#please let me know if you want to hear more I could go on for hours

[tonycries]

Madam.

Synopsis. Your clan leader husband only wants one thing - an heir.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! JJK men, BRÉEDING, creampíes, talks of heirs, they’re REALLY pússydrúnk, cúmplay, exhibítionism (Geto, Gojo), the elders, use of “ma’am” and “madam”, overstím, making him shoot BLANKS, matíng presses, chokíng, true form Sukuna, dp, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. If this doesn’t post I’m living up to my username.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Madam Zenin

“Please-” Toji’s panting out in ragged heavals, teeth sinking into any raw inch of unclaimed skin down the tender column of your neck. “Please- t-take-”

And he can’t even finish his sentence, can’t even finish his staggering gasp when his toned hips thwack like he was going painfully out of control.

With a leering groan, his strong arm slams! down to grasp desperately onto the headboard overhead, mouth dipping thoroughly drunkenly to press wet peck after peck onto your lips. 

“Oh- oh-” He thumbs urgently down the side of your bulging folds to coat each and every one of his thick digits in a sheeny gloss of white. Eyes drooping half-shut when he’s popping those sopping wet fingers into his mouth. Tasting. “Oh, look at that- s’like she’s jus’ begging f’me to hngh- fill her up all over again, ma.”

“T-Toji–” Your nails claw angry red pathways down his flexing deltoids, in a way that Toji would let only you do. “Don’t know if a-anymore will fit-”

“B-but aren’t ya gonna give me an ah- heir, madam?”

With a roughened grunt, he’s jostling your limp legs to lock up even tighter around his neck, the sloppiest mating press he’d even manhandled you into. Baring such a feral grin that makes you realize within your heady mind that neither of you just might be making it out of tonight alive. 

You don’t even know how it started - didn’t have a clue. One minute you’re at another stuffy clan gathering, speaking with a few other clan leaders from across the country; and the next, Toji’s all but dragging you towards the closest bedroom in your estate. 

Rotund knees slipping and sliding across that ever-growingly sticky pool of seed dawning on the silken blankets. 

But Toji can’t even bring himself to be disgusted, no, he wants more.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck s’too deep- hngh-”

“No-” he chokes out throatily. “S’not deep enough.”

Shakily, he’s splaying out his greedy fingers about halfway across your stomach, swiping across for that familiar nudge where he can feel his swollen tip glide wet gushes of swelteringly hot precum across your bruised g-spot. Where he was knocking into your very womb-

“There.”  And without any warning, he’s pressing down - hard. Mean mouth dropping softly in awe at those saccharine sweet dredges of his cum drooling down your thighs, drip drip dripping in thick ribbons to paint a creamy ring around his reddened base. “N-now ya have space, dontcha, doll?”

One of his calloused palms slides down to attach to your squirming waist. “Don’t- don’t run away, ma—” And you swear you could hear his rumbling baritone crack ever-so-slightly at the very end of his words. Hips sloppying up the very insides of your thighs with every harsh smack! “Haven’t f-filled up this cute cunt all the way yet- ah h-haven’t oh- fucked a baby into ya.”

The rounded edges of his digits swirl in such a sultry way around your soppingly wet clit, leaving tiny swats! that make the puddle of cum and your sweet, sweet slick splatter.  “S-see, so much of it gone to ah- waste. How am I s-s’pposed to show off to those fuckers who my pretty hngh- wife is. The pretty momma of my heirs–?”

Your bleary eyes snap open, a broken whine on the very edge of your heavy tongue. “S-so this is what s’all about- you were j-”

But his rummaging thrusts are too much. Inch after girthy inch being fed into your drooling pussy, you could feel his voluminous loads of cum sloshing around your gummy walls. Clinging to you so syrupy - and Toji couldn’t stop.

He didn’t even know if he could cum again, whether it was possible. But fuck, if he wasn’t going to try.

Dark brows scrunching together in ecstasy, strands of his soft hair sticking to his sweat-simmered forehead. His body hunches over with such a sensitive gasp, skin burning when he’s feeling his fat, cum-filled balls squeeze. Once. Twice. 

Driving him mad.

“Y-yeah so what-” he’s grumbling out gutturally, and his eyes roll to the very back of his head. “Shit, hate those m-meetings. Hate those no-good bastards.” Teeth tugging on your wobbly bottom lip, “-so what if I wan’ show off- to have you so round and- and glowing that they know what I did, ma?”

The thought is enough for him to bark out a drunken bout of laughter. Humorless. Sleazy. Over and over where he’s rummaging at your melty insides. “They’ll know they’ll know- oh, th-they’ll know how I made ya mine.” Smearing a wet glide of seed down your throbbingly neglected clit. “How I hngh- f-fucked a baby into ya. How s’me that filled ya up- all me-”

And it’s just about all it takes for you to cum - for him to cum.

But Toji’s so fucking hypnotized by your heavenly pussy that he barely even realizes at first. Just letting his entire hulking body shudder with a trail of violent shivers, bowing enough to graze that raised scar of his positioned on his lips against yours. Soft. “Gonna be the clan momma- hngh- clan ah-”

Scratching back and forth back and forth back and forth- while he’s cumming blanks.

Angry, sobbing divot at the very end of his length shooting out wispy little beads of white. Again. And again. 

You’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Toji- Toji might just be seeing heaven. With you right there, his pretty angel.

And he feels your skin underneath his sharpened canines. Biting into the crook of your neck so hard it was like he was out for blood.

“Me-” he giggles. Giggles. Shamelessly bringing forth two rude fingers to pry open your whiny mouth, “Me me me me- every other clan’s gonna see you and- hah- see me-” Punctuated with drippingly wet ruts of his hips, not even thrusts anymore. He didn’t have the sanity. And he spits a wad of honeyed saliva right onto your taste-buds, “-because you’re mine, aren’t ya, madam?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Madam Nanami

Nanami thinks he might just be drunk - hypnotized - anything and everything that’s keeping him from paying attention to the important clan meeting currently at hand.

And of course, it was utterly your fault.

“My love…” Nanami’s deepened voice hums lowly in your ear from behind. His thick fingers curl roughly around your waist, holding your shifting hips in place. “We’re at a meeting.”

You’re batting your lashes as the haughty elders speaking over each other, sounding so utterly unapologetic when you leer smugly up at your husband. “What? M’jus’ getting-” And he can only suck in a shudderingly sharp gust of air when you grind your ass down even harder on his lap, dragging your sodden panties up to where he was rock-hard. “-comfortable, Ken.”

Over and over. Your puffed-up pussy lips positioned just above his fat, weepy head.

It’s been like this for too long now. And Nanami could feel his sanity dancing away, he could feel it building up within him. He was going to-

His drunkenly half-lidded eyes veer down at you, and you catch the way that his stern jaw clenches. Gritting through clenched teeth, “You’re going to be in trouble, ma’am.”

“So what?”

SLAM!

And it’s like Nanami couldn’t stand up fast enough, couldn’t shove your pretty body down onto the cool mahogany urgently enough. One hand of his long fingers curled around your throat, the other flicking towards the door, “All of you out. Now.”

Not even bothering to look towards whether or not they’d scrambled towards the door before your seepingly soaked panties are pulled just enough to the side. 

He grunts, “Pretty–”

Barely even a split-second later before you’re being stuffed with inch after veined inch of Nanami’s girthy cock. He’s letting his head fall backwards, a leering dribble of drool placing down the corner of his lips already, toned hips snapping forwards at the clingy push and pull of your slobbering cunt. 

And it feel so unfairly good when he sinks in with a few ragged breaths, so unfairly heavenly-

“Spit.” Nanami’s choking out, mouth falling slack, sculpted front pressed down bruisingly at your back. Keeping you stuck pinned underneath nothing but him and his mercilessly pressurized jackhammers. And you do - saccharine sweet saliva hitting his tongue- “Fuck fuck fuck, you feel s-so-”

And the clan leader can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed, can’t do anything but slur out a staggered mantra of your name over and over when that’s all it takes for him to cum. 

Voice lilting up to a pathetic pitch, every wavering gush of seed having his head lolling. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, he heaves. 

Far from finished.

“Can’t- can’t believe I-” The back of one of his thumbs comes to dredge up the gleaming white sheen of cum, and he’s going wild with the honeyed taste on his tongue as soon as he’s sucking. “Oh, were ya th-this wet throughout the entire ah- meeting, my love?”

You shiver at the way his still-fattened cockhead was nudging you open, the stretch so maddening. Your cunt so tight. “M-maybe-”

Smack!

And it’s like he’s thoroughly drunk on your pussy already when his soft palm splays out across the sting on your ass, gushing out in another sticky ribbon of seed down your g-spot. And another. He couldn’t stop- You can feel it swiveling slowly around your elastic walls. 

Fuck, just your tone makes his hefty balls squeeze, so tight and painful with every stingingly wet thwack! thwack! thwack! against your cunt.

He hauls you upwards like some ragdoll with the vice-like grip around your throat. “Th-tha’s not ‘nough, darling-” he’s purring, nosing down your neck. “The m-madam’s gotta use her ngh- big girl words, no?”

You feel those tufts of blond scratch teasingly against the fat of your ass, rummaging the swollen length of his cock down every nook and cranny he could reach - every single one. Thump thump thumping! furiously against all of your tenderized sweetened spots. “C’mon now- tell me. Tell me what ya want so badly.”

“P-please-” Your mouth slacks in awe, “Want you to cum inside- to bre-”

Because Nanami Kento would give his madam anything. Anything. 

Even if that has him pummeling his achingly hard cock into your even further, deftly covering your mouth with one of his palms. He’s huffing out in a feverish puff against your ear, “Mhm- did s-so well- now let your hngh- husband take care of it now, honey-” Kissing down the side of your forehead, he hikes up one muscular thigh to drivel his cock into you sloppier. Wrenching out loud squelches. “-let’s hear what this p-pretty pussy has to say now- let’s let’s hear-”

He was out of control. 

Oh, he’s like a broken record, fighting with every shred of will left in his hunched-over body to stop his babbling mouth.

Pressing gentle kiss after kiss all over your face, fingers at your neck tightening. While his hips were rattling off the most mean crashes into your g-spot. 

“I think–she’s saying-” Nanami’s dark groan sends shivers down your spine, hissing through his bared canines when your back arches even sluttier. Jostling at the perfect angle for him to pool the trail of milky cum dribbling from your soppingly wet lips onto two pads of his fingers, a glistening gloss all the way down to his wrist. And, this time, he’s plugging the creamy wads back into your overly stuffed cunt. Bullying. Stretching. “-that…”

Shit, he was going to cum again. 

You felt too good. And he swears he’s going to marry you all over again.

“Wh-what-” you’re crying. Begging. Knees weakening to such an extent that your husband was gladly supporting your full body weight with one big beefy arm wrapped snugly around your waist. “-tell me, K-Ken-”

Ah, he truly was nothing against you.

He rasps in a low whisper against your ear, “-that I wanna make ya a pretty momma, my love.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Madam Geto

“Easy, girl, easy–” Geto’s silken purr made your thighs just quiver, gasps stuttering in your throat. “You could think of it as jus’ you n’ me.”

And he’s batting his dewy lashes down at you - his wife - shit, just thinking of the word was enough to have his cock twitch animalistically inside the very depths of your snug cunt. 

Glissading his soft palms underneath your thighs to spread them even shamefully wider, making you keen at the utterly mean way he was folding you into a full nelson - all for them to see through the bed’s half-opaque curtains. The elders. The council. His pearly white teeth sink into your ear lobe, eyes drooping more and more close-lidded with every one of your squelching clenches. “Or…we could give ‘em a show?”

Ah, truly, this was Geto’s least favorite part of the marriage initiation - being watched on your wedding night. Or, at least, it was. 

He feels drunk on your pretty pussy already when he’s rutting up in mindless, languid drags of his hefty cock down your velvety walls. Filing up every free inch of space inside your snug cunt with his swollen cock - every free inch. 

You’re sputtering out at his ragged pace, squirming down sultry gyrations against his defined hips. “W-wan’ to give them a show, Sugu-”

And oh that was enough to have your all-new husband’s eyes rolling to the back of his head, to have his humorless bout of laughter ring in your ear. Dangerous. “The new madam’s gonna be the death of me, g-gorgeous-”

He was already planting pound after pound on all your most tender spots, fucking away like he was addicted to the lewd smack of skin-on-skin. Loud enough to drown out those low mutters from around the bed. About to lose it if he couldn’t feel the smoothened drag of your elastic walls massaging down his veins for just a second-

“Really wanna give ‘em a hngh- sh-show?” Geto’s echoing against your ear, still in utter disbelief at those filthy, filthy words spilling from your sweet mouth. Slender fingers glide across to your puffy clit, pinching. “Then how about–” Fucking heaving for air, scrambling to prattle out coherently, “-ya show ‘em jus’ how the next Geto heir is made.”

His hips are stuttering up at an almost inhuman pace, long locks splaying out into those plush pillows. Shit, the only thing keeping his head still held up was the sight of you down below.

The way your ravaged pussy lips were bulging around his fat girth, struggling to take him entirely even after so long. But swallowing and swallowing so greedily that it made his throat dry, eyes blinking open desperately to catch the way his twitchy balls smacked your drooling cunt. 

“The next h-heir?” The words are just now registering, and just about all you can do right now is let your head loll backwards to graze a wet kiss along Geto’s blooming pink lips. “M’gonna make ya a d-daddy?”

Fuck- he rams his hips up thoroughly. Stuffing you full of so many of his staggering, solid inches that you’re being fucked stupid. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Geto pants out, and you feel his curvaceous pecs heave up and down with each of his ragged breaths. “-g-gonna let me make you a pretty hah- momma, aren’t ya?” Craning his arm around to press onto your womb, smear his palms through every inch of skin he could reach. “Let me f-fill ya up? Have you all hngh round n’ glowing f’me? Pretty- gonna be s-so so pretty–”

God, his voice was so hypnotic. 

But no one was thrown into a more feverish desperation than Geto himself.

He’s letting plaster a pussydrunken grin at the stares around your sweat-slicked bodies - some wide, some downturned, all shocked at just how completely he was ruining you. 

Ruining himself. 

Because soon enough shaky babbles are wrenching out from his lips, unsteady. Needy. “Makes me wanna m-marry ya I swear-” 

Planting his two feet flat on the bouncy mattress to ram his weepy cockhead in rummaging swipes even faster, head whirling at every gushing clench. He leaves teary, overstimulated kisses down the side of your face. “-make you my hngh- wife- my madam. Make you the m-mother of my heir.”

You’re giggling, barely-lucid yourself. “M’already your ah- wife, Sugu–”

Fuck-

He didn’t think those would be the very words to send him over the edge - hell, he didn’t think his orgasm would be crashing into him this hard, either. Good, it felt too good.

Because you melty walls mold around him so tightly that Geto whines at how difficult it was for him to be spearheading his fat cock into your gooey insides. So cozy - and then you’re gushing.

Making his overworked, achy mouth fall in awe at the sheer way your dripping cunt was coating him in seeping wet waves of your juices. Glossing him in a translucent sheen - so fucking heavenly that he almost doesn’t realize that he’s cumming. 

Pouring out thick stringy wads of his seed that french kisses the very bottom of your pussy. There’s so much of it that Geto can feel his swollen balls jolt, a swirling coat of cum creaming down his shaft. 

Oozing out slowly, in a way that makes his mouth water, “You’re right–” he breathes. So quiet, so broken that it takes a second for your ringing ears to hear him. He chuckles, “-so now m’only b-behind on givin’ you my ah- heir.”

In a split-second, his powerful reflexes are pinning your back flat against the soft mattress, puffing out all the air out of your lungs with just how greedily he was shoving you. Your legs thrown over his shoulders, sliding at the perspiration, his cock smack! smack! smacking right on your clit. 

Geto tilts his head towards your initiation audience, grinning. “Better keep yer heads down while I f-fuck the future mother of my ah- kids. Or I’ll kill ya.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Madam Kamo

“F-fuuuuck-” Choso really can’t help the way that his rawly red lips fall slack, he really can’t help the way his eyes droop even more pussydrunkenly lower. On his knees. Tongue lolling out to drag roughly across your sopping wet folds. “Might jus’ be addicted, baby—”

Your fingers thread even tighter into this long, sweat-dampened strands of hair. Tugging, pulling - but no amount of force could ever stop Choso Kamo from French-kissing his way to your clit. 

“Ch-Cho you have to be oh-” you’re cut off with a sudden surging moan. Frantically covering your mouth with your free hand when he wraps his lips around your sensitive nub and sucks. “-t-to be quiet. We’re gonna get caught.”

That tiny inkling of rationality in Choso’s syrupy mind knows that maybe the chambers of his childhood estate wasn’t the best of places to utterly ravage you. 

Knows that maybe - just maybe - he should tone down those honeyed squelches being reeled from your sopping wet cunt. Push back the rasping ah! ah! ah! resounding at the back of his throat, if he didn’t want to be caught by the rest of the Kamo clan.

But oh, you just tasted so good-

“C-can’t help it, baby–” the clan leader’s whining, teary lashes fluttering up at you. Shoving you weakly standing against the wall, pouty mouth twisting into a delirious smile, “-why did you have to g-go n’ act all motherly with hngh- Yuji.”

Shit, those drawling words almost hurt Choso to be able to wrench out. They threw his mind into such a syrupy state, and had his swollen, achy cock twitch with another ribbony ooze of translucent precum. Drip! drip! dripping through his yukata and onto the tatami floor. 

With a pathetically broken whimper, he’s gripping on tight to the fattened hilt of his shaft. Hissing at the stark coldness against his swelteringly hot length, “Shouldn’t h-have done that oh- shouldn’t have-”

He was addicted. 

Burying himself in so deep that Choso doesn’t even need air right now. Nose meshing against the very top of your drooling pussy lips, chin grinding against you with each trail of his scorching hot tongue back and forth back and forth back and-

“Sh-shit, Cho-” you’re gasping, back arching in such a slutty bow. “-that i-is what this is all about?” 

It was. But right now he couldn’t even think of describing exactly what those tiny, domestic gestures did to him. How it’d awoken such a deep, primal part of himself. 

So instead, he’s jostling one of your weakening thighs up onto his broad shoulder. Roughly attaching the pads of his fingers onto your wrist, tongue only growing more hypnotically hungry. “Love you-” he spits into your pussy. Wet, sopping wads of spit that connect in delicate strings all the way down to the lower half of his innocently flushed face. “-love you love you, my madam. Love you so-” His noble cheeks hollow around your clit,  “-much. Hgnh- love you- what a p-perfect momma you’d make, baby–”

And then suddenly your ears feel like popping when your body wracks with waves of your orgasm. Over and over you’re cumming on Choso’s pretty face and he’s loving it.

Guiding both of your trembly hands onto his head, he makes you drag your slobbering cunt all down his features - using him.

Wrist aching with just how fast he was swirling his thick thumb around his rotund head, up and down up and down.

“Yeah- yeah-” his words are hoarse little whines. Eyes half-lidded shut at the gushing waves of your saturated slick, he’s blowing sloppy kisses around your winking hole. “Use me- use me. A-anything for you, baby- please- s’more baby– my wife-” 

It practically hurts to pull away.

And your dripping pussy is left with the final vibrations of Choso’s disappointed moan- before he’s surging up unsteadily onto two feet. 

One of his massive palms resting greedily underneath the globes of your ass, hoisting you up to kiss the very edges of your swollen folds with his fat cockhead. Gliding across a see-through glisten of precum before he’s cumming.

“Fuck.” 

“Shhh, q-quiet, baby-”

Choso wrangles his fingers deftly around his thickened base, biting down hard on his lower lip when he squeezes out dripping wet load after load onto into your sloppy entrance. Fucking his hand ever-so-slightly to just milk out more and more, “C-can I put it inside, baby? Please, baby?” His babbling mouth drags against your own, not even capable of managing a kiss right now. “-wanna fill you up n’ make you allll mine, y’know? Wanna- please.”

You let out a honeyed giggle, smoothing down the big fat tears that’d started to roll their way down Choso’s eyes. “Of course, you can. No n-need to be shy, Cho.”

And you’re barely even finishing your sentence, the words only halfway registering Choso’s hazy brain before he’s plugging you full of his circular girth. “G-god jus’ being inside s’making me hngh cum again.” Streaming out whatever dredges are left of his cum-filled balls. “Please- give me an heir- please- a lil baby-”

It’s trailing down the end of your puffy slit, and Choso can’t help but gasp a sharp inhale when he’s pooling the milky dribble on his fingers. “D-do you think this got you p-pregnant, baby?”

“Maybe…” you’re humming in that smug tone that does anything but wonders for his sanity. “Might hafta hah- try it out again jus’ to make sure, don’t you think, Mr. Clan leader?”

There’s a sudden clack! as he’s dropping to his knees, barely even giving you a second to realize anything before Choso’s ravenous mouth was heated on your messy cunt once more. 

Dragging his tongue across the milky outer layer, so filthy. Every pearlescent bead pooling on his tongue - and he just spits it back sloppily onto your cunt. Depraved. 

“B-be quiet f’me, baby–” he’s hushing you in a drunken soothe. “Gotta make space.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Madam of Curses

“Kuna…” Your babbles are music to the king’s ears, and he can feel his sleazy grin plastered all over his face already. “-I-I want…”

Smack!

“Now, what have I told ya, brat?” The sharpened lengths of his black fingernails brush up on your plump clit. Sukuna’s rumbling warning blooms such delicious clenches of your gummy walls around his jostling cocks, forcing him to hold back a moan, “If ya want somethin’, don’t stutter.”

Well, Ryomen Sukuna would give you the moon if you so much as glanced at it with want - stutter or not. But times like this made his swollen tips twitch to tease those irritated mewls out of you.

You’re stubbornly wrapping your trembly arms around his hulking shoulders, just barely able to wrap around his muscles. Glassy eyes narrowing, “I want a baby, Kuna-”

Fuck, you might just have broken him. You’ve finally defeated the strongest sorcerer in history. Because those very words spilling from your pretty lips have his chest heaving with a deep inhale, his entire body bowing when his angry cocks gush excitedly inside of you. Smearing your melty walls with wave after dangerous wave of his steaming hot precum.

“Wh-what?” he’s hissing through clenched canines, devilish red eyes honing in on you as if you were his next meal. Hauling your body all the way down those silken sheets, until he’s spearheading his rotund tips right into your cervix. “Don’t talk outta ya pussy, woman.”

“B-but it’s true-” you’re sobbing at this point. Batting your lashes at him in a way that he knew you were pulling out your dirtiest tricks. “-dontcha hngh- want an heir, baby?”

Heir.

Oh, fuck. Heir. 

Just the word has Sukuna’s head throwing backwards, snarling growls ripping from his strangled throat when his hefty balls clench in excitement. Just the word enough to get him to cum, but no-

“No.” His hot breath blankets your face, and before you’re able to bare him with that glossy pout of yours, Sukuna sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. Pulling. “I want two.”

And it’s like something snaps.

Because in an instant, he’s flipping the two of you over, until your snug cunt was filled to the brim with both matchingly hefty cocks. Sliding down, down, down. Sukuna’s creeping one of his large hands to your thighs, nudging them even more shamefully open.

He’s gifting the curve of your ass with a stinging swat, grinning, “If ya wan’ my heirs s-so badly then ride me for it, brat.”

And fuck, Sukuna underestimated how sheerly eager you’d be, shuffling your hand precariously onto his bulging pecs. Bouncing up and down on the rock-hard upright curve of his cocks like you were addicted to it.

God, he could feel those hoarse whimpers bubbling up into his throat. He could feel the way his heavy lids were fluttering shut every time your velvety walls constricted tightly around his girths, swirling around in wet gyrations. 

And he finds it in himself to laugh - laugh, “Oh- oh god, I shoulda done this hngh- sooner. Soo much sooner-” Running those pinkish strands hastily out of his eyesight to drink you in even better, “Woulda b-been able to see what a cockdrunk slut the madam of curses becomes f’me, isn’t that right?”

All you can do is nod pathetically, and he’s gesturing his head much the same way in a half-mocking sense. Simpering, “Mhm– really wan’ me to fuck- fill you right up-” Running down one of his palms across your abdomen, “-here, right? Want to get p-pregnant on my cocks, brat? Should jus’ said so sooner-”

Sukuna can’t stop now. He doesn’t even know when it started but right now that slurring nonsense was tumbling out of his slack-jawed mouth faster than he could register it. 

Rutting his hips up like an animal to plant pound after pound into your already battered insides, rummaging around his fat cocks. 

One of his mean thumbs comes up to massage over that inflationary little bump where he could feel himself spearheading into your g-spot and your cervix. At the same time. “Jus’ like this, heh- j-jus’ like this but yer gonna be ngh- so much rounder, s-so much-” And one of his globular divots weep a stream of milky precum. So close. “-fuller. Gonna give me t-two, huh? Two brats- a girl and a boy.”

Milking himself for all that he’s worth, it’s impossible not to get absolutely hypnotized by the sultry grinds of your hips.

It’s all that he can think about right now.

Sukuna feels his tongue loll out - both of them, much larger one veering from that slit on his stomach to drag sloppy stripes up the areas of your puffed up clit. Rolling over the very peak, “Ngh- gonna have y-your pretty eyes n’ my hair. My strength and fuuuuck- so tight- your smile.” His eyes clench droopingly closed, glaring up at you lovingly. “Isn’t that right, my queen?”

And when you cum, it’s with those same eyes on you - and when he does, shit, they’re rolling to the back of his head.

Decadently royal bed creaking with protest at the aggressive crushes of your sweat-sheened bodies. Sukuna couldn’t get enough when one of his angrily rugged cocks cums, the swirling slosh of his warm seed spurring the other to burst just as much.

“Sh-shit-” you’re gasping, toes curling with the explosion of bliss. Peak after peak being fucked out when your shaky knees firm to ride Sukuna out of his mind. “So much- too much- fuck fuck fuck-”

He’s stirring your insides until you’re overspilling, flashes of white-hot pleasure melding with the steady stream of Sukuna’s voluminous cum seeping from your wet slit. 

So much of it that he really can’t help but swipe his larger tongue easily across the absolute mess of a puddle. And you swear you hear his voice crack, “Heh, guess ya r-really were talking outta ya ngh- pussy, huh, woman?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Madam Gojo

“Let them see-” Gojo’s panting, fingers so jittery where he’s pushing your trembly leg apart. Abs rippling and aching with just how long he’s been wracking his fatigued body. He’s kissing hungrily at your lips, “Let them- let them see- fuck I don’t care don’t-”

And Gojo can’t even bear to think about finishing his sentence before he’s being hit with another vicious clench of his sensitive balls. Heaving out another burst of stars behind his eyes. He throws his head back, teeth grit when his angry cockhead spazzes with another dry orgasm. 

You’re blinking back the tears in your eyes, reaching up and arm to wipe away his own. “S-s’okay, Toru- we’ve been at this for hngh- hours.”

“No-” Gojo gasps, snowy brows knitting together furiously. And he’s shaking his head like he’s trying to wash away any thoughts of stopping. Because Gojo Satoru didn’t want to stop. Didn’t know if he could stop. 

His bleary eyes focus on the circle of elders standing stock-still at the very end of the traditional tatami room, heads bowed so low that they touched the floor. 

“I’ve got s-somethin’ to prove-” And another one of his harsh French-kisses into your very bruised cervix sends a gush of his stringy cum glossing down your inner thighs. Slipping and smearing everywhere when Gojo messily dances his fingers up to roll over your puffed-up clit. “-got to show ‘em. T-talking about fuck- my wife n’ my h-heir. Gonna show them-”

And you’ve never seen him this furious, blazing eyes driving down your body. Seeping into every one of his lewd movements when he’s drilling his swollen cock into your dripping cunt even more riotously. 

No care or concern for the marks he’s sure to leave for the next week at least - his curvaceous balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, fingers everywhere and anywhere on any bit of skin that his ravenous self could reach.

Gojo couldn’t get enough.

Your pussy lips like velvet, swallowing him up inch by solid inch so greedily despite however long it’s been by now. An hour? Two hours? Five? Fuck, he doesn’t even know right now. Doesn’t care. 

Doesn’t care what those shuffling elders have to think, either.

Can’t even imagine thinking about anything but stuffing your tight channel overly full, eyeing down with his hazy gaze at the way that makes his seed salivate out of you. He twists his deft fingers on your clit, it’s enough for your teeth to just sink into the tender junction at his throat. 

And it makes him cum.

Sensitively. Depravedly. 

Over and over in dry grinds of his hips, while his overstimulated head wrenches out nothing but wispy little beads of pearling white. 

“A-again?” you’re gasping. Eyes blowing wide and resting on Gojo’s fucked-out face - oh how pretty the clan leader looked. With his innocently rosy blush, and eyes drooping so low it’s like they were almost shut, mouth pecking syrupy glides across yours. “Did you just ah- c-cum again, Toru?”

He shutters his head into your throat, darting out his tongue to run down that rapidly thumping pulse of yours. “Yes, madam. Your pretty pussy’s got me s-so fuck- hooked. Can’t s-stop-”

But he wanted to cum again. Properly, this time.

To fill you up over and over, adding another layer to the sloppy skin of creamy white that already stuck to your cunt. He was going to make those old gossips pay for having your name in their filthy mouths, for implying that their leader doesn’t fuck you properly if you haven’t had an heir by now. 

He was simply going to show it to them.

“Need- ah- need you to cum f’me a-again, sweetheart-” Gojo’s babbling out the words, but his greedy eyes are locked on the sinful sight of your cunt, instead. “C-can you do that? Can the future m-mother of my kids do that?” It pains him to be slurring these out over your pretty keens, and he’s swiping a finger over and over on your clit as a tiny apology. “C’mon now, n-need to give me an mmpf- heir, right?”

You nod, hips arching up to make you feel like such a slut. “W-want it so badly–”

“I know, honey, I know–” his words come out in raw whimpers, cupping your face with his free hand to connect your foreheads together. “Which is wh-why you’ve gotta shit- cum, right? They say you don’t get p-pregnant if the hah- mother doesn’t cum, hm? C’mon baby, gimme an heir- please, please, please let me breed you f-full-”

It’s just about all the garbled mess he’s able to get out of his mouth before Gojo’s reeling you headfirst towards your nth orgasm of the night. Waves of pleasure making you convulse underneath him, forcing his big beefy arms to wrap around your waist to get you to stop moving-

“Shit-” he’s gasping, eyes blowing almost comically wide. “M’cumming, sweetheart- m’cumming again- fuck fuck fuck- can’t stop, can’t h-hold back.”

His drool-worthy back muscles flex when Gojo’s bending all the way down to snap you in half. And you feel his heavy hanging balls twitch once. Twice. Before flooding your tight pussy with thick, smearing loads of cum, glissading down your thighs.

Spurts of it splatter down your slit, all the way to Gojo’s wrist when he’s circling your throbbing clit to wring you even harder through your high.

“Th-there we- there we go-” he’s shuddering, bursts of his hefty gulps of cum swirling around all of your sweetened spots. Stretching out your taut walls to their limits with how much he was inflating you from the insides. And it takes everything in Gojo to stray his eyes away from his wife - from his madam. Everything in him to focus on the crowd of silent elders, “So- s’that ‘nough of an heir for you or do I hafta make another one?”

A/N. Also hugging my babygirls in the US of A extra tight tonight <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[parfaitblogs]

making the bed ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your night crumbles around you, and spencer is happy to pick up the pieces. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort  tags: established relationship. (prior) alcohol consumption. reader is semi-drunk (but sobers up). post drinking depression. healthy alcohol information/discussion 🫡 word count: 2.1k a/n: do not read too much into this for you will begin to question why i still enjoy going clubbing. (joke...) 😄 plsss tell me if u liked this or even if u didnt thank u i love uuuuuu

Alcohol is a depressant. 

You remembered the God awful lecture your boyfriend had given you when you woke up one Sunday morning with this feeling of existential dread, and nothing to pin it to. A ramble about how alcohol can temporarily increase the body's production of dopamine and serotonin when entering, causing a worse crash of both chemicals when it leaves. Leaving you, evidently, depressed and anxious after a big night. 

You knew that. 

You also knew how quick you were to seclude within your mind when you were with people. Too many drinks and not enough social interaction tended to lead to your own isolation, sitting on the outer edge of the booth, absentmindedly playing with the charm on the end of your phone. 

The room no longer spun the way it had an hour ago. You missed when it spun. When it spun, you weren't thinking about how little you had to contribute to the conversations your friends were having. You weren't tallying up how many drinks you had already drank, then falling flat when you realised you couldn't remember, and that was a thought more horrifying than knowing it was over ten. You were fun, when the room was a carousel. 

Now, it's simply overwhelming. Loud chattering from both your table, and the surrounding ones. Clinking of glasses at the bar. A sports game on the television across the room. Balls on a pool table being dispersed for the first time in a game. Dancing feet. Music. People. So many fucking people.

Your phone buzzes against the table, and you pick it up before any of your friends could turn their heads to see where the vibrations were coming from. You figured they were too drunk to conclude it was you, anyways. Or to care. 

Spencer had texted you fifteen minutes ago to check in on you, and though it wasn't long ago, you not responding immediately in a flurry of half strung together sentences and emojis was worrying for him. That was probably why his name was now lighting up your screen, a funny photo of him mid-bite of an ice cream as his contact photo, enlarged. 

You hadn't responded for no reason other than the fact that you had no will to. Which should've been a big enough red flag to yourself that you should text him, and you should ask if he can pick you up. Thankfully, he loved to prove how well he could read you, and he was calling you anyways. 

"Hi," you mumble into the phone, angling your body away from your friends, hand held up to your other ear to block out some of the noise the best you could. 

"Hi," he parrots back to you. "You okay?"

An automatic yes manifests on your tongue, but you're quick enough to keep it to yourself before you can lie to him. Instead, you let out a quiet, "No."

He seems to have expected that answer, for he leaves no silence in between your admission and his response. "What can I do to help?" He also seems to be expecting your hesitance at asking him for anything that would require him to move, because he adds, "I can pick you up. Do you want me to pick you up?"

"Yes. Please?"

"I'm already leaving," he tells you, and you can hear his shoes against the wooden floor of his apartment to confirm that. "Did something happen? Are you safe?"

"No, nothing happened. I'm safe," you reassure him. "I started feeling sick so I stopped drinking an hour ago. Now I'm just sad."

"You remember what I told you about it being a depressant?"

"Vividly," you mutter, and while it isn't meant to be funny, you hear him huff a short laugh anyways. It makes you feel a little better. 

"It's important to know," he defends. "I'm sorry I shared important information with you."

"Mm."

Your lack of a verbal response was expected, but he still hated the sound of it regardless. You heard him sigh. "I have to hang up now. I'll be there in forty minutes. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I love you."

"Love you too."

No matter how much time had passed, your head lifted every time the door — that your group was so conveniently close to — opened, letting in a rush of cool air and sobering you up with every hit of it. 

True to his word, Spencer was entering the bar after forty minutes, face scrunching up at the sudden onslaught of noises and visual stimuli. Same boat as you, only he had not a drop of alcohol in his body. At least you weren't crazy about it being overstimulating. 

"This is why I don't go to bars," he says once he's approached your booth, and you had stood up next to you, his hand finding an automatic place on your waist. 

"It's usually not this bad," you tell him, but he decides not to ask you anything else upon hearing just how exhausted your voice sounds. You're grateful for that.

The goodbye to your friends is quick, Spencer rattling off a lie about him needing you home for he had work early the next morning, and you only had one key to the apartment. Even the friends who knew that wasn't the case didn't comment on it, and you made a pointless mental note to thank them for it later. You knew you wouldn't. 

The drive home was even faster. Silence, aside from the rush of the wind from your slightly cracked window as Spencer drove, that helped the sick feeling in your stomach from the alcohol you had consumed. 

It didn't seem to help the hollowness of your chest, though.

You weren't sure if anything would, really. A chemical imbalance in your brain — even one as temporary as the deflation from being drunk — was hard to fix without medication. It would go away, yes. But then you would make the mistake of drinking once more, and you would find yourself back in this brain peeling predicament. 

You showered alone. Despite Spencer's offer to join you, and your own personal desire for him to be there with you. It didn't help your fogged mind at all, and you were exiting the bathroom feeling like you had retreated further into your bones. Every movement felt clunky, your skin a heavy coat to your skeleton, restricting your movement down to short shuffles and barely lifted arm movements. 

He was reading when you reentered your bedroom, and you've never seen him put a book and his glasses back on his bedside table faster. He looked visibly tired. Keeping himself awake a seemingly difficult struggle, that you could feel your body heading towards to as well. 

"Hey," he says as you climb into the bed, and he's very patient as you figure out what position you want your bodies in. Head on his chest, but next to him, you had decided on, and his fingers entangled into your hair.

"Hi," you mumble, staring up at the ceiling, counting brush strokes of the paint, as if it were possible to.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You huff at the phrase, tilting your head upwards so your eyes could land on him. "Do you have a penny?"

He pauses, then angles his head closer towards yours. "Okay, kiss for your thoughts?"

"That'll just distract me."

"Is that what you want?"

You should say no. Arguably the last thing you should be doing when you're sad is let intimacy with your boyfriend distract you. But then again, you're not the best advocate for healthy coping mechanisms anyways. 

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" he muses, and his lips brush against yours. Your heart flutters. 

"I don't really know what I want," you settle on telling him, honestly. "I want my brain to shut up."

His body deflates beneath you, and you feel guilt chip away up your spine at the killing of the less depressing atmosphere. 

"Sorry," you mumble.

"No. It's good. Be honest with me," he reassures you, quietly. His fingers tap at your scalp, "What's going on up here?"

"I'll cry if I try to verbalise it."

"Crying's good for you, you know," he hums.

"I'm pretty sure I still have eyeliner in my waterline. I'll just stain your sheets," you retort. 

"Yeah, probably. That's fine."

You're silent for a few moments, gathering your thoughts in your brain the best you could despite yourself, before you sit up, his hand dropping to the bed beside you.

"I just don't like being... here? Out? I don't know. I'm just really sick of being sad every time I drink. Is there something wrong with me? Did you get sad whenever you drank? Everyone else I know loves going out for drinks because they have fun and they're giggly drunks, or they're clingy drunks. And if I drink too much then I'm a fucking sad drunk, and I'm the only person I know that gets that way. I want to be normal."

He's silent your entire rant, and then some, waiting for your heaving chest to slow, having caught the few tears that slipped down your cheeks. You were grateful — you needed that time.

He reaches a hand out, and you let him tug you back down to the bed, slotting your body atop his own, just so he could see you properly. 

"To answer your question, no, I didn't get sad when I drank," he says, brushing your hair out of your face, before his hands rest on either side of your face. "But I wasn't really happy, either. I just talked more."

"You already talk a lot."

His lips twitch. "I do. Double whatever you think my worst is, and that was me drunk. Focus on the part where I said I wasn't a happy drunk, please."

"But you weren't sad. So there is something wrong with me."

"No, there's not. Alcohol is a depressant," he punctuates his words with a kiss to your nose, which you gratefully accept despite your emotions. "Are you willing to give up alcohol as a whole?" 

"My friends will think I'm boring, then."

He hesitates in his response, but ultimately settles on asking, "Do you think I'm boring because I don't drink?"

"No. Obviously not. And you have a real reason for not drinking, so—"

"—and being sad isn't a real reason to not drink?"

Taken aback by his sudden sternness, you go quiet, breath hitching within your throat. He was right, ultimately. No reason is reason enough. You knew that. 

Sensing your discomfort at his tone, he expels a breath of air and lowers his hands down to your hips. His voice drops to something a little less harsh, as he murmurs, "You are allowed to not want to drink alcohol if you don't like the way it makes you feel. If your friends think you're boring for that, then they're not worth it."

You silently nod your head, beginning to curse your emotional regulators. For while you had kept your tears at bay for the vast majority of this conversation, it seemed all it took was the gentle rubbing of circles onto your hip bones, and a fact checked piece of life advice from your boyfriend to make you cry. 

"Sorry," you sniffle, dropping your head to the crook of his neck to hide your newly tear stricken face. 

"Crying's good for you," he repeats his earlier words, and feels you nod your head. "You don't have to decide tonight. I'd encourage you not to, actually. You're technically still intoxicated."

"I'm sober," you protest, weakly. 

"Okay, honey." He's only agreeing with you to wane any further argument. "I don't think your friends will think you're boring, though, if that's any help."

"I don't think they will either."

He nods his head, and you're relaxing against him a little more. 

"Are you just trying to not be the only loser who doesn't drink?" you mumble, voice muffled by his skin.

"You've caught me."

He relishes in the laugh that leaves your lips, and he places the gentlest of kisses on the side of your head, which prompts you to lift it to look at him again. 

"You're not a loser for not drinking," you say, and his lips pull into a smile. 

He leans his head up, brushing his lips against yours, despite the mix of mint toothpaste and alcohol on your tongue. "I know. You wouldn't be either."

"I know."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[scuderiahalf]

(almost) one year with you — c.sainz

pairing. carlos sainz x strategist!norris!fem!reader

summary. your boyfriend is usually so intelligent. when he makes one of the stupidest decisions of his life to break up with you, his best friend (and your idiot brother) decides to take matters into his own hands. 4.3k, 18+

warnings. breakups = makeup sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, reader is kind of a bitch but carlos is into it

masterlist.

.

"I'm going to kick the door open."

"Please, do not do that," Carlos says from behind you.

"You think I can't?"

Smartly, Carlos chooses not to voice any further opinions.

You kick the door, more out of frustration than an actual attempt to break it open.

"I'm going to murder you when I get out of here, Lando!" you shout against the door, not really caring if your idiot brother has hung around to hear the very real threat.

You may not actually kill him (you're still debating it) but you will definitely hit him. At least five times. Maybe more. And he's not getting any of your late-night stress-baked cookies for several months. Asshole.

You kick the door again, harder. The wood bends near the bottom from the impact, rattling in the doorframe but otherwise unmoving. Your groan turns into a yell of frustration, punctuated by you hitting the still closed door with both hands. You seriously cannot believe Lando would do this.

"Are you finished?"

Carlos sounds almost amused.

If he hadn't been literally thrown into the room by not just Lando but Max and Alex as well, you might think he's in on this whole scheme. Instead, you just glare at him, irritated that he's so calm while you're both being held against your will.

"Is being made to be near me that horrible?" Carlos says.

"Oh, fuck off."

"You are acting as if they will not have to let us out eventually."

"How long is that going to take? Huh? I don't want to be locked in here for hours. It's actually FUCKING RIDICULOUS!"

You're shouting at the door again, hoping your dumbass brother and his stupid fucking friends can hear.

They all better be prepared for the consequences. There's no one better at holding a grudge than you.

You never should have trusted Lando when he had insisted you come to Charles Leclerc’s dumb yacht party. He never wants to be seen in public with you much less all but beg you to attend a party with all his friends who are so much cooler than you because he's an F1 driver and all his friends are, too, and you're just a strategist.

(You never thought that being a trackside strategist at Scuderia Ferrari would be preceded by "just" as though it isn't an impressive feat but with a brother like Lando Norris, nothing you do ever really seems to measure up. You're the reason Lando ever got into racing or F1 in the first place. So really, this is your own fault.)

You give up harassing the door (it locks from the inside so there must be something blocking it in the hallway) and start searching the room for another way out. It's a bedroom, and you're choosing to assume that it just happened to be the easiest place to trap you both and not a purposeful nudge to something untoward. Lando isn't that crude. You think.

After this little stunt, you don't think he deserves the benefit of the doubt.

You start checking all the drawers to see if there's anything useful. You don't actually know what you're looking for. Maybe like a fire axe or a hand saw so you can brute force your way out of here.

"We could talk," Carlos proposes.

"And give Lando what he wants? No, thank you."

"You are so proud. Can we not talk this out?"

"What's there to talk out, Carlos? You dumped me, remember?"

That shuts him up.

You refuse to look at him. Even with your back to him as you search through a completely empty dresser, you can feel the look on his face. Full lips pouting, big brown cow eyes all sad and pitiful. You'd fold like a cheap suit if you saw his pretty eyes right now and you're trying really hard to stay strong and hang onto your anger so you won't give in.

There's nothing in any of the dresser drawers. The nightstands are fruitless, too. The wardrobe houses only empty hangers, and not even the cheap wire ones that could be bent into something useful like a weapon to kill yourself with if things get any more tense in this tiny room.

"I regret it," he says.

You close the wardrobe with a heavy breath.

"I regretted it as soon as I said we should end it."

"Cry me a river, Sainz. Build a bridge. Get over it. You don't get to call me ‘nothing but a distraction’ then tell me you regret it and expect me to forgive you just like that—fuck this. I'm going to swim to shore."

You yank the balcony door open and climb up onto one of the chairs so you can get over the railing.

"Y/N!" Carlos curses in Spanish, scrambles after you and gets an arm around you before you can actually step up onto the railing. "What are you doing?!"

"I just said! I'm going to swim to shore. Let me go!"

Carlos picks you up like a purse dog and carries you back into the room. He stands in front of the balcony door after setting you down, blocking your only escape route.

"You cannot swim to shore. We are miles out of sea!"

"If it gets me out of this room, I'd do it!"

"Can you not just talk to me?"

"No!"

"Why?!"

"Because I don't want to!"

"What are you afraid is to happen?"

"I don't have to explain myself. Especially not to you."

So, you don't explain yourself. You walk over to the couch and take a seat, arms and legs crossed, looking anywhere but at Carlos.

You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to that first date with Carlos last year. You know what you were signing up for. You knew all the judgement would be on you if/when you decided to go public. You knew Ferrari would have many things to say about your relationship, and they did, when you told them earlier in the season before it could potentially get ugly with a reveal from unsasvory sources.

You knew all of that and you went for it, anyway, because could you even call yourself a Norris if you didn't go after what you wanted? You knew what being with Carlos would bring but apparently, you were the only one.

After eleven amazing months together, Carlos got cold feet. You don't know how else to describe it. You had told your family after three months; he'd told his after just one. Everyone was happy for you. Your family loves Carlos, and the Sainz clan accepted you with open arms. You were so happy.

But as your relationship pushed a year, Carlos said you needed to talk, called you a distraction, subsequently hazardous for his line of work, and ended things.

Did you call him an emotionally stunted manchild before storming out of the cafe he asked to meet at? If you did, he surely deserved it.

A few weeks after that, you're where you are now, locked in a bedroom on a yacht while a party rages on several floors above. Carlos says he regrets breaking up with you, that he wanted to take back everything he said, but he already said it and that's how things are now.

You'll not be the girl he comes crawling back to whenever it's convenient for him. If going steady is a hazard for work, then an off again-on again situationship is definitely not OSHA-compliant. You refuse to lower yourself to being a doormat that Carlos wipes his feet on whenever he feels he has the time.

After a while of standing guard at the balcony door, Carlos makes a move to sit on the couch with you.

"No," you say.

He halts midstep.

"You can sit on the bed."

Slowly, as though giving you a chance to change your mind, Carlos sulks over to the bed and sits.

He's moving to Williams next year. He has only a handful of races left in rosso corsa. He doesn't know you're sitting on a job offer that could have you following him, a promotion to head strategist at the Oxfordshire team that you can't believe you're actually debating because of your standing with a man.

You've told no one of Williams's proposition. So, you really don't know why you open your mouth to tell Carlos of all people.

"Williams wants me as their head strategist."

He looks up, eyes bright, surprised but excited for you. "What? That is amazing."

"Yeah, I know it is," you say, glaring at him again. "I haven't accepted yet, though."

Carlos is quiet, then carefully says, "Because of me?"

"No," you say because it's just ridiculous for that to be the reason you're holding up contract negotiations, "Yes, because of you. Obviously. I don't want you thinking I'm following you. I'm not. I'm pursuing my career. So, I know that changes you being all regretful. I just want to clarify things before you hear about it from someone else.”

“Why would it change how I feel?”

“Because we’ll still be coworkers next season.”

“That changes it? What does it change?”

Carlos' accent (hot as fuck) and the way he doesn't always say things 100% correct (cute as fuck) are misleading for his actual understanding of the English language. So, you're really not sure what he's getting confused over.

He's leaving. You were supposed to be staying. No longer working together meant no distractions for him until you would meet up at a hotel after a shitty quali and he would fuck the shit out of you. Or something like that.

It'd feel good in the moment but you don't want him for just sex. You don't want casual. You don't want to be a convenient, low-maintenance, not-quite-official girlfriend. You won't do it. No matter how pretty he is.

And his plan to get you back was ruined now that you'd be moving to Williams for next season, anyway.

“I’d not be a distraction if I was staying at Ferrari. Now, we’ll both still be on the same team. Not convenient for you to still be in a toxic work environment, huh? So, you can cut the crap.”

“That has nothing to do with my regret."

"I won't be a casual fuck buddy who you can't stand to be around when it doesn't work for you."

"I never said that!"

He seems genuinely hurt by your implication but you won't fall for it, won't let it deter you.

"It's kind of implied. You know with the whole 'I have to focus on my driving' thing. Like, what the fuck were you doing for the rest of the time we were together? Nothing changed and you suddenly decided it was too much, then you want me back but I ruined that for you. You'll be seeing me next year, too, so don't even bother with the whole regret speech or whatever."

"I—," Carlos starts, then says nothing.

He can't seem to find the words.

"What? Nothing to say? You wanted to talk. Talk."

"If I am in a team with you or not," he says, slow, calculated, "It does not change that I regret what I said."

Carlos takes a second to think before continuing. That's where you two differ.

Carlos has always been incredibly intelligent. You knew he was gorgeous before you had ever met in person but his mind made him appeal even more to you when you first started working trackside last season. Long, intellectual conversations preceded him asking you out after his masterclass in Singapore.

You nearly started foaming at the mouth when he said "it's on purpose" to keeping your brother within DRS to hold off Mercedes. You were ready to jump his bones right then and there in the middle of the team celebration when he asked you to dinner before you flew back to England.

But he was a gentleman. (He didn't fuck you until after your second date, but it was a close thing that first night when you leaned over the center console to kiss him. You'd have ridden him right there in the front seat of that rental car if your idiot brother hadn't chosen then to walk by and make a scene. Kind of a mood killer.)

The two of you both found fascination in the other's way of thinking, Carlos' smooth logic and your chaotic brilliance. He is all thought and few words while you talk and talk until you find your solution.

You always found beauty in the contrast. You balance each other. Simultaneously alike and disimilar. He is someone you saw yourself building a life with. After nearly a year together, those are the kinds of thoughts you start to have about a partner.

"So, you regret it," you gather, "But do you still think I'm a distraction?"

"Of course, you are a distraction. I am in love with you. There is nothing more distracting than that."

You laugh, disbelieving. "You're in love with me but I'm distracting and you can't be with me? Why? Because you love racing more?"

"I was scared. I was stupid. I am stupid. I am."

"Self deprecation won't do you any favors. But, yeah, you are stupid. You're not making any sense."

"I was scared. You were everything I could think of. I thought I could not find a balance between you and racing. But without you, it is even worse. I want you as a distraction. I know that because I have lost you.”

“You haven’t,” you say before your brain even knows what you’re doing. “Not entirely, yet. Maybe… You’re not allowed to do this again. Ever.”

And you’re crying. Of course.

Carlos is at your side in record time, kneeling in front of you, taking immediate advantage of the crack in your defenses. “Never.”

“You can’t do shit like this. You can’t push me aside like I don’t matter. You can’t call me a distraction.”

“You are a distraction. In the best way.”

Unimpressed and wiping your tears, you say, “Wow. You’re such a poet.”

Carlos laughs thickly. “I love you.”

“Ugh, fuck off.”

You’re still wiping at your face. You didn’t cry when Carlos called it quits, refused to let him have any sort of hold over you when he pushed you aside but now, you’re crying. It’s in relief but you still feel your face getting hot from the embarrassment of it.

He knocks your hands aside to cup your cheeks. “You are the love of my life. I will do whatever it takes to fix what I broke.”

“S’not broken. Just bent. Or whatever the saying is. I don’t fucking care—just kiss me.”

Carlos’ “yes, ma’am” is muffled against your lips.

It’s only been three weeks (three and a half but who’s counting) since he last kissed you but it feels like an eternity.

It’s salty from your tears and wet, also from the tears but more from the way you let his tongue into your mouth after probably not enough time has passed. You don’t care. You just want him.

“I love you," you break the kiss to say. "Don't leave me."

"I won't."

"Say it back."

"I love you. I love you I love you I love you."

.

His words jumble between English and Spanish as he kisses down your body.

Your breath catches as he pulls your hips further down the cushion you're sat on. Stupid F1 driver muscles. You want to sink your teeth into his bicep, make him walk around with the bruise, a reminder of who he belongs to.

He slips his fingers into the waistband of your pants, looks up for permission. You lift your hips. You've missed what his big brown eyes look like when they're all dark with want.

He pulls your pants and underwear down and tosses them aside, tugging you even closer to the edge of the couch. Your legs part. He puts your knees on his shoulders then finally pushes his face between your thighs.

You let your head fall back as you sigh, probably sounding ridiculous but he's always been good at this.

He had you ride his face one time. He practically had to beg to get you to agree. There was a lot of him gripping onto you, arms wrapped around your thighs and hips to force you to stay in place. He'd kept you there until you couldn't stay upright or fight against his hold, coaxing multiple orgasms out of you with just his mouth.

Then, he'd fucked you until you came for a fifth time. (You tell a guy one time about how your last partner hadn't the patience to get more than one orgasm out of you, and he makes it his life's mission to get three or more every time you go at it. How terrible for you. Ha.)

He eats you out like a man starving, like he has something to prove. To be fair, he does but he's not going to be entirely back in your good graces just because he's helping you get off for the first time in three and a half weeks. This is just extra credit.

One of his hands finds yours. He tangles your fingers and holds your hand as he involves his free fingers in slipping past your entrance. You open up for him with obscene ease, legs falling apart even further.

He fucks you with a single finger slow, slow, slow while his tongue licks languidly at your clit.

"Carlos," you whine his name.

You don't need all the pleasure you already know he's more than capable of giving you. You just need to get off already.

"I will get you there, hermosa," he promises with a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Get there faster; I don't want my idiot brother thinking better of his insane plan and letting us out while you're nose-deep in my cunt."

Carlos huffs a laugh. You can feel the air against where you're wet. It makes you squirm.

Usually, Carlos would tell you to stay still and be patient but seems to think better of it this time. You would probably still do as he says, circumstance regardless, but he doesn't need to know that. He just presses his lips back to your pussy.

He sucks on the hardened little bundle of nerves at the joint of your labia just how he knows will make you go limp and needy. He pushes a second then a third finger into you, the stretch just that much more than you can manage with your own, smaller digits.

You could've gotten it with the neglected dildo that lives somewhere mostly forgotten in your closet. There was something that felt so final about bringing out the toy you haven't needed since that second date. Thankfully, you still don't need it. You should consider just pitching it, at this point.

You push your hand through Carlos' hair, brushing the ridiculously perfect locks off his forehead so you can watch his stupid, beautiful face as he goes down on you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby," you praise.

His dark eyes flicker up to you, exhaling against your exposed cunt and shifting his knees on the floor.

You're sure if he had a hand free, he'd be palming himself over his pants. He gets off on you getting off and praise goes straight to his dick. You've got this fantasy of making him come completely untouched but you might need to do actual research on that before it becomes a reality.

He sticks his tongue down with his fingers, lapping at your hole and spitting your wetness onto your clit just because it's hot. Like the way he's slobbering over you isn't enough to make the glide of his tongue over your clit smooth and delectable.

"Come on, baby. Don't tease. Not now."

Carlos makes this little displeased noise in the back on his throat.

Quickies aren't really in Carlos' sexual vocabulary. He occasionally likes it as rough and fast as the next dick-haver but he's more of a spread you open and make love to you for hours at a time kind of guy.

He took you to a secluded little cabana in Mallorca for a week during summer break specifically so you two could spend days on end doing nothing but loving on each other. Then, he took you to meet his family and you had to pretend like you hadn't spent the majority of the week prior with their golden child's dick or fingers or tongue inside of you.

Currently, you're just wanting to find relief without Lando or some other F1 driver walking in on you first.

"Carlos, baby—please."

Carlos likes when you play nice. When you're so desperate for it that your bossy exterior goes away. You tell yourself that you exploit this because your unending pride doesn't like the alternative that you really just are that desperate for it.

He finally starts to finger bang you properly. Combine that with the obscene slurping sounds he's making against your clit and the lack of action for nearly a month and no one could really blame you for not taking long to hit your high.

Heat curls and explodes in your gut and up your spine, back arching, lungs gasping, Carlos' name falling from your mouth as your thighs try to close around his head. He gets his elbows up to hold your legs open. His fingers keep fucking you through your orgasm. He pulls his other hand free of your grip to massage your clit with his thumb, kissing your thighs, pubes, stomach.

He captures your lips in a kiss while you're still riding it out. It's intense and leg-shaking after so long without, emotion-driven, which is the best kind but not worth it after knowing what the fear of losing him is like. You can hardly kiss him back, face pulled in pleausre, moans spilling past your lips that Carlos swallows unburdened.

You tuck your face into his shoulder as he drags it out just to the precipice of overstimulation. You tug him into you, arms around his shoulders, fingers tugging the hair at the base of his skull. He lets his fingers rest inside of you, rests that thumb against your clit so he can hold you back with one arm, at least.

You just breathe for a moment, composing yourself where he can't see your face. The worst may be over but the level of trust you'd built over months together would not be so easily reinstated. He'd have to work hard for that, much harder than a sinlge mind-blowing orgasm.

"Don't leave me," you say in a whisper. "You can't, okay?"

"I won't."

"Promise."

"I promise I will not leave you again. I am the most dumb man if I lose you another time. I will deserve it, then."

"Be smart, then. Like I know you have the capacity to be."

Carlos pulls his fingers out. He catches your shiver, still wrapped up in his one arm. He kisses your cheek before finding something to clean his hands with. You've pulled your pants back on when he's finished.

"Likelihood someone heard us?" you prompt.

"Heard you, you mean?"

You kick at him as he comes back over to you. "Watch it."

He tucks you against his side once he's sat. "Scale?"

"One to a hundred."

"90, at least."

You smack his chest. "Dick."

"You are very loud, mi amor. You talk so much, and you make such pretty noises."

"Don't insult me immediately after I've forgiven you."

You've not drawn away from him at all. In fact, you've tucked your feet up on the couch to curl into him fully.

Carlos knows this. He presses a kiss to your temple.

"I love you. I am sorry I am so stupid."

"I guess I've just got to have enough brains and beauty for the both of us."

"You have always."

You hide your smile in his chest. He holds your thigh when you put your legs across his lap. Now you've got him back, you want to be as close as physically possible. Whoever first said they want to be inside their partner's skin really gets it.

.

George Russell ends up getting sent to let you two out. Evidently, your brother fled the scene of the crime once the yacht returned to port in the early hours of the morning. He dumped the chore of opening Pandora's box on an innocnet bystander.

"I am so sorry—"

"Oh, clever," you say when you spot the poor Brit, "He sends an uninvolved party to let me out like I couldn't track him anywhere in the world. I've his trainer's phone number and Jon likes me more than him. I am going to beat his skinny little muppet ass. When I find him—"

You trip over the tangle of chairs that had been used to barricade the bedroom door from the outside.

Carlos catches your elbow.

"Amor, it is late," he says. "Sleep, first, hm?"

You relax into his hold a bit, a silent concession. It'll be easier to murder your little brother after a good night's sleep, anyway.

"So, are you two...?" George trails off.

You cut him a glare.

"Nothing. Never mind. Apologies."

He speeds around the two of you and off the boat.

"The 2019 rookies are all terrified of you."

"Good."

Carlos laughs. "I am excited to see what Alex is like with you next year."

You smile.

Next year, you'll still be working with Carlos. It'll be at a different team, a midfielder at best but at least Carlos will still be on the grid. He'll still find increasingly laughable excuses to be in engineering just to see you. He'll still come home to you, the same that you'll come home to him.

A future with Carlos is still in the cards. He'll be damned if he messes it up again, you know that much.

[leonsgfpost]

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You let your boyfriend cum inside you for the first time.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: DI!Leon (or Leon RE4) x fem!reader, creampie, unprotected sex, wild Leon, slight mention of breeding perversion.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: It's something that crossed my mind, this man has me bad 🙏🏻

Leon feels like he's in heaven, dizzy, sweaty and with his eyes closed, seeing colors. Like he's really floating, and only because he's ramming your pretty pussy with need. Her pretty pussy. His hands are on either side of your head, he only needs his body to pin you against the sweaty sheets. His lunges jolt your body enough to shake the bed.

"Look at you, my pretty girl taking it so good..." He said between breathless gasps, and you opened your clouded eyes so you could look up at him, grinning dumbly at his words. But he wasn't even looking at you, he was watching your pussy open up around his wet cock. Yeah, Leon was getting kind of nasty.

And though he loved your pussy, and every inch of you. And what you were giving him, like the time you took the condom off for the first time and let him fuck you raw. Every time he sank into you, wetly and slowly he felt alive. But he couldn't help but want more, lust for more.

Leon is a greedy man.

You had not yet given him the honor of filling your pussy, of leaving you creamy and plump inside. He would never do anything against your word, so every time he got close he would come out and cum hard on your belly or your thighs. Even though it felt good, I knew it would feel better to be able to bury his dick and let it explode inside you. But he couldn't do it, not yet.

"Lee, Leon-!" you moaned loudly, dizzy in the ecstasy of his cock exploring every delicious corner of your insides. His head slapping your cervix, his hips slapping yours until your skin was red. It was definitely Leon's favorite sight, you beneath him with a sweaty face, your tits bouncing happily and your hips rising to chase his awkwardly.

"Baby, can I-?" he asked, burying his face in your neck letting out gasps that were starting to morph into animalistic moans. From the way his voice was becoming shaky and his hips were stumbling in their rhythm, he was so close.

"Please, let me... Let me do it." Leon's pride shifted to the side, that strong man taking on nuclear monsters was no match for your pussy. He could die if you denied him the paradise between your legs. And you know it.

"What?" you asked, in the midst of overwhelming pleasure and the sensation of your orgasm beginning to form, ready to burst as easily as a bubble.

"Inside, I want to do it Inside. A baby, let's make a baby-" His words came out in babbles, in between wet kisses he planted on your neck trying to distract himself from how his cock jerked inside you, begging for the release he was holding back. And when you were as dumb as he was, it only took his fingers around your quivering clit for you to quickly agree.

"I want to hear you, I need it, I..." He whispered, moving his kisses up your jaw and keeping the motion of his fingers on your clit, listening to you moan desperately beneath him.

"C-Cum inside, I want it inside." You affirmed in that sweet tone you used only for him. Mixed with long, euphoric moans, arching your back. Your center burned around him, his onslaught creating the most lascivious sounds you'd ever heard. Those words ignited something inside him. Finally, finally his little fantasy was coming true.

He pulled away a little, grabbing the back of your thighs to lift them and let out a grunt as he felt your walls tighten further around him. He was losing his mind. His hips moving in a wild, animalistic rhythm.

"I'm going to fill you up so good, baby." It sounded like a promise, you knew he was going to do it. His blunt nails digging into your skin, trying to hold on to something as he felt his dick quivering inside your walls, closing around his length.

"Come on, come on... Come for me, I want to feel you." His husky, raw tone of pure need finally brought you to orgasm. Your velvety walls clenched around him tightly, as if you wanted to extricate his dick. His breath caught as he felt your tight grip as if you were begging to be filled silly.

But relax, that's what he was going to do.

"God, baby-ah, you're tight me so good." He murmured dropping his head back, closing his eyes and relaxing his jaw with pleasure. His hips quivered, causing his to lose his rhythm.

You would look so pretty, your swollen pussy and his cum spurting out of your hole that was a portal to paradise. The image and the feeling of your wet walls around him was what drove him to madness.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck-!" he moaned over and over, ramming with each curse until potent, strong strands of semen exploded inside you, filling you with as much eagerness as he had wanted. He never would have imagined it would feel so good, so alive. His onslaught gradually slowed to a stop, panting heavily as his cock gave you all he had to offer. His eyes lowered to your pussy, withdrawing only to glowering at his work of art. His mess.

His fingers moved down to open the swollen lips of your pussy and watch his thick cum seep out of your weeping hole. He smirked, lifting his eyes finally.

"This pretty pussy deserves another load, Honey." He stated, beginning to rub his semi-hard cock up and down your quivering slit. Little did you know that you aroused the most primal, possessive side of the man who looked at you as if he wanted to devour you.

Because, oh, Leon is a really greedy man.

Let me know if you liked it, and please ignore if you see any mistakes 🫶🏻💕

(💌) bye, bye !

[gilbertscurls]

Hiiiii, could you please write a smut about either Chris or Matt over stimulating the reader and then the reader has to use their safe word and then either Chris or Matt gives the reader lots of aftercare?????

hope you like it <3

Good for You ➵ Chris Sturniolo

warnings: short smut, overstimulation, oral sex (f!receiving), safe word (i made it pepsi bc i had no ideas lmao), crying

It was late, and the quiet of Chris’s room was interrupted only by the sound of soft breaths and murmured words. You lay on the bed, your head thrown back as Chris settled in between your thighs, seemingly insatiable. One orgasm, two, three…

Chris was attentive, his touches always searching for your comfort. But as the night went on, he kept pushing just a little more each time, his gaze locked on yours, watching the way you responded. There was a hunger in his eyes, tempered only by the care in his touch, each gentle whisper of reassurance keeping you grounded.

"Oh god, Chris…" you gasped out, your body trembling beneath him as yet another climax washed over you. You felt so sensitive now, every nerve ending alight with pleasure that bordered on pain. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, nails digging in as you tried to anchor yourself against the overwhelming sensations.

But even through the haze of ecstasy, you could sense Chris's intensity, the way his focus never wavered from your face. It made you feel seen, truly understood in a way you rarely experienced. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as a wave of emotion crashed over you.

"Please," you whispered, not quite sure what you were asking for. More of the same intense pleasure? A moment's respite from the relentless tide of feelings? Or maybe just… connection. "I don't know how much more…"

"Shh, it's okay, I've got you." Chris breathed softly, pressing a tender kiss to your inner thigh before trailing up towards where you needed him most again. He licked slowly along your slit, savoring your taste and the way you shuddered in response.

Chris's mouth sealed around your clit, sucking gently as he continued to lap at your folds. His fingers probed deeper, curling inside you to stroke that sensitive spot within. The sounds of your pleasure were music to his ears, spurring him on. He knew he should probably slow down, give you a break, but he couldn't help himself. Seeing you like this, lost in bliss, was intoxicating. And he craved more — more of your moans, more of your trembles, more of your trust. So he kept going, determined to push you to new heights, to make you forget everything except the exquisite sensation of him worshipping your body.

"That's it baby, let go," Chris coaxed breathily between long licks. "I want to hear you fall apart for me." He punctuated his words with a firm suck on your clit, making your hips buck involuntarily. "Come on, baby, give me one more." His voice was low and rough with desire, urging you onwards. He slid two fingers deep inside you, pumping steadily as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bundle of nerves. "Cum for me," he commanded, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. "Let yourself go."

But then, as he continued, you felt a shift—a hint of something overwhelming that built up inside of you, like waves crashing harder and harder. At first, you brushed it off, trying to meet his pace, but the intensity grew faster than you’d expected, making it difficult to keep up.

And suddenly, it was too much. A tightness built in your chest, and without realizing, you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

With a shaky breath, you whispered, “Pepsi.”

Chris immediately froze. The safe word you’d both chosen felt like a lifeline, and his face softened as he pulled back instantly, his gaze full of concern and care. “Hey, hey…” His voice dropped to a low, soothing tone as he met your eyes.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… a little much,” you murmured, feeling a few tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mix of release and relief.

“Don’t apologize. I’m here,” he said, gently brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. Chris reached out to softly take your hand, grounding you, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. “Let’s take a breath together, alright?”

You nodded, matching his slow, deep breaths, feeling yourself steady under his calm presence. He leaned in to press a comforting kiss to your forehead, not moving any closer, giving you space to feel and be. Slowly, the room seemed to settle, and the intensity of the moment faded into the familiar warmth of being with him.

Once you both sat up, he guided you to the bed, pulling the covers around you like a soft cocoon. He grabbed his sweatshirt from the nearby chair, slipping it over your shoulders. “Here, I know you love this one.” His small smile reassured you, his touch never hurried, always gentle.

He settled in beside you, wrapping an arm around you, and you leaned into him, feeling the heat of his chest against your cheek. “Better?” he asked softly, fingers brushing through your hair in slow, comforting strokes.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice a bit rough. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he murmured, his voice a soft anchor. “I’ve got you. You don’t need to be anyone or anything right now. Just relax.” He held you close, every gesture gentle and reassuring. A few stray tears escaped, but he just tucked you closer, his hand a steady presence on your back.

Time seemed to slow as you rested against him, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. You felt his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your shoulder and down your arm, a touch that was comforting and steady. He was humming softly now, a tune you recognized from one of your late-night playlists, and the sound wrapped around you like a blanket.

After a while, Chris leaned back slightly to meet your eyes. “Want some water or anything?” he asked.

You nodded, and he slipped out of bed, only to return a moment later with a glass. “Here, take your time.” He stayed close as you drank, watching you with that familiar, caring gaze, never pressuring, only making sure you felt safe and comfortable.

Once you settled back into bed, he tucked the blankets around you both, making sure you were warm. “How are you feeling now?” he asked, brushing a thumb across your cheek, a quiet smile in his eyes.

“Good,” you said softly, meeting his gaze. “Really good.” His presence felt like everything you needed to feel secure again, and you felt a surge of gratitude for how gently he’d held you through it all.

He gave you a soft kiss on your forehead, whispering, “I’m here. Always.”

And with that, he wrapped his arms around you again, settling in beside you, letting the peace and closeness wash over you both. The rest of the world faded away, leaving only the warmth of his arms around you, holding you close through the night.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash

[garuda4321]

Don’t worry, I’ve been told I’ll get advanced notice if the world is ending from my buddy in Poland. I’ll make sure to keep you all posted on that. Of course, he also had an interesting thing to tell me, which I will quote because I think a lot of folks need to hear this. However, saving that for a little bit later because I feel like folks could use a bit of a motivational speech (I gave my first one today focused on hope, and boy do we need it).

Here goes.

I want to start by reminding people that it’s ok to feel. Whether that’s anger, sadness, hope, happiness, or whatever else you’re feeling, it is ok to feel them. Emotions should not be suppressed. I work very hard to ensure that I am a part of a community that is not only safe, but somewhere I can call home. I am always willing to invite more people into my home, especially in times of need as feeling safe is something everyone deserves.

I know that when faced with outcomes such as these, it is considerably easier to live with a victory than a loss. This is why this I am speaking about hope, having hope. I understand that not everyone has hope right now. If you do have it, please try to share some of that hope with those that do not have it. If you do not have it, hopefully you can find some in this reblog.

I am fairly certain that everyone has had the experience when something doesn’t go their way. In the realm of Ninja (the obstacle course racing variety), this is rampant. Perhaps we fell on the first obstacle of a course, or perhaps we missed qualifying for finals by mere seconds. When this happens, we have two choices. We can either stay down and let the negativity eat away at us, or we can get back up and keep training and trying until we reach our goal.

Unfortunately, we can only do that during training. On a course, when we fail obstacle one, that’s it, we don’t get a second chance. We don’t have that choice to stay down or get back up as we can’t change the outcome. As depressing as that sounds, it’s true.

You can’t change what happened and you don’t get the choice to “get up and try it again”. But we don’t have to sit and cry, complain, or hide from it either. We don’t have to give up.

Right now, there are lots of us that are down. We have communities that we feel safe and welcome in to support us when we need them. Together, as we refuse to give up, we can do each and every thing to help better our communities. It may not be a large difference, but a difference is a difference, and a difference matters! We can leave a smile, a compliment, or even a positive message behind because if someone is having a rough day, those small actions can make a large difference for them.

I encourage you to try to bridge outside of your comfort zone and meet new people, join new communities and try to spread some positivity in the world. I did so earlier today by giving a very similar speech to this one and again now by posting an abbreviated version of it. Do your best to make a difference with all people, no matter who they are, what they look like, or what they stand for. Because we will overcome whatever is thrown our way together, and by helping those that are struggling to overcome their own obstacles. We will believe and we will have faith. We may not know who or what to believe in, but we all know that we can believe in each other.

To finish us off, that quote from my friend in Poland.

“Remember that life is a long distance race. In a few months, a lot will change. In a few years, whole world will look completely different. Don’t lose your energy and faith in being a good person. World will need good people.”

Choose to be kind, caring, compassionate, and empathetic.

I’m signing off for now, maybe I’ll return with the next one I end up giving.

[mrsbarnesblog]

cost of betrayal

masterlist

summary: after Rafe finds out the truth about you and Hollis, he comes back from Morocco, expecting you to be gone, but you refuse to leave without trying to work things out first

word count: 1.7k.

warnings: part 2 spoilers, angst and fluff, pogue reader, arguments, trust issues

a/n: i stand Sofia and Rafe, guys. need them together asap 🙏

“I think I told you to get the fuck out of my house, Y/N?” It’s the first thing you hear when Rafe walks through the front door of his house, throwing his bag on the floor and walking right past you, not even looking in your direction. You get up from the couch, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants. 

Your chest feels tight, and your eyes are still swollen and red from the amount of crying as you silently follow him to the kitchen. That one stupid decision can cost you everything, including the man you love, and for the past few days, all you have been able to do is cry and curse yourself for being so stupid. 

You stop when Rafe leans forward with his hands on the counter, his back is unusually tense, you feel anger radiating from him even from a distance and it’s all your fault, you know that. 

“We need to talk.” You whisper, coming closer and hugging yourself with your arms. 

“I have nothing to talk to you about.” 

“Rafe, please. I need to explain.” He turns around suddenly, blue eyes colder than you have ever seen. You almost step back from Rafe’s intense gaze, because never before were you at the receiving end of that look. He was nothing but sweet and kind to you during your entire relationship, so losing that privilege hurts you even more. 

He tries to hold back, tries to calm himself down at the image of your looking at him so sadly, with regret written all over your face. Rafe breathes heavily, trying to hide the pain of feeling played by you—the only person he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. He hates that even now, even with the anger raging inside him, he still feels that instinct to protect you, to calm you.

Hurts at the realisation that he doesn't want to lose you, that a part of him feels like he cannot survive without you, that even after what you’ve done he can’t let you go. He doesn’t want you to actually leave him alone. 

“The fuck you need to explain? The way you betrayed me, huh?” He takes slow steps towards you, intimidating, almost threatening, but his voice shakes with emotions. “The way you went behind my back with that bitch Hollis to screw me up and make me lose my money? I fucking trusted you, I gave you everything and you still did that to me.” Rafe’s face was just inches from yours and you were unable to take your eyes from his, unable to even deny it, because he was not wrong. 

“I know, Rafe, I know!” You sob, unable to hold back your tears. “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant to set you up like that. I was angry at you and she appeared at that exact moment, and... 

“She was fucking angry!” He yells, throwing his hands up in the air. You flinch but still stay your ground. 

“Because you hurt me, Rafe!”

“Bullshit. I did nothing but take care of you.”

“I heard what you told your friends.” You yell back, not caring about trying to communicate properly anymore. You were wrong for doing that, yes, but the way his words made you feel at that moment was probably the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, so it wasn’t like you were the only one to blame. “That you’re not living with a pogue, that you have standards, that we’re just hooking up... I heard it all, Rafe. How did you expect me to react to that, huh?”

You see a slight shift of recognition or even regret in his eyes, but he quickly goes back to his previous coldness. 

“So you made me lose my money because of this shit?” 

“I know that it was wrong, okay? But... but do you understand what I felt at that moment? Do you understand how much it hurt me to hear it?” You sob again, desperately trying to wise away all of the tears that were streaming down your face. You’re barely able to speak properly with the lump in your throat, but you push it away because you feel there’s only one chance for you to get things straight with Rafe. 

He stays silent, his brows are knitted, whether in still-lingering anger or in a hint of regret and frustration because of the way you were feeling. Rafe always hated seeing you cry, seeing you hurt in any type of way, even if he hasn’t always been able to admit or express it, and now part of him is more angry at himself than at you. Your trembling frame, the way your shoulders shake with each sob, chips away at his anger, leaving only the fear of losing you.

“We’ve been together for more than a year, Rafe. I— I thought that it meant something to you. That I mean something to you. I was hoping that maybe all of your kook and pogue bullshit was long forgotten, but you didn’t even hesitate to say that to Topper.” Your voice is filled with sadness and despair, and you are aware that you are probably looking a mess right now. All  you can do is just wipe your face with the loose sleeves of your shirt, sniffing in between your words and trying to make your voice less shaky. 

"How was I supposed to feel?" How would you feel if you were in my situation, Rafe? If I said you did not mean anything to me and I was just having a good time?" You ask, but don’t get an answer. Instead, he just looks at you silently, with a blank expression, because he knows that he would’ve gone absolutely crazy. “I love you. I did for a long time, but you made me feel as if I was nothing to you. Just another pogue that you despise, that you keep around for fun until you find someone better and just dump!” Placing a hand on your violently beating heart, you take a deep breath before continuing. 

“It was stupid. I regretted it as soon as I did it and I wanted to tell you, but you had already signed the contract. I know I hurt you with what I did. But can you really say you didn’t hurt me first?” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. He finally mutters, his voice quieter now. “But you don’t get it, Y/N. All my life, everyone’s expected me to be a certain way, to follow the same fucking rules I don’t even believe in. I thought… I thought if I kept us under the radar, I’d protect you from that. And you know how hard it is for me to open up—that I don’t want to let people in because everyone ends up leaving me.” 

“I never meant to betray you, I never wanted to be another person who hurts you, Rafe.” You feel like you are about to collapse, burying your face in your hands and crying. 

It feels like a joke of your spiraling mind at first, but when your body suddenly gets embraced in a familiar warmth and scent, you break down completely. Rafe hugs you around your shoulders and you wrap your hands around his waist, gripping the back of his shirt and hiding your face in his chest. You’re sniffing and trembling, unable to breathe properly, until you feel his hand at the back of your head and his low voice shushing you. 

“Breathe, baby. Just breathe. ‘S okay.” He rocks both of you from side to side until your breathing straightens. The steady beating of his heart soothes you quickly, until your tears get dry on your face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I was an idiot for not protecting you the way I should’ve.” You feel him slightly leaning down. Slow, delicate kisses being left on your temple, on your cheek, and with a slight movement of your head, Rafe’s able to capture your lips. 

Your face is still sticky with tears, and your lips are swollen, but neither of you care as you start to melt against him. It’s been way to long since he left for Morocco. The stress that you’ve experienced from your fight and from the fact that you were going crazy about his safety was overwhelming. 

While he was kissing you slowly, you both realized how hard it was to stay apart for that long, not sure of what was happening between you two. 

“I’m sorry that you lost so much money because of me.” You mumbled when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. 

“You know it’s not the damn money I actually care about. I thought that I was wrong about you, that I lost you, Y/N.” You shake your head against his, caressing the sides of his face with your hands. 

Rafe lifts his free hand that was not holding your waist, placing it on top of your hand and you see the way his tense shoulders immediately relax at the feeling of his mother’s ring still on your finger. 

“We’re making it official. I don’t care about this pogue bullshit, don’t care about whatever Topper with his crazy bitch or other kooks think about it. I’m not wasting my time anymore.” You smile through happy tears now, looking Rafe in the eyes, seeing that familiar warmth that you were afraid to never experience again. He smirks back at you, holding you tighter against his chest. “No more hiding and lying, yeah, baby? I love you.” 

“Y-yes. No more of that stuff. I love you too, Ray.” You giggle before he drags you even closer to kiss you again. 

[f1tales]

i beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker - mv1

that's that me espresso || part five

previous part || next part

pairing: max verstappen x ofc!piastri

summary: oscar’s older sister is a singer, who’s taylor swift’s opening act for the eras tour. she goes to a few races on her break. she meets max; who thinks about her every night now. much to oscar’s annoyance.

author's note: it's very dialogue heavy towards the end, but it's a videocall and idk how to write that any differently. i also don't really know where i'm going with this whole fic, but i'm having fun writing it. it's like a little break from other fics i'm working on. more serious ones, maybe? idk. hope you enoy x

face claim: sabrina carpenter

Ivy hurriedly got out of the car. She rushed towards Max, who was still standing in front of the building with his arms crossed over his chest. The expression on his face was hard to read.

"Max," Ivy breathed out in front of him. She tried to smile, but her face trembled as she stood in front of him.

The media had really put her through it with her relationships before. But she never cared before. She wouldn't let the media ruin what she was trying to build with Max. She couldn't let them do that.

"I know how cliché this sounds, but it's really not what it looks like!"

Max frowned as he looked from Ivy to Daniel. Daniel was standing just a few meters away from them, by the side of his car. Ready to jump in the car and speed off should the situation demand it.

"Can you please look at me?" Ivy grabbed Max's hands. She smiled, "I came to surprise you."

"Consider me surprised," he muttered.

Ivy looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. Be like that. Don't hear me out then. Trust me, I have no problem getting back in Daniel's car and have him drive me straight back to Nice airport."

Ivy saw the way Max visibly deflated at those words. His arms dropped from the cross over his chest to the side of his body. He nodded, silently telling Ivy to continue. She looked around, they were still outside.

"First, we're going back to yours."

She turned on her heel to grab her suitcase from Daniel. She gave him a hug and thanked him for picking her up from the airport. She wheeled the suitcase behind her and dropped it in Max's hands before strutting towards his car.

Daniel laughed at the whole ordeal. It was a funny sight: Ivy, standing with her arms crossed next to the passenger side of Max's car and Max fumbling with his car keys to open the booth. Daniel waved at the pair when they finally drove off.

They drove in silence to Max's flat. They also rode the lift up in silence. Max opened the door for her, watching as she walked in. He trailed behind with her suitcase in hand.

Ivy sat down on the couch and patted the space next to her. She waited for Max to sit down next to her before she turned her body towards him.

"I don't know what you saw online, but I didn't fly all the way from Australia for you to just jump to conclusions about me and Daniel. I thought you knew me better than that. And if not me, at least Daniel."

Max stayed quiet as he looked down at his feet. She was right. He knew she was right. Yet, when he had seen those pictures online of Daniel and Ivy he couldn't help but jump to conclusions.

He released a long breath before looking at the gorgeous girl sitting next to him, "I'm sorry. I got so insecure when I saw you with Daniel. I know he's a lot better looking than I am and-,"

Before he knew it, Ivy had wrapped her arms around him. She placed a soft kiss on his cheek with a smile on her face.

"Don't ever say that again, okay?" Ivy firmly shook her head. "It's you I want. Not Daniel, okay?"

Max nodded, "okay."

Ivy grinned, "now, I've come to meet your fur children. Where are they?"

The Dutchman laughed as he stood up. He motioned for Ivy to follow him so he could introduce her to his cats.

Later that evening, Ivy was sitting on Max's couch. She had just showered and had changed into one of his hoodies. One she'd been wearing she he tactically left it for her at Daniel's farm weeks ago. Max was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the two of them.

She had her phone in her hand, Oscar's face filling the screen. "It was just a misunderstanding."

Oscar didn't seem convinced on the other end of the line, "you sure? I can ditch the MTC now and be there in three hours to kick his arse."

The older Piastri sibling rolled her eyes, "I'm older than you, remember? I think if anything, I should look after you."

It was now Oscar's turn to roll his eyes, "I'm always going to look after you. Especially after you know."

"I know."

Ivy gasped when she felt something jump up on the couch next to her. She turned her head to find one of Max's cats curling up to the side of her. She smiled as she started stroking the cat. She turned back to Oscar.

"Where are you going?"

Oscar looked rather smart for a quiet night in. Ivy watched him rummage around in his apartment. He appeared back in the screen, "just dinner with Lando," he mumbled as he put his watch on.

The singer grinned, "why you all dressed up for dinner with Lando?"

"Please, Vee," he groaned, "we're friends. And it's a fancy restaurant."

"Hm, the blush on your face says something different. And I've seen the heart eyes you make at him. The whole internet has."

Oscar cleared his throat, "right I think you of all people should know not to believe the internet." He looked at her with his eyebrows raised. "Anyway, I'm leaving now."

Ivy heard footsteps approaching, which must mean Max finished cooking. "Okay, love you. Say hi to Lily and Lando for me." She laughed as Oscar groaned again.

"Okay, bye. Love you."

Max sat down on the couch with Ivy. He handed her a bowl of pasta, keepig one for himself. "What was that about?"

The singer shook her head with a smile on her face, "I'll explain at some point." They ate in silence for a while with the TV playing in the background, the Dutch version of First Dates playing. Ivy turned to Max, "can I show you a song I wrote after dinner?"

The driver's eyes widened, "of course! I'd be honoured."

Ivy grinned, "it's called Espresso."

part six coming soon

taglist: @mastermindbaby @charlesgirl16 @a-beaverhausen @shelbyteller @anilovessadbooks

[petew21-blog]

An apple a day...

21st January 2021

Dr. Mikhail Varshavski, or how many people know him - Doctor Mike, is a famous succesful physician and an influencer making money out of his YouTube videos etc. Still taking a bit of his time to examine patients between his videos and interviews.

But today an elderly patient was suppse to come for a visit. Mikhail decided to make it a tv spot where the satisfied patient would come to the hospital and thanked him for treating him.

The patient's name was Arnold Jefferson, a 71 year old man suffering many conditions, such as diabetes, arthritis, hypertension and many many more. Quite common in older people.

Mr. Jefferson arrived an unaware of the upcoming spotilight was greeted by am assistant and led to a room with cameras.

Mr. Jefferson:"I was supposed to come for a vistit with Dr. Varshavski."

Assistant:"Doctor Mike wants to speak to you in front of the camera if that's ok? I am sure you have already signed multiple forms considering your privacy, while in his care. So we won't keep you long and I will go get doctor Mike."

Mr. Jefferson looked around confused. He came for a one on one dialogue, not an interview. He had no interest in all of this.

Docotr Mike arrived to the room. His hair ready, wearing his best scrubs that were ironed that day.

Mikhail:"Good morning, Mr. Jefferson. How are we feeling today?"

Mr. Jefferson:"Good morning. I.. well just as I normally do." he spoke nervously, looking at the cameras and the crew.

Mikhail spoke loudly for the microphone above them to hear and smiled way more than usual. "Amazing. We will do a standard check up and then we will take a look at your blood tests together. Is that ok?"

Mr. Jefferson nodded and was then examined in front of the camera. But they also did many photos where they were wearing masks and touched each other with elbows just to prove how safe they were while handling the ongoing pandemic.

He felt uncomfortable. "Could I please be examined alone for the part where I get to undress?"

The smile from doctor Mike's face disappeared. "Sure. Yeah. Can all of you from the crew go and take 5? Thank you. We will finish with Mr. Jefferson quickly.

The crew left and Dr. Mike was left alone with the patient.

Mr. Jefferson:"You complicated things for me, you know? I would have done this much sooner."

Doctor Mike had his stethoscope in his ears listening to Mr. Jefferson's heart. "What do you mean by that?" he said confused by what the patient said.

Mr. Jefferson placed his hands on Dr. Mike's head. "This". Flashes of lights shined between the two of them. Mikhail wanted to run away, but the force from Mr. Jefferson's hands was so strong. He couldn't let go.

Mikhail's eyes closed by themselves. He didn't see anything.

The first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was his reflection. Nothing unusual. He saw his face everyday in the mirror. But he felt anxious as soon as his body started moving on his own and flexed.

His body spoke out loud:"Oh my. It feels great to be this young again. It seems you take a great care for your body, Mikhail. Or I should say Arnold now."

Mikhail was in disbelief. What was happening? Is this all real?. "What did you do to me?"

Arnold:"I didn't hear that question for a very long time now. It will be easier to show you." he handed him the mirror. In the reflection was the same old man that he trested seconds ago. He touched his face and the reflection did the same.

Mikhail:"How are you doing this?"

Arnold:"Couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. I am honestly not sure."

Mikhail:"Why me? I am a doctor. I am not someone you should steal life away from."

Arnold:"You almost answered your question. If I don't have the right to do that then why should you? Remember my wife you treated? How you misdiagnosed her?"

Mikhail:"This is medicine. Mistakes can happen. It's not an exact science. Sometimes we don't have the power to save everyone."

Arnold:"Maybe. But my wife was special, like me, you know. We did the same thing I just did for you for almost a century. But we fell in love with the life that these bodies had. The love they had for each other, the family. We even had a new young couple found to move over to, but you just had to fuck it up. So... let my face be a constant reminder of what you messed up."

Mikhail:"You can't do this. No one will believe you. Everyone will find out. I will tell them."

Arnold:"Yeah, not really my concern. Whenever one of you does this, they end up in a mental hospital. So I guess it's up to you now, if you want to finish the shooting quietly or get a quick ticket for mental hospital for the short rest of your life you have left. So what's it gonna be?"

They finished the spot and Mikhail in Arnold's body was escorted out of the hospital. He was old now. His body ached. Every step he took was like a needle. He was picked up by one of his family members. He had no idea who it was. His son? Grandson? Maybe they'll know more about the swapping. Maybe the clues will be inside the house. Or maybe none at all.

18th February 2021

Mikhail sat in his new arm chair and held a mug in his hands. It has been almost a month since he lost his body.

One of his grandsons played with a tablet next to him.

Mikhail:"What are you doing there, Joe?"

Joe:"You wouldn't understand, grandpa."

Mikhail:"Maybe I would. How about you show me?"

Joe gave him initial instructions he would normally give Arnold, but Mikhail already knew all of this and confidently asked for him to put up YouTube.

Joe was surprised that his grandpa now knew all this, but he did what grandpa asked him to do.

They found Doctor Mike's channel. There was only one new video from the last time that Mikhail has posted anything.

The video had a bad quality. The one who edited the video was definitely an amateur.

The name of the video was: Why I decided to quit medicine

Mikhail froze. His life was all about being in the medical field. And now Arnold ruined it all.

He played the video. Arnold seemed very happy with his new body, because he kept touching his arms, his pecs and hair even while talking about how unsatisfied he became while working as a doctor.

Mikhail took the tablet and searched for more information about his old body. He found information about a lawsuit for malpractice, that the new doctor Mike how faced.

But something kuch worse caught his attention. An Only Fans account.

Mikhail left the room with the tablet and his grandson screaming behind him. But he didn't care about that now. He opened the page and immediately subscribed while entering his credit card info.

The page unlocked.

Mikhail had tears in his eyes. There were videos of his old body pleasuring himself, embarassing himself, pleasuring others...

All of that for a bit of money from horny peopl, that wanted to see the famous doctor.

Mikhail decided to send a message that cost extra money.

He sat there for a while and thought about what it would say.

"Dear, doctor Mike. Or maybe you still remember your old name, Arnold. I wanted to say something mean about you ruining my life. But after watching the videos, I have to say I miss my body. Even though I would want it back I don't expect you'd give it like that for free. But maybe you could let me enjoy that body once again from someone else's view? What do you think? It might get a lot of views.

Sincerley,

Dr. Mike Arnold Jefferson"

On the other side of the screen sat Arnold in front of the computer, his dick hard. Reading the message from his old body.

"This might be interesting" he said, grinning mischievously.

Two woman called out behind him from the bed:"Coming to bed, honey?"

Arnold smiled and turned around. "Ready for round three?"

Anonymous request from inbox

Could you please write a body swap story where an elderly patient steals Dr. Mike’s body when he is seen by him for a visit?

[cat-tyy]

Actually something pops into my head.

I just don't know how to start it lol

When I found a kid frantically slashing at the rose bushes, with a sword not mend for his size, it struck to me. I'm in sleeping beauty's story. I was wonder if I could interfere this time. "Hello child" I called, with a smaller voice than intended. "Who goes there?!" "Show yourself at ones!" the panicking child is seeking with desperation in his eyes. "Ah, sorry, I wasn't.. Trying to scare you." looking the boy up and down i continued "people usually don't react to me..." a loud silence. "Are you a witch!? People go on and on about witches these days! Show yourself! Leave my friend alone!" the child keeps getting angry with everything he says. "N-no I'm not, more of a ghost?" "atleast don't stammer when you lie to me! You're definitely a witch! Or a wizard, are you a wizard? Can you help my friend please?" the child has a lot of doubts in his voice but his eyes keep looking at the fast growing bushes. "Are the bushes always doing this? " trying to break the situation away from me and redirecting his growing angry at the bushes. Without saying anything he goes back to chopping.

He doesn't seem to hear me anymore, everything I say falls to deaf ears. Well it was fun while it lasted. The child, the prince if i remember correctly, was supposed to save the princess who fell to eternal sleep or something. With a kiss of true love? I looked at the kid, who just wants to save his friend. I can't remember anyone who was at the prince's side in the story. While I was just talking with myself, we got to the entrance of the castle.

Everyone was moving and busy. No one was sleeping along? I thought that that was part of the story. Prince just storms in and everyone seems to ignore him. Is that how you can treat a prince? The prince makes an dramatic entrance by full swinging the door "ROSA! Let's get some sun today!" the prince looks at her with desperation in. "I'm not going... You know I can't come..." the girl sound so incredibly sad, she doesn't look up to look at him. Just tucks her blanket over her head.

After listen for awhile hearing those children speak, laugh and snack on things the prince took with him. I figured out the girl, Rosa, has heard the story about the spinning wheel when she was 10 years or so, after finding out she refused to get out of her bed and her family didn't do anything to get her out and eventually she got the ability to grow those rose. My time here is almost over and i still can't make myself clear, I can't hug them i can't console them nor can I shout at the adults who didn't even help a child with problems far larger than she could handle. I get a weird question in my head again "WHAT DID YOU LEARN THIS TIME?" it announced judt like everytime. "The a adults in this world are garbage and should all be replaced! Well thats not really a phrase... Let's go with, friends over family" proudly I pop back in my room and decide to sleep for a while. "I really hope those kids will find a better place"

As an adult you keep getting pulled into a fantastical world meant for children to learn lessons. The problem is you keep learning the wrong lesson.

[manheeiim]

Nothing Lasts Forever - Gone Too Early

Warning: Season 4 Finale Spoiler Ahead

ᥫ᭡ link to nothing lasts forever masterlist

I ran through the crumbling building, my goggles pushed up my face, headscarf covering my hair as I ran around looking for JJ. He had left for a few moments to help the others and we were now separated and I was alone, scared for my life.

I had never thought that my life would come to the point that I was in another country for the nth time, running from people. I was now always running from people ever since I met JJ and the other pogues.

I look around as I call out for my boyfriend when suddenly, someone comes up from behind, grabbing me harshly, one hand grips my shoulder while the other holds a knife up to my neck.

I scream and immediately I'm being shushed so I oblige, scared for my life. I didn't even know who was behind me but I had a few guesses.

I could hear footsteps and JJ came running in he froze for a moment as he saw the position that me and whoever was holding me were in. He then comes over, holding onto the bag that held the crown.

"Let her go!" He firmly told whoever was holding me.

"Stop right there." The man behind me tells JJ and so he does. "You know what I want." He tells JJ and even I knew what he was talking about. The crown, he wanted the crown.

"Just let her go." JJ says and I really hope that he just gives the crown to this man to get me out of this situation but really, I had no real doubt that he would.

"You could've stuck with me JJ. Think what you could've had." The man says and immediately I know that it's his dad. His real dad.

I'm whimpering in fear as this all happens as I look into my boyfriend's eyes, waiting for him to just give the guy the damn crown. He looks me back in my eyes before looking over at his dad.

"You want the crown. Sure, take it. Take it. I don't want it. Just let Lucia go." He firmly says.

His dad reaches out for it and JJ hands it to him, his other hand immediately grabbing onto me as he exchanges the crown for me. He holds me close as he pulls me away, leaning down and hugging me tightly.

I relax into his hold and start to cry a bit in fear as we hold one another close.

"It's okay. It's okay." He softly says and I pull away a little before kissing him. We pull away after a few moments and he looks down at me.

"JJ." I hear his dad say. JJ reluctantly turns around to face his dad. "It's a shame. You and me." His dad says and I sigh.

There's then a movement from his dad, a squelching noise, and JJ is bending down a little, a groan falling from his lips. I freeze, not able to process what had just happened. I back away a little and then I see, the knife in JJ's stomach. I gasp, my whole body now shaking in fear, not knowing what to do.

I watch in fear as his dad shoves the knife deeper into him, "You should have.. given me.. the rope." His dad says before pulling the knife out of him. JJ falls back a bit and I hold onto him as his dad stands there for a moment before running off.

"JJ..." I say, voice shaking. "JJ." I say a bit louder, the panic setting in. He falls to the ground and I kneel down with him. "No, no. No. Please, no. No." I'm stammering, tears sliding down my cheeks.

He's coughing, choking, stammering and I'm freaking out, my hand trying to stop the bleeding even though obviously that wouldn't work.

"I- I don't know what to do." I sob, feeling like I was making this even worse by not knowing what to do.

His hand comes up to my face before moving to my head, caressing my head over the scarf weakly. "Lucia.." He mutters out.

My heart drops even more than it already did, "No, no, don't." I say, knowing what he was going to say.

"Lucia, I love you. I love you so much." JJ says, despite my rejection. I find myself sobbing as I lean my head into his chest. "We're- we're not going to be able to have what we wanted. The- the big kook house with dogs and kids- kids of our own. I'm s-sorry, baby." He stammered out, using a lot of energy even to just say that.

Those words hit my heart so deeply, hurting it in a way I've never felt before. I'd never felt this type of pain before. Never in my life.

"Don't say that." I sob against his chest. "Don't!"

"I love you, Lucia. I love you." I say and after a few moments, I feel his body still and his hand slowly drops from my head. I freeze, quickly pulling away and I could see his body completely still and his eyes shut.

"JJ." I say. "JJ. JJ? JJ. Please, JJ. Please answer me!" I sob, shaking his body but he's limp. "No!" I cry out. "No! No! No!" I sob loudly as hug his body. "No!" I scream in internal pain as I cry against his skin.

I don't even realize it when the others come running over and crowd JJ and me. I don't. I'm completely in my own world as I sob in utter pain and sorrow. He was gone. He was dead. JJ was dead.

The man who, yeah, I planned to live in a nice Kook house with, with dogs and our own kids, was dead. Sure, I knew that would never happen but I was okay living the life we already lived, as long as it meant that I was with him.

What was I going to do without him? What was I going to do? He was all I wanted and now, I could have him no longer. JJ was the only one who really fully understood me. The only person I ever fully opened up to. I couldn't imagine being like that with anyone else and he was gone. Gone.

Sure, he made some stupid choices and sure, he didn't have the best life but that never mattered to me. I knew that all too well. I could never judge him for it. I'd always love him despite that.

Maybe I should've known that this day would come. I probably should've. Maybe in the back of my mind, I did know. If it hadn't been today it likely would've been another day. Especially with the way things were going leading up to this day.

I should've known that nothing lasts forever.

THE END

[drunkinyourbenz]

ALWAYS THERE FOR YOU

☆ SYNOPSIS: your parents' excitment about the election results left you with a pit of dread in your stomach. luckliy for you, you had billie, who helped you through it all.

☆ RELATIONSHIP: billie eilish x fem!reader

☆ WARNINGS: angst, comfort, politics, right wing family, implied homophobic family, long distance relationship (during tour)

☆ REQUESTED? yes, anon

☆ NOTE: hi my loves, i saw this request and just had to write it right away (literally wrote it in half an hour lmao) for anyone needing comfort as well as the anon who requested this, i hope you're doing okay. i'm not from america, but i'm also deeply dissapointed about the election results, and i feel for all of you who are there. i hope i did this request justice, i don't have a family who's like super against my views so i hope this is okay <3 anyone with family celebrating like the readers is in this story, please imagine me giving you the biggest hug rn, i hope you're coping okay. my dms are always open if you want to talk about anything at all, i love you all, please stay safe <33

☆ WORD COUNT: 1.2k words

you and billie had been dating for a while now, and she made you happier than anyone ever had before. she was your other half, and without her you would feel incomplete. you weren’t on tour with her, much to both of your disappointments. but you’d had personal things that took up your time at the start of tour, so the plan was that you’d join her once she came on tour to your city, and you’d join her for the rest of tour. despite not being on tour with her, your mind always drifted back to her, she had a permanent residence in your heart. 

so naturally, on election night, you sat in your room thinking about her. you wanted nothing more than to be held by her in this moment, you’d slipped away from dinner as soon as you could, but you could still hear your family’s excited chatter coming from downstairs. the fact that they were happy about the way it was going, the way they wanted a future that was so drastically different from the one you had in your mind… it stung. your parents genuinely wanted a future that you weren’t sure whether you had a place in, and you didn’t really know what to do with that information.

you were trying to stay off social media, to stay away from the news, because you knew it wouldn’t help you—you couldn’t change a thing. but every few minutes, you’d end up switching back to the tab on your laptop with the live updates, feeling a sense of dread settling in your stomach. you couldn’t quite comprehend how so many more people had voted for him, the man who made you genuinely fear for your future. 

so finally, you texted billie. you needed her comfort, even though it would just be her voice over a call. you needed her. 

can i call you??

billie replied not long after, her text simple. 

bils: ofc baby

her contact calling you came up on your screen before you could even move to call her, and you automatically accepted the face time. her face popped up on your phone after a moment, and as well as the tiredness from tour you’d been seeing so much of lately, she looked just as crestfallen as you. the two of you shared the same opinions on this, and you knew how much billie cared about it. 

just as the call loaded properly, you heard a loud cheer from downstairs, and you couldn’t stop the grimace that appeared on your face. billie’s lips curved down in a soft, sympathetic frown, “oh, baby.” 

a sigh left your lips, the sound somewhat defeated, “i just… i don’t know how they want that. it feels like they want a future that i’m not safe in–” billie cut you off with an understanding sigh, she knew that if she let you keep talking, you’d simply spiral. she knew what you meant, you felt a rift between you and your parents, you felt unsure of what that meant for your relationship with them. billie herself had never experienced it, with her own family being supportive and sharing her views, but she had always been good at comforting you. 

“i’m so sorry, baby. you know that me and my family have always got you, no matter what, yeah? we’ve got your back, we’re always here for you. all of us.” 

your lips curled into a soft pout, her words lessening the sadness you were feeling. “i love your family.”

she smiled softly at you, “and we love you. always.” 

you cracked a small smile at her words, the disappointment behind your eyes still very much evident, but you felt an overwhelming feeling of love for the people in your life. even if your blood-related family didn’t understand, you had your chosen family. that small fact that you had your people, who agreed with you on these things, it helped to soften the blow of your parents wanting the country to go down such a different path than you did. only slightly, but it helped. you felt the pain dull slightly. 

the two of you stayed on the phone for a while, billie distracting you from your parents downstairs by telling you about the tour so far. obviously, she was also upset about everything going on, but she knew you needed this support and that was more important than talking about it. she just wanted you to feel okay. you could feel the emotions hanging around both of you even through the phone, but you appreciated that she wasn’t mentioning them right now. you’d have plenty of time to talk about the election later, once you didn’t feel so despairing about the future. 

after about half an hour of the two of you just talking, you decided to ask her something. 

“bils?” 

“hmm?” she hummed, looking up as if she could sense the importance of what you were about to say even through one word. 

“do you… do you think i could join you on tour a bit earlier than planned? i just don’t know if i can stay in this house for any longer, it’s just–”

“of course.” 

her instant, firm reply cut off your rambling and you sighed in relief, “thank you–”

“don’t thank me, darling. i just want you to feel safe.” she paused, thinking, “you could join us on the minnesota dates, if you want. there’s two days there, so it gives you more time to get here. i can book you a flight–” 

you smiled at her considerate words, the way she was taking everything into account. oh, how you loved her. “that sounds perfect. and don’t book first class this time, jesus. i can put up with an economy flight, i’m used to them. plus,  i get to see you at the end of it.” 

she smiled warmly, “mm, you do. and then i’m wrapping you up in a massive hug and never letting you go, because i love you.” 

you giggled softly at her words, “i think i’m looking forward to seeing maggie more, actually.” 

billie rolled her eyes fondly, her mother just adored you. “i don’t blame you.” 

the two of you talked into the night, and were still on the call when you woke up. you weren’t aware that you’d fallen asleep, and you probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for her soothing voice.

it was now the early hours of the morning, soft sunlight streaming through the curtains you’d forgotten to shut. the house had gone silent by now, your parents finally asleep, and you felt a tiny bit of peace just laying there in the silence. you looked at the screen for a moment, simply admiring her pretty sleeping face, the way her eyelashes fluttered slightly and her chest rose and fell with each breath. this time in a few days, you’d be in her arms again. 

you let out a soft sigh. the country may be falling apart by the seams, but you had billie. you had her, so you’d be okay. 

[minnies-puppydoll]

hi!! i really really REALLY love your works so far like USHDNSKSKJZZBNS THEY ARE SO GOOD AND FIT THEM AND JUST THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR HARD WORK

uhm, so uh, i would like to order a skz reaction when they are needy, please. like when they are so desperate and just yearn to fuck or be fucked i dont mind. thank you so much!! 🫶

OT8 HCS:

*~When they’re needy~*

pairing: ot8 x reader

tags: cum, toys, anal, sounding, begging, degredation, praise :3

thank you for ordering!! do you need a recipt?🐶

smut below the cut<3

Chris:

• gets so flirty.

• like he’s usually flirtatious, but when he actually wants it to go somewhere he so extremely smooth with it.

• but it also turns into dirty talk real fast. he’ll spill filthy things into your ears or messages.

• or he’ll send you quick little texts like:

you should come over ha ha..not unless u want too <3

• dick pic sender!! his big, leaky cock twitches under the exposure of his camera, he bites his lip as he snaps the picture. he giggles despite feeling dirty, because a part of him likes being teased.

• he ends up getting himself more worked up on accident. he doesn’t want to jerk off or anything because he wants to save his cum for you. but, he can’t resist touching himself, so he’ll just tease his cock so bad.

• you may come home and see your sexy boyfriend laid out on the couch red-faced and breathing heavy with the bottom of his shirt between his teeth. he’ll run his fingers along his red, dripping cock lightly, whining and squirming his hips at the torture.

• he thinks you’re cute, so he likes to touch you up and tease you.

• honestly is a bit shy to say outright the he “wants to have sex” so he’ll play with you until you’re begging to fuck. (depends on his mood)

• or sometimes he’ll let his actions speak louder, by kissing you as soon as you walk through the door, pressing his hard cock onto your thigh so you can feel how much he thought of you.

“mmh..yeah, feel that? feel me? been like this all day, teasing my cock just for you. its my turn to feel you, hm?”

Minho:

• can’t focus on shit.

• he sees horniness as an annoying ache. he’s so distracted easily, he’s daydreaming about sex, and he’s uncomfortable, he just wants to relieve the desire burning his core.

• so sensitive too, especially when he’s daydreaming. someone touches his shoulder and he’s flinching, if someone whispers something in his ear he’s shuddering.

• he used to be too proud to say he’s horny. but you could see through his curt, sarcastic attitude by how clingy he would get around YOU. the only one that could fix it.

• so because of his attitude, he used to just spam text you a bunch of things for attention. it’s like as soon as he’s horny, he’s laying himself over you like a cat.

• but now, he’s way more comfortable, maybe even too comfortable.

• he’ll just send you a selfie with a dumbass filter and text:

come to the bathroom and suck me off🐰

• like bro what💀 it always works though..

• doesn’t send dick pics. even if he’s away he’ll just facetime you if you wanna see his dick so bad. he’ll pour lube down his cock and jerk himself off so slowly, always shows his blissed out face too.

• when he’s finally got his hands on you, he’s too focused on getting himself off to say anything to you really. but, if you keep him waiting long enough, you’ll hear his frustration.

“can we fuck? like right now? ….please. ill eat you out. i know you can’t say no to something like that.”

Changbin:

• if he’s at the studio, you won’t even notice. you can only tell by the impatient bouncing of his leg and his nervous lip bites.

• once he has you alone, he’s placing a soft hold on your waist, nuzzling your noses and whispering such cute things that equally make you giggle and want to bite on his lips.

• his foreplay consists of soft grabs and sweet kisses that get deeper and deeper until he’s got you straddling him, not breaking the intimate makeout session you’re sharing.

• very comfortable telling you when he’s horny, even if pink still hues his cheeks a little.

• very cute about dick pics. he doesn’t send them unless you tell him to, and the first time he did, he was so excited and aroused. he looked around from his phone, seeing if anyone noticed the flushed expression he had in his face.

• he snuck to the bathroom and sprung his thick cock out of his boxers, he fumbled with the camera for a while, not really knowing how to take a picture of it?

• he snaps a cute picture of his short cock leaking a thin string of precum on his finger. the picture and situation turned him on so much he was begging you to let him jerk off.

• when you aren’t home, he’s usually patient, but you can’t ignore things forever..

• you guys own a few toys, so he’ll pick a few from the drawer that he hasn’t tried yet and play with his cock until you get home.

• it’ll be a pretty picture when you do too. he’ll be on his hands and knees, lightly fucking a small, pink buttplug in and out of his ass, begging for you too finish him off.

“ahn- welcome home, sweet girl… mphh..need your soft pussy on my cock. please please- fuck me with this in?”

Hyunjin:

• stares at you alot.

• he’ll look up at you with such a sweet, loving gaze, analyzing every part of you like a nostalgic toy.

• he loooves frotting. he’ll show you how needy he is for you by rubbing his sweet hard-on along your clothed tummy till his precum stains his pants. its like he’s magnetically drawn to you when he’s hard.

• comfortable telling you when he’s horny. he’ll tell you when you guys are alone/able to, so you don’t feel pressured to make time for his desires, especially when you’re busy or having fun.

• sends way more bulge pics than dick pics. some of his long, hard cock in his sweatpants, maybe his pretty hand gripping the length of it.

• sends vids too, he’ll send you one of him teasing his cockhead with a thick paintbrush of his, begging you to come home and do it instead.

• when you aren’t home, he’ll jerk himself through the silk of his pajama pants, stopping when he’s close to cumming. or he’ll roll his hips into mattress, pretending it’s your wet pussy.

• and when you do get home, he’s meeting you at the door. his hair is messy and he’s somewhat panting. he’ll step closer to you till his lips rest in your hair, and his hips are the only part of him you can promenantly see.

• he’ll pull his sensitive cock out from his cozy pants, jerking himself off right in front of your eyes, his tip pressing onto your shirt. his breath will hitch and he’ll hide his face in your hair, moaning in realization that he’s finally gonna cum.

• it squirts onto your sweatshirt, pumping out of his cock with small, audible thuds. his cum seeps messily into clothes, as he wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck.

“mm- fuck…so fucking turned on right now..you see what you do to me? oh god..g’nna cum- gonna fucking cum..”

Han:

• act suprised, he’s pathetic.

• literally dissasociated. he wants you so bad he doesn’t even care about whats happening if it isn’t related to you.

• if you aren’t home, he’ll lay in bed, gripping the sheets around him and even stripping down because of how hot his body gets when he thinks about you.

• no indescribable force could keep this man from jerking off. babe as soon as he gets home and shuts the door behind him, he’s leaning on that shit and quickly unzipping his cock free.

• he’ll be still setting down his bag while he’s twitching and jerking from stroking his cock. as soon as he’s done, he plops down on the bed and continues to jerk himself off till he cums for the first time that day.

• oh he sends dick pics. but weirdly only when he’s in public or at work, never at home. you can’t count how many pictures of his hard cock he’s sent from bathrooms, practice rooms, dressing rooms and even in this hoe’s car.

• when you are home, he’s holding your hands and begging for you to have some type of sex with him. he doesn’t card if your pegging, he’s fucking, he’s domming, or he’s subbing or whatever, he just needs to feel you on him.

• if you say anything other than yes immediately, he’s dropping to his knees and looking up at you, saying such useless, pathetic words in hopes to get himself fucked.

“please! please please- i’ll be such a good boy…just need it. need it so bad it hurts. i’ll take whatever you give me..”

Felix:

• so clingy and desperate.

• but, he’s so happy he has someone to fuck so he doesn’t have to suffer alone.

• biggest pleaser. he’ll pull you into a deep hug, reaching a hand down to toy with your clothed clit, eating up every noise you make.

• he likes clear communication so he’ll just text you and ask when you are returning home.

• his dick pics are usually tame. pictures of him pulling up his sweater so you can see his freckled abs and leaky cock. or he sends videos of his long cock squirting in the company bathrooms, you can only hear the cute splashing sounds and his whiny little gasps, trying to stay quiet.

• but, when he feels really turned on, he might even send little slutty videos of his cute cock humping his pillow till he shoots cum all over the fabric, or maybe one of him sounding his cock slit till his eyes roll back from a dry prostate orgasm.

• felix is a WHORE. so u guys do in fact have large toy drawer☺️

• when you aren’t home he either fucks his ass with one of your old dildos, or humps some other object of yours. though it’s softer than it sounds, he just loves you!

• coming home is the best. on the bed, he’ll be sat up on his knees, holding your shoulders and kissing you messily. his back is arched toward you as you tug on his cock to completion. he may not have the energy left to pound you, but it’s the best suprise ever.

“mmph..ffuck- can’t hold it anymore..mm- ah! your hands- ah..faster faster please..i can take it.”

Seungmin:

• you would think he’s in pain or something.

• it starts off with him just scrolling on his phone, and when he starts getting horny he may just reach a hand down there to softly rub his cock through his pants.

• then, he’ll look away from his phone, feeling it get more intense. his cock starts getting antsy, so he’ll text you when you’re coming home.

• finally, his phone is discarded. he decided to take a cold shower before he got sweat on his bed. but, it didn’t help much. the water hitting his cock made him hiss through his teeth.

• before he knew it, he had the showerhead in his hand, turning the water pressure up and letting it hit his cock. eyes rolling back and trembling before his cock squirts all over the shower wall.

• he doesn’t send pictures like at all. he’ll just explain through words how he’s feeling. he finds it awkward and strange.

• but he’ll send the prettiest voice messages of him groaning your name and the sloppy sounds of his cock.

• when he does get his hands on you, its desperate, not like jisung desperate but like he’s kissing you quickly and deeper, holding the side of your face.

• will pound you like he hasn’t cum in years, unintentionally holding you down and forcing his cock deeper.

“needed this. fucking needed this..nothing’s better. hm? slutty pussy’s all mine right? tightest fucking hole.”

Jeongin:

• being horny is his favorite.

• he’ll position himself in front of his mirror, smiling and spreading precum on his tip.

• he doesn’t usually wait for you, because he likes teasing you anyway, he likes it when you beg him to fuck you instead of his hand or his fleshlight. but he may wait for a little while.

• he’ll walk around in his grey sweatpants, making dinner and washing dishes while his hard cock bulges and twitches excitedly when he frots against the counter.

• genuinely the king of dick pics. he knows his cock is pretty, so every time he’s hard he’s having a full photoshoot before he jerks off. has folders in his camera roll full of just his dick.

• prefers taking pictures when you are there. so he can have a pretty pic of you mouthing and nuzzling into his bulge. his good girl.

• excited for you to come home and beg for him to fuck you again. he’ll pull his fleshlight from his closet, steadily moving it up and down on his cock, waiting for you to find him like this.

“wish this was your slutty cunt i was fucking? mm..sorry. i don’t think i can stop now. gonna cry? go ahead. ah..she’s tight too. ill waste my cum in this toy if you don’t start begging.”

[bunny-1111]

Beg for it, Part 3 - Theo Nott Smut

Description: Returning to Hogwarts after ignoring Theodore all summer long, was so much worse than you imagine; Theodore was starving you of what you so desperately needed.

part 1 - part 2

Word Count: 1.4k

SMUT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - unread and unedited

Comments, likes and reblogs appreciated my loves <3

...

Theodore closes the shower screen door with such hast and strength you thought the glass might smash.

The steam filled the small space, and the heat of the running water ran fast down your body. You didn't know if the temperature or his fierce kisses were making you lightheaded. As he pressed you against the cool tile, you felt instantly relieved.

There was no time to be slow or soft; he came at you wickedly rough, his mouth exploring as much of your bare skin as he could swallow.

You’d half-expected him to let go, all the teasing, all the games; you hadn't really expected them to stop.

His sloppy mouth travelled from your lips to the bottom of your ear as you felt the pinch of his teeth collect your skin. You couldn't collect your breath, panting against his, a trembling, weak mess.

"Please, teddy, please", you practically cry, he was unravelling you by the millisecond, you wanted him so bad, it was undoing you completely, exposed, unraveled.

"Please what?" he spat out, his voice like venom

You were going to reply, really, the words were about to spill, but then his hand suddenly took a handful of your ass, squeezing so hard, you blanked.

He pushes your body even harder against his own, the noise of running water flowing, everything was so wet, losing balance, your feet almost slip below you, Theo holding your whole body up with a death grip.

He cups your face with his hand, you can't help but break away from the kiss. In need of something more, you grip his wrist as you begin to take his fingers in your mouth. You stare right at him as you do so, your wide eyes flutter up, he can't help but lean his head back and groan, he was mad at you yes, but fuck you're sexy.

You watch the droplets of water drip down his face to his chest. He looked so good. His fingers taste so good in your mouth as he slams them deeper, almost reaching your throat's bottom.

Your hand lurks down your own thigh, desperate for relief, Theo's eyes flicker down and follow your fingers, halting everything, gripping your wrist.

"don't you fucking dare" he spits

"Then do it for me! I can't keep going. I need you inside me, now!" you choke out

With the speed of a cracked whip, Theodore picks you up again, not bothering to turn the water off, carrying you to your bed. The feeling of his hardness hitting you with each step almost made you faint.

Sitting you at the edge of the bed, he lines himself up with a long exhale. "You're so fucking wet" he praises as he injects his tip

"I've been drenched for you for weeks Theo" you admit in a rush

"Gotta do something about that, hm" he growls enter you without warning, a smile creeps up your lips, ugh, finally.

Theo's eyes stay on yours until you can't look up anymore.

Flipping you around, he starts from behind, your favourite.

Your moans are music to his ears, he can hardly hold back his own listening to you "I love those pretty noises, darling" he praises, gathering your hair in his hand.

"are you mine?” he questions, his voice a low growl, each word sending a thrill through you. “huh!” he screams out, yanking your hair back

“Yes, Theo, I’m yours—” The words tumble out, and he cuts you off by covering your mouth with his hand, swallowing the rest of your sentence as though he can’t stand to hear anything but your submission

"Yeah well you didn't do much to show for it during break, did you" he pants out

A wail of pleasure leaves your mouth as you feel each pound so deeply, his hand still crushing your face as his hand stays snaked around your jaw

"yeah, you can't talk right now? how about you write it out instead" he chuckles a dark laugh you had only heard once before

You tug your brows up; what did he mean write? You could hardly breathe

One of his hands leave it's place on your hip, leaning over to grab the parchment that laid on your bedside, he moves slowly cautious to not slip out of you.

You try to follow his movement, it wasn't until the parchment and a quill was thrown in front of you that you that you became utterly confused.

Theodore crept his mouth just beside your ear, his breath hot against you "I want you to write out, how sorry you are" he whispered

"No tedd-" you begin

"It wasn't a question, go on" he insisted as he adjusted his hands back to your hips, arching your back even lower than it already was

'I'm not fucking playing. Pick up the pen" he instructed, his voice booming behind you

Your shaky hand bring the parchment closer, trembling as the quill touches down. You try your best, but Theo resumes his way with you, going harder than ever, slamming into you as you attempt to even remember to spell.

Your breath hitching as you finish your pathetic attempt at writing 'I'm sorry', your elbow giving out with the last letter.

"Good girl" he grins, flipping you over, facing him again, his hand sliding down your leg to finally grab hold of your ankle, positioning your leg to lay on his shoulder.

Delirious and dizzy, you lift your head up to watch what you are feeling, it was too much, seeing him pulse in and out, you can't help but take hold on his arm, clawing onto any part of him you could hold.

He could feel it, too, moving you to sit on his lap, you arms wrap around to his back, unsteady, your hands move up and down as you do.

"Theo, Theo, Theo" you pant out as you squeeze around him

"That's it, baby, let it out" he guides you as you feel that sticky white substance drips out of you, so full, so satisfied.

As he slows down and pulls out he connects your lips again, mouthfuls of love with each peck.

You both stay there, unmoving, catching your breath, Theo mumbling lovely words, how much he loves you, missed you, how good you felt after too long

"you feel better baby" he says as his hands find their way through your hair

"mhm" you nod gently in agreement mustering through the comedown of the high

"I needed that" you sigh, your forehead meeting his as he pucks your hair weakly behind your ear

"I know" he admits kisssing your forehead tenderly

"I did too" he continues as he wraps his burly arms around you

"c'mere", he mutters, moving you to spoon.

All of that tension, everything you just felt, you knew then and there, you couldn't right him next break either, if it meant you'd be fucked like that again.

...

my first proper proper smut... im sorry part 3 took so long, but here you go my babies <3

-B.

Comments, likes and reblogs appreciated my loves <3

Taglist: (everyone that commented for part 3) @cookiesex115 @jetblackpayne @flowersarcute @staarflowerr @iamaslytherin0 @fanfic-girl-2 @notttheo-sgirl @blocked-zombieartist @ayyeitssarahh

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

The doorbell buzzes. You loathe that noise. You stay as you are, unbothered by the visitor. You already hear Kitty asking Adrienne who it could be. 

You continue to shuffle through the contents of the cigar box. You’re neither surprised or disgusted by the love letters. You know your mother’s writing and you know it isn’t here. You always assumed your father was rotten to the core. No, you were certain of it. The proof only makes you feel worse for your mother. 

The door opens. There’s voices. Soft tones. Kitty’s, Adrienne’s and... his. 

Then, footfalls that ascend the stairs. Too heavy to be your sisters’. You close the box and toss it in the black bag. There is not box to keep. All your father’s stuff needs to go. You have no use for it. 

“You know I’m here,” Barnes says as he appears in the doorway. 

“I do,” you take the old baseball your father made you catch as a girl. He was always disappointed he never had a son. It makes you want to smile knowing he never got the thing he wanted the most. 

“You’ve had your time to mourn,” he says, and nothing else. His meaning is clear. 

You drop the ball and get off the floor. You cross to him with your head down. He’s stoic and still. You reach for his hand. That makes him flinch. As if he’s surprised. He lets you lift it and you kiss the ring on his pinky. 

You let him go and look him in the face, “he’s gone. It’s over. Let’s move on.” 

His brow arches and his eyes narrow. “You understand what happens now?” 

“You take care of my sisters. That’s all that matters to me.” 

“All about family,” he remarks. “Well, real family.” 

You’re silent. You don’t know what he wants you to say. Your heart is in your throat, can’t he see it beating there, choking you. 

“I showed you my loyalty. I did that and I will never tell a soul.” 

“Oh, I know, doll,” he smirks and shifts his weight. It’s your turn to wince as he brushes his knuckles along your cheek. “I don’t just want that loyalty for one night.” 

You blink and fight not to let your fear show. It’s all so uncertain yet deep down you know exactly what he means. It just seems all too much. 

“Sit down,” he drops his hand and turns. He shuts the door. 

You avoid your father’s bed and instead, sit at the vanity where your mother would perch and apply her night cream. He paces and puts his hands in his pockets. He exhales and measures the air. 

“It’s sorted. Everyone knows what happened. Vengeance is taken, the tables are balanced,” he says. “So we move forward. Your sisters are protected. They will have roofs over their head. You will too.” 

You stare at him, waiting for the other shoe. 

“Doll,” he tilts his head, “why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Just say it,” you sniff. 

“Say what?” 

“Tell me what it costs,” you sneer. 

He snickers, “that’s what I admire about you. You don’t beat around the bush. You come to my office, tell me to off daddy. You won’t even let me charm ya, dammit. You just wanna get down to business.” 

“Please,” you beg. “I... I can’t take any more.” 

His expression softens and he approaches you delicately, like an animal he doesn’t want to scare off, “we’re gonna have a big wedding, doll. You’re gonna wear the most expensive thing you can find, and we’re gonna drive off into the sunset together.” 

You gulp and search his face. It sounds ridiculous. You don’t know this man, he doesn’t know you. Yet, he’s the only man who knows what you did. Who know that you could do something like that. 

“Ah, come on, I’m a real man,” he unbuttons his jacket and reaches inside. “I’m more than words.” He takes out a hexagonal velvet box. “So, let me know if it fits.” 

You hesitate but accept the box. You open it with some effort, the hinges are tight. You snap the lid up and stare at the ring within. It has a large teardrop diamond at the center and four decent sized ovals to each side, with little round diamonds worked in between. The gold gleams with the elaborate style of the thick band. 

You slide it out and turn it in your fingers. It has to be worth more than all the stuff your daddy pawned off. More than even this house. You roll it over again and line up your finger with the band. You push into it and it fits snugly below your knuckle, covering half your finger. 

“Too big,” you say. 

“Loose?” He wonders as he leans a hand on the vanity table. 

“No, it’s... clunky,” you wiggle your hand. 

“Never thought I’d hear a woman complain a rock was too big,” he says. “Doll, I expect you to show off. You’re mine, I’m yours. That’s something to brag about.” 

“Flashy. Distracting,” you comment. 

“Any man stupid enough to try to steal that off ya, he won’t be thinking much longer,” he insists and grabs your hand. “Come here.” 

He tugs you until your standing. He admires the ring on your finger and his cheeks dimple as he grins. He puts your hand on his shoulder and wraps his other arm around you. Sweat beads across your scalp and down your back. He’s so close you can smell his mellow cologne. 

“Always good to have more to love, isn’t it?” his fingers curl into the cushion of your hip as he crushes you against him. He brings his palm up to cradle your face as his eyes drift down to your lips. He purrs and rocks you.  

You shudder as your breath catches in your chest. The idea never fully bloomed in your head. You never dared to imagine this. Yet here it and it’s more startling than anything you could ever fathom. 

He turns his hand to frame your chin and pulls you even closer. He leans in and presses his mouth to yours. His beard tickles you as his lips caress yours and his tongue pokes out coyly. You close your eyes as you open up to let him in. 

Your heart thrums behind your ears as you seal your deal with that kiss. You didn’t barter for your freedom, just another master. 

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - Part 16 - Next

"How do you feel today?"

You were checking on Anya, who was still resting.

Anya: "I feel much better... I hope to recover by the time the rescue comes." 

"I hope so, don't worry, even if you can't walk i will carry you." You giver her a smile

Anya: "...(Y/n), I have to tell you something"

"Go ahead"

Anya: "...I had hidden the gun... It's there."

She pointed to a drawer that was under Curly's stretcher, you looked at Anya for a few seconds.

"You had told me that you didn't know where it was."

Anya: "I was afraid you would put it somewhere else and it would be within his reach..."

"Mm... You did well, I would have followed the protocol and kept it with me, it would have been dangerous anyway."

Anya: "...Do you really think they're coming to rescue us? They're not going to leave us here... are they?

"Hey," you took his hand, "Everything is going to be alright, they're going to come."

Anya: "...If they don't come... Could you?..."

"They are coming"

You squeezed her hand more firmly and stayed by her side until she fell deeply asleep.

You approached Curly's stretcher to open the drawer and see the gun's safe.

You entered the code to open it and took it there, making sure it was in good condition.

You felt Curly's gaze on you when you put it away in your uniform.

"It has the safe on, it won't hurt me, don't worry. I don't want to be scolded if they find it here, the protocol says that the captain in charge must have it in their possession in case of an emergency, otherwise, they will be sanctioned. If they come and find it here, they'll make a scene."

You patted his chest a couple of times and pouted.

"Don't look at me like that, you're the one who forced me to learn the rules and follow them. It's your fault."

The man let out a sound, it seemed like he wanted to laugh at your words.

"There's not much time left... We're almost there... And when we return... You're going to be in the hospital a lot for sure, but you'll have a more comfortable bed, better care, I'll come to see you every day... And when you feel better, we'll go home... And we'll sleep together again like before, okay?"

You ran your hand over his chest, smiling at him affectionately, thinking that you would have your husband by your side again.

Curly: "Clo...sh..."

He murmured, looking at you, patiently waiting for you to understand his request. You felt curious about it, but you approached his face.

And he leaned his head to you, a small sound of a clinch could be heard.

You put your hands over your mouth, unsure of how to feel about what he did, but the sensation of having knocked your teeth together left a tingling in your mouth.

While Curly was embarrased that his plan hadn't gone as well as he had thought in his attempt to give you a "kiss."

You ran your tongue over your teeth hoping that sensation would go away faster, and as you did so, you sighed in relief.

"Don't do that again, please," you laughed, still making a couple of gestures with your mouth as if the tickling sensation had lingered. "One day you can kiss me again, but don't crash your mouth into mine with your exposed teeth, we're going to hurt each other."

He let out a whimper and turned hid head to avoid seeing you, to which you responded by leaving a kiss on his neck before leaving.

Daisuke: "Captain, I can't make Polly stop crying, please help me, Swansea told me it was my turn to take care of her and I don't know what to do!  I tried to feed her, her diaper is clean, and she doesn't want me to hold her either!"

The boy approached you with the baby in his arms, who was red from having cried for so long.

"Not here-!"

You pulled him away from the nursery so that Anya wouldn't have to hear the baby's cries.

You took the baby and laid her on the sofa to start rubbing her stomach.

So you took her little feet and started pressing them against her stomach slowly, Daisuke was already starting to panic.

Daisuke: "What's wrong with her?"

He asked in terror until they heard the fart the baby started to release, gradually calming down as she felt relieved.

"Gases," you replied, squeezing her a little more until she let it all out.

Daisuke: "My hero!"

"Now it's your turn to put her to sleep."

Daisuke: "That's easy!"

He took the baby and lay down on the sofa, placing her on top of him. Polly looked comfortable on the boy's chest, relaxed, she closed her eyes.

Daisuke: "Ta-da~"

They heard another fart from the baby again, but this time it seemed like there was something more into it.

Daisuke: "....Captainnnnn"

"...I think both of you are going to need a bathroom..."

You covered your nose, ready to help the boy.