#on the bright side - I finally figured out how to make mirrors!

[justcallme-ange]

Got some feelings about c!Dream and his whole arc. So I’m making it everyone else's problem XD

The Beginning

The End (Wishful)

Also for those that like Angst: The End (Actual)

[bambikisss]

Husband activities : C.San

Husband!San x Wife!Reader

📖 : After working hard for a promotion, your husband decides to take you out to dinner to celebrate

⚠️ : Unprotected sex (please wrap it and be safe), fingering while driving, public oral (male to female), biting, lots of praise, a smidge of degrading, talks of recording/picture taking, small use of food, desperate San, pussy drunk San

🦌Bambi's notes : Hi! This is my first story back and I'm very excited to get back in the swing of things when it comes to writing and posting again. There are a few more tags added above as I got a bit carried away, but here's something to begin the year off with for book club. Enjoy!

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED | ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY

"Congratulations again, Mrs. Choi"

You smiled at Barbra's compliment, thanking her once more before wishing her a good night. After months and months of hard work, you had obtained the promotion position you had been dreaming about. While it took everything you had, you were happy to finally have the new plack with your name on it and the new position.

As you continued to set up your new office, you heard a knock on the door gently. When you turned around and were met with your husband's smiling face, you couldn't help but mirror it, rushing into his arms with a bright smile. "San, what are you doing here?" You asked though you didn't mind. You loved it when he visited you and the same for him. "I just wanted to come to congratulate you in person, baby" San placed a gentle kiss to the side of your head, pulling back just enough to see your face as he wrapped his arms around you more, keeping you pressed right up against him.

San loved how you felt against him, fitting him perfectly. It was one of the many things he loved about your body: how it felt right against his.

You gave him a small tour of your office, leading him to the large floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a beautiful view of the city. San couldn't help but look down at you with pride in his eyes, pressing his chest against your back as he wrapped his arms around you once more, leaning down so that his lips grazed your ear as he hummed "I'm so proud of you, baby. You worked hard and now you get to enjoy it all"

You smiled as San's lips met you in a gentle kiss, savoring the feeling before he pulled back, suddenly now holding his phone out to you. On the screen was a reservation reminder for one of your favorite restaurants, a smile appearing on your lips as San's hands returned to your hips as he hummed "I got us a reservation. It's nothing, just a little gift."

San loved spoiling you, doing whatever it took to keep you happy and see that smile on your face, though it didn't take much. He enjoyed the glint in your eyes whenever he bought you a gift, the sight always making him want to pin you against the nearest surface.

"It's so soon, though" You pointed out, turning to the clock on the wall. The reservation was at 7 o'clock and it was already 5:30. San nodded, gently grabbing your hand to press a kiss to the back of it, slowly turning you around to face him as he smirked "Well, we should get going then. I want you to take your time when it comes to tonight."

San words repeated through your mind as you got ready, picking out one of your favorite and best-looking dresses and matching heels before taking a long hot shower, taking your time to thoroughly relax. As you put on the dress and finishing touches, your eyes moved over the dress, happy with how it adored you beautifully.

Just as you were applying the finishing touches on your makeup, San could be heard approaching the bathroom, the sound of his dress shoes clicking against the floors as he stood in the doorway. "Hey honey, we should get…" San's words left him in real-time as his eyes landed on your figure in the dress, his mind no longer focused on the reservation, but on how fucking good you looked. You had the same reaction, looking over his broad shoulders and slim waist in his choice of outfit, simply wearing his white button-up and beige vest over it. Though the outfit was simple, he looked absolutely sinful in it.

San licked his lips as you approached him, his fingers itching to touch you as he breathed out "Baby, oh my god. You look…" His words left him once more as he spun you around, his eyes moved over every inch of the dress and your figure, his mouth watering at the things he wanted to do with you. His lips met your cheek before slowly kissing down to your neck, your hands moving up his muscular chest as you hummed playfully "shouldn't we get going?"

"Going where?" San's question was muffled as he kissed your neck, breathing in your scent as he kissed and sucked gently on your neck, drawing a low moan out of you, one that made San press you back against the bathroom sink. You knew that if you didn't stop him soon, there would be no chance of you both making that reservation. As you pushed him away gently to meet his face, San licked his lips once more, his eyes now full of hunger and desire.

"San, the dinner reservation." San groaned at the reminder of the reservation, biting his lip before he nodded, backing up as he said "God, you're going to be the death of me" San couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you both made your way out to the car, his eyes drinking in every movement you made. He found you to be the prettiest woman he had ever seen, thanking the universe every day he got to marry you.

You tried to finish your makeup while he drove, the sight of you applying your lip gloss in your little compact mirror making it hard for San to simply focus on the road. His hands tightened around the wheel for a moment, his lips itching to meet yours and lick off the lip gloss. You gently pressed your lips together to spread the lip gloss evenly, not noticing San's hand leaving the wheel to meet your thigh over the dress. It seemed like such a simple touch, offering him a small smile before you returned to your lips.

"What kind of lip gloss is that?" San asked, his eyes glancing over to yours for a moment before returning to the road, focusing on driving once more. "I think it's stawberry-" You were unable to finish your words as San's hand shot up to grip your cheeks, pulling you into a deep kiss with him as he pulled up to a red light. You moaned gently as San's tongue met yours, your lips moving together in a heated kiss as San's hand left your cheeks to move down your body, greedily grabbing and feeling every part of you before pushing away your thighs, his finger meeting your panties. You couldn't help but pull back to bite your lip as San continued driving with one hand, his other hand working on slipping your panties to the side as he pushed in a finger to your pussy, a moan leaving you both.

"You're so wet, honey" San breathed out, his finger moving in and out of you at a slow pace, the palm of his hand rubbing small circles on your clit. You gripped the seat at his motions, letting him do as he pleased as you continued to let out your moans into the car. The sight of you relaxed, head tossed back against the seat made San's cock twitch, gripping the wheel as he sped up, rushing now to the restaurant.

Your eyes opened to the sound of San's door slamming shut, the backseat door opening to show San climbing into the back, his lips and tongue wrapped around the finger that was just inside of you. His eyes were dark, a moan leaving him as he met your eyes. He motioned for you to meet him in the back with his free, only freeing his finger from his lips when you sat on his lip, his lips crashing with yours in a messy kiss.

"We have 15 minutes left before our reservation" San groaned against your lips, carefully moving so that you were against the seat as he moved onto his knees in front of you, kissing down your thighs as he mumbled "I want my appetizer"

Who were you to deny your husband such a need?

As you simply opened your legs wider for San, he smirked at the sight, blowing some air onto your wet pussy with a playful grin on his lips.

"Now isn't the time for that, San" You mumbled, running your hand through his styled hair as you pushed his head towards your pussy. San smirked, knowing you were right as he let you bring his lips to your pussy, moaning immediately at your taste. He took his time enjoying you, his tongue moving in and out of your pussy lips as he looked up at you through his glasses. He let you move your hips against his face, his own eyes rolling shut as you gripped his hair to press him more against you.

"Hmm, ride my tongue honey. Let me taste you" He moaned, his fingers pressing into your thighs as he focused on licking up all your wetness. You tossed your head back as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking hard on it before he pulled back to mumble against your pussy "such a good girl for me. so fucking tasty"

Your moment with San was interrupted by the sound of his phone going off, letting him know that it was time for the reservation. He sighed gently before pressing a few more kisses to your pussy, as if kissing it goodbye before he pulled back to allow you both to fix up your appearance. He bit his lip at the sight of you reapplying lip gloss once more, wanting nothing more than to kiss it off of you again.

"You know," San hummed as you both exited the car and began to walk to the restaurant hand in hand. "I wouldn't mind just going back home and celebrating there"

"San" You gently scolded him as you both entered the restaurant, following the hostess to your table. San smirked gently, squeezing your hand to let you know he was playing around with you.

The hostess led you both to a private room dining room that had a beautiful view of the ocean, the room full of candles to give it a romantic glow. You gasped gently as San led you into the room, pulling out the chair for you as he said "I wanted to celebrate in a more intimate setting" He gently placed a kiss on your shoulder before moving to sit across the table from you, smiling proudly. He knew based on the glint in your eyes that he picked right for the reservation, his heart racing as you gently thanked him. He placed his hand on top of yours, gently pulling it to his lips as he said "Anything for you, my love. And you deserve it, you worked hard for that promotion."

San placed a kiss on your wedding band, making your heart skip a beat as he intertwined your fingers with his, admiring how perfectly they fit. San was a perfect life partner for you, someone who was driven and loved with his whole chest. You were his world and he wanted to make sure you knew that at all costs.

Soon the table was covered in food, San supporting you in ordering anything you wanted to try. You hummed happily as you both picked at the various dishes, both of you tasting the various foods with smiles on your face. You fed him some beef, smiling as he hummed "That has to be my favorite thing I've put in my mouth tonight."

You raised an eyebrow playfully at his words, your mind thinking back to the moment you both shared in the car before you both came inside, feeling more wetness gather at the memory. "Oh really?" You asked flirtatiously, leaning forward onto your hand as you met his eyes. At your new tone of voice, San raised his own eyebrow, putting down his fork as he said "Well, not as good as you of course." You hummed at his words, picking at your food with a faux pout on your lips. The sight made San smirk, leaning back in his chair as he asked

"You don't believe me?"

You shook your head, shrugging as you continued eating, your eyes moving to look out the window at the water. San scoffed at your answer, his eyes roaming your body hungrily before he decided to prove it to you. Your eyes stayed on the waves as the sound of San standing up and his chair being pushed back filled the room. You expected him to appear behind you, instead when your eyes left the window, you were met with an empty room. You looked around in confusion, trying to find him when you felt a pair of hands suddenly on your thighs. You jumped lightly before moving the table cover to see San on his knees once again in between your legs, his lips kissing your thighs as his eyes looked up to meet yours mischievously. As you asked him what he was doing, he bit his lip before simply pushing apart your legs more, his free hand moving up and down your covered pussy as he simply shushed you.

You were glad you were in a private room with San, the staff not being able to enter unless you both called for them on the tablet on the table. San smirked as he leaned forward to lick up your clothed pussy, his smirk growing as let out a sharp inhale. He enjoyed seeing you squirm and shake at his touch, repeating the steps a few more times. "Baby, aren't we supposed to be celebrating my promotion?" You asked breathlessly, your voice combined with your words making San moan against your panties, looking up at you with now flushed cheeks as he said "You're right, this is about you babygirl. This is about what you want"

San found the top of your panties, dragging it down your legs slowly before he attached his mouth to your pussy, his eyes locked on you as he continued to lick and suck wherever he could. Your eyes couldn't help but flicker to the door, letting out small moans as he gripped your hips, eating you out to his heart's content. At the sight of your eyes not meeting his, he got a pang of jealousy, wanting you to focus on him.

Your hand shot down to his hair as he pushed a finger into you, San moving your other leg onto his shoulder as he moaned against your pussy "look at me, honey. Focus on your reward" Your hand tightened in his hair as you both began to let out your moans into the room, both quiet and muffled by the music that the restaurant played. You began to move your hips against his face, San adjusting to match the angle. He focused on your face, watching every reaction to everything he did, wanting to make sure to drive you to ecstasy. San had hearts in his eyes as he ate you out, drinking in your taste happily while you held back from screaming his name, arching your back against the chair.

The sight of you panting and gripping both his hair and the chair made San's cock twitch painfully, his hands leaving you for a moment, though he didn't leave you empty as his tongue moved to replace his fingers as he hurriedly removed his belt and unbuttoned his pants, allowing his cock to peek out from the top of his boxers. Your eyes returned to see San's tongue moving in and out of you as his hands worked on his cock, using his precum to jerk off.

"You tasted so good, honey" San moaned, hips pushing forward as he groaned "I couldn't hold back, baby. You're so hot, you make me so hard."

The sight alone brought you closer to the edge, the sight making San forget about himself to give you 100%, his lips wrapping around your clit while his two fingers returned to you, curling up in the best way as he pushed you closer and closer to an orgasm. As you came, you breathily said San's name, hips shaking as San quickly licked you up, his hips still thrusting forward into nothing, wishing it was you.

As you slowly calmed down, San returned to his seat as he licked his lips, stuffing something into his pocket. As you closed your legs and moved to grab your panties, your eyes slightly widened at the realization that he had taken them. San confirmed it by patting his back pocket, taking a sip of water as he said "Don't worry, they're safe with me."

"How am I supposed to walk out of here without them?" You asked, San's smirk only growing as he said "Who said we were done here?" You raised an eyebrow as San flipped the tablet to face him, leaning forward with dark eyes, smirking as he asked "How do you feel about dessert tonight, baby?"

"Shh baby, remember, we aren't home where you can scream my name baby. Here, give them to me"

You moaned as San gripped your chin, making you face him as he continued to fuck into your pussy from behind, propping one of your legs up onto the table to fuck you deeper. You gripped the tablecloth and San's hair as he moved, fighting the urge to moan louder. You bit your lip as San pulled back, his eyes now blown out as he moaned quietly "There we go baby, let me give you my present for working so hard" San began to kiss down your neck, his free hand moving to bunch up your dress more at your hips to use as leverage as he began to move faster.

The only sounds that left you both were hushed moans and the sound of your cock plowing into your pussy, the squelching noises driving San crazy. "San, slow down, you're-"

"Shh, my pussy is talking to me" San groaned, his eyes locked on the sight of his cock moving in and out of your pussy, his tongue moving over his lips as he moved faster. You reached forward further on the table as San pushed you forward with every thrust, San's eyes landing on the cake you both ordered. "Here" San leaned forward, his hips still busy with their rough pace as he was able to keep his upper body up to grab a fork, gathering some of the vanilla cake onto his fork before he leaned down with you, his chest now against your back as he held it to your lips. "Say ahh, honey."

San didn't bother to stop moving as he fed you, chuckling at the moans that did escape you, praising you as he kissed your cheek.

"You're doing so well baby. Here's more, take it from my finger, yeah?" San dragged his finger along the frosting, holding it up to your lips as his pace sped up. You couldn't help but drop your head as his new pace, the frosting leaving San's finger to now land across your cheek. San chuckled at the sight, clicking his tongue disapprovingly as he said "that's not what was supposed to happen baby. You were supposed to open your mouth, look at the mess you made." He continued his disapproving tone as he pushed himself up to stand behind you once more, deciding to take on the opportunity of having you bent against the table like this.

You gasped as San landed a slap against your ass, his pace picking up speed he chuckled, saying "Look at how you jumped baby. All because you couldn't just open your mouth for me. Why? All because this cock feels just too good?" San punctuated each word with a hard thrust, chuckling gently as you nodded. He placed his hands back on the table, leaning down to lick a stripe up your cheek where the frosting was before he moaned "You're acting so messy, aren't you baby? Allowing your husband to have his way with you in a restaurant like this where anyone can walk by and hear us."

San's words and his pace pushed you closer to the edge, nodding before letting out another choked-out moan as San delivered another smack to your ass, his hands now gripping both cheeks as he quickened his pace, groaning "You're just my little slut, right baby? Anytime, anywhere I can give you this cock, my tongue, my fingers, anything, you'll take it right?"

"Yes San" You began to feel tears brimming in your eyes, San's lips pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek as he whispered "That's what I love about you, honey. You'll let me plow this perfect pussy over and over again, giving you pleasure just the way you'd like."

"What if someone were to walk in right now, baby?" San panted, his hips rolling against the flesh of your ass as he leaned forward to bite and kiss your shoulder, continuing to talk, almost to himself as he moaned "You look so pretty like this baby, god, it makes me want to take a picture of you like this. Let the whole world see how beautiful my wife is."

San could tell you were close, leaning down to kiss up your back as he groaned "Don't hold back, please don't. Cum baby, please cum" You gasped at his words, rushing to sit up at his words on your elbows and grip his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss to muffle yourself as your cum coated all over his cock. San cursed at the feeling, keeping you up as his hands separated your ass cheeks, watching as his now cum coated cock plowed into you, the sight bringing him close to the edge.

"Where do you want me to cum tonight, Honey? Want me to fill up this perfect fucking pussy?" He asked desperately against your shoulder, kissing wherever he could as his pace grew rougher, chasing his release as you nodded, pulling him into another deep kiss as he came, his hips shuddering against your ass as your tongue locked with his. San massaged your body as you both kissed, whispering praise and compliments before he pulled back, licking his lips as he pressed his forehead against yours, giving you both a moment to calm down.

"Do you think we were too loud?" You asked as San slowly pulled out, shaking his head as he placed a kiss to your shoulder once more before he pulled back with a gentle mile. "No. But even if we were, I paid extra to ensure that we were in a room with no one to either side of us"

"You thought of everything, huh?" You asked as he helped you get ready, laughing gently as he gave you a smile wink. Once you both were appropriate, San paid the bill before gently holding your hand, leading you with a proud smile out of the restaurant. San gently swung your hands as you both walked, making you laugh gently as you both approached the car.

"Wait, before you get in" San hummed, opening the trunk to take out a bouquet of roses he had hidden. As he held them out to you, he met your eyes once again with hearts in them as he said "I'm so, so proud of you honey. I cannot think of anyone more deserving of that promotion than you." You smiled as San kissed you gently, handing you the roses as he gently rubbed your arms, kissing your forehead as he hummed "Congratulations again, baby"

You accepted the flowers, climbing into the front seat as San did the same with a grin on your face. San smiled as you admired the flowers, gently rubbing your thigh as he began the drive home. "Do you have anything else planned?" You asked, turning to see your husband's smile turn into a smirk, the hand on your thigh slowly moving towards your pussy as he said "well, I plan on getting my wife home and continuing our celebration in a more private setting." You spread your legs more as San pushed in two fingers, San's voice meeting your ear as he pulled up to a red light, hunger lacing it as he hummed "starting right now."

BAMBIKISS | 2025

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Hangovers and Hickeys

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: no idea rn lmao probably like 700

A/N: some Spence content before the new year (on the western calendar). Hope you all get to enjoy the day!

“Good morning sunshine.”

You winced at the sheer volume of his voice. “If I could, id shove you off of the roof Derek Morgan.”

“Fun night?”

You snorted and finally lifted your head off of the desk. “You should be a profiler.”

That caused Derek to laugh, which made you wince and close your eyes. The sunglasses perched on your nose were supposed to be helping. They weren’t.

“That’s a nice hickey you got there.”

You grunted in response and tried to adjust your sweater collar so it would cover the hickey you missed this morning when you didn’t look in the mirror. You had basically rolled out of bed, and into your car to make sure you got to work on time.

“Who gave it to you?” “Why don’t you use your super duper profiling skills to deduce it or whatever Sherlock shit you wanna do.”

Derek snorted and shook his head. ”or you could just….tell me.”

“Don’t worry about it Derek.” You grumbled.

When Derek realized he wasn’t going to get any answers out of you about it, he decided he was going to change tactics.

“Moving on from Boy Wonder?” It was no secret that you had a crush on a certain nerdy doctor. And so Derek tried to use this knowledge to his advantage.

You crossed your arms and just raised your eyebrows. “I’m not dignifying that with a response,”

“Pretty sure that was my answer.” He chuckled, sitting down in his chair and swiveling to look at you.

When you decided to just ignore Derek, and face your desk, he piped up again. “Where is he anyways?” “No idea.”

It was like he was waiting for his cue from you. Spencer pushed open the doors to the bull pen and strolled in. He had his purple scarf around his neck, over his new coat that Henry (JJ) had gotten him for Christmas. It was a beautiful grey pea coat that kept him warm during these freezing winter months. Spender was carrying a tray with two coffees on it and what seemed like a bag from McDonalds, which seemed to be for you, since he was headed in your direction.

The smell of the food caused you to groan with joy and smile at the man walking towards you.

“My knight in shining armor.” You muttered as he placed the whole tray in front of you. You placed a kiss on his cheek hasilty, causing him to blush a little.

“I got hashbrowns from both McDonald’s and Dunkin’, a little smorgasbord of grease for your pallet.” He whispered before taking one of the cups out of the tray.

“I’m going to marry you Doctor Spencer Reid.” You muttered, digging into the bag and pulling out one of the McDonald’s hash browns and biting into it. The groan you let out leaned a little on the pornographic side, which made Derek raise his eyebrows at the sound you let out, and then at tinge of pink on Spencer’s cheeks.

You continued eating, clueless about the silent interrogation happening to your left, enjoying every single bite and sip of your hangover cure.

“Derek I can hear you thinking and it’s making my head throb.”

Derek’s eyes snapped back to you, as your figure swiveled in the chair to face him, casually munching on some of the fries, in a completely different mood then from two minutes ago before Spencer had walked in the room.

“Sorry your highness. I’m just curious as to why Boy Genius here is bringing you hangover cures.”

“Well it’s his fault I’m this fucked up so he owes me.” You grumbled, swiveling around in your chair to face your desk. You pulled your lap top out of your canvas bag and started to set up for your work day.

“Wha-how is it his fault.”

That’s when Spencer turned bright red and tried to change the conversation, or at least get out of it. “I—well it’s not…I….hotch is…”

Spencer basically ran across the bullpen and up the stairs to Hotch’s office, avoiding the conversation he almost just had.

“I don’t think you wanna know.” You smirked and bit into the muffin from Dunks that Spencer had got you, not looking at the man behind you.

“I’m starting to think that too.” His eyes narrowed and he looked between where Spencer had run off to, and you.

Something was going on between the two of you, and Derek Morgan was going to figure it out.

[satoruhour]

Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM

BLISS, PURE BLISS

a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱

wc: 6.4k

warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.

you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.

“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.

“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”

he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.

“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.

“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.

“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”

you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.

gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.

and then, finally, his baby boy.

“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.

“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”

you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.

“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”

all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.

“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”

although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.

“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”

but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.

it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.

gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.

it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.

you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.

“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.

“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.

“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”

“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”

that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”

“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”

“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”

“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.

it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.

“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”

confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.

“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”

by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”

“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”

that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”

“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”

“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”

the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”

you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.

it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.

[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!! 

and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue. 

“oh, shit, you’re still here?”

“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.

“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!

“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”

“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”

gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.

but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.

“you—”

your head snaps to him, “yes?”

his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.

but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.

with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.

“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.

gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.

“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.

the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.

“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.

“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”

you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.

“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”

you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”

gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”

 but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.

the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.

“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.

“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”

“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”

“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”

“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”

gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.

“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.

he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.

“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”

“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”

he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.

“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”

he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.

go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow. 

funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.

so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.

“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”

“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”

“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.

jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”

you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”

he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”

“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.

“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”

“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.

he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”

“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”

gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.

satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —

“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”

you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”

and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.

“s-satoru . .”

“yes, sweets, what is it?”

“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.

“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.

“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”

you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.

“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.

but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.

“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”

“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.

“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.

“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.

“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”

you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.

“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.

“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.

“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”

you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.

“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.

“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him —  but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.

“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.

wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.

“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”

you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”

that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.

you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.

inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.

“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.

“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”

giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.

“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”

“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”

and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.

“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”

“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”

and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.

“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”

you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.

“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”

you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves. 

“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”

satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.

“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.

you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.

“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”

and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.

“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.

“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”

“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.

“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.

[urmum-lovesme]

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P2

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: omg omg part 2! I can't believe so many people actually read the first part that makes me so happy :D. Tensions start to unfold here... featuring Wheezie cause I missed her in the new season. May have snuck in bi!reader again, should I keep that? Thank you so so so much for all the love! and enjoy the next chpt. (pt3 may be in a few days)

warnings: mention of drugs, dismissive mother, Ward (he deserves his own warning)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n grumbled to herself as she pulled her glasses over her face getting into the back of the car seat, the setting sun too bright for her liking, the orange hue now covering Kildare. Head thumping steadily caused a dull pain behind her eyes, she rested her heavy head against the seat letting out a huff. Her parents, sitting at the front, looked back at her through the rear view mirror, her mother speaking up as her father pulled out of their drive, making way towards Tannyhill for the family's monthly dinner with the Cameron's.

“I don’t know why you go around acting like an alcoholic y/n.” She spoke dismissively, as she swiped the dark red lipstick across her lips, puckering her lips together before capping the make-up with a click. “I’m not an alcoholic mom” She groaned back, the woman’s voice irritating her, why hadn’t she listened to Rafe? “Well you act like one. There’s a limit,” the woman scoffed, unimpressed by her daughter's unladylike attitude.

“Drop it Marie.” Her fathers voice rose up from behind the steering wheel speaking to his wife, the consistent clicking of the indicator filling the tension of the car. “Can we just have a peaceful evening hmm? No dramatics in front of the Cameron’s.” He continued, Marie pursed her lips as she looked straight ahead, he gazed over at his daughter through the mirror once again,

“You got that princess?”

“Yep.” She spoke back, popping the ‘p’ as she closed her eyes trying to ignore the throbbing in her head before they got to the household.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe was standing in his room, having just put on a new shirt after he had gotten out of the shower. He ran his fingers through his damp hair as he looked in the mirror, his thoughts filled with the family dinner. He knew y/n hated these dinners, probably not as badly as him but she still hated them. As he finished running his fingers through his hair, he heard a knock on his door, his gaze moving over to the sound. 

“Are you coming down y/n’s going to be here soon” Wheezie asked as she leaned against the doorframe, looking over to the boy impatiently. He rolled his eyes as he glanced over to his younger sister. He was about to respond with some sarcastic comment, before the words registered in his head. 

“Yeah, I am.” He responded, his mind now focusing on the fact that he would have to sit around at dinner and act like he had a stick up his ass for the next few hours. He made the final adjustment to his shirt, making sure he looked presentable, before he spoke to Wheezie once more, “Let’s go down then.” The girl walked behind him down the stairs before she spoke out, “You know dad said you’re not allowed to drink tonight…” cautiously, not sure how he’d react to the information, he was a little- unpredictable after all. Rafe rolled his eyes once again at Wheezie’s words, shooting her a glare as they made their way down the stairs. He was starting to get irritated by the rules that his father had for a simple dinner that happened every. single. month. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He muttered in a dismissive tone as he glanced around once they reached the bottom of the stairs, hoping to catch any sign of y/n's family’s car pulling up. 

Sarah doesn't even need to be here, funny

The car rolled onto the grounds of the Cameron’s residence, gravel crushing under the wheels. Coming to a stop outside the building y/n let out a breath. Knowing tonight was going to be a long one, she prayed that Rafe was going to be in a good mood as she got out of the car, walking a few steps behind both her parents towards the doors. Rafe and Rose waited outside in the front yard as the car pulled up into the long drive way of the Cameron’s house. Rafe watched as he saw the family’s car coming up, he could faintly make out y/n's figure sitting in the backseat through the tinted windows, he chuckled as he watched her put on glasses to shield her eyes from the sun. 

Told her she’d have a hangover  

She followed her parents to the entrance of the home, both of them greeting Rose joyfully, a small ‘hello’, 'how are you' directed to Rafe before they walked off into the home following the blonde woman. Two steps behind them she got to the entrance, eyes looking at Rafe through her sunglasses letting out a huff of air. He chuckled as he watched y/n approach, seeing her in those glasses, grumpy and somewhat dishevelled. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He smirked and held out his hand, “Rough night?”

���Shut up,” She grumbled as she held her hand up to him to stop the boy from his teasing. She took his hand as she walked up the stairs to the entrance, shaking her head she gestured to the doors leading inside. He smiled at her grumpy response and tried his best to hold back his laugh, “You’d only have yourself to blame princess. Told you it was a bad idea.” He spoke out with a teasing grin, as he put his hand on the small of her back, leading her into the home. They walked into the dining room, parents all speaking to each other. She looked over to the side where she noticed Wheezie running up to her happily.

“Y/n!” She exclaimed glad to see the older girl again, arms wrapping around her.

“Hey Wheeze,” she spoke out softly, one hand on the girl's back as her other one reached up, taking her sunglasses off her face. She knew if she didn’t her mother would complain, reminding her about manners. Rafe observed silently as the girl greeted his younger sister, she always looked up to her like a big sister, like Sarah. He leaned against the wall behind them as she spoke, crossing his arms, unable to take his eyes off of her, careful not to make it obvious. His parents sat at the table talking, while Wheezie clung to y/n’s side ranting about something he wasn’t really paying attention to.

“Omg no way what?!” Y/n gasped out invested in the girl’s story as she spoke to her about school gossip. The younger girl nodded her head eagerly before she turned away being called by her stepmother. He smiled as he watched the girl listen to his sister, both of them seemed to be completely immersed in whatever was going on. His eyes followed the young girl’s path as she turned to go sit next to Rose. He looked back at y/n,

“I don’t think she even paused to breathe once during that story.”

“I know right?” She shook her head amused, “I love her.” She spoke tenderly looking over to the girl, head now turning to Rafe, “like my own sister,” she commented. She didn’t have any siblings, and being an only child was an advantage but also a disadvantage when it came to her family. He smiled and met eyes with her, his expression soft as he heard them talk. She looked so sweet and tender as she watched his little sister.

Already like part of the family

 “She really does love you,” he spoke, leaning his head slightly against the wall as he continued to look down at the girl. 

“I’d hope so, I’ve only known her since she was born.” She commented at the boy rolling her eyes sarcastically. He chuckled as she playfully rolled her eyes, “I know, I was there,” he teased. He watched her closely, noticing her tired eyes and faintly dishevelled hair, the effects of the night's drinking, her lip-gloss slightly smudged below her lip. He liked how unkempt she looked in a way, there was something about her usual perfect appearance being messy that attracted him. 

...what? 

“So where’s Sarah?” She questioned. His jaw clenched at the mention of his sister's name, his expression shifted slightly into one of annoyance. “She’s out.” He said, his voice slightly bitter, keeping his answer short.

“Right,” she nodded along. She knew that Sarah was probably out with John B, and the rest of his gang. Not that she had any issue with the pogues, they were actually kind of funny, well when Rafe wasn’t around. Over the years she’s realised that Sarah was the favourite child, the rules applying to the other two siblings always seemed to slip past her. She knew it was because Ward would never criticise his golden child, but it wasn’t her place to say anything anyways. 

“Should we sit?”

He shrugged slightly. He was never super bothered by the fact that Sarah was the favourite, of course sometimes it did bother him, slightly. He knew there was no point crying over it, doesn't mean he didnt think about it.

“Yeah come on.” 

He nodded, grabbing her hand gently and led her over to the table, he pulled out a chair for her, offering it to the girl. She settled into her chair, Rafe sitting down next to her. His knee brushed up against her’s under the table as he pulled his chair in towards the table, they always sat together, it was nothing new. But this felt… different. Maybe it was the silk material of the dress she was wearing? He felt the urge to pull his knee away from her. The room was quickly filled with the sound of cutlery scraping against the porcelain plates, their parent’s discussing the latest news from around Kildare, that this family had done that, and this couple had said this. 

This is pointless… 

Do I still have that joint? 

“So y/n,” Ward spoke up from the other end of the table, breaking the silence between the two teens, “Rafe tells me you’ve been busy with your family business, that right?” 

She looked over to the man at his unexpected question, nodding lightly. “Yes sir,” she said, her parents always urged her to treat him with the utmost respect, considering that he was such a great financial investor in their company. Yet there was nothing more that she wanted but to ignore him and continue eating.

Rafe glanced over at his father when he spoke up. Ward had been asking about y/n a lot lately, his interest in the family business had perked up, being involved with the family for years but recently more than in the past. Rafe knew exactly why, the business had been doing well lately, and his father, being a rich financial investor, wanted to get involved some more to ensure their own success. He looked over at y/n, watching as she responded respectfully to his father, he almost wanted to laugh at how his father’s eyes lit up at the way she treated him.  

“She’s been working very hard.” she nodded her head as the boy spoke up from next to her, wondering what else the man could possibly want to ask her. She was aware that Rafe knew about the family, she told him everything so she wasn’t surprised when he responded for her. 

“Maybe you could learn from y/n hmm Rafe?”

Silence

 Y/n’s eyes flickered over to Rafe, his fork now harshly gripped in his hand. His head whipped around to look at his father as he clenched his jaw in displeasure. He tried to control the annoyance from seeping into his voice but anyone could hear the tension in his tone as he spoke up,

“I do plenty of hard work.”

“Right.” 

Ward responded firmly, clearly unimpressed. Y/n could sense the tension between them, she felt the need to change the conversation to break the uncomfortable atmosphere which formed around the table, everyone else keeping their eyes down from the father son clash which has commenced halfway through dinner, 

“Um Rafe tells me the company is expanding really well…”

Rafe felt his irritation grow as his father continued to belittle his work, in front of everyone, but he tried his best to hold in the anger. He was thankful as he heard y/n speak up, trying to change the subject away from what his father had been pestering him about. Ward seemed to loosen his annoyance and turned back to the girl, 

“Yes, but I must say, I’m quite taken back by what your parents have achieved. It’s very impressive.”

Y/n sat back as her father jumped to the occasion to discuss his work. She let out a quiet breath, shoulders lowering in relief. From the corner of her eye she could see Rafe, body still tense as he aggressively cut into the food on his plate. Her hand reached out under the table, palm lowering gently to rest on his knee in a comforting gesture. He felt the girl’s hand lower down onto his knee, it did comfort him slightly. He let out a small huff of air as her hand gently stroked his knee. He hadn’t noticed how tense he’d become when his father started talking to him, she was the only one who could tell. He let out a sigh, knowing he would have to try and avoid his father for the rest of the night, for both of their sakes.

Her eyes searched for his sending him a small smile, hoping to reassure him. She didn’t like the way his father treated him, never had and never will, she hated it actually. He acted like Rafe was the black sheep of the family, always finding a way to remind him of that. She kept her hand on his knee as her other hand held the silver fork, stabbing at the salad on her plate and lifting it to her mouth. He felt a small sense of relief at the girl’s smile, he’s realised over the years that she often didn’t like the way his family talked to him, especially his father which she wasn’t afraid to tell him about. As he watched her take a bite off her fork, his eyes couldn’t help but notice her soft lips close around the fork. The subtle curve of her mouth lingered on the metal, a delicate, almost teasing motion, his chest felt tight. In that moment he almost forgot the tension from earlier as his mind was occupied by something else now.

Stop

She heard the boy next to her clearing his throat, mumbling out an ‘excuse me’ as the sound of the chair scraping against the floor filled the room, rising and standing up, chucking his napkin onto the chair and walking out the room towards the bathroom. Her brows furrowed slightly, had Ward worked him up that much? He mumbled out his  apology to everyone in the room as he stood up and quickly walked out the room, he shut the bathroom door behind him and let out a frustrated sigh. It was his father, that’s what it was. It was how he talked to him that pissed him off, he hated being made to feel like a complete failure in the eyes of his father, and he hated that he couldn’t do anything about it. 

But that wasn’t it though was it? 

… 

It was Angelina. It was the way her hand rested on his knee, that damned smile she’d send him to get him to calm down. Those, those stupid lips which lingered on her fork and wrapped around her straw when she lifted her glass to drink. 

Get yourself together 

She looked over her shoulder wondering if she should follow after the boy, would her parents get mad if she just got up after him. She turned her head back now, Wheezie who was sitting opposite her looked at the girl nodding her head slightly so no one else would notice, shoving a potato into her mouth as she did so. “Um- I’m sorry I’ll be right back.” she spoke out gently, no one paying any attention as they’d fallen back into conversation, she quietly stood up walking in the same direction as him.

Rafe let out another frustrated sigh, hand coming up to pull at his hair as he stared at himself in the mirror. He put his hands on the edge of the sink and let his shoulders drop. He was annoyed but that wasn’t all. Y/n was still on his mind, her hand, her sweet smile, her lips… He never struggled to control himself around her. Fuck. She was his best friend. Yet tonight he couldn’t help it, he was overthinking and over analysing every single action, every single smile, every single touch and it was making him lose his mind slightly. 

Is this a symptom of withdrawals?

 He’d tried to lower his intake of the white powder, he knew she’d asked him to try cause she was getting worried. He felt bad. He’d never want to be the source of her Worries. But this just wasn’t right. The quiet sound of the bathroom door opening pulled him out of his mind and he snapped his head up to see who’d entered. His eyes widened slightly as he saw y/n, he hadn’t expected her to follow him.

“What are you-”

“-are you okay?” 

She whispered out as she quickly walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her quietly hoping no one noticed, lord knows gossip would arise between the workers of the household, she’d caught them talking before. He let out an exasperated exhale. Of course, of course she was checking in on him like she always did. He felt his heart flutter slightly at the thought of her worrying about him,

“I’m fine.”

 He responded quickly. He turned to the sink, turning on the faucet and filling his hands with water, he held them in front of his face, not wanting the girl to see expression.

“Okayyyy.” She drew out as she leaned her back against the door of the bathroom, the cold wood pressing against the exposed back of her dress. Her arms crossed as she looked to him sceptically, “You seem a little…. on edge?”

Yeah you have no idea 

He let out a small scoff as she called him out on how he was acting. He was usually so good at hiding his emotions, but the girl had learnt to read him like an open book, it was almost infuriating how well she understood him.

“Really? What gave it away?” He replied sarcastically, he splashed the cool water on his face, trying to hide his expression from her once again.

“Oh I don’t know” She smiled in amusement as she walked over to where he was standing, heels clicking against the tiled floor. Pushing the toilet seat down the porcelain clinking slightly, she sat on the cover as she looked over to him tapping her manicured nails against the marble faucet counter. “Maybe cause you paraded off like a drama queen?” She teased.

He dismissed her with a dry laugh, his eyes rolling in annoyance as she spoke. He knew that she was only teasing him, and he would usually respond with witty remarks and banter, but he couldn’t focus enough to think of a retort back at her, as she sat so close to him taunting.

“Watch it or I’ll lock you in here.” He responded to her teasing, he was trying his best to sound unbothered but it came out as strained instead. Her eyes softened slightly at the sound of his voice. Standing up she stood next to him, hand coming up to place on his bicep in an offer of sympathy, “C’mon I’m serious… are you okay?”

His body tensed slightly as the girl’s hand rested on his arm. Her touch made his skin burn excitedly and he suddenly became hyper aware of how close her body was to his as he stood with his back to the sink. He couldn’t look up at y/n as her eyes gently searched his face, so he kept his eyes down, his jaw clenched. He felt a pang of guilt at her worry for him, he didn’t like it, and he didn’t like the fact he felt like he was taking advantage of the situation. 

If you really knew what I’m thinking, would you still react the same? 

“Yeah I’m good”

“Mkay.” She breathed out, taking a step back realising he needed his space. Her eyes couldn’t help but get caught on the small water droplets still on his face, clinging to his lashes which covered his troublesome eyes, dropping down and rolling down his cheeks, resting on the cupid bow of his lips. Her gaze lingered on his lips, almost involuntarily as she felt a sudden rush of heat she wasn’t prepared for, it was a startling realization, one that made her heartbeat quicken and her breath catch in her throat. 

Wait what?

The feeling of her hand leaving his arm sent a chill down his spine, he had to resist the urge to grab her hand and keep it on his arm. He closed his eyes shut as she stepped back, he was so confused. Why did the girl being so close to him suddenly make his body feel so weird. He opened his eyes after pulling the towel which he had lifted to wipe the water off his face away, to find y/n staring at him.

 “…you’re staring”

“Right”

She cleared her throat, why had her mouth gotten dry all of a sudden. She took a step back, hands clasped behind her back as she waited for him, looking down at the floor. He kept his eyes on her movement. Her body language seemed off for some reason. 

Is she... nervous? 

But that didn’t make sense, he was the one who was confused. Why was she acting so weird? He took a step forward until he was right in front of her, his eyes looking down at her intently, she still didn’t look up at him. He tilted his head down slightly, trying to get her to meet his gaze.

“Look at me”

Noting his shoes now standing opposite hers. Her eyes fluttered up looking at the boy in-front of her. She met his gaze with a small smile as she swallowed trying to regain her composure. 

Is my ovulation cycle earlier or what? 

He looked at her intently, his eyes searching her own, trying to figure out why she suddenly seemed so nervous. He noticed the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed, he saw how her expression seemed to be fighting to stay composed, something was wrong, but he couldn’t work out what it was. His gaze darkened as his eyes continued to scan her face, not breaking contact with the girl’s own eyes,

“Tell me what’s wrong”

He spoke up, his voice low and quiet, in a tone she’d never heard from him before.

“Nothing” 

She spoke out a little too fast. She let out a sigh hand coming up to run over the arch of her brow. “Nothing… I’m just worried about you,” she spoke out, looking at him genuinely. That wasn’t wrong. 

He hummed with a hint of sarcasm, he didn’t believe her. He knew when she was lying, they’ve been friends long enough, and he was certain she was doing it right now. He’d never seen her so nervous, well maybe except for when they were younger and she’d made him meet up with her before her first date with some waitress- or something like that. It was driving him insane. 

“No way, don't lie to me. Something’s wrong. I know it is,” he spoke out firmly.

“If something was wrong I’d tell you,” she arched her brow as she looked up to him crossing her arms speaking out, 

“Would you tell me?”

His eyes bore into y/n’s as she stood in front of him with her arms crossed, her expression determined. 

“Yes I would. I don’t keep secrets from you.”

“Yeah well neither do I.”

 She asserted, looking at him as she tilted her head up. He exhaled loudly in frustration as she stood in front of him with her head held high and her arms crossed stubbornly.

“Bullshit. You obviously are keeping something from me right now. You’re acting weird” He had to put his hand on the counter to ground himself.

“I’m acting weird?” She let out a mocking laugh before pointing her finger towards him, “You’re acting weird!”

He couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his lips as she pointed at him, this was starting to feel more like an argument than a conversation.

“I’m not the one stuttering and staring at the floor” He retorted back harshly gesturing to her as he spoke.

“I’m not the one running away from the table!” she spoke out slightly louder now with wide eyes as her hand gestured out the door back to the table.

His eyes narrowed in response to her remark, this argument was going back and forth, and no one was backing down from their position, he’s been friends with her for too long to know definitely wasn’t going too.

Stubborn brat

Moody asshole

“I didn’t run away” He said, tone now defensive and cold.

“I-” She sighed out, fingers reaching up to pinch at the bridge of her nose, “I didn’t come here to fight Rafe. I just wanted to know if you’re okay.”

He let the tension leave his shoulders as she spoke again, realising he’d projected his own frustrations onto her. He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily and exhaled loudly, realising how annoyed he’d become for some reason. 

“Look… I’m fine, really. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m alright princess.”

He didn’t like the way y/n still looked at him like she didn’t believe him, but he didn’t want to start another argument. He reached out to her gently, his pinkie finger wrapping around her own, the tradition starting when they were younger. 

“I mean it. I’m fine, I promise, alright?”

He spoke sincerely. He really was fine, he couldn’t say what had come over him before, but he was fine now. 

I think 

She smiled genuinely at his action, as she brought their hands up between them keeping their pinkies intertwined, “Pinkie promise?” She spoke out hushed as though it was a secret, she couldn’t deny it amused her, thinking back to how they used to do it when they were younger, it used to be a sacred oath back then.

His lips curled up in a smile as their pinkies intertwined together. He found the childhood gesture endearing, the thought that they both still did it even after all these years. He couldn’t deny it, it made his heart race in his chest. He chuckled lightly as he nodded his head gently, the sound of the girl’s voice whispering filling his ears.

 “Pinkie promise” He responded, his voice just as quiet as the girl's. He didn’t want anyone to hear them from outside the bathroom, as though it was their very own secret ritual once again. She let go of his finger gently as she took a step back nodding her head, her hand reaching out for the door handle, 

“I’ll wait for you outside?” she questioned as she pushed the cold handle, the metal letting out a tiny squeak at the pressure as she pulled it towards her. He sent her a nod, corners of his lips pulling up into a small smile as he turned back to the mirror, faucet turning on again. She slipped through the door, closing them behind her. She let out a breath, leaning her back against the door, hand coming up to push her hair out of her face. 

What the fuck was that about…?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @evermorx89

[entitled-fangirl]

Breakfast is ready.

Felix Catton x reader

Summary: The reader feels sick, but Felix is going to make sure she eats breakfast.

Words: 968

Warnings: sickness, cursing

Author's note: This is kind of from an ask but I made it just about breakfast!

Masterlist

................................................................

She woke up to the blinds being opened by the maid, "Breakfast is ready."

She let out a soft groan, sitting up and stretching her arms out. Her hair was a mess, her clothes frumpeld. She looked over to see that Felix's side of the bed was empty and quite cold. He had been out for a while, and she couldn't possibly guess why he would leave her.

She pushed herself to the edge of the bed, standing onto her feet. Her head hurt, perhaps her body becoming ill, but there was no skipping breakfast. Her legs shivered, her now realizing she is only in Felix's shirt and her underwear. 

Running to the dresser, she pulls a pair of slacks. Pulling them on quickly, she throws a jumper over Felix's shirt. She tames her hair just enough to look presentable. But she takes an extra minute in the mirror, looking at the bags under her eyes. How late had they stayed up?

Throwing on a pair of socks to keep her feet warm, she quickly goes downstairs to breakfast.

Entering the dining room, she's greeted with quiet, "Morning"s. Her eyes immediately scan the table, seeing Felix look up at her too. A bright smile comes across his face at the sight of her sleepy form.

She quickly moves to sit next to him. As she sits down, she feels Felix's hand rest on her back, "You alright, angel?" He asks in a low tone.

"I… yeah. I just don't know why you didn't wake me up this morning." Her hand reaches up to her head as the headache comes back.

He lets out a soft laugh, whispering in her ear, "Well, I figured you deserve as much beauty sleep as I could give you. Seemed to work. I mean, look at you this morning. Taking my fuckin breathe away."

A smile graced her face as her cheek turned a shade of pink.

Duncan entered, "Goodmorning. How would you like your eggs?"

She grimaced, her voice coming out still quiet and hoarse from her sleep, "I'm fine, Duncan. I'm not that hung-"

"-She'll have them over easy. Thanks."

Duncan leaves with a nod.

She turned to Felix, "Why did you do that?"

He shrugs, his arm going over the back of her chair, "You need to eat."

She gives a slight pout, "I can't… my head hurts too bad."

His eyebrows furrow, "Did you sleep alright?"

She nods, "I slept fine, Lex."

He doesn't take that for an answer.

"Listen, angel. You think you're getting sick?"

"No. No. I'm alright."

He nods, deciding not to fight about it at the table. A silence ensues for a while before he decides to break it again. "Oh, angel. We were talking about the Shelley biography."

Venetia jumped in, "yeah. Do you know the story about Shelley's doppelgänger?"

She shook her head, stopping once she remembered the headache.

Felix got up from the table, going to the side table.

Venetia continued, "Shelley's housekeeper was cleaning one of the rooms when Shelley walked past the window and waved at her. So, she waved back before she realized that Shelley was in Italy…"

Felix had returned to the table, gently setting the now made plate in front of his angel for her to eat. She looked at him with a slightly disagreeing look, but knew not to fight about it at the table. 

"…And she was on the top floor of the house…"

Felix grimaced at Venetia's story, his hands moving over his girl's ears to keep her from hearing it. If it would freak him out, he knew she shouldn't hear it, "Oh, Vee. Stop, stop, stop. I won't sleep."

But she continued, "…a few hours later, he drowned."

Elspeth gasped, "oh. Oh, that's just given me goosebumps."

Felix took his hands back, considering it safe for his girl to listen again.

Farleigh stared at the paper in front of him, his voice strong and uncaring, "I heard he fucked his sister."

Sir James finally spoke up, "Oh, for God's sake!"

Felix turned, "Jesus, Farleigh…"

Oliver quipped up, "I think that was Byron."

The table went quiet, as if everyone had forgotten that Oliver was there. That quickly turned to small chatter between the adults.

Farleigh looked disgusted but Felix held an amused smile on his face, turning to her to see she had a matching one. He then pointed at her plate, as if telling her to eat it. About that time, Duncan brought out her eggs, setting it next to her other full plate. She let out a sigh, staring at the food. 

Elspeth was brought out of her talk hearing the girl's sigh. "Oh, darling. Is everything alright?"

Her eyes snapped up, her mouth opening to answer, but Felix beat her to it, "she's not feeling well, that's all."

The mother nodded, "Oh, I see. Nasty sickness going around this time of year. Take your time today, darling."

She nodded gratefully, turning back to her plate. The chattering continued and she continued to stare at the plate. Eventually, Felix brushed her arm lightly with his, his voice soft again, "Is something wrong, angel? You really must eat."

She simply stared at the eggs, feeling herself get sick just staring at them. Felix noticed it, immediately moving the plate away, "Duncan. Could I actually get some eggs just… scrambled?"

"Felix, stop."

"No. I want you to be able to eat what's in front of you. Duncan?"

Duncan nodded, taking the plate away quickly. 

She turns to see everyone staring at them. She mutters a quiet, "I'm sorry."

Felix sighs, "Don't be, angel." He kissed the top of her head as she stared at the table in embarrassment. 

Breakfast continued, Felix's arm around the back of her chair the entire time.

...................................................................

[bubblebabie]

⋅˚₊ ୨୧ R.C. wants to go with you to a lash appointment!

It was a Sunday morning, and the alarm clock on the side of your bed awoke you, the soft sound stirring you from a dream. With a stretch, you reach over to stop the alarm, a rush of excitement warming you as you think of your plans for the day.

After all the anticipation, it was finally the day of your long-awaited appointment. You were always envisioning new and different lash styles, you thought would look so good on you.

You step into your luxurious bathroom, the languid, lustrous tiles echoing in the silence, beneath your feet. Turning on the bright lights, you twist the faucet, letting the water run, its steady flow fills the room before you start brushing your teeth. Thereafter, you rinse your face with refreshing cold water, the droplets revitalizing your skin as the mirror fogs lightly in response.

You move into the expansive walk-in closet, the serene, ambient light illuminating rows of precise arranged clothing. Your eyes scan the wardrobe as you search for the perfect outfit, and your gaze lands on a vibrant Juicy Couture tracksuit. Its rich, velvety fabrics give both comfort and style, and you pull it off the hanger with a satisfied smile. You pair it effortlessly with a set of Juicy Couture slippers, its plush soles offering a relaxing embrace for your feet.

You stroll over to the vanity, taking a moment to run a brush through your hair, each stroke smoothing out the morning tangles. When you are done, you add the final touch. Reaching for a delicate, blush-pink headband, you place it gently atop your head, adding a playful and chic flair to your look. You take a step back, admiring the ensemble, feeling the perfect blend of comfort and style as you prepare to start your day.

You grab your purse and head downstairs, already imagining how beautiful and effortless your lashes will look.

As you walk downstairs, you spot Rafe on the couch, lounging with his phone in hand. He looks up, his gaze meeting yours as you walk toward the door. "Where are you going?" He asks, his voice casual and curious.

"Lash Appointment," you say, glancing at your phone to check the time. "I'll be back in about an hour and a half."

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued, as he's accompanied you to any of your self-care appointments, even though he pays for all them. "Why can't I just come with you?"

You pause, taken aback by his unexpected offer. "Are you sure?" you ask, a silly smile curving your lips. Rafe shrugs, a playful grin adorning his lips. "Yeah," he says, his voice light, "I wanna see my girl get all beautiful."

You smile dreamily, thinking about how eager he is to join you, even for something as small as a beauty appointment. You sigh, knowing he wouldn't have it any other way. "Mmm, okay, but you're driving."

It's a short drive, the miles slipping away effortlessly as you engage in easy conversation. You lift your feet up onto the dashboard, carelessly talking about another upcoming appointment next week. The gentle hum of the car creates a comforting sound to your words. Rafe, eyes still on the road, listens attentively, his casual glances toward you soft with amusement. As you finish your thought, the car slows, and Rafe pulls into the parking lot of the salon.

The Salon is cozy and classy, exuding a feeling of calmness with its light aura - soft melodies drift through the air, and the delicate scent of rosemary lingers, soothing the senses. You and Rafe make your way to the reception desk, where you’re escorted to a lavish reclining chair. Settling into its embrace, you close your eyes, everything fading away as you prepare to surrender to the serenity of the moment.

The Technician, a friendly figure with a warm yet professional demeanor, introduces herself and kindly asks about your desired lash look. You smile and begin to describe the lash map you envision, detailing the length, curl, and volume you prefer. ‘I’d like a hybrid set,’ you say, your voice steady, knowing it was the perfect choice. She nods attentively, her eyes focused as she prepares her tools. Carefully, she cushions your lashes with a soft pad and begins the lash bath, a soothing process where she delicately cleanses your lashes with a gentle, hydrating solution. Its cool liquid glides over your lashes, dissolving any remnants of dirt and oil, leaving behind a fresh, dewy feeling. She works with precision, ensuring every strand is clean and prepped for the extensions - the calming scent of the cleanser filling the air.

Subsequently, she places soft patches over your eyes to shield your lower lashes and prevent any glue from getting on the skin. She starts to apply the individual extensions, one by one-each extension being intentionally selected to match the length and curl of your natural eyelashes. She held a fine-tipped tweezer to pluck the synthetic lashes, dipping the base of each one into glue before placing it onto yours. Her application is precise as she attaches the extension about a millimeter away from your eyelid to ensure a hybrid, volume look.

She begins on the outer corner of your lashes, working her way into the middle and inner sections. She works slowly, making sure the lashes are symmetrical and exactly what you want. You could feel a faint tug every time an extension was applied, but it wasn’t painful—just a light pressure as the glue set.

She takes a full hour to complete the look, working diligently in silence, only breaking it occasionally to ask if you were okay and comfortable. Rafe, who had been sitting quietly in the corner with his phone in his lap, kept his gaze fixed on your face, watching with curiosity and fascination.

Finally, she finishes the last lash, standing up and stepping back to admire her work. "All done!" She says softly, a smile tugging at her lips.

You blink your eyes open, feeling a rush of confidence as you look at your lashes in the mirror. Your lashes are long, full, and curled. The lashes are perfectly fanned out, dark and glossy, giving you a soft and voluminous look.

Rafe's reaction is instant. "Wow. You look beautiful," he says, his voice full of admiration as his eyes widen. You catch a glimpse of his genuine smile, and it makes you feel even more beautiful than the lashes themselves.

You smile back at him, feeling a wave of boldness wash over you. "Thank You, Baby!" you say warmly, touching the feather light extensions.

Having him there wasn't so bad after all.

[sematarygirls]

can you do rafe and reader matching Halloween costumes?

🎃 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── you make rafe do a couple's costume !

   "This is the stupidest fuckin' idea you've ever had," Rafe grumbled begrudgingly as he stood in the bathroom, looking at his reflection in the mirror to aid him in tying his tie.

"We look so cute!" you beamed, ignoring your grumpy boyfriend's dramatics. You had the bright idea that since it was your first Halloween together, it would be so cute to do a couple's costume. Of course, Rafe vehemently protested this idea because he thought he was too cool for Halloween and that dressing up was stupid and childish. The only part he liked of the season was the copious parties with scantily clad women in their sexy-fied costumes and free booze.

It took a great deal of begging and pleading (and a promise of lots of sex to make up for his trouble and lost street cred) for him to finally agree to dress up with you, but when he did, you were over the moon.

You had tons of different ideas. Rafe insisted on the whole cop and prisoner costume, but you shut him down, knowing he had ulterior motives. He just wanted an excuse to put you in handcuffs and have you at his side the entire night. You also considered Ghostface and Sidney Prescott, but you pocketed that idea for another time when finally, you thought of Morticia and Gomez Addams.

You knew Rafe would be more inclined since the costume mainly just consisted of a suit, which meant he wouldn't be dressing up as much as the other costumes demanded. Plus, you knew he'd never pass up the chance to see you in a black dress that hugged you in all the right places—he was a man after all.

His gaze flickered over to your reflection in the mirror, roaming your figure appreciatively. That dress was working for you, and the makeup you'd done to complete the look just made you look all the more sexy. "Why don't we just stay home, yeah?" He proposed. As good as the costume looked on you, he knew it would look better on his bedroom floor.

You rolled your eyes at his entirely predictable suggestion. "I did not get all dressed up just to stay inside all night," you told him, pulling at his arm to turn him toward you, so you could fix his tie. "Besides," you glanced up at him, a smile tugging at your lipstick coated lips. "I want to show all your friends how whipped I've got you."

"I'll take this shit off right now," he threatened, but you knew he wouldn't dare, not when he was betting on you putting out tonight.

"Oh, cmon, don't be like that," you grinned, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He tried to pull you closer and deepen the kiss, but you pulled away. "Ah ah ah," you scolded, using your thumb to swipe away some lipstick that had transferred onto his lips. "You're gonna mess up my makeup."

"You just wait till tonight. I'm gonna mess up your makeup alright," he smirked, his eyes glinting with promise as his hands went to your hips, tugging you closer.

"Mhm," you giggled, planting your hand on his chest and pushing him away. "Keep it in your pants, pretty boy," you told him, turning back to the mirror to fix your smudged lipstick. He crossed his arms watching you intently, thinking of all the things he was going to do to you when you two got back from the Halloween party.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

It’s so sad how mullet Stan lacks content of him 😭😭I wish there would be more fics of him so that’s why im gently asking you to give us more mullet Stan crumbs, it can be anything, headcanons or fic 😔 I will eat everything you’ll serve

⤿❝ Mullet!Stanley x reader headcanons (sfw & nsfw)⭑

a/n: agree i agree just yeah 10000% ! traumatised guys with mullet, bad habits and abandonment, daddy and mental issues are my weak spot

sfw

ᯓ★ he’s terrified of commitment but more terrified of being alone. he’ll push you away just to see if you’ll stay. he wants to trust you, but he doesn’t trust himself

ᯓ★ when he finally realizes you’re not leaving, he clings hard. like, once he’s in? he’s all in. but the idea of starting a family? he wants it so bad but so scared of it. he doesn’t want to turn into his father. he’s aware of his emotional instability and the last thing he wants is to pass that onto a kid. he doesn’t even trust himself to be a good partner, let alone a parent

ᯓ★ despite everything, still has a soft spot for kids but refuses to admit it. will grumble and complain but the second a little kid looks up at him with big, teary eyes, he’s sighing and handing over the last piece of his candy bar

ᯓ★ he is a literal stray, a stray dog that growls when you first bring him home but now follows you everywhere. you don’t date mullet!Stanley, you accidentally adopt him. this man has no home, no direction, no plan. he crashes on your couch “just for a few days, toots, promise” and then six months later he’s still there, wearing your robe, drinking straight from the juice carton

ᯓ★ acts like he doesn’t care but is secretly the most doting boyfriend. will fix your car, carry your groceries, give you his jacket when you're cold, all without asking. he just does it

ᯓ★ he doesn’t take care of himself. showers once every few days, drinks too much, smokes too much, eats like shit. if you ever cook for him it breaks him, he just stares at the plate because it’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever done to him, “you made this? for me?”

ᯓ★ road trip king. you wanna run away? hop in, sweetheart, we’ll figure it out on the way. the kind of guy who drives with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. he’s got half a pack of smokes, a cassette of shitty rock ballads and a mouth full of sweet-talking bullshit

ᯓ★ as i said, he acts like he doesn’t give a fuck but actually gives too many fucks. will pretend he doesn’t care when you get mad at him, but the second you turn away, he’s overthinking. “fuck what did i say? shit, why am i such an asshole?”

ᯓ★ if you tell him you love him, he always hesitates before saying it back. not because he doesn’t feel it, but because he doesn’t think he deserves it

ᯓ★ literally stunned when you take care of him. like, someone is doing something NICE for him??? with no ulterior motive???

ᯓ★ absolutely a ‘leaning’ boyfriend. leans against walls, leans against doorframes, leans against you. big strong arms wrapping around your waist from behind, head dropping onto your shoulder with a sigh

ᯓ★ survives off diner food, gas station snacks, and whatever you make him

ᯓ★ gets nervous when you’re nice to him. he’s been kicked down so many times, he doesn’t know how to handle kindness. the first time you tell him he looks good, he scoffs, says something self-deprecating, but then stares at himself in the mirror later, touching his face trying to see what you even saw in him

ᯓ★ secretly loves being babied. if you push his messy hair back, clean his cuts when he gets into a fight or tuck yourself into his side when he's sitting down, he fucking melts. “psh, ya don’t gotta do all that,” but his ears are bright red

ᯓ★ will steal anything for you. “ya like that necklace, sweetheart? consider it yours.” he’s a walking, talking, petty thief boyfriend who just wants to see you smile

ᯓ★ lets you play with his mullet when he’s feeling lazy. sits between your thighs while you brush it and if you’re gentle enough, he’ll doze off right there, resting his head against your stomach

ᯓ★ loves his car more than he should. will drag you to the garage to show you how he’s fixing up some old junker, but he looks so proud, you can’t even complain. bonus: he makes you sit in it for a “test drive” (he drives too fast just to see you scream and laugh)

ᯓ★ hands always busy. even when you’re just sitting together, his hands are moving, tinkering with something, rubbing circles on your thigh, tapping on table. he's anxious stressed guy

ᯓ★ he falls asleep anywhere instantly. he’s had years of shitty, uncomfortable sleep, so at this point he can knock out in two seconds flat. the first time you see it happen, you’re stunned. “Stan, are you seriously asleep right now—?” he is. sometimes, he falls asleep sitting up, mouth slightly open, arms crossed. if you try to move him, he’ll grunt, shift slightly and keep sleeping

ᯓ★ he’s a sucker for physical affection but doesn’t know how to ask for it. please, just hold him. run your fingers through his hair, rub his back, let him rest his head on your chest or stomach. sometimes, he’ll just stand behind you and wait until you notice and pull him into a hug. he won’t ask, but he needs it

ᯓ★ this man does not know how to handle being desired

nsfw

ᯓ★ he’s big. everywhere. broad chest, thick arms, a cock that barely fits. “c’mon, baby, you can take it. just a little more, there we go.”

ᯓ★ he’s a messy kisser. tongue, teeth, biting, groaning, he devours you. Stanley makes out like he’s trying to fuck you with just his mouth. his hands are always gripping your face, your neck, your hair, he’s desperate

ᯓ★ he loves fucking in places he shouldn’t. against the car, in an alley, in the backseat, behind a bar, on some random motel dresser, doesn’t matter. the risk of getting caught gets him off. zero patience. too horny to wait, too desperate to care where you are

ᯓ★ if you ever scratch his back? he fucking loses it. he wants you clawing at him, gripping his arms, pulling his hair. especially loves it when you bite his shoulder

ᯓ★ fucks like a guy who doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the chance again. so overwhelmed by how good you feel

ᯓ★ he groans and grunts. loud, unashamed. you know exactly how much he’s enjoying it because he never shuts the fuck up. if you try to shut him up, he just moans louder out of spite

ᯓ★ this man talks during sex. a LOT. filthy, filthy, filthy mouth

ᯓ★ but if you try to stifle your moans, oh, he won’t have that. “uh-uh, lemme hear ya, baby. don’t go all shy on me now.”

ᯓ★ he has an oral fixation, always has something in his mouth. a cigarette, a toothpick, his own damn fingers. pussy? oh, he’ll eat for hours if you let him. he’s enjoying it more than you are. his nose is pressed right against your clit, his tongue is buried deep inside you, his big hands are holding your thighs open so you can’t squirm away

ᯓ★ but what he REALLY loves? your fingers. if you put your fingers in his mouth, he’ll groan and suck on them absentmindedly. don't try to pull away, you’re not going anywhere. he’ll grab your wrist, keep your fingers between his lips and just look at you with those dark, needy eyes

ᯓ★ loves when you pull his hair so make sure to always grab and yank his mullet while he’s between your legs and he’ll groan into your pussy like he’s getting off on it

ᯓ★ the kind of man who will fuck you dumb just to make sure you don’t even remember anyone else’s name

ᯓ★ absolute menace with that tongue + so so messy. will spread your legs, settle between them and go to fucking work. licking, sucking, slurping, spitting on your clit, growling against your folds. doesn’t stop until you’re begging. “c’mon, sweetie, one more for me”

ᯓ★ absolutely gets off on how loud you are. doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night or the middle of the day, he’ll fuck you so good you’re screaming his name, he prefers it “Stanley” tho, not just Stan

ᯓ★ smokes like a chimney, including during sex. he’s the type to take a long drag of his cigarette while you’re riding him, exhaling the smoke lazily as he watches you bounce on his cock. “fuck, baby, keep goin’. look so pretty takin’ me like that.” then puts it out against the nightstand right before flipping you over and fucking you senseless

ᯓ★ smoking during foreplay too, pulls cigarette out of his mouth and presses it into the ashtray, muttering, “gonna put this out and focus on you, sweetie.”

ᯓ★ if you complain about him smoking too much, he’ll smirk, tilt your chin up, and say something like, “well, maybe if you keep me busy enough, i won’t need to smoke, huh?” such a brat tbh

ᯓ★ grabs whatever’s closest to tie you up. belt? works just fine. an old rag? perfect. (also wants to be tied up too)

ᯓ★ a tipsy Stan gets handsy, real handsy. he’s already got no shame sober, but when he’s had a couple of drinks, he can’t keep his hands to himself, your thighs, your waist, your ass

ᯓ★ praise him in the most filthiest way possible, call him big, tell him he’s stretching you out, tell him you’ve never had anyone fuck you like this. tell him how much you love his cock, how deep he is. he thrives on that shit, loves being told how good he feels. “fuck, baby, keep talkin’ like that and i might not last.” but he also LOVES teasing you. “poor thing, already dumb from my cock?”, “look at you, makin’ a mess all over me. filthy little thing.”

ᯓ★ i 100% believe that mullet!Stanley is a bratty switch who acts tough but turns into a desperate, whiny mess the second you take control. i think it needs its own post but ok

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕲UESS ᝰ! CHAPTER SIX

synopsis: katseye lucked out when their team managed to score a-list award-winning actress, y/n l/n to be featured in their upcoming music video for ‘touch’. when the cameras turn off and the doors close, lara feels a little more than just onscreen chemistry with her music video love interest.

On the drive to the café, you assured your manager you would make sure you all show up to the studio on time. In the black corvette you got from your parents as a gift for your 18th after winning a Golden Globe. Dressed in a grey sweater, a navy MLB cap on backwards, some camo sweats, and some ice, you were definitely dressed more on the comfort-casual side. You knew you were going to be thrown in so many different styles and getups for the day, you needed some relief.

You hadn’t even noticed your heart drumming against your chest until you turned into the last corner the café was on. You usually concealed emotions well, especially when it came to meeting different kinds of people. It was your job to be able to put up a front, but the sound of your heart racing against in your ear was drowning out the sound of the radio.

The café you wanted to go to was frequented by Californian stars, you knew their security personnel was good enough for you to have a private first meeting.

When you parked, you checked yourself in the mirror, yanking your phone out of its holder. You texted your manager a quick message informing him of your arrival before getting out the car. Sophia had texted you they had arrived a couple minutes ago, so you’d assumed they had gotten a seat for themselves. When you entered the coffee shop, you were greeted by the barista you had the pleasure of befriending after many trips here for a snack early before a flight or late after a shoot.

“Hey, y/n, good to see you.” Yeonjun called. He grabbed a paper cup, flipping it in-air before holding a pen to its “I got your usual coming up. Want a bite today?”

You hummed, “Yeah, an eclair would be great. I’m actually here to meet a couple new friends, YJ. Did you happen to see a group of pretty women walking in here?”

He nodded, gesturing towards the back. “Around the cut, I got them a table out of view. Figured it was important.”

You shot him a smile. “Thanks. $30 in the jar for you.”

You stuffed a couple notes in the tip jar, giving him a wink. He chuckled, shaking his head. “You spoil me.”

When you circled around back to the VIP section of this café, it was criminal how fast your eyes scouted the group out of the few people sitting. When they spotted you, Sophia was first to stand, meeting you in the middle for a brief hug.

“Oh my God, y/n! It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

You smiled at her, “Yeah, likewise. Damn, you guys are crazy tall.” You joked, glancing between all six of them. They were a good couple inches taller than you, but their bright smiles and vibrant clothing gave them a softer, friendlier edge. “And more beautiful than your pictures, which I didn’t think was possible.”

They’re all stunning in their own way—each with a presence that demands attention—but one of them catches your eye almost immediately. Her tall, dark and mysterious aura seemed to intrigue you—just like she had when you saw her pictures.

She’s standing just a few feet away, her posture confident but not overbearing. There's an easy grace to her movements as she adjusts something on her wrist, her attention momentarily focused on fixing the crooked bracelet as Manon and Sophia bombarded you with words. Yet, as soon as her gaze shifted to meet yours, it broke through your professional exterior, you glanced down, swallowing thickly to regather your composure. You looked up, feeling Daniela push herself forward between the two eldest members of the group.

“Honey, we are absolutely obsessed with you.” she grinned, tilting her head. She was rather affectionate, loud when she was excited. You could see why your friends recommended texting her to break the ice. “When we found out we would be working with you, I almost broke my phone.”

“Spoiler alert, she did break her phone.” Megan snorted, earning an exaggerated glare from Daniela.

As they bickered about, you found your nerves easing at the chaotic energy these girls brought. Without the supervision of their manager, they were rather unfiltered, and that made you a lot more comfortable. Still, your attention split between the narrative and a certain red-headed Scorpio, who had yet to say anything despite being the one you’ve talked to most online.

You found yourself drawn to her. There's something about the way she carried herself—effortless, cool, but with a quiet intensity that felt magnetic. The other members chattered around you, making small talk, but your attention kept slipping back to Lara, who seemed to sense your curious gaze. She offered you a subtle, knowing smile, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat. And that had only ever happened around one other person in your life, a person who loved playing games with you.

"Do y’know anything about the music video?" When she finally spoke, her voice was smooth, velvety, almost teasing, as if she already knew more about you than she let on. It didn’t seem intentional, like that was who she was, who she presented herself to be. It was so attractive, so electrifying.

"No," you managed, your words feeling a little more breathless than you'd like. "My manager didn’t tell me anything.”

Her smile widened just a fraction, her eyes flicking down your outfit before returning to your face. "I think it’s gonna be fun. But you’ll be in and out the changing room a lot today."

Both of you didn’t seem to notice the knowing glances shared among the other five members, before Sophia cleared her throat, changing the topic. “We gotta head to the studio, have you gotten anything to eat yet?”

You nod, the energy between the two of you palpable now, thick with unspoken curiosity. As the others continue talking, you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more here—a connection, an unspoken understanding—that might make this experience with Katseye something… memorable. And it’s definitely not just the music video you’re thinking about now.

You can’t help but wonder how deep this connection could go.

You just could not stop thinking about Lara. You wanted nothing more than to get to know her better, get to know what was behind those sharp eyes and gated lips. Her confidence was intoxicating, the way her eyes raked you up and down, despite showing no interest over text and obviously having a lot of people she’s talking to on the side.

You had been welcomed by so many respectful staff, given so many gifts and invited into comfortable spaces. Even when you were finally stripped out of your last outfit and lead to a room to wait while Roy and Katseye’s team made a couple arrangements, you couldn’t stop thinking about her.

It was obvious to you there were more eager members of the band who wished for some time alone, but you just wanted to figure her out. As insane as that sounded, you reminded yourself you only began texting this woman for one weekend, and this morning was the first time you’d laid eyes on her.

“Okay, thank you for waiting, y/n.” Grayson, the director of the music video announced when he walked through the door. “It’s an honour to be able to work with you.”

“Likewise,” you replied with a smile, eyeing Sophia behind him.

“So I’ve explained your parts in this music video. You’re the woman these girls have been thinking about, they’re sad, they’re mad, they’re frustrated with you toying with their feelings.” You nodded along to his explanation, “You’ll be filmed rolling your eyes when they call, ignoring them, flirting with other people and stuff but those are standalone scenes. For another part of the video we’re gonna film last, we need you posing in a photo booth with one of the girls like a cute couple, before walking down the street chasing after another woman you saw through the shop window.”

So you were playing the toxic partner in a relationship; that’s a first, you’ve always been on the receiving end.

“So right now, we have the girls lined up and we’ll do a really quick chemistry screening. Sophia’s up first.”

The two of you shared a quick smile, before you were guided towards a table with two cups in front of a camera. You were then told to act like the two of you were on a date. And though Sophia’s bright expression softened the awkward tension at first, it was obvious when the two of you would accidentally move your hands at the same time and apologize quickly.

The director shook his head, “Okay, the two of you look cuter as a friendship, the romance feels forced on screen.”

Sophia nodded, the two of you sharing a couple words making a joke about breaking up before the leader was invited to leave. Then came Manon, and you knew it was going to be a while.

next. 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ masterlist.

taglist: @vivilvr @1luvkarina @meiphobic @yeetaberry127 @lafortezalover @lararajjj @kristalag @meizinisnumberone @vrtualstar @artrizzler19 @arihiu @cassiespoiler @nyssalvr @hazel-tanthamore22 @kathleenmikaelson @taikabui @wtfisthisnoclueman @onlyyou-metanoia @yjiminswallet @firstclassjaylee @xochitlisbest @saysirhc @sunshinez4 @fruityg0rl @urmom2314 @cceanvvaves @bowforgodjihyo @blushmimi (taglist open!)

[marauder-misprint]

A walk

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.5k words

cw: fluff

Once again, you are pacing your dorm before a date with Sirius. You had gone back to your dorm to drop off your things and change. And you pace. You can’t figure out why you’re so nervous for a walk. At least last time, it was dread holding you back. It also doesn’t help that you don’t have a Dorcas waiting for you to get your act together and just go. 

“He’s just a guy,” you tell yourself as you stop in front of the mirror. “Just a guy.” 

Just a guy who you recently fell in love with… You take a deep breath, staring at your reflection. You look good. Yes. You are as physically ready for the walk as you’ll ever be. It’s just your brain that’s preventing you from walking out of that door and meeting Sirius outside the bell tower. 

“Alright. Fuck it.”

You pass Regulus in the common room. His eyes follow you and he smirks. He doesn’t know for sure that you’re going to meet his brother, but he does know that most of your friends are in the library and you wouldn’t bother changing out of your uniform to study. You don’t make eye contact with Regulus so he doesn’t say anything. In fact, you don’t acknowledge anyone on your way out. Your tunnel vision blocks all other people out of your mind. 

You can’t help but smile when you see Sirius waiting for you. He’s not leaning against the wall or talking to anyone, just idly standing and gazing up at the sky. 

“Guess you’ll always be waiting on me,” you say as you approach him.

He smiles widely at you. 

“Better than you waiting on me.”

“Why’s that?” you ask as you start walking down one of the paths around the grounds of Hogwarts. 

“Besides that it’s never good to keep a lady waiting?” he asks with a chuckle. “It might make you think I don’t value your time or you. And I do. I don’t want to waste a moment with you.”

“Hmm. Sounds pretty sappy to me.” 

“Maybe so, but that’s what happens when I grow fond of someone.”

“Awww,” you say teasingly. “The great Sirius Black is fond of me?”

“Yes, and it’s good of you to finally acknowledge how amazing I am!” 

“Too bad great isn’t always a positive thing,” you say slyly, giving Sirius a sideways glance and a smirk.

His face shows the offense he’s taken.

“I’m kidding, Sirius,” you tell him with a laugh. “You really think I’d be here if I didn’t like you on some level?” 

“Then what’s so great about me?” 

“You want me to list them off?” 

“Just one thing then.”

“You smell nice.” 

Sirius’ grin just keeps widening with every step you take. He would be bragging to the boys later that you thought he smelled nice, serves them right for making fun of him for his expensive taste in cologne. 

Unlike your walk to Hogsmeade, Sirius doesn’t have his arm around you. You aren’t touching in any way, just walking side-by-side. You both had your hands shoved deep into your coat pockets. You slightly regret suggesting a walk in late December, but at least it guaranteed you privacy. You suppose that someone could technically be watching from an upper window somewhere inside the castle, but your conversations were private. 

“Oh, look! Jobberknolls!” you say, pointing toward the edge of Hogwarts' grounds. “I don’t think they usually come this close to the castle.”

You give Sirius a bright smile.

“Wait here,” you tell him firmly.

Then you slowly walk toward the flock of birds. If you were able to get close enough and acted carefully, you might be able to get some feathers. You stop walking when one turns to look at you. It doesn’t fly away. It chirps and a few more look at you. After a moment, you take another step. They still don’t fly away and that makes your heart soar. Once you decide you are close enough, you adjust your position so you can sit down. All of your motions are in slow motion to not spook the birds. They give you curious looks, only their heads twisting. You know Sirius is watching you but you don’t care. You haven’t interacted with a jobberknoll personally since you learned about them in Care of Magical Creatures. 

To your delight, one hops toward you and you outstretch your hand. It jumps into the side of your hand, which you take as permission to pet it. A few more start to hop toward you as well. Before you know it, you’re surrounded by most of the flock. You don’t pluck any feathers out, partially out of fear they might attack you if you harm them, but feathers that seem to have fallen out are free game. 

You realize you’ve taken a while to get a handful of feathers. You clear your throat and gently push the birds away from you so you can stand up. Putting the feathers in your pockets, you return to Sirius.

“Sorry. I got excited.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s nice seeing you live up to your Animal Person title,” he says, throwing his arm around your shoulder to pull you to his side. 

You don’t mind it. If anything, you appreciate it. This way you can smell his cologne and grow more comfortable under his arm. Your mind has definitely warmed up to the idea that this was a good place to be. 

As you start walking again, you explain all of the uses for Jobberknoll feathers that you know of and everything you remembered about them from that lesson a year or so ago. You start talking about different animals and Sirius tells you about some of the legends he’s heard about them; apparently mooncalves were involved in the resurgence of golden snidgets. Snidgets brings the conversation to quidditch and James and Regulus and all of your friends. 

It’s getting dark as you return to the castle. You haven’t missed dinner so you figure that you’ll skip out on visiting the kitchens. Maybe another time, you thought. 

“You know, Black, if you promise you’ll respond, I think I will write you over break,” you say as he opens the door to let you in.

His face lights up and you feel yourself smiling at him. Gods, how can someone be this attractive?

“You will?” 

“If you promise you’ll respond,” you repeat yourself. 

“Yes, of course, love. It’ll be the highlight of my day!”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheeks as if to suppress your urge to laugh at his eagerness.

“You know, you really are something else, love,” Sirius says.

“Isn’t that why you like me?”

“I mean, I fell for you while trying to get you to like me.”

“Fell for me?”

“Oh, darling, can’t you tell?”

You laugh. “Maybe I want to hear you say it. Fully.”

“I’m doomed. So beyond doomed.”

“Say it, Black,” you tease.

“I’ve fallen in love with you. You’ve made getting you here a challenge but now that you are, Merlin… I really, really want you to stay.”

“You want me to stay, huh,” you repeat with a lilting voice. 

He scoffs but his smile doesn’t dim. “I give a confession of my affection and this, this!, is the response I get.” 

You tsk him. “You’re confession was missing one vital question though.”

He cocks his head at you in confusion. 

“What question?”

“Well, it would just sound silly coming from me since it was your confession.”

“But if you were to ask the question. What, erm, what would it be?”

“Coming from me,” you start to say as you look away from Sirius for a moment. “Sirius, would you do the honors of letting me be your girlfriend?”

He stops walking, staring at you with a dumbfounded look on his face. That question. And you had been the one to ask it. Despite having said he was in love with you, Sirius thought it was too soon to ask. He thought you’d need more time, more dates, something more substantial from him before putting a label on it. 

“You… You want to be my girlfriend?” 

“Sirius,” you groan. “I’m not asking again.” 

“So we’re dating then.”

You nod, once again biting the inside of your cheeks. He sure was an idiot at times, but he made it work. 

“Oh! And just so you know, the offer still stands.”

You give him a confused look. You hadn’t discussed any offers on your walk.

“To visit the Potters over break. To see Padfoot, or me,” he explains. “You could floo in. Or they’ve got a muggle car. We can come get you. Or meet you somewhere.”

“Oh… My parents can be kind of strict about how much I go out… But I’ll see what I can do to convince them.”

As you walk into dinner, you debate if you should tell Regulus about this new development or keep him out of the loop for now. You laugh to yourself as you imagine his reaction if he found out from a Ravenclaw or Mulciber or, really, anyone but you.

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468, @bmyva1entine, @ravisinghs-wife, @azure-drag0ness, @sunowee, @mysteriouslyperfecttiger

The next chapter will be that last official chapter for this series. I might do additional content later on if inspiration strikes. Again, thank you for all the love you have shown this series :)

[voylitscope]

This post about fic length came across my dash. It got me thinking about how many truly incredible Stucky fics under 5k I've read — specifically about the short fics that have broken and/or healed my heart.

So, I made this quick rec list of 10 under 5k Stucky fics that are deeply heart-affecting and emotionally devastating.

(There are so many beautiful, moving, and painful fics in this fandom that come in at under 5k. In the interest of keeping this list to 10 fics, these fics are all also canon/canon-divergent.)

💔 Cheat Days | chicklette | Mature | 2,033 words | Pre/Post TWS

Quote I'm unwell about:

Only on the very worst days – when he is tired and sore and hurts all over, hurts inside and out. Sometimes it’s the fight that does it, his need to be held, to be loved after throwing himself on the line. Other times it’s something else - something more cruel – a joke that he knows Bucky would find hilarious, a movie that Bucky would have loved, a book. Sometimes Steve is just so goddamned lonely that he feels like he’s going to come out of his skin. Then he has what he calls a cheat day. A day when he closes up his apartment and uses the coin, and sighs into Bucky’s embrace.

💔 029. Mirror | aimmyarrowshigh @aimmyarrowshigh | Mature | 2,400 words | Pre-War

Quote I'm unwell about:

“I wanna sit at his bedside when he’s sick,” Bucky says finally. “And buy him hot dogs at Dodgers games. And uh… I guess, I wanna…” He exhales and looks down, away from Mrs. Rogers’ eyes. They’re too much like Steve’s and Bucky’s never said this out loud, not even to him. “I wanna get an apartment for the two of us and curtains that close, and I want to teach him how to dance to Cole Porter records. I want to finish all his stupid fights. I want… I dunno. A lotta impossible things.” Sarah’s voice is so soft. “Like what?” “I want to see him grow old,” Bucky mutters. “Right beside me. I want it to be a hundred years from now and look to my right and see Stevie standin’ there.” He blinks away the heavy wetness in his eyes.

💔Not the Needle, Nor the Thread | steebadore | Explicit | 2,017 words | Post-TWS

Quote I'm unwell about:

"Okay, sweetheart, okay," Bucky whispers, running his thumbs over Steve's brow, his wet eyelids, down that bumpy, ungainly nose--the only physical evidence that Steve is a flawed human and not a figure cut from marble. If you asked Bucky what he loved most about Steve, he might say something like his goddamn earnest heart, or those too beautiful-for-spacious-skies eyes, but really it was this: the bump on Steve's nose, put there by Bucky himself, age eleven. Selfish, maybe, but Bucky never pretended to be otherwise these days. He doesn't know why the serum didn't fix that--Bucky likes to think it couldn't. Steve always said how it didn't change anything, just amplified what he already had, and what he had was Bucky's mark on him, down to the bone. This one's mine, it said. You cannot have him. Not the whole of him.

💔Through the notches in your spine | caughtinanocean | Explicit | 4,460 words | Post-TWS

Quote I'm unwell about:

Maybe Steve was right to worry, and maybe he's not ready and—he's breathing too fast, and Steve's going to notice any moment now, going to stop and leave. Steve lets go of Bucky's hand to stroke the side of his face, tender and soothing. He leans in to give Bucky a soft kiss on the lips, and Bucky doesn't feel so panicky anymore. He's with Steve. Steve is inside of him, as close as someone could be, and nothing bad could ever come of that. Bucky wills himself to focus on the moment, to watch Steve's face, soft with affection, to relax and enjoy this. “'s like it's my first time all over again. How many people get a shot at that twice?” Steve groans. He looks flushed and giddy and bright, and Bucky's inordinately proud that it's his words and his body making Steve glow like that. “I'm gonna make it way better for you this time.” “Our first time was bad?” Bucky asks, trying not to sound crushed, even though he feels it a little.

Steve traces Bucky's jaw and down the line of his neck to caress his chest. “No, our first time was perfect. We had no idea what we were doing, but it was perfect.”

💔A History of Birds | OddityBoddity | Not Rated | 2,580 words | Post TWS

Quote I'm unwell about:

“I don’t remember,” he says. Steve holds his breath. “I don’t remember telling anybody about that.” It’s like there’s something stuck between his lungs, like something’s pulling them apart in his chest. “You mean about the bird?” he whispers. Bucky looks at him. Not staring, not really, but looks at him like Steve’s looked at paintings before. Like he’s trying to work out how it’s done. “That little bird,” Steve says quietly. When he speaks, he speaks like the words are a spell or a prayer. Like the words are going to reach into Bucky the way his name once did. Like they’re going to catch his arms and pull him up to safety. This secret they both kept. Something so little, so inconsequential that no one has touched it.

💔You Will Meet a Stranger | spitandvinegar | Mature | 3,081 words | Post-TWS

Quote I'm unwell about:

"Steve," she says, unruffled. "He needs someone who'll look at him without pining for who he used to be."

Steve sets his coffee cup upright again. He mops up the mess with a napkin. "Honestly," he says, "All I ever pine for is for him to look back."

💔This is the place | dharmashark @dharmasharks| Explicit | 4,654 words | Canon divergence

Quote I'm unwell about:

With a metal hand there, under the small of his back, Steve might as well be weightless. It’s terrifying. For Steve to be so fragile in ways that Bucky isn’t, and might never understand. But Steve has never been afraid, has never shrank away. Not ever. Not even when Bucky could have—when he would have—when he almost hurt him—Steve had only balled his fists and locked fierce, red-rimmed eyes on his. Steve is fragile; he is unbreakable. Bucky’s memory is full of contradictions.

💔i've seen my share of trouble and i've held my weight in shame | inevitablemeow  | Teen | 4,166 words | Post-TWS

Quote I'm unwell about:

Bucky is a ghost, still, in the wind so far they haven’t been able to find him. It’s been six months since the helicarrier, and Steve hasn’t lost hope, not fully, but he’s slowed his search. Seeing this heart, knowing that all the others are his, has that hope roaring back to life. They’re his. They’re all for him.

💔sorrow sings a song in me | unicornpoe | Teen | 4,425 words | Post-TWS

Quote I'm unwell about:

Bucky’s note is on a thick piece of cardstock, and the words are a little more steady, this time. STEVE, IT HELPS ME TO READ THESE THINGS. I THOUGHT IT MIGHT HELP YOU TOO. I MISS YOU. I WANTED TO CRAWL UNDER THAT BLANKET WITH YOU, BUT I DIDN’T KNOW IF I SHOULD. I DON’T THINK I’M GENTLE ANYMORE, AND I WANT TO BE GENTLE WITH YOU.

💔more than anything | jehans | Explicit | 2,938 words | Pre-War

Quote I'm unwell about:

Steve is a reckless asshole who Bucky loves unconditionally and wholeheartedly, and when Steve is quietly undoing him in their bed, loving on him openly and indulgently the way Bucky doesn’t always let him, it becomes difficult to keep pretending that Bucky wouldn’t go to the ends of the earth for any of Steve’s whims. But mostly, what makes him so honeyed in these moments is the way Steve transforms. When he climbs on top of Bucky, all of Steve’s usual, too-close-to-the-surface anger drains out of his eyes, clearing away into pure blue skies of utter adoration. It’s an honesty that Bucky cracks under, breaking open the clay of mundanity and allowing him to shine brightly under Steve’s hands.

Fic rec series

[hyugos9blue6small9hairs]

Sol x reader

Wearing costumes associated with each other to the halloween party

You're head is down on your desk, infront of you is Crowe "I just don't know what I'm going to do about the party" you grown as you punch the desk that's under you, Crowe softy smiles at you, you pause as you look up at him, his gaze soft and welcoming "why don't I help you figure it out" he tilts his head to the side with a smile on his face as he spoke "I mean it's only in two more days, and Sol's coming, right?" He asks, you nod in response.

Now you're here at some halloween themed store (Totally not spirt halloween) you're following behind Crowe browsing the Iles

"what are you being?" You ask him, Crowe cracks a smile in response to your question

"I'm going as a plague doctor" he beams his bright, welcoming, gentle smile, he turns away awkwardly scratching the back of his head "though...I did consider going as a crow" you smile in response placing your hands behind your back and standing up straight

"Considered picking something that fit the name?" She teased leaning in towards him

"Yeah" he whispers happily.

Something finally managed to catch your eye.

Crowe's voice from behind you made you flinch "you're going to be a vampire?" He asks

you quickly turn around to face him "no" you say firmly standing up straight with your head up high "that's unoriginal, I'm going to be!" You slam your foot down on a sensor triggering a monster to pop out at Crowe, he moves back in response in an attempt to continue looking at you.

"I'm going to be a vampire's victim" you overdramaticly place the back of your hand on your forehead.

Crowe chuckles slightly "a Vampire's victim?" You nod enthusiastically

Crowe stares at you "wouldn't you just be wearing normal clothing?"

You fold your arms staring back at him "I'll manage" you smile.

You're at home lying on your couch on your phone, your phone vibrates, phone already in hand you look to see who texted you

Hyugo

He texted you

"I heard you're going to some halloween party, what are you going as?"

You: "a vampire's victim, how did you know I was going?"

"Sol said you invited him"

You:"I did 😅 he still going?"

"With him right now, he's being grumpy cuz I dragged him to this detective movie 🙄"

"This dude has to figure out why all these kids have been going missing, turns out this one girl had this stalker-"

Hyugo continued ranting to you about the movie, all you could do was smile down at your phone.

Day of the party

You're at the front door Crowe is greeting you and you head inside while texting Sol that you are inside, you quickly run and check a close by mirror to make sure you're makeup is okay, you have a very detailed bite mark on your neck with blood running down it all the way to the top of your chest. Your phone vibrates

"Here"

You quickly move to the door opening it and Sol walks inside, the two of you make it to a corner out of people's way, Sol turns to look down on you.

You finally see the details in his costume "you're a Vampire" you mumble with surprise.

I wasn't sure how to continue this, so if you want a part 2 please give me some ideas T.T

[aspergerasparagus]

I just found this blog and I love your writing so much!! I was wondering if you take suggestions? If so, possibly a little thing about Lucky’s consciousness getting transferred to an animatronic from that one ask, I found it a really interesting idea!! No worries if not you can just ignore the suggestion!

Thank you and angst hours angst hours angst hours!

Pain. Searing red hot pain piercing through his chest. The agony almost indescribable, each breath more tortuous than the last as the blood filled his lungs and his throat, choking him. The rabbit merely offering him fake comfort and empty words as they cradled his broken body, the ecstasy in their voice impossible to hide as they lived out their fantasy. Then darkness. Those were the last things Lucky remembered. It should have been the last things, it should have been his death. But he wasn't deserving of such a luxury. He had so much more to offer.

Gasping, Lucky’s eyes shot open. He was alive. How the fuck was he alive? His mind raced as his eyes darted around, desperately trying to see if Frankie was still around, trying to figure out where he was. Was he in heaven? Hell? Finally his eyes focused as he realised he was laying on some sort of metal bench, harsh fluorescent lights hung over him. The only sound in the room their dull hum and the sound of his own frantic breathing. A painful flash of his last moment’s shot through his head, making him whimper as he clutched his temple. What was happening? What the hell was going on?! Opening his eyes again he felt his blood run cold as he saw his hand.

A bright red cartoony glove met his eyes. Oh fuck no. No. no no no NO NONONONONO! This couldn’t be real! This just had to be a nightmare, a horrible nightmare that he’d awaken from. Hands shaking he dared to look down at his body, expecting hoping to see his broken human body. Please God, please don’t let this be real. 

A choked sob was all he could manage as he was met with a grey, cold, metal suit. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream, claw at this fake body, tear it shreds and reveal his soft human body underneath. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t shed a tear. He couldn’t scream. This body didn’t accommodate such comforts. Fear, disgust, anger, resentment soon overwhelmed him as Lucky tried desperately to get to his feet. He had to get away. He had to-

Lucky cried out as he crashed to the ground in a pile of slinky limbs, his body refusing to obey him due to its strange new anatomy. Staring down at the jumbled mess that was once his legs, he couldn’t figure out how to make them work. They just twitched erratically, unable to process their master's orders. Gagging, he ripped his eyes away, unable to stomach the sight any longer. Pushing down the urge to just curl up and resign himself, Lucky forced his arms to move. Awkwardly he dragged himself across the floor, his arms twitching and spasming with each exertion. He was nearing the door to the room when he made the terrible decision to glance to his side.

What little composure he was maintaining vanished in an instant as he locked eyes with an oversized rabbit that stared right back at him. Their eyes unblinking even with the heavy lids upon them. Their cartoonish grin a cruel mockery to the man in front of them. Trembling Lucky raised a hand, the rabbit in the mirror mirroring him. Touching his face, the rabbit did the same and that was it. Lucky snapped.

A gut wrenching scream forced its way from his throat, the voice foreign and distorted, crackling like it was being projected over a speaker. It was all too much. This couldn’t be real. This had to be a dream. He continued to scream, unable to stop himself now. Swinging his arms widely in anguish, lashing out at anything and everything he felt an arm connect with the table he’d awoken on, sending it flying into the wall. The sound of metal crunching was unable to reach him as he continued to let his pain out. In a fit of desperation he tore at his face, begging for the mask to come off like it once had. Please take it off! I don’t want it on anymore! But he couldn’t find the seam anymore. There had to be one! He felt his fingers dig into the metal as he tried with everything to rip the damn thing off, only to have his hand suddenly yanked away.

“Shhh, no more of that my little rabbit. We can’t have you damaging yourself so soon.” Lucky felt his stomach drop as he slowly turned to look up at the source of the voice. 

“F-F-Frankie…” The other rabbit just purred, hearing his little contestant say his name. He must have missed hearing that. A sudden wave of fresh horror caused Lucky to lurch away. No, not him. Anyone but him. Crying out he hopelessly tried to crawl away, his metal arms uselessly gasping at the floor, his legs dragging behind him, dead weights now. He heard the other rabbit chuckle before they snatched at his ears, yanking him back with a force he hadn’t seen before. Lucky could only screech in pain as he trashed about like a rabbit in a snare, but it was useless, he was caught and there was no escape. Not ever again.

“Shh Lucky. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Frankie’s voice was so soft and gentle as he released his hold and scooped up the man rabbit into his arms, burying his face against theirs. “I’ve missed you so much, but I did promise to not let you rot with all the others. I have much greater things in mind for you, my lucky contestant.” The dangerous growl at the end only made Lucky choke on another sob. Why couldn’t he have just let him die? Let him finally be free of this place. Be free of him. 

He tried to let out a fresh set of screams but Frankie just hushed him.

“No more of that okay. You’ve already damaged your voice module from all that noise before, so no more yelling. It’ll be okay Lucky, I’ll help you get through all this. Get you used to this new body of yours and tell you what you’ll be doing from now on.” Lucky could only look at him numbly, Frankie’s hand coming to cup their cheek, wiping the oil that had been leaking from their eyes before he leaned in, pushing their mouth together in a sick mockery of a kiss. 

“But for now, that can wait. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up but for now, why don’t you have a little rest my cute new little rabbit.” With that Lucky felt his vision go black as he fell into a void of unconsciousness. The last thought replaying over and over in his mind:

Please. Please just let me die.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Could you do a Ken (Ryan Gosling) X Male Reader X Ken (Simu Liu) SMUT? Their Rivalry turning Raunchy when it comes to the MR: Whose kisses are better, who is the better makeout partner, who can give better blowjobs(Resulting in MR getting a Double BJ from both), whose penis, balls, and cum are better and tastier, and finally whose Ass tastes and feels best! ;) ALSO if neither Ken's have genitalia, just smoothness, do they love it when MR rubs and licks them their, turning into moaning messes? ;)

Stereotypical Ken x Male Reader x Pompadour Ken

Headcanons

I’ve learned the only way I can get in the mood to write about Ken is to listen to Bimbo Doll on repeat.

It’s gonna be so confusing saying stereotypical Ken and Pompadour Ken over and over, but I have no idea how else to refer to them 😭

How you ended up with not one but two kens following you around, you had no idea. Maybe it was the fact that you stole two of your sisters ken dolls as a kid, and used to play with them when you played with your ninja turtle toys and monster trucks.

Or maybe it was the fact that you worked at Mattel for like, a few months, and specifically had worked on outfits for Ken and only Ken. It meant you had some kind of connection to them, in some way.

Maybe it was also because you got dragged along with everything that happened with the Kens taking over barbieland, and you had to go save it with the rest.

Stereotypical Ken had been absolutely glowing when you said he looked pretty cute in his Kenough hoodie, and Pompadour Ken immediately seemed to hook onto that, for some reason. Being rivals just seemed to be in their blood, bodies? Plastic?

Now that stereotypical Ken knew how to get from Barbieland into the real world, you get used to him just showing up at your apartment sometimes. He would never tell Pompadour Ken how to get there, because he doesn’t want his rival to have that advantage, but they both figure it out at some point.

Any weaker man would have buckled or probably passed out from the blood rushing upwards and downwards at having two very attractive, not very bright but enthusiastic men, rubbing against you from both sides.

But you were not a weak man, for the most part. In the beginning their competitions were on the normal side. From whom could do the best backflip, to who could cook the best brownies, you never really questioned it, and somehow always made sure to keep their “score” equal.

Both Kens must have stumbled across more adult content, or the overexposure of being in the real world started giving them ideas, because you almost had a heart attack coming home from work one day and they both almost knocked you over, their lips immediately all pressing against your neck and chin.

You end up having to sit them down and scold them, but from then on it seems like a switch has been flipped inside stereotypical Ken and pompadour Ken.

Their competitions start becoming steamier, from kissing, to make outs, to full body massages. You aren’t complaining of course. It’s horrible for your ego, having two hot guys rubbing you all over and competing to see who can make the best hickey on your chest.

You almost get a nosebleed when you come home from work one day to see them both on speedos, comparing their bodies in front of a full body mirror you didn’t even know you owned.

You get lightheaded from how much blood is rushing downwards as they grope and squeeze each other, grumbling half compliments-half insults at each other. It ends up with you just leaning against the doorway and watching for a bit, because how can you not.

They both also seem so taken with you, especially when you come home from work, especially if you do a blue-collar job. It seems to tickle some kinda manliness nerve inside them, as they both seem so obsessed with your uniform or how rough your hands are.

Its kinda nice honestly, coming home to two attractive guys who are so excited to see you and please you in one way or another. It did catch you off guard the first time they scrambled into your lap, one on each thigh, Pompadour Ken stating you needed them to help figure out who the best kisser was.

Of course, you never ended up giving them a solid answer, which they quickly forgot, as both Kens seemed to become almost mindless and weak in the knees from just kissing alone.

When they first gain genitals, you bet your ass they’re comparing size, girth, hairs, anything. They would want your opinion too. You, being a bit of a tease, would go down on them and leave them both whining and whimpering as you suck them off.

The experience feels like some kind of awakening for them both, and you swear they’re gonna start throwing hands on who gets to go down on your first. You’ll have to remind them they can both go first, maybe by wording it like a competition.

It ends up extremely sloppy and with little finesse or skill, but by God are they enthusiastic. Two mouths on you at once, both looking up at you with those begging eyes of their, trying their damnest to make you cum.

After making you cum, both stereotypical Ken and pompadour Ken seem even more energized. You can expect to get head at least once a day from then on, some days even twice, as they don’t wanna share every time. I pray for you.

They become fiends are they get a hang of the internet, saying all kinds of dirty things to you and wanting to try so many different things. Stereotypical Ken would definitely want to ride you, and I can see pompadour Ken wanting you to eat him out till he’s crying into the pillow and shaking.

Its like having two dogs in heat running around sometimes, they’re gonna have to learn how to help each other, because you can in no way keep up, especially when their rivalry kicks up a notch like it does sometimes.

To have mercy on yourself and your body, you end up able to convince them that you can sit back and watch, and then pick a winner from there. They would still want you involved sometimes, or most times for that matter, since they are sure you can judge it better that way.

At some point you have to be careful when you have visitors over, as both Kens just take to walking around in the nude, because why cover up when they wanna show off to you?

They are both so beautiful in very way that you don’t mind most days, but you don’t wanna have someone over and then see the two of them making out on the couch, trying to settle who the best kisser is for the fourth time this week.

You still love them, even though they leave you feeling like a juice box with all the air sucked out, or more dehydrated than after a full day working in the sun. They’re your messy competitive boys, and you’d probably allow them to get away with anything if they looked at you with those pretty eyes of theirs and pouted.

They never end up being able to settle any of their competition with you after all, but at this point the competitions just seem like a cover or habit to get in the mood or get each other riled up.

Both Kens are pretty submissive by nature, which is why they pull out their rivalry most times when they wanna do something but both feel so shy to ask you to do it with them, and you might enable them a bit too much sometimes, but you all enjoy it too much to stop.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Could you do a request based off this song

https://youtu.be/8ofCZObsnOo?si=yGD6SMOL25REbasf

Like it's bucky pov about finding the reader hiding a serious injury after a mission and passing out in the bathroom with the door locked

I need major angst then super fluffy Ending🙏

Hold On

Bucky x Y/N

Warnings: Angst. Injury. Mentions of violence. Blood. Super fluffy ending. 😉

The quinjet’s hum was steady, almost comforting, as Bucky slumped into the seat across from Y/N. His eyes were drawn to her like a magnet. She sat stiffly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, staring blankly at the wall as if lost in thought. Normally, she’d be cracking jokes with Sam or recounting some detail of the mission. Tonight, though, she was silent.

Bucky frowned.

“You okay, Doll?” he asked softly, keeping his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Y/N blinked, startled by his voice. For a second, her expression softened, the corners of her lips tugging upward in a weak smile. “Yeah, just tired.”

It wasn’t a lie, exactly, but it wasn’t the truth either.

Bucky’s frown deepened. He studied her face—the way her skin seemed paler than usual, the tightness around her eyes. His gaze dropped to her hands, noticing how her fingers twitched slightly, almost like she was fighting to keep them steady.

“You sure?” he pressed. “You don’t look—”

“I said I’m fine, Bucky.” Her tone wasn’t sharp, but it was firm enough to make him pause.

Bucky leaned back, his jaw tightening as he nodded. “Alright. If you say so.”

The rest of the ride passed in tense silence.

By the time the quinjet touched down, Y/N was the first to unbuckle and make a beeline for the exit. Bucky followed, watching her retreating figure with growing unease.

She was limping—subtle, but there. His enhanced senses caught the slight drag of her right foot, the tension in her posture as though she was bracing against pain.

Still, she didn’t say a word.

“Y/N, wait up,” he called, his long strides easily catching up with her.

She stopped but didn’t turn to face him. “I just need a shower and some sleep, Buck. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The words felt final, a wall thrown up between them. Before he could argue, she slipped inside her room and closed the door softly behind her.

Bucky stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door. A knot of worry twisted in his chest, but he forced himself to respect her space. If she wanted to talk, she’d come to him—right?

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Inside her room, Y/N leaned heavily against the door, her breaths shallow and uneven. The adrenaline that had kept her upright on the mission was gone now, leaving behind searing pain radiating from her side.

When she reached the mirror, she caught sight of herself—pale, gaunt, and shaking. Her hand trembled as she gripped the hem of her shirt, pulling it up just enough to expose the wound.

The gash was deep, running diagonally across her right side. The edges of the cut were jagged, torn by shrapnel rather than a clean blade, and blood oozed steadily from the open flesh. A makeshift bandage she'd tied during the mission was soaked through, crimson seeping into the fabric and dripping sluggishly down her side to pool on the tiled floor.

“Shit,” she hissed through clenched teeth, her head spinning. The room seemed to tilt and blur as she fumbled for the first aid kit.

She tore open a packet of antiseptic wipes, her fingers clumsy and slick with blood. When she pressed the wipe to the wound, a whimper escaped her lips, the searing pain like fire licking at her nerves.

“I can do this,” she muttered, grabbing the first aid kit from the cabinet.

Blood continued to flow, the bright red mingling with the darker, dried streaks on her skin. The sight made her stomach churn, but she bit down on her lip, determined to clean and close the wound herself.

But her body had other plans. As she reached for the bandages, her vision tunneled, black spots dancing before her eyes. The world spun violently, and her knees buckled, sending her crashing to the floor.

Her head struck the cold tiles, and for a brief moment, everything went still. Blood seeped from the wound in a slow, relentless trickle, pooling around her as her body lay limp and unmoving.

She knew she should have told Bucky, or at least let the medics on the jet take a look. But the thought of admitting she couldn’t handle it, of being a burden, made her stomach churn.

She didn’t want him to hear.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Bucky couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

He paced his own room, running a hand through his hair as his mind replayed every moment of the mission. Y/N had been reckless—throwing herself into the thick of the fight, taking risks she normally wouldn’t.

And now, the way she’d brushed him off...

He stopped, listening carefully. His enhanced hearing picked up faint sounds coming from her room—a muffled groan, the clatter of something hitting the floor.

His stomach dropped.

“Y/N?” He was at her door in seconds, knocking firmly. “Y/N, you okay in there?”

No response.

“Doll, open the door.” His voice was sharper now, edged with fear.

Still nothing.

The sound of something heavy hitting the floor was the last straw. Bucky’s heart pounded as he threw his weight against the door, the lock giving way under his strength.

What he saw made his blood run cold.

Y/N was crumpled on the bathroom floor, her shirt stained red with blood. The first aid kit lay scattered around her, its contents unused. Blood was everywhere—on her shirt, smeared across her fingers, and pooling around her side where the wound continued to bleed. It wasn’t a slow trickle anymore but a steady, terrifying flow that made his heart stop beating.

“Y/N!”

Bucky dropped to his knees beside her, his metal hand gently brushing her hair away from her face. She was pale, her breathing shallow, her lips tinged blue.

“No, no, no. Come on, Doll, keep your eyes open for me.” His voice cracked as he pressed his Vibranium hand against the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.

Her eyelids fluttered, a weak groan escaping her lips.

“Buck... don’t...,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Don’t what? Save you?” His laugh was bitter, panicked. “You’re bleeding out, and you want me to not help? What the hell were you thinking?”

Tears blurred his vision as he worked, his hands trembling. He couldn’t lose her.

“Hold on for me, okay? Just hold on.”

He grabbed his phone with his free hand, calling Sam.

“I need help. Now,” he barked into the phone, rattling off their location.

The minutes stretched into an eternity as Bucky carried Y/N from her room to the medical wing. His steps were quick but measured, careful not to jostle her more than necessary. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and her breathing was so faint it was barely perceptible.

“Stay with me, Doll,” he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with fear. “You don’t get to do this to me. You hear me?”

He reached the med bay just as Sam burst through the door, his expression shifting from confusion to horror in an instant.

“What happened?” Sam demanded, rushing to help as Bucky laid Y/N gently on the exam table.

“She hid it,” Bucky growled, his jaw clenched. “She got hurt on the mission and didn’t say a damn thing.”

Sam swore under his breath, grabbing gloves and supplies. “Alright, let’s stop the bleeding first. Get me that gauze!”

Bucky moved without thinking, his hands steady even though his mind was a storm of panic. He handed Sam what he needed, stepping back only when absolutely necessary.

As Sam worked, Bucky’s eyes never left Y/N’s face. Her lips moved weakly, forming words he couldn’t quite hear.

“Doll?” He leaned closer, his metal hand brushing against hers. “I’m right here.”

Her eyelids fluttered open just a fraction, and she looked at him through the haze of pain. “Bucky... I’m sorry.”

His chest tightened painfully. “No, don’t you dare apologize. Just focus on staying awake, okay? You can yell at me later if you want, but you’re not leaving me. Not like this.”

Hours passed before Sam finally turned to him with a relieved sigh. “She’ll be okay,” he said, clapping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She lost a lot of blood, but we got it under control. She just needs rest.”

Bucky nodded, the tension in his body easing only slightly. He sank into the chair beside Y/N’s bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he dropped his head into his hands.

Guilt gnawed at him like a living thing. How hadn’t he noticed sooner? He’d seen the way she limped, the way she avoided his gaze. He should have pushed harder, should have made her tell him the truth.

“Bucky.”

Her voice was hoarse, but it snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see her eyes open, glassy but focused on him.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, his relief palpable. He reached for her hand, holding it gently between his own.

She smiled weakly. “You look terrible.”

A choked laugh escaped him, half amusement, half tears. “You’re one to talk, Doll. Scared the hell out of me.”

Her smile faded as her gaze dropped to their intertwined hands. “I didn’t want to worry you. Or the team.”

“Worry me?” His voice rose, but he quickly softened it when she flinched. “Y/N, you almost died. Do you have any idea what that would’ve done to me?”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned her head away. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Bucky’s heart broke at the words. He cupped her face gently, turning her to look at him.

“You could never be a burden,” he said firmly. “You’re my world, Doll. I need you to promise me something—no more hiding. No matter how bad it is, you tell me. Okay?”

Her tears spilled over as she nodded. “Okay.”

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The following days were a blur of soft words and quiet moments. Bucky barely left Y/N’s side, fussing over her despite her protests.

“Bucky, I’m fine,” she insisted as he hovered, adjusting the pillows around her for the third time that day.

“Humor me,” he said with a small smile, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

Y/N sighed, but the soft smile tugging at her lips betrayed her protests. “You’re hovering, you know that?” she teased, though her voice was still a little raspy.

“Damn right I’m hovering,” he shot back, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “I almost lost you, Doll. I’m entitled to a little hovering.”

She tilted her head, her eyes softening as she studied him. The crease between his brows hadn’t quite smoothed out, and there was still a flicker of worry in his blue eyes. “You look more stressed than I do,” she murmured.

“Well, you gave me a few new gray hairs,” he quipped, though his smile widened.

Y/N reached up, resting her hand against his cheek. “I’m okay, Buck. You don’t have to keep treating me like I’m made of glass.”

His gaze softened, and he leaned into her touch. “You’re not made of glass, but you’re my Doll. And I don’t care how strong you are—I’m always gonna take care of you.”

The words hung between them, warm and reassuring. Y/N chuckled, her voice light but affectionate. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”

“That’s right,” he said, his tone mock-stern. “Now, lay back and let me spoil you a little. I’ll even make you soup later—though I make no promises it’ll taste like Sam’s.”

She laughed, a sound that made his chest ache in the best way. “If it’s terrible, I’ll let you know,” she teased.

Bucky’s lips twitched into a grin as he leaned down to kiss her forehead again, lingering just a moment longer this time. “You’d better,” he murmured. “Wouldn’t want you hiding anything from me ever again.”

Y/N nodded, her smile softening. “No more hiding. I promise.”

“Good,” he said, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders. “Now, get some rest, Kitten. You’ve got a whole lot of recovery ahead, and I’m not letting you skip a single step.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, a contented sigh escaping her lips. For the first time in days, the weight of guilt and worry lifted, replaced by a warm, comforting certainty. With Bucky beside her, she knew she’d be 

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

As she recovered, the weight of what happened began to lift, replaced by something lighter, something hopeful.

One evening, as they sat curled up on the couch, Y/N rested her head on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I don’t deserve you,” she murmured, her voice tinged with emotion.

Bucky wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. “You deserve the world, Doll. And I’m gonna spend all of my life proving it to you.”

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Hi anonymous reader! I found this really interesting to write because I have a Bucky playlist (Yes, I’m that obsessed) and this song is on it! So, I hope you think this captured the vibe like I thought it did, and enjoy. 🫶

Requests Open!