#someone cooked through this whole song

[thekingofspin]

Someone cooked here.

[hoshifighting]

Can you pleaseeee also write staff mingyu x idol reader🥹🥹

staff!mingyu

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, jealousy, suggestive. may be triggering because of; extreme diets, blackout, getting scolded by the choreographer, fingering, a bit of possessive talk, hair pulling, cock riding, devoted mingyu too.

staff!mingyu who you're in one of those tiny-ass dressing rooms with, the ones where you can barely move without smacking into a light fixture or tripping over cables, andhe's , towering over you, big frame almost making the room look even smaller. he’s your stylist-slash-PA-slash-damage-control-for-whatever-stupid-thing-you-say-in-interviews guy, which means he’s there to check every last detail on you, no matter how close he’s gotta get.

it’s day four of this overseas tour—barely halfway in, and you’re already feeling like you’re running on fumes. you’re dodging local food left and right, not ’cause it doesn’t look good, but ‘cause it’s either not on this wild diet they’ve shoved you on or it just doesn’t sit right with your stomach. for real, you didn’t think there’d be a point in your career where you'd be skipping meals, just ‘cause the food doesn’t fit some "ideal look" they cooked up for you.

and staff!mingyu... always there, at the exact moment when your stomach’s about to start an opera of complaints, hands full of grocery bags and this half-smile on his face, like he’s in on some inside joke only the two of you share.

“alright, sit down,” he says, like you’re gonna argue, and starts unloading enough ingredients to feed a small village. he moves around the hotel kitchenette—pots, pans, seasonings, a whole rotation of stuff he’s pulled outta his endless stash. he even managed to drag around a few of those little plastic spice bottles from home, ‘cause apparently, foreign supermarkets don’t stock paprika exactly how he wants it.

“didn’t know your resume included chef duties,” you joke, propping your chin on your hand as you watch him chop veggies with the same focus you’ve seen when he’s backstage, touching up your makeup or fixing your outfits.

he laughs easy. “oh, it doesn’t,” he says, glancing over his shoulder with a grin. “but you looked like you were about to faint this morning, so i figured i’d make an exception.”

“what, you gonna make a whole buffet?” you tease, but the moment he sets that first plate down, you’re quiet. it’s nothing fancy, but it smells like heaven—garlic, spices, veggies mixed with something hearty, real food for the first time in days.

“look, you eat this, or i swear i’m shoving it down your throat myself,” he says, crossing his arms, and even though he’s joking, there’s this serious fringe in his eyes. like, he won’t let you get away with just picking at the food.

“alright, alright.” you dig in, taking that first bite, and it’s somehow exactly what you needed—warm, filling, like someone wrapped you in a blanket from the inside out. you’re not even halfway done, and he’s already cleaning up, telling you about how he once had to do this for himself, back when he was training and could barely afford takeout, let alone proper meals.

“so, yeah, i’ve been cooking for years,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and it hits you then, this guy, who’s supposed to be here to make sure your eyeliner doesn’t smudge, is actually going out of his way to make sure you’re not just a shell of yourself on stage.

“you know, if this whole career thing falls through, you’d make a damn good chef,” you say, and he just shakes his head, laughing.

“nah,” he says, “i think i like this job better. get to keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t faint halfway through a song.”

staff!mingyu who notices everything, who noticed how you walked into the practice room that day looking like... hell, honestly. there were bags under your eyes so dark they could’ve been bruises, and your skin was that shade of pale that came from days of no sleep, maybe a crazy diet, who knows what else. mingyu was hanging out with a bunch of the other staff in the corner, narrowly paying attention at first, but then he caught sight of you—really looked at you—and yeah, it wasn’t just fatigue. he knew what he was seeing; it was that same look he’d seen too many times in trainees and idols back in the day. the look that meant you’d been pushing way too far for way too long.

by the time you got through the first set of counts, your choreographer was already on your case, his tone sharp as knives. “again,” he snapped, crossing his arms, and you could practically hear his frustration from across the room. “you’re not even hitting the moves properly. what is this?” he scoffed, giving you that disappointed stare that always made you feel about two inches tall. “do you even want to be here right now?”

mingyu’s fists clenched a little. he’d seen you pull off that choreography a hundred times before, and he knew damn well it wasn’t that you didn’t care. it was that you literally didn’t have anything left in the tank, and this guy was still going in on you like you were some slacker.

but you didn’t argue back, didn’t defend yourself, nothing. just bowed your head, muttering, “i’m sorry,” in this tiny, defeated voice. mingyu could see the exhaustion written all over you, the way your shoulders slumped, how you couldn’t even lift your head all the way back up after bowing. you just stayed there, bent over in that apologetic pose, like maybe that was the last bit of strength you could pull together.

but then, as he watched, you didn’t straighten up at all. in fact, you didn’t move for a solid couple of seconds. and then, like you were a puppet whose strings had just been cut, you dropped. one second, you were still standing, and the next, your knees buckled, and you collapsed right there on the damn floor.

for a split second, no one reacted; it was like the room had frozen.

but then mingyu snapped out of it, his heart racing as he lunged forward. the rest of the staff started moving too, voices rising in panic, but mingyu was already at your side, leaning down and calling your name, voice barely hiding the worry.

“hey! hey, can you hear me?” he said, reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. you were breathing, but it was shallow, and your face had gone even paler than before, if that was possible. mingyu felt this pang in his chest seeing you like that. you’d been pushing so hard that your own body just gave up on you.

someone behind him was calling for water, another person was getting the choreographer to back the hell off.

jobs in general weren’t easy, he knew that. but for mingyu, there was nothing worse than watching idols, the people he was supposed to support and protect, get wrecked like this—shoving themselves into diets, swallowing the criticism like it was part of the gig, sacrificing sleep and health just to fit into a pair of jeans or to mold into some industry standard that kept shifting.

he’d been in this job for years, and he’d seen it all before. too many nights spent watching trainees lose more weight than was healthy, idols pushing themselves until they’d practically faded away. sometimes, in the back of his mind, he wondered if it’d be worth leaving, finding a path where he didn’t have to witness it all so up close. he’d think about it on those long nights when he was running on four hours of sleep and too much coffee, wondering what the hell he was doing here when he could be somewhere else, not dealing with the cycle of pushing and breaking and then pushing even harder.

but then there was you. you, with your stubborn smile and that relentless drive he couldn’t help but admire. maybe it was that same drive that had you here, running yourself down like you’d forgotten how to stop. but mingyu had felt that pang deep in his chest at the thought of not being around you—of not being there to see you through the highs and lows, to make sure you had someone who cared about more than just your stage presence.

it was that thought, that tiny, persistent ache, that kept him rooted here every damn day. even if he had to watch you crash sometimes, even if it drained him dry just trying to keep up, he’d stay. he’d be right there, whether you knew it or not, making sure that someone in your corner would be looking out for you, whether you wanted it or needed it, or not.

staff!mingyu who’d quietly made it his side mission to keep you fed, like he’d added it to his job description without anyone even asking. it started small, maybe just a little sandwich he’d stash in his bag for you after seeing you collapse that one time. but then it became routine, almost sacred, the way he’d show up like clockwork with that lunch pack in hand, looking half like your bodyguard in his all-black staff gear, half like your own personal chef with a menu that he swore changed every time he showed up.

“mingyu, what’d you make me today?” you’d ask, bouncing into the dressing room after each performance, all amped up and practically beaming because, let’s face it, you’d come to love his little surprise meals more than you’d admit.

and mingyu, with that smug but bashful little smile, would act all nonchalant. “oh, nothing much… just a little chicken and veggie stir-fry,” he’d say, but it was always something next level—some five-star recipe he’d learned just for you. and the best part? he’d make it seem like it was nothing, just a side gig he’d taken up on the fly, when really he’d been researching recipes, planning, and even practicing to make sure it came out perfect.

he’d hand you the lunch pack like he was passing off something top secret, keeping a close eye as you took that first bite, watching for any sign you didn’t like it. but, of course, you always loved it. because mingyu wasn’t just making food—he was making damn art. you’d take a bite, eyes lighting up as you hummed in appreciation, and he’d try to hold back that grin but always failed, shoulders relaxing like he’d just won something.

“you don’t get it, mingyu,” you’d say, mouth full but smiling like a kid on christmas. “i think you’re the reason my performance’s getting better. you’re, like, my actual secret weapon.”

and he’d laugh, pretending to brush it off, but inside? he was proud. because knowing you were hitting the stage with a full belly, with energy to burn and that spark back in your eyes—that meant everything. it was his way of giving back to you, even if you never asked for it, even if you didn’t realize how much he cared.

staff!mingyu who somehow became the world’s best photographer without ever meaning to, taking these casual, almost-too-good photos of you that drove your fans insane. you’d be walking through some cobblestone street in italy or leaning out of a coffee shop in tokyo, and he’d be there, catching that perfect shot with his phone. no fancy equipment, no staged poses—just mingyu, with his natural eye for what made you shine, snapping photos that were somehow intimate and made you look like everyone’s dream. fans called them “girlfriend pics,” and if only they knew the man behind the lens.

you had to admit it—he was stealing your heart a little more with every click. at first, you brushed it off as some harmless crush, a side effect of him being so damn good at his job. but then he’d do something small, like bring you soup when you were sick, or drape his coat over your shoulders when you got cold during a late-night rehearsal, and it’d hit you all over again. mingyu, with that goofy smile, the biggest heart, and hands that somehow felt gentle and grounding as he adjusted your hair or let you lean on him during those endless backstage waiting times.

it was easy to fall for him. too easy, really. and the way he cared? the way he was there for you, always? how could you not? he had this way of making you feel seen, like no matter how chaotic things got, he was your solid ground, always steady, always there to keep you safe and keep you going.

but, of course, staff!mingyu was a catch to more than just you. you’d see the way the other staff members watched him, the way some of them giggled and whispered, eyes lingering a little too long. and mingyu, ever the nice guy, didn’t even seem to notice—or maybe he did, but he didn’t really care. he’d give his number when they asked, smile back when they flirted, just being his usual, friendly self. you’d tell yourself it didn’t bother you, but the truth was, it was like a little ache in your chest every time.

after a show one night, you and the whole team went out to celebrate, and mingyu was right there, laughing, clinking glasses with everyone, in his element. when it got late, exhaustion finally started to settle in, and you decided to call it a night. you told everyone you were heading back to the hotel, hoping he’d maybe do the same.

but mingyu didn’t. he stayed behind, still chatting and laughing with a few of the girls from the staff, and you could feel it—that twinge of jealousy, the frustration, knowing they’d probably spend the rest of the night with him, hanging on his every word, maybe more.

as you looked back one last time, watching him, it hit you like a punch in the gut. maybe to him, all this was just work—a job. you were part of that, someone he cared about, but just someone in his care. and the pang of that realization stung. maybe you weren’t so special after all.

what you were about to do wasn’t right. hell, it felt downright selfish. you sat in the bathtub, hot water swirling around you, trying to drown out the nagging voice in your head that told you to just let it go, that this was a bad idea. but you couldn’t shake it off—every thought twisted into a knot in your stomach. you felt almost sick, like you had this strange, heavy weight pressing down on your chest, something that felt more like heartbreak than anything else.

“god, what am i doing?” you muttered to yourself, scrubbing at your skin like it might wash away the confusion. you knew mingyu was just doing his job, that he was sweet and caring and everything you admired. but watching him flirt with those girls, knowing they’d likely take him away for the night, made you feel like you were going to hurl.

“ugh, this is so dumb,” you groaned, splashing water around, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles. “why can’t i just be normal about this? it’s not like i’m his girlfriend or anything.”

but then the truth hit you again, a sharp stab of clarity amidst the chaos. you wanted to be.

after a few more minutes of spiraling, you said “fuck it,” feeling a rush of determination surge through you. you fished your phone out of your towel, thumb hovering over his name. your heart raced as you typed out the message.

“hey, mingyu. i know you’re probably busy, but i just wanted to say... i’m not feeling great. kind of sick, actually. do you think you could come by?”

you hit send, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter as you leaned back against the tub. was this too much? but then again, maybe it was time to stop hiding how you felt, to admit you needed him without a million excuses holding you back. it was either that or let him slip away for good, and you weren’t ready for that.

mingyu came in a rush, as if he’d been waiting for your text the entire time. you barely had time to wrap yourself in a towel before he was at your door, knocking frantically. “y/n! are you okay? open up!”

you opened the door, and the sight of him—hair a little messy, eyes wide with worry—made your heart race. “yeah, um, just feeling a bit under the weather,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, but it wavered slightly. you didn’t want to come off as dramatic or needy.

he touched your forehead and you leaned into his touch without even realizing it, closing your eyes for a brief second “you don’t have a fever at all,” he said, confsed.

you pulled back abruptly, the warmth fading as reality crashed back in. clutching your towel tight around your body, you walked over to the window, pretending to be fascinated by the view outside. the city lights twinkled in the distance.

“y/n?” mingyu called, confusion clear in his voice. “what’s going on?”

you couldn’t believe you took one of his rare moments of lounge because of being selfish. mingyu leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in confusion. “y/n, you were perfectly fine just a few hours ago. what’s really going on?” he asked, the suspicion creeping into his voice.

“i told you, it’s just a little... off,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. the guilt gnawed at your insides, knowing you were lying, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to come clean.

“off?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “that’s the best you can come up with? you don’t just go from fine to ‘i need my staff member to check on me’ for no reason.” he took a step closer, eyes narrowing. “you’re not actually sick, are you? what’s up?”

you shifted uncomfortably, the towel clinging to you. “seriously, mingyu, it’s nothing. maybe just a little headache or something,” you said, hoping the casual tone would brush off his concern.

he let out a huff of disbelief. “a headache? so bad that you needed me to rush in here? that doesn’t add up.” he studied you, like he was piecing together a puzzle. “just tell me the truth. are you really feeling sick, or is there something else bothering you?”

“i just thought maybe you could... keep me um... company, you know? just for a bit.”

“keep you company?” he repeated, tone incredulous. “so you fake being sick just to get me in here? you could’ve just asked! you know i’m always down to hang out.”

“mingyu—” you started.

but he cut you off, his voice firm, the playful light fading from his eyes.

“why would you do that? this isn’t some joke, y/n. my job isn’t a game. it’s serious.”

you pressed your lips together at his louder tone, the shock of it stinging more than you expected. you hadn’t meant for things to escalate this badly, and as you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, it hit you like a ton of bricks: you never thought mingyu would raise his voice at you. it felt so out of place, so foreign, and your heart sank.

“hey, hey, i’m sorry,” he said, the anger melting away as he noticed your expression. he stepped closer, the care flooding back into his eyes.

you quickly wiped your eyes before the tears could fall, you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. “you know what? i hate it,! you blurted out, unable to hold back any longer. “i hate when they’re all over you, mingyu! it makes me sick to my stomach!”

his brows furrowed, clearly caught off guard. “wait, what? you hate it when who’s all over me?”

“those girls! the staff!” you said, your voice rising with every word. “the way they throw themselves at you like you’re some kind of trophy. and you smile back at them, like it’s all just a joke or something. it drives me insane!”

mingyu looked stunned, blinking at you as if he were trying to process what you were saying. “y/n, are you—are you... jealous?”

“i — well— hell yeah, i’m jealous!” you shot back, frustration spilling over. “you’re so kind and caring, and they see that. they want you, and it feels like they think they can just waltz in and take you away from me. it’s infuriating!”

“but it’s just… it’s just me being friendly,” he stammered, “i’m not trying to lead anyone on. you know that, right?”

“i know, but it doesn’t change how it makes me feel,” you replied. “it’s like you’re this perfect guy, and they all want a piece of you. and here i am, just trying to keep my head above water, feeling like i have to compete for your attention.”

mingyu shook his head, a soft smile creeping onto his face despite the tension. “you don’t have to compete for anything. you’re… you’re the one who has my heart. all those girls? they’re just… coworkers.”

you pause, processing his words, and mingyu scoffs lightly, a teasing grin on his face.

“oh please, it’s true. you think i’m not bothered when i see those idols shoving their numbers on your sandwiches?”

you blink at him, completely taken aback. “wait, sandwiches? what are you talking about? i only eat the ones that you make for me.”

he interrupts you with that signature smile of his, one that always makes your heart race a little faster. “yeah, exactly. that’s ‘cause i always give those sandwiches to someone else.”

“mingyu, what the hell?”

“y/n, what the hell?” mingyu mocks, raising an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk creeping onto his face. “you seriously thought you could pull this off? lying about being sick? that’s low, even for you.”

you roll your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of defiance. “i wasn’t lying, i just—”

“sure, sure,” he cuts you off. “and is wearing just a towel part of your grand scheme too? because if it is, you’re gonna need to step it up a bit.”

“and what if i just want you to come over… in a towel?”

“then i’ll take that as a personal invite,” he grins, his gaze flickering to your towel before meeting your eyes again. “just know, if you’re gonna pull this kind of stunt, you better be prepared for me to take advantage of the situation.”

staff!mingyu who wastes no time, pressing forward until you’re caught between his solid frame and the cold glass, as his body pins you in place.

“you really went all out for this hm?” his fingers trailing down to the knot of your towel.

staff!mingyu who tugs the fabric free, letting it drop to the floor, leaving you fully naked. his hands spreading wide over your back, fingers firm as he turns you around to face the glass. your chest presses against the cool surface making you gasp as mingyu’s hand trails up your spine, steadying you.

staff!mingyu who grips your hips, pressing you forward, and then trails his hands up over your sides, his fingers brushing along your curves until he reaches your shoulders, leaving no part of you untouched, as though he’s marking every inch of your skin as his.

staff!mingyu who leans down, one hand sneaking around to splay across your stomach, pulling you closer to him, making you feel his hard erection on you.

staff!mingyu who lets his hand slip lower, teasing over the sensitive skin of your thigh before slipping higher, his fingers skillfully finding your pussy as he watches you through the reflection, face contorting in pleasure, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“don’t look away.” he instructs, his tone a command softened by that grin of his.

staff!mingyu who keeps one hand firm on your hip, controlling your every move as he slips his fingers inside you, “all this just because you couldn’t stand seeing me with someone else, huh?” he curls the fingers, trying to pull a response form you. “admit it,” he coaxes as he presses you harder against the glass, his fingers never relenting. “tell me you wanted this—wanted me.”

staff!mingyu who doesn’t stop until he feels you melt against him, a soft, teasing chuckle escaping as he takes in your breathless state. “next time,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “just say the word. i’ll come running.”

staff!mingyu who yanks your hair, tipping your head back to meet his lips as you twist in his grip. it’s a little clumsy, the angle throwing you off, but he holds you steady, his mouth hot and insistent on yours. you’re all melting into him, trusting the way his hands keep you secure, letting him take control as his grip on you tightens.

staff!mingyu who, somehow, maneuvers you both towards the bedd, he scoops you up with ease, laying you back as he hovers over you, he presses his hands into the mattress on either side of your head, caging you in as he dips down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your collarbone, down to your shoulder, and back up to your jaw.

staff!mingyu who takes his time, exploring every part of you with slow touches, like he’s determined to map out every reaction, to memorize every place that makes you moan.

staff!mingyu who, even in bed, is all about making sure you’re comfortable, arranging the pillows just so, adjusting the blankets if they’re too rough, whispering “is this okay?” and “tell me what you need” like he’s got all the time in the world. his hands are warm, grounding you, and he never rushes, taking the time to check in, to make sure you’re exactly where you want to be, that he’s giving you what you want, down to the smallest detail.

staff!mingyu who lets you wrap yourself around him however you want, all limbs and tangled sheets, whispering soft reassurances in your ear as his hands trace your back, making sure you feel safe. he’s patient, careful, coaxing you with soft, murmured words, taking his time until you’re both lost in it, every sensation heightened.

staff!mingyu who surprises you by pulling back, catching his breath, and suddenly flipping the roles—guiding your hands to explore him, encouraging you to take control. “i’m yours too, you know,” he murmurs, watching you with that familiar smile, the one that’s equal parts playful and sincere, as he lets you explore, giving you the chance to take the lead.

staff!mingyu who’s all breathless and desperate under you from the moment you take the lead FORREAL and ride him, his hands gripping your hips, trying to guide you even when he’s struggling to keep up. soft, wet sounds filling the room as you roll your hips in slow circles, making him whine. his head tips back, eyes fluttering shut, but you bring a hand to his cheek, making him look up at you.

“tell me,” you murmur, lips brushing just against his ear, “tell me you’re mine, mingyu. that none of these hoes matter.” he looks up, his eyes hazy but still so focused on you, like he’s trying to pour everything into that gaze.

“i’m yours—yours, only yours,” he chokes out, his voice rough and pleading, like he needs you to believe it. he’s babbling now, his grip tightening on you, thumbs pressing into your skin, anchoring himself as you move, each drag pulling another whimper from his lips. “none of them—none of them mean anything,” he gasps, desperate, brows knitted together. “just you. only want you.”

staff!mingyu who’s practically begging at this point, his hands sliding up to your waist, trying to pull you down, closer, as if he could somehow get more of you. “please.” he whispers, his eyes filled with so much want it makes your heart pound.

“you’re mine, mingyu. no one else. got it?” and the way he shudders, that choked, relieved sound he lets out, is everything. he nods frantically, hands gripping you tighter as he starts to lose control, bucking up into you.

staff!mingyu who’s wholly ruined beneath you, lost in every kiss, every whispered word, clutching onto you as if he’s scared you might sneak off, even when you’re right there, telling him over and over again—“all mine.”

[mameillieureennemie]

you and me (let's make something great)

author's note: so i had an idea, and originally, it was gonna be a ficlet mainly focused on debauchery. BUT THEN my brain decided to turn it into something longer with plot, so here we are. it's very soft in the first bit but don't be fooled, it gets filthy as it progresses. please enjoy!

cw: gp!vi, afab!reader, pregnancy talk, breeding kink, dirty talk, nsfw 🔞 (primarily in the second part)

wc: 3.3k

dividers: @/cafekitsune

part i: let's talk about it

There’s always been talk of starting a family.

Kids with the white picket fence and a garden large enough for them to run around. Maybe a dog or two and a cat because you’ve always spoken about how much you want one. It’d be everything that’s so simple and expected of a family, something so ordinary that it’s almost laughable. But you and Vi never had the opportunity to experience what the ordinary family is.

She grew up an orphan with only her sister by her side, only able to survive due to Vander’s kindness.

You had your own set of problems; a family that didn’t listen or could listen but choose not to.

So to have a family where you can give your children the life you weren’t able to have, that means the whole world and more.

Vi toys around with the idea of asking you again, about the possibility of starting your family as soon as possible. You’ve been together for ten years and married for two, and life has never been as perfect as this.

You’re both doing well at work, bills are being paid on time and there’s even some savings in your joint account. Even savings to potentially look into starting something if that is what you want.

You’re swaying around the kitchen, speakers blasting your playlist as you cook up dinner for tonight. You’ve settled on a simple pasta dish, warm and spicy with delicious herbs. The sauce is bubbling away on the stove and your hips follow the stir of your wooden spoon. You bring the spoon up to your lips, blow gently before having a taste. A hum leaves your lips as your eyes flutter shut, pleased with what you’re creating.

Vi’s enchanted by you and one might call her silly, to be captivated by you merely making dinner. But it’s the mere act of it, the domesticity of it all and how you show your love through everything you do. Even if it’s cooking a dish that you’ve both eaten a hundred times before.

That’s what being in love is and Vi is greedy to share that with someone who’s both her and you.

“Taste this for me?” You ask, facing where she’s sat at the kitchen island. Vi’s quick to hop off her stool and make her way towards you. Her arms encircle you the moment she gets close and your smile brightens at the touch. You lift the spoon up to her lips and even though she knows it’s delicious, Vi goes in for a taste. She mimics your pleased hum from before, swaying you to the slow beat of the song that now plays.

“Babe, you crush it every time,” Vi reveres, causing you to roll your eyes fondly. “How do you do it? Were you a famous chef in your past life or what?”

“It’s pasta sauce,” you respond, voice deadpan but expression vibrant. “The same pasta sauce we’ve been making for five years and can make with our eyes closed.” You turn around in her arms so you can attend to the sauce, Vi taking this opportunity to latch onto your back. She nuzzles into the curve of your neck, pressing a kiss into the sensitive spot there just so she can feel you shiver. “It’s hardly Michelin star worthy.” You pause. “Wait, can dishes be given Michelin stars?”

“Fuck if I know,” Vi murmurs, hooking her chin over your shoulder and settling in. From here, she can see a pot full of water boiling for pasta and the sauce thickening nicely in its pan. “So I want to talk to you about something.”

“We can’t go to the water park next week,” you say, amused. “We’ve had this discussion like six times and as much as I would like to go and hit the wave pool, there’s no—”

The laughter that bursts out of Vi’s mouth is enough to hurt her chest. But it doesn’t stop her from cackling, burying her head into your shoulder in an attempt to muffle how loud she is. She can feel the shaking of your body and hear your lovely laughter as you join her, fully leaning into her chest for support.

“No, you idiot,” Vi manages to say through her chuckles. “Oh fuck you, this was supposed to be a serious thing.”

“Why do you think I said what I said?” You retort playfully and Vi falls even more in love with you, as if that’s even possible. “But tell me what’s on your mind, baby. What’s going on?”

Vi takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second to gather herself. When she opens them, you’re turning off the burner for the sauce and reaching for the fettuccine to the side. Just as you’re pouring the pasta into the bubbling water, Vi’s thoughts spill out.

“I want to have a family with you.”

You go still for a moment, your arms poised above the boiling water with the empty pasta box in your hands. Vi’s unable to see your face but she isn’t necessarily worried about your reaction. It’s a conversation that you’ve had multiple times over the span of your relationship, but today is where you start taking steps towards putting it in action.

“Well, yes,” you start, placing the pasta box back on the counter. Then you’re turning in her arms so you’re facing each other again, your eyes peering into hers. “We’ve spoken countless times about this.” You smooth your hands over the rounds of her shoulders, your face soft. “I’m still very much onboard with this because I want to have a family with you too. But I’m guessing you want to talk about a timeline.”

Vi nods, momentarily speechless because you always just get her, even without her having to say anything. She pulls you away from the stove to sit you on one of the kitchen island’s stools. She notes how you eye the pasta and makes a mental note to attend to the pot after five minutes.

“We always did say that we’d really start considering it once we’ve gotten our lives sorted,” Vi says, standing between your thighs. “And I’d say that our lives are pretty solid. We’re no longer in debt and we’ve got a decent amount saved away.” Her fingers play with your hair, causing you to lean into her touch. “So I thought that now would be a good time to try.” Vi then shakes her head. “Obviously, it’s your choice because it’s your body and I’d never want to pressure you into doing anything because of me and—”

Vi doesn’t notice she’s rambling until you’re pressing your finger against her lips, fond amusement colouring your features.

“I married a good woman,” you say, so tender that Vi feels her heart swell so much that it hurts. It presses against her ribs, pushes up on her lungs making her breathless. It makes her cling to you, hiding her head into the curve of your shoulder. Your hands come around to run soothingly down her back and she melts. “I know it's my choice, baby. You've never made me feel like it wasn't.”

Despite Vi knowing that, the relief that hits her is cool and instant. It's always nice to hear that she isn't pressuring you; that she's allowing you to make your own choices regardless of what she wants.

“I've always wanted to have children with you,” you continue, still running soothing patterns down her back. “That's something that has never changed and probably never will.” You then lean back and Vi's graced with the excitement in your beautiful eyes. “I imagine a little kid who's a mixture of me and you. Maybe my hair and your eyes or vice versa.”

“I hope they get your personality,” Vi says softly. “That they get your kindness and empathy. Your patience and wisdom.”

You laugh quietly, closing your eyes to hide from the blinding of Vi's earnest gaze. You're embarrassed, she can tell, and that makes this moment all the sweeter.

“Well, I hope they get your strength and conviction,” you reply, tilting your head up so the tip of your nose catches the softness of Vi's cheek. “That they get your loyalty and ambition. Your sympathy and empathy.”

Vi's cheeks burn at the compliments you dress her in. Compliments that you would call truths because that's how you see her. Even under all the mess and mistakes, you see the diamonds that rest beneath the dirt.

She'll never understand why someone as special as you forever wants to be with her.

“So…what are you thinking?” Vi asks, eager to see where your head’s at. She watches as you purse your lips with a hum, eyes rolling upwards to stare at the ceiling in thought. Then you’re looking back at her with a smile and that’s how Vi finds her answer.

“Really?” Vi has to double check, to be sure that you’re both on the same page; that this is what you want to do from this moment.

“I’ve been wanting to suggest it for a while but—Violet!” You exclaim out of surprise, laughter startled from you when Vi pulls you in for a tight hug. But your arms are wrapping around her instantly, holding on with a solid grip.

“Thank you,” Vi whispers into your neck, planting a delicate kiss over your pulse. “Thank you so much.”

“No need to thank me,” you say quietly, returning the kiss to the curve of her ear. “I want this too.”

Vi nods and gives you a firm squeeze before pulling away, but not too far so she can still keep you in her arms. She’s so overwhelmed; there’s so much she wants to say but all of it is tied at the back of her throat. The words aren’t coherent but they have meaning and Vi will try all she can to convey how precious that meaning is.

“Okay so,” you begin after you both sit in relaxed silence for a while. “I love you so much and you’re my everything but if that pasta’s mushy, I’ll never forgive you.”

“You lie,” Vi replies, nuzzling at your cheek. “You love me too much to hate me.”

“But I love pasta more,” you tease, your soft laughs muted by the gentle press of Vi’s lips against yours.

The pasta has gone soft but you don’t seem to mind, all too distracted by Vi's sweet kisses.

“So you’re officially trying for kids now?”” Jinx says one afternoon in the small cafe they often frequent. It's raining outside and there's a chill in the air that seeps into your bones and makes you want to stay in bed. That's where Vi wishes she was now, all curled up underneath the sheets with you.

“Yeah, we had a proper talk about it a few days ago,” Vi says. “Not that all the other talks weren't proper but our plans didn't have a start date.” She swirls the remaining dregs of coffee in her mug. “Now we're both ready and soon there's gonna be a kid in the picture.”

Jinx hums, taking a sip of whatever iced concoction she's gotten today. “I mean, it's a big thing,” she says around her straw. “Bringing a small human into the world. Plus babies are kinda gross with their uncontrollable bowel movements.” Her nose scrunches up. “Not to mention the crying and screaming and inability to talk for the first two years.”

Vi shrugs. “Yeah, but I don't give a shit about any of that.”

“Well, duh. Because you're with someone who's gonna make it worthwhile,” Jinx replies matter-of-factly. “It's kind of like being in love with the person of your dreams makes you more tolerable to things. Shocker.”

“You're already falling into your Cynical Aunt role.” Vi says, deadpan but smiles when Jinx chuckles.

“Don't get me wrong, I'm gonna love the shit out of that little goober,” Jinx says strongly. “Gonna be the best auntie in the world. Much better than Caitlyn or Mel, that's for sure.”

Vi makes a doubtful expression, an eyebrow raised, and raises her hands to placate when Jinx aims her butter knife at her.

“No, you'll be great,” Vi tells her and despite their jokes, she means it. She sees how Jinx is with kids; how she may not seem interested at first but then slowly opens up. Not to say that she connects with every child but when Jinx cares, she cares with her entire heart. So Vi knows that her children will be loved.

Jinx eyes her and takes another sip of her drink before saying, “There's something on your mind.”

Vi huffs. “How can you tell?”

“I'm your sister, we grew up together,” Jinx lists off. “I mean, ignore the fact that we didn't talk for seven years but I know you.” She finishes off her glass and pushes it to the side. “What's going on?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Vi chuckles, running a hand through her hair, before leaning back in her seat.

“I just…worry that I may not be a good parent.” She confesses after a moment.

“Why?” Jinx asks straight away, not giving Vi the time to wallow too deeply.

“Because…I mean, look what happened with us,” Vi says, gesturing between them. “I left you alone for seven years over a misunderstanding that took ages to fix. I was supposed to be there for you when our parents died. When Vander died and I…” Vi stops for a second, a heavy knot in her throat. “...I wasn't there and I'm just scared that I'm gonna fuck all of this up.”

Jinx stares at her for a bit, her expression unreadable, before she gives a big eye roll.

“You're so stupid,” she says loudly.

“Gee thanks.” Vi replies.

“You're so stupid because I don't think you realise how good of a big sister you were,” Jinx continues. “How good of a big sister you are. Life sucked for us for a long time, Vi. Especially after our parents and Vander died. Then the hits kept on coming and we had no say in how we survived for a long time. Yes, we got separated and yes, it made me so fucking mad at you, but you came back for me.” She takes a deep breath. “If we could redo the past, we would. But we can't. But things have been fixed and you've shown me time and time how capable you are.” She then laughs. “I mean, you've been in a committed relationship for twelve years, Vi. Most people don't last up to the five month mark.”

Vi tries to ignore the sting behind her eyes, the tears that slowly blur her vision.

“Plus you guys are totally in love,” Jinx says, a slight smile curving her lips. “It's absolutely nauseating but it's also kinda beautiful. You'll make a really good parent, Vi. You got the best of mom and our dads. And your partner kicks ass and is one of the best people I've ever met so…” Jinx shrugs. “Your children are gonna be so lucky to have you two as parents.”

There’s then a lull that falls between them and Vi's trying so hard not to cry. So she swallows back the knot in her throat, chasing it away with her last bit of coffee.

“Saying all of that must have driven you nuts,” Vi jokes weakly, reaching out to give Jinx's hand a grateful squeeze.

“Yeah, I feel gross and need to take a shower,” Jinx jokes in return, weak too and she squeezes Vi's hand just as tight. “Consider that your birthday and Christmas gift.”

Vi laughs loudly, eyes crinkling and mouth wide with the joy she feels.

“Fair enough.” She concedes, knowing damn well Jinx will surprise her with a homemade gift regardless.

“...So, gonna go home and blast your baby batter into—?”

“Jinx.”

A week or two pass after those conversations are held. Life maintains its norm, leaving you and Vi to continue your existence in its blissful way. It's comforting as it is confusing, because Vi knows that everything’s on the table now. Left wide open for the both of you to bask at.

Vi waits for your move, watches you with a keen eye as you drift throughout the days. She cooks the both of you dinner every other night, picks you up from work every day without fail and holds you close at night so you fall asleep. She does what she knows to do, does it because it has that essence of normalcy.

But that doesn't stop the urges from arising. It doesn't halt the need that bubbles in her stomach every time she sees you. It's overpowering, overwhelmingly so, and Vi fails to understand it until one late evening.

You're curled up beneath Vi’s arm as a movie plays on the television. It's a standard comedy, nothing utterly hilarious but enough to pull a few chuckles from both of you. Vi has hit optimal relaxation, all loose and soft due to you being so close. She can smell the scent of your body wash, drops her face into your hair so she can inhale what lies there. Your shampoo and something so uniquely you.

Her focus has since shifted from the movie, all of it on you as she notes how you’re barely paying attention to the screen. You’ve got this faraway look in your eyes, seemingly lost in thought and Vi wonders what's going through that pretty head of yours.

Then you do something unexpected; you shift a hand towards your stomach and…gently rub at it. The arc of your hand graceful as you follow the slope of your covered flesh. It looks soothing, similar to how you rub Vi's muscles on the days the flare-up of old injuries is too much. But it's also different and Vi's quick to notice it; she sees how your hand comes to lay at your lower stomach and—

Oh.

Vi's suddenly feeling a bit flustered.

A minute goes by, slowly ticking, and Vi tries not to give herself away. She tries not to reveal how the simple act of you rubbing your stomach has her heating up. How she's instantly imagining your stomach round with her child and the way your hand would look caressing the bump.

So tender, so gentle.

Something hot within Vi stirs, causing her to grow a bit restless. The movie captures her attention for a bit, but it hardly does much. Especially when you're pressed into her, still rubbing at your stomach and fuck, her sweatpants feel a little tight.

Because it isn't only about your stomach growing with life inside you. It's also about the transformation you'll grow through. How you'll get softer, how your scent will become a little milkier. How your breasts will swell in preparation and how you'd be a stunning image of how you belong to.

Vi.

Because it's Vi who'll do that to you; it's her who will fuck you full until you can't take anymore. It's Vi who will come and come and come in you until it takes and she sees the fruits of her labour.

It's her who'll…who'll breed you until you’re tongue's tied and your body's a wreck.

So beautiful and pilant and hers.

“...Vi?” Your voice calls her home, like a siren's song, and she's retrieved from her debauched thoughts. “Vi, sweetheart, the movie's done.”

Vi blinks at the television, the credits rolling down the dark screen. How long had she been spacing out for.

“Oh,” she says lamely and you chuckle, standing up from the couch. You tug at her arm, smiling tiredly, as you tilt your body towards the bedroom.

“I'm sleepy,” you say, giving one more tug before Vi’s standing on her feet. “Let's go to bed, we've got work in the morning.”

“Uh huh,” is all Vi can manage as she allows you to lead her to your bedroom.

Something new has clicked in her brain.

Something deep and primal at its core.

...She cannot talk to Jinx about this.

[slayfics]

Katsuki buys you flowers.

900 words

Katsuki sighed in annoyance as you scrolled through a photo album on your phone, sitting across from him at the local cafe.

"Just delete the whole thing damn it," he stated.

"I can't, I have to look at them each one last time," you protested.

The album was a collection of all the photos taken with you and your now ex-boyfriend.

Katsuki watched bitterly as you scrolled past each photo. The way you'd zoom in and gaze at the image with wistfulness in your eyes made him sick.

"Fuck this," he exclaimed and reached over the cafe table to snatch your phone out of your hand.

"Hey!" you yelled but did little to fight Katsuki for the phone back knowing you'd lose that battle.

"Don't whine. I'm doing you a favor. You don't need to look one more second at this jackass," he said deleting the whole folder of memories. "If you keep doing that, you're going to forget why you left his sorry ass in the first place."

"I don't think that's likely. Two things can be true at once Katsuki. I can enjoy all those old memories and still feel I made the right decision to leave," you argued.

"You say that now, but I know the second he shows up with flowers begging for forgiveness your ass might feel differently," Katsuki predicted.

"That would be the first," you scoffed.

"What?" Katsuki asked gazing up from your phone.

"That would be the first. He never bought me flowers." You stated

"You're fucking joking me," Katsuki said his eyebrows scrunching together.

"Nope," you confirmed.

"All those fucking years you were together, and he couldn't have been bothered to even do that?!" Katsuki rubbed the bridge of his nose, "That's it I'm deleting his number too," He said scrolling over to your contacts on your phone.

"Katsuki!" you yelled in protest.

"Don't Katsuki me! That ass wipe doesn't deserve to take up a spot in your phone." He declared. "What the hell did he even do for you?"

"We would go out to eat all the time, at nice restaurants," you answered.

"Not good enough," Katsuki stated.

"What do you mean not good enough?" You asked.

"That idiot loved fancy shit like that, but do you? How many of those dinners were because he wanted to treat you? Probably none. Those dinners were something HE wanted to go do, not you. Fucker doesn't even know you. You'd prefer a home-cooked meal where you can be comfy in your PJs and dance to whatever dumb song you're obsessed with that week in the kitchen. Don't even try to tell me I'm wrong." Katsuki explained. 

"You're right," You agreed. "But he didn't know how to cook, and my songs aren't dumb!"

Katsuki blinked at you lost for words, a sharp exhale coming from him in utter disbelief that you spent so long with this man. "That's it, get up. We're leaving," Katsuki stated standing from the table and tossing your phone back at you.

"What? But I haven't finished my matcha," you said.

"So, we will take it to go. We're gonna stop by the grocery store, I'm gonna pick up stuff to make you a real meal, and you can show me how 'not' dumb your song pick of the week is." Katsuki decided.

You struggled to gather your things to follow him out in the hurry he was in.

Exiting the cafe Katsuki was holding the door open for you in his car,. "Such a gentlemen," you teased.

"Well, someone has to show you what that looks like," he stated, shutting the door after you got in.  

Katsuki drove you both to the nearest grocery store, "Stay here," he instructed when he parked.

"Hu? No, I'll go in with you." You said unbuckling your seatbelt.

"I said stay here. I won’t be long," he said firmly.

"Alright fine," you said waving your arms up and refusing to fight with him.

Katsuki left the car and made his way into the store. You pulled out your phone to pass the time while waiting for him.

A void grew in your stomach at realizing Katsuki had indeed erased all the whole album of pictures with your ex-boyfriend. Banishing the years you spent with him into the past. Only your memory serves you now as a reminder of the time shared together.

In a desperate attempt to salvage some memories you wanted to keep, you navigated over to your recently deleted folder. Only to see that Katsuki had deleted that too.

Photos and contact numbers were deleted from your phone, it was as though your ex never even existed. Just as your eyes began to sting with the threat of tears, the driver's door flew open.

Katsuki tossed something into your lap, “here.”

You looked down to take in the sight of a fresh bouquet in your lap. The tears that threatened to fall from sadness broke through.  Although the sadness behind them had been banished. Replaced by a fresher feeling of appreciation.

“Hah? Don’t get all teary eyed on me damn it,” Katsuki complained, tossing a few grocery bags into the back.

You watched his swift movements and couldn’t help but think, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing your ex was exiled into the past.

“I got enough to make a decent meal. You ready to go?” Katsuki asked.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you said wiping a stray tear and smiling for the first time in a long time.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialsapphire @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3 @bythevay

[nerdy-novelist017]

SFW Alphabet (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

First time making one of these and this was so much fun! I took a bit of creative liberty in order to dive into Benny's past a bit so I hope it doesn't feel OOC. Please let me know if you love it! This is paired with my Benny x Bunny series! 🐰

This is so Work Song by Hozier coded and I will NOT be apologizing for it ;)

A= Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Benny shows affection through acts of service. He wants to take care of you so he's always doing things to help you out. Your car is making a rattling noise? He'll take a look at it. Your feet are sore from walking around in your heels all day? He'll carry you on his back the rest of the way. You try to carry something heavy? Not on his watch. A customer at work was rude to you? Consider it handled. He has your back in everything.

B= Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start)

You are his absolute best friend. Benny doesn't have many friends and he doesn't make them easily. When Benny loves, he loves fiercely. His friends are his family and he'd kill for them.

C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Benny ALWAYS has a hand on you. Whether it's just a hand on your thigh if you're sitting beside him or an arm slung around your shoulders or his hands wrapped around your waist if you're standing in front of him, he's always touching you somehow. There's a few reasons he does this: he likes having you nearby in case some trouble starts and he can protect you. He wants to show everyone nearby that you are his and only his. But most importantly, he likes having you there to ground him. You're his anchor when he feels himself losing control of his anger.

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Benny is not much help when it comes to cooking and cleaning. In fact, he does more harm than good when the stove is involved. You almost always end up having to shoo him away, telling him to go mow the lawn or fix the leaky pipe in the bathroom. Sometimes though, he likes to lean against the fridge and keep you company while you bake, totally enamored by how beautiful you are when you concentrate on things you love doing.

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

You are Benny's whole world, but that doesn't mean he is immune to doubts. Not about you, never about you. They're about himself. He gets in his own head and those poisonous thoughts of feeling inferior and ignominious run wild. Sometimes he wonders why you're even with him. He's not good enough for you, how could he be? You're so perfect and sweet and pure and he's . . . so corrupted, so rough.

You're always so quick to correct him when he voices these thoughts, telling him that you love him and that means all of him, including vices, bad habits and flaws.

F= Fiance (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Are we kidding? Benny knew he wanted to marry you after only spending a few hours in your presence. He's so whipped, so drunk on love that he goes out and buys a ring the very next day.

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Looking at someone like Benny with his tattoos and leather jacket and loud motorcycle, most people wouldn't assume he could be gentle. Benny didn't even know he could love someone to the point of changing for them until he met you. He thought he was a lost cause, a destitute brawler who nobody could love - hell, his own family didn't even love him.

But you did somehow, and Benny doesn't know if he should laugh or cry at that. He'd never, never expected to be blessed with someone as kind and supportive as you in his life and for that, he'd do anything for. He'd touch you gently, hands exploring your curves at night. He'd whisper softly into your ear as you nodded off into dreamland beside him. And he knew that's what you needed, so he'd provide it in any aspect he could, private or public. He didn't care if the guys teased him about it either.

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)

Any excuse to touch you is how he works! He loves feeling your slight figure tucked so completely against his own. You're the perfect height for him to rest his chin on the top of your head, your face pressed against his broad chest, his hands locking together around your waist. It's like you were a lock and he was the key - molded together perfectly.

I= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

The L-word is very foreign to Benny. He didn't hear it much when he was growing up and he's said it to others even less. In fact, he's never told a girl that he loved them, so for him to be that vulnerable with you is a huge deal.

Those life-changing three words would probably just come out of him before he even realized it himself. It would be after he had a bad day, problems with the club and new members becoming more antagonizing. He'd park his bike out front, anger disappearing the moment he catches sight of you in the front yard, on your hands and knees, an assortment of small unplanted plants surrounding you.

He cuts the engine and approaches you, warmth spreading in his chest at the oversized sunhat you wear. You glance up at him and smile.

"Remember that butterfly I was telling you about yesterday?" you ask when he stands over you. "Well, I was reading up on them and I guess they really love these flowers. So I'm planting them for him. I hope he comes back and appreciates it."

And how can Benny's heart not melt at that? You were so damn cute and the way you viewed the world was unlike anything he'd ever known.

"I love you," he whispered, heart suddenly pounding at the recognition.

Your mouth falls open and you sit up a little straighter before smiling broadly at him. "Oh."

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they get jealous?)

Oh boy, Benny is a force to reckon with when he gets jealous. It doesn't happen often, surprising to say, but when it does . . . it's bad. He deals with his jealousy with his fists, much like how he deals with all other negative emotions. He's having a bad day already and someone at the bar tries grabbing your ass? Oh goodbye. He's dragging that man out the backdoor and going to teach him a lesson about touching what's his.

K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses with Benny are so intense. He kisses you like it's the last time he'll ever see you. And for all he knows, it could be. He lives a dangerous life and anything could happen to him. So he kisses you like he needs you to breathe. And he also loves to see your lips all swollen afterwards.

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

Benny came from a rough home and his childhood was very unpleasant, so the last thing on his mind is children. But that can be changed, he's very easily influenced by you. All you have to do is give him puppy eyes and the soft pouty-lip look and he'd consider just about anything.

M= Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

It's rare that Benny is still there when you wake up in the morning. He has a lot of trouble sleeping and usually ends up getting up early, leaving you to sleep as long as you can. You'll usually find him in the kitchen, already made a pot of coffee for you to wake up to.

But on those mornings when he does sleep in and you wake up to find his warm body tangled with yours? Those are the best. That's when you get that sweet side of Benny that nobody else is privy to. He'll run his thumb over your cheek, the early morning sunlight casting a beautiful glow over his face as his blue eyes roam over your face. He'll lean in, slowly peppering you with the softest kisses, one for your nose, one for your forehead, one for each of you cheeks, and the last one reserved for you lips.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights spent with Benny Cross are anything but ordinary. That's one of the things you love most about him, the spontaneity. You could be getting ready for bed and he'd come to you asking if you want to take a ride with him. Of course you say yes because every ride with him is an adventure. And you might just be driving around the city, under the streetlights or he might take you out into the country to look at the stars. Either way, he wants to make the most of it so he will always bring an extra jacket for you to stay out as long as possible.

O= Open (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or do they reveal little things slowly?)

Being vulnerable is very difficult for Benny. He wants to, believe him, but every negative memory he has beats down on him daily, so it will take a long time before he feels comfortable letting down his guard and breaking the toxic cycle that his parents burned into him. Your smile helps, your kind eyes, your petite hands squeezing his encouragingly.

P= Patience (How easily are they angered?)

Remember how he fights at the drop of a hat and his anger is easily triggered? Well, that doesn't apply to you. No, you rarely ever test his patience. The very few times you do, it's most likely because you're doing something that he thinks is too dangerous and you argue back because you don't like when he acts controlling. One thing leads to another and the more calm he remains, the more riled up you become so you end up being petty or bratty. Then, his patience is strained and he'll usually put his foot down and flat out refuse to cooperate with you anymore.

That usually leads to him receiving the silent treatment for a few hours, but you both usually make up before bed.

Q= Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail or forget the minor things?)

Benny has a lock-trap memory when it comes to something he actually cares about. In school, he struggled to do well on tests about subjects he found boring like math and English. But history and science, he excelled in.

If knowing you was a subject in school, he'd be valedictorian. He remembers everything you tell him, bringing it up in moments that shock you. He may not always seem like he's listening, but he is. He knows your schedule, your work drama, your favorite sweater. He makes mental notes of the way you like your coffee, what song gets you to dance in the kitchen while you cook, and what side of the sink you leave your stuff on. He loves the small details like how your laugh sounds different when it's just you and him and the way your face lights up when you see your favorite flowers. It's all very important to him.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment of your relationship?)

A day he thinks about a lot - especially when he's not in a good mood - is when you first moved in together and you wanted to bake him something to christen the kitchen. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed casually as you put on your apron and gathered the ingredients. You shot him a cheeky grin as you went to the record player, picking out an album that made your hips sway with the rhythm. He was perfectly content to stand there admiring, but you always had to involve him in some way or another so you tugged his arms gently, pulling him to the center of the kitchen and the two of you danced slowly, his hands pressed against the small of your back and yours wrapped around the back of his neck, foreheads touching.

He thinks about that night often, feeling so grateful that you chose him to spend the rest of your life with.

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

As you already know, Benny would die to protect you just as easily as he'd kill for you. You'd never need to worry about anything happening while he's there. He doesn't get intimidated by much and is always ready to throw a fist if someone threatened you. He's the definition of scary boyfriend privileges.

T= Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He thinks it's important for him to put a lot of consideration for you during your every day life, not just special occasions. You're always going out of your way to do something kind for others (even strangers) and he wants you to know that you deserve the same level of effort you provide.

He's not so great at remembering the dates and anniversaries, he's often times so busy that he doesn't know what day it is anyway so don't feel bad. But the dates he takes you on? Those are magical. He finds places that remind him of you and he points out details he thinks you'd like.

U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Benny and bad habits? That pairs like milk and cookies. Smoking, boarder line alcohol abuse, not getting enough sleep, fighting . . . the list goes on. But Johnny tells you that he sees a huge improvement since Benny's gotten together with you and you can't help but blush at that.

V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He isn't one to care much what other people think of him. He barely holds himself in high regards, why should it bother him if someone else does? He's used to getting the occasional glare shot at him by the pansies standing on their lawns as he rolls through the neighborhood on his Harley.

W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Benny used to be independent, even a little detached. But that all changed when he met you. You changed everything for him. He no longer had to go through life alone because you were there with your sweet smile and comforting words. You became the most important thing in his life. His world revolves around you.

X= Xtra )A random headcanon for them)

Benny came home one day to find you and a couple of your friends making jewelry. Friendship bracelets, you had informed him with a smile on your face. He just nodded, kissed the top of your head and continued on his way out the back door to hide in the garage.

The next day you had presented him with a tiny box all wrapped up in a pink bow, a brilliant smile to go with it. You told him it was special and just for him. He opened it carefully and his heart melted at the object inside. It was a bracelet, made with various shades of pink and white rope, a small B charm woven into the center, a bunny next to it. It was . . . one of the ugliest things he's ever seen, but he adored you so he told you he loved it. You practically bounced up and down with excitement as you helped him put it on.

The absolute razzing he took from the boys when he showed up with his bright pink friendship bracelet showing proudly on his wrist was worth it. He'd never take it off.

Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

There isn't much that you could do that Benny wouldn't like. Except when you do things that puts you in harms way like running to the store late at night without him or leaving the door unlocked when you're home alone. He sees it as unnecessary risk and he's tried talking to you many times about it.

Z= Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?

Benny has trouble sleeping, always has. Most of the time, you're asleep before he gets home despite your best efforts at trying to stay awake to greet him. He often finds you asleep on the couch, book forgotten in your lap. He'll carry you to bed, and crawl into it behind you. You snuggle up against him, muttering something incoherent and sighing contently before falling back to sleep and Benny felt a tenderness in his chest as he pulled you closer, wrapping the blankets over both of you.

-Tag List-

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[magnagaruzenmon]

Tomboy is the name of a song right?

Uh oh does Dino have a crush? Does my writing partner have a big crush? In all seriousness this was really cute. Okay Dino you’re kinda on a roll I’ll admit. Give a big thanks to @moonluvrrsworld for the idea

You wouldn’t call your marriage to Sohyun “arranged” per se, but it was definitely “encouraged.” You’d known each other your whole life, growing up as neighbors and later as classmates. Sohyun had always been more of a best friend than anything else, the type of person who’d sit with you on the roof of her house, sharing snacks while talking about the wild ideas of escaping to some far-off place. She kept her hair short, dressed simply, and carried herself with a straightforwardness that made her seem more like an equal than someone you’d ever imagine dating—let alone marrying.

So, when your parents sat you down for “the talk” and floated the idea, you didn’t know how to process it. It felt absurd, even laughable. But somehow, it all happened—her parents agreeing, your families eagerly planning, and then the proposal. You’ll never forget how she answered, her expression calm as ever, a hint of amusement in her eyes:

“Well, if it makes everyone happy, sure.”

It wasn’t exactly a declaration of love, but it wasn’t a rejection either. You still don’t know why she agreed—whether out of obligation, curiosity, or something else entirely. The wedding was a small affair something both of you demanded of the other, making it seem more like an elopement than a grand ceremony and declaring of love for one another to hammer this home both of you wore suits to the affair. It bothered your parents but you wanted Sohyun to be comfortable and happy, and that’s what made her comfortable and happy.

The first year of married life wasn’t what you’d call a whirlwind romance. It was… practical. Strangely, the challenges weren’t about you two as a couple. You didn’t fight over finances or argue over big-ticket issues like religion, politics, or even how to raise hypothetical kids. On the contrary, you two fell into an easy rhythm, dividing chores, coordinating schedules, and sharing meals without much fuss. Your talent for domestic life had you spearheading a lot of the cooking and cleaning while she made up for it in other ways. She lets you enjoy your hobbies and passion rather freely. You guys worked well together and complimented each other surprisingly well, so much so that your friends who saw your life at home were often jealous of how well the two of you clicked in each other’s lives.

No, the real problems came from the outside. Sorting out the paperwork for name changes and passports was a bureaucratic nightmare, the kind of thing no one warns you about. That’s why your honeymoon plans fell through—months after the wedding, you were still stuck in government offices, navigating endless forms and regulations. Then there were the awkward conversations with friends who couldn’t wrap their heads around your marriage, some of them outright questioning if it was even real. “So… are you guys actually in love, or is this like… a thing your families did?” they’d ask, their voices dripping with skepticism.

Through it all, Sohyun stayed steady. She had a way of brushing off the chaos with her bright, easy smile, grounding you whenever things got overwhelming. You’d wake up to that smile every morning, her hair slightly mussed, her voice soft as she greeted you. It was comforting, more than you ever realized you needed.

But lately, you’ve noticed something different about her. Subtle changes in her demeanor, like the way she lingers when you’re talking, her gaze warmer, more searching. She’s started wearing her hair longer, experimenting with little touches of makeup, and choosing outfits that feel just a bit more… deliberate. There’s an unspoken tension, an energy that wasn’t there before, as though she’s navigating unfamiliar territory within herself—and with you.

It’s nothing dramatic, but it’s enough to make you wonder. Was this marriage truly just an arrangement to her, or is she beginning to see you differently too?

When you asked about her hair all she could really say was, “Oh it was time for a change, yadda yadda. Bla bla bla,” you took it in stride but then the next change was a bit more noticeable. Dresses and more feminine patterns in her clothes started cropping up. Baggy t-shirts became billowing blouses with brazen blazers that complimented the figure you knew she had but never really paid mind to. Again when most of your previous conversation revolved around the literary merits of Orwell or Twain you never considered the body beneath the brain, but now you were and she had a marvelous figure.

The next major thing you noticed was when the two of you were discussing honeymoon locales and she suggested Argentina you were surprised.

“Sohyun you hate the heat and it's like 28C there right now,” you say.

Her response was again “I just wanted to change things up a bit. It's been super gloomy and I wanna explore a new place that's not as cold,”

You glance over at Sohyun as the plane levels out, the cabin lights dimming to a soft, ambient glow. She’s flipping through the in-flight magazine, a faint smile playing on her lips. Her hair, now long enough to frame her face, catches the light from the small reading lamp, giving her an almost ethereal glow.

“You know,” you say, stretching your legs under the cramped seat, “this might be the first time I’ve seen you look genuinely excited about a trip.”

Sohyun tilts her head, smirking. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m always excited about trips.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, sure. Like that time we went camping, and you spent three hours arguing with a squirrel over your trail mix?”

“That squirrel started it,” she says, deadpan, but her smile widens. She nudges your arm with her elbow, her tone dropping into something teasing. “Besides, you’re the one who packed gourmet cheese for a hike. Who does that?”

“Someone who has taste,” you counter, leaning slightly closer. “Not that you’d know much about that, considering you still put ketchup on your eggs.”

Her mock gasp is loud enough to turn a few heads. “Excuse me, Mr. High Standards. If you weren't my husband, I’d have you escorted off this plane for such slander.”

“Well, good thing you are,” you shoot back, “because you’d miss me too much otherwise.”

The playful banter hangs in the air for a moment before Sohyun bursts into laughter, a sound that’s rich and unguarded. You’ve heard her laugh a thousand times before—on rooftops, in late-night study sessions, over inside jokes—but now it’s different. The husky warmth of it wraps around you, sinking deep into your chest. It feels like home and adventure all at once, and you find yourself leaning into it without even realizing it.

“You’re so full of yourself,” she says, shaking her head but still smiling.

“Comes with the territory,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

But it’s hard to play it cool when her voice follows—low, velvety, teasing. There’s something about it that catches you off guard every time, like the first note of your favorite song. Lately, it’s been happening more often: the way her words linger in your mind long after she’s spoken, the way her laugh stays with you like a melody you can’t shake.

Sohyun folds the magazine and tucks it into the seat pocket, turning fully toward you now. Her gaze is steady but softer than you’re used to, and it catches you off guard. “You know,” she says, her voice quieter but no less playful, “I think this is the first trip we’ve taken where we actually feel like a couple. Not roommates, not friends, but… a couple.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in her tone. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“A good thing,” she says immediately, her smile turning into something warmer, almost shy. “A very good thing.”

The flight attendant interrupts the moment, offering drinks and snacks, and Sohyun orders a glass of white wine. You follow suit, and when the glasses arrive, she holds hers up in a small toast.

“To new places,” she says, clinking her glass against yours.

“And new beginnings,” you add, meeting her gaze.

She takes a sip, then smirks over the rim of her glass. “You’re getting better at this whole romance thing, you know.”

“I learn from the best,” you reply, and for once, you mean it entirely.

She laughs again, that bright, husky sound pulling you in like a tide. It’s something you never thought much about before, but now you can’t get enough of it. The sound, the way her lips curl just slightly at the edges—it’s all starting to feel dangerously enchanting.

As the plane hums steadily toward Argentina, the conversation drifts back to familiar banter, but the undertone of something more lingers. For the first time, you’re not just comfortable—you’re captivated. This feels like the start of something neither of you saw coming, but both of you are ready for.

After a long flight and a quick check-in at the resort, exhaustion overtakes both of you. The room is cozy and bright, with a balcony that offers a sweeping view of the ocean. You barely have time to take it all in before you crash onto the bed, the travel fatigue winning out.

When you wake up, it’s to the sound of waves crashing faintly in the distance and the soft rustle of movement nearby. You blink a few times, the sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains, and sit up groggily. That’s when you see her.

Sohyun stands near the sliding doors to the balcony, adjusting the strap of a two-piece bathing suit—a pale lavender color that complements her complexion perfectly. For a moment, you think you’re still dreaming. Your brain struggles to reconcile this image with the Sohyun you’ve always known: the one who usually opted for modest one-piece swimsuits or an oversized T-shirt and trunks when the two of you swam together.

“Holy fuck,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

She turns, startled at first, then breaks into that familiar, warm smile of hers. Her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, and the sunlight streaming in from behind her gives her an almost radiant glow. But it’s her figure that truly has your attention—something you’d always known was there but had never really noticed until now. It’s not just the bathing suit; it’s the confidence she carries, the way she holds herself.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Sohyun asks, her voice calm, like she hasn’t just completely turned your world upside down.

You clear your throat, feeling the heat rise to your face. “It’s just… I’ve never seen you in something so bold.”

Her smile widens, and she steps closer, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. “Do you like it?” she asks, tilting her head slightly, her tone teasing but curious.

You nod, but words fail you for a moment. A thousand thoughts race through your mind, most of them not entirely innocent. You’d never thought of her this way before—not quite like this. She’s always been beautiful, yes, but this is different. It’s as though seeing her like this has unlocked something in you, a wave of emotions you weren’t prepared for.

“I—uh—yeah,” you manage, your voice cracking slightly. “You look amazing.”

She laughs, a low, husky sound that pulls at something deep inside you. “Well, thank you. I figured since we’re on vacation, I’d try something new.”

“It suits you,” you say quickly, your eyes flicking away briefly, but they find their way back to her almost immediately.

Sohyun steps closer again, now standing right in front of you. She places a hand on your shoulder, her touch light but grounding. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen me before,” she teases, her eyes twinkling.

“I feel like I haven’t,” you admit softly, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

She blinks at you, surprised by your candor, but her expression softens. “Well,” she says, her voice dropping just slightly, “I’m glad I could surprise you.”

There’s a pause, charged with something new and electric. She doesn’t pull away, and neither do you. For the first time, you’re not just looking at Sohyun—you’re seeing her, really seeing her.

Before the moment can stretch too far, she steps back with a playful grin. “Come on, get changed,” she says, her tone light again. “The beach isn’t going to wait forever.”

As she walks away, you watch her go, your mind still swirling with everything you’ve just realized. You’ve always known Sohyun was your best friend, your partner, the person you trusted most in the world. But now, she’s something more, something you’re just beginning to understand.

You take a deep breath, standing to find your swim trunks. Whatever this vacation holds, you have a feeling it’s going to change things—for the better. As you get changed you notice that you have a rock-hard erection and part of you feels shame. Here you are what’s supposed to be a trip with your wife and your body is festering this itch inside of you. Granted it’s been hard for the two of you to get alone time together because of the amount of work that plagued the two of you in the first year of your marriage so you couldn’t really properly release but still this was a lovey-dovey trip no time for impure indecent thoughts. Sohyun was better than that you were better than that… you hoped.

The sun is high by the time you step onto the beach, the golden sand warm beneath your feet. The breeze carries the scent of saltwater and the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Sohyun walks ahead of you, her lavender bathing suit catching the sunlight in a way that makes her seem almost otherworldly.

She turns back, shielding her eyes with one hand. “You’re so slow,” she teases, her voice laced with playful impatience. “I thought you were the athletic one.”

“Just taking it all in,” you reply, though you’re pretty sure you’re not talking about the scenery.

Sohyun rolls her eyes but smiles, her steps light and carefree as she leads you toward a quieter spot near the water. When she sets down her beach bag, she stretches her arms above her head, and you catch yourself staring at the curve of her waist, the way the movement emphasizes her figure.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. This is Sohyun—your best friend, your wife. The person who once dared you to eat an entire raw onion on a bet. The same person who fell asleep on your shoulder during countless movie nights. But now, as she pulls her hair into a loose ponytail and settles onto the towel, she feels like someone entirely new.

She glances up at you, catching you mid-thought. “Why are you just standing there?” she asks, patting the spot beside her.

You sit down, the sand warm beneath you, and she leans back on her elbows, her face turned toward the ocean. There’s something so effortless about her, like she belongs here under the sun, surrounded by beauty.

“Do you remember when we used to talk about running away to the beach when we were kids?” she asks, her voice soft but filled with a certain wistfulness.

“Yeah,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “I think your plan involved us becoming pirates or something equally ridiculous.”

She laughs, the sound low and husky, and it sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. “It wasn’t ridiculous. I’d make an excellent pirate.”

You can’t help but grin. “You’re too nice to be a pirate. You’d probably end up apologizing to everyone you robbed.”

“Maybe,” she says, turning to look at you. Her smile lingers, but her eyes hold a warmth that makes your heart stutter. “But you’d make a good first mate. You’ve always had my back, after all.”

The weight of her words settles between you, and for a moment, you’re both quiet, the sound of the waves filling the space. Then, Sohyun shifts closer, her shoulder brushing against yours.

“Can you put some sunscreen on my back?” she asks, holding out the bottle.

“Uh, sure,” you say, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens.

She turns, pulling her ponytail to the side, and you carefully apply the sunscreen, your hands moving over her skin. It’s nothing you haven’t done before, but it feels different now. You’re hyper-aware of the softness of her skin, the way her muscles move slightly under your touch.

“Thanks,” she says, glancing over her shoulder with a smile that feels just a little too knowing.

When she turns back around, she props herself up on her elbows again, her expression light but teasing. “You’re staring again,” she says, a playful lilt in her voice.

“I’m not staring,” you protest, though you know it’s a lie.

“You are,” she insists, her grin widening. “It’s okay, though. I don’t mind.”

Her boldness catches you off guard, and you’re not sure how to respond. Sohyun has always been confident, but this—this playful, flirtatious side—is new. And it’s doing things to you that you’re not entirely prepared for.

She leans closer, her voice dropping to a soft murmur. “You know, you’re allowed to compliment your wife. It’s kind of expected, actually.”

“You’re beautiful,” you say before you can stop yourself.

Her eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, you think you’ve overstepped. But then her cheeks flush, and she bites her lip, her smile turning shy in a way that’s both endearing and completely captivating.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice softer now.

As the day goes on, she continues to surprise you. The way she walks along the shoreline, letting the waves lap at her feet, her laughter ringing out when she splashes water at you. The way she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, her smile both teasing and tender.

By the time the sun begins to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you realize something has shifted. The image of Sohyun you’ve carried for so long—your best friend, your partner in crime—has started to transform. Now, you see her not just as your wife in name, but as someone who could truly hold your heart.

And the most surprising part? You’re starting to hope she feels the same way.

The two of you get back to your shared room. Sohyun says, “I’m gonna shower first unless you want to join me,” before enticingly wiggling her cute butt in front of you. At that point, the itch becomes overwhelming as you approach her. She smiles knowingly as you take your cock out. Sohyun’s eyes widened

“Oh I knew you had a nice cock but this was perfect for me,”

You look at her in. A lust-fueled haze, and she says, “Are you gonna fuck me because I really need it.”

Barely able to hold it in you plunged your cock inside of Sohyun.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of each other’s sexes you both cum violently as you bottom out

Sohyun screams as she squirts everywhere and her walls milk you rapaciously. Your dick wildly fills her womb with your seed as the two of you revel in orgasmic bliss.

“Fuck why haven’t we done that before?”

Feeling a bit flustered you respond, “Because I only thought we were friends, I didn’t even know you had this,” you spank her tight ass, and Sohyun moans erotically making you hard again, “or these,” you add massaging her voluptuous breasts. You begin ramming into her tight cavern again as she moans.

“Fuck if I knew you'd feel this good I'd have seduced you years ago,” Sohyun says as her eyes roll into the back of her head. She moans as her pussy sucks you in further.

“Fuck please fuck me harder,” she pleads as your rail her. Her walls tighten around your manhood as you watch her supple ass bounce and ripple with each thrust. Sohyun moans your name continuously as she takes you, and you take her.

“Ahh uhh,” she stammers and moans as you fuck her. Both of you are so far gone in lust that words could barely be found in the pleasure young two get from each other. As you pull her up from her bent position by her long hair something in you awakened as your wife came around your cock again.

With your other hand, you grab one of her breasts and massage the soft flesh. Sohyun moans as she's sent into another orgasm. She squirts all over you again.

You give her a bit of time to recover from her high as you remain buried in her cunt. She smiles as she's filled to the brim with you. She turns around and says, “Am I yours,”!you nod and say

“Of course,”

She smirks and says, “Good you're gonna fuck me every night from now on because I can't go back to masturbating alone especially when you have this nice a cock,”

With the image of your wife changed into this sultry vixen you asked what caused her to become this. She smiles lustfully and answers,

“Ive always been this, but you make me feel safe and comfortable being Sohyun the bro but also as Sohyun you're sexy wife. Being married to you has been a dream and I just wanted to show more of who I was to you,”

You smile as you kiss her. She smiles as she leads you to the bed and she gently pushes you down on it.

“I'm gonna ride you now,” she says emphatically. You groan as she hastily grinds on your crotch. You watch as her breasts bounce beautifully and she smiles at you. Instinctively you buck your hips but she stops you, “no no no. I'm in control. I control the tempo. I control the rhythm and I control when you cum.” she says sternly as she rolls and deliciously dances her hips over yours. She is unbearable tight as the pleasure melts your brain to where all you can think about is her.

You barely last a few minutes of this before you cum inside her again. Sohyun moans as you both come down from your shared highs before the two of them pass out on the bed. You hold her tight your grip gentle but possessive as you cling to each other you both drift off into dreams.

The sound of distant laughter and the smell of summer grass fill your senses. You’re back in the neighborhood park, where the sun is warm, and the sky is endlessly blue. A pair of small hands tugs at yours, pulling you toward the swings. It’s Sohyun, her short hair sticking out in every direction, her face flushed with excitement.

“Come on!” she says, her voice high-pitched and full of determination. “I want to swing higher than you this time!”

You let her drag you to the swings, laughing as she clambers onto one with all the grace of a kid who hasn’t yet figured out coordination. “You never win, you know,” you tease, taking the swing next to her.

“Not yet,” she shoots back, pumping her legs furiously.

The two of you race to see who can swing higher, her competitive grunts mixing with your laughter. Eventually, you both slow down, letting the swings sway gently as the golden light of the late afternoon bathes everything in a warm glow.

“Do you think we’ll always be friends?” she asks suddenly, her voice quieter now, almost shy.

“Of course,” you say without hesitation. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

She kicks her legs idly, her swing rocking back and forth. “Sometimes people grow up and stop being friends. That’s what my mom says.”

“Well, we won’t,” you declare firmly. “We’ll always stick together.”

She smiles at that, turning her head to look at you. There’s a seriousness in her eyes that’s unusual for a kid her age. “What if we get married? Then we’d have to stay together forever.”

The suggestion catches you off guard, and you burst out laughing. “Married? You and me?”

“Why not?” she says, crossing her arms. “You’re my best friend. And my mom says you should marry someone who makes you happy.”

You consider this, your legs scuffing lightly against the ground as your swing slows to a stop. “I guess that makes sense. But aren’t you supposed to, like… love the person you marry?”

She scrunches up her nose, clearly unimpressed with your reasoning. “Well, I love you, dummy. Don’t you love me?”

Her words hit you with the blunt honesty only a child can muster, and you feel your cheeks heat up. “Uh… yeah. I guess I do.”

“Then it’s settled,” she says with a decisive nod. “When we grow up, we’ll get married. And you can do all the cooking because you make better sandwiches than me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Fine. But only if you promise not to boss me around too much.”

“Deal,” she says, holding out her pinky. You loop your pinky with hers, sealing the pact.

As the memory begins to fade, you hear her voice one last time, soft and confident. “See? We’ll be together forever. You’ll see.”

You wake up with a start, the sound of waves crashing outside pulling you back to the present. For a moment, you lie there, the dream still vivid in your mind. The memory feels both distant and impossibly close, like a thread connecting the past to the present.

You glance to the side, where Sohyun is still asleep, her hair spread out across the pillow, her face peaceful in the soft morning light. The promise from that day echoes in your mind, and for the first time, you wonder if she remembers it too. Seeing the smile plastered on her sleeping face as you caress her shoulder tells you all you need to know. You cuddle closer and are surprised when she buries your half-erect cock in her sopping pussy she moans then says

“I want all of you all the time,” you moan as the two of you go back to sleep

You wake up to Sohyun’s lips pressed into yours as you feel something soft wrap around your cock as you cum. Your eyes focus on Sohyun staring at you with a lascivious glare as she feels your cum pour out.

“Good baby you're awake,” she says. Her eyes glazed over with desire.

“I wanted you to breed me. You have more in you right?” she says hungrily

Seeing her all on display for you makes incredibly hard for her. Seeing it as encouragement she mounts you happily. As she bottoms out on you you moan in pleasure. “Oh fuck honey you're so tight,” Sohyun smiles and you explode in her again. Sohyun feeling your release groans as you cum in her. She bends over to you and whispered

“I'm not birth control and today I'm not safe so I'm gonna get pregnant.”

Her words stir inside as the primal need to claim your woman overwhelmed your entire being your lips raise to meet hers finding yourself lost in a desperate messy lustful kiss that leaves the two of you breathless and hungry you two stare at each other as lust and live intertwine you say to

“God I love every part of you,” Sohyun smiles before responding.

“Oh you have then why didn't you make a move?” she asked

“Because we had been friends for so long. I thought you didn't like me, but you drive me wild Soho,” you say.

Your wife smiles as you ram into her. She groans as thrust in and out.

“You close baby?” you ask. Sohyun smiles as she caresses your face.

“Im always close for you baby,” she says before cumming violently all over your cock. You groan as you join her in another orgasm.

Hours later the two of you sit on the balcony of your resort suite exhausted , the warm night air wrapping around you like a blanket. The ocean stretches out endlessly before you, the waves glowing faintly under the moonlight. Sohyun has her feet propped up on the railing, her body relaxed, a glass of something tropical in her hand. She’s wearing a light sundress that flutters gently in the breeze, her hair loosely pinned back.

You sip your drink, watching her out of the corner of your eye. For what feels like the hundredth time on this trip, you’re struck by how different she seems—not just in how she looks, but in how she carries herself. There’s a confidence in her now, something bold and unshakable, and it’s left you feeling a little off-balance.

“Can I ask you something?” you say, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Of course,” she replies, glancing at you with a small smile.

“What’s with all this?” You gesture vaguely at her—her dress, her posture, everything. “I mean… why are you so seductive all of a sudden?”

Her smile widens, and she lets out a low, amused laugh that sends a shiver down your spine. “Seductive, huh?”

“I’m serious,” you say, though your tone is light. “You’ve always been confident, sure, but this… this is different. You’re different. And I don’t mean that in a bad way,” you add quickly. “It’s just… new.”

She sets her glass down, turning her body slightly to face you. For a moment, she studies you, her expression thoughtful. Then, she leans back, stretching her arms out along the back of her chair, her gaze flicking toward the horizon.

“It’s hard to explain,” she begins, her voice soft but steady. “But I guess… being married to you, living with you—it’s done something to me. It’s like it’s awakened this part of me I didn’t even know was there. This… primal femininity, I guess you could call it.”

You blink, surprised by her honesty. “Primal femininity?”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “I know it sounds weird. But it’s true. I’ve always been comfortable with who I am, you know? The short hair, the baggy clothes, the ‘one of the guys’ vibe—it’s always felt right to me. And it still does.” She pauses, glancing down at her hands. “But being with you… it’s like I’ve started to feel this other side of me, this softer, more feminine side. And I don’t mean in a ‘let’s conform to societal norms’ way,” she adds quickly, meeting your eyes. “It’s more personal than that. Like, you bring it out of me.”

Her words hit you harder than you expect, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to respond. “Me?” you manage.

She nods, her expression softening. “Yeah. You make me feel safe. Like I can just… be. And for the first time, I’m realizing that I can be all these things at once. The tomboy who’ll always beat you at Mario Kart and the woman who wants to wear a dress and flirt with her husband. They’re both me. And I like that.”

You stare at her, your heart doing something strange and uneven in your chest. “I had no idea I had that kind of effect on you.”

“Well, you do,” she says simply, her lips quirking into a teasing smile. “You’ve always seen me for who I really am, and that’s… freeing, you know? It makes me want to be even more of myself, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” you say quietly, your voice thick with emotion. “And for the record, I think both sides of you are amazing.”

Her smile softens, and she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “So, does that answer your question?”

“Yeah,” you say, a slow grin spreading across your face. “But I still reserve the right to be a little dazzled. You’ve been catching me off guard a lot lately.”

“Good,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “It’s about time I had the upper hand for once.”

You laugh, and she joins in, the sound light and easy. And as you sit there, talking and teasing each other under the stars, you realize just how much you love every part of her—past, present, and whatever comes next.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Die Happy - Sanji x Reader

SUMMARY: Sanji is disillusioned about your lack of interest in him. Someone like you could pick and choose among princes, kings and emperors. What's a measly cook to you? Nevertheless, his lovesick heart continuously rejoices when you choose him to waste time with.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.3k

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi

Part 2 -> "Maelstrom"

Sanji has never believed in ghouls, witches, faeries and the like. However, when he met you his belief began to shatter:

Like a dark sorceress covering the whole world with a curse, you lured all the influential, important men like fire does moths. At first, Sanji fooled himself that all those generals, merchants and noblemen only wanted something pretty to hang onto their shoulders but reality destroyed his comforting illusion when the said men offered riches most people couldn’t even fathom. If you asked them for an armada to sail to the Grand Line, they’d only ask what type of wood you’d prefer. Despite something akin to world domination lying at your fingertips, you always laughed those offers off, telling your powerful suitors that you would think about their words and get back to them.

Sanji once asked whether you’re truly considering marrying one of the generals or kings. Some more naive part of him hoped you’d say no. Alas, the truth, once again, was his adversary:

“Obviously!” you giggled at his silly question. “But I won’t marry the first one that offers me wealth and whatnot. First, I’d like to see all of my options and the world…” your voice trailed away as you vaguely pointed around the two of you. “Well, it’s a big place. Many more kingdoms to visit.”

But to his own demise, the cook was a fool unlike any other. He had no chance at winning your heart, no matter how much he’d try. Still, his untamable desire egged him on, whispering sweet songs of your grace. Even if he could taste your lips only in his imagination, he could do his best for you to have a reason to keep him around like a dog that begs for scraps at his master’s table.

Sanji knows he’s only hurting himself, only furthering his desperation when he makes you smile or earns a speck of your affection. Every dawn, he promises to free himself from your sorcery but when dusk comes and his left with the Moon, his only confidant, he realizes that he could never possess enough power to cut himself free from you. You’ve pierced his heart right through and if he pulls your knife out of his chest, he’s bound to bleed out and die. It’s better if he lets you have complete control over his mind and soul - it’s the only way he will make it out alive.

He’s left cold and lonely on that night. Soft, silver moonlight washes over him through the small porthole in the wall of his room. The sea is almost black at this hour of the night but it becomes a mystical sapphire when the Moon’s glow washes over the lazy waves making them glisten like pure diamonds.

Diamonds… maybe if he had diamonds, you’d see him as a man and not just a shipmate.

Quiet knocking on his door wakes Sanji up from his thoughts. Before he has a chance to get up and open the door or tell the guest to come in, the mysterious visitor enters out of their own volition.

Your tired face makes Sanji think about painting in museums - the ones all connoisseurs consider “classics” and “timeless”. The silk shirt you’re wearing looks not only awfully expensive but, which is much worse, to be a men’s size. Its hem ends right underneath your buttcheeks, threatening to expose your body should you lift your hands. In the darkness of his cabin, you appear as nothing beyond a phantom, a hallucination born out of desperation. And just like a ghost, you’ve come to haunt and torment him in the sweetest of ways; in a way only you can.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks in a raspy voice. Sanji is doing a great job at appearing unaffected by your rather scantily clad form.

Carefully, you close the door behind you and walk towards him. Your skin glows when you step into the rays of soft moonlight pouring in through the porthole. Dishevelled hair, half-closed eyes and a slightly puffy face - Sanji has imagined you this way countless times but never actually seen. He can feel his body burning up, telling him to seize the opportunity, to wash you in the most charming and suave words he can think of.

“Nami kicks while sleeping,” you say quietly. “I swear to god my whole side is bruised at this point. Can I sleep with you?”

Sanji has to remind himself to breathe and to do so calmly. He’s cool, completely in control of himself. His mouth feels unbearably dry.

“‘Course you can,” he answers casually. With a swift move of his arm, he lifts the duvet. “Come on in.”

The pure bliss that suddenly appears on your face forces Sanji to take in a sharp, ragged breath. It’s an expression he also imagined one too many times when his desperation poisons his mind - not that he’s willing to admit it even to himself. He knows it’s wrong to even entertain a scenario in which you would grace him with such an enraptured face. Still, his will is not as strong as he often makes it out to be.

“Sanji, you are my salvation,” you tell him while getting under the covers with him.

“I know, love.”

It’s both strange and natural, the way your body fits his. As though the two of you have done it so much the memory of your muscles twists and turns your limbs to rest in the most comfortable and intimate way. The odd familiarity makes Sanji think that maybe in another lifetime this is how he always sleeps. He wishes he could find himself in that reality even for a second. Alas, it’s too far out of his reach.

“Damn, you’re really comfortable,” you mumble against his chest. Your hot breath makes him shiver. “And warm. I don’t think I’ll be going back to my bed.” A small grin of cosiness appears on your face - one that Sanji will never forget.

His broad chest and strong arm normally go unnoticed by you but now they’re like a fortress. And just like high stone walls are an unspoken promise of security and happiness, his firm hold on your body is a silent oath of a good night's sleep.

“Stay as long as you want,” he whispers back to you. 

Maybe if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d notice that his words aren’t a statement but a plea. They’re the last thing you remember before drifting off to a restful slumber.

Your breathing slows down and gains a steady, shallow rhythm. Keeping you close to his chest, Sanji allows his hands to gently brush against your arm and back. His movements are feathery, almost fearful. He wouldn’t want you to wake up and change your mind about spending the night beside him - he can indulge in his heart’s desire but he must do so carefully.

“If you only gave me a chance,” he whispers into the night.

Knowing you’re asleep and bound to remain ignorant of his affections, Sanji kisses the top of your head. His lips linger against your hair while he takes in the scent that haunts him day and night. Unknowingly, his grip around your body tightens at that moment as though he has suddenly grown most terrified of having you disappear. Too many nights he’s dreamed of this exact scenario only to wake up to a cold, empty bed.

When the dawn arrives and you leave his arms, this little moment of affection won't mean anything to you. It means nothing now. Sanji knows this very well. He doesn't try to lie to himself that maybe you'll wake up a changed person and finally see him as more than a friendly comrade. Although tonight means nothing to you, it holds an unspeakable weight to Sanji, who will forever gloat about the fact that when you needed help, it was him you turned to. It was his arms that guarded your sleep for a few hours.

Fighting off sleep until he collapses, Sanji revels in the feeling of you against his body and pretends, even if for one night, that you’re his the same way he will always be yours. Watching you sleep cuddled into him, he swears he could die happy now.

[just1cefor4ll]

hi! can u write about a drunk love confession lolll 😭🎀

Why’d you only call me when your high?

Joost Klein x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, bad grammar, mentions of alc0hol

summary: you and Joost have been friends for a few years now but ever since he got more recognized after his song ‘friesenjung’ came out you both became more distant. What will you do after he calls you for the first time in months, drunk?

A/N: this is um.. long .. enjoy!

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You were alone in the house, your parents went off to the neighbours to go grilling. You decided to not go since you were doing things with them the whole day and you just felt exhausted. You went to cook yourself a quick meal, just some toast with whatever on top. You looked at the time, 10:28PM. Joost was performing currently in Amsterdam, not that you knew anything about it. He was probably going to get a few drinks with friends after it like he usually did after his last concert of the season. He has probably long forgot about you, probably replacing you with someone else by now. Ever since he became more famous, you both stopped reaching out as often. There wasn’t any hate behind it, Joost wasn’t the type to cut people off because of fame which you loved about him and you missed him dearly you just.. drifted apart?

You went back up to your room, deciding to go to sleep early tonight, opening the window for some cool air to come into the room. The covers called your name, snuggling into them and getting comfortable. You fall asleep a few minutes later, the room was dark and the wind entered your room like an unwelcome guest, goosebumps appearing on your skin.

A buzzing noise wakes you up, your phone lighting up and blinding your tired eyes. You try and get up, body still a bit weak since you woke up about 5 seconds ago. You grab your phone and your heart skips a beat, the name “duck” appearing on your phone. It was a nickname you gave to Joost years ago. You were teens, trying to make up nicknames for each other and you just took the word dutch and turned it into duck. You watch it ring for a few seconds and then sigh, cursing a bit then pick it up. “Hello?” You say, your voice raspy and very tired sounding. “Hallo?” You hear the dutch accent you oh so loved come through the phone. “Hello, hello.” You turn around and lay on your stomach, waiting for him to speak. The noises in the background were loud and clear, loud music coming through the phone. “Is dat het meisje waar je het over had?” (Is that the girl you were talking about?) “ja ja ga nu..” (yea yea, go now.)

He shifted around before he spoke again. “Sorry, what’s up?” You raise a brow, was this some kind of phone call you get from your dad once a year? “Nothing much, why are you calling me?” He chuckles, voice deep and handsome like always. “Can I not call mijn liefde?” (my love) “What are you on about Joost? Are you drunk?” “No, no.” He slurs, making you scoff. “Yeah, yeah.” He was mumbling things in dutch you couldn’t understand; “Ik wil niemand anders dan jou.. mijn lief meisje.” (I want no one else but you.. my sweet girl.) “Fucking hell Joost.. where the hell are you? Is Apson with you?” He nods, which you barely heard but at least he gave you an answer. Apson would mostly stay sober, only having a few drinks so you decided to call him. He picked up, voice cheerful like always. You told him to take Joost home since he sounded like he had enough for the night and he kindly agreed. You thank him, ending the call with him before trying to go back to sleep.

3:07AM, another phone call wakes you up. “What the fuck is wrong with him..” You ask yourself before picking up. “Joost it’s 3AM can you go to sleep?” You demand and he just smiles. Oh yeah you were on face time now, great. You looked like a zombie compared to him, he looked more energetic than you did, his hair wet and it looked like he was shirtless. Probably just got out of the shower. “I wanted to see your stunning face schatje.” He says, laying down on his side, the side of his face resting against a pillow.

You sigh, watching him like a hawk. The light coming from his side of the phone blinded you, making you groan. “What do you want? I’m exhausted from your bullshit.” You say and he pouts; “Why are you so mean, hm? Do you not miss me?” He asks, smiling, his adorable, genuine smile. “Joost stop it.” He chuckled, moving around in his room when he suddenly turned his lights off, the only light that let you see his face was from his LEDs. He started mumbling things again, his voice lulling you to sleep but you fought back the urge to sleep. “Jij bent zo schitterend..” (you’re so stunning) “Joost I’m hanging up.” “No, no.. Blijf bij me.” (stay with me) “Ik wil je Y/N.” (I want you Y/N.) “Ik krijg je niet uit mijn hoofd.” (I can’t get you out of my head.) All of these things meant nothing to you. You didn’t speak dutch, maybe a few phrases and words but you weren’t fluent. You brushed off all of those phrases, when he said the one thing he taught you during your time as close friends. “Ik hou van jou lieverd.” (I love you sweetheart.)

You face turned bright red, quickly hanging up and flipping onto your back. Your eyes were wide eyed, staring at the dark ceiling above you. You internally scream, maybe he meant it in a friendly way? But the nickname?? It was weird. He was just drunk after all, it probably didn’t even mean anything. You try to fall asleep, tossing and turning before finally succeeding.

Morning came quicker than usual, making your stomach turn and face feel hot. You didn’t even dare open your phone, deciding to pack your things and head home to Amsterdam a little earlier than expected. You booked a flight, canceling the one you were supposed to take 3 days later then this one.

The minute you got home you opened the messages. Some were from last night and some were from a few minutes ago. You tried replying but no words were coming to mind, your fingers just hovering above the cold screen.

———————————————————

Duck🦆💙

Y/N

Y/N

Hello??

why did u hang up hm?

blijf bij me

please

ik krijg je niet uit mijn hoofd

sent 16 hours ago

————————— new messages —————————

Y/N

Im so sorry I woke u up yesterday

I was drunk haha

hope to see u soon, today Im performing in that club we used to go to as teens

ill look for u after

———————————————————

You contemplated whether to go or not. You wanted to see him, but another part of you didn’t. Why should you be the one running back to him? It made no sense to you, yet you went. It was like you were in a daze, getting ready, taking the train to the city he was performing in.. it all felt forced in a way. You got stopped by a few fans then made your way to the barrier. You bought a ticket last minute most people already in the club waiting for their idol to come up on stage. 15 minutes until it started, you felt disgusting. Sweaty fan girls who never heard of a shower were all around you, all you wanted to do was curl yourself into a ball and dissapear on the spot. It will be so akward talking after almost a year of barely knowing of each other’s pressence yet you still wanted to see him, hug him.. kiss him.

The concert went by fast, you and Joost making eye contact several times which made you even more anxious than you were before. You walked back stage, most of the security recognising you and letting you pass which surprised you. The halls felt endless, walking in front of his door you gently knocked almost instantly hearing footsteps. And there he was. He changed a lot. His hair was now longer, looking more mature but he was still there. Your Joost. “Weren’t you supposed to be the one looking for me?” He rubbed his neck, chuckling awkwardly before pulling you into the room. It looked like he was trying to find the right words to start which made you count down the dreadful seconds going by.

“Well, what I said yesterday was true. I don’t remember all of it but from the messages I said it was pretty obvious. I really do love you and I hate that you aren’t by my side. I hate that I can’t wake up with you in my arms. I miss you. I miss your smile, your energy, I miss hearing your thoughts, I miss everything about you. Liefje please I need you I can’t live without you.” He looked at you with those beautiful ocean blue eyes, looking desperate but it was obvious he truly meant every single word. You smile softly, cupping his cheeks. “I love you too. You have no idea how much I’ve been missing you. It was like a part of my heart was taken away from me.” He kissed your forehead, smiling down at you. “I promise to never leave you. Never.” “Promise.”

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[meliciousmel13]

: ̗̀➛ lotus eater

did you figure it out?? : ̗̀➛ who's the mystery now?

based on this song by FINNEAS, since the new album came out and i love it!!

warnings: fluff, smut, eating out (r receiving).

wc: 2,534 - kinda long but let me cook

SYNOPSIS: you hate her. don't you? it's just a coincidence isn't it?? madison was being nice for some reason.

taglist: @guysimgay164, @madisonbeerssecretwife @bandanamatt

an: :)) for the people who voted for madison smut in my poll since i think you guys are a little deprived. if your looking forward to the billie one it's in the makes! this was in my drafts since before the poll.

you and madison were enemy’s. everyone knew. nobody wanted to get involved and nobody wanted to touch you. why? because the last boy you had the fortune to talk to (who was nice), went missing. or, was avoiding you for a reason you didn’t know.

you knew nothing about her. all you knew was that she was a kind and sweet girl. you saw her interviews. you didn’t want to. but the fact that her music was kind of good and she was kind of pretty. led you to watching one of her interviews. you didn’t want to admit it but she was kind of funny.

you were at an award show now and you found your seat just to be greeted with the woman you wanted to avoid. you were wondering if they sat you in the same table because they didn’t know? maybe they forgot?

you sat down, vexed. she glanced at you and continued talking with someone you didn’t know. you wanted to ask to change seats but you knew that the people who were actually in charge of the seating chart wanted you guys to either fight, or pretend to like each other.

you wanted to do none. you didn’t want to pretend. you didn’t even want to talk to the brunette. knowing that if you did, her snarky attitude would somehow come across as nice to some 47 year old asshole sitting behind a screen.

you cross your arms and lay back on the soft seat, looking around the venue until she spoke, “what are you doing here?” she asked, condescendingly, turning to you while her friend went off.

“this is my seat.” you answer. you didn’t want to talk to her. you thought if you paid her no mind then she wouldn’t talk to you. but no. she always had too much to say. couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“oh.. are you sure? did you double check?” she asked, again. you double checked. triple checked, quadruple checked. of course you did. why the hell would you wanna sit next to her?

“yes, i checked.” you scoffed.

“you don’t have to be so negative. this is good right?” you wanted to punch her.

no. it’s not good. “i guess.” you muttered, going back on yourself and actually talking to her.

the award show went great. besides the soft murmurs of an angry night. madison was commentating everything, saying the obvious and talking to you the whole night. you wanted to go home. get rid of her obnoxiously sweet voice in your ear and maybe eat a tub of ice cream.

but you didn’t get to enjoy the luxury which was your own bed because you had to go to the after party. your manager had everything ready. the short dress and—you were so tired. not physically. but because of the fact that someone was talking your ears off.

madison decided to stay in the same car as you. you didn’t even get to stare outside the window with some much needed alone time. she took your headphones off and wanted you to really listen to whatever she was saying.

you tilt your head back on the soft cushion of the chair and took deep breaths. the more she spoke the more your headache grew.

you open the door to the outside frantically, almost begging to feel the cold air on your skin. you did. but the flashing lights that invited you weren’t welcoming. home home home.

she took your hand and you wanted to pull away. the sight of cameras stopped you. but also because her hands were soft. if they belonged to another you would’ve been thrilled.

you walk through the large doors of the establishment and you finally pulled away as the security guards prevented photographers from entering and everyone else.

“why the fuck did you do that?” you asked angrily.

“what did i do?” she asked. and your frustration was through the roof. the squinting was making your headache worse and the bright lights too.

you groaned, loudly, she was so frustrating that if you spoke another word you might actually explode. she giggled. she fucking giggled. you were mad and she was laughing.

“are you seriously laughing?” you questioned, and she shook her head.

“s’ nothing,” she rolled her eyes,“we should head in now we might be late.” she said.

“who the hell is we?—” she took your wrist and dragged you inside.

you’ve never regretted your life choices more. this was way worse then the award show. here they had flashing bright colors and loud charlie xcx songs blasting through the speakers. madison pulled you to the drinks bar and you’ve grown tired of her dragging you around. but you continue to let her.

“uh, two cherry colas—” she said and you looked at her with a bewildered expression. a nonalcoholic drink. a nonalcoholic drink.

“no.” you interrupted.

“but—”

“no.” you crossed your arms, “i’ll have a Sex on the Beach. she can have a cherry coke.” you said to bartender and he nodded, getting ready to make your drinks.

“for the contrary, cherry colas are really good,” she said, and you nodded, rubbing your temples., “headache?” she asked. you nodded. “why would you drink alcohol then.” she rolled her eyes again and called the bartender. telling him to cancel your drink and opting to getting you water.

“here.” she breathed out, helping you sip out the glass cup until it was empty.

“why’re you being so nice to me?”

her expression changed. mouth slightly agape and it made you even more curious. the once cruel woman was suddenly helping you with your ever growing headache that she started. her eyes dart across the room to look at anything but you. avoiding your question.

she mumbled something you couldn’t hear, so you bring your face closer to hear her better but she groaned, “you always fucking do that—” she grabbed your wrist till her knuckles were white and led you to a janitors closet near the exit of the party.

“do what?—” you were cut off by her kissing you.

oh

oh, that’s what she meant. she tilted her head to kiss you better and you didn’t know what to do. you were confused. not knowing where to put your hands so you place them on her shoulders. her lips were soft. and she smelt like angles and fairy dust.

you wanted to let out a word, you wanted to push her away you wanted and wanted but you never did anything. you let her kiss down your neck and up your jaw you let her. she griped your hips tightly and traced the hem of your dress.

“madison—” you pull her head away from your neck by softly tugging her hair, and she groaned. as if being separated from you was equivalent to having her lollipop taken from her hands. was she crying? because you swore you saw tears in her eyes when you pulled her away.

her lip gloss was smudged on your neck and her mascara was ruined, some of it probably on your neck too, she was undoubtedly messy. “what?” she asked.

“talk to me.”

“are you stupid?” she said, and you flinched, “do you still not know why i pulled you in here? i mean— I’ve never seen someone as stupid as you.” you stayed silent, she pulled her hands away from your hips and you almost missed them. she sighed and paced around the small room.

“i like you.” then everything made sense. like the flood of questions in your mind were answered with three words. the reason no one approached you was because everyone knew she liked you? is that why you were sat next to each other? the reason the boy stopped talking to you was because she told him off?

“do you know how obvious i made it for you? like— i might as well be screaming i love you at this point—” she wanted you. she really really wanted you.

you initiated the kiss this time. you didn’t have to say it back she knew. you wanted her too.

the kiss quickly grew heated, the loud sighs and whimpers—mostly from you, because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, “madison.” you breathe out, knees going weak and without the support of her hands under your thighs you would’ve collapsed on the dirty floor.

“yeah?” her eyes darkened, the filthy noises—just saying her name that way was driving her insane.

“do something.” you said. the uncomfortable wetness in your underwear was growing the longer she looked at you that way, like she wanted to devour you whole.

she parted your legs and put her knee between them, removing her hands from your thighs and actually letting you sit on it. you quickly regained your composure and actually used your legs to stand.

“can i take this off?” she toyed with the hem of your dress. you didn’t know why she was asking.

“yes.” you answered, and she pulled the dress up above your hips—now crumpled on you waist. she looked at your underwear then your eyes, asking for conformation. you nod. and she pulled the black lacy underwear to the side.

you wore it for yourself, no one in peculiar but you don’t regret it because she griped the underwear so tightly you were scared it was going to rip. you tried helping her pull it down your legs but she refused. you looked too pretty. depending on her knee to stay up and mouth agape. so. fuckin’. pretty.

“ma—” you yelped when she removed her knee, quickly holding you up—she didn’t want her pretty girl to fall now. her pretty girl. you were hers.

she brushed her thumb on your clit and you bite your lip, one of her hands were on your hips holding you up and the other was dragging up and down on your heat, “you’re so wet.” she mumbled into your neck while sucking hickies onto it. your cheeks flush and your skin was sweaty because you were nervous but also because it was hot in here. you were wet. and she didn’t even do anything yet.

“tell me your mine.” she pulled away from your neck and rubbed harshly on your clit. you grip her shoulders tightly.

“m’ yours.” you whine when she legs go of her hand on your hips, you almost fall, but grab a hold of her leather jacket in time. desperately trying to wrap your legs around her waist but she doesn’t even help you, she just holds your chin and tilts it upwards.

“i can’t hear you.” her thumb on your clit slows down and you groan, the long acrylic nails were scratching on your jaw.

“i’m yours!” you half-scream, surprised no one barged in the room yet.

madison smiled, “that’s right baby.” she rasped out, and you had to hold back a moan at the name, “why’re you holding back?”

“because someone might come in.” you sigh and she bites her lower lip.

“you shouldn’t care about them, kay?” she sank to her knees, and you almost came, because she looked so good looking up at you, “can’ moan all you want baby.” oh god. she lifted your thigh on her shoulder and you arch your back.

she hummed while running her tongue up your pussy, her knees probably dying. she held your whole body up and you were curious how strong she actually was.

you moan, and she looked up at you, so focused on your taste she forgot to focus on you. “look at me.” she kissed and nipped at your thighs. you do, for a while but you gasp and cover your face once she brings your clit to her lips, “look at me, please.” she half begged.

you let out a small ‘mhph’ and pull your hand from your face, nothing was covering the pornographic look on your face now. you were panting, brows furrowed and a small drop of sweat rolling down your face. you tilted your head to see her better.

“fuck.” she moaned. you run your hands through her hair, gripping once she sucked harshly on your clit—ruining the hair that probably took over 4 people to do, she let you. and you’ve never had that much power before. you could ruin her if you wanted. and she would let you. because she loved you.

she desperately wanted to plunge her fingers deep inside you but her annoyingly long nails restricted her from doing so. they were cute and all, but her knees were killing her. she ignored the pain though, she’d do anything for you.

madison couldn’t breathe. all she could feel, smell and taste was you. she didn’t care though, if she could die between your thighs then she’d die happy. her cheeks were squeezed between them and you’ve never seen something so beautiful.

she tapped your thigh lightly and you part your legs, not wanting to to cut off her breathing. you whimper and buck your hips to her mouth when she entered her tongue in you. she held your hips and you scratched at her scalp.

“m’ gonna cum.” you whimper, your entire upper body was a mess. hickies on the side of your neck and collar bones, some ever scattered above your breasts. even your lip stick was stained and out of place.

“yeah? gonna cum f’ me?” she asked, digging crescent moons into your thighs from how she was gripping it. she raspy voice sent vibrations up your pussy, and you pushed her face even closer, she didn’t stop you though, she enjoyed it.

madison pushed down your lower stomach and dug her tongue even deeper, “oh— fuck, madison.” you moan, feeling madison hum, and that pushed you over the edge. squirting all over her face. she licked up every drop. feeling over simulated, you push her away from her head, “can’t.” you breathe out.

“good?” she said, you nodded and madison stood up stumbling, “are your knees okay?” you asked, concerned.

“yeah i’m fine,” she fixed her hair, smoothing it back and fixing her clothes, “come here.” she took your hips and pulled you closer, helping put your panties back in place and your dress down your thighs.

“thank you.” you mumble, while she wiped the smudged lipstick across your mouth and the lip gloss from your neck, “madison.” you laugh, seeing her lower face completely covered in arousal.

“what?” she asked innocently, like she didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life.

“your face.”

“what about it?” she licked her lips. messy eater.

after you both cleaned up, you came out of the janitors closet, getting weird looks from most people but you drag her outside and tell your driver to take you home. this time, with her.

“so,” she dug her hands into her jacket pockets, “what are we now?” she asked, hopeful.

you hum, pretending to think about it, madison groans, and you laugh, “i’m kidding! your my girlfriend right?” you ask, hopeful.

“yeah, your my girlfriend.”

[callie-the-creator]

ayato aishi being in love with an idol!reader would include...

sfw. warnings: yandere and obsessive behavior but that’s about it.

author’s note: this was also posted on my wattpad account, just wanted to share it here!

• the only reason ayato knew of your existence was because he heard your name a few times brought up at school. at first, he thought you were a student at akademi but something in the back of his mind told him that he had the wrong idea. he ended up shrugging it off. that is, until he saw a 3d billboard of you in tokyo, telling the watchers below to buy tickets for your upcoming concert.

• this whole time, y/n was an idol? ayato felt like a complete idiot when he realized this and spent the next few minutes, just standing there on the sidewalk, watching the same billboard cycle through other things until you popped up again. when you did, ayato took his time admiring your features. it's no wonder you were so popular at school...you're gorgeous.

• with that, ayato hurried to his house whilst he looked up everything about you and once he was in his house, he listened to every single song that you have ever sung. unreleased, popular, underrated, instrumental, acapella, you name it. you just so happened to have over 45 songs! for someone who was in the music scene for such a short amount of time, you did have a lot of albums...but that's alright!

— while it wasn't ayato's usual taste in music, he was willing to make an exception for you and only you.

• ayato is the type of guy to see someone wearing a piece of your merchandise, walk up to them, and say, "oh, you like y/n l/n? name 5 songs."

— insufferable, yes, but he had to assert dominance and show every single follower that he was your number #1 fan! if someone claims to be it, they're dead wrong. literally.

• he hates how some of the guys at his school also knew who you were and thought you were attractive. ayato knows that realistically, it was bound to happen but he still hates having to deal with it and it's not like he could do anything about it too, just suck it up.

• if you're the type of idol to dye your hair differently with every single album debut, ayato carefully tracks for any leaks on what color it would be because he's been debating on matching with you. he's lucky that akademi high school isn't strict when it comes to uniquely colored hair (as some schools force students to dye their hair black, even if a person's natural hair color is brown). of course, he would stick out more but he didn't care. it's a way he can show his support for you and there's nothing wrong with that. 

• has only been to one of your concerts since, he won't lie, the tickets are a bit pricey and his part-time job could hardly cover it. the concert was really cool to experience— especially since ayato doesn't get out much— and he loved seeing you in person, but some annoying fans in front of him wouldn't stop holding their signs up in the air blocking his view but still tried to have a good thing by waving his light-stick and chanting in perfect harmony with the other fans.

— he would've gone a vip pass instead, but if he did that, ayato would have become flat-broke and that would in turn make him receive an angry lecture from his parents about finances.

• ayato has sent you loads of fan mail, some by name, others anonymously. he's sure that you get thousands by the hour but if there is even the slightest chance that you might read at least one of his, he'll take that opportunity

• whenever you describe your ideal type in a man in interviews, ayato makes it his duty to meet the criteria. you want someone with a little bit of muscle? he can work out more. you want a man who can cook? looks like ayato will be joining the cooking club at school. trust me, he will do anything to be viewed perfect in your eyes

• although his first-ever time seeing you in person was pretty much a bust, ayato made up for it by teaming up with info-kun to see where you would be in japan and finding your location by fan sightings. it was from there that ayato was able to find you in shibuya but it wasn't good news, actually. you were mad at the paparazzi trying to take scandalous photos of you and when ayato realized this, his head began to spin and he, too, started shouting at them to give you some space and to back off.

— when you realized this, you turned over to see just who was coming to help you since you weren't expecting it and mouthed a small 'thank you' which sent ayato's heart soaring.

• ayato has purchased an ungodly amount of merch from you, whether that be shirts, water bottles, limited-time ramen, or soda cans, he's even ripped off pages in magazines solely because your face was on it.

• alas, he still needs to find a way to worm into your personal life. it's a little hard to do that with just how many bodyguards you have and have lots of cameras in your house, too many for him to be able to capture you without any issues...

[writingoddess1125]

You get high with them- 🍃 🚬

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Luffy

You of course bought some edibles the last time you were on land. Now chilling jn bed you ate some and Luffy came in- Assuming the gummies were just normal candies he partook in some before you could give the warning.

He ate a easy 400mg and now is laying next to you as high as a kite. His gum gum abilities also being messed with by the edibles as he is quite literally dropping over the sides of the bed.

"My face feels heavy and fuzzy" He hums, blinking at you slowly.

You smile at him and giggled at his reactions.

"You're absolutely fucked up-"

He nods at this and just giggles as he lays there. Clearly a giggly high.

Sanji

You offer Sanji a bit from your joint while sitting in the kitchens. He accepts figuring it won't be that bad-

Sanji and you will talk with you for a while as you two shared the joint. When it hits him however- it hits him hard.

"This feels weird" He smirks at this and passes the joint back to you with a smirk. The man shows a whole new side of himself- were where he is just so chill and open! Super cool too.

"Yeah I do see Chef Zeff as my father. I'll never let him know since that would boost the old man's ego way to much- But I love the old guy"

Will come up with amazing cooking ideas and actually prepare them, often having music playing as he does so.

"(Y/N) I just got an amazing idea- what if I cake the creamy cheese sauce from the pasta and add it to ramen instead and top it with spicy seafood, a soft boiled egg and green onions. A cheesy spicy ramen"

Zoro

When you first offer to zoro he absolutely refuses- It isn't until a few weeks later when he sees you at it again does he agree. You make him a small joint to start out with and the two of you sit on the main deck under the stars and pass it back and forth.

He will start to get a bit chattier. Talking to you a bit more about random things- He smiles and giggles a bit more.

"This is a new experience for me- I usually don't want to dull my senses"

You take another kit and cough a bit, Waving the smoke.

"But you drink a fuck ton" You pass him back the joint and he nods.

"Touché"

Eventually however he gets sleepy, immediately turning into the sleepy high. Just laying on the deck half asleep and joining in humming a song with you.

Usopp

Truth be told- Usopp is the most open to the experience. He lies saying he does it before despite being fairly clean. However is interested in the opportunity!

Will be the one wanting to try a pipe- Which you will happily provide and the two of you will sit in the bottom haul of the ship and pass the pipe back and forth-

Usopp will actually start to yet honest with you- really really honest. It turning almost into a therapy session between the two of you.

"Man I really miss my Mum... she was just an amazing person and it makes me upset to think she only heard about how her son was a lying mess up instead lf someone great"

He admits, sadly looking at the pipe before taking another rip of the pipe.

"I'm sure she's proud of the man you are Usopp. You are a good guy and an amazing pirate" You praise, patting his shoulder.

He nods at this and smiles. Defiently a honest high Ironically.

Nami

Nami is no beginner- In her time away from Arlong she used to smoke to feel a bit of stress relief. So when you offer she comes prepared with her favorite bong.

Sitting together the two of you will talk for hours while taking massive hits of the bong. Eating snacks stolen from the kitchen as you play records.

"So- You think that Buggy can take off his dick?" You question watching Nami take another massive rip from the bong, holding it in for a good second as she nodded and releases the cloud of smoke.

"Abso-fucking-lutely he can. He said he would take every thing apart and I saw how small he had himself flying- There is no way he hasn't sent his cock through the air"

"Wait- so if every part... do you think Luffy can stretch his?"

You both burst out in hysterical laughter and continue to talk mindlessly. Nami is Defiently the social butterfly of highs, just laying out the best of conversations.

Buggy

You get caught by Buggy smoking at first- however he is fine with it and interested in what you could possibly be doing.

Buggy is more then willing to smoke with you, thinking this will be a fun experience for you all. It's an experience all right-

Let's say in stupid thoughts you guys get hotboxed in his bedroom. Buggy has his hair down and will be talking about random philosophy and sounding intelligent unlike his normal Goofy self.

"You know, I've always wondered how the system of devil fruits work?- if one can exist at a time say I die. Does that mean another Chop Chop fruit will appear? Who controls this?.. Does that mean a plant knows when I died?"

You nod at this, also curious of this question.

"You know, I never thought of that... wait wait- so Does that mean a plant is closer to a God then anything else if it knows when you die?"

You two will talk for hours about random questions, before stumbling to get some snacks in the middle of the night.

[o-sunny-day]

I COOKED A LITTLE SOMETHING FOR @forgettable-au STUFF-

Its not done obviously and I might not ever finish it, but wanted to post it here because of the song being suggested on the blog

god ever since listening to that song- I was listening to it on repeat during class (so has become my routine) THIS popped into my head and I needed to get it down

The main idea is Gaster is extremely care free and kinda melancholy. Him calling Papyrus a “carcass” is the most canon thing I can think of I love it 😭

I imagine this first bit is him fairly recently after falling into the void, he traveled way forwards in time to see what the hell this thing that replaced him was like and found himself to be amused and a ✨CATHARSIS✨ for him

Traveling a bit in time through the eye transition, we see him making the tape recording and putting it in the secret compartment cause I SWEAR THAT WAS ALL HIS DOING. this is gonna age horribly

Then him doing his whole Player business. I think the “I deserve forgetting” is the most raw line ive ever heard in my entire life, BUT THIS IS A LIGHT HEARTED AND NOT ANGSTY PMV SO IM IGNORING THAT

He finds he doesnt much care for how he feels, more what he has to do, which is GET THE PLAYER and do whatever he has planned for Deltarune-

The upsetting part is from the players point of view cause WHAT THE HELL MAN ☹️ I JUST MADE THAT

Then we get to my favorite part of him being content in things ending and him being content where he is, happy, even (PLEASEEE DONT LET THIS AGE HORRIBLY LET MY MAN BE HAPPY 😭)

Another time skip through the eye hole! Flowey and Papyrus have made their way down to the lab and wtf are these recordings, it sounds like someone rambling but its impossible to make out any of the words

then for some reason Flowey gets a weird vision and is like “AYO?? PAPYRUS???” and this is where I ran out of ideas-

Im still working on the You And Me PMV im just bad at focusing-

Forgettable AU + Undertale and Deltarune in general consume my every waking thought (this is a cry for help)

ive been cooking so much not just with this AU this- this comic is SPECIAL IDK HOW OR WHY BUT ITS SPECIAL

[ruewrote]

𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑟𝑦.

PAIRING: s10!carlgallagher x fem!reader WARNINGS: creep men, sexual harrassment, swearing GENRE: angst to fluff SONG INSPIRATION: nice 2 know ya by sylendanna WORD COUNT: 631 REQUESTED: yes

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you didn’t really go out all that often, you are what they call a homebody, but you had a hard time telling carl no so that’s how you ended up sitting in his lap in the alibi. with a coke in hand, kevin only just remembered you weren’t old enough to drink.

carl's arms wrapped around your waist as he talked to the locals about random shit, you didn’t pay too much attention to it as you leaned into his touch, your head pressed against his shoulder, your fingers tracing small patterns over his with a dreamy smile on your lips.

“oh to be young and in love!” kevin smiles at the two of you before walking away taking someone's drink order down.

carl turned back and smiled down at you,  lightly tapping your thigh, “i gotta go piss,” he whispered into your ear like it was some secret, making you giggle as you slid off of his lap watching him quickly make his way into the men’s bathroom.

shaking your head to yourself, turning your attention to the cherries in your drink, stirring them around with your straw. your leg bouncing, waiting impatiently for him to get back, social anxiety slowly creeping back in on you whilst you were alone.

“well aren’t you a pretty little thing?” a voice speaks beside you, a little too close for comfort, so you turned your head around in it’s direction.

“a pretty little thing that’s taken, so fuck off.” you voice back, normally you wouldn’t be this rude, but in all honesty you just wanted to be left alone, especially by this piece of shit.

“ooh she's feisty!” 

“dude, so not cool leave her alone or get out of my bar!” kevin sternly stated, as he pointed to the door, the guy continued spewing disgusting things in your ear which just made you get up to get carl and go, but as soon as you stood he grabbed a handful of your ass.

which made you forcefully push him away from you, clearly violated you wrapped your arms around yourself as you back away from him. it was a blur as carl protectively pushed you behind him, then grabbed the man up by the collar, punching him repeatedly until he had him on the floor.

tommy let him get his hits in before pulling carl off of the beaten man who was now barely conscious.

ripping himself out of tommy’s grip, pointing at the bloodied creep who was barely sitting up on the floor, “i will kill you if you even think to look at her again, do i make myself clear?” carl shouts at him, the guy frantically nods then runs out of the building.

carl's breath ragged as adrenaline ran through him, his fists still clenched as he eyed everyone around him realising the whole building had gone silent, it didn’t take long for everyone to go back to normal, drinking and playing pool, but all he was concerned about was you.

turning back around, pulling you into his arms making sure he was gentle with you, “i'm so sorry, sweetheart.” his words were soft as he held you, tears stung your eyes. but you were just glad he was with you.

he backed away just enough for his shaky hands to be pressed to your cheeks, giving you a small smile making one of your own appear.

“yeah, just wanna go home,” 

and you did. 

spending the night in the gallagher home trying to find ways to make it up to him even with the amount of reassurance he gave you, you persisted and he gave in. you made him ice his bruised knuckles, both cooking dinner for everyone, spending the rest of the night cuddling and kissing in his bed.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[pricegouge]

missionary

nik x f!reader

cw: dubcon/noncon implied, but nothing happens here. religious talk from someone who doesn't know dick about it but that's okay cause the characters here don't either. abrupt ending. MDNI

sunlight filters through your curtains as you wake, a diffused sort of warmth that catches on dust motes and cat hair, paints them cream colored and soft. you sigh and burrow deeper for a few more minutes, ignore your looming sunday chores in favor of sleeping in a bit longer. you can't remember the last time the sun had beat you out the gate, the winter seeming to stretch past into your memory as far back as your childhood.

perhaps that's a little dramatic, but it's been a minute, so you climb out of bed only long enough to draw the curtains and let the thin morning light stream through properly before flopping back onto the mattress, letting your dry, winter skin absorb as much needed vitamin d as you can get before your stomach starts complaining about needed sustenance - though with how late you'd managed to sleep in, you can't even blame it.

your head's a bit fuzzy as you make your way to the kitchen. with the latest cold snap on its way out, the sudden temperature change had left your sinuses reeling and you'd had to resort to a little cocktail of otc drugs just to have a chance at sleep the night before. small price to pay, considering the light drip of snow melt you can see falling from your vantage point at the window, eyes unfocused as you zone out, waiting for the coffee to finish percolating.

it takes a few sips of the strong brew to fully realize what that means, opening your door in near disbelief to find the storm door isn't glazed over in ice, no steam spilling through the frame as your house attempts to heat the whole universe. it's still chilly, for sure, but it's not enough to deter you, leaving the door open for a spot of fresh air as you get to work fixing yourself breakfast, singing to yourself cheerily as you move about, your mood brighter than it's been in months at the barest sliver of sunshine. it's nice enough out you don't even bother to put a pair of pants on, the slight sting of early spring air so unseasonable and unexpected that you can't but relish it.

cooking is a messy affair. carefree. you go all out, pancake batter dusting the counter and your legs alike, broad strokes painted with messy fingers as you wait for your bacon to fry. you're distracted as you cut up an orange, knife slipping dangerously close past your fingertips because you can't help wriggling to the catchy song you've got stuck in your head.

once, twice -

"shit," you hiss, turning to run the cut under some cold water before you even fully inspect it.

you're prodding at the seams of your skin when you hear him, voice a low lilt sounding from your left which chills you more than the mid-winter air stirring around your bare thighs, more than the frigid font you've got your hand stuck under. your eyes find him immediately, watching you from the other side of the screen door with a hungry look about him, like he can't discern between you and the veritable buffet being plated behind you.

"you alright there?" he asks, accented and deep. he's not looking at the hand you hold over the sink, thin blood seeping down into the webbing of your fingers. his eyes trail down over your hip instead, lingering on your belly where the counter cuts into you, protecting your lower half from his field of view.

"can i help you?" you snap, unsettled by the sudden presence of a strange man on your porch and by the feeling his gaze incites, spiders crawling all over you.

he doesn't even bother to look chastised, a slick grin spreading across his broad face as he sniffs pointedly, lip curling. he's hunched over a bit to fit in your frame, too tall to be seen otherwise. "yeah, actually." with an elbow braced above his head, he flicks a pamphlet against your storm window to draw your attention. blue and green, calming colors for a calming message, no doubt. he wouldn't be the first missionary to grace your doorway, but he would be the most implacable, with his leather jacket and thick gold chain. you're no theologist, but you doubt the latter day saints would approve of this level of materialism. "wanna talk about god, but uh - that cut seems more important at the moment." he nods at your hand.

"right," you grumble, attention returning to the steady trickle of blood from your knuckle. it doesn't seem too bad, would just need a good amount of pressure to stem it and a few days spent wrapped up. "well, i'm fine - on both accounts, thanks."

"sure you are," he drawls, smile almost as greasy as his hair.

"i meant… i'm okay. i don't need -."

"you sure? i could help -."

"very sure," you snap, ripping off a square of paper towel from the dispenser next to the sink and twisting it into a ribbon which you wrap tightly around your finger. "see? got it covered, thanks. have a good one," you harp, stepping closer to shut the door in his face.

a mistake. one step, two. your toes feel the draft from the door first before it inches up your legs like creeping fingers and you remember your outfit just in time to see his eyes already darting down, expectant as you round the corner of your counter.

how long had he been watching you?

stepping back behind your cover, you try to make your voice as assertive as possible, know you've failed miserably when it comes out a shaky whisper. "i would like you to leave, please."

the man's eyes track back up to yours even as his elbow falls from where it's braced overhead, his callused palm scratching over your door frame as he trails it lower, lower. hardware of the handle jangling under the weight when he drops his palm heavily over it. "you won't let your lord and savior into your life?"

he doesn't wait for an answer, the door squealing on its hinges as he pulls it open. it's not quite necessary for him to duck through the frame, but only just - taller than you by nearly a full foot and broadly built. you back away from him on instinct and curse yourself when you realize this brings you further away from the knife block. the pamphlet skitters across the counter closest to him, a careless toss which you can't help but track, eyes catching on the smudge of red at the bottom corner. it's only then that you realize he isn't carrying any sort of bag, no stockpile on his person to dispense the good word to all his neighbors. you're also fairly certain missionaries have something against working on sundays.

you play along with the ruse anyway, fawning in your fright. "please, sir, i -. i'd love to hear more about… about -."

he cuts you off with no more than a look, eyebrow arching nearly as high as his widow's peak as he tilts his head condescendingly, his boots leaving a messy trail behind him as he stalks closer. "yeah? you need jesus, milaya? need to atone?"

"i -!" you don't make it any further before he's gripping your hip, spinning you until you fold over your counter, the hard press of his fly biting against your nearly bare cunt.

"that's okay, samka, the lord will forgive you for being such a little slut, prancing around in here for all to see in these tiny fucking panties." he snaps the gusset against you to prove his point, hairy knuckle brushing against your vulva before disappearing again. his full weight crowds into you, unbearable as it is inescapable. you can feel his breath ghosting down your neck, the scratch of stubble behind your ear. and yet - he doesn't kiss you, plants a broad hand next to yours instead, doesn't even flinch when bacon grease pops and splashes over the knuckles. "you know," he drawls, almost conversationally, as if the tableau before him has finally registered. "most people offer us food after inviting us in."

the distraction is such a welcome prospect, you don't even bother correcting him. "would you like some?" you ask, voice high and reedy with a manic sort of hope. "i have plenty, i could -."

you're cut off with a yelp when he crouches, enough so that he can span his palms under the crease of your ass and lift you the final few inches necessary to fully hinge your torso over the counter. his knees pop as he falls to them, the anticipated soft press of lips finally landing, directly on your core. he doesn't seem to mind the barier still in place, drags his hot tongue over the cotton to press it into your hole, gets a taste of you and hums, diffused as it is.

"yeah, i think i'll stay for a bite."

divider by @/cafekitsune

[emil1863]

More for the au!

The basics, Gods, Demigods, Devil Fruits, all exist.

World Gov + Marines try and keep the whole concept of gods and demigods under wraps. Because I'm working with "D's" carry divinity. And having a good chunk of them outright despise the government isn't a great look.

Luffy is a god while Garp and Dragon are demigods. Luffy can shift between physical and 'divine' form whereas demigods don't have that ability.

Luffy is the successor/inheritor of his predecessor's will and own divinity. But not through reincarnation necessarily. One in the same but they are very much so different. His devil fruit and promise to Shanks cemented his place as the successor to the sun and freedom. When gods and demigods start out, there isn't a wholly set future for what will they will have, or the ideals they will embody. Luffy has always had his cloudy/intangible form.

Imagine Garp's surprise when his grandson, who was supposed to join him in the marines, is set to embody freedom and the sun. He was pissed for a solid week about that. Garp also had to deal with questioning where Dragon had even gotten Luffy from, he still doesn't know.

Ace and Sabo were very adamant that Luffy not show off his divine form to everyone, especially if he wanted to become a pirate. He can't be a pirate if the government tracks him down and hides him away at the ripe age of like, 8. Also because having a full god is pretty uncommon, Sabo has heard horror story after horror story of what nobles and those in higher society would do to a god. Sabo is the most vocal about Luffy being careful about that.

Luffy meets Koby, and does an absolutely terrible job at keeping his form hidden. It's harder to control which form he's in when he's excited. Koby was a human with no divinity and big dreams that Luffy adored. So, already excited with a new friend, and the two on their way to Shells town, Luffy sneezed and immediately sold himself out. Koby is a terrible liar and so just elects to never speak on this topic ever. If anyone asks why he has so much knowledge on gods, specifically sun gods, he just doesn't answer. Helmeppo thinks it's funny and immediately pieced together why, because Koby cannot keep anything from him. And Garp has to respect how hard that kid is trying to not completely sell out his grandson, even if the brat kind of deserves it for being a pirate.

Luffy is going to be the Pirate King, divine or not. His crew quickly find out about his side quirk/form in varying ways. Zoro woke up one day with a cloudy demon from hell cutting off his airways. Nami was trying to explain clouds to Luffy and that 'no, they cannot just spawn on your person, that's stupid,' and so Luffy shows her that he is in fact, correct.

Usopp got jumpscared early in the morning, before the sun had risen, when Luffy just appeared behind him and asked if he wanted to watch the sunrise. Sanji was cooking dinner and Luffy got so excited he phased out of his physical body.

Chopper found out while asking Luffy if he had any medical conditions he should know about, he thought it was kinda cool that Luffy can change forms. And is only a little jealous that Luffy has a fully human form. Luffy always makes sure to tell Chopper he's exactly who he needs to be.

Robin found out after talking about 'Nika,' who is thought to be long dead, but is not. And is the captain of the crew she is now apart of. Luffy knows the name is important and it has a certain weight when it's said. He physically feels when someone says his name around him. Robin thinks this is very fascinating. (Also can add some context into poneglyphs, that there is a lot to it, even if Robin doesn't yet know and Luffy wasn't alive/doesn't have that knowledge)

Franky was showing off cool shit he could do with his robotic body, and Luffy was like 'me too!!!'

Brook found out when Luffy fell asleep listening to him play a song, and Luffy slipped back into his resting form of cloudiness.

While both forms have their uses and limitations, Luffy is most comfortable in his intangible form, even if his physical one is the default. He cannot access his divine form after a certain point of exhaustion hits.

Im going to end that there before I have an entire novel in this. But that's the general thought throw up I'm smacking down right now.

Sorry if this is incoherent and not easy to understand lol. I will flesh it out more later and when I have actually thought more about it. Might change things later too. Then I'll probably make a good post about it with actual wellish made context and lore.

[svltzmans]

casual - cassie howard

cassie howard x fem! reader

a/n: like every other lesbian, i've been listening to a lot of chappell roan and this song seems like a perfect prompt for my first time writing angst 😵 it's not really great so i just made it a one shot and definitely did not proofread lol

warnings: 18+ smut, angst with no happy ending 😬 but i'll go back to happy stuff soon i promise!

y/n's nails dig into the leather of cassie's car, her body sprawled across the passenger seat.

cassie pushes y/n's legs further apart, her head remaining buried between them.

her tongue circles y/n's clit, leaving her lightheaded above her. y/n's nails really start leaving marks behind on the seat, but she can't find it within her to care.

"just like that, cass," y/n mewls, her body instinctively pulling towards cassie.

cassie had quickly discovered that y/n was intoxicating to her, the countless times they had hooked up only adding to her desires.

y/n's orgasm finally hits her, her hands reaching up to the windows to brace herself.

cassie pulls away, wiping her mouth on her shirt with a smirk.

"you're amazing," y/n mutters, still catching her breath.

cassie smiles slightly before preparing to start the car.

"can't you hang out with me for a little?" y/n asks, disappointed seeing cassie prepare to take her home.

"maddy invited me out," cassie justifies, reaching for the door handle.

"why do you always leave?"

the sadness in y/n's voice creates a thick silence in the car. cassie stops moving, staring blankly forward.

"y/n, you know this is just... for fun, right?"

"what the hell are you talking about?"

cassie sighs, running her fingers through her hair. she finally looks at y/n, ditching her avoidance of eye contact.

"we can't, like, date," cassie manages to blurt. "doing this with you is fun, but you know i can't do a relationship right now."

"that certainly isn't what you've been implying."

"y/n... i'm not trying to be an asshole. but i've never implied we were going to date. or that we were anything more than friends."

y/n inhales sharply, trying to keep herself composed. she's hurt, and she feels it in every inch of her body.

"i spent the summer with you, at your family's house. your mom cooked dinner for me and told me stories about you as a child. lexi and i became friends. we've kissed in front of them, cass. what do they think we are? what does maddy think we are? she's seen how inseperable we have been this whole time."

cassie sighs, looking away from y/n again. her expression is somewhat cold as tears start to gently flow down y/n's cheeks.

"i told them it's been... casual. they know we've just been hanging out."

"hanging out?" y/n raises her voice slightly, her outrage becoming more and more apparent.

"cassie, this whole time you have been acting like someone who has genuine feelings. genuine interest. you never told me you wanted any of this to be casual. if you did, i wouldn't be here right now."

"what do you mean you wouldn't-"

"i would have protected myself."

cassie is taken aback by that, shuffling restlessly in her seat. "you don't have to protect yourself from me, y/n."

"no, i do, because i've been falling for you and it all has meant nothing to you."

"y/n, that's not true-"

before cassie can finish her sentence, y/n is gathering her belongings, exasperated.

she pulls the door open, hesitating as if she was waiting for cassie to speak.

when she doesn't, y/n steps out of the car, roughly shutting the door behind her.