fidgets, her gaze darting to the ground. “it’s...pretty,” she whispers.
he leans back further, waving her off. “get out of here before you start thinking I’ll entertain you all day.”
she scurries off, her fox in one hand and her quiet laughter trailing behind her. sukuna glances at the discarded flower, its petals soft and vibrant against the wooden boards.
with a grunt, he flicks it off the edge with his finger, muttering under his breath. “ridiculous.”
the days that follow are...strange.
sukuna quickly realizes that his daughter is quiet by nature—content to play alone, to sit with her little fox and hum softly to herself.
she doesn’t demand his attention often, which leaves him both relieved and unsettled.
he’s used to people begging for his time, his favor, his mercy.
but she? she seems perfectly content with the simplest gestures—a pat on the head, a rare smile, his presence alone.
it’s on the third day, however, that she tests his patience.
the rain starts in the afternoon, a light drizzle that quickly turns into a downpour. sukuna is inside, reviewing a scroll, when he hears it—a soft, hiccuping sob from the other room.
he’s on his feet instantly, his massive frame filling the doorway as he finds her curled up in the corner, her fox clutched to her chest, her face buried in its fur.
“what the hell are you crying about?” he asks.
she sniffles, peeking up at him with tear-streaked cheeks. “it’s...loud,” she mumbles, her voice trembling.
it takes him a moment to realize she means the thunder.
he sighs, running a hand down his face before crouching down in front of her. “you’re afraid of a little noise?”
she nods hesitantly, her bottom lip quivering.
“pathetic.”
but instead of leaving her to deal with it alone, he picks her up, her tiny body fitting easily against his broad chest as he carries her to the main room.
he sits down on the tatami mat, cradling her against him as the storm rages outside.
she buries her face in his chest, her small hands clutching at his robes, and for once, he doesn’t push her away.
“you’re fine,” he mutters, his hand smoothing over her hair in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture. “it’s just noise. nothing can hurt you while I’m here.”
and somehow, she believes him.
by the time the week is up, sukuna is more than ready for you to return.
he won’t admit it, of course, but the sight of you walking through the gate fills him with an odd sense of relief.
your daughter, however, is the one who reacts most visibly.
“mama!” she cries, scrambling out of sukuna’s lap and running to you.
you scoop her up, laughing as she babbles about everything that’s happened in your absence, her words tumbling over each other in her excitement.
sukuna watches from the doorway, his arms crossed as he leans against the frame.
“well?” you tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “how’d it go?”
“she’s alive, isn’t she?”
you laugh, stepping closer as you shift your daughter in your arms. your free hand brushes against his arm, a small, fleeting gesture that he doesn’t pull away from.
“she is,” you reply softly, tilting your head as you study his expression.
he’s looking past you now, crimson eyes sharp but distant, his gaze lingering on the garden beyond the estate gates.
it’s quiet for a beat too long, the weight of something unsaid hanging between you.
“did you miss me?” you ask, your voice light and teasing, but there’s a genuine curiosity beneath it.
he scoffs, his lips curling into something that’s not quite a smirk.
“don’t flatter yourself,” he mutters, but he turns his back to you, and you can’t help but feel it’s to hide a specific thing.
you smile knowingly, shifting your daughter higher on your hip as she snuggles into you, her fox tucked safely in her arms. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or I will make you drink pure ginger
check out my buy me a coffee!
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angelseraphines · 2 days ago
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ೃ⁀➷ gods and monsters ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱
╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x wife!reader imagine
a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!
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˚ ༘♡ you cherished your husband, your family, and the life you had created together. hwang in-ho was a man of contradictions, capable of immense love and devotion. he treated you with such care, as though you were the most precious thing in his world. his adoration was tangible in every gesture, every lingering glance. yet beneath that tenderness was a darkness you struggled to reconcile. this same man, who held your hand with precious affection, was also the masked overseer of the squid game, a series of merciless challenges where the desperate competed, often at the cost of their lives, for a staggering cash prize.
˚ ༘♡ you could never truly fathom it. the man who pressed sweet kisses to your forehead at night was the same monster who orchestrated a spectacle of death and suffering. he claimed no pleasure in it, but the mere fact of his involvement unsettled you. the gleaming black mask, the command he held over every horrific detail, it was a world so far removed from the comfort of your home, yet it belonged to him all the same.
˚ ༘♡ only once had he asked if you wished to attend, to see what he called “his other life.” the question had terrified you to your core, your lips parting in silent dismay. you hadn’t needed to answer. the way your expression shifted, the way fright and disapproval glared across your pallid face, was enough. he never brought it up again, never risked shattering the fragile balance he had created between his two identities.
˚ ༘♡ you were a mother to a healthy three-year-old son, who filled your days with laughter and energy, and you were carrying another child, though you had yet to tell your husband. the news remained a quiet secret, one you turned over in your mind during the solitude of the evening. it wasn’t fear of his reaction that kept you silent. hwang in-ho adored his family, there was no question of that, but the thought of bringing another life into the shadow of the games unsettled you.
˚ ༘♡ you tried to focus on being the woman you wanted to be, a loving mother, a supportive partner. in many ways, you succeeded. you tucked your son in every night with whispered stories and soft lullabies, kept your home warm and welcoming, and met your husband’s gaze with as much love as you could muster, even when doubts crept into the corners of your mind.
˚ ༘♡ when your worries became too much to bear, he would sense it, always. he would take your hands in his, his voice calm, his tone measured. “think of me as two men,” he would say, his words a plea for understanding. “there is hwang in-ho, your husband, your partner, the father of our children. and then there is the front man, a role i play, a mask i wear.”
˚ ༘♡ you wanted to believe him, to hold on to the idea that the man who kissed you tenderly each morning could be separate from the one who orchestrated so much pain. but no matter how you tried to comprehend it, there were nights when the thought of who he was beyond your shared walls kept you awake, your heart aching with questions you couldn’t bring yourself to ask.
˚ ༘♡ you tried with all your might to separate the two sides of the man you loved, the front man and your husband, hwang in-ho. but when he told you he wouldn’t be able to contact you during this year’s games, the delicate balance you had worked so hard to maintain crumbled. the weight of his words refused to settle, tearing at you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to simply let it go.
˚ ༘♡ “every year, you’ve managed to visit after the game for the day. what’s different this time?” you asked, your voice trembling with desperation.
˚ ༘♡ at first, he deflected, his tone dismissive as if your concerns were unwarranted. but as your worry grew, it became impossible for him to ignore. the strain in your expression, the way your voice cracked when you spoke, it was enough to wear him down. even your son had begun to notice, his small hands tugging at your sleeve, his innocent eyes filled with confusion at the tension that filled the air.
˚ ༘♡ with a frustrated sigh, in-ho finally relented. his hand enveloped yours, warm and steady against your trembling fingers. “i will be there this year,” he admitted, his voice hushed and measured. “as a player.”
˚ ༘♡ the words sent a chill through you, and your breath caught in your throat. “what? why?” you asked, your disbelief slicing through the tension.
˚ ༘♡ his gaze locked onto yours. “there is someone returning to the games this year,” he began, his tone careful. “a former player, a winner in fact. he’s likely to cause complications, and… i can’t deny the intrigue of watching him. this year will be different. i’ve decided to stay close by instead of observing from a distance.”
˚ ༘♡ fury and agony surged within you, and your hands shook as you lightly struck his chest, the beating driven by hysteria. “you idiot!” you yelled. “you can’t guarantee you’ll be safe! have you even thought about your family? what about our son?”
˚ ༘♡ he caught your wrist gently, his grip cautious, his face softening as he pulled you closer. “i will not be in danger,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “i promise you that.”
˚ ༘♡ still, his assurance wasn’t enough. it didn’t stop the knot in your stomach from tightening or the ache in your chest from growing far more intense. the words you spoke next tumbled out before you had a chance to think them through. “if that’s true, then you won’t have any problem with me coming along!”
˚ ༘♡ the declaration hung in the air, sharp and sudden. even you were startled by it, your heart pounding in your chest as the misery of your demand settled between you. fear and anger had driven you to say it, but now it was too late to take it back. you searched his face for a reaction, your pulse racing.
˚ ༘♡ “don’t speak such nonsense again," he said firmly, his tone cutting through the tension in the room. "you have our son to think about. i am going, and i’ll return in a week. this is final."
˚ ༘♡ “no!” you shot back, the tremor in your voice betraying your growing panic. “if you’re going, then i’m coming with you. you told me it’s safe.” your eyes darted toward your son, who had long fallen asleep, blissfully unaware of the battle unfolding. a wave of guilt swept over you, tightening your throat. “he can stay with the household staff for a week. do you think i could take care of him properly while i’m sick with worry about you?”
˚ ༘♡ his brow furrowed, the sharp lines of irritation creasing his weary face. “you’re being unreasonable,” he said, his voice hard, though it faltered slightly as he began pacing the room. each step was measured, purposeful, as though he were trying to walk away from the argument itself. “this is dangerous enough without you there complicating things.”
˚ ༘♡ “and you’re being infuriating,” you countered, your tone rising as desperation overtook your earlier composure. “do you think I’d forgive myself if something happened to you while i stayed here and did nothing? you’re asking too much of me.” your voice cracked, the weight of your despair spilling into the room.
˚ ༘♡ the argument carried on into the late hour, a nightmare of clashing scorn and unresolved fears. he tried to dismiss you, to shut you down with reason, but you refused to back down. your agony, raw and untamed, eventually drove you to the brink. “if you go without me, i’ll leave,” you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “i’ll take our son, and i’ll leave.”
˚ ༘♡ the silence that followed was deafening. he froze, his gaze snapping to yours, searching your face for the truth. you hated the lie, the hollowness of your own threat, but it was all you had left. leaving him wasn’t something you could ever do, but the thought of him walking into danger alone was unbearable.
˚ ༘♡ he exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging under the burden of his dilemma. “fine,” he said at last, his voice clipped and low. “if you’re coming, then there are conditions… rules that have to be carefully followed.”
˚ ༘♡ your relief was immediate but short-lived as his words settled over you like a heavy cloak. “what conditions?” you asked, your voice softer now, cautious.
˚ ༘♡ “we’ll need to use false identities," he explained, his tone deliberate, each word chosen with care. "to everyone involved, we’re strangers. no one can know who we are, not even that we’re connected."
˚ ༘♡ the practicality of his demand sent a shiver down your spine, even as you nodded in agreement. the idea of pretending he was nothing more than a stranger felt unnatural, wrong, but you couldn’t argue. “i understand,” you murmured, though the knot in your stomach tightened with every passing second.
˚ ༘♡ he didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you as though considering whether you truly grasped what you were stepping into. when he finally looked away, you felt no sense of victory, only the forthcoming horror of what lay ahead.
˚ ༘♡ the games were set to begin in exactly one week, and each passing day left you feeling more unsettled. every time your husband pulled you into his arms, the unease lingered beneath the surface, making it difficult to fully surrender to his warmth. though you tried to find comfort in his presence, the thought of what lay ahead clouded every shared moment.
˚ ༘♡ you had entrusted your son to the most reliable and loyal members of the household staff, ensuring that he would be cared for in your absence. you also took great care to conceal any sign of your pregnancy. if in-ho discovered the truth, he would never allow you to join him, and staying behind was not an option you could accept.
˚ ༘♡ he had laid out the plan with meticulous precision. the two of you would arrive after the chaos of the first game, red light, green light. as he explained it, a large portion of the participants would undoubtedly be eliminated once they grasped the deadly reality of the games. the aftermath of that horror would provide cover for your entrance, allowing you to integrate without raising suspicion.
˚ ༘♡ your husband would take on the identity of player 001, an unassuming participant with no visible ties to you. your alias would be player 077, your stories carefully crafted to fit the narrative. his fabricated reason for joining the games was both haunting and ironic, he claimed he needed money for his pregnant wife. when he first told you this, a wave of panic washed over you, thinking he might have discovered your secret. but as you studied his expression, his calm demeanor revealed no hint of realization.
˚ ༘♡ for your feigned story, he decided you would play the role of a young woman drowning in debt, struggling to pay off the burdens left behind by your late father. the lie felt strangely fitting, yet it unsettled you all the same. every detail he crafted for your cover seemed so calculated, so detached, it was as though he had rehearsed this for far longer than he let on. this game of life and death was nothing more than a facade for him.
˚ ༘♡ you nodded along as he explained the plan, his voice unwavering. though the words were spoken with care, they failed to soothe the growing tension within you. each step of the plan felt cold, clinical, designed to strip away any sense of the life you shared outside these games. with every passing day, the distance between hwang in-ho, your husband, and the front man became more glaring, and you wondered if you could truly separate the two when it mattered most.
˚ ༘♡ you knelt by your son’s bedside, planting a soft kiss against his forehead. his small hand clung to your finger, and for a vanishing moment, you felt the crushing weight of guilt threaten to undo you. you whispered promises you weren’t sure you could keep, telling him you would be back soon, that everything would be fine. as his breathing slowed in sleep, you lingered a minute longer, memorizing the curve of his face and the delicate skin of his tiny hand before slipping away with your husband.
˚ ༘♡ the player uniforms were a tight, oppressive reminder of the role you had agreed to take on. the white and forest-green fabric felt rough against your skin, the stitched numbers, 001 on him, 077 on you, marking you both as part of this wicked charade. the air between you was dense with unspoken tension as you followed his lead into the heart of the games.
˚ ༘♡ the aftermath of the first game hit you like a physical blow. scarlet-red blood smeared the walls, the metallic stench thick enough to taste. lifeless bodies were being dragged away by masked figures, their uniforms pristine against the carnage. your stomach churned violently, and you had to bite down hard to keep from retching. your husband walked ahead, his pace measured, his face a mask of icy detachment.
˚ ༘♡ yet, even as he feigned indifference, you noticed the subtle tension p his clenched fists and the hard line of his jaw. no matter how disciplined and resolute he was, pretending you were a stranger clearly cost him some of his will power.
˚ ༘♡ you entered the massive dormitory, a cavernous space where the remaining players huddled in groups, their expressions etched with terror and disbelief. the room was alive with murmurs, frantic whispers of confusion and distress as they tried to process what had happened. the realization of the deadly nature of the games hung over the crowd, suffocating and inescapable.
˚ ༘♡ abruptly, a piercing voice broke through the calamity, commanding and filled with urgency. all eyes turned to player 456, a man whose presence seemed to dominate the room. his words were bold, calling for a vote in accordance with the consent clause, a chance for the players to decide whether they would continue or abandon the games. the idea rippled through the crowd, igniting faint glimmers of hope in some and deepening the despair in others.
˚ ༘♡ your husband moved slightly, a subtle shift in his stance catching your attention. his gaze flicked toward you, so brief it was almost imperceptible. then, with deliberate movements, he traced a small circle on the back of his hand, an action so precise it disturbed you. he turned away before you could react, his focus now on the masked enforcers who were setting up the voting station.
˚ ༘♡ it took you a moment to understand the message. he wanted you to vote in favor of continuing the games. the realization landed suddenly. you clenched your fists, your nails biting into your palms as you tried to steady yourself. the thought of condemning the remaining players to more death and suffering was unbearable, but you understood what his silent gesture meant. if the games ended now, everything he had planned, every risk he had taken, would amount to nothing.
˚ ༘♡ the apprehension caused your chest to tighten further as the masked figures prepared the voting station, their movements mechanical and precise. the voices of the players rose, some pleading for an end, others arguing to stay. you felt your pulse quicken, the enormity of what you were about to do pressing down on you as you prepared to cast a vote that would decide not only the fate of the players but the course of your husband’s dangerous mission.
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a/n: the winner of the fanfiction vote, but i will definitely be writing for cho sang-woo as well! i hope you all enjoy reading! let me know if you have anymore requests! 🤍
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melminli · 3 days ago
Note
I LOVEDDDDDDD your Thanos “bang bang bang” post and it made me very curious abt how they know eo and stuff and like I’d love to read more about it in general if you don’t mind. It’s so great and I love your writing <333 have a fun day / night 🫶🏻
BANG BANG BANG ll
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summary - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.
pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader
word count: 1.8k
contains: violence, angst, death, drug use and addiction, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really
a/n: ty so much! this turned out kinda freaky but that is because thanos is a freak so, i didn't really have a choice.
prev. | masterlist
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There was an eerie silence among all the participants for the first few seconds after the first death happened. The realization of what this meant for everyone present slowly sank in, and you thought that maybe the crazy man with all his screaming, wasn't quite as crazy as you originally thought. The real madman was probably the person somewhere upstairs or - you didn't know exactly where, but you knew that they were watching you.
“Don't move!” His voice shouted again, but this time with a completely different force. It may be that this was the most logical conclusion one could draw from what had just happened, but some seemed to throw all logic out of the window as soon as the fear of death hit. It only took one person to panic to set off a domino effect and from one second to the next loud gunshots could be heard, following the fearful screams of one person after another. The participants were being slaughtered like frightened animals in a cage, what kind of sick game was really going on here?
You too began to tremble as you looked down at the floor, dissociating and trying to ignore your surroundings as best you could. You had to stop yourself from flinching when the person right next to you was killed, even as you felt his still warm blood covering your cheek, even as a small river of it started pooling around your foot. You were most likely going to leave a trace of him all over the ground as soon as you started walking again - whoever he was. It didn't take very long for everyone who had moved to be shot, maybe half a minute - and yet it must have been the worst half minute of your life so far.
“Don't you dare move,” Thanos said in a voice you weren't used to hearing from him. “I'm serious, don't make me mad.”
You just looked at his back from behind, with a tense posture while you tried to regain control of your breathing again. Finally, there was complete silence on the pitch again. Even if it wasn't an entirely welcome silence.
The voice from the loudspeakers began to speak again and you already knew that this would be a voice that would haunt you in your nightmares. “Let me repeat: You can move forward while the tagger shouts, Green light, red light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”
Ah, so that's what you meant with eliminated. A bit literal but no biggie! The game continued, but no one really dared to move a muscle even when the puppet looked away. You then saw Thanos shift slightly out of the corner of your eye and noticed that he was pulling his cross necklace out of his t-shirt. Safe to say, that you could barely believe what you were seeing right before your very eyes. You've got to be kidding me, they took everything we had from us, but he was allowed to keep that old thing? “Are you seriously going to take that stuff now?” you whispered in disbelief but didn't really judge him for it. You were this close to just laughing out loud at the absurdity of the scene, but you didn't.
“You don't have to be jealous, sweetheart,” he replied with slightly shaky hands as he stopped his movement abruptly when the doll finished talking. He just stared longingly at the colorful pills in front of him. “I don't mind sharing with you, you know that.”
You sighed inwardly at the thing you were about to do. You had been clean for maybe about six years by now and quitting drugs of any kind overnight was really fucking hard - definitely one of the hardest things you had to do in your life. On the other hand, your life was still as shitty as before, the only difference being that you were now consciously depressed and unhappy, so who cares? You could die every second anyway. “Thanks.” you just said after taking the pill out of his hand and threw the thing as quickly as possible in your mouth as soon as the doll looked away. Yeah, you were the biggest hypocrite on earth, old news.
It only took maybe a few seconds after that for you to feel the effects of the pill and then finally, all the stress started to dissipate. Your muscles relaxed, all the shouting about whatever felt like a soft pillow hugging you and the weird laying positions of the dead around you suddenly seemed incredibly funny. These were really strong pills, you could practically feel your whole body tingling. “Why are they all suddenly forming a line?” you asked with a grin and Thanos just hummed, not knowing the answer himself. “No idea, but watch this,” he said and waited until the puppet had turned towards you to push the person next to him, causing everyone in front of them to fall over too. “Ding! You lost,” he told them while wiggling his eyebrows and smirking after he watched them get shot.
You didn't even try to stifle your laughter at the scene. “You really are such an asshole.” you replied, shoving him aside this time after the doll averted its gaze. You then ran away as fast and as far away as you could so that he couldn't take revenge on you for what you had just done. However, you quickly stopped moving with both hands in the air as soon as the girlish voice emitted red light as if you were surrendering to her. You stifled your grin and pretty much failed when you noticed a slightly older woman standing relatively close to you. “Hey, are you trying to hide behind me to use me as a shield?” you spoke out without moving your mouth much and watched as she began to sweat more after you realized what she was doing. Still, she didn't pay you any further attention. “And now you're ignoring me too?” you spat out annoyed and grabbed her by the arm when you were free to move and pulled her in front of you against her will.
She tried to fight you off but you forced her further forward while she tried to defend herself. “You're older than me, aren't you ashamed of yourself?” You asked her and stopped walking before the robot's face turned towards you.
Number 57, who was still resisting your grip, stumbled a little to the side when you suddenly let go of her. She was about to howl in delight when she noticed how everyone else stood still. “No…” she mumbled out fearfully. “It's because of that bitch! I didn't -” she tried to defend herself to someone as she looked around the room, but her head caught the bullet before she could even finish her sentence.
“I may be a bitch, but at least I'm still alive.” you sang to her dead body on the floor before running past her. You didn't know how much time was left, but you had almost made it to the finish line anyway. You stopped with your back to the robot girl this time and it didn't take you long to spot the purple hair in the crowd. “Su-bong!” you shouted his name, since you had somehow gotten separated while running. You waited until he yelled back with a what?! “Last one there, gets fucked in the ass!” you yelled out without any shame or filter and saw his facial expression turn serious at the challenge. “Let's Go!”
The whole game went by relatively quickly once you took the pill from Thanos. It was actually quite fun, you thought to yourself as you both jumped around like two crazy people with grinning faces, waving your arms around wildly. I know it's not socially acceptable to say this, but I fucking love doing drugs! It was like everything around you was happening in slow motion and all the decisions you made felt foggy, like you didn't even realize what you were doing.
You loved being this person, it felt great to forget everything and just - not think. “I have won! No, really! You crossed the line two steps after me, I saw it!” you exclaimed before Thanos could object to a single thing. “Didn't anyone else see that?” you exclaimed in disbelief as if the others weren't busy staying alive while watching several others die right before their faces. You didn't care about the looks they gave you as you waved your hand. “No, they definitely saw it. I won.”
Thanos just gave in with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I'm getting fucked in the ass which is gay, very funny.” he just mumbled to himself annoyed, and continued to avoid your gaze, but couldn't help grin again when you slapped him on the shoulder laughing. “Hey, why did we stop doing all this again?” he asked you when he couldn't remember the reason. All he knew was that he hadn't had this much fun in a long time, even though he knew that he always had a great time with you - no matter what.
You laughed. “Oh, that's because you promised me that we'd both get clean together, and then you spent the money I gave you for rehab on more drugs behind my back. “ you laughed along with him, even if Thanos frowned a little at the memory and you started to smile forcedly after remembering again how he had betrayed you. “Or what was it again? Was it something about that Youtuber you told me about…” you mumbled to yourself obliviously, feeling any sense of happiness begin to fade. You finally gave up, the details weren't that important anyway. “It doesn't really matter though, right? In any case, you used the money for something else, whatever it was. Even though you knew how hard I worked for it - hell, I didn't even eat most days to scrape it together, man.” you stated while you looked him in the face, even though he averted his gaze from you. “That's just fucked up dude.”
Exactly. You actually hated being this person. You might not remember it right now, but you would as soon as the effects of the pill wore off, which hopefully wasn't soon. You really hoped it wasn't soon, because you didn't want to be aware of anything that had happened today.
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aurorawritestoescape · 3 days ago
Text
BORROWED TIME
Joel Miller x f!reader || 4k
Summary: Joel and you are enjoying an ideal vacation together. Warm ocean, white sand, soft kisses, and hot sex make it feel like paradise. But as your time here is running out, the thoughts that you‘ve been trying to keep at bay start eating at your soul.
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, fluff, age is not specified, soft dom vibes, infidelity, praise kink, f!oral, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampies, belly bulge, soft!Joel, EMOTIONS, rough-ish sex, consensual somno, heavily inspired by Pedro’s vacay pics and videos. Pics are only for the mood. Joel can lift reader. Reader wears a dress, a bikini.
A/n: yay my first fic of 2025! I didn’t expect it to be this one but like all of us I was deeply affected by the recent Pedro content and needed to cope somehow so I wrote this. I really hope y’all will like it! Smooches to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing💋 ILY, baby🫂 Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
MASTERLIST
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The first day in heaven. A soft breeze caresses your skin as soon as you step out of the cab, just from the airport, but Joel’s hands always do it better.
You’ve been looking forward to this trip, afraid to even talk about it, scared to jinx it, make it vanish like a mirage. You’ve been dreaming of having Joel all to yourself for too long.
Joel hugs you in the hotel lobby while they’re checking you in, and you tilt your head up to face him. You’ve never smiled so widely before. Your heart is fluttering in your chest, and his scent, your favorite in the whole world, makes you tremble and gush.
You taste sugar on your lips from a welcome Mimosa, and as soon as you two are in your room, he licks it off; the kiss is full of passion, his hands eager, desperate to tear your summer dress off. It’s on the floor in a second, just like your panties. He kneels in front of you and kisses your naked thigh. A growl against your skin makes you shiver before he looks you up and down, taking in the sight of your naked body, and then tuts with overexaggerated disapproval,
”Asked you not to wear anything underneath, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but I couldn’t be butt-naked on the plane, Joel,” you giggle, tracing a line from the crease between his brows, down the slope of his nose, and to his chin. You love his profile so much that seeing it is not enough, so you made a habit of touching it too.
“I promise you’ll never see any underwear on me from now on.”
“Good girl,” he praises you with a wide smile, and then suddenly latches onto your wet pussy. You gasp and grab his broad shoulders to steady yourself. Joel helps you not to fall, his strong hands on your thighs spread your legs apart, and you happily grant him access to the most sacred part of your body.
He pushes his tongue between your folds, traces your soft entrance with its tip, and your legs are already trembling. He starts playing with you, mischief swimming in his dark eyes, slowly laps at your folds, gently sucks on your clit but doesn’t give you enough stimulation to come.
You whine when his mouth parts from your puffy bud, desperate for a release.
“You’ll come, my angel. But only on my cock,” Joel promises, getting up, takes you in his arms, and carries you to the shower.
You're caged between the shower wall and Joel. He's naked and wet, radiating sex and desire. Soapy water is running over the curves of your body while he's washing you, taking his time. His big lathered palms are gliding over your breasts, belly, mound, ass. Your hands are pressed to the expense of his chest as he's slowly edging you, always happy to play with you like a cat with a mouse. He's waiting for you to break under his touch, to beg for more. Yet his heart is beating so fast and hard under your palms that it leaves you no doubt that he's desperate for you just as much as you're for him. He can't get enough of you and your heart sings, seeing every sign of it— his blown out eyes, his heavy breathing, his hard cock.
You're revelling in the caress of Joel's hands but your body takes over soon enough. Your wet palm slithers down his torso and wraps around his stiff length. You pump the shaft a few times and then guide his tip between your folds.
"Fuck me, Joel." Your plea is almost swallowed by the sound of the rainfall shower but he hears you.
"Begging me already? So needy." His eyes are obsidian, he can't fool you.
"Aren't you?" you purr, sliding his fat tip up and down over your hardened clit, massaging it, making yourself moan and tremble. The sensation makes Joel grunt and break. Through his teeth he commands, "Turn around."
“Yes, sir,” you breathe out, smile wide, eyes sparkling, and in a second the cold tile kisses your cheek, then your pebbled nipples, and his fat head slowly slides into your pussy, followed by his girthy shaft.
“Hngggg— oh, baby—been thinking of fucking you since this morning. Your damn dress. Took me a lot not to ruin you right on the plane.”
You whimper at his words and then your eyes roll back when he starts thrusting his thickness in and out of your tight cunt. It takes you a few deep breaths to get used to the stretch but you always take him well and soon wet slapping noises reverberate off the walls, together with your moans and his grunts fusing into a melody of lust and passion. You love when he’s as desperate for you as you’re for him. It gives you hope.
Crispy sheets, so white your eyes hurt, envelop your poorly-dried bodies like a cloud.
“C’mere,” he croaks, pulling you closer, and you rest your head on his chest as he covers you two with a blanket. His warm cum is leaking out of your stretched pussy and you tingle all over again but the flight has drained you both and in a couple of minutes you two fall asleep.
You wake up before Joel and slip out from under his arm to look at the view. You walk out on the balcony and the beauty of the ocean under the bright sun overwhelms you, making you squeal with excitement. Not being able to wait any longer to feel the caress of the waves, you hurry back to the room and wake Joel up with a soft kiss.
“Wake up, sleepy. Let’s go swimming before the sun sets.”
Joel’s golden skin is sparkling with a myriad of water diamonds as he’s standing waist-deep in the bluest ocean in front of you, rendering you completely mesmerized. He chuckles, noticing the way you’re almost drooling, and pulls you closer into his embrace. With his body pressed to yours, your pussy starts aching, and a twitch in his swim trunks tells you that he’s also affected by the sight and the feel of you.
“Damn, baby, driving me crazy…your tiny bikini…”
“Do you like it?” you ask, brushing his neck with your lips, tasting salt on his skin.
“Hate the way they all stare at you. You’re mine. But the way you look. Yeah, I like it,” he growls and bucks his hips against you under the water. You giggle and then sigh into the crease of his neck.
“I’m yours,” you whisper. ‘Are you mine?’ you think. You push the thoughts back into a box in your mind you promised yourself not to open here. ’You’re in heaven. Don’t ruin it,’ you remind yourself.
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The next morning you wake up and see Joel right next to you, limbs tangled in the sheets, plush lips asking for a kiss. A rush of happiness makes you tear up and you squirm with impatience to start the day when Joel opens his eyes. He’s gorgeous in the morning — hair disheveled, voice hoarse. He looks a little grumpy but you kiss the crease between his brows away and his face softens.
“Morning, my angel.”
You wish you could hear it till the rest of your life. Or at least next week. He pulls you into his sleepy body, the hug is tight, the kiss is impatient, and soon the murmur of the ocean accompanies your whispers as you’re riding him, your thighs, sticky with sweat cling to his hips, his hand is kneading your breast, the other’s focused on making you come, thick fingers swirling around your clit. He expertly brings you to a hard orgasm and follows quickly after—the back of his head dips into the fluffy pillow as he bursts into you and you milk him to the last drop, happy to walk around with his cum between your legs all day.
Joel’s lying on a lounger now, his expression concentrated, reading a book in the shade, while you’re standing a few steps away, drying yourself with a towel, just out of the ocean. You can’t help but stare at his handsome face, the broadness of his shoulders, his big arms. God, he’s gorgeous. Feeling your heart eyes on him, Joel glances at you from the side and his lips curve into a playful smirk. It sends a bolt of lightning through your body, electrifies every nerve, makes your core burn with desire.
No need for words. His expression tells you everything - ‘C’mere. Now.’
Still dripping water, you walk to him and straddle his muscular thighs, barely covered by his red shorts. His legs are hot against your cold skin but you melt into your bikini bottoms because of his eyes— obsidian, piercing, magnetic, they pull you close and you lie down on his chest. His book, forgotten in a second, falls on the sand with a thud. You kiss his soft lips and whisper against them, “Take me to our room.”
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Delicious dinners at sunset, the warm ocean, the white sand, clinging to your heated body, but most importantly him next to you make the time here fly. Blissful minutes turn into hours, hours flow into days. Full of laughter, long conversations, endless kissing and hot sex. But your ideal life, your paradise starts glitching and breaking into pixels when one morning he offers, “Wanna go get some souvenirs?”
Just one question, as trivial as it can be on a holiday, breaks the wall you’ve built in your mind between your perfect existence here and your reality there. Between your present and your future. Near future. You’re going back soon. To that life.
Suffocating panic tightly grabs your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to drive away the thoughts, to glue the wall back together but he muses what he should get for Sarah and your wall turns into glass and shatters into a million pieces.
You mumble something incoherent trying to fight the upcoming tears and rush to the bathroom.
By the time you’re standing in front of the mirror tears are flowing down your cheeks and you hastily wipe them away, hating to upset him, but your heart and your head, joined in a cruel tandem, remind you that everything is going to go back to normal very soon. Normal for him is a misery for you. Waiting, hoping, asking him to stay longer, wishing that he finally makes a decision, finally chooses you.
The rest of the day you’re quiet, afraid to speak and to let your emotions spoil your precious time together. It gets unbearably hard to ignore the fact that you’re having him all to yourself on borrowed time. You start or rather let yourself notice his calls, his voice quiet, probably lying about his business meetings. He talks to his wife on the balcony or in the bathroom, not to keep you a secret —you know how to be quiet when she calls at this point, but rather not to rub her in your face. You’re thankful, not wanting to reopen the wound that’s been slowly healing up during these days together. Yet you know that soon it’s going to gush blood again when you say goodbye to your paradise and return to your empty bed, fleeting dates with him and soul-crushing loneliness.
You disassociate when he talks about packing and the flight back. You kiss him and want to cry, moan his name under the weight of his body but your heart aches. Every touch is a reminder that soon it’ll be over, soon he’ll be hers again.
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It’s the last day of the trip and early in the morning you sneak out while Joel’s still asleep and go to the beach. It’s almost empty, only seagulls are the witnesses of your breakdown. You’re crying, swept by a wave of dreadful thoughts in your mind. Tomorrow you’re leaving and then he’s leaving you. For a day? Two? A week? Who knows.
You can’t blame him. You knew that he was married from the start. At first it felt like a fling but you got attached, you fell in love with the married man and foolishly expected him to divorce his wife, scoop you up in his big arms and carry you into the sunset like in a cheesy rom-com. But he kept telling you that, yes he didn’t love his wife anymore, but his daughter Sarah was too young and she was his world. He’d never hurt her like that, would never break up the family.
They say, you can’t change the ocean, no matter how hard you try, so it’s best to learn how to sail in all conditions. Just like the ocean Joel was unyielding in his devotion to his daughter but you failed to adapt so you were slowly drowning in despair, your love for him dragging you down like an iron ball chained to your foot.
You wipe the tears away and squeeze a handful of sand between your fingers as anger rises in your stomach. You deserve better than being someone’s dirty secret. What if you give him an ultimatum - you or his wife, and if he chooses her, you’ll find someone else. Someone who’ll love you openly, who’ll choose you. Someone better.
A thought makes your stomach sink - it’s not possible. Joel is perfect. He’s fucking perfect except for one huge flaw. He’s married.
You walk with your heart heavy back to your room and find Joel up, nervously pacing the floor. He asks where you’ve been and, not being able to conceal your feelings any longer, you burst into tears. He rushes to hug you but you slap his arms away. You shout, you cry, you beg. All the pain pushed deep down is spilling out of your heart, accompanied by the words you hate saying, insecurities you promised yourself to hide but it’s hard to stop.
It’s not like he hasn’t heard it all before. He has and that’s why now he looks tired. Not angry. Never. Just tired, sad and guilty.
Joel tries to calm you down, comfort you but all in vain. You’re waiting for him to tell you ‘I’ll be with you forever,” but instead he mumbles that he needs to take a walk and leaves you crying, face buried in his pillow. His scent woven into the fabric brings a thought to your mind which makes you cry even harder — soon you’ll go back to your flat where everything smells like him but loses the warmth of his body the second he leaves.
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In the evening Joel timidly suggests going to the hotel bar. You feel embarrassed for your earlier outburst, but the fact that he didn’t make the decision you hoped for is twisting your stomach. Thinking that everything is better than staring at the suitcases in the corner of the room, you agree to go.
The bar is almost empty except for the two of you. You sit at the counter and order two shots of tequila. After emptying them fast, you both get two more and soon the hard liquor slightly numbs your emotions.
Joel’s warm hand is resting on your lower back as he’s peppering your shoulder, your neck, your cheek with open mouth kisses, but you’re cold, distant. It’s hard even to look at him.
He sighs but then suddenly exclaims, making you jerk,
“I love this song! Let’s dance!”
You smile a little, amused by the lights in his eyes. He’s cute when he’s tipsy. But you shake your head and mumble that you’re not in the mood.
Joel surprises you when he slides off his stool and starts dancing. Alone. For you. Despite everything you can’t tear your eyes off him. His dark gaze set on yours pierces your soul and makes your heart flutter in your chest. His movements are slow and alluring and the sway of his hips ignites fire in your core. You press your thighs together, quickly affected by his blatant seduction, and when he moves closer, so close you can feel the heat of his body, it gets hard for you to breathe.
Joel’s lustful eyes tell you to submit and when he places his hands on your knees, you obediently open your legs in invitation. He gets between your thighs and gently takes your face in his hands. Joel looks into your eyes and you stop breathing altogether. At this moment you realize that you’ll never leave him willingly, never be able to say goodbye to these kind brown eyes, these soft lips, these gentle hands. He’s the love of your life and you’re his completely and utterly. But he’s not yours.
You rush to your room, both swept by the urge to tear each other apart. Soon your clothes are littering the floor, your cheek pressed to the bed, ass pushed out in the air, as he’s kneeling behind you, snapping his hips against you hard and fast, pushing his throbbing cock deeper into your wet cunt, grunting, making you scream. His fat tip knocks at your cervix and it slightly hurts but you welcome it, wishing to focus on the ache from his length rather than the pain torturing your soul. His hands are leaving marks on your soft hips and you’re looking forward to seeing them on your body later as evidence that this trip was in fact real and not a wishful dream.
“Fuck— gonna come— you first, baby,” Joel growls and rubs your clit with an impatient hand, wet with your juices. You come shaking and crying on his cock and he rewards you with his load, squirting against your pulsating walls, which are squeezing him tightly and desperately. He’s carefully pulling out, and your tight cunt grabs onto him. Just like your heart, your body always craves him.
You wake up when it’s still dark outside. Joel’s chest is pressed to your back, his hand is cupping your wet folds, as he’s taking you from behind, sleepily moving his cock in and out of your sore pussy, drenched with his cum.
“Oh, baby— ahhh—love you—so much—yeahh— so good—,” he’s whispering in your ear, his voice gruff with sleep, his hot breath caressing your cheek. You moan softly before echoing him, “I love you, Joel.”
You beg him not to stop, already feeling yourself on the brink of ecstasy. The nature of your relationship makes it a rarity to be used by him in your sleep and you get turned on instantly. His arm snakes under and wraps around you as he starts pulling and twitching your nipples, while his other hand massages your puffy folds and then moves up.
“Damn—right here,” Joel grows, feeling a lump, moving under your skin. Thrusting his cock in and out with a steady rhythm, he mumbles, “Gimme,” grabs your hand and presses your palm tightly to your own belly, covering it with his hand.
“Feel it?”
“Yes, Joel, fuck,” you whimper and turn your head to catch his lips with yours. Joel keeps fucking you leisurely while you both are feeling the push of his cock under your skin.
Completely drunk on pleasure, swallowing each other's moans, you start coming hard at the same time, and your bodies, wet with sweat, jerk against each other. You feel so full, complete - your core is full of his load, your heart is full of his love. Happy in your oblivion, you fall asleep in the heaven of Joel’s arms.
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But the dreaded morning comes fast. You try to concentrate on the tasks at hand, focus on the last preparations and soon Joel and you get into the cab, ready to head to the airport. You throw one last look at the hotel and the ocean, and take a deep breath, fighting the urge to cry. Sensing it, Joel pulls you closer and starts telling you an old childhood story, something about his brother Tommy and them ditching school together. You know what he’s doing but surprisingly it works and soon your giggles and his deep laugh fill the cab, lighting up the air between you two.
When you arrive in Austin, Joel insists on going to your address together. You refuse at first, but spending an extra hour with him sounds amazing. You hold hands on the way and shamelessly make out at the back of the cab.
You arrive at your place and Joel helps you with your suitcases. When you step into your flat, it seems like you’re carrying something heavy on your shoulders. Should you apologize for the last few days? Should you say something about it at all, risking leaving a bad taste in your mouths, ruining the whole trip.
But Joel beats you to it.
He comes up to you and hugs you tight. So tight that it’s hard for you to breathe. You nuzzle his neck, reveling in his scent, and suddenly you feel his whole body shake. You tilt your head up and see tears in his sad eyes. You’ve never seen Joel cry before, and it makes your chest hurt and your eyes well up too.
“Joel?“
“No, baby. Listen to me.” His voice is shaky, and fear grips your heart. Is he going to break up with you? You’d die on the spot.
He sniffs and continues,
“I’m sorry. Sorry for the mess I got you in. Sorry for your tears, but — I can’t, baby. Can’t do what you want from me. Rightfully so, but — not now. I’m sorry.”
You’re shaking your head, your teardrops landing on his tee,
”No, it’s ok. It’s fine.”
“It’s not, sweetheart. I’m an asshole. It’s horrible what I’m doing to them and to you. But I’m fuckin selfish. I can’t — can not be with you. I need you. I love you too much.”
You smile weakly, hearing his confession. Joel takes your hands in his and holds them tightly as he croaks,
“And you decide to stop seeing me, I’ll understand. I won’t bother you. I promise.”
You wipe tears off his scruffy cheeks and reach up to give him a kiss.
When you part from him, your expression is serious and determined.
“There’s nothing to decide, Joel. I love you. And I’ll wait for you. As long as you need me to. I’m yours.”
Joel’s red eyes dart between yours, and you give him a reassuring smile. After taking a deep breath, he whispers ,
“I don’t deserve you.”
He lifts you up, strong arms wrapped around your torso, and crashes his mouth against yours. You kiss him back with passion, putting your love in every stroke of your lips. Joel possessively licks into your mouth, his big hand cups the back of your head, keeping you close - a sign that he’s not letting you go. He needs you too much.
It might be wrong, it might bring you both grave pain, but a glimmer of hope in your heart, given by his confession, puts a smile on your face when you close the door behind him. He loves you, he wants to be with you, you’re his. And for now, it should be enough.
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Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!<3
MASTERLIST
Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40
People who were interested in the wip: @baronessvonglitter @almostfoxglove @tammythr @sawymredfox @myownwholewildworld @guiltyasdave
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illyrianbitch · 1 day ago
Text
Accidental
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Pairing: Reader x Azriel
Summary: Azriel accidentally likes an old photo while stalking your profile. A spiral into mortification follows.
Warnings: modern! prythian aka everything is the same except social media exists. az sucks at social media and is a loverboy and mortified stalker. sassy shadows and matchmaking. basically fluff and crushes
Word Count: 1.8k
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Azriel barely used Instagram. 
His account was a placeholder at best—a profile photo of him, Rhys, and Cassian from some formal court trip, no posts, and a follower count so small it seemed like he was actively trying to be cool. Hundreds of follow requests sat ignored, mostly Mor’s friends or Cassian’s buddies.  
Azriel had only downloaded the app for Rhysand. It had been part of the public rebranding of their ruling, a way for the Night Court citizens to feel closer to the individuals they relied on for the proper functioning of their court. Rhys had insisted that having a social media presence—however minimal, as he’d said with that plastered grin of his—was good for their image. Cassian and Mor had jumped in with no hesitation. Azriel, on the other hand, had never felt a more intense, animalistic rage than when Cassian managed to flood his phone with ridiculous memes and videos that only elderly fae could find funny.
Well, elderly fae and Cassian, it seemed.
So Azriel had gone along with it, sitting next to Mor as she set up his lackluster account. He hadn’t bothered to edit it since. In truth, he only opened the app when he was completely, mind-numbingly bored. Or, like tonight, when the house was too quiet, and he couldn’t stop thinking about you.
The search bar remembered your name. One tap, and there it was—your profile, a perfectly curated grid of moments that always seemed so effortlessly you. 
Azriel made sure he was on his second account. While he never intended to use the app for anything other than the occasional check-in, he liked knowing he had the option to interact with his family if he ever chose to. To ensure that safety net, for whenever it might be needed, Azriel had created a second, more private account. No identifiable name, no picture. His only followers were his family, their close friends, and you.
His shadows shifted lazily around him, one curling near his ear, ready to whisper. Others lingered by his shoulders. He could feel their silent critique, like they were collectively arching a brow.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered, brushing one of them away with a flick of his fingers. It didn’t retreat far, still coiled in the corner of his vision like it was waiting for him to come to his senses.
He ignored them and clicked on your profile.
The first photo caught his attention immediately. You, smiling at the camera, holding a drink with two cherries hanging off the glass. He wondered what it was, what you preferred your liquor to be mixed with. Mor was in the background, her arm slung around your shoulder, laughing at something out of frame. He bit back a snicker at Mor’s comments under the photo, at the way she jokingly groveled and thirsted for you like a stereotypical, horny, young fae. 
Darker thoughts crept in. The idea that there might be others—men, strangers—leaving similar comments, but in all seriousness, made his stomach churn. A wave of unease rolled over him. He scowled and willed himself to scroll past, deliberately avoiding the remaining 20 comments.
He scrolled. Another photo—this one from a trip to the Summer Court, your legs stretched out on the sand, a book propped against your knees. The sunlight hit your skin just right, your sunglasses reflecting the waves.  
And then he kept scrolling. He couldn’t stop. Posts from weeks ago turned into months, then years. He stopped on one from a themed birthday party, your costume half-hidden by a cluster of friends. The blurry quality didn’t matter—his gaze zeroed in on you, on the way your smile lit up the frame.  He leaned closer to the screen to get a better look.
But he wasn’t the only one curious for a detailed glance, it seemed. His shadows around him moved suddenly, as erratic and fast as they could be, and the motion startled him— pushed his arm just enough. Almost instantaneously, Azriel’s thumb brushed against the screen.
No, no, no, he thought. He tried to pull back, but it was too late.
The red heart bloomed on the screen.
“No,” Azriel muttered, out loud this time. He sat up so fast his phone almost slipped from his hands. “No,” he repeated in horror, as his wings curled tight against his back, the sharp movement almost painful.
The heart lingered there, mocking him. A post from three years ago, a photo you probably hadn’t even remembered. And now your notifications would light up with his name. He’d be exposed in all of his stalker glory. 
He jammed his thumb into the screen, unliking the post, but it didn’t matter. The damage was done. He couldn’t undo it. The guilt, the horror—he hadn’t felt this mortified in centuries. His shadows hovered near him, drifting around his head like little mischievous wraiths. Watching him. Waiting for the fallout.
Azriel cursed under his breath. “You made me do this.”
They flicked in response—teasing. An amused dance. Keep. Wait.
A strangled noise left him. He tossed his phone onto the bed next to him, face down, trying to escape the embarrassment of what he’d just done. His shadows were quick, though, swarming toward the phone. Tendrils grasped it and brought it back to his chest, setting it down with a soft thud.
“Really?” he hissed at them.
The shadows responded with an amused flicker, their tendrils writhing in a way that felt like they were laughing. They were laughing. Azriel knew this. They were loving this, basking in his mortification.
Maybe they’d been too bored recently, he thought bitterly. After all, they were used to the adrenaline of constant threats, the thrill of danger lurking at every corner. To be honest, so was he. It had been a learning curve for all of them to adjust to… peace. But he would’ve never expected them to stoop so low—to find this, his embarrassment, so entertaining.
They used to protect him. Used to care for him. Traitors. Mischievous, conniving traitors.
They’d painted him as a stalker without even realizing it, and worse, they seemed proud of it.
Azriel groaned, dragging a hand over his face. 
Social media sucked.
Azriel groaned in frustration and leaned back against the wall behind his bed. His wings were still tight against his back, every muscle tense. If he ignored it, maybe it would just never come up again—maybe the world would stop spinning long enough for this nightmare to pass. Why was he so embarrassed, anyway? 
Master with slippery fingers. Funny. Spy now seen. Funny.
Then, his phone buzzed.
Azriel froze. His blood ran cold, and he picked it up slowly, like it was a trap. He glanced at the notification, and his stomach flipped.
Your name. In a godsdamned text. 
He almost dropped the phone again.
Did you just like a photo from three years ago? 👀
His eyes darted to the next message.
Deep dive, huh?
A long beat of silence stretched. His shadows circled around him, pressing close like nosy little imps, smirking in their own way. Azriel couldn’t decide whether to laugh or die from embarrassment.
Sorry, accident.
He grimaced the second he watched the message send. Shadows pressed in closer. More. More. He ran his tongue along his teeth before letting out another sigh. Nothing to lose at this point. 
I was feeling nostalgic.
Azriel hit send before he could stop himself. 
And then immediately regretted it. He flopped back on his bed with an aggravated groan. This. Was. A. Disaster. And he’d just made it worse. He had yet to understand why his common sense tended to disappear when it came to you. It was humbling, to say the least. 
His family wouldn’t let this go. Not in a million years. He could already hear Cassian’s booming laugh, the bastard cringing with mock horror despite being the least shameful person Azriel knew. Cass had done the same thing once—accidentally liking someone’s post—and he’d turned redder than Rhys’s favorite wine.
Then there were the times Mor had complained about people lurking on her profile, her nose wrinkling as she muttered about how gross it was. If she found out about this? She’d never let him hear the end of it.
And you. He didn’t even want to imagine how you’d respond if you found out. Would you laugh it off? Would you be creeped out, knowing he hadn’t managed to hold a proper conversation with you, but here he was… lurking? He was never beating the strange, stalker allegations now.
Shrouded in shadow, Night Court’s spymaster secretly loves creeping on his family’s friends on social media. Oh yes, that’d be wonderful for their polished image.
He shook his head, hating how the mortifying narrative practically wrote itself. Of course, he was overreacting—he knew that much. Liking a post wasn’t some cardinal sin. But it didn’t help his embarrassment.
And it definitely didn’t help that his shadows were snickering in his ears.
Another buzz. He grabbed his phone with impressive speed.
Nostalgic? For a party you weren’t even at? Interesting.
In a matter of seconds, Azriel typed out a dozen responses—short, curt, defensive—before erasing them all. Shadows around him fluttered, restless with amusement. Even they understood just how thoroughly he’d boxed himself in. They whispered ideas he promptly ignored. He was already in enough trouble. Finally, he settled on something somewhat believable:
Mor told me about your great costume from a few years back. I wanted to appreciate it.
His thumb hovered over the send button before he hit it, the message firing off into the void. Three dots appeared almost instantly. Then disappeared. Then reappeared.
He swore under his breath.
The reply came a moment later: Sure. If it’s my costume you’re appreciating, just say that.
Azriel blinked. He stared at the screen, torn between mortification and something sharper—something dangerously close to hope.
Before he could stop himself, he typed: Maybe I was.
And then he tossed the phone onto the bed once more. The shadows followed the device, swarming it as it buzzed again almost immediately.
He hesitated. A long moment passed before he finally picked it up.
Well, for the record, I appreciated your deep dive. Very endearing.
His heart stuttered. Endearing. You thought it was endearing. He could work with this. 
For once, he didn’t overthink it.
For the record,  he replied, I appreciated the costume.
When he set the phone down this time, he couldn’t help the small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. A swarm of black swirled around him. Their presence was almost smug now, wrapping him in their knowing energy. 
“Not a word,” Azriel muttered, narrowing his eyes at the nearest wisp as it curled around his wrist.
To his surprise, they listened. They settled, their tendrils spreading out and draping across him like a heavy blanket. Relaxed. Content. Slow, despite the erratic pattering of his heart beneath them.
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if you saw any typos…no you didn’t. @writingcroissant dictatori was pressuring me to post 😔. thank you for reading 🫶🏻🫶🏻
im sorry but the idea of az, who is so good at hiding everything, freaking the FUCK out bc he doesnt understand social media cracks me uppppp
canon-typical prythian but with social media has been on my mind so much. you may see some more of this world im ngl
permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 
@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 
@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg
@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters 
@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot
@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound
@melissat1254
@secretsicanthideanymore
@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire
@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows
azriel tag list 🫶🏻:@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty @acourtofsteelandthunder  @mortqlprojections @ushijima-stits @honethatty12
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amirasainz · 2 days ago
Note
Could you make younger girlfriend x Lewis Hamilton. Maybe there are some rumours and then she visits the paddock with Lewis. The wags and drivers aren't to sure about this at first, but in the end see how happy the couple is. I know this isn't what you usually write, but it is my birthday today and it would make me ver happy. 🤭💗☺️
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 💜
Love has no age
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The first time Yn had stepped into the paddock as Lewis’s official girlfriend, the buzz had been deafening. Rumors had swirled for weeks about Lewis dating someone new, and when the truth finally came out, it was all anyone could talk about.
“Did you see her? She’s so young!”
“Twenty? Isn’t there, like, a fifteen-year age gap?”
“What do they even talk about?”
Yn had tried her best to block out the whispers, clinging to Lewis’s hand as he guided her through the chaos. He’d been her rock, as always, his calming presence grounding her in the midst of all the speculation.
“They’ll come around,” Lewis whispered in her ear as they walked to his garage. “They just don’t know you yet.”
---
Yn hadn’t expected her first encounter with the other WAGs to feel so…awkward. She sat at the hospitality table, surrounded by the glamorous women who had known each other for years. They were friendly, of course, but Yn could sense their hesitation. She was the youngest by a mile, and the age gap between her and Lewis hadn’t escaped their notice.
“So, Yn,” Carmen began with a polite smile, “how are you finding the paddock life?”
Yn straightened in her chair. “It’s exciting! A bit overwhelming, but everyone’s been so welcoming.”
“Everyone?” Kelly raised an eyebrow, her tone light but pointed. “The media hasn’t exactly been kind.”
Yn hesitated, unsure how to respond, but Rebecca jumped in. “The media is never kind. Trust me, you’ll get used to it.” She offered Yn a warm smile, her hand briefly brushing against Yn’s arm in a reassuring gesture.
“Thanks,” Yn said, her voice soft but grateful. She appreciated Rebecca’s kindness, even if she still felt like an outsider.
Carmen leaned in, placing a gentle hand on Yn’s shoulder. “We’re glad you’re here. Really.”
Yn’s heart swelled at the gesture, and for the first time that day, she felt like she might actually belong.
---
By the end of the day, Yn found herself laughing with Rebecca and Carmen like they’d known each other for years. The initial awkwardness had melted away, replaced by an easy camaraderie. Carmen had an arm draped around Yn’s shoulders as they walked through the paddock, while Rebecca kept a hand on Yn’s waist, guiding her through the crowd.
“You’re stuck with us now,” Rebecca teased. “Hope you’re ready.”
“I think I can handle it,” Yn replied with a grin.
Alexandra watched them from a distance, her jaw tight. It wasn’t that she disliked Yn—she just didn’t understand how someone so young and seemingly perfect could fit in so effortlessly. The other WAGs adored her, the fans couldn’t get enough of her, and even the drivers were charmed by her sweet demeanor.
---
“Yn!” Lando called out as he approached the group, a wide smile on his face. “Finally, someone who makes me feel less like a baby here.”
Yn laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “Glad I could help.”
“She’s not that young,” Lewis interjected, stepping up behind Yn and wrapping an arm around her waist. His tone was playful, but there was a protective edge to it.
Lando raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, no offense! I think it’s great. You two look happy.”
“We are,” Lewis said firmly, pressing a kiss to Yn’s temple.
The other drivers gradually joined the conversation, each of them making an effort to include Yn. Oscar cracked jokes that had her in stitches, while Charles teased her about her taste in music after overhearing her playlist. Even Max, who was usually reserved, made a point to ask her how she was finding everything.
“They like you,” Lewis whispered later as they walked back to his motorhome.
Yn looked up at him, her eyes shining. “You think so?”
“I know so,” he said, leaning down to kiss her softly. “But even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. All that matters is us.”
---
Despite the initial skepticism, it didn’t take long for Yn to win over the entire paddock. Her kindness and genuine nature were impossible to ignore, and soon, she was at the center of every conversation. The fans adored her, flooding social media with messages of support and admiration.
“She’s like a ray of sunshine,” one fan tweeted.
“No wonder Lewis is so smitten,” another wrote. “They’re perfect together.”
The attention didn’t go unnoticed by Alexandra and Kelly. Alexandra couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy every time she saw Yn surrounded by people who seemed to worship her. Kelly, on the other hand, was struggling with the fact that Yn’s presence had overshadowed her pregnancy.
“I don’t get it,” Alexandra muttered to Kelly during a quiet moment in the paddock. “What’s so special about her?”
Kelly shrugged, though her expression was tight. “She’s nice, I guess.”
“Nice doesn’t make you the center of the universe,” Alexandra snapped. But even as she spoke, she knew her frustration was misplaced. Yn hadn’t done anything wrong—if anything, she’d gone out of her way to be kind to everyone.
---
Over time, even Alexandra and Kelly couldn’t resist Yn’s charm. During a group dinner, Yn had complimented Kelly on her outfit, sparking a conversation that lasted the entire evening. By the end of the night, Kelly was laughing along with Yn and the others, her earlier resentment forgotten.
As for Alexandra, it was a quiet moment during a race weekend that changed her perspective. She’d been feeling particularly stressed, and Yn had noticed, pulling her aside to ask if she was okay.
“No one’s ever asked me that,” Alexandra admitted, her voice soft.
“Well, someone should,” Yn replied. “You’re always looking out for everyone else. It’s only fair that someone looks out for you.”
Alexandra had been taken aback, but she couldn’t deny the warmth she felt in that moment. From then on, she made an effort to be kinder to Yn, and before long, they’d developed a tentative friendship.
---
Lewis couldn’t have been happier. He loved seeing Yn thrive in the paddock, surrounded by people who cared about her. But more than that, he loved Yn herself. She was everything he’d ever wanted—kind, intelligent, and full of life.
“You know you’re amazing, right?” he told her one evening as they sat on the couch in his motorhome.
Yn looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I’m just me.”
“And that’s more than enough,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.
Their love was obvious to anyone who saw them together. Lewis was always touching her in some way, whether it was a hand on her back, an arm around her shoulders, or a kiss on her forehead. He was protective but never overbearing, always making sure Yn felt safe and loved.
“You’ve got yourself a good one,” Valtteri told Lewis one day, nodding toward Yn, who was deep in conversation with Carmen and Rebecca.
“I know,” Lewis said, his voice full of affection. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
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By the end of the season, Yn had become an integral part of the paddock family. She was no longer just “Lewis’s young girlfriend”—she was Yn, the girl everyone adored. The WAGs were her closest friends, and the drivers treated her like one of their own.
As for Lewis, he couldn’t have been prouder. Every time he looked at Yn, he was reminded of how lucky he was to have her in his life. And if anyone had doubts about their relationship at the start, they were long gone now. It was clear to everyone that what Yn and Lewis had was real.
Age was just a number. What mattered was the love they shared, and that was something no one could deny.
705 notes · View notes