#my old man is a bad man but ;;;; he's trying his fucking best lmao .

[scare-ard--sleigh]

here's the thing, here's the real thing, like obviously i do not condone what croccyboy did in alabasta. but i do think it is worth saying, that loneliness -- and i'm not talking about incel 'no one wants to fuck me' loneliness, i'm talking about like real, bone-deep, not sharing a meal with someone in years loneliness -- can fuck the human psyche up in incredible ways as yet unstudied by humans. i think he's a solipsist by necessity, because rain dinners was his entire world (what even existed beyond that world in his mind?) i think it can make you so crazy and it's insidious. you don't even realize how crazy it's made you until you talk to someone who's more adjusted; all he's doing is seeing the world's problems and wanting to solve them on his own : | and i have a really hard time being mad at him for that??? it's like henry winter, like.....no, these things were not good, they were not right, but knowing he got 3 hours of sleep a night???? shit made a LOT more sense .

[choerrypuffs]

red velvet hearts.

pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.

author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3

warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama

playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift

RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU

“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.” 

“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier. 

“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”

“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes. 

“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely. 

You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson. 

“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly. 

“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.” 

“I was handling things just fine on my own.”

“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state. 

You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.” 

The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention. 

By the time you and Yeri finish hanging up all the posters, the sun is already starting to set, and all you want to do is go home and put a heating pad on your back. After saying bye to Yeri, you start making your way back to the bakery to lock up. Once you arrive, you notice a figure dressed in black slumped over in front of the door. You can see their shoulders rise up and down as they take in labored breaths, leaning against the glass door for support. 

Every rational fiber in your being screams at you to not approach the stranger alone, but it’s not like you can just leave this person at the front of your place of business. Cautiously taking a step forward, you squat down to eye level with the stranger, wincing slightly from back pain. Through the sweaty and matted mess of his brown fringe, you can see that the stranger is a young man around your age. However, his face is absolutely battered: bloody (and almost certainly broken) nose, split lip, black eye swollen shut, and a jagged cut on his cheek. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t show it, keeping his head hung down.

Gingerly placing a hand on his arm, you give him a small shake. “Excuse me? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” 

His brows furrow, and he opens an eye (the only one he’s probably able to open) with a wince before lifting a finger and putting it against his lips. You notice that his knuckles are completely scraped raw. 

“Not so loud. I’m okay,” he answers. 

“You don’t look―” 

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles with a guttural growl that slowly drawls into a sputtering gurgle before dying out all together―leaving a long silence to hang between the two of you.

After another beat, he gives you a sheepish smile. “You got anything to eat?” 

You stare at him for a moment; his face is flushed, pink all the way down to his neck. 

And like a stupid horror movie character who opens the door to a room that clearly screams danger, you nod. 

.

.

.

Fortunately, he―Donghyuck, as he introduced himself―ends up not being a crazy ax murderer. 

Unfortunately, you find yourself awkwardly sitting in your closed bakery with a virtual stranger, fiddling with a first aid kit while watching him absolutely devour a piece of leftover tiramisu that you had in your fridge. If the situation wasn’t so insane, you might actually think it was pretty funny. For someone who looks the way he does, this current picture of Donghyuck absolutely doesn’t suit him―bruised chipmunk cheeks stuffed with ladyfingers and cocoa powder stuck on his split lip. 

When he’s finished, Donghyuck looks over at you with a mesmerized expression on his face, as if you just fed him ambrosia. There’s a softness to his face that you didn’t think could exist underneath all that grime and dried blood. 

“That was…delicious,” he breathes. 

“Thanks,” you snort, pushing a glass of water towards him. Unsurprisingly, he chugs it in the blink of an eye. “I still think you should get those injuries checked out, though.” 

“Nah, I’ll rub a little spit in them and it’ll be fine,” he shrugs. 

“Don’t be gross,” you sigh, scooting your chair closer to him as you set the first aid kit on the table. “Now, come here.” 

Donghyuck reluctantly dips his head, and you carefully cup his jaw for support, disinfecting and applying ointment on the cuts and scrapes on his face. You also clean up the dried blood near his nostrils and on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t flinch even when you accidentally brush tender areas like his broken nose or the gash on his mouth. Instead, he stays perfectly still, leaned back in the chair with his forearms resting on his thighs and fingers nonchalantly laced together. 

He keeps his gaze trained on something past your shoulder, and you also try your best to focus, but it’s hard to keep yourself from staring―especially when his demeanor has changed so much. He’s so calm and quiet in such a cold, ruthless manner, as if he’s physically steeling himself from pain―like he’s done this a million times before. Occasionally, you feel his eyes swipe across your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and it occurs to you how close the two of you are. Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the heat of his skin against your palm and fingertips, and you rip your hand away from his jaw. 

Clearing your throat, you move onto his hands, dabbing his raw knuckles with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol before placing large band-aids on them. Despite your best efforts, it’s hard not to notice how slim his long fingers are or how surprisingly clean his nail beds are for someone who’s covered in blood. You keep your head completely bent, fighting the urge of looking up and possibly meeting his eyes. 

“There, all done,” you announce a little too loudly. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, “for the cake and for this. For helping me.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much,” you blurt, still avoiding eye contact as you clean up the table. However, you notice in your peripheral that his gaze follows your movements, almost hesitantly, before he asks: 

“So, you’re hiring?” 

You click the first-aid kit shut, blinking a few times before turning back to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“I―yeah. How did you know that?” you ask, puzzled by such a random question. 

Donghyuck points at a poster that you didn’t even know you left here, sitting on the table right behind you. You realize that he was probably looking at it while you were patching him up. 

“That poster that says ‘help wanted.’ With the Pompompurin stickers. I’m actually in between jobs right now, so if you would have me―”

“You know Pompompurin?” you interrupt him. It’s not that important and should not stand out to you as much as it does. Yet, you can’t help but grin at the fact that someone like him knows about a tubby Golden Retriever character with a name that sounds like a mashup of the English language’s most adorable onomatopeias. 

Donghyuck trails off, stiffening as if you just found out his deepest, darkest secret. He opens his mouth slightly, trying to speak but unable to formulate a response―an excuse, rather. Instead, he just lets out an airy cough, putting a hand over his mouth and turning away from you in an attempt to obscure his face. Despite his best efforts, he can’t hide his glowing red ears and the way his earlier coldness melts away.

“I―yeah,” he responds, words slightly muffled by his hand. 

You struggle to maintain your composure as you gnaw on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. Fighting a smile in your voice, you finally say: 

“The pay won’t be that much, but you’ll get a bunch of free desserts at the end of the day. Are you okay with that?” 

It takes him a moment to process that you’re offering him the job, and you watch his eyes light up and a warm smile overtake his face. There’s still a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, clashing with the purple bruising and swelling of his injuries. 

“I’d love nothing more.”

Suddenly, it occurs to you that Donghyuck somewhat reminds you of a tiramisu. 

He may look a bit rugged and grimey, bitter like coffee, but in actuality, underneath it all, he’s soft and fluffy (but not too sweet) like a mascarpone filling. 

RECIPE 2. BLUEBERRY PIE

“Are you out of your mind?”

You cringe away from your phone, hurriedly turning the volume down. “Damn, you don’t have to scream like that.” 

“You should be the one screaming,” Yeri hollers. “I better not come over one day and find your body stuffed in the freezer or something.”

“I thought you wanted me to hire someone!” 

“Not some random dude off the side of the street who was covered in injuries and doesn’t even have any baking experience,” Yeri hisses. 

“I don’t need him to bake. I just have him working the front counter and doing all the heavy lifting when I get my ingredient shipments,” you protest. “Did you think I would really just hand over all my orders to some random dude and go party it up in Cancún or something?” 

Yeri is silent for several seconds before asking, “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“What?”

“So you did know what I meant when I said you needed your back blown out.” You can hear the smugness in her voice. 

“Yeri,” you say tiredly, “please be serious.”

“I am serious. You’re the one being unserious,” she retorts. “Yesterday, you acted like you would rather sacrifice your firstborn child before hiring a part-timer, and now look at you. Dickmatized.” 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

“So, when do I get to meet him―”

You quickly hit the button to end the call and shove your phone into your pocket, letting out an exasperated sigh. You definitely won’t be hearing the end of that for a while. Your face feels warm for some reason, and you decide that you need a coffee break. After you finish making it, you pour yourself and Donghyuck a cup. 

You peek your head out from the curtain that separates the kitchen and the front counter to see if Donghyuck is busy. He’s politely chatting with an elderly woman, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when he takes out the entire tray of egg tarts in the glass display and wraps it up for her. The woman happily hands him a wad of bills and waves him goodbye. After putting the cash in the register, Donghyuck turns around and catches you in the middle of gawking. 

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually just about to head back there. We’re out of egg tarts for the display,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you whisper loudly, “Was that Mrs. Kim? Why the hell did she order a dozen egg tarts? That woman can barely finish a single cookie.” 

Donghyuck blinks, clearly confused, whispering back, “She asked for my recommendation, so I said egg tarts since no one had bought any yet, and she said she would take all of them.” 

You pause, things finally clicking. Grinning knowingly, you say, “You know, having you work the front is doing wonders for sales.” 

“I don’t understand.” He furrows his brows. 

You laugh, handing him his cup of coffee. “I’m talking about your face card, Donghyuck. You’re too handsome, so you’re flustering the customers.” 

“Are we not whispering anymore?” he asks awkwardly. “Besides, that’s not true. Look at the state of my face right now.” 

His injuries have faded significantly, but the bruising and cuts are still there. You want to tell him that superficial wounds can’t mask the warmth in his caramel-brown eyes, the fullness of his cheeks and the sharp jawline, and the air of mystery that enshrouds him and draws people in. 

But you don’t. 

“Well, for someone who’s only been working here for two weeks, you’re doing superb. Injuries or not.” 

And it’s true. You’ve always preferred to work alone because you’re the only one who understands how you want things done. You naturally assumed it would be a hassle and a waste of time to try to explain to someone else when you could just do it yourself, but Donghyuck never seems to need an explanation. In fact, he knows before even you. 

He gets to the bakery three hours before you, cleans and preps all the equipment you need for the day, unloads the ingredient shipments, and is already manning the front counter by the time you arrive like it was no big deal at all. He also seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t be, even though you downplayed your back injury. He’s somehow always there―moving all the stuff you keep on the top shelf to somewhere within your reach even though you insisted that the rickety wooden step stool you use is perfectly safe, cleaning up a glass beaker that you accidentally shattered, taking out the trash during his breaks, checking in on you when you skip lunch. He even turned down his first paycheck, saying it’s repayment for patching him up and feeding him. 

Donghyuck is so perfect that sometimes you wonder if you’re being set up, like maybe he’s secretly embezzling money from the cash register―which would be a more viable theory if he didn’t drive an Audi to work everyday. 

“Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee,” Donghyuck says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He gingerly takes a sip and makes a strangled noise, a mixture being choking and retching, before slapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Are you okay? Was it too hot?” you ask worriedly. 

“No, it’s just…really bitter,” he mumbles, words muffled in his hand. 

“Oh,” you blink, “Sorry. I drink black coffee, so I forgot to ask if you wanted creamer and sugar. Come on, there’s some in the back.” 

The two of you head to the kitchen, and you watch him dump an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar in his coffee, the dark roast swirling into something more akin to milk tea.

“You know, there might be some chocolate milk in the fridge if you’d rather that,” you tease. 

His head shoots up, those doe eyes lighting up. “Really?” 

“No,” you trail off awkwardly, “Sorry, I'm just messing with you.” 

It’s a bit adorable that you can visibly see him being disappointed in there not being chocolate milk before growing embarrassed, looking down at his cup. He turns away from you, but you can see the flush on the back of his neck. 

“You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” you laugh. 

“Pretty lame, right?” 

“Why would that be lame? You’re talking to someone who owns a bakery, in case you forgot.” 

Donghyuck smiles at you, and it’s sugary sweet like buttercream frosting. He looks at you like you just said the most wonderful thing in the world; in fact, he always makes you feel like that, no matter what you say or do. “I guess you’re right.” 

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you blurt, needing a distraction urgently. 

He pauses briefly. “I don’t think I have one.”

That actually surprises you. “You don’t? Even though you love sweets so much?” 

He laughs, the sound harsh and rough, and it almost makes you flinch. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to have many until now.” 

There’s clearly weight behind his words, but you know you’re not in a position to ask any further. A selfish part of you wants to be important enough to him that you are in a position to know more, but you’re all too aware about him very purposefully keeping you at arm’s length. 

“Well, you have plenty of time to find out,” you quickly continue, pretending not to notice. “Actually, I’m going to a blueberry farm tomorrow because I’m thinking about adding blueberry pie to the menu. When I get back, I’ll bake one for you, and you can be the first to taste test it!” 

“You’re going by yourself?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course. Who else would I go with?” 

“Me. I’ll go with you,” he replies immediately. 

“But it’s, like, a forty-five-minute bus ride to the farm. Plus, coming with me to get ingredients isn’t part of your job description anyway,” you explain. 

“I can’t come with you on my own free time?” he asks, tilting his head. “Besides, I’m worried about you overexerting yourself with that back injury. A bumpy bus ride definitely isn’t going to help, so I’ll drive us there.” 

“You’re going to drive that fancy ass car to a farm? You do realize it’s going to be dirt roads, right?” You cross your arms. 

“I think I’ll live. Besides, what makes you think this is the only fancy ass car I own?” He gives you an amused smile. 

“You’re joking, right?” You stare at him. 

He hesitates for a moment. “Yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound―”

“What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?” 

“...Seven.”

.

.

.

Unsurprisingly, Donghyuck picks you up right on time, not a minute too early or late. As the universe would have it, it rained the night prior―meaning all the dirt roads are now rivers of mud. You wince every time you heard a splat of mud hit Donghyuck’s pristine white car, but he seems to pay no mind to it. The two of you arrive at the farm within twenty minutes (he found a shortcut), and because you came so early, you get the entire farm to yourselves. The staff arms both of you with a large wicker basket each before setting you loose onto the massive property. 

“Okay, make sure to pick the fat ones. The small ones are super tart, so avoid those,” you instruct Donghyuck. “We’re going to fill these baskets to the brim and get our money’s worth.” 

“You got it, Captain.” He salutes. 

You give him a determined nod and a thumbs up before turning to your respective side and beginning to pick the blueberries. The two of you work without much fanfare or conversation, and it’s a silence that lingers between you comfortably. It reassures you to hear the sound of the bushes rustling from Donghyuck working; his companionship alone relaxes you. 

Eventually, when the sun starts peeking through and the weather grows warmer, both of you decide to take a break. You find a spot in the shade before sitting down, pulling out snacks and bottles of water from a backpack Donghyuck brought along. 

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, trying to hide a smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He eyes you suspiciously but does so anyway. You fish out a handful of unripe blueberries wrapped in a handkerchief from your pocket and feed some to him. His reaction is nearly instant the moment he starts chewing them; you watch as his face puckers up from how sour they are and his entire body shrivels into itself, a shudder running through him. He’s polite enough to not spit them out, but you’re not polite enough to resist pointing and laughing at him. Throwing your head back, you laugh so hard that your stomach starts to hurt. 

“Oh my God, your face!” 

“Ugh,” Donghyuck groans, taking a big gulp of his water. “I should’ve known you had sinister intentions from the start.” 

“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” you finally manage to say after catching your breath. “You really can’t handle anything except for sweet stuff.” 

“Are you having fun bullying me?” He rolls his eyes. 

“So much fun,” you say in a sing-song voice. 

Donghyuck tries to continue feigning annoyance, but he can’t help the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest. His eyes always soften when he looks at you, and his gaze is intimate like a lover’s―gentle, tender, unwavering, and vulnerable. But his warmth is always fleeting, and he only allows you glimpses of it through the unmoving walls that he’s erected around himself. 

You wish he wouldn’t indulge you so, terrified you’ll try to cross the line he’s drawn between the two of you. 

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck asks, trying to read your expression

“About the delicious pie I’m about to make when we get back,” you smile. 

“I see,” he responds, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You better be. This is how I’m paying you back for driving me here,” you nod. 

“Instead of that, pay me back by telling me what your favorite dessert is,” he suddenly says. “I do still want the pie, though.” 

“That was random,” you snort. “Why do you want to know my favorite dessert?”

“Because you asked me, but you never told me yours.” 

You suppose he has a point, but you find it ironic that he wants to know more about you when he refuses to offer you even a modicum of information about himself. Despite this, you tell him anyway because you are obviously the fool here. 

“If you must know, it’s red velvet cake,” you sigh. 

“Why?” 

You don’t answer at first, carefully thinking about if you’re ready to be vulnerable in front of him―still a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who loves sweets. A virtual stranger who is a bit of a messy eater. A virtual stranger who knows Pompompurin. A virtual stranger who worries about you even when he’s not on the clock. A virtual stranger who gently tells you to be careful whenever you try to do something dangerous, whispering, “I’ll do it instead.” A virtual stranger who allows his luxury car to be caked in mud for you. 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you finally say. “I baked it for my mom’s birthday, and I think I ended up being more excited than her.” 

Donghyuck stays quiet, gauging your reaction. 

“I was in college, studying to be a doctor like everyone else in my family. So, like a dumb young person who thought that dreams were more important than money, I dropped out of college and went to culinary school. My parents told me I was ruining mine and their lives, disowned me, yada-yada―a bunch of depressing stuff, you know. Eventually, I graduated, took out a huge loan, and opened up my own bakery. Worked a bunch of part-time jobs until my business could stand on its own. Now here I am. Still in debt, though,” you laugh awkwardly. “But I’m not doing too shabby. I was able to hire you, so at least I have a little cash to spare.” 

He still doesn’t say anything, so you find yourself starting to ramble. You’re really not sure what possessed you to trauma dump on him like that. 

“You know, a lot of people talk shit about red velvet cake because they say the only thing that makes it special is the red food coloring,” you hurriedly explain, “but that’s not true. The cream cheese frosting is super important too. Also, I always say love is the most important ingredient of all. As a baker, you’re kind of baring your heart to the customer, and isn’t it kind of cute that red velvet cake is red like a heart? Okay, please say something now or else I think I’m going to projectile vomit.” 

Donghyuck reaches over and brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. His fingers brush over your temple, which makes you sharply suck in a breath. You almost lean into his touch, but you catch yourself. His hand slightly lingers on the side of your neck, like he wants to bring your face closer, but he eventually pulls away. 

He searches your face, and you’re not sure what he’s looking for―if anything. Rather, perhaps he’s not searching. Perhaps he’s committing your features to his memory, as if the way you look right now is something he wants to remember forever. 

“You’ve worked hard, Y/N,” he says softly, voice slightly hoarse. “This is long overdue, but congratulations. You achieved your dream, and don’t let anyone ever discount that. Not even yourself.” 

You wonder how long you’ve waited to hear that. You’re not even sure you knew you needed to hear that. But when Donghyuck says it, it hits you just how long and hard you’ve worked all on your own without a single break. Throughout the years, you’ve really only ever heard, “I’m sorry that happened.” When was the last time someone congratulated you? When was the last time you congratulated yourself? 

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. Donghyuck cradles you against him, one hand wound tightly around your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. You can feel his chest rise up and down as he holds you. He smells like lavender soap and a bit earthy from being outside, and the warmth of his skin against your cheek makes you want to close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“No, thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. 

You’re not sure why he’s thanking you instead, but what you are sure of is that you’re crossing the line, taking a step towards him and wondering if he’ll meet you halfway. 

.

.

.

“Tada!” you announce cheerfully, setting down the freshly baked blueberry pie onto the table. 

Donghyuck claps excitedly. “Holy shit, it looks amazing.” 

“I’m still trying to figure out the right portions for the filling, so let me know if you think there’s too much or little,” you tell him as you hand him a slice. 

Without even answering you, he stabs his fork into the pie and almost eats the entire slice in one bite, seemingly unbothered by the steam still rising from it. 

“Be careful. You’re going to burn your tastebuds off. I’m not letting you eat it for shits and giggles, you know. This is for research purposes.” You cross your arms. 

“It’s perfect, Y/N. I’m serious,” Donghyuck says after swallowing. “The filling isn’t too sweet, and the crust is airy and light.” 

“Well, alright, Gordon Ramsay. I think we’re going to be adding a new menu item then,” you smile. “Think you can get Mrs. Kim to buy a dozen of these?”

“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing with how good these taste.” 

“You’re so easy,” you tease. “All I need to do is feed you. Anyways, I’m going to clean up here, but you should head home. It’s getting late, and you wake up way earlier than me.” 

“I’ll help,” he insists. 

“Go,” you order, pointing at the door. “I can handle it.” 

He looks conflicted but eventually relents when you threaten to physically kick him out. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Why do you keep thanking me?” you laugh. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”

“What? A blueberry pie?”

Donghyuck pauses, a slight wonder in his expression, as if he’s realizing his answer for the first time as well.

“Peace.” 

And you think maybe this is a step forward for him too. 

RECIPE 3. CREAM PUFF

It’s quite surreal how easily and naturally you and Donghyuck fall into a routine together. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, two weeks becomes two months. You’ve learned the little things about him, like how he always swipes some icing before you can fill up the piping bag or that he’s not a coffee drinker at all (more of a hot cocoa person) or that he purses his lips when a dessert he’s testing tastes off (no matter how hard he tries to hide it) or that he involuntarily sticks his arm out in front of you when he wants to stop you from doing something you shouldn’t. 

You also notice that he sometimes comes into work with injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as the first time you met him, but it’s hard to ignore a bruised cheek or bloodied knuckles. He always has a reason for them, whether it’s tripping down the stairs or accidentally falling down and scraping his hands on the concrete. You can tell by the way he laughs it off that he doesn’t plan on telling you the truth, so you laugh with him. The two of you, having taken only a step towards one another, find yourselves completely immobile now. 

He always does this: envelops you like a cloud but disappears the moment you reach out for him. 

You’re honestly not sure why he’s still here. Your injury has long healed, and he clearly doesn’t need the abysmal pay you’re giving him. He feels like he’ll slip away at any moment, fleeting like a warm spring breeze, and you suppose time flies by when you know it’s limited. Despite knowing that, you can’t help but desperately want him to stay. 

“I think it’s cute how hard he’s working,” Yeri randomly says one day as she eyes Donghyuck prepare orders in the front. He’s in the middle of a lunchtime rush, so he doesn’t even notice the two of you watching him like weirdos.

“Well, that’s what I’m paying him to do,” you reply, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, I think the money is the least of his worries here,” she hums, taking a sip of her coffee. 

She has a point, but you’re pretty sure she’s implying something else as well. Just as you go to ask her what exactly she means, you hear a loud clatter. Flinching, you turn your attention back to Donghyuck and realize that he’s dropped a tray on the floor. However, the tray is the last thing on your mind when you see the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of horror, anger, and almost sadness―like he’s finally come face-to-face with whatever he’s been running from. It makes your blood run cold. 

Donghyuck is looking at a boy around his age; the boy has dark hair, a mole under his eye, and a grim expression. More importantly, he’s covered in injuries too. 

“Who is that?” Yeri whispers. “Why does Donghyuck look like he’s seen a ghost?” 

Maybe because he has, you want to tell her. 

Donghyuck grabs the boy's arm, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and mumbles something to him. When he turns around and meets your eyes, he looks pained and fearful as if you witnessed something you shouldn’t have.

“Is it okay if I take my break early today?” he asks calmly, though the tremor in his voice gives him away. 

You nod hesitantly, unable to force yourself to speak. You watch him as he drags the boy out; when he passes you, you can tell how tightly his body is wound right now. His jaw is clenched, a muscle spasming as he tries to control himself, and every step he takes seems labored. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, like he’s physically steeling himself. 

However, you don’t think he’s ever appeared so incredibly alone before. As you watch his back disappear further and further from your view, you’re unsure if he’ll ever return, and you never imagined how terrifying that would be. 

.

.

.

The cream puffs aren’t rising.

You’re crouched in front of the oven, watching the dough remain flat and lifeless. You should’ve known better than to attempt to make cream puffs on such a shitty day, especially when pastries like these are so sensitive to the environment and atmosphere. Even though you know you should probably just scrap them and try again, you wait for just a little longer, hoping that maybe if you wish hard enough that they’ll magically start to rise. 

But then again you suppose that no matter how hard you try, no matter how careful you are, no matter how perfect the batter is, no matter how much time you spend time piping them, no matter how much you want them to rise, they won’t. 

You decide that Donghyuck isn’t like a tiramisu at all; he’s sensitive and delicate and elusive and frustrating like a cream puff. 

“Y/N, they’re burning.” 

Losing your balance and nearly falling over, you gasp loudly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Donghyuck walk into the kitchen, nor did you smell the undeniable scent of something being burnt to a crisp. 

“Oh, fu―!” you curse, hurriedly opening the oven and casually suffocating both you and Donghyuck with a hot plume of air. Sputtering, you look around and grab a random rag from the sink before reaching for the cream puffs. 

“Wait, stop!” Donghyuck stops you with an outstretched arm, his hand pressed to your side. “Let me do it.” 

He gently takes the rag from your hand and removes the tray of charred cream puffs from the oven, dumping them into the trash before putting the tray in the sink and running some water on it―just how you like it. 

Letting out a relieved sigh, he turns back to you and asks, “Are you okay? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. You didn’t get burned anywhere, did you?” 

When you don’t answer immediately, Donghyuck rushes forward and grabs your hands, carefully examining your fingers and arms. “Wait, are you hurt? Where? Tell me where you got burned. We have to cool it down with some lukewarm water. And don’t just say you’re fine. Burns are not a joke, Y/N―why are you looking at me like that?” 

His hands are calloused and rough, and you can still see scabs from where he tore his knuckles, yet he touches you like you’re the delicate one. He’s covered in fresh and old wounds, yet he looks so panicked at the thought of you having a scratch. 

“Shut up,” you whisper furiously, ripping your hands away from him. “From now on, don’t ask me another question. It’s my turn to ask you questions.” 

He blinks, a bit stunned by your reaction, but it’s clear he knows what you’re about to say. He goes to reach for you again but decides against it. “Okay.” 

“Who was that guy?” you demand. “Why are you always covered in injuries? Why did you lie to me? Who are you?” 

“He’s an old friend,” Donghyuck starts quietly. 

“Do you treat all your friends like that?” 

“When I don’t want to see them.” 

You wait for him to continue.

“Before I met you, he and I and a few of our other friends worked…odd jobs for cash,” he explains, and he looks like he’s choking on every word. “The jobs usually entailed us hurting people and also getting hurt. I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was just nice to feel something, whether it was the adrenaline rush from doing the punching or the pain from being punched. I got a bunch of money, bought a bunch of expensive stuff, but none of it mattered. Eventually, I just felt nothing again. I didn’t even have the energy to loathe myself anymore. So, I took one last job, got the shit kicked out of me, and then I left. That’s when you found me―”

He inhales, and his eyes flicker towards you. He gazes at you so longingly, as if you were impossibly out of his reach, that you can’t help but involuntarily take a step towards him. 

But he steps back. 

“I thought that working here would make me feel like a human being again, but I didn’t realize how much I would―” He pauses again. “I thought working here would be a nice reset for me, but I naively thought that I could completely leave my past behind. My friends eventually found me, and I guess I care about those reckless assholes more than I thought because they managed to convince me to take on a few more jobs with them. That’s why I’ve been coming to work with injuries. But I’m done. I cut them off for good when they walked into this bakery. I don’t want…I don’t want our past to tarnish this place. I want to keep this place a beautiful, warm, and pure safe haven that you worked so hard for it to be. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I’m a coward to the bone, and I was envious of you. I was ashamed to admit it to you. You, who had the courage to chase after your dream. You, who had the kindness to help a good-for-nothing asshole like me. I only want you to have happy memories from now on, and I am not one of them.” 

“Are you going to leave?” you ask softly. 

“I probably should,” he answers shakily. 

“What’s stopping you?” 

“Just…one reason.” 

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like the reason is me.” 

Donghyuck laughs bitterly, and his eyes drag across your face like every movement hurts him.

“You know it’s you. It’s always been you.” 

When you reach for his hand, he turns away like just the warmth from your body heat burns him. So instead, you take a step back. 

“I won’t ask you to stay, Donghyuck, I won’t chase you. I’m going to wait right here, and it’s up to you if you're going to meet me halfway.” 

RECIPE 4. RED VELVET CAKE

When your alarm clock goes off the next morning, you seriously consider just not showing up to work. It’s not like you can be fired for being a no-show when you’re your own boss, after all. 

And it’s not like you have any employees who will be expecting you. 

You’ll just apologize to Mrs. Kim and your other regulars later. You’re allowed to have a day where you just rot in bed and feel sorry for yourself. 

However, no matter how much you tell yourself that, you find yourself crawling out of bed and getting ready anyway. You can’t seem to brutally crush that small glimmer of hope that Donghyuck might still be there, no matter how hard you try. When you see yourself in the mirror, you recoil in horror. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from the amount of crying you did last night, and your face is sallow and lifeless. 

So much for putting on a brave face, you think wryly to yourself. You tried so hard to look tough, when in reality, you bawled your eyes out and even considered praying to God for Donghyuck to stay. It’s a humiliating and humbling reality check. 

“Stand up right now,” you sharply tell yourself in the mirror. “He’s just some guy. Get it together.” 

You do your best to clean up your appearance and make the trek over to the bakery. It takes another internal pep talk before you can make your way to the door. After you finally walk up, you see that the lights inside are off. Your stomach sinks, and your eyes start to burn. Even though you’re holding the handle, you can’t bring yourself to open the door. It’s an outcome that you expected, yet you wonder why it hurts so badly. 

“You liar,” you mumble to yourself, “You said you only wanted me to have happy memories.” 

Once you make your way inside, you numbly head towards the kitchen, trying to remember what exactly you have to do today. Oh right, now that he’s not here, you also have to make sure all the ingredients are prepped first. 

When you walk into the kitchen, you do a double-take. 

The whole place looks like it’s been completely ransacked: used pans and utensils piled up in the sink, two opened boxes of cake mix, containers of ingredients without lids on on the tables, random lumps of flour and egg shells strewn about― 

And right in front of the oven is Donghyuck, flour in his hair and frosting on his nose. He’s holding a cake stand with…you think it’s supposed to be a cake on it? The shape is mangled and haphazardly cut, but it has echoes of a heart. The frosting is a hot mess, as if a bird with diarrhea shat all over the cake. The batter is clearly underbaked and makes the cake look gooey in a bad way. 

“Um, I promise I’ll clean all of this up in a second, but I wanted to surprise you,” Donghyuck starts awkwardly. “It’s not perfect, but I tried making a red velvet cake for you.” 

You stare at him, still not sure how to react. 

“You once said that baking is like baring your heart to the customer and that love is the most important ingredient of all,” he laughs softly to himself. “I think love is the only ingredient I managed to get right, but I’m baring my heart to you now, Y/N. I’m sorry I hid everything and lied to you, but I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. All my life, I’ve chased a feeling, not knowing what it was. But now I do. I don’t think I knew how to feel until I met you. I never once thought I would ever have a purpose in my life, but you make me want to be a normal, proper member of society. Your dream is my dream. I want to wake up at 5AM and sell egg tarts with you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” 

Donghyuck sets the cake down on a table in front of you, and you notice that his fingers are dyed red from the food coloring. It almost reminds you of when you first met him, except his injuries have been replaced with red food coloring, flour, and cream cheese frosting. 

“This cake is terrible,” you smile, “how did you butcher it that badly when you used cake mix?” 

You watch him blush all the way down to his neck, as he sheepishly looks away. “Don’t make fun of me. I really tried my best. I stayed up watching tutorials―” 

Leaning across the table, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him, brushing your thumbs across his cheekbones. He tastes like frosting, hot cocoa, and your prayers being answered. The way he kisses you back is bruising, dizzying and knocking any coherent thought out of your head, his hands finding your hips and anchoring you to him. He kisses you like you’re the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever tasted.

When you finally pull away, it takes you a moment to regain feeling in your legs. Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, lips brushing against yours once again as the two of you try to catch your breath. 

“I think I’m going to have to fire you, though,” you whisper. “You know, with me being your boss and all. The power dynamic is too weird.” 

He hums, pausing for thought. “Then how about I become your business partner?” 

“What?”

Donghyuck reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a shiny and fancy-looking credit card. He hands it to you without much fanfare. 

“I have a lot of money, you know. So I’m going to invest in your business. Use it as you’d like,” he casually announces.

You stare at him, your jaw hanging wide open. He never tried to hide from you that he was rich, but he never told you that he was rich rich. 

“Well, damn! Why didn’t you show me this earlier? I would have forgiven you a lot sooner,” you tease, slapping him on the arm. “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I’m quite the gold-digger, you know.”

“When I told you to use it as you’d like, I meant me as well,” Donghyuck replies, shrugging.

“You’re insane.” You hope he can’t tell how much your face is burning up. 

“I guess I am,” he laughs, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so free. You want to tell him that you hope he only has happy memories from now on too. You want to tell him that you’ll rewrite all of his scars with sugary and fluffy desserts so that they won’t ever hurt again. 

And for the first time in your life, you feel it too.

Peace. 

EXTRA

“So, have you figured out what your favorite dessert is?” 

Donghyuck stirs slightly, groaning, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He slips his hand under your shirt (well, technically it’s his shirt) and rests it on your bare hip bone. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” 

“Because I’m curious.” 

“If I answer, will you let me rest?”

“Depends on how good your answer is.” 

“Blueberry pie. That’s my answer.” 

You smile against the crook of his neck. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life.” 

[dolche-tejada]

You know, I think this ending would have been slightly less of a fucking disappointment if the heroes hadn't been so unfairly favored by Horikoshi compared to the villains. I mean, seriously

Deku destroys every bone in his body multiple times throughout the story and is warned that if he continues, he'll permanently lose the use of his limbs ? Everything's fine, his body's just got used to being reduced to a bloody pulp somehow so there's no consequences for him. In fact even when he literally loses his arms to Shigaraki, he gets them back two minutes later thanks to Eri because guess what ? Her horn still works even when cut off from her body. How convenient.

Gran Torino gets his ribcage obliterated by Shigaraki ? Don't worry guys, he'll survive that despite his old age and injuries, and this to have no particular role in the plot afterwards.

Bakugo dies heroically trying to buy time before Deku arrives ? Lmao, did you really believe it ?? No of course not, Edgeshot just uses his last-minute Deus Ex Machina to save his life at the cost of his own and- Oops nope he's fine too, my bad !

Hawks murders a criminal fleeing for his life in cold-blood ? The best Hori has to offer is him completely free and in charge of the HSPC.

And no, losing his quirk isn't a real consequence for him because not only it literally played a major part in saving the world with Vestige!Hawks raising an insurrection among AFO's quirks, but also because his quirk has always been the element through which people exploited him.

Endeavor abused his family for years and completely destroyed his eldest son ? No jail time and no media backlash for that, the only blame he received was due to the heroes' failure to stop the League during the Raid Arc.

And don't even get me started on this bs about facing hell or whatever for what he's done : He's literally free and wealthy ; he have Rei, Fuyumi, Shoto, his sidekicks and Hawks on his side ; and all the difficulties he's apparently going to suffer are off-screened.

Deku had to sacrifice OFA and his future hero career to save the world ? Guess what, Bakugo invested all his time and money to make him an Iron-Man suit and now he can still be a hero with everyone else.

There are plenty more examples of this but I think you get the idea. Now let's take a look at the villains' ending :

Toya is now a piece of charcoal kept artificially alive for the few years he has left, unable to move a finger, and whose few minutes a day during which he can stay awake will be spent talking to his father who abused him as a child.

Toga, a literal teenager, killed herself to save Ochako and because she knew it's still better than rotting at Tartarus her whole life.

And not only did she die but she did by bleding to death. Let me repeat for those who have trouble grasping what I've just said : In a manga where the heroes can survive having their heart blown to bits, being impaled Kakyoin-style or smashed against buildings like a fly on a windshield, one of the main antagonists died of a fucking hemorrhage…

As for Shigaraki, after learning that his very birth and all the tragedies of his life have been orchestrated by AFO, after all this development and narrative promises about him being saved in the end... Deku just kills him.

Because despite all his speeches about saving him, it seems like the best he could do was beating him both physically and mentally until he crumbles to dust…

Compress on his side is apparently locked up for life and kept alive by machines too.

A begging Kurogiri tried in a desperate attempt to save Shigaraki, only to be unceremoniously blown up by Bakugo and dying off-screen without anyone giving a shit, including Aizawa and Mic.

And Spinner will now spend the rest of his life struggling with the extra quirks inside him that affect his body and mind, while having to cope with the thought that his boyfriend best friend and companions have either died alone or are locked away for life in horrifying circumstances.

Clearly not the same as with the heroes...

Now don't get me wrong, even if they suffered just as much from the consequences of their actions or the plot as the League, this ending would still be a disaster in terms of writing but AT LEAST it wouldn't reek that much of hypocrisy.

[doromoni]

Not Over the Papaya | OP81

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader

Genre : Fluff Smau

A/N : I missed you all 🥺. Again I’m sorry this update took way too long~ Thank you for the people who wished me better (really, ily) . I’m devastated with the news about Logan 😭 poor boy just needed his confidence back I swear.

Face claim : Jennie Kim

Warnings : Cursing, Grammatical Errors

Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

< Previous | Part 8 | Next >

f1wags

f1wags Y/N in the paddock! Welcome back Queen 👑

user1 She’s finally here 😭 We missed you Y/N!!

user2 She’s literally glowing , Oscar’s so lucky!

user3 Are they dating? I thought she was with Lando??

user4 Girl were where you? A LOT has gone down 🙂‍↕️.

user5 Honey let me catch u up. Lando cheated on Y/N with her friend during the winter break. Lando then posted a breakup post stating that the breakup was on both sides and they parted on good terms which Y/N has denied (it was MESSY). Then Oscar and Lily was rumored to have split (they did, Oscar later posted a shady breakup post; Lily was allegedly cheating). Then Y/N and Oscar started hanging out (sometimes with Logan). + After Oscar’s win in Hungary — He was then spotted in America for Y/N’s show the day after. Then they were spotted several times together after and they are now allegedly dating (not yet confirmed).

user3 WHAT.

user4 MESSY RIGHT?!!

user3 Is Lando still with Y/N’s friend??

user5 She’s also in the paddock rn 🤡

user3 wtf?? the audacity??

user6 lando FUMBLED so bad. SO BAD.

user7 Literally not thinking straight. I swear Lando.

oscarpiastri 5 min

story replies

Y/N. I guess soft launches aren’t our thing , Ok understood 🙂‍↕️

oscarpiastri Its not launching if we aren’t officially a thing yet, dear 🫶

Y/N. Oh right!! were only friends babe 🥰

oscarpiastri best of friends, Luv 😘.

Y/N. Ur so annoying , I love you 🙄. Have fun w/ ur interviews

oscarpiastri Thanks dear, Love you more!

charles_leclerc is this a hard launch 👀

oscarpiastri I don’t know, is it??😇

charles_leclerc don’t be smart with me boy . I didnt raise you like this

oscarpiastri you didn’t raise me at all! you were too busy flirting with the dutch boi .

charles_leclerc I—

oscarpiastri you are silenced old man

danielricciardo oi seat stealer, please tell Y/N to answer my messages. She keeps inboxing my messages! I need my cowboy hats 😩

oscarpiastri i prefer to call myself a mental health saver. I guided you back to Red Bull 🤓☝️

danielricciardo And got me my contract money 🤑. Back to the topic! come on pls tell Y/N! she promised me a cowboy hat from florida. pls pls pls

oscarpiastri Its in our luggage, calm down.

danielricciardo Damn “OUR” luggage. I still can’t believe you pulled Y/N from him. Cheers to you mate

oscarpiastri boi you still hold grudges with Lando huh.

danielricciardo him and the entire team can burnn 😀. Im saying this again, mate… watch your back.

oscarpiastri I know danny, you’ve warned me hundreds of times.

landonorris You little shit. You really brought Y/N here. You have the fucking balls huh

oscarpiastri I did, I do . What’s it to you?

landonorris You’ll regret this Oscar.

oscarpiastri Try me.

landonorris I’ll get her back.

oscarpiastri lmao sure you do.

Y/N. 3 min

story replies

oscarpiastri oh hello self! nice seeing you here

Y/N. He’s cute right? Such a pookie

oscarpiastri I’ve seen better 🤷‍♂️

Y/N. Really?? I haven’t. He’s the cutest to me 🥰🥰🥰

oscarpiastri So i assume that we’re ok with posting each other then 🫣

Y/N. Hell yeah! I ain’t hiding you boi. Ur mine.

oscarpiastri Possessive… i like it

Y/N. oh you’re FREAKY.

Y/bf. And Oscar has made the public ig 🥳

Y/N. I assume u approve of Osc then

Y/bf. Out of everyone you’ve dated he’s the most decent

Y/N. Decent 😖

Y/bf. That’s a COMPLIMENT

danielricciardo OI Y/N! don’t ignore my messages!

danielricciardo MY HAT WOMAN! MY HAT

Y/N. OK CHILL! I have it you crazy aussie. Osc will give it to you tomorrow before FP1.

danielricciardo Thank you 😇.

*Incoming call from Norris

Pick up or Decline

Pick up

“Hello?”

“We need to talk. Now”

“I didn’t unblock your number so you could disrespect me”

“I’m sorry… Can we talk in person?”

landonorris 1 min

*messages are disabled

Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now

[junovrsmp4]

one of the girls

part 1. the arrangement

Chris Sturniolo was bad news. You knew it, every girl within a 100 mile radius knew it. Your own brother had warned you to stay away from him, despite being his best friend. That didn’t stop you from wanting him though.

pairing: chris x reader

pt.1 summary: despite all the warnings, and his reputation, you're intrigued by chris. on your 18th birthday, u find out exactly why he's bad news. and like a drug, u get addicted to him. cue, the arrangement

warnings: ABSOLUTE FILTH, very very plot heavy, rough sex, oral, choking, slapping, over-stimulation, mild bdsm, p in v, degradation, slight age gap (reader is 16 and chris is 18 when they first start fooling around, reader is 18 and chris is 20 when they first have penetrative sex)

word count: 6.9K (lmao i think this is going to be a thing)

author's note: so, i found out as i was writing this that @worldlxvlys has a fic with a very similar premise because its inspired by the same song, check it out if u havent already, its so fucking good

It had started out innocently enough.

Chris was your older brother’s best friend, so naturally he was always over at your house or your brother over at his. You remember the first time you’d seen him, sitting on your living room couch, dressed in a black t-shirt and denim shorts, sporting a silver chain. You’d just run down the stairs, yelling for your brother to order you some food when you spotted him. The shock of seeing a complete stranger- a hot one, at that- had you stopping dead in your tracks. You remember how you’d just stared at him like an idiot, before turning around and sprinting back up to your room. You cringe a little, every time you think back to that moment, how you’d been dressed that night, in one of your old sports bras and baggy shorts, your hair an absolute mess.

Awkward first meeting aside, you got to know him, little by little. Sometimes, through little anecdotes reluctantly shared by your brother at your behest, and sometimes, from the man himself. Every time he came over, you’d make excuses to be around him and your brother, and you remember how he’d always smile at you, include you in conversations even when your brother would groan on about how annoying you were being and try to push you back to your room.

So of course, you developed a crush on him.

As a thirteen year old, you would make up cute little scenarios in your head of how you might confess your crush to Chris, and maybe he’d tell you he always liked you too, or maybe, maybe he’d be the one to confess first, with a bashful, awkward smile, and you’d become boyfriend and girlfriend and live happily ever after.

It didn’t take long for you to get over your little fantasies though.

While it hadn’t been obvious to you at thirteen, as you grew older, you witnessed the whirlwind that was Chris Sturniolo, the guy who got every girl’s attention, showed them a good time, and then left them in the dust when he got bored, before moving onto the next.

Your brother, bless his soul, did warn you to stay away from Chris. Had tried multiple times, to tell you how much of a player he was, how he just had a rotation of girls ready to go, and was always looking for someone new to ruin.

“He’s no good,” he’d said. “He’s my best friend, and he’s like a brother to me, but I wouldn’t trust him around you, alone.”

“Why are you friends with someone like that then?” you’d asked.

Your brother hadn’t been able to give you an answer then.

Knowing what you did about Chris didn’t get rid of your interest in him though. You’d long since let go of the silly fantasy of being his girlfriend. It had been a childhood delusion and nothing more, but you still found him…intriguing. The way he commanded every room he walked in, the way every girl around him fell to their knees to be able to service him in some way, the way guys hung around him in hopes of having his appeal somehow rub off on them, it fascinated you.

Even more fascinating was how Chris seemed to be so obviously putting up some sort of front. There was an edge to the cool, suave persona he seemed to be parading in for everyone else.

For every person who told you to stay far, far away from Chris, all they did was stoke the little part of you that wanted to see just what he was really like.

Besides, we all know what they say about curious cats; curiosity may kill them, but satisfaction definitely brings them back.

-------------------------------------

The party was already in full swing by the time you’d made it through the front door. The entire house was lit with flashing lights, bright and blinding, the music so loud it seemed like it almost thrummed straight through the bodies that surrounded you, almost consuming you and swallowing you into the heart of the party.

A party to celebrate the end of an era, and you turning eighteen.

You hadn’t wanted anything crazy, but trust your friends to go behind your back to plan something big.

“It isn’t just your birthday, ya know?” they’d said. “We’re finally done with high school!”

It seemed like they’d invited everyone who was anyone in your town, because you don’t even recognize some of the people at the party. Friends of friends of friends, and so on, you guess. Some were your seniors in high school, who had graduated way before you and your friends. It helped that your birthday and graduation coincided with summer break, because it meant a lot of the older kids were back from college for the holidays, which guaranteed the presence of more…discreet party favors.

The air was thick with smoke, from weed, tobacco, and god knows what else, the humidity only amplifying the feeling of breathlessness you feel every time you’re in a big crowd. You spot your brother and his group of friends huddled together, taking up a section of one of the big couches, all of them nursing beer bottles. All except one.

Chris’ eyes are on you the minute you step through the crowd. Unlike all the other guys sitting beside him, he opted out of drinking, and was instead smoking a joint, plumes of smoke slightly obscuring his face. He looked relaxed, leaned back with one arm stretched over the top of the couch, legs spread out. His eyes scan you from head to toe, and you see the way he glides his tongue across his bottom lip before biting into it. Your breath catches in your throat when he slightly shifts his hips, his eyes flitting down and then back up at you, like he’s silently asking you to go sit on his lap. You almost go over to him, slightly swaying on your feet, before you remember where you are and who’s sitting right next to him. You stand there long enough to see some other girl swoop in and plant herself on his thigh, looping her arms around his neck and leaning close to whisper in his ear.

Your brother spots you just then, and you make a show of pointing a thumb at Chris and rolling your eyes, like you’re not desperately wishing it was you that was on Chris’ lap, before making your way to the make-shift drink station that had been set up on the dinner table, where you find Matt fixing drinks for his friends and himself.

“Hey kid,” he drawls out, bobbing his head to the music, and swaying slightly as he pours drinks for the people around him. “Happy birthday!”

His outburst has everyone nearby yelling out their own wishes, and you thank everyone, accepting side hugs and shoulder pats from a bunch of them. One of them even comments on your outfit, telling you that you looked sexy and asking if you wanted to ‘hang out’ with him for a bit, with a waggle of his eyebrows.

You look down at yourself, flattening your palms over the black mini skirt you were wearing, the length, obscenely short. You’d paired it with a black bralette, a cropped mesh top with a watercolor wine print and platform ankle boots. Your friends had helped you with your hair and makeup, and you knew you looked really fucking sexy, if you did say so yourself.

You yell out a quick thanks but decline the offer to hang out, before asking the Matt to pour you a drink. You can still feel Chris staring, but you don’t dare look back, because looking back would mean giving in to him. Not yet.

You had a game to play after all.

-------------------------------------

Funnily enough, the game between you and Chris had started with a literal game. Specifically, his last lacrosse game for Sommerville High.

You usually didn’t care to go to school events, especially to watch a bunch of people play a sport that you didn’t understand, but it was also your brother’s last game that he’d be playing for your high school, so you’d gone to show your support. Your parents had been there too, and they’d taken a seat next to Chris’ family.

“Oh, this is such a bittersweet moment, isn’t it?” you hear Mary Lou ask your mom, who nods solemnly. They strike up a conversation about their kids, how they grow up oh so fast. It’s funny watching them lean over to talk to each other while Nick sits between them, looking bored out of his mind.

He catches your eye and breaks out into a grin, before politely asking your mom if she’d like to switch seats with him, which she excitedly accepts.

“Never thought I’d see you at one of these,” Nick comments as he looks down at the field, eyes searching for his brothers, you assume. “Want some?”

He’s got a bag of popcorn that he tips your way, and you thank him before grabbing a handful. You make idle conversation for a while, mostly about how he, his brothers and your brother would be graduating soon, and about your classes. You avoid the topic of the triplets ever-growing YouTube channel; you don’t need Nick knowing you obsessively watch every video of theirs.

Nick was a welcome presence; where his brother Chris managed to put you on edge and make you feel hyperaware of his presence, Nick was comforting, grounding.

As disinterested as you are in sports, the energy of the field gets to you eventually, your eyes tracking the same three players, 3, 4, 15, Chris, Matt, your brother, over and over, while listening to Nick chime in occasionally about the score. You have enough awareness to pick up on the energy of the crowd, and it looked like the Sommerville players were doing really fucking well. You watch your brother and Matt make a couple of saves, and Chris going full offense by scoring a bunch of points for the team, all while clutching onto Nick as the two of you cheer each time.

It’s down to the last few minutes of the game, and you watch with bated breath as both teams turn the ball over to score a point or stop the other from scoring.

“Wait, what’s going on?” you ask Nick. With only two minutes left, you notice all the players running to the edge of the field and forming team huddles.

“Timeout,” Nick says before taking a sip of his drink. “Coaches probably want to discuss final strategies with the team, but it won’t make much of a difference at this point. We’re winning this thing!”

“Oh, I see…” you mutter, and your eyes gravitate towards player number 3. You can’t see much of Chris’s face from this distance, but you watch as he swings an arm over your brother’s shoulder. His head tips upward slightly, and for a second, you almost feel like he’s looking right up at you, but that would be crazy.

The game is back on, and you watch as your brother immediately springs into action, trying to get the ball that one of the players on the rival team had managed to grab. A shrill whistle blows, and Nick winces beside you.

“Shit- what’s wrong?”

“Your brother just got a foul, kid,” Nick says with a shake of his head. “He was playing really well though, damn.”

One last minute. You watch as the Sommerville team expertly passes the ball around, going back and forth between a bunch of the guys as the other team tries to bat it from them. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath when you see Chris has the ball now, and with just a few seconds left on the clock, he makes the last score of the game, and the crowd goes fucking wild.

Everything else was a blur after. You remember being ushered onto the field by Nick, your parents joining you as the players all took pictures together, as a team, with their families. You remember seeing Chris’ eyes widen as he took in your presence, before quickly flashing you his signature smirk.

“Look who decided to finally show up for a school game!” he’d said, arms cross over his chest, and you’d remember feeling small under his gaze, holding onto to Nick’s arm to hold back from flinging yourself at him in front of all these people, in front of your family.

The next few minutes had been spent taking pictures, and there was a particular moment when both your mother and Mary Lou had asked for a big group photo, and that’s how you found yourself pressed up between Chris and your brother, who had his arm slung over your shoulder. You still remember the way Chris’ fingers brushed against yours, your breath catching in your throat when, in an extremely bold move, considering you were with your families, he’d linked his pinky with yours.

That’s how it had started. Looks exchanged across rooms, stolen touches hidden from everyone else’s eyes. A pull and push, a game of who’d break first. It was like something that emboldened Chris that day of the game, and he’d test the limits to what you’d allow him to do to you. The goal for him seemed to be to get you to let down the invisible guard you’d put up whenever he was around, to get you to admit something even you weren’t aware of. Your goal was to get your fill of Chris in hopes of satiating whatever curiosity and hunger you had for him before you had to watch him with some other girl as soon as he got bored with you.

There were nights after that game when he’d come over to your house to hang out with your brother when Chris would sneak into your room, under the pretense of going to the bathroom or to grab a snack.

It was during those nights that you’d exchange rushed, heated kisses, Chris grabbing onto your waist while you clutched at his shoulders, pulling him close before quickly pushing him away, breathless. He’d swipe his tongue across his bottom lip before sinking his teeth into it, fighting back the grin that threatened to take over his face.

“Go out with me,” Chris had asked one night, leaning against your dresser and fiddling with the rings you’d left there from earlier that day.

“No, Chris,” you had replied, already back to reading the book he’d pushed out of the way when he’d crawled over you to kiss you. You tried to ignore the way your lips feel swollen and bruised from where he’d bitten them.

“I don't know why you’re playing so hard to get,” he said with her arms crossed over this chest, his lips quirked up in his signature smirk. “You clearly want me- why not date me?”

You can't help but let out a chuckle at that.

“What?”

“Everyone and their mother knows you’re not the dating kind, Chris” you said, with a tight smile. “You’re going to bail the minute it gets too real, before going with one of the other girls in your roster.”

The silence that follows makes you look up from your book, and Chris is watching you with a look you can’t comprehend.

“Touché. So you’re good with being one of my girls then? I just don’t want you to come crying to me later saying you were hoping I’d be your boyfriend or some shit.”

You roll your eyes, hating the way his words made you feel. It was pathetic, chasing after crumbs, knowing you wouldn’t get anything more. You knew what you were getting into, and you weren’t expecting anything more. but it still made you feel like a fool.

“By the way,” Chris begins to speak, arms crossed tightly across his chest, his shoulders stiff. “The only reason I bail-” he says the word with a harsh tone you’d never heard from him before, “-is because all of you seem to have already set your minds on being with me for one thing, and one thing only. Not that I’m too mad about it.”

He’s scowling now, and you see the muscles in his jaw flex, like he’s gritting his teeth. He was definitely mad, about what exactly, you weren’t so sure.

“What do you mean?” you’d asked, but Chris was already walking out of your room.

You’d spent the rest of the night wondering what had gotten Chris angry. There was a part of you, the one that really, really enjoyed Chris’ attention, that was worried you’d pushed him away, but a bigger part of you wondered if this was for the best. You’d gotten more than you’d ever imagined from him, and it was probably best to leave it at this before you ended up getting swept up in…him.

It didn't matter in the end, because that same night, after making a show of leaving out the front door to go back home, he’d snuck back into your room through your window and spent an hour leaving harsh kisses and bites on your lips, your neck and your collarbones.

He was clearly taking out his frustration from earlier on you, his fingers gripping at your waist and thighs as he pressed your body down onto your bed with this own.

He took, and took. Took your breath away with his kisses, took your wrists in his hands, grip tight as he held them down on either side of your head, all while laying claim on you and your body. Just like you wanted him to.

Realizations were made that night, because as soon as Chris had gotten his fill and left, you’d made yourself cum, over and over, as you imagined him being rougher with you, laying his claim on you with harsher, more painful touches to your body.

-------------------------------------

Parties like these really weren’t your scene, but you did enjoy being a fly on the wall, observing all the people around. Drunk teens and young adults giving into more baser instincts, their judgement clouded by the various substances they’d consumed. Some were loud and brazen, engaging in risqué activities right where everyone could see them, some hidden in dark corners, making out with each other.

You’re still nursing your first drink, letting it pull you into a tipsy haze, and you vaguely register the guy standing beside you talking about something you had absolutely no interest in. He’s got one arm against the wall as he leans into your personal space, his lips close to your ear as he speaks, to make sure you can hear him over the loud music. You let out noncommittal hums and nod occasionally to seem like you’re listening, but your eyes are trained on Chris and the girl who’s currently sitting on his lap, a different girl from the one you saw when you first walked in, grinding down on him.

Just as Chris turns his head in your direction, you turn your head towards the guy next to you, bringing your free hand to his and pulling it to rest on your waist. You smile up at him and laugh at a joke he’d just made, something incredibly unfunny and slightly problematic even, before telling him you were going to go grab another drink.

You head into the kitchen, where you get pulled into a conversation with a couple of your former classmates. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Chris slip into the kitchen as well, before he squeezes past you. What no one sees is the way his hand lingers on your lower back as he moves past, dipping low to grab your ass, before quickly moving to the group of people that were also in the room, slinging his arms over the shoulders of two guys before delving into a loud discussion about this seasons lacrosse game.

Heat blooms across your face, and you bite your lower lip to keep from shouting across the kitchen at Chris to just fuck you already, because that wasn’t the plan. You had to have more control than that now, because this was the only time you’d have it tonight.

Your mind wanders back to the several texts you’d exchanged with Chris over the years, after you’d first started your…dalliance with him. They were sparse, you mostly kept your conversations minimal over text, but there had been one night last year, when you hadn’t been able to sleep and had found yourself sending the one text you thought you’d never send to Chris.

> i need something

You’d immediately regretted it. You thought you’d worded it in such a way that you could pass it off, pretend it didn’t happen, or that it was meant for someone else, but you knew Chris would be able to tell exactly what you meant. He would be able to figure out everything you’d thought of him since the past year, every dirty thought, every horny fantasy you’ve had since you first started letting him kiss and touch you, only ever with your clothes on, nothing that progressed past heavily making out and groping each other, leaving you panting and breathless, and him hard.

It was 2 a.m. on a Thursday night and your text could only mean one thing.

You’d put your phone down, trying to go to sleep, hoping that, come morning, if Chris did reply to you, you could pretend you had sent it by mistake, but the anxiousness you felt made you pick your phone back up, and you saw it, the three dots that meant Chris was typing a response.

> U need to go to sleep

That would have been the responsible thing to do. You imagined being bolder, but you were only sixteen, and you had no experience flirting with guys, especially with guys like Chris, so you’d sent off a quick text apologizing, and telling him it was meant for someone else.

> Is that true? Who was it meant for?

> goodnight chris

> Tell me who

> no

> Need is a strong word, almost sounded like u wanted some late night lovin’

You don’t think, you couldn’t think, not with the way your blood rushing in your ears makes you feel slightly faint, and before you know it, you reply with-

> well i feel strongly about it

> Strong feelings can be dangerous

> i want something dangerous

You were being honest. Chris was dangerous. This was dangerous.

> Want? Or need?

> need

There was a long pause, no ellipses indicating Chris was texting back, and for a moment, you think he’d abandoned you, that he was probably texting the many other, more experienced, girls he could be with.

> Dont fall asleep yet. I’ll be there in a bit.

> okay

> So the text WAS meant for me then

> shut up

> :P

The abrupt shift in tone of the conversation had made you giggle a bit, but you remember how you’d waited with bated breath for Chris to show up outside your window, before letting him into your room.

Chris had spent those early morning hours teasing you with his mouth and hands, whispering dirty little things into your ears, coaxing your needs out of you, demanding you tell him exactly what you meant with that text, with one hand wrapped around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you feel breathless but not take away your ability to breathe, because you told him you wanted it, while the other one dipped down into your underwear.

You’re so fucking responsive, even to the slightest touch, he’d said. Everyone thinks you’re such a good girl, but here you are, sneaking around with your brother’s best friend, what would everyone think?

You’d let your body melt under his touch, letting him envelope you with his touch, his words, his scent.

I think about how you’d look with my cock inside you. I think about tasting you. I think about holding you down and fucking you until you can’t hold back your sweet little moans. God, you’re so fucking desperate for my dick, aren’t you?

And you were, you really fucking were, because no matter how much you pretended to be unfazed by him and his touch, the truth of the matter was, every moment you spent with him was followed by you locked up in your room with your fingers desperately pumping in and out of you, imagining how he would fuck you if you actually let him, how he’d open you up and push his dick into you, how you’d be so full of him.

That was the first night he’d touched you, really touched you, the first night you’d cum from fingers that weren’t your own.

A loud laugh accompanied by a friendly slap on the shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts, and you let out a weak chuckle as your friends remark on how out of it you seem, even though you’ve only had one drink. You look up to see Chris looking back at you over his shoulder, and when you meet his eyes, he jerks his head up slightly, and you know exactly what he’s trying to indicate.

Come upstairs.

Your eyes widen and you shake your head as imperceptibly as you can, even though you’re going to do exactly what he wanted, and you see how it gets him excited, because Chris liked being teased, liked how you played so hard to get, and you loved playing it up, acting all coy and innocent when both of you knew otherwise.

You tell your friends you need some fresh air, but instead of making your way out to the backyard, you slowly make your way upstairs, pushing past people and hoping to all powers above that there was at least one room that wasn’t occupied.

You take your time checking every room on the floor, opening doors to people in various stages of undress, quickly yelling out apologies before moving to the next, until finally, you come to a door furthest from the stairs leading up to the floor. It was quieter here, the music from downstairs was almost muffled. You press an ear to the door, and when you don’t hear any noises from the other side, you excitedly turn the handle to open the door, but it doesn’t budge.

Locked. Fuck.

Just as you’re about to turn away, you feel a presence right behind you, the heat of a body. The strong scent of weed washes over you as hands come up to rest on your hips, before warm lips brush over the shell of your ear.

“Look what we have here,” Chris whispers in a teasing tone, sending a tingle up your spine, making your skin break out in goosebumps. You shiver slightly as his arms encircle you, before he rests his chin on your shoulder, looking down at the door knob.

“It’s locked,” you whisper back, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearms.

“I know,” he mumbles, before holding out one of his hands, and you see a set of keys.

“Go on,” Chris says, nuzzling into your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your burning hot skin. You quickly grab the keys and fumble with the lock as Chris’ hands wander down between your thighs, grabbing onto them as he presses into you from behind. You feel his length, not hard yet, but still hard to ignore, and the possibilities of how tonight is going to go has your head reeling.

You finally get the door open, and you stumble inside, Chris not far behind. You watch as he grabs the key out of the lock, before following you in and locking the door from inside this time.

You have half the mind to ask him how he got the keys to the door, how he thought of keeping it locked, but all that goes out of your head when he swivels you around and pushes you up against the wall, one hand cradling your head as his lips descend on yours. His fingers grip the hair at the base of your neck and pull, making your head tip back and you gasp as both pain and pleasure bloom and settle low in your stomach, your thighs clenching, and he takes that as invitation to lick his way into your mouth, his tongue fighting and very quickly winning for dominance. Your knees almost buckle from the intensity of it all, from just how turned on you are.

Here you were, with Chris Sturniolo, your brother’s best friend, pulling at your hair, grabbing you so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your hips and thighs by morning. It was a heady feeling, being wanted, and being wanted by Chris was like experiencing the best high from the best drugs.

Chris lets go of your hair to grab onto your hips, pulling your waist away from the wall and grinding you against him, like you were just here to help him get off, and it still surprises you, how much it turns you on. The thought of being just a body to be used, a body that Chris owns and controls.

Your hands find purchase in his hair as you gasp under the assault of his mouth on yours, his teeth biting into your lower lip and pulling, before going back to twisting his tongue with yours. It’s a messy kiss, rough and just painful enough that it has you wet and dripping. You feel the way your underwear sticks to your folds, and the patheticness of your own arousal turns you on even more.

Chris’s hands snake up your stomach under your top, making it bunch up right below your neck. His gaze is heated as his eyes rove over your body, before he’s pulling your bralette down, and the fabric of it bunches up tight below your breasts, pushing them up further into Chris’ face. He takes no time before licking and sucking on your nipples, groaning as he grinds his growing erection against your thigh.

“Chris- please, please-” you whine, body writhing under his attention, hips bucking as you try and find some relief.

“Stay still,” Chris says, and it almost sounds like a growl, which has the opposite effect to what was intended. Your moans get louder and he bites your nipple, your chest arching off the wall.

Chris straightens up, one of his hands coming up to smack you on the cheek before grabbing you by the chin, forcing your head back against the wall.

“Stay. Still.”

The slap had been more shocking than painful, but it still turns you on, just how rough Chris is being with you right now, and you think about how much rougher you hope it gets.

Chris peers down at you, his grip on your chin relentless. “Will you stay still and quiet?”

You nod against his grip, teeth sinking into your lower lip to hold back a whine.

“Good girl,” he says, thumb stroking your lips before pushing into your mouth. You instantly wrap your lips around it, tongue laving at the tip of it before sucking it deeper into your mouth. You see Chris’ pupils dilate as he watches you, mouth falling open slightly as he heaves deep breaths in and out.

“Take off your panties,” he says as he pulls his thumb away, swiping it over your nipple. He chuckles as you jerk away from the cold, wet touch. His fingers flutter over your skin as you quickly shove your underwear down your legs, and you think about kicking them away, but Chris holds out his hand.

Oh.

You hand over your underwear, soaked from your arousal, to Chris, who pockets it with a smirk.

“Hm, good girl,” Chris mutters, before patting the side of your leg. “Spread your legs.”

You peer up at him through your eyelashes as you spread your legs apart and the cold air in the room hits your heated core, making you quiver.

Chris doesn’t take his time. His body presses up against you as he brings a hand up your skirt and to your core, two fingers sweeping through your folds to gather the wetness that was dripping out of you before pumping them in and out of you, each thrust of his fingers punching a gasp out of you.

The room fills with the wet, obscene sounds of Chris’ fingers squelching in and out of you, and he adds a third finger, twisting and spreading them inside you to stretch you out.

“Fuck, Chris, I need you-” you moan, your hips rolling and pushing down to meet Chris’ fingers. You bare your throat to him as he presses his nose to the spot under your ear, his teeth scraping down your throat. His fingers continue pumping into you, pressing repeatedly at the spongy bundle of nerves that had you clenching around them, and that’s how he gives you your first orgasm of the night.

“You’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?” Chris asks, nipping at your jaw. “Look at how fucking wet you are.”

He steps back and holds up his fingers, glistening from the wetness, and spreads them apart, and you see the strings of your fluids clinging between his fingers, some of it dripping down onto his palm. Your breath catches in your throat when Chris brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them and moaning at your taste. He’d done this before, when he’d fingered you, and it made you squirm each time, seeing this visual confirmation that he enjoyed your taste.

Your eyes flick down to Chris’ crotch, where you see the clear outline of his hard dick, and you realize that this is the first time you’re actually going to have a dick inside you. You remember the first time you’d seen it when you’d asked him if you could suck him off, and he’d had you kneel for him, before pulling it out of his sweatpants and feeding it into your mouth, guiding your head up and down his length, before he’d eventually just jerked off and cum all over your face.

You watch him as he pulls it out now, and you can’t explain how oddly attractive his penis is. You didn’t think you’d find a penis attractive, but Chris’ was. It was long and thick, but not too thick, and it curved slightly to the left. It was ruddy now, from all the blood that had rushed down to it and the head of his dick glistened from the precum that was beading and dripping out of his slit. Chris wraps his hand around it, stroking it slowly to gather his precum and slick it up.

You make a move to step towards him, thinking he’ll move things to the bed, but Chris grabs your hips and turns you to face the wall before lining his body against yours, pushing you into the wall, with your face turned sideways, your cheek pressed down against the cold surface. You hear the telltale sounds of a condom wrapper being torn open and rubber being stretched over skin.

You look back at Chris, eyebrows furrowing, as he hikes your skirt up your ass, lining his cock up against you and grinding it between your cheeks.

“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Chris whispers in your ear, his hand coming up to circle your throat, pushing up to tip your head against his shoulder. You feel his other hand reach down between the two of you, before guiding his dick into you, and your eyes flutter close when the tip slides through your folds to push into you, stretching you. Chris keeps his grip on your throat tight, and braces his other arm against the wall right beside your head.

Your body opens up for him, accepting him into you, as Chris sets a brutal pace, his dick driving in and out of you, leaving you breathless.

“Chris- oh god, f-fuck, ngh-” you whimper, your hands scrambling to grab onto him, one hand clutching at his bicep, while the other comes up to grip the wrist of the hand that is squeezing your throat. “Harder, please- fuck, fuck, fuck- choke me harder-”

“Such a fucking slut, what would everyone think if they knew you were up here begging me to choke you, huh?” Chris rasps out against your temple. “What would your brother think?”

You clench around him, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he continues restricting your airflow, arousal and shame making your blood run hot in equal measure.

“You love being split open on my cock, don’t ya? Your pussy is fucking dripping around it,” he grunts, punctuating his words with harder thrusts into you, the head of his dick hitting the bundle of nerves that has you seeing stars.

“Yes, yes, yes-” you chant, legs quivering as you gush around Chris’ dick. “I’m gonna cum-”

“Yeah? Cum on my dick, c’mon,” Chris rasps, the hand that was braced against the wall moving to rub against your clit, making you buck up against him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight still.”

His fingers rub furious circles over your clit, which has you clenching rhythmically around him, and it doesn’t take long before you cum around Chris’ cock, the force of your orgasm wracking through your body and making you quiver violently.

Chris keeps thrusting into you, chasing his own orgasm, and you’re hit with that thought again, of being owned and controlled by Chris, because it was the truth, wasn’t it? He hadn’t even bothered to get either of you fully undressed, hadn’t taken you to bed, because you were just a means to a satisfying end, a warm body that accepted his rough, painful, attention.

And you loved it.

All you hear are the sounds of skin slapping skin and Chris’ grunts and moans over your own punched out whimpers, and now Chris has both his hands on your hips, gripping them hard as he pulls you back onto his dick, his blunt nails digging into your skin and leaving a delicious burn. You don’t know how long it lasts, but eventually Chris comes with a muffled cry, biting into your clothed shoulder as he fills the condom.

“Fuck,” you breath out, slumping forward against the wall, wincing when Chris pulls out, before bringing two fingers up to glide through your folds, still wet, but now also puffy and raw from the constant rubbing.

Chris guides you towards the bed, and you hold onto him because your legs won’t stop shaking. He helps you fix your clothes, pulling your bralette and top back down your torso and smoothing your skirt down your thighs. He tucks his dick back into his pants before disappearing out of the room with the used, and now tied-up, condom in hand.

You sit on the edge of the bed, dazed and out of breath still, and Chris comes back a few seconds later with a wet towel which he gently swipes between your legs, while kneeling before you, letting out a chuckle and a sheepish ‘sorry’ when you wince and jerk away from the cold and rough towel.

Chris stands back up, and goes to say something when his phone buzzes. He looks down at it, letting out a low whistle at whatever message he’d just received.

“I’ve gotta go,” Chris says, his thumbs flying over his keyboard as he types out messages.

“One of your girls?”

“Huh? Yeah,” Chris says distractedly, before tucking his phone into his pocket. “You going to be okay?”

“Mhmm.”

“Alright, happy birthday again” Chris says, bending forward to place a quick kiss to your cheek before patting the top of your head and leaving.

You flopped back onto the bed, sighing as you push your hair out of your face, your legs rubbing together to try and warm yourself up in the now too-cold room. And it was only then that you realize that Chris had left with your underwear.

Fuck.

> you have my underwear asshole

His reply came much later that night, after you’d already gotten home, using a pair of cycling shorts you’d snagged from the closet in the room Chris had left you in and bunching them up under your skirt to make do as underwear for the rest of the night.

> Oops

author’s note: idek if i like this one y'all (: likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated <3

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@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @slut4mattsturnio1o @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @cutiepiess4l @kvtie44 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @zina25sworld @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @whyarefictionalmennotreal @55sturn @cheetahmadi @sturniolowhore @cupidsword @sturnsblog @lovehoneygirll @breeloveschris @littlemisswhore @worldlxvlys @sturniolo04 @sturnioloco @littlemisswhore @pandacake128 @chrizznmetswife

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

TGCF couples at the beach

Because i want to go to the beach so bad rn

HuaLian:

Hua Cheng isnt too fond of the sun or the water but gege said he'd like to go so they're going.

Everything is fancy and luxurious, only the best for gege.

A large beach bed with a canopy, drinks and snacks served at all times, the whole nine yards.

He wears those fancy sunscreen lotions with foreign names cause he may be dead but he also burns easily and turns into a big baby about it.

Xie Lian insists they dont need to do all that and can just chill in the sand with a towel, which Hua Cheng finds preposterous.

They have a big ass umbrella over the canopy bed too cause the sun is a deadly laser.

So much affection - cuddling, kissing, being all sweet and lovey, feeding each other watermelon and gathering seashells

Theyre sickeningly sweet

Hua Cheng is able to keep his hands to himself for about 5 seconds max

If there are any noisy kids or families around, Hua Cheng sends Yin Yu to scare them off

(They take Yin Yu with for this express purpise but hey free all inclusive vacation, a win is a win)

Xie Lian never burns ever and refuses to wear sunscreen. Hua Cheng pouts about it because 1) dont want gege to get a sunburn and 2) cant teasingly rub lotion over him smh

Hua Cheng builds one of those fancy sand statues of Xie Lian and he thinks its the most romantic thing ever

It is

So many kisses in the water and swimming together all lovey

Hua Cheng is never seen not drinking a margarita

"You do not need to keep your swim trunks that low, San Lang." "Gege, tan lines are terrible."

BeefLeaf

SQX cant get He Xuan out of the water once they arrive to the beach. Nope. That is his habitat now. He belongs to the fishes.

SQX rents out beach chairs by the bar because how can one tan without a drink in hand?

Skimpy swimsuits because SQX also abides by the tan lines are the devil mentality

Manages to get He Xuan out of the water with the promise of ice cream

Talking shit about everyone around while eating ice cream and drinking martinis

So many seashells. He Xuan gives them to SQX as an offering aw

"XuanXuan you cant drown people that say indecent things about me!" "Who says" "the law??"

He Xuan brings SQX little fish he catches if they look colorful or pretty

"XuanXuan, put some tanning oil on my back!" And He Xuan spends like 10 mins trying to find the correct bottle because SQX brought like 50 and the tanning oil SQX wants looks like literally every other bottle there

So many selfies

He Xuan digs tunnels in the sand whenever he isnt in the water. SQX has to talk him into not using the Earth Master shovel

Theyre checking out hot people together

He Xuan puts on sunglasses to pretend he isnt staring at SQX

"XuanXuan you cant throw jellyfish at children!!"

SQX flirts their way into free drinks and He Xuan broods about it but also he is deeply in debt so he can't turn down free shit lmao

FengQing

Arguing, so much arguing, but hey thats their love language

"Thats a shit spot for a towel" "okay find a better one then" "here!" "Thats like a foot away whats the difference??"

Feng Xin refuses to put on sunscreen cause he thinks its not manly

"You cant beat the fucking sun, Feng Xin!"

Mu Qing refuses to get his hair wet. Feng Xin makes it a point to dunk him in the water at least once

Feng Xin falls asleep in the sun like an old man and Mu Qing draws dicks on him with sunscreen lmfao

They argue about who goes to get drinks and snacks and just end up going together

Feng Xin insists to exclusively drink beer until he tries one of Mu Qing's deadly cocktail combinations and hes hooked. He insists they add a little umbrella to his drink now so he and Mu Qing match

Sand castles competition turned chasing into the waves turned underwater kisses

Mu Qing judges everyone and Feng Xin cant help adding in to the commentary because its surprisingly entertaining

Beach sports! Theyre so competitive too so its extra fun and they make bets over everything

[jhuzen]

do you have any thirst hcs for grandpapi neuvi? if you do pls share i’m so hungry 🤲

hydro dragonussy [m.reader]

hello hello, guess who’s back to writing again? this is a warmup because i struggled hard in continuing my kaveh request wip and a buncha scenarios for sick reader w genshin men and jing yuan all at once. on second thought… i think i really shouldn’t have written everything all at once. not to mention i’m trying out quotev to publish my yandere oc/m.reader stuff for fun. + yes that is the title. it’s either that or crybaby old man dragon thirsts. you pick.

𖦹 nsfw, neuvi is a virgin old man, underlying mentions of reader being an attorney (we all know i have a bias for them anyway, have you seen my workload series? lmao), switch male reader, switch neuvi, though we’re heavily leaning on bottom neuvi for this one, honorable mentions of cockwarming and thigh fucking, brief mention of double penetration (reader receiving), gentle and rough sex, implied dacryphilia (you), breeding, fontaine rains whether or not he’s sad, his tears are the rain and i will drink them like a hungry eremite in the sumeru desert.

Let’s face it, Neuvillette has no time outside of his work as the Iudex of Fontaine, he’s constantly buried underneath those paperworks, and on top of that, when he’s not tackling mountains of cases, he’s out in the opera, presiding trial after trial when the Oratrice can already do the same thing for him.

So when you appeared in his life all of a sudden, he was new to all sorts of things. In his long life as a dragon, he has had little experience in what you can offer to him. He’s awkward for the first few moments of your relationship.

It’s the same to sex — you’d have to take initiative in every single little thing, show him the ropes like the good commander you are, and he obeys with no complaints. He sees that you enjoy it, and if you’re good at it and you’re willing to teach him, he is an obedient patient.

Old man’s heads are very clumsy at first, teeth scraping against your length while he slowly but surely bobbed his head. He’s slow, but he treats your little guy with so much care. Looking up at you with tears pricking at the ends of his eyes as he tried to please you as best as he could. Obligatory weather report — it’s a light drizzle in Fontaine.

But when you give him head, Neuvillette squirms, it doesn’t matter where he is, he could not keep himself still. It’s always obvious that even you cannot bring yourself to blow him semi-public in his office, just because you’re afraid a poor innocent little Melusine would come inside and see their beloved leader squirming around traumatize them. It would also be bad for his image if you guys get caught, so… sexy times are inside the comfort of his possibly huge home as much as possible.

Sex with him is slow and intimate, very romantic. What did you expect? He’s from Fontaine and they apparently love to romanticize things. Whether or not who’s on top when you guys are doing it, they are a lot more languid in style, like a moment of relaxation between the two of you.

A switch, though preferably a bottom. Yes, that’s right, old man Neuvillette likes to be serviced. He likes it when you’re the one filling him up so good. It’s hot and heavy, just the way he likes it.

He’s a tired man, so he’s definitely a pillow prince— no, a pillow king. He lays there and takes it like a good boy, only gazing at you with those soft eyes, hazy with love and lust while you continued to push into him. He takes your hand in his every time you enter him and he always squeezes your hand tight the deeper you go in.

Call him romantic and a basic man, but he lives for missionary. He wants to see you while he feels you stuff him full of your cock. He only writhes in the beginning while he tries to adjust around you, squeezing you tight inside him while his breath stutters, trying to take you in all at once.

If he’s the one in charge, it’s all the same, he’s gentle with his actions, though, honestly, he’d rather have you ride him instead. He likes to see you in all your glory, with you rolling your hips in such a needy manner while he kept you grounded, holding onto you as he caressed your thighs. It’s perfect for him.

Oh yeah, and this goes without saying — he’s a dragon, so he has two cocks. Fitting him in is a sport on its own, but you graduated with a major in fucking dragons, so you’re good. He’s a bit thicker on the side too, so each time you take him in, you could feel every inch of him, and every throb of his cocks is a heaven sent feeling that courses through your insides.

Please be gentle with him, he is an old tired man who hasn’t had a break. He is so vanilla that it’s boring but his cries are worth it.

He’s a very quiet man too, his moans are shy and light, a gasp here and there and a tiny whimper with every increment of speed adding into your thrusts.

Neuvillette is definitely the type to squirm and get away from you at first, but you just need to keep him still and hold him down by his thighs before you plow into him. He likes it though when you do it, it reassures him that you want to do this with him and that you’re not letting him go no matter what happens.

Another weather report: a good light rain. Not too heavy.

Now that all the sweet stuff is out of the way, rough sex is not as often as the usual vanilla one, but it’s not completely an uninvited guest between you two.

If you fucked him rough and hard, Neuvillette will cry and break. His poor pristine and unmarked body, filled to the brim with your greedy bite marks and hickeys, glowing red and bruising dark purple that leaves him embarrassed when they’re still around if you somehow managed to weasel in a rough session in the morning before he goes to work and you will be reprimanded for it once he’s home, no exceptions.

“No more of these obvious markings,” he’d say with a stern tone, only to end up face down on the pillow with his ass up while you found a loophole and devoured his entire back instead.

He hates that he can’t see you when you go rough on him, because it’s normally him ending up with his face buried into his pillow while he laid on his stomach, his hips being held up by you while you ruthlessly pounded into him without even an ounce of mercy.

He hates it, but at the same time, it does help with keeping his noise down because when you’re doing him so roughly, Neuvillette wails, he cries hard, with those pretty tears of his not letting up. He’d scream to the high heavens and were it not for the fact that your hand was forcing his head down into his soft pillow, the entirety of Fontaine would hear it.

Again, Neuvillette is a tired old man, so something so rough definitely leaves him drained, you’d constantly have to hold him up halfway through your little session.

Fucking him while he’s on his side and his one leg hooked over your shoulder is a great compromise, with how you can both still see each other Neuvillette can immediately turn his head to hide away into his pillow when he realizes he’s being a little too loud on his own good.

He’s definitely the kind to force himself to be quiet. If you fuck him without anything for him to bite into to hide his loud noises, he will cry and be embarrassed through out, barely even managing to cover his own mouth with his hand without an ounce of struggle while his body jerked up and down, following through every harsh punctuated thrust that you made into him. Weather report: Fontaine has a storm.

Neuvillette cries his heart out every time you go rough, full on sobbing and it is such a turn on. The way he makes garbled noises while he would protest into your roughness, hand gently pushing into yours while he asks for you to be gentler and go a little slower, only to cling helplessly into his pillow when his pleas fell into deaf ears.

His tears are just… divine. He cries so prettily and he does it with unwitting grace and class — somehow, he’s just innately beautiful in every thing that he does. There is no such thing as an unsightly sobbing to this man.

Neuvillette makes this soft noise in between a whimper and a gasp every time you hit his prostate spot on and he just shudders in delight, his breath shaky until he can barely think straight.

Gentle or rough, he’s definitely into breeding. Neuvillette has a breeding kink and anyone who thinks otherwise will sink deeper than Khaenri’ah. Stuff him full of your cum and he’s a happy and satisfied man.

It’s not just the feeling of your hot seed pumping him full that pleases him, but being around the Melusines, treating them like his children despite them being just his subordinates has definitely gotten this old man all too paternal. He likes the premise of being able to build a family with you, and he will nurture your children with all his being.

Thigh fucking? Thigh fucking. Though it’s rare, only when he’s really tired but still aches to please you, and even you’re too lazy to move a lot.

Bother him when he takes work at home by making him cockwarm you. He could not concentrate at all — squirming and squeezing around your cock so deliciously while you teased him about getting his work done.

Has definitely tried wall sex with you, with his back against the wall while you held him up. May or may not have happened at the opera after a heated trial when he ruled against your client and you were pissed your streak of wins on that week crumbled into dust. It’s neither your fault but the client’s, but you’re a sore loser and Neuvillette is a stoic judge.

Call him daddy while you fuck into him and he will break, he’ll go slack, his mind numbed when a rush of dopamine just infiltrated his brain every time you’d call him that.

And after all that, aftercare is a must. Treat your dragon well. He did so much for you, and you broke his old man back after fucking him into oblivion. Clean him nice and well, kiss his tears away, and wrap him tightly in a blanket while you hold him.

[callmerainman]

First Man on the Earth still couldn't hit this | sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

pairing. sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

themes. enemies to lovers, Adam reincarnates as a sinner, Reader is a royal guard.

spoilers! for Hazbin Hotel S1 finale

tw! mentions of sex, suggestive themes in general, the feminism leaving my body as I write for Adam

When Adam came back as a sinner and asked to be redeemed at the Hotel, no one was having that shit lmao.

But, as always, Charlie believes in second chances and it didn't feel right to her to just not let him in.

At only one condition: he would always have to be supervised by you, Lucifer's royal guard.

You were skilfully trained to become a guard at the royal family's services, and Lucifer had just the right mission for you in mind.

You accepted gladly, finally a task that wasn't guarding his rubber ducks.

But then you meet Adam, and you start immediately regretting the ducks.

You both find each other totally INSUFFERABLE.

He hates the idea of someone watching over him, so he lashes at you multiple times a day, as you talk back to him.

"Can't you just not stick your fucking angelic spear in my cereals?"

Despite your hatred for him, you took the mission very seriously and watched over him to check all his moves, just in case he had bad intentions.

But if you could, oh you would have ran away from his repellent presence the second you saw him at the Hotel.

He despises you so much that he doesn't even dare to flirt with you. You heard right. ADAM.

It takes some next level skill to get on his nerves to the point where he doesn't even want to sleep with you. And he remarks it a lot.

You do the same honestly.

"An old hag like you can only DREAM of having a piece of the original dick!"

Your face distorts in disgust "I would rather swallow all of Lucifer's rubber ducks than even think about it!"

At least you agree on something.

So your dynamic mainly consists of fighting, shouting at each other, name calling, pointing at his throat with your spear, Charlie separating you two as soon as you start throwing hands.

Speaking of Charlie, she had some special classes to make you two get along but they made things worse if anything.

One of them lead to the biggest fight you and Adam ever had.

As soon as you both get up to go to your respective rooms, still shouting insults at each other, Angel Dust raises one of his hands.

"Is it me or I sense some unspoken sexual tension?"

Everybody groans in disapproval, but immediately starts placing bets. Angel Dust is the only one who bets that you two will end up fucking.

In your room, you try to cool down but Adam is just making your job impossible. You're in fact fuming just by thinking about him and his stupid pretty face and his way of talking back to you.

Exasperated, you knock at his door, face already hot in anger. You want to set things straight.

As soon as he opens the door and sees you, he's already annoyed.

"You're making my job fucking impossible, you know?! If you really want to redeem yourself maybe you can start collaborating instead of being the most fucking annoying being to ever land in Hell!" you scream, pointing a finger at him.

Adam gets close to your face, towering over you "I'm not the one who asked to have someone fucking glued to my ass, you know?!"

Neither of you noticed your proximity, not until your foreheads were touching and you were breathing heavily against each other's faces, both hot. From anger, or...you know.

And then, something happens.

You both just lean in and kiss.

Oh boy Angel Dust may be onto something.

The moment you and Adam start to make out is the one you realize that all that fighting was your way of denying something that is now obvious.

The magnetic, undeniable sexual tension that wasn't just some weird figment of imagination.

In a matter of seconds you're all over each other and Adam drags you inside his room. You shut the door, just in case.

After you're done you find something else to agree on! 1. Best sex ever 2. No one has to know 3. Never again

You end up having sex again that very same day. And everybody knows because they heard you downstairs. A very lucky day for Angel Dust's finances!

Neither of you knew that the others at the Hotel were aware so you two would try to sneak out to have sex discreetly.

"We'll go upstairs to...uh...FIGHT! You know? Because we always fight! And we're totally not going upstairs to have sex...'cause we would never have sex with each other!"

Except none of that is discreet, you two go absolutely wild at it.

Meanwhile, you and Adam start to open up to each other more, mainly during pillow talk. You find out that you have a common music taste, and humor. Conversations flow so naturally, something that you would have never guessed.

Something blossoms, and you and Adam realize that you are head over heels for each other.

In the end, Charlie brings up to you two that everybody at the Hotel knows that you have been hooking up. On one side, because she's genuinely happy that you two get along in one way or another. Second, Alastor threatened to obliterate you both if you don't stop exposing him to your obscenities.

So you and Adam decide to stop keeping it a secret, to both yourselves and the gang, and officially become a couple.

Let's say that you still are all over him but in a very different way.

The other guests at the Hotel start regretting the times when you two would just shout at each other incoherently.

Lots of PDA, that's the point.

Not in front of Alastor though, you don't want to risk anything.

But what's more redeeming than a really, really, really stupid love?

[g0ldenbritney]

TATE LANGDON ABCS (sfw)꧂

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN🎃..sorry i skipped some letters im a lazy bitch

A = Affection

physical touch for sure, playing with your hair, holding your hand (or holding pinky fingers because thats cutesy as fuck), kissing cheeks and noses (im a SUCKAA for nose kisses and so is he<3). Im just imagining you leaning in to kiss his nose, but he thought you were leaning in for a lip kiss, and it ends up being kinda awkward and you bump into eachother😭😭. Tbh i can’t see him being great at communication especially because he’s a literal teenage boy but though he might now be able to say it he can definitely show it with acts of service like helping with chores

You were at school, trying to focus on your worksheets and actually listening to the teacher speak about..whatever she was teaching, all you can think about is getting back home and all the homework and fuckin chores you had awaiting for you.

once you did get home, you opened the front door and you could smell how good the house smelt, on more exploration the entire house was cleaned and all your chores were done. You walked into your room and your homework was completed on your desk..i mean all the answers were wrong but its the thought that counts.

B = Best friend

Im going with alive Tate for this, I have a mood board on Pinterest for this!! (adrienjoyer)

Sharing cigarettes, sharing cds, sharing shoes, sharing clothes, FREE RAIN OF HIS STUFF. He will let you have anything, need a pencil in class…actually he doesn’t have one either but he will scavenge around for one—and if he only finds one? It’s *our* pencil now. (i need to smack that mans ass on the stairs) (i do that to all my friends) Oh? You have 10 bucks? Well he has 7…that mean its OUR 17 dollars to spend on pizza

(based on a scenario that actually happened to me LMAO 😭😭)

It was late at night, you both were hanging out at your house and it was like 2am, suddenly you both have the craving for pizza..you both counted your cash and quarters, you had 13 bucks in total so you thought a small pizza would fine..yeah no. Tate called up the local Pizza Hut and ordered a small pizza with nothing but cheese and pepperoni and it was 22 FUCKING DOLLARS?? And so you both ran around the house looking for quarters…

you ended up paying the money in quarters to that poor pizza delivery girl at 2am.

C = Cuddles

Depends on how he’s feeling tbh, i can see him as a chest layer. Lying on your chest as you stroke his hair, or the other way around he would be just fine with that as well.

D = Domestic

OF COURSE!! I can see him totally wanting that but like..not till he’s like 30. He wants to do all this stuff first before he settled down, but he definitely wouldn’t mind a partner..some kids, a dog maybe. He’s pretty good at cooking, if you count Kraft mac and cheese and grilled cheese or really anything with cheese.. (the man likes cheese what can i say) and he REFUSES to use a dishwasher, he will be washing dishes old style and you cant stop him.

E = Ending

no.

G = Gentle

Sometimes he might go to far, if you two are just friends and hes joking around and he actually hurts your feelings he would squeeze your shoulder and tell you a quick “sorry.” And it usually makes you feel better. He is very gentle with you when you’re having a bad day maybe just upset or stressed about exams he will maybe rub your shoulders or something and maybe get you to laugh to calm your nerves. If you are in a good mood, hes still gentle, holding you, holding your hands, being careful.

H = Hugs

He loves them!! I dont even care what you have to say or as much as he tries to push you off when you hug him he LOVES HUGS. If you two are just friends and you hug him he might be a little hesitant but he will hug you loosely back. This is totally pointed towards me because im very physically affectionate with my friends and hug them after school everyday, if you, like me, run up to him at his locker and basically throw yourself at him he will laugh and let you hug him and yap. If you’re dating and you hug him he will definitely hug you back and kiss your head :)

I = I love you

He thinks the whole “3 month rule” is bs. He’ll say that shit whenever he wants to. If he wants to say “I love you” immediately after you starting dating god damnit it will happen!!! He definitely says he loves you if you’re just friends to

J = Jealousy

Actual jealous baby

Im just imagining someone flirting with you in class do you immediately tell him as soon as you can because you tell him everything and he genuinely TWEAKS THE FUCK OUTTT, like hes actually geeked

like wdym someone else might have a little crush on you…NO. That person will become his biggest opp and you are told to stay away.

You were in 1st hour and you were assigned partners, luckily you knew the person you were assigned with thought they were a little strange…but they started subtly flirting you. They said sorry for being awkward and they “get nervous around people like you” which sounded like a flirt to you

so when you got to lunch, you immediately told Tate, he literally could run to that kids class right now and fight but he just whips his head around at you

“I hated that guy anyway…stupid.”

K = Kisses

Can range from sweet little ones to full blown makeouts hickeys..he prefers sweet ones on the face in the daylight but at night this man is freaky asf. His kisses are soft and slow but he can be a bit quicker if you really want him to

Q = Quizzes

he had a notebook for stuff about you, if you accidentally drop a little fun fact about you he will know about it and he will write it down, ranging from your favorite juice or if you have a mole under your jaw. He knows it all. If he ever forgot anything and i mean ANYTHING about you I dont think he would forgive himself

T = Try

Tbh i dont think he would put a lot of effort in, he just likes to be around you. (Though the mcdonalds dates are FIRE.) he likes having sleepovers with you at tour house only, watching movies, eating snacks till you feel ill, cuddling, if you’re down to get Applebees that would be even better and you would both ask the waiter for the gummy sharks in your sweet drinks separately (yes ive done that before). But if you really really wanted anice romantic date maybe he would give you flowers or something

U = Ugly

Nail biting (you put bandaids over his nails so he’ll stop :)), excessive social media usage (this guys is chronically online holly shit freaking 4chan user), ive always imagined him little tics, like twitching when hes anxious.

X = Xtra

i want to bake him a cake

Z = Zzz

THIS MAN CAN NEVER SLEEP ISTG

he tosses and turns but no matter what he cant sleep without you or if you give him a stuffed animal

OHH MY GODD IF YOU GIVE HIM A STUFFED ANIMAL I CANT

imagine him holding and cuddling it, and i know this doesnt relate to sleep but imagine him being all sad and crying into it because it reminds him of you😭

[yowumi]

Hotshot surgeon Gojo x Medical Student Reader Ft. Hotshot Surgeon Suguru [ modern au ] TW. Pregnancy & Love Triangle

Shotgun Wedding CH. 01 | one night, forever?

Summary. Satoru Gojo, The states #1 Neurosurgeon, known for his wealthy clan. He was known for his success, parties, and his willingness to fuck anybody and everybody in a 10 mile radius. Unfortunately, one unlucky night, you make the wise decision to do what any hard working young medical student would do when faced with a sexy doctor…you sleep with him in which changes your life forever.

.

.

.

Warnings. Accidental pregnancy, no protection (wrap it before you tap it), love triangle, roommates (they all live together), arranged marriage, satoru is a bit of a meanie, plot twists, angst, smut, you only end up with one.

A/N. this is my first time writing a fanfic, although i’ve always wanted to! i’m always open to take constructive criticism or any tips to make my writing better! I hope you guys enjoy and definitely lemme know if you have any suggestions, read well luv <3

keep up! // ch. 1 // ch. 2 (coming soon)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

12:09

one, two, three…

this can’t be right, why do these all say positive, there isn’t any possible way this could be happening. You were only twenty two, this can’t be happening.

positive

positive

positive.

the plus sign on the pregnancy test is clear as day. you were pregnant. this had to be some mistake, you can’t even remember the last time you’ve got it on with someone let alone let anyone not use protection.

you’ve always been way too cautious, especially with your mother being a young mother herself, always so strict when it came to boys and using protection.

how could you fuck up this bad?

a tear falls from your face, before many more. you can’t hold it together, not now. you can’t be a mother? you don’t even know who the father is. this is all too much.

beep, beep

Incoming Call: King Nobara

you look at the dumb contact name you and nobara made up one night while you were drunk recalling the night where she had yuji bow down to her passing her drinks while pronouncing her ‘King Nobara’ for getting the drunkest.

You send it to voicemail, there’s no way you could face her right now. nobara would burn down the city if she knew her best friend was crying.

ding

King Nobara: omgggg im so hungover from last night, yuji said him and gumi had to force me out lmao

King Nobara: where did you go btw i was tryna find you all night, last i saw you were with doctor save a hoe 🍆💦

fuck.

14 hours ago.

“Oh my god i can’t believe Shoko invited us here, there’s so many hotties! Oh my god is that Maki Zenin” She slaps your arm playfully trying to grab your attention towards Maki Zenin.

Maki Zenin, She wasn’t a big shot surgeon but she was a quick learner, being the first in her class to get an internship at only nineteen years old, making a special exception straight out of high school. Nobara is a total fangirl for her, admiring her for being a ‘girl boss’ and her beauty.

some would even say Nobara had a little crush, although she would never admit it.

“aren’t we supposed to be here for work” Megumi makes a remark towards Nobara and Yuji who are already shoving wine down their throats.

“Hey man take advantage of the free alcohol, this shit is nothing like cheep shit we get, taste it gumi!” Yuji hands Megumi a glass looking at him like an excited puppy.

Megumi rolls his eyes and takes a sip.

“Whatever, i just hope I don’t see Gojo, he’s always pestering me about how I should let him mentor me.” Megumi gets all creeped out from the thought of Gojo.

Apparently he has known Gumi since he was a kid, they are about 8 years apart in age.

Megumi hates him.

“He’s the #1 Neurosurgeon in tokyo, it isn’t a horrible idea” You suggest, “Being close to someone like that itself is a blessing, he could totally help you out”

“Yeah i hear he’s like loaded rich! he could pay for like your dog food and shit since you buy that crap every day!” Nobara slurs her words and laughs,

Megumi has a lot of pets surprisingly, Nobara likes to joke that he’s ‘Snow White’. He really does buy a lot of dog food though to be fair, his dogs are huge.

“No amount of money is worth spending time with that maniac, I’d rather buy dog food every hour” He finishes his drink

This talk of Gojo is getting him worked up, “His best friend isn’t that bad though, I hear he’s a respectable man and good at his studies” Megumi adds,

“Oh what’s his name! uh Gojo-“ Yuji tries to think of who he’s talking about, the mention of Gojo makes megumi shoot Yuji a glare, “-OH! I KNOW! I KNOW! GETO!” he says excitedly as if he just figured out the hardest puzzle in the world,

Nobara cheers Yuji on, and you take a sip of your drink admiring their immaturity. Something you and Megumi can appreciate from them is how they always keep a light attitude. The pressure of school and work was draining and keeping a light attitude constantly couldn’t be easy.

You all look over to find Geto before Nobara points towards him, “oh my gosh he’s so handsome, you should totally talk to him y/n he’s ogling you like crazy! you need to get over that stupid choso anyways” She says grabbing your arm to motion you towards him,

“ugh don’t remind me, i don’t want to think of that asshole” You say, chugging down drinks before you could think any longer.

Before you knew it, Geto was walking towards you, you suddenly felt nervous, his presence was intimidating. Anyone can argue his beauty is unmatched, he has such a romantic aspect to him, looking at him looks like love itself, you’re struggling to keep your composure.

“Hello, you must be y/n l/n, I’ve heard lots about you, I couldn’t help but introduce myself” He says with a charming smile,

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I admire your medical expertise” You say entranced in his eyes, it felt like he was staring into your soul.

“No need to be so formal, you can call me Suguru if you’d like” He says while taking your hand and kissing it, you realize Nobara has disappeared somewhere.

“You should come by my office sometime, I would be interested in talking more with you soon, i’m afraid i’ve grown too tired to stay here any longer, have to hide before Satoru brings me into some trouble” He laughs off at the mention of Satoru,

Wow, Satoru Gojo really wasn’t a good influence, huh?

You nod and say you’re goodbyes as you watch as he leaves with a blonde man. Nanami Kento, Tokyo’s #1 Obstetrician.

You wander off barely holding yourself up as you bump into someone nearly causing you to fall over. “M-my apologies” You say slurring your words as you look up to see a tall white haired man, he looked like an angel.

His blue eyes pierced you as he smirks and says “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, i was in the way, how about I buy you a drink for my stupidity” He flirts

and it’s working.

You nod and he pulls you gently over to sit down in a corner, there wasn’t many people here, almost everyone left.

As you guys pile up on drinks, you both become ridiculously drunk, talking about debt and studies and about your career, until you both could barely think.

You both just sit in a comfortable silence for a while, before you see the white man slowly pull you into a kiss, his lips were soft and you could smell the cologne on him, he smelt really good.

You’re hand wrapped around his neck, you look around before going any further realizing you two were the only ones left. You get on top of him and sit on his lap as he pulls you closer, tracing the arch of your back.

He holds your hips down on him, feeling the bulge in his dress pants. The kiss deepened as he laid you down on the booth, placing his jacket under you for comfort without pulling away from the kiss once.

He slowly plants kisses down your chest, “you’re beautiful” he breaks away before unbuckling his pants and pulling them down just enough to pull out his dick.

He unbuttoned his shirt next to show his muscular body, you traced the lines of his abs with your fingers before going down to his v line, he groaned a little before lifting up the dress you were wearing to take your underwear off, grabbing one of your clothed plump boobs that were barely staying in the dress.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, promise princess, gonna make this pussy mine” he says as he places his dick against your core, feeling him twitch against your clit earning a moan from you and for him to buck his hips closer.

He enters you and he swears he’s seeing stars as he thrusts into you greedily, he’s slurring his words as he mutters things about how “it’s mine, gonna cum in this pussy” he says feeling himself become closer the longer he’s inside of you.

you haven’t gotten any action in so long, you haven’t even been on the pill, this didn’t cross your mind in the moment of course. Who would think about that when Satoru Gojo is saying he wants to cum inside of you?

“shit, fucking gonna cum inside, so tight, gonna breed you so well, say it. say you’ll let me breed a sweet little baby into you, fuck” he groaned letting lose of the little composure he had before.

“cum inside me, Satoru, want you to put a baby inside of me” and with those words Satoru whimpered in your ear as he kept thrusting hard feeling cum ache out of his balls, filling you up to the brim.

This happened about 3 more times before he had your drive drop you off at home where you’re roommate, Megumi had to carry you inside and he gives Gojo a disgusted look.

After laying you down he leaned down on the car door, where Gojo slowly rolled down the window and looked like a child on trouble.

“What the fuck did you do, Satoru. She is barely conscious.” He says with anger in his voice. He knew Satoru wouldn’t do anything without consent but he wouldn’t be surprised if he took advantage of his pretty privilege with drunk woman.

“So am i, Gumi” he says barely able to stay awake for this conversation.

“Whatever just leave her alone, she isn’t one of your girls, she’s my friend and she has potential to be more than one of your little interns” He says while walking off

In the moment Satoru was glad Megumi left because he was on the verge of passing out. He didn’t think you were one of his little interns, he was listening when you were speaking about your goals and dreams of being a doctor. He really wasn’t trying to get into your pants, but he knew Suguru was been eye balling you for weeks, so he already felt regretful for sleeping with you.

back to the present

you’re brought back from your thoughts when you hear a knock on your door startling you from your head as you take a second to clear your voice so it doesn’t sound like you were crying.

“You alright in there? i heard a noise” Megumi’s voice echos through the door and you grab your composure, wiping away your tears before opening the door.

you put on a smile, “yeah sorry i’m just really hungover, you can come in” you offer noticing he brought you a coffee.

you both sit on the bed before megumi breaks the silence, “Gojo dropped you off last night, are you okay? he didn’t make you join an orgy or something right?” he asks concerned.

You and megumi have been friends since you were kids, his big sister was your best friend before her death in middle school, ever since then you and megumi have been pretty close, you were almost like family. sharing a mutual grief and love for someone close to each other.

“No, he didn’t do anything like that, I promise” you laugh off and he stares for a while trying to find any discomfort in your words before believing your words.

ding

King Nobara: OH YEAH AND YUJI KISSED MEGUMI LAST NIGHT!!!! DONT TELL HIM I TOLD YOU

The phone was on the bed facing right towards you and megumi before his face turns red and he flips the phone over.

you’re face brightens at this news, “Megumi! you have to tell me about this right now, hold on let’s all have a group call!” you say laughing heading towards your phone before he chases you down for it.

You: TELL ME ALL THE DETAILS.

“NO!” He raises his voice a little, face burning red, “I’m not talking to itadori.” He states, looking away in embarrassment.

ding

megumi looks up with wide eyes, “Wait!” he says flustered trying to reach for the phone.

King Nobara: MEGUMI KISSED HIM FIRST

Megumi lays his head in his hands and faces towards the wall like a child who has been punished. “WHAAAAT” you say laughing as you poke at his sides trying to get it out of him.

“I’m leaving now.” he says walking away with hands still in his hands as he goes to find the leashes for his dogs.

you laugh as he walks away.

“Wait Gumi! quick question” you say stopping him, hesitated if you should ask him

He stops at his tracks and turns towards you raising an eye brow in acknowledgement,

“Can you give me Satoru Gojo’s Address”

he looks away almost in disappointment before writing it down on a sticky note before heading out the door, before closing it he pauses before saying, “be careful, y/n”

Now that you have his address, you head off to find his house

knock knock knock

Your nerves were going crazy, like at any moment you would explode. How were you even supposed to tell this to him?

Oh hey! I know your probably don’t remember me because we were hammered but you actually got me pregnant haha surprise!

What were you thinking, as if he would even care. If anything he was gonna tell you to go away or that you were crazy or threaten your career so you will get rid of it.

A rich asshole doesn’t want his life interrupted by this.

Before you turn to leave, you hear the door swing open revealing a familiar face.

Suguru Geto

He looks surprised to see you, he’s most likely thinking ‘how did this crazy chic find my place’

Damnit megumi gave you the wrong address, this is so embarrassing, you should just go home and eat ice cream while crying about how utterly stupid you are.

“Oh, i’m so sorry- this is so weird uh i thought this was Gojo’s house, megumi gave me an address and he gave me the wrong one, so sorry! uh i’ll be going now..” you say looking down in embarrassment, it stays silent for a while before you hear him laugh.

Why is he laughing?

“May i ask why you’re looking for Gojo?” he asks in curiosity,

You try and think fast of an excuse to use, what could you possibly tell him, there was no good excuse to be at his house, it’s not like you guys were friends.

So you do the most believable excuse you could give him.

“I left my uh underwear at his place and i came to pick it up but i was too hammered to remember the place!” you say, that had to be convincing, right?

He nods in amusement,

“aw that’s interesting. Satoru came home alone last night, I would know I live here as well” And now you feel stupid.

Fuck.

“So uh this is his house then…” you say,

Suguru nods slowly before you see Satoru call out for Suguru, approaching the door, shirt off and only in pajama pants.

His eyes widen when he sees you, Suguru can’t know about what happened last night, oh he’s fucked. He has to play it off like he doesn’t know you, it’s for the best.

You look at him in worry, he wonders if something is wrong with the way she’s looking at him. Suguru looks towards him with a smirk but he knew Suguru was pissed by the way he didn’t look him in the eye.

“You have a visitor, Satoru.” He says before leaving back into the house.

Satoru looks at you now, “Hey” he says awkwardly rubbing his head, he somehow feels like your gonna yell at him, he feels like he’s in trouble.

You take a baggie out of your pocket that showed the three pregnancy tests, all positive.

He looks confused at first before he sees it for himself, his eyes widen, fuck.

“What the hell are these fake?! I can’t be the father, haven’t you slept with anyone else lately?!” He says in a panic not realizing how aggressive he is coming off

You shake your head no, feeling tears fall from your eyes

“You can’t keep it! Suguru would kill me, your career is at stake! my career is on the line! It isn’t mine!” He starts freaking out, how could he fuck up this bad

“I can raise it on my own, this was stupid! I knew i should have never told you, you only care about yourself!” you yell before you try and walk away and he grabs your hand.

He takes a moment to get his composure back, to get himself together. “let’s just, let’s sit down” He says calmly not looking you in the eye.

You sit down and you both don’t say a word for a few minutes, satoru runs his hands over his hair and you lay your head in your lap.

Hiding the fact that it’s Satoru Gojo’s child would be very hard, his clans genes are very strong, your child is bound to have his signature white hair and blue eyes.

The only man with those features. It would be puzzled together with no problem, you don’t have any of those features. Would you really have to abort the baby?

You didn’t plan on being a mother but…

it doesn’t mean you didn’t want to be.

“I’m keeping the baby. You don’t have to be in its life if you don’t want to. I understand.” You grab your bag and stand up.

“I will be in the child’s life, it isn’t fair to just leave you with a child, i’m not an asshole. It’s my fault in the first place, I will accept it, eventually.” He said looking down in his hands, for once he seemed mature, like he was serious about what he was saying.

“Are you sure?”

He nods.

“Thank you for showing me, y/n” He looks up and softly smiles, he felt sorry for how he just stressed you out, the least he could do was offer a comforting smile, he wanted to be there for her.

“You live with Megumi right?” He asks even though he knows the answer. You nod.

“That wont do, you will move your things here, there are two doctors here and a maid to watch over you and Gumi’s place isn’t big enough for a baby” He says but it’s almost demanding.

“What do i tell him?” You ask, how were you gonna tell your friends this, Megumi is gonna be so disappointed.

“Dunno, it’s up to you, I wont tell him anything until you do so it’s up to you, you don’t need your bed and stuff, just get what you need, we can get it now” He says going in his house to get his keys, seeing Suguru looking at him from behind the kitchen island.

You walk in as he grabs his keys and look at the floor, still in your head about all of this.

“Where are y’all heading” Suguru asks, sipping on his coffee like a dad interrogating his daughter. Which in this case his daughter is Satoru.

“Getting her stuff, she’s gonna move in here” He says, he knows what he did was messed up to Suguru but he didn’t feel like he owed him an explanation, not now. He still needed to process it himself.

Suguru says nothing to Satoru and turns towards you instead, he places a soft smile of hospitality towards you, “Well make yourself at home” He says before walking off not even looking at Satoru as he walks off.

The rest of the night, Satoru takes you to your apartment so you can pack your things, he helps you and thankfully Megumi isn’t home so it makes things easier. Satoru would get a mouthful from him for sure.

Before packing the last of your things, you leave the money for the bills you pay and a sticky note,

What were you supposed to say?

“I’m going to be moving, found somewhere to stay, thank you for letting me stay with you Gumi, you have my number if anything, the keys are under the mat” and you stick it on top of the money before heading out.

The car ride home is silent, leaving you and satoru both in your thoughts. A man you just met yesterday got you pregnant, and now you’re going to live with him.

Not to mention, you are living with Tokyo’s finest and best surgeons in the country.

How did you get here?

.

.

.

A/N. OMG i just realized that reader wouldn’t be able to find out she’s pregnant just after one night but i already wrote it and don’t feel like changing it soooo let’s just not pay attention to that mistake…

TAG LIST: @jeannieboys @maskedpacific @muimuiwisteria

take me to the next chapter! (coming soon…)

[a-ikuoliver]

Mercury your event is SO cute I’m actually obsessed! I’m such a beer girlie, but if I had to pick a drink it’s gotta be a jägerbomb! And for the character you pick because I want you to be as free as possible I’m ready for anything👀

ehehehe i was a lil cheeky with this one, i leaned more into the leave you wanting more vibe with the jagerbomb also im sorry for the lack of beer i've never met a beer or cider i've liked LMAO i was going to make this endeavor but the more i wrote it the more it worked better with bakugou but i hope u like it!! teehee birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

anyone who wasn’t a couple jagerbombs deep could tell you how bad of an idea jagerbombs are at an work party, but when you work at one of the most popular bars in musutafu, it’s more a rite of passage.

not even here a year, your work-best friend was the very first to inform you of the notorious annual work party, how messy they get, how she’d gone home with the chef one year, and how many servers had crashed in the booths over the years. finally, the time had come for the party, your friend already abandoning you to flirt with the chef again, although, you couldn’t play the morally high act about it when all your attention was on your boss behind the counter.

walking behind the bar, you perused the liquor on offer, mostly mid-tier stuff, but god, did the imported stuff look good right about now, something smooth to take your mind off of him. fuck, why’d he have to roll his sleeves up like that? his forearm muscles enough to make you wonder what else lies beneath that damn shirt, an endless expanse of muscles underneath a wife-pleaser singlet, thick thighs caged in his expensive slacks.

“need some help?” lost in your daydream, bakugou is beside you before you realise how long you’ve been ogling him, your indecisive daze in front of the alcohol drawing his attention (any excuse to talk to you, really). you’re nowhere near drunk enough for him to be this close, to get this messy. yet.

“you don’t have my beer on tap.” his eyes nearly roll back at your sweet tone, your gentle teasing that’s been driving him up the wall for months. he stays steadfast, dark garnet eyes unwavering, despite the top you’d worn specifically for them to wander.

“let me make it up to you,” he takes another step closer, the expensive scent of his cologne filling your lungs when he reaches around you for the distinct green bottle, trapping you between his biceps for a fleeting moment, “we’ll do something i used to have in my party days.”

grabbing two pint glasses and two shot glasses, you watch him work with the kind of swiftness and expertise decades behind a bar could give a man, every twist of his wrist calculates, not a single drop of jagermeister or redbull spilling, even when the latter threatened to bubble over the top of the glass.

“you used to do jagerbombs?” you can’t help but sound incredulous, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline when you accept the drink from him. mesmerised as he pours his own, you try to imagine him younger, chugging back the bomb, swallowing shot after shot, stumbling home in the am. even in your daydream, his hair had speckles of salt through the blond of his hair, the silver fox look worked too well for him to see him any other way.

“why are you so shocked? i was twenty once.”

“it’s hard to imagine you… like that.”

“like what?”

“you know, a party animal, i can only see you drinking bourbon on the rocks.” he chuckles at the memories, of sleepless nights, of horrendous hangovers.

“i could still drink you under the table.” he challenges, already reaching to pour another, you try not to laugh in his face, the image of your all-powerful boss drunk and stumbling was something you’d pay to see. with a smile you could only describe as evil, hot, you clinked your drink with his before knocking it back, “sure you can, old man.”

after too many bombs, an assortment of other shots, some cocktail bakugou poured you and a sip (you weren’t game enough to have more of it, there’s a reason you weren’t a bartender) of the one you poured him, the pair of you stumbled into his office at the back of the bar. half the buttons are undone on his shirt, your hands sliding beneath the hem of his shirt even when he pulled away from you long enough to unlock the door, pulling you inside with him and nudge it closed once more before turning all his attention back to you; the way you stared up at him with glassy eyes, the way your lipstick smudged under your bottom lip, how your chest heaved (the way your tits looked when you did), how your dress rode up when you pulled yourself onto his desk, tugging him in by his belt loops.

he can’t even find it in him to care about the time-sheets crinkling under your ass when you bite your lip, can’t care you’re his employee and his mind goes blank of everything when you wrap your thighs around his hips. fuck, you’re irresistible like this; arching into him, kissing and biting his jaw, one hand tugging your dress further up your thighs, the other working off his belt to slide into his slacks, searching for more and more, more he wants to give you.

you’re just so, so, so hot… and he’s soft. he’s fucking soft. he finally has you under him and he can’t get it up.

let’s hope the alcohol buzzing through your blood is enough to clear your memory of this in the morning.

[bellewintersroe]

Carlos Sainz x Celebrity OC Mer&Der trope… Part 1.

For all those who’s seen Greys Anatomy you’ll know exactly how Meredith& Derek got together and that’s gonna be the trope for this story. If you haven’t seen Greys then it’s fine, but OC is a celebrity hired as a reporter during the Grands Prix of 2021. Anyway, I won’t spoil anything further…

AN- I tried to use the name Molly Ashley as the OC name but because I’m so used to writing OC as Jenny or Jennifer that I kept slipping up so just stuck to that, but altered it to Jenna just to switch it up, so if there’s any errors that’s why!!! (Was going to use Belle my real name but it kinda made me cringe). warnings - mentions of sex, maybe a slow start, nothing too graphic… yet. Excuse my lack of F1 knowledge I’m trying my best lmao

“Ahh there she is!” Ted Kravitz, the infamous F1 grid walk reporter exclaimed, grinning as I hurried in, panting desperately as I scurried into the room. “Sorry, I had to run!” I placed both hands on my knees, holding the papers I’d sprinted back to my hotel room to gather before making it back here in a record time of six minutes. I’d run for six minutes flat- and I hadn’t run a singular meter since secondary school. 20 year old me was aging bad.

“Almost beat a world record there!” Oh my god, Jenson fucking Button was stood right in front of me and I was practically wheezing for air. Not to mention I was violently hungover from last nights party. Sky reporters and the crew went a lot harder than I ever could have imagined…

“Hello! Sorry, I’m so out of breath.” I stood up straighter, shaking his hand as I handed over the papers to once of the producers who needed them. “It’s lovely to meet you! I’m Jensen” He laughed as I attempted to laugh back, but it just came out as a breathless wheeze. “I’m Jenna!” I managed to speak as he smiled, patting my upper back. “I’ll let you die in peace.” “Not just yet! Are you ready to interview some drivers, Jen?” Lisa, the woman who hired me headed over. She was like the CEO of F1 reporters for Sky, I didn’t know how it worked, but I was bloody glad she was here to guide me. “Just about.” I managed to stand up straighter. Nicole, the makeup artist, and Sebastian, the hairstylist, both headed over to touch me up- something I found myself enjoying a little too much. These people made me look better than anybody I’d ever had done my hair or makeup, I was starting to rely on them to make me look human, especially after last night.

“Well your first up with Max Verstappen, he was second to Lewis in Bahrain, will definitely be pushing for first today.”

“Oh yes! I know Max.” I waved my hand, I’d befriended Max two nights ago when all the drivers were out. “Yeah, Max and Charles looked to have a lot of fun with you the other night.” Lisa teased. Long story short, we’d taken one too many shots and Max Verstappen had thrown up over the side of a bridge into an Italian canal below. Classic.

Knowing my first interview ever was just with Max was reassuring. It made it all way less intimidating, even if the interview didn’t go so smoothly, it was entertaining and that’s exactly what I was hired for. “If you win how are you gonna celebrate?” I asked, holding the mic towards him. “You know exactly how!” Max began cracking up as I attempted to hold back my laughter. “Did you know your sky presenter can drink men under the table?” He slung an arm around me, tugging me to face the camera directly. I gasped and instantly began speaking again. “Well good luck today Max!! Wishing you all the best!” He laughed out loud as I changed the subject abruptly. “Thank you!” He laughed giving me a quick hug, “and you’ll be out tonight, yeah?” He asked as I nodded. “Sure.” “Hopefully not sneaking off with-“

“Oh, no, no, no!” My eyes widened, preventing him from finishing that sentence. Last night I’d got home with a man- another driver to be precise. It seems news spread quick amongst drivers and the grid. Max smirked and gave my one last goodbye before I moved on to interview a couple more celebrities lined up on the grid, waiting for the race to start. Interviewing random people there was far more easier than the drivers, when it came my time to head back over to where Ferrari were preparing on the grid I felt my chest tighten.

“Uh, Lisa, who’s my next interview with?”

“Well, just grab whoever you can, you’ve been doing so great at that so far, but next you are interviewing…” she scrolled down on her phone screen. Whilst I awaited her answer, I felt my heart rate increase, as if the hungover palpitations weren’t enough, this was giving me full blown anxiety. My eyes scanned over the grid, seeing two men dressed in their red Ferrari gear, it seemed they were awaiting me, looking over in the distance. Charles Leclerc and-

“Carlos Sainz!” Fuck! Simultaneous to Lisa saying his name there was a quick. “Yes?!” Following this, a body appeared besides mine and I was momentarily breathless, Carlos Sainz. The exact man I’d slept with only 12 hours prior and woken up next to in bed this morning. A series of flashback swept through me followed by a serious swooning as my eyes gazed up to the taller man. A pair of his dark eyes met my own gaze, and I saw him physically react. Eyes widened, mouth slightly parted. His gloved hand moved up to touch his chest, I wondered if his heart had leapt the exact same way mine had? “Carlos Sainz?!” I took a deep breath, forcing a smile as I remembered the cameras were rolling. “Hola!” He greeted, surprise lacing his tone, he hesitated slightly, waiting for my reaction before moving closer and greeting me to a kiss either side of my cheek. I gulped at the contact, the close proximity wafting the scent of his cologne, the exact same one that was plastered over my pillow cases. Double fuck! He was somehow even sexier now I was sober! “Jenna Ashley.” He laughed a little breathlessly as I remembered, judging by the flag on his front, he was Spanish. Duh. “Hola.” I giggled, knowing my face was just as vibrant as his uniform. I could feel Lisa eyeing me up from the sidelines of the interview.

“¿Hablas español?” (Do you speak Spanish?) he asked immediately, eyebrows perking, he seemed slightly nervous, unable to hold eye contact. I didn’t know if that was the awkwardness from the fact the man was quite literally inside of me last night.

“Uhhh, un poco. Pero hablemos en ingles o no les gusto.” (a little, but let’s talk in English or they wont like me). I slowly translated, glancing back to the clueless cameraman and Lisa. I think that made sense, my nerves mixed with my limited Spanish probably made me speak like a child. Carlos laughed in response, rubbing his hands on his uniform. I then went through a series of questions, finding it hard not to giggle with him right in front of me. I was reduced to the behaviour of a school girl. “How are you gonna celebrate if you win today? Or if you don’t win?!” “Any way possible… now there’s no COVID restrictions!” He inhaled excitedly. “Sounds good to me.” I glanced back at the camera, feeling his eyes lingering over me.

“Thank you, Carlos, it’s been a pleasure, good luck for today! I wish you the best.” I laughed, barely being able to maintain eye contact with him as his plump lips stretched into a happy smile. God, he was perfect, tanned skin, Spanish accent, insanely nice, polite, perfect mop of hair, and don’t get me started on those eyes, he had me swooning like I was straight out of a cartoon. “Gracias… thank you.” Carlos nodded down to me and the camera as I flashed him a small smile, stealing another glimpse at him through my eyelashes as he cleared his throat slightly once the camera was turned away. I could feel his eyes burning holes into me, I couldn’t tell if he was checking me out or if he was entirely baffled by the situation. I swallowed the lingering anxiety I felt, tensing my jaw at the thought of him scanning over my face. “Good luck.” I then flashed him another smile to combat the awkwardness as he stepped a little closer. “N-no sabia que ibas-“ (I did not know you were going-) he stammered, but his words fell short when I was being ushered onto my next interview. “I promise I’ll let you mingle afterwards! I’m sorry!” Lisa apologised, attempting to move me on. I turned back up to Carlos, opening my mouth but my words fell short. When we made eye contact once more I felt the butterflies in my stomach, the cliche way my heart jumped, and that knot in my chest tightening. It was all happening at once. “Good luck again!” I politely nodded as he offered me another genuine smile, eyes lingering over my face, as though he was trying to analyse my features. Pffft, it wasn’t like he didn’t have chance to do that last night. Talking about last night… my mind roamed back to the events of the night before, clouded from the mix of alcohol and sex that plagued my mind.

[skylark325]

Omniscient Readers View Point Read Through

Ch 53-73

Beginning: Ch 1-10

They knew the prophets would gather here and decided to use this opportunity to wipe out those who stopped reading early.

>thats… dark

[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' is looking at the black flame dragon.]

>…dude stop looking at his black flame dragon

"I really thought you were dead!" "But I survived."

> sigh

"In some cases, people need to be killed…" "Don't worry. I'll kill them for you."

>i need a Heewon in my life 😭

The head rolling like a toy was covered with a cloak with '1' on it. It was the 1st Apostle.

>HSY MY LOVE

You have to hold hands with me to defeat Anna Croft and the Zarathustra!"

'I am different! Yoo Joonghyuk, hold hands with me.

>hsy REALLY wants to hold yjh’s hand huh

"He was a mouthy bastard."

>GASP Joonghyuk LANGUAGE

This jerk, he must think he was so cool. …Honestly, he was a bit cool.

>Dokja you fucking simp he just squashed a head like it was grape

"Then try it. Is your sword faster or my tongue faster?"

>kinky

"Writing is so difficult… writers are great…"

>couldn’t agree more

>the way the story distinguishes between characters and ‘real’ people is so interesting. And kind of tragic when you’re the only one who will likely stay aware until the end

The quality was so bad that if it was serialized in Textpia, it would've bombed. But that didn't matter right now.

>lmao this is why y’all need ao3

–I see. I feel an unknown wall with hyung. I can't explain it well but I like the feeling.

>like…the fourth wall or a tsundere wall?

He says that any beautiful or handsome man and woman will become concubines, while any ugly people will be killed or become slaves."

Jung Heewon frowned. "If Dokja-ssi is caught, you will become a slave."

>Lmao i adore their friendship

The character and I needed to be thinking about each other at the same time.

>does that mean yjh was thinking about kdj back when kdj was using the skill to be in his body?

…that sounds wrong

anyways

"Yoo Sangah-ssi. You will be disruptive if you keep acting like this."

>Oof why did that hurt me

>ok see this is what i meant in my post about kdj’s difference when describing the other characters and when describing yjh. he’s literally talking the king of beauty that leaves everyone spellbound and the best he could manage was ‘outstanding beauty but not his type’ and ‘objectively as beautiful as Sangah’? dokja you gay ass

However, the future that Lee Sungkook knew was only near the prologue. The evolution of the current scenario surpassed the information he knew.

>how long was that prologue for this guy to have his memories till CHAPTER 62?

[The character 'Min Jiwon' shows a weak liking towards you.]

…All my thoughts collapsed at this absurd message.

>honestly relatable

[…There is a lingering attachment, please understand.]

"Gyebaek, let's meet in the next world."

>what is this old man yaoi.

"…Won't it happen one day? If I give birth to a child, I will surely tell them what happened today."

>is…is dokja embracing the mpreg

What was this? I looked up and found that my limbs were tied up with magic power. It was a chrysalis-like appearance. Yoo Sangah's face was completely red.

> …right. Not gonna ask what’s currently going through Sangah’s head.

Everyone is the book is either kinky or gay like damn

[The character 'Cha Sangkyung' has discovered that you are a demonic enemy that shouldn't be touched.]

>Damn the foreshadowing

"Oh, I haven't introduced myself yet. I am Han Sooyoung. I am Cha Sangkyung's assistant."

>MY GIRL BOSS IS HERE

"There is someone. Someone is killing the kings!"

>my little murderous bean i missed you

A furious voice rang through the battlefield.

"Kim Dokja…"

I smiled and waved towards him. A large black flag flew behind the person heading towards me.

"You came…"

>adorable

"…Kim Dokja!"

Yoo Joonghyuk was chasing after me at a scary speed.

>YJH: i just had such a cool entry, PAY ATTENTION TO ME

> yjh really loves saying kdj’s name huh going KIM DOKJA! every three sentences

>god the little sister is just as grumpy as her brother

It was because there wasn't any king in Seoul who had more coins than me right now.

>kdj: you may be op but you forgot the power of INVESTMENT MUHAHAHAHA

The flying Yoo Joonghyuk hit a barrier, bounced in the opposite direction and hit another barrier and landed on the ground after repeating this ping-pong action five or six times.

>I…dokja what the fuck 💀

———

Next- Ch 73-92

Prev: Ch 32-52

Beginning: Ch 1-10

[atopvisenyashill]

Hiiiii it’s @martelldragon I ask from my main

BUT, on the Saera/Jaehaerys thing, IM GLAD IM NOT THE ONLY ONE because whenever this conversation about there being SA or at least some weirdness from Jaehaerys towards Saera, a lot of people will brush it off as “you’re being weird, trying to find something sinister where there isn’t anything” when the subtext is there!!! And I also think HOTD sort of replaced Any potential weirdness there was between Ali/Jae when she was reading to him by having her reading to Viserys -> him marrying her -> him maritally r*ping her in the show.

I feel like this sort of acknowledges that there was something not right about Jae and Saera’s relationship but the show sort of gave the Alicent angle years later when Jaehaerys was being taken care of her while dying and any potential creeping on her to her reading to and taking care of Viserys and him being the one to creep/on eventually marry her.

I also think Viserys calling her Aemma in one of the episodes was definitely at least a reference maybe to the old man she took care of in the book mistaking her for Saera.

Anyway seeing you acknowledge the Jaehaerys/Saera relationship instead of ignoring it and acting like everyone who sees something odd there is “reading too much into it” is just so refreshing and sorry if this doesn’t make sense I kind of started rambling lmao

Oh yeah I feel like I get at least one anon every few weeks since I posted it that is just like "you're reading too much into this" without any explanation and it's like...okay well I disagree lmao. I think especially the people who are like "you think Saera is a girlboss but she's actually a psycho" like...WHOMST is "you" in this situation because it's not me! I think Saera was an intelligent, bright young girl who lived a simultaneously spoiled and lonely youth. I think her worst inclinations were often "rewarded" in the very typical "child can't get attention so they settle for negative attention by acting out" type behavior, which made her behavior worse. I think she exhibits some rather disturbing sexual proclivities and children generally don't land on those types of behaviors on their own; they mimic the behavior, good or bad, that they see. Regardless of what happened, I think it's very clear that Saera is mimicking sexually abusive behavior because she has either witnessed or experienced first hand sexual abuse happening. Now who is the likeliest culprit for that hmmm...

I do think the Joffrey comparisons or even the Rhaenyra comparisons crack me up the most though. Like...oh so you think these three children who really obviously experienced/witnessed sexual abuse and proceeded to act out and enact that sexual violence on others are all very similar little psychopaths? Wow tell me more!

But re: the Alicent of it all. I would agree, i think they combine her relationships with Viserys and Jaehaerys in the show, as well as combining her character with Aemma's (and clearly taking inspiration from Dany and Sansa as characters as well). Viserys is not noted to be decaying to death in the books nor is he particularly old when he dies; in fact, it seems implied he's still fairly young looking and handsome when they marry. Which isn't to say that it's still not tacky at best for him to have an affair with a 17 year old and then marry her when she's 18; it's just like, the show takes away that very gray area that George likes to play with where a teenage girl will marry a handsome, fit 25-35 year old and is maybe not too freaked out by it only to realize there is an ocean of difference between her and that man. Which like, fine, I think they still do a good job of interogating that aspect of F&B and Westerosi culture by delving into with Daemyra ("a girl child you bounced on your knee" is CRAZYYYYY i fucking love that line so fucking much especially because we get that scene where Alys is crying over Daemon and Daemon is a bit playful with her - she for sure judges him for his relationship with Rhaenyra but she also can't help but be fond of him, and I think that really displays the sort of dynamic George is going for with this specific sort of sexual abuse. Not dissimilar imo from like, Sansa remarking on how Tyrion was kind to her and the sort of lasting fondness she has for both him and Sandor - they are doing real damage to those girls but at the same time, the love and fondness is there and it matters to that girl regardless!). I do miss the kind of loving-but-weird beginning to her relationship with Viserys though; aging her down and making Paddy look so old and fucked up makes sense when you're trying to drive home the point to a casual audience that is just. so incredibly monumentally slow on the uptake. But Also imo starting it off this way really cuts a lot of that complexity of how damaging The Institution Of Marriage Is, when Alicent becomes an unwilling victim instead of a hopeful bride.

HOWEVER. The fact that her relationship with him can be airlifted out of the late 100's/early 101 right to the late 110s and onto Viserys sure does speak to how creepy her relationship with Jaehaerys is in canon! Doesn't say anything good about the reasons why she is sent into that man's room to read to him! And if he's calling her not his wife's name, not even his sister's name, but Saera's...hmm is all I'll say!

[girltigerclaw]

breaking into ur house rn

top ten characters and bottom ten. reasons are optional

I just finished this chart thing i think i actually stole from your blog a few months ago <3 Slightly edited to my own prefs.

If anyone wants the template check the reblogs, and feel free to add you own. I'd love to see. I'm just rambling under here:

Leafpool: She is more special and sacred than the virgin mary. She has everything. Daughter of the first protagonist, ex boyfriend for me to hate, TONS of wlw situationships<3, a lifetime of tragedy, and some of the most gorgeous canon art to exist.

Crookedstar: Crookedstar is a trans woman to me. Her life is genuinely just so tragic and fucked, I love it. The erins asked: “How much truama, death and misfortune can you fit into a single cat?” and then they wrote Crookedstar’s promise.

Tawnypelt: GIRLS WHO HATE THEIR FATHERS. The erins dont love her like I do.

Tallstar: I love old men… I fucking love seeing older characters and how much they’ve changed from their younger selves. Tallstar is considered one of, if not the most peaceful leader in the clans. But also when he was like 19 he went on a quest to fucking murder a guy :3

Cloudstar: I rlly do not care abt anyone in Skyclan(I like Leafstar but she's not a fav yknow?) Cloudstar... he was based as fuck. Why did Starclan get away with this shit for real??

Scourge: It’s fucking Scourge. He’s awesome

Briarlight: I’m disabled and I love her. She has such a consistent fun, sweet personality and she makes me happy!!<3

RavenBarley: It deserves all the attention and hype it gets. Though I wish mlm ships didn’t overshadow wlw ones in this fandom, RavenBarley is genuinely well written and makes me very emotional even if the publisher didnt allow it to be explicitly canon.

CrookedBlue: TRANS WOMEN CROOKEDSTAR YURI. Two leaders having a forbidden relationship and kits is way more interesting than Oakheart. The angst of Crooked and Blue sitting next to eachother every gathering while the entire forest has their eyes on them. Don’t look for too long, don’t let the mourning slip into your voice. You have to pretend your lover is a stranger. You… have become strangers. You can never be together again. You're enemies now. This is what we wanted, isn’t it? …We’ll never be happy again.

Mothwing: Her novella delving into her relationship with Hawkfrost was so good and heartbreaking.

Heathertail: Daughter of leader, sister of a major villian, and former love interest of a protagonist! Why did she fall off the second po3 ended. She’s shown to be very compassionate and willing to put her own feelings aside for the sake of others. Would’ve honestly prefered her as a mate to Lionblaze or get a pov herself over the nothing we got.

Blackstar: *Murders an elderly woman trying to stop me from kidnapping children. Supports a dictator openly abusing/neglecting children and the elderly. Murders a man for refusing to kill mixed raced children- then tells said man’s sister that she will never be safe.* Man…. i sure do feel bad for abusing and killing all of those people…. Good thing I will face no consequences and proceed to be made leader, where I will have even more power over the wellbeing of others.

I hate. This guy.

The New Prophecy: A classic. My first series was actually tnp! i feel more attached to first arc cats tho, if you couldn't already tell by my list lmao

Johanna Map- Best Tawnypelt content out there

BlueQuince: My personal handcrafted, homemade Yuri. Bluefur feels terrible about Tiny going missing and promises Quince she’ll help her find him. They never did, but they had a very… fleeting but intimate relationship. Quince is grieving and Bluefur feels so overwhelmed by the duties in her clan. They’ve always thought of eachother since but never met again.

Tigerclaw: My name sake<3 The angst of his earlier life is so, so facinating to me. Starclan being straight fucked up and decided killing him is their only option? He was a kid and they saw him as a lost cause from the start. They never tried any other methods, never tried to steer him in the right direction or… even just take it into their own hands and kill him themself, which they have SHOWN they’re capable of.

They watched all the the horrific crimes he commited, entirely aware they were going to happen. Thats. Fucking. Horrifying. Starclan is scary as shit… and his death? FANTASTIC. I only wish he’d gotten lives from cats he killed so that him coming back to life to suffer over and over was an actual curse from Starclan and not blessings. They knew how he would die and they gave him the lives to torture him for his sins…

Flywhisker: Adhd girlies. Painfully relate to that feeling of the constant scolding for never being “good enough” because I prefer to do things a certain way or struggle to focus. So, SO happy for her when she left the clans! You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone! Hope she’s happy and warm indoors with her brother💕

(P.S. I was very suprised to find she actually had an official art piece!)

Bluestar: Get behind me women with mental disorders. I will defend you. Beautifully complex and tragic character, my favorite written in the series. Literally can't think of a single other female character in handled as seriously and with the complexity of Bluestar. (Although her super edition was a bit of an L with how others treated her, it ultimately makes her breakdown even more painful.)

Exile from Shaodwclan: Nightstar my beloved! He's such a great guy. The rightful leader of Shadowclan, always and forever.

Ravenpaw's Farewell: HE DIED IN BARLEY'S ARMS, TELLING HIM HE WILL FIND HIM, NO MATTER WHERE HE IS. FUCK.

Crookedstar art: So beautiful. I genuinely think she's one of the prettiest cats in the series. This along with her official art by Wayne Mcloughlin.

Leopardstar: As a kid I hated her and loved Blackfoot, now I hate Blackfoot and love her. #feminism. But seriously I think she has way more going for her than he ever has. Her father is a medicine cat who hates violence, the DRASTIC change in Riverclan's view of outsiders upon Crookedstar's death and her leadership. Her already having a position of power before proving she's unworthy of it. (Unlike Blackstar who gets rewarded for his racism and violence by being made leader afterwards) and the fact she has to interact with her victims on a daily basis after what she did.

The writings attempts to redeem her are really lame and dismissive of the actually damage she did, but at the very least they TRIED to do something else with her. Personally, I would have loved to see her assassinated by Mistyfoot. Just like her mother Bluestar was almost killed all those moons ago by Tigerclaw... The parallels of violence for power and violence for peace. A victim repeating the actions of the very man who killed her brother to put an end to what he started in Riverclan.... A shadow in Riverclan, if you will. (<-Pretending erin hunter has hired me to rewrite their series)

Windclan: Tunneling as a concept and inviting outsiders into their clan so friendly and casual makes the clan seems so much more diverse than the others. It always stuck out to me!

Andddd there are my current warrior cat options as of 2023! If someone actually read this whole ramble ily<3

[yanderelovlies]

Home sweet home

Fandom: DachaBo

Character: Bo

Au: medieval

Pairing: Bo x Male!Reader

TW: monster fucking for sure, the mentions of Knot, and doing it outdoor totally not a last minute thing

Note: Are there boxers in medieval times?? idk there is now, lmao. If it's bad, tell me nicely, please 👀

You had always enjoyed nature. It made you feel at peace, so when you got old enough to live out on your own. You left your village choosing to live in a secluded home in the Forrest.

Sure, it was a longer ride to a nearby village for certain things, but you didn't mind. You enjoyed always spotting something new on your way there and back.

However, there were downsides to living so far from the village. For example, there was no one to help you when a hulking blond man breaks down your door looking frantic.

The two of you stared at each other for a couple of seconds until something in the man snapped as he quickly made his way inside, trying to fix the door the best he could before Turing to you. "Hide me, please!"

"What?!"

The man sighed as if he was more irritated by the situation than you. "Hide me, please. I swear I will explain everything to you later, and even compensate you , but please... Help me."

Maybe it was the big puppy dog eyes he was giving you or the empath in you, but ultimately, you agreed with a sigh. "O-okay...umm..The attic!" You quickly got out of bed making your way to the back of the house. You jumped up, reaching for the handle of the hatch. Once open, you grabbed your nearby ladder, leaning it against the entrance. "Go hurry."

Not needing to be told twice, the man quickly made his way up the ladder. Once it was moved again and the door to the attic quietly clicked, a rough knock could be heard on your door.

Trying to make yourself look tired, you made your way to the door. Letting out a yawn as you opened the door. In front of you stood and armored man a gun strapped to his back.

"Good evening, sir. My friends and I are here on a hunt for a....creaton. By order of the Queen. You haven't, by chance, seen or heard anything, have you?"

You squinted at the man as if trying to focus your eyes "Well seeing how I just woke up. No. Not till you came pounding on my door."

The man glared at you yet kept a steady voice, trying not to show his irritation too much. "Well, it could still have gotten inside. They are nasty vermin like that."

You raised an eyebrow at this. "What are you hunting."

The man hesitated for a moment before trying to look behind you. "Is there child and wife here?" You shook your head, clearly confused. "Good. Don't want to scare them." His eyes turn back to you, clearly sizing you up. "We are hunting a werewolf. The bastard tried to blend in with the nearby village. He would have gotten away with it if he didn't slip up."

"Slip up?"

He nodded. "He told one of the local his identity, and like the good citizen of the queen. they repeated him."

"I see....Well, like I said, I was asleep, so I didn't see or hear anything." You grabbed the edge of the door slowly moving it to close it. "Good Night and all the luck to you sir."

Before the door could close, the man moved his boot, effectively blocking it. "May we have a look around. Just in case."

Sighing, you opened the door further standing to the side. "By all means."

It took them a few minutes to inspect your place before he headed back to the door. "Well... It looks like everything here is fine." He turned back to you a scowel on his face. "Don't forget that thing is still out there, and the only thing that will kill it is silver." He holds out his hand, waiting for you to open your hand. He places five silver bullets in your hand before turning to leave without another word.

It was silent for a few minutes before you could hear slightly rustling upstairs, followed by the door opening and a thud.

The man found his way to you a big grin on his face. "Are they gone? are we safe?"

You turned to him with a glare, "a werewolf?" You seethed cluching the bullets given to you tightly.

The man seemed to deflate at the statement as he slowly turned to you. "um yeah...H-how about we start with names first! I'm Bo! it's nice to meet youuuu...."

"y/n"

Bo smiled wide, his blue eyes sparkling. "y/n....what a nice name." He sighed in an almost dream like state before cleared your throat. He blinked before looking away. "r-right the werewolf thing. Yes, I am one."

"Why were you in the village?"

His eyes met yours again this time, sorrow present. "Do you know how lonely this life is? Everyone is scared of you and runs away without so much as a goodbye. I want to be around people."

Your expression softened at his explanation. It makes sense. "I see... I'm sorry, Bo."

His smile returned this time sadder than before, "I'll find my pack someday, I'm sure..."

You looked down, feeling guilty. You knew what it was like, just trying to find your place in life. That's how you ended up in the woods in the first place. "You can stay for awhile. At least until the hunters move on."

You watched him perk up again, and if he had a tail, you knew he would be wagging it. "Really?! you don't mind?"

You nodded, giving him a small smile of your own. "I don't mind as long as you don't mind sharing the chores."

He nodded vigorously "of course!"

.

It has been a couple of days since that arrangement, and you have learned about the former stranger turned friend. Bo seemed to find joy in the mundane. Even doing dishes put a big smile on his face. You found it adorable.

You also learned a bit about him. His life before he was turned, and then a bit after. His feelings always seemed mixed when he talked about his life after the bit. He enjoyed the power it gave him but hated the isolation.

Everything seemed to be going fine until he came to you fidgety. "Hey puppy, I'm gonna have leave for a bit."

You raised a brow at him. "Have the hunters lef"

"n-not entirely they are still scouting, but....It's a full moon tonight....I don't trust myself around you...I don't want to hurt you."

Your eyes widened. You had nearly forgotten about such night. Living with him felt like living with a normal human, not a werewolf. "W-well..can't we put you in the attic?"

"It would be too easy to break the floor beneath me." He sighs."I must leave... I promise I will come back in the morning...if you allow me."

You walked closer to him "Your always welcome here, Bo."

He smiles at you. "Good night, puppy."

"Good night, Bo." He stood there as if contemplating. Before closing the gap between you kissing your forehead. Before you could respond, he was out the door without another word.

.

That night, it was hard to sleep knowing Bo wasn't there. In the past few days, you have grown attached to the overgrown puppy. Maybe it was because you had been alone for so long, but you enjoyed spending every day by his side.

As your eyes slowly began to fall, a loud knock could be heard from your door. Begrudgingly, you got out of bed, making your way to the door. You slowly opened the door, revealing the hunter from nights before.

"What can I-" You were cut off by the man forcing open the door, causing you to stumble and fall to the floor.

Before you could get up, the man placed his armored boot on your chest, effectively keeping you in place. "There is the traitor himself." He sneered down at you, putting a little more pressure on your chest. "Where is your pet, hm?!

"ngh, I-I don't have one-"

With another sneer, the man put half of his body weight on his foot on your chest, making pain spread through your abdomen. "I would advise you not to lie to me or else you might find your ribs through your heart."

You could fear along with pain wrack through your body. You knew this man would keep his word, but you couldn't bring yourself to out Bo. He had already been through so much. So you kept your mouth shut only, managing to glare at the man while moving your sweaty hands to his armored boot, attempting to keep as much pressure as you could off of you.

The man rolled his eyes at your defiance. "Shame."

You continued to glare, bracing yourself for the pain when a monstrous growl could be heard at the door. A blonde blur hit the man, hitting the floor not too far from you with a loud thud.

snarls, growls, and cries could be heard as you stared at the ceiling trying to catch your breath. Truthfully, you were a little scared to look. Bo's warning ringing through your head.

A few minutes passed before it was silent. You tried to quiet your breathing. Hoping and praying to whatever God was listening that this wouldn't be your last night.

You heard a whine before Bo's now rough and deep voice cuts the silence. "Please don't be afraid, puppy. I won't hurt you."

You hesitantly turn your head towards him. The large blonde bipedal wolf's back was facing you his head turned so you could only see his now blood-stained maw followed by sad blue eyes. "Protect Mate....never hurt."

Your eyes widened "m-mate?"

Bo fully turned to giving you a full view of his blood-stained front before he went down low, trying to make himself look small nodding. " Your sent calls me. could smell the fear and pain. Came to protect."

All you could do was stare as you tried to piece together what was happening. Was this a confession? The thought of it made your heart race.

A light repeated thud could be heard behind Bo as his tail began to wag. "This excites, mate?" You watched him inch closer the strong metal smell of blood now, invading your nose more than ever.

You sat up wincing. "W-wait, Bo." Bo's tail stopped wagging as his ears went back, and all his movement stopped. "The...blood." Bo was confused at first, tilting his head. "Look, if you want to... talk about this more. You need a bath, and" You tried to look behind him, but his now larger form easily concealed the scene behind him. "That...mess needs to be cleaned too."

.

After a bit of labor, the two of you found yourselves at the lake trying to scrub out the blood from his blond fur. You originally hadn't planned on joining Bo in the water, yet here you were running your fingers through the fur on his muscular chest.

Your mind began to wonder about the events of earlier. He called you mate. You had heard the term a few times before, but never in this context. You weren't sure how you felt about this context. Bo, even now, wasn't a bad looking man. You would be lying if you said you hadn't admired him from afar before. something about him just demanded your attention, and you didn't mind giving it to him. Living with Bo wasn't so bad either. He always helped out the chores, taught you few hunting tricks, and even managed to make you smile on the worst of days. Maybe you wouldn't mind being Bo's mate.

As your mind wondered on the subject, Bo had bent his head licking the area where your neck and shoulder meet. "mate..." Blinking, you look up at Bo questioningly.

In silent response, Bo wrapped his arm around you, pressing your body against his own. You could feel something warm and hard grow between you two, making your face turn red. You tried to keep your eyes up, but the more you felt it, the more you wanted to look. "Need mate...please."

It took you a few minutes to give it some thought before eventually agreeing, causing Bo to separate from you. You looked at him questioningly before watching him seat himself at the shallow part of the lake, his large dick lightly slapping his abdomen as he roughly sat.

Without instructions, you made your way stopping just in front of him. Before you could say or do anything, Bo's clawed hand wrapped around your writs, pulling you on top of him.

With you now sitting in his lap, you could feel big he is. His member almost reached the middle of your back. You were gonna speak your concerns when Bo bucked his hips with a growl as he leaned over his muzzle, going to the crook of your neck. He let out another low growl before using his claws to tear off the boxers you had left on when bathing the beast.

You watched as the rements of your boxers float behind you as you turned back to Bo with a whine. "Bo...do you know how hard it was to get those?"

Bo huffed, pulling away from your neck. "Later. Need mate now." Without any more words, Bo places his claws on your waist, lifing you up as if you weight nothing. Before slowly lowering you down.

You could feel the head of Bo's dick at your entrance making your heart race. His whole being shook as he began to enter you slowly.

Using the water he still sat in as a sort of lube allowed him to enter you easier, but due to him not preparing you and his size, Bo was careful. He didn't want to hurt you. So, despite his instincts yelling at him, to breed you and uses your body as his own personal toy, he held back. Stopping midway down to allow you to adjust to his size.

Even part way filled you with both pain and pleasure. You had never used anything bigger than your fingers, so to suddenly have a dick of Bo's size stretch you felt a bit much yet so deliciously full.

Bo waited as long as he could before his instincts eventually took over. With his claws still on your waist, he roughly pulls you down, completely filling you. Your back arches, making your chest meet his as your head flew back with a strangled moan.

With cautious slow movements, Bo began to move you up and down, almost unaware of your moans a pleas. "So soft... tight and warm...my good mate." Bo practically purred as his muzzle once again found its way to the crook of your neck where he began to lick, nibble, and leave more marks.

You appreciated the cautious slow thrusts, but eventually, you wanted more. So you began to squirm in his hold with moan "Bo...more! please!"

You watched as Bo's ears perked up with the request. Not needing any more encouragement, Bo moved away from you lifting you fully of his cock before slamming you back down making setting a brutal pace.

All you could do was moan, whine, and babble as Bo used your body as he saw fit. Your dick bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts. Your voice was slurred as you begged, for you didn't even know. You just knew you wanted more, and only Bo could provide.

It wasn't long till you could feel something large at your already stretched hole, making your heart race. "B-bo?!"

"Knot.. for mate"

"Knot?!" Before you could an explanation, you were slammed down on the Knot as it entered with squelch and splash of the water around you.

The pleasure and pain made you see white as you cam hard all over the front of yourself and Bo. At the same time, you could feel warmth began to enter you as Bo emptied himself in you as if trying to breed you.

The waters still as you slumped forward, trying to catch your breath. Bo pulled you close as he laid his head on top of yours. " soft warm mate.."

You tried to keep your eyes open unsure what will happen to you if you didn't, but eventually sleep took over as everything turned to black.

.

When you woke next, you were back in bed with the smell of blood still faint as sunlight greeted your eyes. You tried to move, but when you budged, you heard a whine behind you as the arm you now notice tightens around your abdomen.

"You should rest puppy..." You felt yourself relax at Bo's voice as he nuzzled the top of your head. "I can take care of things....later. Right now, it's time for rest."

You laid still for a bit, contemplating you should. However, as soon as you moved your leg again to readjust, you could feel the pain of last night activities rush from your ass down to your legs. "Okay....yeah." You leaned back into Bo, closing your eyes, letting sleep take you once again.

You loved living in the isolated Forrest, but maybe it would be so bad to have Bo around.