#lemme know what you all think if you'd like

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light In |8|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Eight: Old Temptations

Summary: After hiding yourself away for weeks, Anika and Henry get you to return to the living. While you're at the party they bring you to, you run into Tara before a third-party runs into your fists.

Warning(s): Swearing, fighting - whoop whoop!! that's the sound, social interactions, and drinking (underage)

Notes: I made at least ten drafts, combined them, adjusted, and here is the final product. This is more of an R focused chapter, so you'll start to see more of the internal struggles she goes through along with a special guest start. As always, I hope you enjoy

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

The incandescent lights of Henry's apartment building buzz overhead as you follow him and Anika up the concrete stairs. Your boots echo against each step, creating a hollow rhythm that matches your reluctant heartbeat. You've been dreading this party all week, but your friends had worn you down with their relentless enthusiasm and pointed comments about your "hermit tendencies."

"I still can't believe you actually agreed to come," Henry says over his shoulder, his keys jingling as he searches for the right one. "Usually getting you out after exams is like trying to coax a cat into taking a bath."

"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf," you mutter, knowing full well it's a lie. The only reason you'd agreed was because they'd caught you in a moment of weakness—specifically, when you were coming down from a three-day study binge and your defenses were too low to properly deflect their persistent pestering.

Anika snorts, adjusting her glittering top that catches the harsh hallway light. "Right. And I'm going to start watching silent films with you."

"Charlie Chaplin’s a classic," you defend, following them into Henry's apartment. The familiar scent of his signature sandalwood candles hits you immediately. 

"Whatever you say, grandma," Henry teases, disappearing into his bedroom. You can hear him rummaging around, probably looking for whatever he plans to wear tonight.

You collapse onto his worn leather couch, the same one he'd rescued from a curb three years ago. Despite its questionable origins, it's the most comfortable piece of furniture you've ever encountered. Maybe if you sink deep enough into it, they'll forget you're here and leave without you.

Anika perches on the arm of the couch, already touching up her makeup in a compact mirror. "You know," she starts, and you recognize that tone—it's the one she uses when she's about to say something she thinks you won't like. "Tara might be there tonight."

Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. "And why would I care about that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Anika draws out the words, applying another coat of mascara with practiced precision. "Maybe because you've been moping around ever since your little disappearing act?"

"I haven't been moping," you protest, but even you can hear how weak it sounds. "I've been studying. There's a difference."

"Right," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. The past few weeks have been a blur of textbooks, coffee, and a blend of mathematical formulas and historical documentations. You'd thrown yourself into exam preparation with perhaps more vigor than strictly necessary, but that was just your way of dealing with stress. 

It definitely had nothing to do with how you'd ignored her texts afterward.

Dork (3:47 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I can't make it tonight

Tara (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) oh. lemme knw when u can reschedule 

Dork (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Tara, don't do that

Tara (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) dont wat????

Dork (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I know what 'oh' means

Tara (3:50 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) well then eblighten me cuz idk what ur ymmaring abt

Dork (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Enlighten/*yammering, and never mind

Tara (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) 🤓 is u fr 

Dork (3:52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Excuse me? 

Tara (3: 52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) i have to explain??? but i thougt u were all knowing!

Dork (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Thought. I know you know how to spell, you're just reckless with a keyboard

Tara (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) my question is when did i ask

Dork (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) That's an improvement

Tara (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) stfup.

Henry emerges from his bedroom, now wearing a fitted crop-top that every guy wore in the 80’s. "Are we talking about the Tara situation?"

"There is no 'Tara situation,'" you insist, making air quotes with your fingers. "Can we please just go to this party so I can suffer through it and get back to my peaceful, drama-free existence?"

"Drama-free?" Henry laughs, grabbing his keys. "Is that what we're calling your one-person production of 'Hamlet' these last eighteen years?"

You bite your thumb at him, but there's no real heat behind it. These are your best friends, after all, and you know their teasing comes from a place of love. Even if they're being particularly annoying about it tonight.

The drive to the party is a blur of street lights and the sound of Abbey Road. You're behind the wheel of your beloved '70 Ford Maverick, a car that Henry constantly ridicules. Anika claims the passenger seat, still fussing with her makeup, while Henry sprawls in the back, giving you directions that are more confusing than helpful.

"No, no, turn left at the next—wait, I meant right. My other left."

"Your other left?" you deadpan, making the turn anyway. "How many lefts do you have?"

"Don't sass the navigator," he replies primly. "Oh, there it is! The house with all the cars out front."

You pull up to the curb about half a block away, already feeling your anxiety spike at the sight of the crowded frat house. Music pulses from within, so loud you can feel it in your chest even from here. People mill about on the front lawn, red cups in hand, their laughter carrying through the night air.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you ask, killing the engine but making no move to get out of the car.

Anika turns to you, her expression softening slightly. "Because Henry threatened to sing the entire soundtrack of 'Cats' outside your bedroom door if you didn't come."

"That was a low blow," you mutter, finally unbuckling your seatbelt. "You know how much I hate that musical."

"Desperate times," Henry says cheerfully, already out of the car and bouncing on his heels with excitement. "Come on, let's go find out what kinds of terrible decisions we can make tonight!"

You follow your friends up the walkway, trying to ignore the way your palms are already sweating. The last party you'd attended had been... well, it had been a week before your self-imposed exile. The night Tara had looked at you with those impossibly dark eyes and asked if you wanted to get some air, and you'd panicked and made up an excuse about needing to check on your nonexistent fish.

The front door is already open, music and voices spilling out into the night. As soon as you cross the threshold, you're hit with a wall of sensory input that makes your head spin. The air is thick with artificial fog from a machine hidden somewhere in the corner, mixed with the distinctive scent of cheap beer and various perfumes and colognes. Multi-colored lights pulse in time with the music, turning everything into a strobing dreamscape and your nightmare.

Henry guides you through the crowd with a gentle hand on your back, navigating the sea of bodies with practiced ease. You catch glimpses of familiar faces as you pass. They all blur together in the dim light, becoming a kaleidoscope of features that makes your head swim.

You end up at yet another worn leather couch that's seen better days, probably around the same era as your car. Henry gestures for you to sit, and you do, grateful for something solid beneath you. The cushions seem to want to swallow you whole, and for once, you don't fight it.

"I'll get us drinks!" Henry shouts over the music, already backing away into the crowd. "Don't move!"

Anika lingers for a moment, looking torn between staying with you and pursuing whatever—or whoever—has caught her attention across the room. You wave her off with a weak smile. "Go. I'll be fine right here, becoming one with the furniture."

She hesitates another second before grinning. "Try to have some fun, okay? And text me if you need an escape plan." Then she's gone, disappearing into the crowd with the grace of Mindy, someone who actually enjoys these sorts of gatherings.

Left alone, you let yourself sink deeper into the couch, watching the party unfold around you. A group of girls near the makeshift dance floor are attempting some sort of choreographed routine, though the alcohol in their systems is making it more comedic than coordinated. Two guys are engaged in what appears to be an intense debate about pizza toppings, their gestures becoming more animated with each passing second.

The bass line of whatever song is playing thrums through your body, making your bones vibrate in a way that's not entirely unpleasant. You find yourself timing your breathing to it, using it as an anchor in the chaos. This isn't so bad, you think. You can handle this. It's just a few hours, and then you can go home and binge-watch your comfort shows until the sun comes up.

"Y/L/N special!" Henry's voice breaks through your thoughts as he returns, thrusting a red solo cup into your hands. The liquid inside is an alarming shade of orange that definitely doesn't occur in nature.

You eye it suspiciously. "What exactly makes it a ‘Y/L/N special'?"

"The fact that it's specifically designed for the same people who despise candy unless it's 99% cacao," he explains, dropping onto the couch beside you with his own drink—something amber-colored that you assume is actually beer.

"That's... oddly thoughtful," you admit, taking a tentative sip. It tastes like water that’s had lemons and limes soak in it for months, the kick makes your tongue tingle. "And dangerous."

"Just pace yourself," he advises, watching as more people filter into the already crowded space. "Oh hey, isn't that Charlotte?"

You follow his gaze to see Charlotte, the person you ended things with through a text message. You try to hide behind the red plastic in your hand as you sip, but you nearly spill your bitter bread water all over yourself when she notices you. You can tell it caught her off guard; her eyes slightly widened and she took an uncomfortably long pause mid-sentence. This pause caused her friends to look over which only made things even more awkward—at least for you. After shooting daggers at you and one of them flipping you off, they linked elbows with Charlotte and took her to a different room.

You know you deserved it.

Henry sucked his teeth. “Ouch. Casanova strikes again,” he chuckled with amusement.

“Ugh,” you express in response to the name for you before downing the last of the liquid in your cup. “I’m out. I’m gonna get one more.”

One drink turns into two, two turns into three, and somewhere during your debate with Henry over which Ninja Turtle’s the best one, you’re interrupted by a pair of familiar dark brown eyes meeting yours. Your attention always seemed to gravitate towards Tara Carpenter. 

You momentarily pause your expression of admiration for Leonardo, peeking over Henry’s shoulder to give Tara a downwards smile paired with a finger wave. She rolls her eyes and returns your finger wave in a mocking gesture. After Henry realizes what’s grabbed your attention, he makes an excuse to walk away.

You're nursing your fifth orange drink when she materializes beside you, seemingly out of thin air. "Seriously?" The word drips with exasperation. "You're actually hiding behind Henry?"

"I'm not hiding," you protest, pulling yourself up to what you hope is a dignified height. "I'm strategically positioning myself for optimal social avoidance."

Tara snorts—an inelegant sound that somehow makes her more endearing. "Is that what we're calling it?" 

The space between you crackles with a tension that's part irritation, part something else entirely. 

"I could ask you the same thing," you counter with a crack in your voice. Tara notices this and slightly raises an eyebrow while giving you a once-over. "Pretty sure you've been standing in the exact same spot for the last twenty minutes."

Her eyes narrow. "I'm observing."

"Stalking," you correct automatically.

"Strategically positioning myself," she throws your earlier words back at you, and there's a glint in her eye that makes your breath catch.

For a moment, you felt uncharacteristically at ease in such a setting—when you catch a fragment of a conversation that makes your blood run cold. 

“—Carpenter's got a mouth on her that could—"

The words slice through your alcohol-induced haze like a knife. Your head whips around so fast you almost give yourself whiplash, searching for the source of the comment. Two guys are leaning against the wall near the stairs, one of them making crude gestures as he continues to make vile comments about Tara.

The pleasant warmth in your system transforms instantly into liquid fire. You recognize one of them—Marcus Wheeler from your Calculus class, the one who always makes inappropriate comments during lectures and thinks he's God's gift to mathematics. The other is unfamiliar, but the way he's laughing and encouraging Marcus makes your skin crawl.

Your muscles tense. Tara notices immediately. "Don't," she warns, a single word packed with more meaning than should be possible.

But you're already moving, your body acting before your brain can fully process the decision. 

Your fist connects with his jaw before you even realize you've thrown the punch. There's a satisfying crack that you feel more than hear, followed by a burst of pain across your knuckles that you're too angry to properly register. The pain sends a rush through you, pushes you, tempts you for more. 

Marcus staggers back, both surprised and hurt, but recovers quickly. He lunges for you, but your muscle memory kicks in. You sidestep, using his momentum against him, and somehow you end up on top of him, getting in another solid hit before strong hands pull you away.

The world comes rushing back all at once. The music has stopped, replaced by the murmur of shocked voices and the ringing in your ears. Everyone is staring at you, their faces a blur of surprise and judgment. Marcus is on the ground, blood trickling from his split lip, and presumably broken nose, looking at you with a mixture of rage, disbelief, and fear.

Your chest feels too tight, like someone's wrapped steel bands around your ribcage and is slowly tightening them. The weight of what you've just done crashes over you like a wave, threatening to pull you under. You need to get out—now.

You shoulder your way through the crowd, ignoring Henry calling your name, ignoring the whispers that follow in your wake. Someone tries to grab your arm, but you shake them off, focused solely on reaching the door. The cool night air hits your face like a slap when you finally burst outside, but you keep walking, your hands shaking as the adrenaline starts to wear off.

The crisp winter air hits you like a slap when you stumble outside, your breath forming small clouds in the freezing night.

“Wait!”

When did she get here?

"Let me see," Tara's voice cuts through your alcohol-induced haze, her hand reaching for yours with a familiarity that makes your head spin—or maybe you've had one too many of those orange drinks.

You thrust your hand toward her dramatically, wincing as the movement sends a spike of pain through your bruised knuckles.

"I totally got that incel good," you slur, a giggle bubbling up from somewhere deep and slightly unhinged. The ice beneath your feet seems to shimmer with your triumph.

Tara's fingers hover just above your hand, not quite touching but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. "You're going to need ice for that," she says, her tone caught between exasperation and something else—something softer.

"Ice, huh?" You look down at the ground, the irony not lost on you. 

With exaggerated precision, you bend down and scoop up a handful of snow, pressing it against your knuckles. The cold bites, but it's a welcome contrast to the burning anger and alcohol still coursing through your system.

"This works, right?" You look up at her, your eyes wide and slightly unfocused. The world tilts slightly, but Tara remains steady—an anchor in your spinning vision.

Something flickers in her eyes—amusement, maybe. "You're something else," she mutters, but there's no real bite to the words.

Emboldened by alcohol and adrenaline, you lean in closer. The words tumble out before you can stop them. "So… I never did get an answer to that proposal."

Tara goes very still. A smile begins to form, tentative and fragile as first light. 

She chuckles at your remark before shaking her head and scoffing to herself. "Sometimes I just don't get you," she says with a smile still etched on her face, but there's more complexity in those words than simple dismissal as she stares back into your eyes.

Confusion must show on your face because she looks away, the streetlight catching the curve of her cheek, the set of her jaw. You didn’t know what else to say so you just said the first thing that came to mind. 

“Merry birthday, Tar,” you said. 

She’s taken aback by this. She didn’t know what to say, yet still opened her mouth to respond. Maybe something would come to her, but before anything did—

"There you are!" Anika's voice cuts through the moment like a knife. Your car pulls up to the curb, engine running warm against the freezing air. "We need to get out of here before that guy calls the cops."

The moment dissolves. Tara takes a step back, creating distance that feels more emotional than physical. You're left standing there, snow melting between your fingers, the taste of unresolved everything burning at the back of your throat.

As you climb into the passenger seat, you catch one last glimpse of her in the side mirror—a silhouette, perfectly still and impossibly distant.

—

The drive home is mostly silent, broken only by the occasional sigh from Anika and the gentle humming of your car's engine. Your knuckles throb in time with your heartbeat, a steady reminder of your momentary loss of control. The adrenaline is wearing off now, replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and alcohol-induced wooziness that makes you slouch lower in your seat.

"You know," Anika finally says as she pulls into your shared apartment complex, "when I said you needed to be more social, starting another fight wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

You grunt in response, too busy focusing on the way the world is tilting slightly to form actual words. The drinks are hitting harder now that the excitement is over, making everything feel soft around the edges.

"Use your words," she chides, killing the engine. 

"Words are for people who don't punch assholes at parties," you mumble, fumbling with your seatbelt. The simple mechanism seems impossibly complex right now.

Anika reaches over to help you, her movements gentle despite her exasperated tone. "Come on, Rocky Balboa. Let's get you inside."

Getting up the stairs to your second-floor apartment proves to be an adventure. You insist you can do it yourself, but after the third time you miss a step, Anika wraps an arm around your waist and practically drags you up.

"I can walk," you protest, even as you lean heavily against her.

"Sure you can. Just like you can make rational decisions at parties, right?" 

You attempt to glare at her, but the effect is somewhat ruined when you stumble over your own feet. "He deserved it."

"Oh, I'm not arguing that point," Anika says, fishing her keys out of her purse while still supporting most of your weight. "Marcus Wheeler is definitely in the running for Biggest Douchebag of the Year. But maybe next time we could handle it without violence? You know, like adults?"

"Adulting is overrated," you declare as she manages to get the door open. "If I was a kid, I could just pull Tara's pigtails or something."

Anika steers you toward the kitchen, depositing you none too gently into one of the mismatched chairs around your small table. "Okay, first of all, that's not the approach to crushing on someone that you think it is. Second, stay put while I get the first aid kit."

You slump forward, resting your forehead against the cool surface of the table. "Not crushing," you mumble into the wood. "Just... emotionally compromised."

"Right," Anika calls from the bathroom, where you can hear her rummaging through cabinets. "And I'm just 'casually interested' in my hot girlfriend."

"That's different," you argue, lifting your head slightly. "You two are together. You’re attached to the hip—you don’t hide from each other."

"Ha! So you admit you were hiding!"

You let your head thunk back down onto the table. "I admit nothing. I was studying. Very intensely. In locations where certain people were statistically unlikely to appear."

Anika returns with the first aid kit and a bag of frozen peas, setting both on the table. "Sit up, you disaster. Let me see your hand."

You comply with a dramatic sigh, straightening in your chair and holding out your injured hand. Your knuckles are already starting to bruise, spots of purple blooming across the skin. There are a few small cuts, probably from where you caught Marcus's teeth.

"This might sting," Anika warns before dabbing at the cuts with an alcohol wipe. You hiss through your teeth but don't pull away. "So," she continues, her tone deceptively casual, "want to talk about what really happened back there?"

"Not particularly," you mutter, watching as she carefully cleans each cut. "Can we just chalk it up to temporary insanity and move on?"

"You punched a guy for talking shit about Tara." She applies antibiotic ointment with practiced efficiency. "That's not temporary insanity. That's feelings."

You try to pull your hand away, but she holds firm. "It's not— I just— He was being gross!"

"Mhmm." She wraps your knuckles in gauze with precise movements. "And the fact that it was about Tara specifically had nothing to do with your reaction?"

"I would have done the same for anyone," you insist, even though you both know it's a lie. "It's about basic human decency."

"Right. Basic human decency. That's why you've been moping around our apartment for two weeks, taking different routes, and muttering under your breath when you think I can't hear you."

Before you can form a suitably indignant response, your phone buzzes. Henry's face appears on the screen, caught mid-laugh at some long-ago hangout.

You put the call on speaker, feeling too exhausted to hold the phone. Henry's excited voice crackles through, bursting with energy.

"Holy shit! Are you okay? That was the most badass thing I've ever seen in my life!"

"I'm fine," you mutter, wincing as Anika presses a bag of frozen peas against your bruised knuckles. "Ow! Except for my so-called best friend trying to give me frostbite."

Anika's tone is no-nonsense. "Keep the ice on, or your hand will swell up like a balloon."

Henry can barely contain his excitement. "You should have seen Marcus's face after you left. He was completely shaken. I don't think anyone's ever stood up to him like that before."

You groan, tilting your head back. "Great. Now I'll be known as the crazy chick who starts fights at parties. That'll look amazing on my resume."

"Are you kidding? You're going to be a legend!" Henry starts, then suddenly there's a scuffle in the background.

"Am I on speaker?" you ask, suspicion rising in your voice.

"No!" Henry says simultaneously with another voice declaring, "Yes!"

You recognize the second voice immediately. "Henry James Martinez," you say, using his full name—knowing how much he hates it—"Are you and Tony back together?"

"No!" Henry protests. "His place flooded, and he needed a place to stay!"

"Sure thing, Hef," you chuckle, catching Anika's amused smile.

Tony's cheerful voice joins the conversation. "Hey, heard you knocked some douche on his ass for talking shit about your girlfriend. Nicely done."

"She's not my girlfriend," you respond quickly.

Henry can't resist. "Define girlfriend."

You're ready with a comeback. "Define sharing a living space with—"

"Uh oh, bad connection," Henry interrupts, and suddenly the line goes dead. Anika bursts into laughter.

“I’m gonna get you some aspirin,” Anika offered, patting your shoulder as she passed. “But just so you know that whole ‘emotionally compromised’ thing? Yeah, that’s basically the definition of crushing.”

You make an incoherent noise of protest into the table. 

"Oh, and by the way," Anika calls from the kitchen, "you're totally teaching me that right hook tomorrow. After your hangover wears off, of course."

You lift your head just enough to deadpan at her. 

"Love you too, champ. Now take your aspirin and go to bed before you fall asleep on the table. Again."

Not long after she went to her room, you stumble into the bathroom, hand throbbing and head spinning—the former a reminder of the night’s events. The light is harsh against your alcohol-fogged brain. The tile floor is cold beneath your bare feet as you stumble to the sink, turning on the water and splashing your face.

When you look up, he's there.

Your Uncle's bloody corpse stands behind you in the reflection, that familiar crooked smile that's always been more predatory than comforting. His appearance is exactly as you remember from old photographs—that slightly manic glint in his eye, the way he holds himself like violence is always just beneath the surface.

"Killer punch," he says, leaning against the bathroom wall. No greeting, no preamble. Just direct observation.

You don't jump but roll your eyes. "Go away," you mutter, gripping the sink's edge.

He chuckles—a sound that's more bark than laugh. "I saw myself in you tonight. That rage? That precise moment of calculated violence? Pure genetics that chose you."

"I'm nothing like you," you snap, turning to face him directly. The bathroom suddenly feels smaller.

He takes a step closer. "Oh, but you are. That moment when you heard those guys talking about your girl? That split second before the punch? That wasn't just anger. That was hunting instinct."

You close your eyes, trying to block him out. "I'm not a killer. I'm not you."

"Not yet," he says, and there's something almost proud in his voice. "But you've got the potential. I saw how you moved. How you calculated. How you knew exactly where to hit to cause maximum impact."

"My dad’s a professional pig," you counter. "It’s not like I attended murder school."

His laugh is sharp, brittle. "Call it what you want. But we both know there's something inside you. Something sharp. Something waiting."

The argument feels familiar—like every nightmare, every family gathering where his memory haunted the edges of conversation, their fear of the parallels you both held. You're tired of it. Tired of him.

"I'm going to bed," you declare, pushing past his spectral form.

He doesn't disappear immediately. Instead, his voice follows you. "We're not so different, you and me."

You pause at the doorway, not turning around, as your hand tightly grips the edges of the doorframe. "We're nothing alike." 

The silence that follows is answer enough.

As you crawl back into bed, the room feels normal again—just another night, just another internal argument with a ghost who refuses to stay buried.

But somewhere in the darkness, you can still feel him watching. Waiting.

-----------

A/N:

gobble, gobble

[brick-van-dyke]

Huh I forgot there's a lot of social justice on here, which is weird bc I started sj-ing from Tumblr so idk why I didn't just assume that obvs it still would be the same lol. I guess I was just so used to the popularity and mainstream-ness of Twitter that I forgot that Tumblr also could reach a lot of people and is a great way to write social commentary and fight for equality as well...

Maybe I should revive "NoahsNibNook" or formerly NoahSnzPolitics back on here? This time with a focus on not just politics but writing and such? I'm unsure. I'm also wondering if I should copy the trend from other writers of having the name I'd use when publishing a book + author in the format but idk. I still don't feel stable or secure enough irl to be out using my full name or anything when being so open with my political stuff.

[savage-rhi]

HEY.

Read the tags and leave a comment or DM if interested in helping! Thank you 💙

[lunaetis]

▸▸ [ @devourersofgods ( sunday ) || starter call. ]

─「エデン」─  " no matter how sweet the dream is, the truth that remains is that was all it was. a dream. not reality. " she saw, of course, people who escaped reality into the land of dreams, to achieve something they couldn't in real life. but running away from the TRUTH, could that really solve anything ? " would you really be okay with that ? sleeping forever, never opening your eyes again. and you — shouldering all the weight of everyone's dreams all alone ... " her eyes fell slightly. " it'd be heavy ... and lonely, wouldn't it ? "

[cherrygirlfriend]

bsf!rafe x ditzy!reader, just the tip

warnings: smut, mdni

wrote this while drinking the nastiest wine… hopefully this fic turned out better than the wine

rafe had never really seen you in a sexual way; you had always just been you, the girl he had known since he was 11. the two of you had been best friends since sixth grade, but when you went to college, your friendship fell apart.

but after your first year of college, you'd come back to the outer banks for the summer, and he'd rather die than miss out on the chance to invite you to a party.

what rafe hadn't expected was for you to walk up wearing a tiny light pink bikini with heart patterns, the rest of your body covered with a pink, sheer, robe. you were basically surrounded by guys wanting to talk to you, but honestly, all you wanted was to get away and be with people you knew.

rafe took hold of your waist, guiding you away from everyone else, a small smile on his face, your brows furrowing more and more when you got away from everyone else, his hips swaying in the same way as yours.

"what's up?" you asked with a small smile, his hand making small motions on your waist.

"just wanted to get you away. i know you get anxious in social situations." he said, looking at you like a predator looked at the most delicious of prey.

you don’t know when talking turned into kissing, but there you were, straddling rafe's hips, grinding into him without even realizing, his lips connected with yours, your touch driving him crazy, his causing you to go insane.

"i don't think we should be doing this…" you mumbled breathlessly when your lips finally disconnected, even though you were so wet you could feel it in your panties. rafe simply laughed, shaking his beautiful head.

"i want you so much…" he said, and you knew he was being truthful, his pupils blown wide as he looked at you, his lips swollen from all the kissing.

"rafe, we really should stop…"

"come on," he squeezed your hips, "you can feel how fucking hard i am for you, can't you? just lemme… let me just put in the tip."

and even though every part was telling you to pull away from him, you couldn't help it, his cock teasing your entrance, rafe running his cock along, pressing it against your clit when he found it.

you moaned when you finally felt the tip of his cock invade your pussy, and even though you knew it was a bad idea; friends didn't do this, you couldn't help yourself.

[will-o-wips]

Save the Villainess Thoughts by Willow Masterpost Part 1: Jane

So I've decided to be insane. Make a small (lies, it is long, that is why it is divided up into parts) post about the Halloween videos and the lore that they have given us. As well as maybe compile theories/thoughts about these characters. Idk if there is a community for this even, or if anybody's actually obsessed like I am, but I'm having fun thinking about it either way, so... I guess this is for like the 0.0000000000001% of the people (me and only me). Enjoy lmao.

You have been warned: the actual insanity starts under the cut lmao.

So I will start with... Jane. Mostly because her Halloween special video is not as lore-bomb-dropping as the rest. The video itself is mostly about certain aspects of the gameplay so far. It's a neat little thing! Honestly, these are more thoughts/rambles than actual, well, coherent notes, but from what I've noticed (from being insane and watching every single social media post on Tumblr Best Laid Plans Productions ever made about all of them, more or less, even though my memory is spotty and I didn't have time to rewatch them before making this), is that Jane is just unknowingly integrated in this world. I don't notice her having any thoughts about before she was transported into the romance novel she read; it's not like she's thinking about her family home, or that she has any plans of going back. She just knows she doesn't belong in this world as the villainess, which is super interesting to me. She's just... accepted her fate and that she must survive. She's BECOME the villainess, rather than just feeling like an imposter in another person's body. She only knows she's innocent, which is why she's fighting so hard to be freed from such a fate. Another thing that supports this is the fact Jane always says such weird phrases that I'm like 99% sure aren't actual English idioms, but rather phrases that this alternate romance novel universe uses. Such as "By the blood" in the Halloween special specifically, because, what does this mean Jane???? What are you referring to here!!! (Side note: Edmund also uses these odd phrases a lot, so I suppose it's something the nobility of Carcosa are familiar with; some kind of "noble language" to distinguish those of nobility from commoners or whatever. Some kind of pretentious thing that just happens because society is cruel lmao. Either that OR this is just the way Carcosians speak in general and Jane just kinda always knew this ever.)

Another thing, besides just the obvious announcements of how this guideline/tutorial thing works in the gameplay, is the fact that Jane explicitly states that daytime and nighttime are important. Most people would sign this off to, well, gameplay experience. That during the night you can talk to people more intimately and have like rendezvous or whatever with your favourite characters, while at daytime you're solving mysteries mostly. See the thing with that is, is that Servant also somewhat says very similar things in previous instances of videos. And we all know that Servant is like... that one person that gives everyone the creeps, the intrigue and also the insanity. They are, as of now, the most explicit in the fact they are somewhat of a mastermind behind this all. They know what is happening with the lore. They know, but they don't like explicitly telling us what is happening, so... yeah thanks ig Servant? In each case, Jane here is not joking when she says that nighttime and daytime are important; they're probably very much so magically (maybe?) linked to how this story is supposed to progress. Aka gameplay actually impacts lore, and lore impacts gameplay. As to what it is referring to... well, I have my theories about it. But what I'm most confident in is that it is related to some kind of magic about the story. It is relevant to the narrative; relevant to things both Ben and Servant know about this world. And I say Ben because he's also so sus in such a world-altering way but I'll talk about him later... yeah, later lmao.

Now, my notes that I took while watching the videos here are very vague (thank you for that Willow, you are so insane about this you cannot even write in proper English), but there's something about the jewelry and accessories of these characters. Most noticeably, the way they glow. Like Rhythmically Glowing and Shaking. In Jane's case, it's her earrings [her brooch is less important but it still has symbolism on it probably, with how it has a bee etched onto it. Maybe this is her family's like symbol? Like how Renaissance Pope families had different kinds of symbols etched into buildings they funded into existence and all. Who knows]. Maybe this is some kind of glint effect or whatever; but then why is it animated like THAT??? Idk if I'm onto something or not here, I have high suspicions that I am, but maybe I'm also just looking into it too deeply... but there's something wrong with this jewelry. There's something wrong with the way that Servant's Brooch also glows, whenever Edmunds (tie clips? cufflinks for your neck??? what are they I'm not good with fashion, though the game has such good fashion design guys okay) accessories start glowing and shaking, when Izel has his little gem earring (I love that design omg, also + the brooch he has on his tie but like it doesn't shake) shakes and glows as well and how Ben's POCKET WATCH CHAIN (+ the little uhh buttons on his coat but they don't shake the way the other things do) IS GLOWING OKAY (and yes I'm insane enough to pause these videos just to see whether it is true). Something is going on. It's happening (slightly) even during daytime, and I checked this, so there's something fishy with this. There has to be. I'm so convinced there is jfkldsjfks. A possible explanation for this is that because these characters are all main actors in the story, some kind of magic is there to maybe,,, force them to play their part? Maybe they cannot be exempted from the main storyline because of this? Maybe everybody is just here because they have no other choice? Honestly idk. More thoughts on this in the other parts because dude I'm gonna lose my mind if I try to put everything in here. AND MAYBE IT'S JUST AN ARTISTIC CHOICE AND I'M JUST INSANE ABOUT IT??? Who knows.

Anyway, to close off this post, because I know it is long and idk whether there's actually any substance here, I'll try to compile the thoughts about Jane into a few small sentences, without fangirling in between lmao.

She's lovely, and while she is very funny, I find her harder to pin down than the rest of the cast (that we know of as of writing this). She's dead set on surviving, and that's probably because she might have experienced death once already. Either as the Villainess Jane Neville herself, or as the person she (possibly) used to be, that we know absolutely nothing of. She does not show any other hints to her past: just constantly assuring us she desperately needs help. I love her, of course, not only for her character design or the fact that she's funny, but for the fact that she somehow manages to avoid telling us anything concrete about herself. I don't think that this is done because Jane is not a character and is supposed to be a player-insert (that may play a part in it but y'know, that's just the nature of these kinds of games to a degree); she very much so is a character. She knows these phrases and these small courtesy things that no normal person who WASN'T integrated into this fantasy world would know. Maybe she retained only some of the past memories that her villainess self had, but truly... how could she remember those, but not her fiancé? Not the novel she is in? How can she know she is the villainess with certainty, at all, given she does not remember the book, the plot of said book, nor any of the other characters that well? She only knows someone is out to kill her, and that we must save her. Her weird integration with the world as well as the dissonance she presents with it at the same time is suspicious; she's very mysterious in that regard.

Perhaps I'm biased. Maybe I'm not looking hard enough. It might be that I'm missing something entirely. Somehow my suspicion/theory, even to me, feels like it's somewhat misplaced. That something is up is clear, but whether there's evidence to support anything is a whole other thing.

But somehow I'm inclined to believe that... Jane is not as forgetful as she might think she is. And that whatever happens to her by the choice of the player (who you romance, what kind of ending you get, what kind of choices you make, how you survive based on your deductions in the mystery, etc.), it always will tie into something she wanted to be. That us controlling her to a certain kind of destiny, is something she wanted to be, but never got the chance to be.

That we might guide her towards a destiny she actually deserved, rather than the one she has gotten.

[ Lmao I have so many more thoughts about what exactly makes a villainess but like... if the LIs/ROs/MLs or whatever you call them are all deconstructions and reconstructions of their specific tropes... Then isn't Jane also one? Shouldn't she be, at least? If she never was a villainess, then what makes her be one? If she was a villainess, what changes should she undergo in order to become a hero? And if she is neither... Or cannot remember whether she is clearly... What truly discerns her as a villainess?

I have so many more thoughts and theories about these people that I have to cover later because otherwise I'd have been sitting here for 2 hours trying to write all of this down somewhat understandably. If I actually had a plan for like any type of structure I might've not lost so much time on it. Will try to do that when it comes to the rest and all. Might also opt for smaller paragraphs lmao I genuinely hope I'm not overstepping something by doing this??? If the developers see this and go like "okay maybe don't", I'll take it down fjkdsjfklds. It's not like I'm dead set on sharing this if it's for whatever reason not good for business or something. ANYWAY THIS IS GETTING ABSURDLY LONG. Hope you enjoyed my rambles; until next time for the rest of them! ]

[moremaybank]

PROMISE ME , rafe cameron

── KINKTOBER: THIGH RIDING

"you stay with me, 'cause nobody fuck you better." — kiana ledé, promise me.

rafe cameron x bsf!reader

(18+) thigh riding, dirty talk, slight nipple play

cheating on your boyfriend is so wrong, but rafe makes it feel so right

KINKTOBER , OBX MASTERLIST

"back already, huh? thought i gave it to you good this morning?"

you shoved his tall figure backward, watching hims tumble back a few steps closer to the foot of his bed. "shut up. take your clothes off."

you pulled your shirt up and over your head, tossing it onto the floor without a second thought. you were halway through tugging your shorts down when you noticed that rafe hadn't moved a muscle. he was just standing there with that stupid, obnoxious smirk he wore all the damn time. his buff arms were crossed over his chest, and his tongue poked out to wet his lips.

you arched a brow, halting your movements. "what?"

"no. please?" he took a step closer to you. "like, 'm i jus a sex doll to you or somethin'? or...wait, wait— lemme guess. he's small. he can't hit that spot that makes you go all dumb, huh? s’okay, princess. you can tell me."

classic. always so desperate to bring up your boyfriend when you were clearly in search of what he couldn't give you. what he knew he could give you. maybe he just liked the reminder that you still needed him. no, he definitely liked it.

"just take your clothes off, rafe."

all he could do was let out a chuckle, shaking his head in exasperation as he shrugged his shirt off. he let you shove at his chest again, willingly falling back onto his bed. he rose up onto his elbows, watching you climb on top of him and settle in a straddle in his lap. you reached for his belt buckle, nimble fingers working at it swfitly to free his cock.

"you should've taken this shit off," you complained, yanking down his zipper extra harshly to to show your annoyance.

"think you're gettin' too brave wi'me."

"then do something about it instead of talking my damn ear off."

his hand gripped your throat, tightening and cutting off your air supply just slightly as he drew you closer to his face. "watch it, a'ight? you want somethin' from me, then you gotta goddamn ask for it. nicely. you don't jus' storm in here 'n start makin' demands." his warm breath fanned over your cupid's bow when he spoke, and his eyes didn't leave yours. "what'd i teach you, huh? what d'you need?"

he knew what you needed. why else would you have driven yourself over to tannyhill in the middle of the night? and why else would your heated cunt be throbbing in his lap?

if he had to guess, he'd say you were already wet.

needy girl.

he also knew that when he put his foot down, you'd immediately fall into line because that's how bad he'd gotten you hooked. you could throw your little tantrums all you wanted, 'casue in the end, you'd still end up following his every word and instruction just to hear a simple good girl fall from his lips.

"need your cock, daddy."

he tilted his head expectantly, clearly not satisfied. "you forgettin' somethin'?"

your shoulders sagged. "please, daddy? been thinkin' about you all day. need you." you hated how quickly the words flew out of your mouth. but still, you sulked at him, knowing it would earn you some brownie points. rafe had always had a thing for that innocent look you reserved only for him.

rafe thumbed at your lower lip. "see? was that so hard?" his hand released your throat, and trailed down your sternum. his fingers dipped behind the middle part of your bra, and he pulled at it. "y'wanna take this off f'me?"

you nodded, your hands reaching behind your back in an instant to unhook your bra. you let it fall to the floor, before turning back to rafe. his hands slid up your body until he was cupping your breasts in both hands. his warmth elicited goosebumps all over your flesh, and you shivered. your nipples perked up underneath his touch and he was quick to start rolling them between his fingers. 

you released a sigh of relief, feeling like your world has snapped back into focus now that he was touching you. your hands found his shoulders, and you held onto them as a reminder that he was really there.

rafe's heated touch travelled down to the top of your panties, letting his hand cup your pussy over the flimsy lace of your underwear. his blue eyes peered up at yours. "you fuck him today, doll?"

you shook your head desperately, rolling your hips against the heel of his palm pitifully. all you wanted was one taste of pleasure, and yet, he was still being difficult.

as always.

"no? why not? but he didn't wait for your response. instead, he answered his own question for you. "'cause you know i'm better."

you couldn't bring yourself to answer. all you could think about was how close his fingers were getting to your dripping entrance. it was already spasming as it awaited intrusion. but he grabbed a hold of your face, forcing you to open your eyes and obey him.

"say it," he demanded. "say i'm better."

"you're better, daddy."

"fuckin' love it when you call me that, baby. but i can't jus' let you get what you want, can i?" he bit into his lower lip, staring a hole into your perfect mouth. his wide palms curled around your hips, and he eased you onto one of his thighs. he used his hold on you to guide you back and forth against the tough muscle. you faltered slightly at the pressure against your hungry bundle of nerves. "need you to show me how bad you want it."

"but, rafe─"

"shh," he said, placing the pad of your index finger against your lips to shut you up. "want you to cum once before i fuck you."

"what? why?" you questioned, confusion clear on your face. why wasn't he jumping on the chance to fuck you like he usually did?

"'cause i'm tryna remind you that i don't even need to touch you to make you cum."

it was nearly infuriating, the way things like that could just roll off his tongue so naturally. like he didn't know how much they really pricked at your skin and made your heart jackhammer in your chest. now this would go on to haunt you forever ─ the thought that rafe would bring you to such a heavenly release without laying a single finger on you. meanwhile, your boyfriend was doing a lousy job at arousing you.

"so, you gonna be good for me or what?" his fingers tapped at your hipbones as he awaited your reply.

but what else could you do besides follow his every command like he was some sort of god?

you started to move, gyrating your hips against the tough ripples of muscle. you couldn't stop the whimper from falling past your lips when the consistent pleasure thrummed inside you. you could feel rafe's scorching gaze on you, watching every single twitch and quiver in your expressions as you quelled the hunger your cunt felt in his absence.

"my obedient girl," he spoke lowly, lust threading through his voice. "you're so fuckin' good for me. makes me wonder why you even bother with that asshole."

"rafe, don't," you warned. he knew that despite your actions, you constantly carried the guilt of cheating atop your shoulders. you didn't need the reminder, especially when you were so desperate to drown in him, in your escape.

"why not, huh?" he leaned into the crook of your neck, teeth grazing down the length of it until he reached your collarbone. he sucked on it, nipping at the flesh and revelling in the noise that leaves your lips. "'cause that pussy gets wet at the thought of betrayin' him, right?"

"rafe, shut up─"

but then his fingers forced themselves into your mouth, effectively gagging you and leaving you babbling around them. the low drawl in his voice weakened your knees when he spoke, "don't gotta deny it, doll."

he started to bounce his knee in time with your movements, and you cried out as the pleasure spiked, already nearing release due to his filthy mind. "even when you find someone, you come back 'n fuck me. you cum for me." he snickered evilly, "this pussy knows what she wants. stop fightin' her on it."

[talaok]

Giving up

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Coaxing your neighbor into having sex with you although he's unsure since he's much, much older than you

Warnings: big ass unspecified age-gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie Smut| unprotected piv, crempie, insicure!joel, sub!joel, also my man has trouble lasting cause he's not done this in a very long time.

a/n:i needed to write some cheesy romantic stuff, and maybe it doesn't really make all that sense in this story and maybe i cried while writing this cause no one is ever gonna love me like this but so what bitch leave me alone (i also am i lil tipsy as i proofread this, so ignore any mistakes pls)

Part 1

"did you do something to your hair?"

Tommy was standing on Joel's doorstep, looking at him as if he were an alien.

"I washed 'em" he grumbled, "what do you want?"

His brother couldn't help but huff out a laugh

"someone's in a good mood today"

"I've gotta be somewhere, just tell me what you want"

Tommy's interest was only piqued more.

there stood his brother, his clothes perfectly clean- maybe even ironed- his hair... styled, his beard trimmed...

something was definitely going on.

"Where are you going?"

Joel rolled his eyes now, shooting his little brother a death glare

"none of your business"

Oh he knew what was going on...

"Who is she?"

"Tommy-"

"Is it Jessica? I bet 's Jessica, she's always flirting with you you ol' dog-"

Joel swore he was gonna punch him- he was already running late because of how long he took to pick his clothes- finding a flannel that wasn't completely worn out turned out to be real fucking hard.

He felt stupid for how much effort he'd put into getting ready, he felt stupid for how anxious he was, but most of all... he wanted his brother to go away.

"There ain't no one, Tommy- now, if there ain't anything you need, please go-"

But just then- just when he was finally going to get rid of him, your sweet, soft voice made its way to his ears.

"Hi Joel! Hi Tommy!" You smiled from your porch, waving your hand at him and his brother "You didn't forget about today, did you Joel?"

What in the actual fuck?

Tommy did a double-check, looking between you and his brother, and when he finally confirmed that it was actually him you were talking to, you whom he'd gotten all dolled up for, he couldn't do anything but let out a slow, long breath.

"No I didn't- I'll be there in a minute, darlin'!" Joel was answering you as his brother regained his ability to speak

"well... Fuck. Me" he was in awe, his voice barely a murmur

"it ain't like that" Joel was quick to intervene "'m just fix-"

"'m sure it ain't" Tommy let out a chuckle, his hand going to pat his brother's back "You fucking lucky bastard"

"Tommy I know she's young bu-"

"shut up man" he laughed "Just go have fun, you asshole"

__ __

"Sorry 'm late, Tommy was just-"

You smiled at his words, shaking your head

"It's ok, Joel" you cooed as you let him in,

He gave you a soft little smile, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Joel Miller didn't smile just at anyone.

"water?" you asked, leading him to the kitchen.

"Uhm- sure"

His heart was damn near beating out of his chest already- for no fucking reason at all.

Well except the obvious one... you'd sucked his dick and he'd eaten you out three days ago- and you'd made it clear you wanted more.

Jesus Christ, he felt like a fourteen-year-old with his first crush.

You watched him as he sipped on the glass.

"So?" a soft smirk was caged between your teeth "Did you think about it?"

He damn near choked.

Which didn't make any sense, he was expecting this, he already knew you'd ask.

He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes from you "I-I have"

"And?"

You'd gotten closer, your expectant eyes studying every inch of his face

pleasepleasepleaseplease say yes

"Did- didn't you have something that needed fixing?"

Oh for fuck's sake

"joel" you called for him in what almost sounded like a plead.

"darlin' just... lemme fix your cabinet first"

This man was gonna be the goddamn death of you.

"ok"

__ __ __

As it turns out, in many different ways.

Who knew watching him fix something would turn out to be so fucking hot?

He'd rolled his shirt up so that his strong forearms and a glimpse of his beautiful bite-worthy biceps were showing, his hands moved so very expertly that they couldn't help but bring back memories of what those same fingers had done to you just a few days ago, and his face... he looked so hot when he was all in his head, concentrated only on the task before him-

or so you thought.

"You're gonna stare at me the whole time?"

A soft laugh escaped your lips

"don't mind me- just enjoying the view"

He huffed out a laugh as he went back to work, but you couldn't help but notice the fact he pushed his sleeves ever further up his arms, giving you more of a view of his delectable skin.

What a tease

__ __ __

"there we go" he said after some time, opening and closing the cabinet one final time to make sure "all done"

For the record, this time you hadn't even done it on purpose, the cabinet had actually broken. It was like fate was sending you a message.

You awakened from your daydreams as he stood up to his full height, and hopped off the stool you were sitting on to walk closer to him, noticing some dampness in your panties while doing so...

It wasn't your fault... he was the one looking way too hot doing such a simple task.

"thank you" You smiled up at him, your hands going to his chest,

He held his breath for a moment

"'s nothing babygirl"

"yeah? then... you think you could check my bedroom too?" you were biting your lip in a way that made your question take on a whole different meaning "to make sure nothing needs fixing y'know?"

"In your... bedroom?"

"yes, Joel- please" you added, with your best innocent doe eyes.

Which of course made him fold in a matter of seconds.

You'd taken on a different tactic. It was obvious at this point that the man was too shy and too unsure to give you an answer (or the one you wanted to hear anyway), which is why you needed to present him with the actual possibility right in front of him.

And yeah maybe it was manipulative, but fuck it if you didn't wanna feel the man inside of you.

The flashbacks of what he did to you on that bed filled his mind the moment he stepped into the room.

He needed to get a grip or he wouldn't be able to hide his growing bulge in a minute.

"Everything seems right"

"yeah? 'm not sure about the bed" you hummed, desperately hoping he would just go along with it "it makes a weird sound when I get on it"

He turned to you then, his eyes locking with yours for an infinite second.

"try" you said finally, nodding to the bed.

He watched you for a moment longer before, surprising you, he did it- he sat on the bed.

The mattress creaked underneath his weight, and you made quick work of strolling closer to him as he pressed his palms on the bed, checking for the inexistent "weird sound"

"it don't look like there's anythin' wron-" he looked up the moment your hands found his shoulders "Whatcha doin'? sweethear-"

You were sat on his lap before he could even finish the sentence.

"Joel" you spoke his name softly, as if it were a caress, your hands slowly moving up and down from his shoulders to his pecs, as you finally scooted closer to him so your core was right against the hardness in his jeans-

He inhaled sharply, his fingers curling on the bed.

"would you like to have sex with me or not?"

You accentuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, grinding onto him and making a soft groan build inside his throat

"this- this ain't really fair sugar"

A smirk pulled at your lips as you lowered your head to whisper in his ear "I never said I didn't play dirty, Mr. Miller"

Your right hand trailed lower, moving down his belly so slowly that Joel thought he might just lose his mind.

"You're y-young baby-"

Your hand had found his crotch, the outline of his dick fitting in your hand oh so perfectly.

"we've gone over this already Joel, I'm old enough" you purred, your lips leaving a peck just below his ear "old enough to do many many things"

He cursed under his breath

"I just... I don't understand"

A breathy laugh escaped you

"there's not much to understand really" you murmured "You're hot, and I like you, and I wanna get in your pants"

That earned you a chuckle

"and you're sure you won't regret this?" he asked, "you sure this is what you really want- that- that you don't want to give a boy your age a chance instead of me?"

You smiled as you looked up at him,

you'd never met a man so sweet

"Joel, I promise you I'm sure" you whispered "I promise you this is what I want, you are what I want"

Fucking damn it

How could he ever say no after that?

With those gentle eyes of yours looking at him, with your hand right over his cock...

"So?"

He was gonna think about the consequences tomorrow. Now- now there was only you.

"yes"

That single word sounded better than any song you'd ever heard.

yes

Your lips were on his before he could even think of changing his mind- and god did they feel like a dream.

His soft stubble grazed against your cheeks and upper lip, as you deepened the kiss, as he opened up to you, closing his eyes only after he'd taken you in, only after he could admire all that was happening to him for some godforsaken reason.

A growl rumbled from his chest when your core found his dick again, grinding onto it in a way, that combined with the way your tongue was tasting every inch of him, was making him see stars.

He didn't think he'd kissed like this in 30 years,

making out seemed like such a distant thing from him, he was much too old to do something like this, and yet... everything about you made him feel like a teenager all over again, so perhaps it was fitting-

and god he had forgotten how amazing it felt.

You started undoing his flannen, not even dreaming of breaking the kiss, and once you opened his shirt up, once his big strong chest was right there before you, you just had to look at it.

You leaned away, his lips chasing yours making you smile as your gaze lowered.

Jesus, he was the hottest man you'd ever seen.

Some hair and freckles adorned his pecs, his little belly was ever so cutely fighting against his jeans- his skin was soft beneath your palms as they explored every inch they could reach.

He was looking at you, watching your blow-out eyes, wondering what potion you'd drank to be this mesmerized by what he had to offer.

You smiled once you caught him, leaning closer to leave a quick kiss on his lips.

"take off your clothes"

You got off of him, and once he saw you get rid of your shirt, your boobs pushed together by a simple black bra that somehow, at the moment, seemed like the sexiest thing in the world, he rushed to follow suit, nearly tripping getting off his pants.

The moment he looked at you again, the world- the universe, it all went quiet.

You stood naked before him, a soft, perfect little thing, looking like a damn dream.

"babygirl" he could only breathe as you reached him again.

"What?" you laughed

"I-I don't even know"

You shook your head, grinning from ear to ear as he pressed his mouth on yours again.

He was already addicted.

In a haze, you found yourself on the bed, your body caged beneath his, his tongue fighting with yours, his hands all over- You almost had the urge to laugh at how desperate he seemed, how frantically he was touching every inch of you, exploring every piece of skin-

His hands were on your tits, fingers gently playing with your nipples, then on your belly, your waist, your ass, your thighs, until finally, he found your core, but before he had the time to fully reach it you'd switched up with him, straddling his lap as he laid flat on his back... only he couldn't keep away for even a second and he immediately sat up, grabbing your waist.

He couldn't even begin to complain that you'd already grabbed his cock, positioning it at your entrance.

You couldn't wait anymore- you needed him now.

"Wait-" he murmured, his breathing labored already "you sure you're... y'know ready?"

Oh my god, you swore you were gonna fall for him if he kept this shit up.

"Joel" you smiled, looking into his big brown eyes "I've been wet since you fixed the cabinet"

"I-" he blushed "You-you sure?"

You didn't answer him, you simply took one of his hands in yours and guided him to feel just how much you were telling the truth.

"Fuck"

"yeah" you smirked "that's just what you do to me, Mr. Miller"

Jesus fuck

Joel didn't think his cock had ever been so hard.

You didn't give him time to do or say anything- he'd gathered that's how you did things by now- as you slowly, oh so very slowly, started sinking onto him.

He was big, the kind of big you'd be feeling tomorrow morning. The stretch hurt just right, so overwhelmed by the unadulterated pleasure that it was barely there.

Soft little moaned gasps spilled from your lips with every inch added, your eyes were closed, only focusing on the extraordinary feeling as your nails clawed at Joel's chest.

Until, finally- you'd done it. You were fully sat on his cock, and while your eyelids fluttered open, you regained your ability to hear- to hear the curses leaving Joel's mouth between ragged breaths

"Jesus Christ- Jesus fucking Christ- Goddamnit"

His grip on your waist was so tight you were sure it was gonna leave a bruise... not that you were complaining.

"you ok?"

His eyes were shut close and creases of effort filled his forehead, while his chest went up and down as he desperately tried to breathe.

"Joel?"

He swallowed tightly, now breathing in through his nose before exhaling from his mouth.

"d-don't move"

You smiled as you promised "I won't"

God this was fucking embarrassing.

He'd spent three days training.

And yes he wasn't sure he would have said yes, but still, better safe than sorry- except for the fact it clearly hadn't worked.

He had spent three days fucking his own fist and trying to last as much as possible and he did do progress... but this... this was fucking nothing like what he'd felt in the last twenty years.

He was so fucked

"I-I'm sorry" he gritted out, sounding almost defeated "I- I haven't done this in a long time darlin'"

"And you... you feel so fuckin' good- fuck"

Your walls had inadvertently squeezed around him at his words, making a groan rumble in his chest.

"You have nothing to apologize for Joel"

he would have told you that your voice was making everything worse if he weren't so preoccupied with trying to calm his dick down.

"take all the time you need"

And so he did, his eyes remained closed as he breathed through the initial shock, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, he was back.

He had to stifle a moan once he opened his eyes back up.

There you were, your beautiful eyes trained on his with such gentleness and care that it made where his gaze fell to feel even more sinful.

Your boobs were barely touching his chest, and yet they could have been in his face for the effect they had on him- his hands were on your waist, holding onto your soft flesh, your thighs were straddling his lap, giving him no choice but to finally look between your bodies, where you two connected.

"Darlin'" he murmured, hypnotized

You smiled, watching him admiring you in silence

"You look..."

Every word that came to mind wasn't enough, you were otherwordly, you were perfection... so he just settled on the simplest, and perhaps truest of them all.

"you're beautiful"

Your cheeks burned with heat as his gaze came back to yours.

"so are you, Joel"

And that was that.

His lips found yours again, and you couldn't stop your hips as they started moving, rocking back and forth and bringing little waves of ecstasy to your core.

A desperate moan spilled from yours to Joel's mouth as he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you into an even deeper kiss as he started following your movements.

Your hands went to the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair at the nape of it as you finally started bouncing on his dick, and god- god it was even better than you could have ever imagined

The loudest growl sounded from his throat as you worked yourself up and down on his shaft.

He was in another universe, his actions were only reflexes as the hand not tangled in your hair found your tits and then your ass, grabbing at it with tenderness and need.

"Oh Joel" you cried, his dick filling you up better than anything ever before.

You could quite literally feel him in your stomach, every little vein and ridge of skin creating a permanent dent inside of you that only he was ever gonna be able to fill.

"sweetheart- fuck" he groaned on his own, your breaths mixing as you ghosted each other's mouths, his eyes raking over your body and face, while yours couldn't help but roll to the back of your head as his manhood hit a particularly good spot.

"You feel so- good Joel" you whimpered mindlessly, now quickening your pace, desperation taking over you completely.

the sound of him entering your drenched core mixed with the bed creaking underneath you as you drove yourself closer and closer to heaven.

The sound of his name falling from your lips was something that filled Joel's chest with an indescribable feeling, he felt on top of the word, and at the same time... at the same time he wished it had never left your mouth because it was now forever imprinted in his brain, and he knew nothing was ever gonna compare to it.

Oh and also- also it was making his little lasting problem real fucking hard to control.

But he was nothing if not a gentleman,

You were gonna come, he wasn't gonna have it any other way.

His hand lowered down your belly as you kept chasing your release, looking like a damn glimpse of paradise, until his thumb found your clit.

"Oh fuck" you moaned, your eyes snapping open to look at him- a dark glaze of lust shading your iris.

Joel realized too late that he hadn't taken into account how fucking tight you'd get, and was now really paying the consequences.

Plus when you looked at him like that... maybe just this one time he could not be a gentleman- I mean it's not like he had much choice, he was trying his hardest but- shit

"darlin'" he mumbled, his thumb circling your bud "w-where do ya- where do ya want it?"

You moaned louder just at the thought of him coming

"Inside"

It wasn't even a question

"N-no sweetheart I-I shouldn-"

"Joel" you interrupted him, your lips grazing his as you talked, your grip on his hair tightening "I want you to fill me up until I can feel you leaking out of me for days"

Good Christ and heaven

"Fuck me" he cursed, all his strength going on not coming right there and then "Darlin' please- tell me you're close"

You were already seeing stars as he spoke

"I'm close, baby- oh fuck" you cried "Joel!"

A tsunami of lust-filled pleasure coursed through your veins as your orgasm hit like a damn truck.

You couldn't even remember your name as you screamed his own into the thick air, as you moaned and cried and spasmed around him, feeling him do exactly what you'd asked- filling you up to the very brim.

He'd started coming the moment you did- he couldn't do anything about it, it was just unadulterated perfection-

His head fell between your neck and shoulders as groaned like a man possessed,

until finally, after a good three minutes, you were both back to the land of the living.

He looked twenty years younger when he looked at you again, and you- you looked like the most beautiful woman on earth.

A soft smile pulled at your lips, and you couldn't help but ask "How long before we can do it again?"

And fuck him, but his age didn't matter, with those eyes of yours, it might very well be minutes.

@kluvspedro @bluebiyou @casssiopeia @bean-is-reading @millerispunk @i-cant-stfu

[notspiders]

he's drunk :/

On the Reverse Trope being "Too hot to cuddle".

General Warnings: Mostly fluff. Crackfic(if that's the term?)/Shits and giggles. I dunno what I'm doing. I should be studying for finals but I can't be arsed. Lemme vomit this out real quick. Characters may act out of character, poor grammar is likely. Cussing in the warnings.

~~~~

Simon Riley is drunk.

Johnny is half-supporting him, half-guiding him as he drags the giant, hulking mass into the apartment at the dead of the cold, winter night, and helps him sit down on the bed. "Aye bonnie, aw the best!" "Thanks Johnny!"

Thanks Johnny indeed. You're now trying to think of what to do with your husband.

Water has already been given. It- along with the whiskey he's drank over the night- is sloshed all over his sorry mask. You'd tug it off but you know that even drunk, Simon is very stubborn of taking it off and you're not wishing to lose your fingers any time soon.

So you move on to step two: Making him lie down.

"Simon..." You coo. "It's your bedtime, let's get you down-" You reach forward.

"Keep yer hands off me."

"Eh?"

"Only m' missus can touch me."

"I am your wife, you dumbarse."

"You're too pretty."

"..."

"..."

"Baby, please you need to rest..."

He suddenly slumps on the pillow.

Okay. Great. This is wonderful. You're not complaining or questioning why he's suddenly compliant. What matters is that he's listening.

In return for his compliance, he's gonna get cuddles. This is a win- win! He's a living heater. You're cold. Sleepy. Cranky that you're even awake in the first place, and you're going to dive right into bed with him and-

Why is he getting up?

"Simon? What are you-"

"'m not gonna sleep with you."

"Why?"

"Not m' missus."

"But I am!"

"Nuhuh."

He slept on the couch that night.

[wonryllis]

⠀⠀⠀⠀[⠀谷. ) ᨓ ENHYPEN ADMIRING THEIR 𝒢IRL !

. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖽.

﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ enhypen lovesick over the simple things you do. fem!r. fluff, and so soft. wordcount` 635. アーカイブ ACHRIVE?

PLS REBLOG!!!!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 when you're talking; the way your lips move and the way your voice sounds, these are two things lee heeseung could never get over. he just cannot help but fix his eyes on your mouth shaping letters, so lost and so dazed. you might think he's not listening to exactly what you are speaking of but no, he is. every word and every tone behind it, the most interesting thing in the world. in his world full of everything about you.

"yes baby, i'm always listening, i love to."

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 when you're eating; the little expressions you make and the tiny little sounds that leave you are heaven for him. he could live his entire life making you what you love to eat and sit infront of you to watch you stuff your face full of it. the way sometimes you'd smear some on your cheeks or your lips and just wait, leaving it for him to wipe it away with his thumb or kiss it off because you just love it so much everytime he does it.

"you're so cute, i could watch you forever,"

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 when you're tying up your hair; the hottest thing you could ever do is put your hairtie between your lips and tilt your head back to gather your hair in a pony, neck stretched and inviting. it is a sight on paradise and jake swears he'll die a thousand times to see it. in a trance he is trapped and helpless watching you seduce him every single time and then squeal away when he leaves a little peck at the base of your neck.

"fuck can you do that again, please?"

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 when you're putting on makeup; he absolutely loves sitting around and watching you doll up, or just see your fingers glide against your face like a creep. taking out his phone to click cute candids of you curling your hair, putting on ribbons and braids or record little videos of you putting on your lipgloss, zooming in on the applicator gliding against the plump of your lips, making it look shiny and so so kissable. he goes crazy.

"is it cherry? lemme give you a kiss, pretty,"

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢 when you're laughing; the sound of your laughter, the little giggles and the big snorts, sunoo is in badshit love with everything. he lives to make you so happy you cannot think about anything but laughing your lungs out at something funny or giggling to hide the sweetness and shyness you feel at his words. to see your eyes light up, your smile turning into tiny sounds of excitement sunoo can never move on.

"the sound of your happiness is my favorite thing,"

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 when you're asleep; the vulnerability and softness your features hold when you are passed out makes him feel so giddy, jungwon just cannot stop staring at how cute and peaceful you look. the little snores you let out are his favorite thing in the world. your hair falling over your eyes and lips, breath dulcet and cozy. he loves tucking the strands away, grazing your cheeks and leaving fleeting kisses all over, pulling you closer to him.

"how do you look so pretty even when you're sleeping?"

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 when you're checking out your outfit; putting on different dresses and twirling around in front of the mirror (and him), stopping to check your reflection in store windows and mirrors, riki does not know or understand why he feels so insane in love watching you do all that but he knows he looks at you all gogo gaga when you do it. sitting on the bed and helping you decide which outfit you look better in while his mind is all fuzzy.

"you look like a princess, my pretty princess."

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries @ms-no1kpopstan

[ddejavvu]

mean! logan fucking his girl while holding her in a headlock 🤤🤤🤤

Logan Howlett x Reader

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. mean!logan, manhandling, he has reader in a headlock, don't like don't read.

Your nose gets pushed into the sheets over and over again, and you're sure it'll be raw later, but not as raw as your cunt. Or your neck, which Logan has in an impressive chokehold. His biceps are bulging as he holds you both up on his elbows, your neck securely pinched between his bicep and his forearm as he pins you to his chest.

He's grunting like a rabid animal, teeth bared beside your ear as he fucks your cunt mercilessly from behind. His hips slap against your ass at the same frequency that your face is slammed into the mattress, and you can barely moan before your tongue hits the sheets.

"Logan-" You wheeze, clawing at his arm for purchase, begging for respite from the crick quickly forming in your neck as Logan holds you in place.

"Where you goin', huh? Stay put," He growls, arm tightening around your throat- not to cut off your oxygen but to fizzle out the weak writhing that you've started up on the bed. Your movements are only making things inconvenient for him, and he holds you steady so that he can continue driving his cock into your hole.

"Logan, I want-" Your protests crumble into a whimper, Logan's bulk caging you in as you writhe uselessly against his strength. There's nothing to be done- he's infinitely stronger than you and he's decided that today you'll move how he wants you to move- you'll be fucked how he wants you to be fucked.

"Shut up," He snarls, bracing more of his weight on your torso so that you sink further into the mattress, "Just fuckin- wait, wait 'til I'm done with you and then you can move around however you want. I'll give you a mouthful'uh my dick if you just wait, shit- make it easy for me, baby, just lemme have you like this."

"Take me, Logan. Take me- have me however you want me," You whine, taking a sudden burst of pride in going limp in his arms: you'll be his perfect little fuckdoll. You'll let him use your hole to get off, and then you'll get to clean him up afterwards. You know your safeword by heart and right now it's the last word you'd ever dare to utter, not when Logan's hitting that delicious spot inside of you that makes your legs tremble.

He snickers, voice suddenly clearer and darker, "You're a fighter. S'funny watchin' you squirm like that. You think you could wrestle me off, sweetheart?"

He flexes his biceps and you feel it against the thin skin of your throat, your heart pounding as you arch back into his rapidly quickening thrusts, "Mm, that make you all crazy? Thinkin' about wrestling with me? Rollin' around and getting pinned down, that's what does it for you?"

You cry out into the mattress as Logan viciously fucks into your cunt from behind, your neck still caught in his strong arm.

"Good," He grunts, breathy and gruff as his weight bullies you flat into the mattress, "'Cause I'll win that fight every time, sweetheart."

[devilyn]

It was the small things Kuroo Tetsurou did for you.

Sometimes, he would wait for your ubers with you when the both of you had one too many drinks with your friends. Once said uber arrived, he'd casually open the door for you as if it were natural and ask you to text him once you got home.

Other times, he would lean over and ask if you were still having a good time when you got particularly quiet even when everyone else was still just as rambunctious as usual.

But he never crossed a line. He never really touched you unless it was a friendly greeting or goodbye hug. And he never once showed you more or less attention than anyone else in your mutual friend group.

So you shoved this little crush down to the deepest recesses of your heart and suppressed it each time it desperately tried to crawl it's way back up.

And everytime Kuroo showed you even the smallest sign of affection or consideration, you protected your heart by constantly telling yourself you were delusional, and risking a good friendship for these feelings would just be pointless.

So how did you end up here? Drunk crying in front of him after the rest of your friends have already left the bar?

"I like him a lot," you slurred your words. Kuroo sat next to you, his cheek rested against his palm with his elbow propped up against the bar. If you weren't so inebriated, you'd notice how painfully sober he looked.

"Oh really?"

He sounded amused, cat like eyes observing you. You had your face buried in your hands, your practically fully hunched over the bar.

"Mmm...but I really can't tell if I mean anything to him," you groaned into your palms before resting them flat against the bar. Your head lolled back as you leaned backwards, closing your eyes.

Kuroo's arm extended out quickly to stretch across your lower back, catching you before you fell off your barstool. You leaned against his arm, allowing him to hold your weight, and giggled quietly.

"Hey--"

"Do you think I should tell him?"

You turned to him, hand coming up to rest boldly on his knee--more in an attempt to steady yourself rather than to flirt. Your eyes were half lidded, wet tears stuck to your lashes. He resisted the urge to grab a napkin to wipe them away.

"I think--"

"No," you placed your index finger over his lips before he could speak any further, but you barely registered the shock on his face and the pink warming his cheeks. "You're right, I should just keep it to myself."

He swatted your hand away despite your whine.

"I think you should just tell him tomorrow. If you're crying this much over it now, it's clearly weighing on you. Might as well rip the bandaid off."

"Stop being sensible," you grumbled, eyes practically closed at this point. "You're always sensible."

"If I was as sensible as you say, I would've made you leave with everyone else," he mused.

"Oh, so I'm special to you?" you giggled and reached forward to cup his cheeks. Kuroo's eyes widened, lips parting to speak, but you cut him off before he could say anything in protest. "Then, lemme say this..."

Your thumbs brushed over his warm cheeks, and your lips curved up into a dopey, drunk grin.

"I like you, Tetsurou."

There was a beat of silence as his dark eyes scanned over your expression. Your half lidded eyes, cheeks red from your tears earlier, your swollen lips pulled up into that silly grin.

"...I know," he whispered, fingers reaching up to rest over your own, still holding his face. "Can you tell me again when you're sober?"

"No," you pulled your hands away so you could wag your index finger in his face. The motion made him lean back in his stool just slightly. "I don't wanna, m'gonna forget about all this anyway--"

Kuroo took your hand into his own, gently brushing his lips over your knuckles. The movement was small and filled with affection. If you had drank any less than what you did, it may have sobered you up instantly.

"I'll call you tomorrow morning, and you're going to tell me again. I won't let you forget."

His fingers laced with your own, and you hummed quietly, as if contemplating the idea.

"...m'kay."

You'd definitely have more than just the hangover to regret in the morning.

[lxnarphase]

Screaming, crying, violently shaking the bars on my enclosure for thigh grinding. Please.

i had to let this marinate for a little, this is actually so good i love the idea of just plopping yourself on their lap, straddling their thigh when you want their attention when they're doing something. and you gave me free reign on who to write so i am in heaven with these thoughts. i thought about adding 'who would pretend to not notice' and 'who would make you do it until you squirt' but i think i already got carried away with this little thirst ❤︎

WHO ENCOURAGES IT: g. suguru, n. kento, h. kinji, f. toji

the second you sit on him, his attention snaps to you, inquisitively raising an eyebrow. but once you tell him to focus on what he was doing, he bites his lip as he feels you grinding yourself on his thigh.

suguru's abandoned his show, leaning back on the couch and putting his hands on your waist, guiding you back and forth against his leg. "oh, pretty babyyyy, go on, grind on me. does it feel good?" he's a little upset you aren't facing him, but whenever you turn your head over your shoulder, he coos at you so sweetly. he even brings his hand down to your front, playing with your puffy clit through your soaked underwear. "look at you, your gonna get my leg all wet...tsk, you're gonna lick it up for me after, right?" kento turns a pretty shade of pink, chucking as he shakes his head. he texted you only 2 minutes ago, responding to you pouting and asking when he'd be done with work, he didn't think you'd show up this soon. "have i been neglecting you, honey? mm, i'm sorry, love. you can keep going," he encourages, his hand on your lower back as he looks up at you from his leather desk chair. oh, he could never get tired of his view. if he could, he'd have you sit on his thigh every time he worked in his office, but...he knew that wouldn't work out, he'd never be able to get work done with you sitting all pretty on him like this. "i'll take a break from work, okay? mhm, just for you. now keep going, honey, i want you to feel good." kinji stops everything immediately. "well, hi to you too, cupcake," he whistles, his hands instantly starting to rub up and down your sides. "needy cunt wanted some attention? aww, she needs her kinjiiii, ain't that right, doll?" his hand trails down and smacks your ass before grabbing a handful. his eyes are lidded but filled with excitement. oh, he looooved when you took control of your pleasure and used him to feel good. knowing that you needed him so badly that just grinding on his thigh could make you cum made his ego shoot through the roof. "c'mon, wanna have you soak my thigh before i touch you, baby, lemme see how messy you can get." toji is pleasantly surprised when you come to him with that pretty little pout, cooing his name in just his black sweater. his thin pajama pants can't be that good to grind on, the fabric isn't nearly rough enough, but he can feel how hot and wet you're getting, how sticky your panties are getting. seeing how you're getting frustrated, toji just lifts you up and plops you on his dick. "hey, pretty mama, you strugglin'? mhm, yeah, i knowww. my pants aren't enough for that pussy t' cum, are they?" he helps you move your hips back and forth, lazily smirking up at you. "yeah, that feel better? grindin' on my cock instead? y'so pretty, mama, so so pretty."

WHO CUMS IN THEIR PANTS: g. satoru, k. choso

it's hard not to get turned on from seeing you hovering over him, eyes lidded and filled with need, using their thigh to get yourself off. you just look so fucking gorgeous they can't help but move you off their thigh to their lap.

satoru lets you grind on his thigh for a little bit, kissing all over your neck as he fucking giggles into your skin. when he gets that pretty whine of his name after mouthing your pressure point, he pulls you onto his lap, grinding up into you. "baby, baby, baby, you're so cute, s'fuckin' cute! f-fuck, shit, 'm gonna cum, h-haah, you'd gonna make me cum in my fuckin' jeans, c'mon." he lets out the filthiest moan, laughing deliriously as he cums in his jeans. he barely gives himself a second to breathe before he moves you onto your back on the couch, sliding your panties to the side and pulling out his cock that's still hard and covered in his cum. "tsk-tsk-tsk, little dumplinggg, you made me waste it, 's a baddd girl...now i gotta fuck you 'til it leaks out, m'kay? my cock feels so much better than my thigh, angel, let 'toru into this lil' cunt." choso looks up at you with wide eyes, and you barely get to grind on his thigh before he whines, slowly pulling you towards his lap where his hard dick is pressing against his shorts. "b-babe," he whimpers, finally feeling you grinding against him directly. "y-you, i-i, mmn, i can feel your pussy, y-you're grindin' right on the tip, keep going, p-please?" he's activitly fucking up into you, uncaring that his gym shorts are getting soaked with his precum, eyes rolling back in his head as he keens your name. "pleasepleaseplease, 'm gonna cum, lemme cum, i wanna cum against you like this, please!"

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[ynbabe]

We don’t hate each other ୨୧ Arthur x fem! reader

Y/n was Ollie's oldest friend, growing up with him as he raced his way up to formula one, somewhere in between she found Arthur Leclerc, found him a massive fucking pain in the ass that is until something changes when Ollie debuts in Carlos Sainz Ferrari.

A always, comments and requests are always welcome! lemme know what y'all think of this!

Warnings: curses, lime

y/nl/n

y/nl/n GET THIS MAN IN A FERRARI ASAP 💪 💪 💪 😮‍💨

Username they're relationship is so important to me actually

username arent they just friends?? username girl you believe that? LOOK AT THEM THEY'RE LITERALLY MARRIED username theyre 18 go touch grass pls 😭

username GET THAT MAN IN A FERRARI!!!

Username shes so real for that bow, ollies so cute 🥹

olliebearman thank you for the very serious pictures of me, a very serious, very profession man

y/nl/n "very serious, very professional man"🤓 shut up you literally cried in my arms when you got called olliebearman i'm telling my pr officer to block you username did what in whose arms now?? username oooh so hes in love love

arthurleclerc Way to go Ols!

y/nl/n gtfo my post arthurleclerc gtfo off my fyp y/nl/n block me bitch arthurleclerc too much effort, cry olliebearman guys you're in public 😭

username whats with Arthur and Y/N? 😅

Username they're competing for Ollies love Username bro you wrong for that 😂

arthurleclerc

arthurleclerc to MY bestfriend, congratulations on making it to Ferrari and f1! You deserve the best! Hope my brother treated you well.

username SHOTS!! HAVE!! BEEN!! FIRED!!

Username he know he wrong for that first photo

Username okay wait. How do both Leclerc have a Wattpad ass gay romance is it genetic??

Username bro all capped the my 😭

username mans petty as hell

username @/y/nl/n me personally, I wouldn't take that

username hes stealing your man girl go get him!!

oliiebearman Thank you Arthur! Yes he did!

arthurleclerc ur welcome ols ❤️ username @/y/nl/n were waiting for you boo username its the red heart for me Username Charles come get your brother!!! he's cosplaying you and max on main again

y/nl/n Congrats Ollie!! love you 🥰 (Not gonna make this abt myself like some other girls)

arthurleclerc revoking ur paddock pass btw 🥰 Olliebearman ... I'm blocking you both 🥰

username mans done with them 😂

You rolled your eyes as you saw Arthur's comment on yours, how could he be so childish. Forget it, you reminded yourself, today is for Ollie and Ollie only.

You waited in Ollie's driver room till he was done with the debrief, you'd go out to celebrate with him and his family later. His trainer had given him a pass on the diet, after all, scoring points in F1 was no joke.

You jumped off the chair you were lounging in, ready to hug the man as you heard the door open but to your disappointment, it was only Arthur.

You groaned as you saw the boy and he scowled in return. You never knew how your rivalry began. One moment you were visiting Ollie for the first time at Prema and the next you were in a screaming match with a Monagasuque man with the cutest accent.

"What are you doing?" He asked, rather, demanded.

"Waiting for my friend," you replied with the same annoyance in your voice, "What are you doing here?" you accused, stepping towards him.

He pulled a face, closing the gap, "Here to support my friend, you know cause we can actually stand each other,"

"Hah, sure, at least I'm not jealous of my friends, you know cause they actually make it into f1," you shrugged, knowing it was a low blow.

His face morphed into anger as he pushed closer towards you, "You need to shut up," he spoke in a low voice, you'd be scared of the taller, much stronger boy if you weren't doused in anger yourself.

"Make me then," why did you say that- Oh shit.

Your eyes widened as he kissed you, making both of you stumble back and fall on Ollie's driver room bed. You groaned as your back hit the mattress, the older boy breaking the kiss, looking down at you in concern.

"O-oh, my god! Y/n I'm so sorry, I don't know wh-" he began rambling but you couldn't let him win, could you? So you kissed him back, letting your hands run through his hair.

He led one hand to your waist, letting it fall under your shirt, he hissed at the warmth your skin radiated under his palms.

"Oh my god, OH MY GOD," Someone yelled, making Arthur push off the bed, and fall on the floor.

"Ollie this isn't what it looks like," he explained from the floor making you frown.

"It isn't?" you asked making him turn to you.

"No, it is," he explained to you, then turned to shocked Ollie in the doorway, "I mean- it is," he tried to explain.

Ollie paused for a moment, "On my bed, really?" he replied, disgust in his voice.

You picked up the pillow on his now messed up bed, throwing it at his head, "Shut up,"

He laughed as he ducked, "Hey, at least none of us had to intervene," he confessed making you and the boy who was now getting up off the floor groan in defeat.

olliebearman

olliebearman never make out in my room again, I beg you

Y/nl/n sorry I stole your boyfriend, Ols

arthurleclerc you are still the love of my life, y/n's just a friend olliebearman DO NOT START THIS AGAIN

Username HUH?

username chat is this real rn? username fr thought they hated each other username bro said he was going to get his Wattpad enemies to lovers one way or the other

username Charles Leclerc it's your turn now.

charlesleclerc So all the ranting actually led to something?

y/nl/n he talks about me?? arthurleclerc NO I DIDN'T! Charles shut up or I'll tag someone you rant about. Charleslecler y/n changed you i dont like this relationship anymore username WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? Username First we get Arthur x y/n and now we are getting Charles read like filth 😭

trying something new, thoughts?

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Hungry

Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Summary: Miguel has a lactation kink.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Smut, lactation kink, p in v, umm I think that's it. 18+ MDNI.

Disclaimer: never been pregnant, don't know how it works entirely. Just enjoy lol Not beta-read. Also, Miguel being a father warms my heart <3

...

It'd never crossed his mind before. After all, your milk was for the baby. 

Diego nursed from you well, his tiny lips latching onto your swollen nipple with little guidance. You held him close and kissed his brow while you sang to him softly. Now and then you'd hiss, your pretty face pinched from the inevitable pain of breastfeeding. 

Miguel watched you both with a full heart—watched how you cradled his milk-drunk son against your swollen breasts lovingly before putting him down for a nap.

And when he couldn't rip his eyes away from the swell of your chest (or how your nipples continued to drip tiny pearls), he thought nothing of it.

...

"Does it hurt?" He asked in the quietness of your bedroom, his toned arm thrown around your shoulders, holding you close.

Diego began to fidget where he was nestled comfortably on his father's bare chest, his wrinkled face blooming red before a cry ripped from his tiny body. 

"Does what hurt?" You asked in return, gently cooing down at the wailing infant, scooping him gingerly in your arms.

Miguel motioned toward your engorged breasts, his eyes lingering over the damp spots forming over your fitted t-shirt, your nipples leaking through the white cotton fabric.

"Sometimes," you sighed as soon as Diego latched on, "when he doesn't drink enough or bites too hard." 

Miguel studied his son as he drank his fill; until his little eyes fluttered with sleep and his milk-covered lips fell away from your chest. 

A bead of milk formed over your swollen nipple and before it ran down the roundness of your breast, Miguel caught it with the pad of his finger, swiping it up gently and placing it in his mouth.

He hummed in surprise, looking down at your flushed face and doe eyes. 

"What's it taste like?" You whispered curiously, watching Miguel lap at his finger like a cat.

He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor on his tongue before he grunted.

"Sweet."

...

“Lemme help you,” he muttered to you one night, watching you wince and groan while you palmed your full breasts. Diego had drank himself to sleep, leaving your tits full still, straining for release. “You’re in pain.” 

You worried your lip, leaning your head back against the headboard. “The breast pump is in the—”

“No,” he said, “not like that.” He carefully positioned himself between your legs, gently lifting your shirt to reveal your swollen tits, nipples hardening immediately. 

“Miguel—”

“Shh, amor.”

He took a breast in hand, squeezing softly and watching the tiny stream of white pour from your nipple before wrapping his lips around the bud and giving a gentle suck. The sweetness of your milk invaded his senses as he drank from you, his eyes fluttering.

You moaned above him, your fingers threading messily in his hair. 

He palmed your other breast, squeezing enough to let your milk pour over his hands and down his wrist, making a mess of you. His cock was straining against his briefs as he rutted into the mattress for some fiction.

“M-Miguel,” you sighed, ignoring the dampness that pooled over your skin and under you.

“Feels good?” He murmured over your damp skin, his lips covered in milk. He tugged gently on your nipple, giving it a few kitten licks before turning his attention to your other breast, quickly suckling down more of your milk. 

You didn’t answer him—couldn’t—but he knew the answer.

You’d fallen asleep shortly after Miguel had cleaned you up, cradling you in his arms. 

But he was far from satiated.

...

When he could finally put his cock in you, he made sure your pussy was nice and wet for him. 

He’d suck on your tits till you were leaking from both your nipples and between your legs before stuffing you good, your milk pouring over his lips and down his chin. Whatever escaped his mouth would be slurped off your smooth skin, his tongue dragging between your breasts as you covered his cock in your juices.

But you preferred to ride him recently. Miguel didn't mind. He wanted you to take your pleasure from him in the most comfortable way possible for you. He knew he was big, knew his cock was a challenge for you, even more so post-pregnancy, but you knew how to manage him.

Whenever you rode him it was in the kitchen. He’d sit on a chair with your body draped over his and you’d bounce on his cock at your leisure. A baby monitor would be placed on the table, always knocked over in your mission of conquering Miguel's lap.

Tonight was no different. Miguel wanted you.

Your cunt swallowed him perfectly, his cock cushioned within your swollen, warm walls.

Your breasts, bare from any restraints, bounced in his face with every swirl of your hips. They were enticing, your puffy nipples beading with the sweet milk he loved. 

Miguel grunted, grabbing them in his large hands and gently squeezing. Milk began to pour over his hands in thin white streams, seeping through his knuckles and down the expanse of your body. His mouth immediately sucked your nipples in quick succession, and you moaned as the soreness mixed with the pleasure of his cock ramming into you deep.

When you came it was with a loud cry. Miguel immediately latched off your tit, kissing you to silence your cries as you covered him completely in your juices. You could taste the sweetness of your milk on his tongue as he kissed you with fervor, effectively silencing you. 

He gave one final thrust into your tight heat before his hips stilled, groaning in your mouth as he came. By the end of it, you were both covered in spit, milk, and cum, panting against each other. 

Moments later, Diego demanded attention, his cries crackling through the baby monitor. You gently hissed as you pulled off Miguel's large cock, his spend and yours sliding down your thighs and dripping over his lap. 

“Your son is always hungry,” Miguel complained, his hands moving up to thumb at your sore nipples. You scoffed, snatching your robe off the table where Miguel had carelessly tossed it aside, placing it over your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you grinned, swiping a bead of your milk off Miguel’s lower lips, “just like his father."

[waffledforbreakfast]

"Come Over He's Gone" - PRANK [SMAU]

Staring: Rin, Shidou, Saee niko, kaiser, ness, otoya, karasu, reo, isagi, charles

[ BLLK Scenario Masterlist ]

TW: swearing suggestive comments, suic1de jokes, heavy ooc, bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, cringe, scuff, etc.

Rin

Shidou

Sae

Niko

Kaiser

Ness

Otoya

Karasu

Reo

Nagi

Ego

Isagi

Charles

A/N: Thoughts? maybe i should've put all the images together so you can scroll through them... lemme know if you'd like that!

I wanna try more smaus in the future, so im playing around with different applications, so lemme know what u think of this style! (insta)

I don't usally get much engagement(comments/asks/etc.) over here on tumblr, so im not expecting much, but lemme know if u have any strong opinions!