#stare at it for a long time and be like “woah!!!!” i made that!!!“

[bewilderingbog]

realizing i am not obligated to make art that's really fancy or professional or even like. shaded with a proper background is nice actually

like yeah i like doing that stuff sometimes but right now im just having fun doodling, not shading, nor lining my art. just kinda. drawing a few basic guidelines and then just jumping into the drawing of it. it's nice

im not currently doing art for a living or any kind of income so like why. do i have to do the stuff i'm not excited to do right now? oh yeah i don't

[yasministration]

heavy dresses, tight corsets - harry potter

concussions and interruptions au summary: in the guise of having a sleepover with daphne, you go over to harry's house, where you can finally take this stupid dress off. wc: 1.5k+ featuring the marauders

Standing at the front of the Potters’s doorstep, you felt more nervous than anything else, the ache in your feet almost forgotten. Sure, you had been invited by Harry to come after the Parkinsons’s ball, but the night had barely gone well, and you were still dressed in your ridiculously fancy gown.

Harry jumped up from the couch when a knock was heard from the front door. You hadn’t given him an estimate for when the ball would end, but he knew it would be late, so he sat with his parents and uncles, awaiting your arrival. James laughed as Harry raced to the door, slipping on the rug, but he slammed a hand on the wall to stabilise himself before swinging the door open. His jaw dropped.

“You look… You’re, woah.” You laughed at Harry’s words, a tired look in your eyes. “This dress is so stupidly heavy.” You complained, and Harry smiled softly, moving out of the door way to let you in.

From the living room, Lily Potter patted her husband’s thigh, and she said. “I’m going to go say hi.” “I’ll come too!” Lily walked towards the entrance of her house just in time to see you leaning on her son as you bent downwards, taking your tall heels off. You sighed in relief as you freed your feet from the pain, straightening up to be hit with a wave of nerves as you saw Harry's mum. “Hi, Mrs. Potter.” You greeted, dropping your heels by your feet to return the hug she was already pulling you into. “You look beautiful.” She muttered, holding you at arms length. But her compliment was immediately flipped around by her husband, who welcomed you with “You look so uncomfortable.”

“Trust me, Mr. Potter, I am.”

Harry slithered his fingers around your wrist, tugging you closer to him before letting go and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You smiled at him. “Oh dear, which family was it this time?” Your head shot up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, but you immediately recognised the man as Sirius Black. “The Parkinsons.” You replied with a playful roll of your eyes.

Sirius made a noise of disgust, adding. “It’s always them who have the most elaborate balls too.” “I know!” You exclaimed, glad to have someone who understood as you leant down to grab your shoes “And for what!? It’s not like anyone cares anyway! Everyone is bored out of their minds and keeping themselves busy trying not to show it!” You felt your cheeks heat up at a foreign laugh, and spotted Remus Lupin leaning against the wall. “Professor Lupin.” You greeted shyly, hoping he hadn’t told Harry’s parents of the unfortunate situation he caught you in. He echoed your name.

“Um, I’m sure my lovely girlfriend would appreciate it if you didn’t corner her like a pack of wolves, so we’re going to go upstairs, yeah?” Harry turned towards you at the end of his little speech, ensuring you actually felt that way, and you nodded eagerly. He snaked his fingers into yours, tugging you towards the stairs, but you warned him to slow down as they got closer. Harry pouted when you let go of his hand, but at the sight of you lifting your dress up to walk up the stairs like a princess, his eyes literally formed into hearts, staring at you with adoration. “Are we going or..?” Harry nodded, turning to rush up at stairs. He opened the door to his room before returning to you, letting you at the top of the staircase to guide you deeper into his childhood home. “Welcome to my room.” Harry said, gesturing around the room. He walked around you, closing the door softly and leaning on it, staring at you for a long moment.

“You can give me the tour and everything, but my first priority is getting out of this dress. So, can you untie me?” You spun around, the skirt of your dress rippling around you. Harry stared at your back with his jaw dropped as you moved your hair out of the way. “You’re asking me to… undress you?” You shot Harry an unimpressed yet amused look over your shoulder. “Oh please Potter, it’s nothing you haven’t done before.” He shut up at your retort, fingers finding the bottom of the lace up of the corset. “All of it?"

“Well, enough to get me out.” Harry hesitated, unsure where to start. You sighed, “It’s fine, I’m sure I can do it myself.” Harry shook his head, forgetting that you couldn’t see his response, and undid the bow at your lower back. He removed the lace string from the first hole. You stiffened. “Harry…” Your boyfriend hummed. “Are you sure you’re doing it right?” “Is there a way to get it wrong?” His nervous chuckle had you moving out of his grasp and you repeated “I’m sure I can do it myself, it’s fine.”

“I’ll ask my mum to come help-“ “No, don’t do that, Harry!” Two knocks on his door sounded. You both froze. Harry shuffled towards the door, opening it softly. His shoulders slumped in relief. “Oh good! Mum could you help?” “Harry!” Lily laughed at your scolding of her son, entering the room. She was carrying a tray with an array of snacks and drinks. “Oh, Mrs. Potter you didn’t have to!”

“That’s nonsense, what can I help with?” “Um can you undo me, please? Harry was doing it wrong.” Your voice was shy, quiet. Lily smiled, gesturing for you to turn around. You did, and she looked at the back of your lace up corset and laughed. “Harry, were you seriously about to untie her entire corset?” “She asked me to untie it!” Lily shook her head with an amused scoff, and began loosening your corset up. You held the dress up from the front, eyes beginning to tear up at the intimate moment.

You’d never had one of those with your mother.

Lily patted your shoulder, mumbling “You’re good.” and you sniffled, thanking her softly. Both Harry and his mother were immediately alert at the sound of crying in your voice, and Lily asked “Darling, are you alright?” You quickly wiped the tears from your face, spinning around and nodding with a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine! Perfect.” Lily tilted her head to the side before walking towards you and gently wrapping her arms around you. She brought her voice down to a whisper so Harry couldn’t hear, and said “I’m here if you need anything. Ever.”

And with that, she was strolling out of the room, leaving you teary eyed in your boyfriend’s room. Harry furrowed his eyebrows, watching as you sat down on his bed. He moved as much of your dress near you so he could sit as close to you as possible, one hand caressing your back softly. “My love, are you okay?” You nodded, looking at Harry and leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “I wasn’t kidding when I said getting out of this is my priority.” Harry chuckled, though he still sounded worried as he gathered the pyjamas you had owled him in a parcel last night. “Okay, how do we get you out?”

You laughed at Harry’s cluelessness, standing up and shuffling the dress down your body until it went past your hips and fell to the floor, pooling around you. “Oh.” Harry sat with wide eyes at the sight of you in nothing but a thong, and he internally begged for you to turn around so he could get a view at your bare chest. He shook himself out of his daze, frantically grabbing the top of your pyjama set. He stood up behind you, whispering a “Don’t get scared.” Before he pulled the fabric over your head. You slid your arms in the proper holes, turning around to snatch the cotton trousers off his bed. You slapped Harry’s arm, his eyes still glued to your ass.

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Sure you are.”

But Harry knew your words didn’t hold any actual annoyance in them because you were quickly placing your hands on his chest and pushing him down on his bed. He bounced softly on the mattress and you giggled, climbing on his lap and leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. Harry was immediately cupping the back of your head, keeping you close to him as you swiped your tongue on his bottom lip.

“Missed you so much.” Harry panted as he opened his mouth, his words muffling as you glided your tongue against his. He gripped your hip with his free hand and you rolled your hips onto his with a sigh. Harry moaned, bucking his hips up into you. “I missed you too.” You finally replied, sitting up straight. Harry propped himself up on his elbows, wondering why you had pulled away so suddenly.

He whined when you stood up again, and you sent him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry sweetheart, my second priority is taking my makeup off.”

Your boyfriend followed you up, placing his hands on your hips and pressing himself into your backside. “And third?” He whispered, prompting you to say him. You grinned, looking at him over your shoulder and muttering “Hair.”

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @juliet-017, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin, @hisparentsgallerryy, @liviessun, @rory-cakes, @heebiemcjeebies, @fl0weryannie, @muffinemmaa, @anne061989, @regsg18, @graciereads, @adharaoaklyn, @hawaii2320, @c0ldstvff, @bigbodycity

[chrattho1]

bsf!chris x reader

“what took you so long?”

summary: chris is in love with you more or less,he never made a move on you though, always scared that might ruin your friendship. but now that you’re taken—he wants you even more. in your grey set that he loves so much, you come around for a movie night and he is painfully hard the moment he sees you walk in.

warnings: male masturbation, pet names(?) idk what else to put in, not proofread

a/n: this is a blurb for my bsf! chris au,find more of it here

“we’re not watching cars for the third movie night in a row chris!” you snatch the remote from his hands and settle down next to him on the bed.

too close for his liking.

dont get him wrong, being close to you only makes him happy, the way you smell, the way your hair smells and sometimes tickles his face when you move. but right now he is focused on covering the lower half of his body with the covers, to say that he has a raging boner is an understatement.

“do whatever kid, and can you move i feel nauseated by your perfume” he puts his head on the headboard, trying to act like he is not in excruciating pain.

“woah there, whats got you all riled up?” you ask, tilting your face so its closer to his.

chris’s breath hitches the moment he feels your pretty features come close to his flushed ones. your long lashes fluttering as you blink at him in question, your plump lips sitting ideally waiting for an answer, a small strand of hair falling in between your eyes—right above your nose. god you’re beautiful.

“nothing im just snacky, mind getting me some snacks from downstairs?” he asks with a sincere smile.

you nod thinking nothing suspicious of it, he does get hangry alot so this was nothing new.

you walk out the room telling him to pick a movie before you come back.

chris watches you walk out, your ass swaying in perfect sync in that soft material that sticks to you, his thoughts not helping him one bit. he quickly puts a hand under the covers,reaching his hand down to adjust himself just a little bit before you come in again. that slight friction from his hands making him bite his lips.

“okay..i got you skittles and pepsi, thank you for restocking redbull before i come, you’re the best” the comment earning you a wink from chris to which you smile, his cheeky behaviour is not-not normal to you, thats how he has always been.

you both settle on watching “how to lose a guy in 10 days” , because , well chris lost the rock-paper-scissors game.

not even halfway through the movie, you notice chris moving every few moments, shifting and stirring next to you.

“motherfucker, could you stay still for a moment im trying watch the movie!” you yell lowly at him clearly not aware of the agony he is in right now.

“my allergies are making me itchy” chris whines and speaks softly knowing you’re too focused on the movie currently to actually pay attention or listen to him.

and then he realised it. you are too distracted.

“im going to go to the bathroom” he finally decides he’s going to do something about it or else he might come in his pants just by looking at you for so long (he has been staring this entire time, ofcourse).

you nod in response watching him go up to the bathroom attached to his room.

“turn the volume up will you? i wanna hear whats happening in the movie” he says standing by the doorframe of the bathroom, his oversized hoodie kind of covering the tent in his sweats.

“i can just pause it until you come back weirdo” you shrug at him with a mouth full of skittles.

“nah, i might take a little while” he smiles at your disgusted face, watching as you turn the volume up.

he closes the bathroom door behind him and lets out a huge sigh,he looks at himself in the mirror not believing what he is about to do with you sitting right outside.

he pulls his sweats down, looking down at his boxers which have a dark patch growing on them.

he cups his dick through them, biting his lips to prevent letting out any sounds.

he strokes himself a couple of times over his boxers before pulling them down,his cock springing up—desperate for touch more than ever, his tip swollen and leaking.

his thumb spreads the bead of pre-cum leaking from the tip, making him groan softly, his hand drags from there to the base of his dick, slowly starting to pump his slick cock in his hand.

“fuck” he curses softly, thinking about you— who is in his room right now, sitting on his bed, the bed that he has imagined doing the most unimaginable things to you on.

“oh—shiiit” his strokes get faster,the contact of his hand with his dick making wet sounds, but the movie playing outside is still louder.

“chris!” he hears you call him, but he doesn’t respond, scared his voice might betray him and let out a moan.

hearing your voice only made him feel closer, closer to cumming, cumming on your face, cumming in you, cumming in your mouth, these are all the things he thinks about, that grey set stained with his release.

“fuck-f-fuck-oh—-fuck ma- im-gon” his voice breaks apart with whimpers.

“ah—shit” with that, hot, white ropes of cum spray all over his hoodie.

his legs quiver when he looks down at the mess he’s made.

he quickly gets rid of the hoodie, balls it up and throws it into the laundry basket that he started keeping in the bathroom after nick told him too, thanks nick-he thinks.

he was still wearing a black tee under so he wasn’t walking out shirtless, its not like you’ve never seen him shirtless but he wanted to be decent (?)

he cleans himself up and walks out of the bathroom in a record of 6 mins. yes .

he sat down next to you,now comfortably snuggling close.

“what took you so long? and wheres your hoodie?” you ask him,noticing that his hoodie is not on him anymore

“had some bad food for dinner last night, and the hoodie was making me hot and itchy” he smiles at you when you reply with an “ew” not questioning his response.

taglist: @espressqe @ginswife @nononononshahsbba @sturnsburna @carolina454 @hope2244 @hotgirlbl0gger @violetstxrniolo777 @riggysworld @verycoolmiyah @kier-with-a-k @fadedstvrn @purpledreamertyphoon @mattsplaything @numberonekiddie @whore4chris @chris-hallelujah @sl4ttformattsturniolo @annsx03 @mattsdemi @chrisslittleslut @chrislittleslut @poolover123 @luvvnai @chrissturniolossidehoe @pompomprrin @idkwhatthisis2009 @harmonysturniolo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @soph-loren @ccsturns @lovesturni0l0s @chriss-slutt @wysmols @sturniolosluttt @mattsdillion @alyssa-sturn @herewegoagain-b @bilssturns @sturnobessed @mxnsonn @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosymphony @chrissturnioloswife88 @sxphiee3 @purpledreamertyphoon @whoreforchrissturnniolo

[saosinn]

let's show mac a magic trick you learned!

nsfw under the cut, amab mac!

for the first time in a while, you actually had a moment to relax, and do something other than sleep in your spare time. you'd been so overwhelmed with your work recently, barely able to take a moment to breathe. due to how busy you were, you hadn't interfaced with mac in days. so, now that you could, why not watch a movie with your partner?

you took the liberty of setting everything up, from the blankets to the snack selection, you were determined to not have to get up unless you absolutely needed to. you deserved to cuddle your computer for a few hours, damn it.

mac happily agreed when you brought this up, having missed you just as much these past few days. and with that, here you two were, nestled on the couch under the same blanket, mac's arm draped over your shoulders. while you were happy to spend time with them, to be able to hold them and be held so close by them, the movie you were watching was awful.

the two of you found more enjoyment in making fun of the movie than actually watching it, having endless material due to the poor line deliveries and awful cgi. you could only stay entertained for so long though, the jokes started to become repetitive, and the movie somehow managed to get worse as it went on. you kept nodding off, head falling foreword as you attempt to stay awake. snuggling further into mac certainly wasn't helping, but you did it nonetheless.

that's when it hit you, you had something that you wanted to try with mac! a few days ago, you were talking to harper, and you two somehow got on the topic of giving head. during this conversation she shared useful insight, like: giving you techniques to use to make it easier to breathe, how to prevent choking, how to keep your throat relaxed, etc.

with a cheshire-esque grin, you turned to mac. "hey, i learned something recently, it's like a magic trick, wanna see?" they nodded, raising a brow at your suspiciously gleeful behavior, but still they wore a smile when looking at you. slipping out of their hold, you kneeled in front of them, pulling the blanket off of their lap, "w-wait-!" to find that they were already hard.

their cheeks were bright red, hand coming up to cover the lower half of their face as they practically fought to avoid your gaze. you sat there, mouth ajar as you stared at them. "you're— wait, how long have you been hard?" the question hung in the air for a moment, mac's face now buried in their hands. "since the beginning of the movie." they admitted shamefully, like they were committing some sort of crime.

thinking about how uncomfortable mac must've been made you feel slightly guilty, how had you not noticed this entire time? with newfound determination, your hands began to unzip their fly. they practically jumped out of their skin at the contact, confused but also very desperate, so despite their embarrassment, they let you continue.

in no time their shorts were pooled around their ankles, their boxers sitting at the halfway point on their thighs while their ever so sensitive cock sat in your hand. without gripping too hard, you gave it a few pumps before gently licking the head, keeping eye contact with mac the entire time. their body jerked, stomach flexing from the sensitivity.

as much as you wanted to take your time with them, you were worried that they might explode if they go another ten minutes without cumming. pressing a chaste kiss to the tip, you brought your mouth down, tongue licking a long stripe from the base to their reddened head. with a deep breath, you tucked your thumb under your fingers, and took the entirety of their cock.

mac almost came immediately, eyes wide as their chest heaved as your head bobbed up and down. where the hell did you learn that? you were never bad at giving head, but your movements were never this confident. their hips bucked up into you, woah— you've never done that with your tongue before.

you'd barely started, but mac was already shaking with anticipation, the muscles of their thighs quivering under your hands. taking this as a challenge, you hollowed your cheeks and sped up your pace. a hand flew to your hair, the grip was harsh but not unwelcome. peering up through your lashes, you moaned loudly when you made eye contact with mac.

the vibrations of your moans made them see stars, breath hiccuping as they did their best to speak. "i-i'm— fuck! i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna cum-!" they barely got their warning out before it happened, their seed spilling into your mouth down your throat. for the first time tonight, you choked a bit, the force of it hitting the back of your throat a bit unexpected.

you brought your head back down, nose against their pubic bone, you couldn't risk wasting a drop. taking in a breath through your nose, you swallowed, the way your throat contracted around their cock making them whine in overstimulation. slowly, you pulled off of their cock, a quiet pop breaking the silence. deciding to be cheeky, you stayed in your position on the floor in front of them, letting their member lay against your face. chuckling breathlessly, they ran a hand through their hair before speaking. "where- where did you even learn how to do that?" giggling softly, another grin made it's way to your lips. "a magician never reveals their secrets."

— 𓈒 ❤︎︎ ࣪ ˖

7/3/25

THIS ONE SUCKS SO BAD I'M SO SORRY. I WROTE THIS IN LESS THAN AN HOUR W LIKE NO SLEEP ILL MAKE IT UP I SWUR.

[dannyriccsystem]

so random but could you do one where the reader flashes the driver 😭 during a podium, at home, wherever you feel like lol xx

TAKE A LOOK AT ME!

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

SUMMARY: You flash the drivers

WARNINGS: Mature, nudity, Y/N usage, not proofread

FEATURING: MV1, DR3, LN4, CL16, YT22, LH44, CS55, GR63, OP81

No Kimi or Ollie just because I feel a bit awkward writing them in this scenario 😇

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

Max was a busy guy. As your boyfriend, he always tried to make sure you were a part of his schedule one way or another. He didn’t want the two of you to grow distant, especially considering you were an anchor of sanity for him. Without you, he’d be a madman by now.

You always tried to reward him, whether it be with a gift or your undying love. He didn’t need these prizes, but Max certainly wouldn’t be complaining when he came home to a warm body to worship, or a good meal to keep himself full and happy. You took care of him just as much.

Today, he wanted to surprise you. It was a week off, and he woke up extra early to cook you breakfast. It was simple, nothing that required lots of skill or practice, but he knew you’d be happy nonetheless.

Indeed you were. You came waddling out into the kitchen, still partially asleep. One hand slid up your shirt to scratch your own stomach as you snatched a piece of bacon, humming in delight. “Max, baby,” You pointed to your half eaten bacon. “Cooked to perfection.”

He laughed and shook his head lightly, but you weren’t done. You held the piece between your teeth, using both hands to pull your pajama top up, letting your breasts spill free. His gaze dropped instantly, and he stared silently for what felt like hours.

He finally reached out to lift you, hoisting you up onto the counter. Max gently tugged your shirt back down. “That’s certainly one way to say thanks.” He kissed your lips, and then went back to cooking, leaving you to sit there. “Quit distracting me.” You both laughed.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

Danny always went all out for you. He pulled out all the stops, and that included date night. You were at the highest rated restaurant in all of Monaco currently— The waitlist was months long, but Danny managed to weasel his way into an earlier reservation. You didn’t know how to show your thanks.

When he left to quickly use the restroom, you got to scheming. You couldn’t just repay him with sex, because you did that anyway. It had to be something new— Something that surprised him. He had all the money in the world, so gifts were a lost cause. What did you get for someone who had nearly everything?

When he returned, you had an idea in the back of your mind. You were both securely tucked away in the corner of the restaurant, with your back to the rest of the room. He sat down, giving you a quick smile before picking up his menu again. There was lots to look at, but the menu wasn’t your biggest concern.

“Danny,” His head snapped up at your voice, and his jaw dropped. You had quickly pulled down the neckline of your dress, and your boobs popped out. He leaped over the table, careful to not knock anything over, and pulled your dress back up to cover your chest.

“Woah!” He settled back down, eyes still wide. “In public? Baby you know I love your tits, and it was a great surprise, but maybe we should keep those for my eyes only.” You laughed, straightening your dress out.

“Alright, alright. I just wanted to surprise you.” You winked, and he huffed a dramatic sigh, his hand over his heart.

“You certainly surprised me.”

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

Even if it was meant to be silly, and he’d never admit it, the nickname ‘Lando Nowins’ had weighed heavily on your boyfriend’s performance. He really loathed it, and was practically seething every time someone dared to call him the mean name. It started way back when you guys first began dating, meaning that throughout his Lando Nowins era, you were still there to support him.

Years ago you made a promise with him that once he made it to P1, you’d flash him while he was up there. Now, in 2024, you were certain he had forgotten that silly little deal, which would make it all the more fun considering he’s just finished first in the Miami Grand Prix. He was already ecstatic with his win, unable to completely process the glory.

You waited until he made it to the top step, holding up his trophy with a victorious stance. Then, as his eyes locked with yours, you made the move. You grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it up, only for a split second, but he for sure got a view of your breasts.

He suddenly fell silent, a look of disbelief on his face as Charles and Max sprayed him with champagne. Nobody but him noticed, including the thousands of people watching from the stands. That was a moment for just him, displayed to the public.

He snapped out of it and joined the others in his celebration, but he couldn’t seem to get the image of your topless body out of his mind.

He found you in his drivers room afterwards, and immediately pushed you back up against the door, pulling your shirt up just enough to slide his head underneath, followed by your giggles.

“Did you forget about that promise?” You asked, holding back your laughter as he buried his face between your boobs.

“I did, and I’m glad I did.” He hummed, breathing you in. “A pleasant surprise.”

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

Charles was in one of his slumps lately. Ferrari had not been performing to his liking, and it was taking a toll on his mental state. It was obvious with the way he moped around the house, usually cuddling with Leo in silence.

You tried various things to cheer him up. You offered to go on a walk with him and Leo, made his favorite food, put on his favorite movie— Everything. You even tried terrible jokes, which usually just made him pity laugh. You finally decided to pull out your trump card— Something you had been saving for dire situations. You planned on using it to get out of an argument, or persuade him into doing you a favor, but this was more important.

You approached him during one of his moping sessions. He was sitting on the couch watching TV, that same frown that’s been haunting him the past week ever so present. You stood right in front of him, blocking his view. As he looked up, you pulled your shirt up, effectively flashing your tits.

He couldn’t help but smile, a laugh leaving his lips as he covered his eyes with one hand. “Mon ange, what are you doing?!”

“Cheering you up,” You replied before putting the hem of your shirt between your teeth, and climbing on his lap. He lowered his hands to your hips, staring down at your chest without shame.

“It worked. It definitely worked.” Yeah, you could feel that it worked.

—

YUKI TSUNODA - YT22

Yuki was not a morning person. It took forever to get that man out of bed, and then for the following thirty minutes he’d just complain about how he wanted to go back to sleep. Eventually he’d shut up and carry on with his day, but the whole ordeal was no fun for either of you.

“Yuuuukkki, wake up.” You were sat on your knees hunched over him, shaking his side. He groaned, grabbing his pillow and putting it over his ears— Acting like a drama queen, that’s for sure. “Yuki, it’s time to wake up! Quick, there’s a fire in the house!” No response. This guy had zero survival instincts.

You tried for probably another five minutes, using various tactics to wake him up. You even tried wafting the smell of his favorite food in front of his nose, but it didn’t work. You were finally starting to give up, deciding he could just sleep some more, when you suddenly remembered his greatest weakness: Your boobs.

“Yuki, my tits are out-” You were gonna finish your sentence by saying ‘you have to wake up to see’ but he immediately sat up, staring directly at you. You sat on your knees on the bed, your pajama top lifted to reveal your chest.

“I’m up.”

“I can’t believe that worked…”

—

LEWIS HAMILTON - LH44

Lewis was a guy who loved nature. He was always dragging you along on hikes, despite the fact they weren’t your favorite thing. He wanted to share his passions with you, and since racing wasn’t something you could quickly join in on, he figured hiking would be just as good.

You complained half the time, but then would be super ecstatic when you came back, like it was the best hike of your life. He didn’t really get your weird way of showing enthusiasm, but he found it entertaining nonetheless.

Today, you were extremely tired, but Lewis just kept pushing the limit. Every time you’d stop to catch your breath, he’d tell you “just a bit further.” Every. Single. Time.

You finally got sick of his nonsensical behavior, and decided to give him a reason to turn around. You stopped, taking a moment to catch your breath before calling out to him. He turned around to face you, and then you quickly lifted your shirt, leaving him speechless.

“Can we turn back now?” You asked as you lowered your shirt, leaning over to continue with your deep breathing.

You could hear him swallow, loud as hell. “Yes. Yes we can.” Good use of free will.

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

You actually had a good reason for this. Ever since the move to Williams, Carlos hadn’t been feeling quite like himself. He was struggling with the major downgrade, even with the immense amount of support he was receiving. From you, from his new co-workers, from the fans. It certainly made the blow less harsh.

He just kept getting in his head about things. He wasn’t the smooth operator anymore— He was just your average racer, trying to drag a less than perfect car to the finish line. You could tell he wasn’t suffering on the track, so you chose to surprise him.

One day you came home a little later than normal, and he greeted you with a confused expression, along with his normal forehead kiss. “Where were you?” Coming home late typically meant you were running errands, but your hands were empty.

You didn’t give a proper reply. Instead, you lifted your shirt. Your breasts spilled free, but that’s not what he was focused on. Nestled between them was the number 55– His number. He melted on the spot, grabbing your hips.

“Do you like it?” He nodded, unable to say anything. He leaned down, but you gently pushed his head back. “I just got it done, so no kisses there.”

“Fine,” He grumbled begrudgingly, instead opting to kiss both breasts tenderly. “Your support means everything to me…”

—

GEORGE RUSSELL - GR63

Your boyfriend was always without his damn shirt. At home, after races, on his instagram— The world got to see his abs. At first you were always startled when he paraded around your home without a top on, but eventually it became part of the norm.

You could only wonder how he’d react if the roles were reversed. What if one day you just started to walk around with a shirt or bra? The curiosity got to be too much, so one day when you excused yourself to the bathroom, you stripped down to just your pants, letting everything up top hang loose.

You came back, flaunting yourself as if it were nothing abnormal. George noticed immediately, his eyes shamefully staring at your assets as your strutted by. He kept his firm gaze, jaw clenched and all, trained on you. Finally, he couldn’t keep silent anymore and addressed the elephant in the room.

“What are you doing?” You bit back a laugh, turning around to face him. He didn’t seem to mind, but it was definitely out of the ordinary.

“You walk around shirtless all the time. I just wanted to join.” He nodded thoughtfully. He didn’t even seem that fazed by your behavior.

George shrugged, “You got me there.”

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

Oscar Piastri was a gentleman at heart. He knew you were a capable person, but he always held doors open for you, pulled your seat out, offered you his jacket— Everything. He wasn’t stuck up about it, though. If the roles happened to be reversed, he’d politely accept your kind behavior.

Oscar is the type of guy to ask you if you want to come back to his house at the end of the date because he sincerely just wants to continue being around you, not because he’s looking for a quick fuck. He was the perfect guy— You, on the other hand, were his more devious match that paired with his gentlemanly demeanor perfectly.

He could tell you had something up your sleeve all night, because you were abnormally giggly. He just didn’t expect it to quite literally be up the sleeve of your jean jacket, which topped the nice dress you wore to the date nicely.

“A gift for you,” You held out a small photo, face down for him. He raised a brow, and hesitantly took the polaroid picture from you. His cheeks flared up in a bright red cover and he quickly laid it back down on the table, covering it with his hand.

“Why do you have that?!” It was a photo of you, wearing only a pair of heels and his racing helmet. You laughed at his dramatic reaction, sliding the photo back into your own grasp.

“Did you not like it?” You asked, faking a pout as you tucked it back into your bra.

“Well- Obviously I did, but why-?!” He shook his head, laughing at your antics.

“Why not?” Evil laughter ensued.

[shanastoryteller]

Dean’s minding his own business, sipping on a beer and leering at the bartender, when a guy that admittedly has about four inches and a good twenty pounds of muscle on him storms over and shoves him in the arm.

He tenses, getting to his feet and preparing for a fight even as he’s wondering what he did to piss him off. Maybe the bartender’s his girl? Jesus, Dean was just looking, he can’t get mad at just looking when his girl look likes that.

“Dude, what the hell?” the guy demands. “I know you’re pissed at me right now, but just leaving me back there – do you know how many bars it took to find you? You’re a jackass.”

He’s not taking a swing, instead standing with crossed arms – fuck, this guy is huge, he’d really like to avoid a fight here – and scowling at him, his long hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at him. Dean wishes he had any idea what was going on right now. “Look, man, relax.” The guy’s eyes narrow, his shoulders lifting and expanding as he takes in a deep breath, as if he needs any help to look bigger. Before he can say anything, Dean adds, “I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Fuck off.” He presses his lips together, somehow appearing smaller in the next moment without actually moving. “Look, I know you’re mad about heaven, you’ve made that pretty fucking clear, but you can’t just walk off and turn off your phone. I figured you were just being an ass, but something could have happened to you. If you’re ignoring me, at least let me know you’re ignoring me.”

The guy doesn’t look like he’s tweaking, or suffering some sort of head injury. His eyes are clear and his voice is steady. But Dean has no idea what he’s talking about. “Dude, you’ve really got me confused with someone else.”

“Dean!” he snaps, which woah, okay, he wasn’t expecting that. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” he says. “How do you know my name?”

He stares at him, uncertainty entering his eyes for the first time. “Are you feeling okay? You didn’t come across Zachariah or a witch or something in the past couple hours?”

He doesn’t know who Zachariah is, but the casual mention of witches makes him frown. Is this guy a hunter or something? He figures he’d remember meeting him, but maybe not.

“Everything okay over here?” Dad’s hand lands heavily on his shoulder, and Dean shifts enough to see him giving the guy a hard stare that has sent more than one man running in the other direction.

Dean almost rolls his eyes – he’s thirty one years old, he doesn’t need his dad coming over to save him – but he makes the effort so rarely that Dean can’t help but be warmed by it.

The guy pales, mouth dropping open as he stares at Dad like he’s seen a ghost. “You – Christo.”

Okay, definitely a hunter. Dad raises an eyebrow. “I’m not a demon.”

The guy grabs for Dean, yanking on his hand. Dean jerks back, but he’s already gotten his long fingers around his ring. He pulls it off and Dean is about to break his jaw to get it back, but he tosses it to Dad, who catches it on instinct. Dean doesn’t get it until he does. His ring is silver. He’s checking if Dad is a shifter, which okay, that’s one thing. Dean’s more concerned about how he knows his ring is silver. The guy’s voice cracks when he says, “Dad?”

Dad raises an eyebrow. “I think you’re a little confused.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” he asks, grabbing onto the sleeve of his jacket. Dean should push him off. “What,” his gaze drops down, and if possible he goes even paler. “Oh. Oh, fuck.”

Dean looks down, sees the guy’s eyes stuck on his amulet. “What?”

“I don’t understand,” he says, biting on his lower lip. “Is this some sort of – but you’re still hunters. Is Mom alive?”

Dean flinches.

“Okay,” Dad says. “That’s enough. You walk this off or whatever, but you do it somewhere else–”

“Dad, it’s me,” he says plaintively. “It’s Sam. Your son.”

Dean doesn’t remember moving, only that the next moment his hands are fisted in the front of this asshole’s shirt, his blood thrumming under his skin. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

He puts his hands on Dean’s wrists, stupid earnest and soft and Dean’s going to kick his ass. “Dean. It’s me. I have to exist in this world, right? The demon was after me, if I wasn’t here then there wouldn’t have ben a fire, Mom wouldn’t have died, you guys wouldn’t be hunters. I have to be around somewhere.”

Dean tries to shove him away, but he won’t let go of his hands. “Shut up! You don’t – don’t talk about my family.”

The worst thing he ever did, his biggest failure. Sometimes the weight of it gets to be so heavy that it feels like it should be cracking his ribs, pressing his heart until it bursts. Sometimes he wishes it would.

He swallows before letting go with one hand and reaching into his pocket to pull something out. It takes Dean a moment to see it’s his amulet, the one he’s worn since he was twelve years old, back when Bobby still talked to them. “My name is Samuel Winchester. I was named after my mother’s father. I was born on May 2, 1983. When I was eight years old, Bobby gave me this amulet. He said it was a protection charm. I was originally planning to give it to Dad for Christmas, but he didn’t show up. Another in a long line of disappointments, right? So I gave it to you instead. Because even when you’re being a jerk, you’ve never let me down.”

Dean’s eyes are burning. He tries to shake off his grip, but he won’t let go. Why is Dad just standing there? “Stop! Stop. I don’t know what game you’re playing–”

“No game,” he says, gentle voice a counterpoint to the grip that’s absolutely going to bruise. “I need you to believe me, Dean, please–”

“My brother died when he was six months old,” he cuts him off. “Samuel Winchester is dead. He’s been dead for twenty six years.”

His fault, his fault, all his fault. If he’d just listened to Dad –

“Not where I’m from,” he says, and it’s crazy, it’s all crazy. “Please. Ask me anything. I’ll prove it. Hell, let’s go to a clinic, we can take a DNA test. I’m Sam. I’m your brother. And I need your help.”

“You mentioned a demon,” Dad says quietly.

The guy, who’s not Sam, who can’t be Sam, tears his eyes away from Dean to look at Dad. “Yeah. Azazel. The yellow eyed demon.”

Dad rubs a hand over his mouth. “I never told anyone about that.”

Dean snaps his head towards Dad. “What? You said you didn’t know what killed Mom! That we were searching for it!”

“We are,” Dad says. “It never resurfaced again. I’ve been looking for the signs.”

The guy frowns. “He started up again when I was twenty two.”

“Not here,” Dad says, looking him up and down, something hungry in his eyes.

Dad believes him. Dad thinks that this is Sammy.

“Let’s discuss this back at the room,” Dad says. “Come on.”

He heads towards the door, sure that he’s going to be followed. The – Sam, maybe Sam, he rolls his eyes, but goes after him. He only stops when his grip on Dean’s wrist jerks him back, because Dean’s not moving, can’t make himself move. He flushes, letting go of Dean finally, but he takes a step closer. His eyebrows pull together in concern, and now that Dean’s looking, he sort of sees it, sees the planes of Dad’s face and his eyes in this stranger with his brother’s name. “Hey, are you okay?”

No.

“Let’s go,” he says, striding forward, shoulders hunched.

Sam falls into step beside him easily, matching his strides like it’s second nature. Dean swallows around the lump in his throat and tries to pretend it means nothing.

[st7rnioioss]

𓂅 ♥︎ ❛❛15 MINUTES❜❜

⋆ ˚ .ೃ ࿔ * pairing... skater!chris x girly!reader

𓂃 ֹ ᮫ in which... skater!chris and girly!reader really should be on their way to a birthday party... but she's got other plans.

warnings... smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, grinding/dry humping, swearing.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ “oh, my god. stop, y’know we gotta be out the door in like.. fifteen minutes, doll.” chris whined, his larger hands running down the sides of your waist, steadying the swirling of your hips on top of his, his eyes gazing at your tits that were pressed together in your tight top, basically spilling out of the delicate fabric.

chris was rock hard, his cock obviously tenting through the dark material of his jeans. the restraint of his boxers only made it worse, the material already sticky from his precum, and clinging to his flushed cock. not only were you grinding on top of him like there was no tomorrow, but he now he had to change his clothes too.. yeah, you were gonna be pretty late for your friends birthday if he had to even get you off his lap.

you shook your head, biting even harder down on your lip to conceal any noises that threatened to leave, which you eventually gave up on. “n-no.. it’ll only take a second. i can do a lot with fifteen minutes, chris.” the soaking fabric of your panties creating a dark, moist patch on his jeans, every word that left his lips, that were glistening with your saliva, making you gush even more.

your pussy was aching and needy for him to fill you up, and you decided to act on it, despite the pressure of time. he just looked way too good dressed up, his hair styled. “wha- baby, what are you doing?” chris asked when you started undoing his belt, the rolling of your hips coming to a stop.

“m’not doing anything… just wanna make you feel good, please?” even though you asked so nicely, you didn’t really care what he answered. you dragged his pants down, staring at the damp patch on his boxers. “woah. all this, from that..?” you tried not to stare too much out of respect, looking up at him with a proud smile, giggling softly.

“yeah, whatever.. jus’ keep going, we don’t have a lot of time.” he murmured shyly as his cheeks turned a light pink, helping you maneuver his underwear down his thighs, just enough for his erection to spring free. chris’s face was bright red in embarrassment from how ridiculously, painfully hard he was—he knew he wouldn’t last long, and it didn’t exactly stoke his ego too much.

his length was throbbing, obviously aching in a pleasurable sense of pain, his tip red and flushed. glistening too—the whole head of his cock sticky, and trickling precum from his tip. yeah, he definitely wouldn’t last long. “i don’t need time, christopher. only gonna take two to make you finish,” you could’ve been gaping at the sight of his needy cock, but you decided there was no time for that, already in a hurry.

oh, he wished you were lying. the second he moved your panties to the side, revealing your sloppy cunt under your skirt, and he had your warmth wrapped around him, he knew you were right about what you said. every single inch of your pussy stretched out around his fat dick made him lose his mind, his eyes stuck to the back of his skull.

“holy shit- y’feel so fucking good.. mhh- m’not gonna last long..” he whimpered, the relief of finally having you on top of him making him edge closer, and closer to fill you up by the second, even though you barely even got started yet.

a sharp gasp fell from your lips when you felt the girth of him stretch you out, your nails digging into his shoulder through his shirt. “fuck- me neither.. you’re so big, feels so good,” you nearly drooled at the pure stretch of him, the words coming out hurried.

carefully, you started grinding your hips into his with a loud whine, your clit brushing against his pelvis as you desperately tried to hold on and savor the moment for a second or two, but you knew you had run out of patience long ago. “d-don’t stop— that’s good, baby.. you’re so pretty like this,” he groaned, his blunt fingernails pressing into your waist while you tried to keep up your pace.

you felt every ridge and vein of his dick rub against your insides, his tip kissing you g-spot every time your body smacked against his. “n-not gonna last, chris.. need t’cum,” you moaned, your face flushing from arousal, your cunt fluttering around his length.

you were both a mess, chris’s fingers sneaking up your body to cradle your face in his hands, pulling you in for a kiss. every moan the two of you let out harmonized, swallowed by the kiss. it didn’t take long before you were clenching around him, struggling to kiss back as you reached your high, your sensitive, swollen clit rubbing against his pelvis with every thrust.

chris helped you ride out your high by bucking his hips up into yours, watching you as the waves of pleasure took over you, a wet squelch emitted from where your bodies connected.

chris’s mind turned to haywire, completely entranced by the sight of your face scrunching up in pleasure, moan after moan of his name falling off your tongue like you had no care in the world.

“j-jesus christ.. m’gonna cum— “ chris barely got to warn, before the white stripes of his warm released coated your insides, painting them white. you were way too out of your mind to realize, until you felt the sensation trickle down your inner thighs when he pulled out of you.

“are you kidding me? chris!” you whined, watched the mess that was sticking to your skin. he looked guilty, almost like a kicked puppy, until a smile grew on his lips.

“sorry! i just- i didn’t have time to pull out, you looked too good!” he defended, but you eventually gave up and laughed along with him, leaning into his body. “we’ll definitely have to clean this up,” you mumbled, quickly checking the time on your phone while he nodded, carefully raking his fingers through your hair.

“what did i say! only took me two minutes,” you proudly showed him the time with a big smile, proving you had in fact only spent two minutes and probably a couple seconds. “fine, whatever.. let’s get you cleaned up then,” he changed the subject with a smirk, giving your ass a quick squeeze when you both got up to run off to the bathroom.

more skater!chris x girly!reader here!

˚𝜗𝜚 notes... siiiiigihh i hate my own writing. someone else also made a fic based on this song, but i forgot who!

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @sierrraaaaxz @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog @courta13 @sweetrelieef @loverboysturn @sturns-mermaid @cutseylady @sofieeeeex @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @mattsturnii @conspiracy-ash

❛❛ © ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023 ❜❜

[jibitzlesscrocs]

Can you write a fix where reader is ovulating around Matt or Chris and she's absolutely feral (you can what else you wanna do with it too)

chris sturniolo x reader

warning : smut , breeding kink, p n v, praises

need you now

in which, you’re feral and ovulating

You didn’t even mean for it to happen. You weren’t planning on climbing into Chris’s lap like you needed him more than oxygen. You hadn’t meant to grind down on his thigh like it was the only thing keeping you sane. But the second he pulled you into his arms that night, hoodie, hands warm on your hips, voice low in your ear — something in you snapped.

You were aching. Deep, throbbing, and borderline out of control. Your whole body screamed for him. Chris noticed the second your nails dug into his shoulders.

“Woah, baby,” he chuckled, his tone teasing but warm. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”

You couldn’t answer — not properly. Your lips crashed into his, desperate, messy, hands tugging at the waistband of his sweats like your life depended on it.

His eyes darkened. “You’re fuckin’ shaking.”

“I need you,” you whispered, breath hot against his neck. “Please, Chris. Something’s wrong with me, I—I just need you inside me. Now.”

That was when his teasing stopped.

He leaned back just enough to look at you — to see the wild need behind your eyes. You were flushed, pupils blown, grinding on him without shame.

“Oh,” he murmured. “It’s your fuckin’ hormones, isn’t it?” You nodded quickly, lips parting as you whimpered. “I’m ovulating. I can feel it. I need you to fuck it out of me, Chris. Please.”

Chris let out the quietest groan. “Jesus fuck.”

He cupped your face, kissing you softer this time — but deeper. “You should’ve told me you were in heat, baby,” he whispered, fingers already dipping into your waistband. “You smell like it. You feel like it. Fuckin’ dripping through your panties and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

⸻

By the time your clothes hit the floor, you were already trembling. Chris had you on your back, thighs spread wide, hair fanned out across the pillows. He was still half-dressed, stroking his cock slowly as he stared down at you.

“Look at you,” he muttered, smirking. “So needy. All wet and swollen just from my voice.” “Please—just fuck me already—” “Oh, no no.” He grabbed your thighs and pushed them wider. “Not yet. Gotta admire what’s mine first.”

His hands were everywhere, your hips, your belly, your thighs. Gripping, holding, claiming.

“This is my pussy,” he said, dragging his fingers through your slick folds. “You know that, right?”

“Yes—yes, it’s yours, always—”

“You want me to fill it up? Pump it full? Stuff you so full of cum you’ll feel me dripping out for hours?” You cried out, head falling back. “Yes, Chris—please. Need you to fuck a baby into me—”

He hissed at that.

“Fuck, you say it like that and I might not last long.”

He lined himself up and sank into you in one slow, filthy thrust. Your eyes rolled back as he bottomed out, deep and thick inside you.

“That’s it, baby. Nice and full.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Feel that stretch? That’s your body opening up for me.” He started to move — deep, rhythmic thrusts, slow enough to savor, rough enough to make your toes curl. His hips met yours perfectly, every inch of you alive with sensation.

“You were made for this,” he growled. “This pussy was made to take me.” You were moaning endlessly now, babbling nonsense, scratching at his back like you couldn’t take it.

“You’re gonna cum?” he murmured in your ear. “Good girl. Wanna milk my cock? Make me breed you nice and deep?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—do it, please—”

Chris held you down, his thrusts turning sharp, frantic. “Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna give this desperate little pussy what it needs.” Your orgasm hit hard — blinding, breathless. You clenched around him, crying out as he slammed into you one last time, groaning low and filthy as he emptied inside you.

He didn’t pull out. Didn’t move.

He just stayed buried deep inside, hands sliding down your sides, kissing your sweat-slick cheek as you trembled underneath him.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “All of you. And if your body wants me this bad? I’m not letting it go to waste.”He pulled back just enough to watch himself still twitching inside you. “Let’s keep it in for a bit, yeah? Make sure it takes.”

taglist : @courta13 , @sunkissedsturniolos , @ivysturnss , @imsoborediwannadie , @beabadoobeeluvr2 , @moth-feeet , @lezleeferguson-120 , @theowensturniolo , @leahfaith , @nickysturnss , @mattspillowprincess , @mqttsbunnyies , @passionfruitchris , @emely9274 , @riggysworld , @kenah-sturniolo , @hannahsturniolo , @tezzzzzzzz , @kenah-sturniolo , @sturniolo-szn2 , @stayingstromboli , @obsessedwiththesturniolos , @ph3ebssturniolo

MAI’S STORE

chris for the first time in forever

[saintaeryne]

You’re uncomfortable being by yourself, and it’s ruining your life.

We’re all human beings, and it’s in our nature to crave interaction. To yearn for hour-long talks and constant messages. And this is normal, it’s perfectly fine. We all experience it. 

Problem comes when it reaches a point where you can’t survive without it. When your social media becomes the centre of your life, and you can't stop checking/refreshing/posting in hopes of getting some more of that sweet, fresh interaction. When you can’t sit for 5 minutes without needing to talk to someone.

You’re uncomfortable with being by yourself. Don’t get it? Let me rephrase. You are not able to sit in your own mind and be content. You can’t be alone with your thoughts, and this trouble comes when all your thoughts are inherently negative. When all your thoughts are about how you look, all alone and pathetic. About your appearance or something embarrassing that made you feel bad.

“Aeryne— how do I combat that?”

Well…

Be okay with being boring. Be okay with your thoughts going to “what am I going to have for lunch” or “that movie I watched was really interesting, let’s think about a scene I liked” Be okay with your thoughts being absolutely mundane.

Start observing. I’m sure you’ve seen babies or little children. They give you that thousand yard stare sometimes, because they’re always observing. We live in a life of stimulation, that doesn’t need to be your phone or your social media. Look at the colour of that wall, guess how fast that car is going. Fill up your time with some good old observations.

Get used to the fact that being alone is okay. And that no one else’s thoughts should affect yours. If someone thinks sitting alone = pathetic, loner, disgusting, I think they’re in for a rude awakening that life isn’t a 2005 coming of age movie. 

Now that we’ve changed your mentality a little, let me talk about the beauty of being solitary. The way of being alone.

Being alone, and having “me” time is so wonderful. God- being able to think about myself, and only myself? Not worrying about how my replies sound to others? My tones in speech? Glorious. When you’re alone, you have no one else to appease or listen to. Only yourself, so listen.

Woah- did you realise that? You can actually hear your thoughts. In this world of action, my mind is detached from all that hustle and bustle. There’s no one else’s thoughts or words filling up my logical reasoning. Just my own. 

Treasure your time with yourself. Realise what I’ve told you, apply it and you’re going to be comfortable with being by yourself. Here’s a personal challenge, if you can:

—Turn off all your notifications for an hour.

—Observe your surroundings.

—Listen to the thoughts, appreciate them.

thank you for listening, sweet ones.

xoxo,

Saint Aeryne 

[twst-aceofhearts]

Can you write a floyd x touch starved reader because their family on earth isn't all that affectionate?

Squeeze First, Act Later

𝖆/𝖓: starting to post fics with no header because it keeps tweaking out TUMBLR WHY IT WAS WORKING FINE BEFORE and WOAH TWO IN ONE DAY?!

𝖙𝖜: none

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: floyd x touch starved!reader

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘: 990

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe @oya-oya-okay @writingattemptsxx

Floyd Leech wasn’t exactly subtle about his affections. If he liked you, you knew it. If he really liked you, you were getting lifted, squished, teased, and dragged around like a personal toy. For most people, it was a lot.

But for you?

It was everything.

Because back home—on Earth—hugs were rare. Your family wasn’t bad, exactly. Just... cold. Distant. Not the kind to ruffle your hair or pull you into a sleepy cuddle on the couch. Not the kind to hold your hand when you were sad or lean against you just because.

And here was Floyd, invading your space from day one like he’d always belonged there.

At first, it overwhelmed you. All the sudden touch—arms slung around shoulders, hands tugging at your clothes, fingers flicking your forehead. But instead of shrinking away, you found yourself... craving it.

Needing it.

Even when he was teasing you, it felt like warmth in your chest. Like something had been frozen for a long time and was finally starting to thaw.

One lazy afternoon in Octavinelle, you sat on the couch in the lounge, head tilted back, eyes closed. Floyd plopped down beside you with zero warning, sprawling dramatically across your lap.

“Eeeeeh? You look all gloomy again,” he drawled, staring up at you upside-down. “You gonna cry or something?”

You blinked down at him. “No, just tired.”

He didn’t move. If anything, he melted further into you, head resting heavy against your thigh. One hand lazily reached up, fingers toying with yours.

You stiffened slightly at first—then let him. The casual intimacy made your heart squeeze, but you didn’t pull away.

Floyd’s sharp gaze flicked up to your face. “You always get all stiff when I touch you,” he said, tone unusually serious. “But you never stop me. Weird, huh?”

You swallowed, not meeting his eyes. “I’m not used to it.”

“Huh?” He propped himself up on one elbow. “Used to what?”

“…Being touched. My family wasn’t really... affectionate.”

Floyd stared at you. Not laughing. Not smirking. Just watching.

“Like, no hugs and stuff?” he asked after a pause.

You nodded.

“…That suuucks,” he finally muttered, as if personally offended. “No wonder you always look all surprised when I hug you. You’re like—‘whoa! what’s this??’” He mimicked your expression, then flopped back down dramatically.

You huffed a laugh.

He was quiet for a moment. Then—

“Hey, shrimpy.”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna try it?”

“…Try what?”

“Hugs. All the time. No reason. Just ‘cause.”

Your breath caught. Slowly, you nodded.

Floyd sat up, wrapped his long arms around you, and pulled you into a tight squeeze. His chin rested on your shoulder, hair tickling your cheek.

“Like this?” he murmured.

You couldn’t speak. You just buried your face in his chest, fingers gripping the back of his jacket like you were afraid he’d disappear.

Floyd didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to.

From that day on, you never had to ask for affection. He gave it freely, generously, with all the intensity that was so him. And every touch, every nudge, every sudden arm slung over your shoulders, felt like rewriting a part of you that had gone too long without love.

It started with the small things.

Floyd wasn’t any less chaotic—he still skipped class, still dragged freshmen around by the collar, still threatened to squeeze anyone who annoyed him.

But there was a softness now. A strange, quiet shift that only those who knew him best could spot.

Azul noticed it first.

“Floyd,” he said one afternoon, eyeing the scene before him with a furrowed brow. “Why are you… braiding their hair?”

Floyd glanced up, lazily twisting another lock of your hair between his fingers.

“‘Cause I wanna, duh,” he grinned. “Shrimpy said no one ever played with their hair before. So I’m makin’ up for lost time.”

Azul stared. You were seated on the floor between Floyd’s knees, shoulders relaxed and eyes half-lidded in contentment. If Azul didn’t know better, he’d have said you were about to fall asleep right there in Floyd’s lap.

That was new.

“…I see,” Azul said, adjusting his glasses. “Just don’t skip your shift again. We have guests at seven.”

“Uh-huh,” Floyd hummed, clearly not listening. He patted your head twice—gently, as if memorizing the shape of it. “Shrimpy first, work later.”

Azul opened his mouth to protest, then stopped. There was no menace in Floyd’s voice. No biting sarcasm. Just something warm and unfamiliar.

Jade, meanwhile, had been watching this change with quiet fascination.

Later that night, while Azul reviewed the lounge’s earnings and Floyd dozed off with his head on your shoulder in the back booth, Jade leaned over and said softly, “I think he’s happier.”

Azul glanced over the rim of his teacup. “Hm?”

“Floyd,” Jade said, smiling faintly. “He’s been more even-tempered. He hasn’t threatened to sink anyone in days.”

“That’s… unsettling.”

“And he lets them hold his hand.”

Azul choked slightly on his tea.

Floyd Leech, who bit people for touching him wrong, letting someone hold his hand?

“You think they’re—?” Azul asked, eyes narrowing.

“In some way,” Jade mused. “Floyd doesn’t do anything halfway.”

Azul’s gaze drifted back toward the two of you. Your hand was loosely linked with Floyd’s, his fingers curled around yours even in sleep. You looked peaceful.

And Floyd, for once, didn’t look like a live wire about to snap.

Azul exhaled. “If this makes him easier to work with, I won’t complain.”

Jade chuckled, eyes gleaming. “Oh, I wouldn’t say easier. But definitely more tender.”

Later, as you gently brushed Floyd’s bangs from his face, you murmured, “You okay with them watching us like that?”

“Mhm,” Floyd mumbled without opening his eyes. “Lemme show off. I like bein’ yours.”

You smiled. “I like being yours too.”

He cracked one eye open, grin sharp but affectionate.

“Then I’m gonna keep touchin’ you until you never feel lonely again.”

And true to his word—he did.

credit to @fae-and-wolf for divider

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny hadn't ever been on this side of the equation before.

He stared at his old phone, the prickle of unease scratching at his neck.

Danny was the one that died. He was the one that died and came back. He'd never asked anyone how it had felt to see him die over and over again to become Phantom. Danny was starting to think that maybe he should have, if only so that he wouldn't be blindsided about what he felt now.

"Danny? Y'okay?"

Danny glanced up at the mumbled words, numbed eyes looking at Jason's sleep-heavy face.

"Hm?"

"Ya've been lookin' at that thing for an hour now. You good?"

Danny blinked at him, like the world was a sea of bittersweet molasses and he was the sailor drowning beneath its waves. "...Remember how I told you that you reminded me of my sister?"

There was apprehension on Jason's face now. It was a gentle kind of apprehension, softened by worry and love.

“Yeah…?”

Danny gestured for Jason to come closer. He opened the phone and tapped on Jazz.

“Woah. She kinda looks like me.” Jason tugged at his black hair. “Y’know, if I kept my red hair.”

Danny smiled, sad and tired. “Yeah. She really liked reading. And she always wanted to know more. Help more. Like you,” Danny’s eyes laid on the folded uniform of Robin on the kitchen table. He hugged Jason closer. “You remind me of her.”

“What… what happened to her?”

Danny hadn’t cried for a long, long time. Even when Jazz spoke to him in half remembered whispers and in Jason’s actions, he could not shed a tear. But something about today, something about those pictures, opened up a poorly scabbed wound and Danny’s face dripped with slow tears.

“She died,” he whispered. “I brought the vigilante life to her and she died protecting me.”

“Oh. That’s why you were so mad, then.” Jason looked down at the picture, blue eyes tracing the face of the woman that looked so similar to him.

“Yeah.”

“I won’t die, Danny,” Jason promised.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jay." Danny squeezed Jason's shoulders before wiping away his tears. He inhaled, a slow, shuddering breath, before straightening. "You are so grounded."

"But- Robin!"

"Jason will always come before Robin. And Jason is grounded because Jason lied to me about being Robin and where he was going and whether or not he was safe."

And really, wasn't that the crux of the issue? Danny didn't have any problem with Jason going out and starting fights. He had no problem with how Jason wanted to help. But the thought of loosing him- loosing his loved ones after only learning to keep them clutched to his heart before he looses them- drove Danny down a spiral that he could not afford to enter again.

How many times had Danny almost lose Jason? How many times did he come to loosing the only good thing in Gotham? How many times had he laid asleep, not knowing whether Jason was bleeding out in an alley somewhere? How close had Danny come to waking up to news of Jason's cold corpse?

It made him furious. More than that, it made him terrified. Never in his half life had he ever been afraid to this extent. Not even for Jazz. It made him want to drown the feeling with enough booze to down a speedster. But he couldn't. Not now, not with Jason. His little brother deserved better than that. Not to mention the shit his little brother would get up to if he weren't fully there.

"But first, you gotta help me with something."

"... Fine."

Danny got up and bee-lined towards his booze stash. They're going out. Right now. He shoved the bottles into a tote bag.

"Let's go. We're destroying this."

"We are?"

"I can't be drunk and teach you how to vigilante."

"You're okay with me being Robin?" Hesitant blue eyes peered up at him. Danny's heart melted, the traitorous little shit.

"Not really. But I can't stop you, so I might as well make sure you live past 25." He jabbed Jason's forehead. "And I'll be reaming out Batman the next time he swings by, now that I'm not pissed as hell. I'll make sure it hurts."

"He's not that bad."

Danny sent him an unimpressed look and Jason mimed zipping his mouth closed, twisiting an imaginary key and throwing it over his shoulder. The little shit thinks he's got jokes. (He does, but Danny's supposed to be mad with him right now, so he'll never admit he thinks Jason's funny.)

They walked out of the apartment complex and turned to the right, right into the alley.

Did his heart give a little twinge every time Jason tossed the booze? Yes. But the hopeful thrill in his little brother's countenance made up for every single penny he spent.

"So... How long am I grounded for?"

At the reminder, Danny's hands clamped around one of the last bottles a little harsher than necessary.

"You... are grounded for- till college." He gritted out, tossing the bottle.

Jason's horrified "For- till college?!" rang nicely against the shattering of Danny's booze. Danny grinned and gave Jason a noogie.

"For till college," He affirmed, joking tone making Jason grumble, struggling to get out of the hold. "Or, for like, a week."

---

"Hey, Danny?"

Danny grunted, rousing slightly from his nap on the couch. They had been watching a show in the middle of Jason's grounding when he had drifted off.

"Did I ever tell you I had a brother?"

Danny's eyes flew open. "... No. Do you want to?"

Danny swiveled his head to look at Jason, who sat with his back against the couch and his head set aglow by the light of the TV. He looked... sad. Lonely.

"His name was Danny too."

Danny's heart shot right up to his throat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. He died." Danny couldn't help the thought that passed him. Me too, buddy, me too. "I thought you were him. 'S why I talked ta ya, even if y're drinkin'."

Danny tilted his head back, silently closing his eyes in grief. It was fate, that wily Ancient.

"Is that... bad?"

"Nah. You're as good a brother as he was."

"Thank you for telling me, Jason."

"Whatever."

Danny laid back down, the thread of a memory all but confirming his theory.

"Come on, Danny-o, Jazz was being a good sister!"

Five year old Danny pulled the blanket up to his chin, pouting. His mother laughed.

"That's right, sweetie. She was trying to make sure you didn't get sick."

"I don't want Jazz! I want- I want a brother instead!"

His parents exchanged amused looks. "Well, Danny-o, you almost had a brother."

"Really?" Danny turned around, curious.

"Really. If Jazz was a boy, we would have named him Jason!" His dad laughed, ruffling his hair.

Danny wrinkled his nose. "Ew. I like Jazz better... oh."

[scirelistener]

LONG TIME NO SEE

sanji x gn! reader

synopsis : a familiar face emerges in an unfamiliar town. someone calls his name and sanji feels the world go blank with only one to focus on.

things to note! : has not been beta read probably!, kind of ooc! sanji (??), reader is older than sanji but not by a lot, reader was a helper/baker at the kingdom but i think and hope it’s ambiguous to be whatever role you wish to choose! also there’s a disgusting amount of ‘-sama’ used so i apologize in advance

“Great job, Sanji-sama!”

The little prince winced at the ominous ooze radiating from the chiffon cake you held so carefully, but when he looked up, all he could see was the radiance beaming from your grin.

“R-Really?” Sanji wriggled his fingers, hope rapidly blooming inside of him as you nodded.

The boy watched with anticipation when you reached for a nearby fork and took a bite. Once he saw you hum in delight, Sanji let the smile overtake his face.

“I used a different method to make the cream this time, just like you told me!”

“Well, you did fantastic! Oh, but who am I kidding.” You let out a theatric sigh, placing down the fork and clasping your hands together against your chest. “Our Sanji-sama is good at anything he puts his mind into!”

The fits of giggles your words sent the prince into made a smile break through your dramatic facade, the kitchen now filled with an air of joy and happiness.

“It’s only because you helped me!”

“My prince is so kind..” You fake sobbed, pressing your hands closer to your chest while looking away to ensure blindness doesn’t come for you with how brightly Sanji’s expression was.

The prince giggled once more before leaning closer with a look full of anticipation, his eye sparkling with the child-like curiosity that couldn’t be found from the other children of Vinsmoke.

“Can you teach me more?”

Easing down the facade, you broke into a wide smile. “Of course. I’ll teach you everything I know.”

“…” With how strongly Sanji was glaring into the cake, it was a surprise that the dessert hadn’t been struck with two holes.

There was something wrong with the way the newly finished chiffon cake held itself. A certain factor was frustrating the cook yet he could not, for the life of him, figure what exactly was it.

Perhaps the cake was underbaked and therefore too soft? No, it was unlikely considering the toothpick he poked into the cake came out with slight crumbs and not batter. It also wasn’t likely that the chiffon cake was over cooked either as it still had the signature soft yet bounce to it.

Perhaps it was because he rushed to the kitchen to make a cake as soon as he woke up from that dream.

With a heavy sigh, Sanji instinctively shoved his hand into his breast pocket to find his relief cancer stick when Luffy slammed the door open.

“Sanjiii~ Do you have any- Woah! Cake!” The captain, as he barged in, immediately had stars shining in his eyes and hurried towards the counter where the cake sat in prime condition. Luffy then, with expecting eyes, whipped his head to Sanji. “Can I eat it??”

As Sanji was about to say no out of habit, he took a second glance at the cake before thinking otherwise. “You know what, sure. Go right ahead.”

Without a thought, Luffy dug in and Sanji left the galley for a smoke break. His fingers itched to figure out what felt wrong about the cake, but there was no need to overthink over something that was probably already in Luffy’s mouth.

With his elbow leaning against the railings and a cigarette in his hands, Sanji stared out at the waves and let out a heavy sigh. If only you were here to help him.

———

The town they stumbled upon was strange. Not only were there pirates roaming around and talking to the locals without any malice from both parties, there were also a lot of bakeries and patisseries. A lot might’ve even been an underestimation.

“Hooooly cow!” Luffy guffawed as the Strawhats walked down the street, everyone but the captain sporting wary expressions.

Wherever they looked, it was a strange sight. All the other pirates seemed wary of each other, but never at the locals. In fact, as the Strawhats made their way into the main town, Zoro noticed a gang of pirates swarming around an old lady.

As the swordsmen squinted his eye and was about to tighten his grip on the hilt of his swords, he realized the pirates were helping the lady. Zoro blinked when one of them crouched down to carefully pick up all the groceries the lady must’ve dropped and handed in over with a smile all too kind for a pirate.

Zoro immediately let loose of the hilt before scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “… What is this town on?”

Meanwhile, Sanji was rather amazed and impressed as they passed by the many stores selling backed goods. None of the shops seemed to be selling cheaply made desserts and breads; no, even by a passing glance could one tell the amount of dedication and quality in the baked goods.

An impressed whistle came out of the cook’s mouth as the crew passed by a shop that displayed a rather wide variety of assortments. From breads that seemed to differ in thickness and texture to pastries that glistened with a shine that tempted passerby to come take a bite.

“They look quite good, don’t they?”

Sanji almost jumped out of his skin, but quickly regained himself as Robin approached with her usual all knowing smile.

“They surely do, but! No worries, Robin-chwaan! Whatever desserts we come across, I’ll make sure to make it ten times better once we get back to our ship~!” Sanji swooned as he always did, heart replacing his eyes. To his words, Robin’s only reply was a polite chuckle.

Sanji was just about to speak up when someone called him from behind with a voice all too familiar. A voice he knew all too well.

A voice that he heard only in the cold kitchen of his old home, the only thing that managed to bring warmth into such an environment.

“Sanji-sama..? Is that you?”

The crew all halted their steps, looking back to their cook whose face had no other expression other than shock.

Sanji slowly turned his head around, a silent prayer in his head that begged for this not to be a cruel joke.

As he turned to face the owner of the voice, Sanji’s heart stopped beating. The world came to an abrupt stop. Time stopped ticking and the only thing he could focus on was..

You.

You stared at him with a startled expression that was probably plastered all over his own face.

You looked different from how he remembered you in his faded memories at the shitty kingdom. No longer were you the teen that was taller but never loomed over him. No longer were you the teen that helped raise little Sanji up when he couldn’t reach the baking soda in the cabinet.

Your eyes held a different kind of maturity from the one back when you both were young, but still held that same shine that Sanji liked seeing whenever you baked. Your cheeks were slightly shined by a thin layer of sweat that made you glisten in the attention of the sun, but there was no hiding the smudge of flour near your nose. (His heart ached, you always had flour somewhere on your face whenever he stumbled into the kitchen.)

Sanji wanted to comment on the irony of how you were still wearing the worn out apron from before even after all this time yet the words died down in his throat before it could even reach the tip of his tongue. How could he when you looked so.. beautiful.

He whispered your name into the air, his words almost dissipating in the crowd that felt like it was getting busier with every passing second, but it caught your ear. He could tell. Sanji could tell by the way your eyes were glistening with newly forming tears and how your arms tightened around the bag of groceries.

“Is it really you..?” It was Sanji’s turn to ask as he dared to take a step closer. He could feel the crew’s confused stares glaring into his back, but he cared not one bit. You were in front of him. “A-Are you really.. here?”

You wetly chuckled, placing down the grocery bag with the same carefulness he remember you used with everything he made back then. You then opened your arms and tilted your head with a smile, a silent invitation.

Without hesitation, Sanji sprinted.

He ran until he could feel you and wasted no time in diving into your embrace. Sanji wrapped his arms around you like you were going to slip away any time soon. The lingering smell of sweetness, flour and freshly baked bread hit his nostrils, and Sanji fought the urge to sob on the spot.

When he felt your arms gently wrap around him in return, Sanji decided to give up fighting and let a stray tear escape from his eye.

“It’s you.. It’s really you.” Sanji heard you mumble and pulled away to feel his heartstrings get pulled at the sight of you with tear eyes, a warm smile tilting up the corners of your lips. “You’ve grown, Sanji-sama.”

“Don’t.” Before he could think, the words stumbled out of his mouth. You blinked away the tears in replacement for confusion, but the confusion went away as Sanji spoke, “I’m not- I’m not a prince anymore.”

Sanji watched the way your smile reappeared, this time with more fondness. Your eyes shined knowingly and he safely presumed you knew what he was implying.

“Well, at least that means I get to do this without any problem.” You spoke up with a tone that cleared the air of any sad nostalgia, one beaming with an eerie mischief.

“What do you- Hey!” Before he knew it, Sanji’s hair was getting tousled and ruffled as if he was a dog. Despite his protests, you kept on going with both hands. Your laughter boomed through any complaints coming from Sanji and the cook felt more and more pliant as the sweet melodious sound of your laugh rang in his ears.

Your eyes creased like crescent moons as you playfully messed up the cook’s hair. “I must say, you’ve grown into a fine young man! I still remember how little you were, Sanji-sa-” The ruffling and your words halted, making Sanji look up. You coughed into your hand before correcting, “Sanji.”

The way you said his name like it was a delicacy made his heart twist and turn. Without the honorifics, somehow his own name sounded even better than usual. Almost like a song meant only for him.

“I missed you.” Sanji let the words slip out, not even bothering to care about the crew’s reaction. He really did miss you. A part of him almost forgot you in the process of forgetting about that wretched place yet in his mind, it was always you and his mother that managed to shine through the bad events that happened at the kingdom.

Sanji grabbed your hand and gently pressed it against his cheek, closing his eyes when he felt your warmth radiating through the contact and letting out a shaky sigh. “I missed you.” He repeated.

With his eyes closed, the cook could not see how your eyes visibly softened. Instead, what he felt was your forehead pressed against his as well as your other hand cupping the other side of his face. Your thumb caressed the skin under his eye, treating him like he was a delicate piece of art.

“I missed you too, Sanji.”

Out of the captain’s request, you somehow made your way to the ship that loomed over you with an impressive height. Sanji’s friend was his friend, Luffy declared and immediately invited you over to which you agreed to despite Sanji’s reluctance in letting you deal with the hurricane that is the crew.

Yet you seemed to be dealing with them just fine. Conversing with the crew like you’d known them for years, laughing at Brook’s terrible jokes.

It felt like you were home.

Sanji tightened his grip on the mug, suddenly all too conscious of how your shoulders pressed against his. He was too busy overthinking about how the scent of baked goods weirdly matched well with the ship that he hadn’t realized Luffy had started running his mouth. Only when the captain mentioned the word ‘cook’ did he snap his head back into the conversation just in time.

“A cook? That’s amazing, Sanji!” You beamed at the blonde who flustered over the attention and looked away with a hasty grin along side a blush that overtook his features.

Luffy let out a hearty laugh, one that dared to echo out of the ship and to the town’s ears. “Sanji always makes the best food! Everything he makes taste incredible!”

“Oi, Luffy!” Sanji was no stranger to compliments and he wasn’t one to deny any either yet it felt weirdly embarrassing when you were with him.

Despite Sanji’s protests, you only seemed more impressed and let out a laugh that matched Luffy’s exuberance. “Well, I’m not that surprised!”

You looked over to Sanji and smiled so proudly it made his heart ache. “Sanji’s great at anything he puts his heart into.”

While the crew laughed and tried to coax you into telling more tales of you and little Sanji, the cook couldn’t stop the concerningly fast rate of his heartbeat. You’d said that to him before, but the way your words was soft yet stern with conviction and pride made something in his brain go haywire.

As you were about to reach for your glass, your hand was pulled and held by fingers that were larger and wider than yours.

When you glanced at Sanji, he was having an argument with the swordsman who had a cocky smirk on his face. Meanwhile Sanji, on the other hand, looked as red as a strawberry. Even as he snarled at Zoro, the tips of his ears burned bright red.

You let out a quiet chuckle before gently squeezing back, finding warmth in the way Sanji’s hand held yours.

It’s nice to see you again.

a/n : little sanji is so cute, i want to hug him and let him cook anything he wants. he’s so cute that i want to drop kick vinsmoke judge over a flight of stairs and proceed to pluck out every single strand of that fucker’s hair. hate judge. how dare he treat my child like that. (i have not reached the whole cake island arc yet.)

[f4ggydog]

lottie x reader: but baby i’m a fool for you🔞

warnings: nsfw so minors don’t interact and read, lottie’s got a cock, penis in vagina sex, breeding, cum, reader has a pussy

the way things have been going for lottie in this show have made me SO SAD FOR HER THIS SEASON so I felt like writing something less tragic/dark

Lottie hoped that all of the Yellowjackets viewed her as their friend. They were one of her only pieces of escapism when thins at home got tense. It seemed like Lottie was destined to have a rocky relationship with her father. No matter how many times she tried to manage her illness, nothing was good enough for him. He thought of his daughter as nothing more than just some ‘sicko.’

Lottie’s mother was slightly more helpful, but subservient to her husband. So if they got into an argument over Lottie’s illness, Lottie’s mom would always back down first. She’d never get the last word. Always a wife, but never anything more to that man. And a good wife never questioned her husband’s claims, even when she wanted him to concede.

Out of all her teammates, Lottie was most happy to have met you. You wear her absolute favorite on the team, though she was originally shy about admitting it. Before you two became a couple, Lottie made sure to keep her fascination with you under wraps at all times. But someday, Lottie knew that you were going to tear the wrapping off and open that present she’s been concealing.

Lottie’s stares lingered too long inside of the locker room. Between eyeing your hips or glancing at your…behind, her eyes always seemed to be locked on you. Frankly, she was amazed that you hadn’t caught her by then. But all it took was one visit to her table during lunchtime to rock her world.

And today, Lottie sits on the bed inside of her room. She’s still shaken up over Nat and Taissa going back and forth. Yeah, she’s not a fan of Allie’s soccer skills. That doesn’t mean they have to fucking injure her to get their point across. Whatever happened to the concept of humanity?

You notice Lottie’s frown. At first, you’re hesitant to sit by her. She gave you permission to visit your penthouse, but you were wondering if it would be better to reschedule a date for another day. Plus, you can’t tell if Lottie would prefer to be alone or if she yearns for some company.

Lottie locks eyes with you and her eyes soften. Her frown slowly transforms into a smile. She doesn’t beckon you over with her hands, but her face looks enough like an invitation. After some consideration, you hurry over to her from the doorway and hope you guessed her facial expressions to a T.

“Are they getting to you, Lot?” You question, rubbing her shoulder. You absolutely loathed seeing Lottie in any distress. If she was upset about something, it was guaranteed to put your mood in the dumps as well. You mind as well start crying right about now.

“It’s not just them.” Lottie tosses her cigarette pack onto the dresser. “It’s my parents too, my dad. Everything just feels like it’s gone to shit. And yet here I am, expected to lend a shoulder to Allie so she can cry about her homecoming dance.”

“It’s not fair baby,” you coo, leaning on her side. “I know it isn’t fair. But, you know I’m here for you, right? We barely talked at all today. I missed you. And you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Lottie reaches for her pack of cigarettes, but you lightly pull her hand away.

“Don’t do it Lot,” you whine. “What have I told you about smoking? That’s not good for you.”

“I know,” Lottie groans. “But I’m stressed. I don’t know what else to do. I’m used to resorting to those. Fuck, everything is just…bad right now. Everything sucks.”

“Well, let me cheer you up then.” You stand up from where you were sitting and reposition yourself. That way, you’re on Lottie’s lap and can get extra intimate with her.

“Woah,” Lottie chuckles. “Bit of a change of pace?”

“Maybe a kiss would help. It’s not therapy, but…”

“Let’s get something straight,” Lottie replies. “Your kisses are effective therapy. Without a doubt.”

“You’re so sweet,” you giggle into Lottie’s neck like a schoolgirl with a massive, pathetic crush. It’s like you two were still in elementary school, exchanging secret admirer notes until one of you could properly confess your love. You hoped the honeymoon phase of this relationship would never end.

You plant a couple of kisses on Lottie’s neck. They are a lovely start, but Lottie craves more. She holds you firmly in place by your waist, smushing her lips against yours. You moan at the sudden collision, adjusting yourself so that you’re more comfortable as your lips crash against each other like waves surrounding the ocean.

Lottie’s hands travel across your body. They release themselves from your waist and find your stomach. She gently pulls your shirt up, taking extra precautions to not rip or destroy the fragile fabric. She caresses your tummy, groaning in delight just at the feeling of your skin against hers.

You feel yourself getting hotter. You lightly grind your body in Lottie’s lap, deepening the kiss and pushing your tongue further into her mouth. Soon, as you two are a bundle of passion, you feel something poking against you from the bottom. The best part is…you know exactly what it is.

“You turn me on so fucking much,” Lottie groans in your ear. “Fuck.”

“Getting hard for me, baby?” You coo, giggling as Lottie’s bulge nudges against you. “Want me to pull your skirt down?”

“Fuck yes,” Lottie gives you permission. “You know this is the best stress relief I could possibly get. Treat me right, babe.”

You’re eager to please, just like a good little partner. You hop off of Lottie’s lap and drop to your knees. First, her pink skirt comes down with a quick pull. You salivate over the hard on that’s visible through Lottie’s panties. You couldn’t wait to get your mouth wrapped around her. If anything could make her forget about her troubles, it had to be this.

Lottie’s polka dot panties are peeled off next. They fall to her feet and Lottie’s cock tenderly slaps against your face. She’s already twitching and her tip’s already red. Lottie always felt massive in the palm of your hand, but that didn’t stop you from taking her.

You run your hands up and down Lottie’s veins. She was circumcised and at least 8 inches in length. Additionally, she had the thickness of a brick. It was a mammoth to grasp in your hands. However, that didn’t want to make you back down any less.

“Just like that baby,” Lottie urges, your hands softly pumping her cock, like you were trying to squeeze the pleasure out of her. “Fuck, your hands feel so good. Babyyyy.”

“I’ve only started Lot,” you giggle. “You can’t be that turned on already.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” Lottie whines.

You lean your head forward to press a kiss to the head of Lottie’s dick. She twitches with the wet sensation and pushes her cock closer to your mouth. Without another word, Lottie guides your head over so you can swallow the first couple of inches of flesh.

Lottie was never easy to take in your mouth. It’s not the first time she’s received a blowjob from you, but there was always choking and gagging in between. She always had to control herself and not go too rough with the face fucking or else you might lose consciousness.

Lottie holds your head in place and slowly starts to pump more inches down your throat. Her head tilts back and she bites her lip, teasing her balls at the same time. The eye contact you keep throughout your deepthroating only entices Lottie further and she finds her eyes fluttering at your every movement.

“You’re so good,” Lottie praises. “Fuck, take my dick baby. You look so good with my cock in your mouth. Fuckkkk.”

You slowly pull your head back, briefly allowing air to enter your body. Then, you go right back to pleasing Lottie, your throat stretching to accommodate more of her heavy cock.

“Fuck baby,” Lottie pants, working her cock deeper into your mouth. “Fuck, so good. You always make me feel so good. Fuck, you’re such a good little cock whore.”

Your chuckle gets muffled. You pull your head back again and look up at Lottie with starry eyes. “Very descriptive words, Lot.”

“Sorry,” Lottie says sheepishly. “D-Did that make you uncomfortable? I don’t have to use that word again.”

“No.” You shake your head. “N-No, I like it. I don’t mind one bit.”

“Okay good.” Lottie nods. “Fuck, you look so gorgeous. Even better than usually do.”

“Maybe it’s cause I’m on my knees.”

Lottie grabs you and pulls you up so you're standing up. She slaps her cock against her palm, signaling for you to claim your seat again.

“Wait.” You blink. “H-Hold on, sorry. I haven’t...”

Lottie listens.

“I mean, I know I’ve sucked you off, Lot. But, I can’t remember the last time we fucked. What I do remember is that we were both really drunk-“

“And I’m sorry,” Lottie interrupts. “I’m sorry. I regret that we lost it in such a stupid way. I wish I could’ve given you better. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry-“

“Lottie, it’s okay. It was our moment. It was our time. And it was worth it. It just means that…it might take me a while to get used to you inside of me again. Might feel different.”

“Well, there’s no rush. At least not on my end. So you’re free to take your time. I just…fuck, I need to be inside of you.”

You wiggle your ass teasingly.

“How bad, Lot?”

“So bad, baby. Fuck, I need to feel that warmth. I need my dick inside of you. Fuck, come sit down baby.”

“So much for no rushing,” you cackle, backing up so you’re in closer proximity to Lottie.

“S-Sorry, baby. Don’t mean to rush. I just know you’re gonna feel so good. Fuck.”

“Try not to cum the second I’m inside you.”

You slowly lower yourself onto Lottie’s cock. She rubs the head of her penis against your slit. Then, you sink down until most of Lottie is buried in your hot cunt.

Lottie lets out a loud moan, nearly orgasming just at the sensation of your warm insides. She whimpers, securing you tightly in her lap and thrusting upwards. The outline of her cock is visible on your stomach and you wonder if Lottie’s tip will end up kissing your cervix.

“Go slow Lot,” you moan into her neck. “Fuck, you’re so big baby. Jesus Christ.”

“Does it hurt?” Lottie asks, still rutting into you like a puppy in an insane amount of heat.

“N-No it doesn’t,” you reassure her. “But fuck, you’re going so fast. You’re gonna make yourself cum too quick.”

“Can’t stop fucking you,” Lottie murmurs, her hips bouncing as her cock plunges deep into your tightening pussy. “You feel so fucking good. Fuck, I need this so bad. I needed your pussy so, so bad.”

“Lot!” You can barely time yourself with her thrusts, her cock ramming into you. It’s impossible for you to keep up and you find yourself stopping in some moments and just letting Lottie do all the work. Not that Lottie minds working her ass off. She’s the one with her brain switched off right now. All she can think about is breeding you until your pussy can’t handle any more cum.

“Don’t stop Lot,” you chant. “Fuck, please don’t stop. Fuck, baby!”

“You’re squeezing me so tight,” Lottie purrs, quickly pulling you in for a smooch. “Maybe you’re the one who’ll cum first, huh? Maybe you’re the one getting drunk with lust right now.”

To further support her point, you can’t get a single word out that isn’t a moan or groan of some sort. Lottie grins with satisfaction.

“Yeah, that’s right. No cock could ever feel as good as mine, right? Nobody could ever fill you like I could?”

“Nobody,” you repeat. “Nobody, Lottie. Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Holy shit. I-I’m so…”

Lottie pumps into you faster.

“Tell me you adore my cock. Tell me how good it feels when my big cock hits that perfect spot. Tell me. Tell me now, baby.”

“It feels amazing, Lot!” You cry out. “Fuck, nobody feels as good as you! No one’s as big as you, shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Your bodies are slicked together with sweat. Lottie’s heart races and your thighs quiver. You’re both in an unimaginable state of bliss. Neither of you would be disappointed if you were unable to ever exit this moment.

“So close Lottie,” you sob into her ear. “So close. So fucking close.”

“Me too,” Lottie pants. “Should I pull-“

“No, no!” You almost scream out with urgency. “Cum inside. Please cum inside. I need you inside of me.”

“You’re on birth-“

“Yes, just fuck a baby into me, Lottie! Please, fuck your cum into me. I need it so bad. Fuck.”

Your encouragement sends Lottie over the edge. A long hiss leaves her mouth as cum spurts into your greedy hole. Rope after rope of hot fluid pumps into your pussy, filling it with nothing but white. Lottie’s orgasm triggers your own and your fluids mix with hers as you cum right on her cock.

The two of you are a sticky, gooey mess. Your pussy’s spent but Lottie can’t stop fucking you. She doesn’t want to guarantee a single drop goes missing. Lottie would rather see the gates of hell than waste any of her precious cum.

Once she’s convinced she’s throughly bred you, Lottie flips you and tosses you onto the bed, negligent of the cum that might leak out. Your pussy clenches around nothing, already missing the feeling of Lottie’s cock.

“Don’t you worry.” Lottie smirks, pinning you down. “That was only round one.”

[losers-clvb]

p*rnstar // soldier boy

summary: on camera, ben fucks you like he hates you, because he does.

content: misogyny, language, revenge porn, secret recording, hate sex, threats of violence and killing, smut (manhandling, degradation, hair pulling, oral [f and m receiving], mouth fucking, slapping, dirty talk, use of 'daddy', kinda pain kink, biting, marking, fingering, kinda breeding kink, choking, dumbification, mocking), let me know if i missed any

word count: 5.1k

note: please god let me into heaven.

masterlist

----

“Together, as a united front, we can work toward an equal future. Again, a special thanks to Vought and Mr. Soldier Boy-,”

“Ben is alright, sweetheart.”

Of course the son of a bitch couldn’t keep his mouth shut through the end of your speech. And that little pet name? How fucking demeaning was that when you had reminded him many, many times to not call you that. You tried to hide the annoyance you immediately felt ping through you, thankful for the intense media training you had gone through.

“Thank you to Vought and Ben,” you let the name slip out dripping with venom disguised as honey, “for contributing their time and money to this cause.” You smiled out at the crowd of women and children alike.

“Oh, it’s no bother. I love the ladies!” Ben leaned into the podium, hand sliding against your hip to keep you from stumbling. You wouldn’t have stumbled if it weren’t for him pushing you over, but you couldn’t do much about that in the moment. You hid the elbow jab you gave him. The blow was met with a dazzling smile from Ben.

You hated the way the crowd laughed and cheered at him. Could they not remember how just a month ago you were seething at the misogynistic nature of the man? He hadn’t changed that quickly, despite the story Vought was trying to spin. They had all but threatened you to allow Soldier Boy to co-host your rally. Though, your final breaking point had been the very generous donation to your charity for domestic violence survivors.

You had been under the impression that Stan Edgar had Soldier Boy on a tight leash. The truth, to your displeasure, was the complete opposite. Ben practically ran the place, walking Edgar like a dog any chance he could. You were quick to fight back with him, but the murderous look he would give you back made you shut up before anything truly bossy came out.

“I hope to see you all again! Long live the American spirit!” You called out before yanking your body from Ben’s hold. You managed to keep your storming reined in until you were back into the lobby of the hotel you were staying in. You huffed out a pissed off breath and stepped into the elevator. Forcefully pushing the button for your floor, you caught a glimpse of Ben sauntering his way toward you.

“Oh, hell no.” You mumbled, clicking the “close door” button so many times you were sure it would break. The doors were so close, barely an inch of space between them, when he stuck his hand to stop them.

“No.” You said, glaring at him. He only smirked back at you and let the doors close with him inside.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?” Ben asked. You couldn’t help the small gasp that fell out.

“You’re a fucking dick.” You seethed, staring at the screen with the floor numbers. The elevator was moving far too slowly. You wished you had a floor closer to ground level, but that was frowned upon by security.

“Woah there, sweetheart!” Ben exclaimed, turning to you. “Your loyal bunch of sheep know you speak like that?”

“Shut up.” You were tempted to hit a button for a closer floor and climb the stairs the rest of the way.

“I’d bet all you need to get that attitude out is a good fucking.”

You whipped your head to him, looking at him like he was crazy. He had a challenging look in his eye, like he was waiting for you to take the bait. No. No way were you going to lower your standards just because it had been approximately ten months since your last orgasm.

“Yeah,” he chuckled out, eyes raking up and down your body. “You just need a nice, big cock in that mouth to keep it quiet.”

“Well, what a shame there isn’t any around.” You shot back. It was a weak argument. You had heard… rumors about his many hookups. He was well endowed and he knew it.

“Doll, if you wanted a peek you could’ve just asked. No need to come for a man’s dick size.” He locked his gaze onto the swell of your breasts. “I bet you’d look so fuckin’ pretty with cum painting that face.”

“You’re a damn pig.” You gritted out, your eyes lighting up with hate when you looked at him. His face shifted from cocky to full of pure rage. He was sick of your shit. He would have never let any other woman talk to him like that, but it was fun to mess with you. Until now, when he just wanted you to shut the fuck up. He grabbed your face in his hand, gripping it just enough to make you whimper.

“You talk to me like that again, I’ll fuckin’ kill you.” He spat out at you. You were watching him with wide eyes and, fuck, that fear he saw in them got him rock hard. He sniffed, the coke from earlier messing with the nerves in his nose. With that sniff came the overwhelming scent of arousal. He knew it wasn’t from him -- he had gotten used to his own scents.

“You fuckin’ whore, you like this.” He scoffed out, adjusting his grip on you. He wasn’t lying. Despite the strong, feminist persona you put on for your voters, you loved to be dominated. You wanted to be thrown around and marked up and degraded like an animal. You hadn’t ever admitted it aloud. The closest you had gotten to fulfilling your sexual desires was a small spank during a drunk hookup in college. You had managed to get yourself off during the comparatively vanilla sex, but you knew there had to be something better.

Ben was ready to give you that something better.

He smashed his lips into yours, the fingers that had once been digging into your cheeks loosening. You kissed back without really knowing why. You hated him. Maybe that’s why you were so into it.

Ben pushed you into the wall without breaking the kiss. He groped onto your breast, playing with the plush like it was his own personal stress ball. You moaned into his mouth.

The doors opened with a ding. He pulled away from you, but you had no time to catch your breath before he was grabbing onto a fistful of your hair.

“C’mon, slut.” He growled, dragging you along with him. You whined out. Your lipstick was smudged and the hair Ben didn’t have in his hand was tangled within itself. You looked a mess. Thankfully, the hall was empty.

Ben quickly unlocked and opened his hotel room before shoving you in front of him. You stumbled in, almost falling to the floor while he made sure to lock the door behind him. No one was getting in tonight.

“Get on your fuckin’ knees.”

The rush of finally getting what you needed distorted your thinking and you followed his orders. You fell to your knees, bracing yourself with your hands on your thighs. You remembered being in a similar position last Sunday at church. This was the opposite of holy, but Ben was going to have you screaming his name out like a prayer by the end of it.

You followed his movements as he walked further into the room, then past you. You missed the spark of an idea fly to him when his eyes landed on his smartphone.

“Eyes on the fuckin’ ground, sweetheart.” He demanded, waiting until you looked away to swipe up the device. He clicked around until, finally, he had the thing recording. He propped it up, right where he knew it would scan the entire room.

Satisfied with where this was going to get him, he turned on his heel, peeling off the top half of his supe suit. You dared to look up when you heard his movements and your eyes latched onto his abs.

“Did I tell you to look up?” He growled and grabbed your hair again, shoving your head to the floor. You whimpered and stayed like that, forehead kissing the floor, still on your knees. You heard a shuffling, then something soft being thrown. A sharp pang of your hair being pulled made you moan as Ben pulled you back up. You were panting out breaths when you came face to tip with his cock. It was hard and leaking precum already.

“Open that bratty mouth.”

You dropped your jaw and stuck out your tongue. Ben smirked at your willingness to get a cock in your mouth and shoved it right in. You gagged when his tip hit your throat. There was no warming up, no getting used to the length before it was being pounded into your mouth. You shut your eyes to keep you from crying at the sensation.

“Hey!” He snapped, slapping your face to get you to open your eyes. You didn’t need a mirror to know the skin was turning red. “You look at me when I’m in you.”

You immediately tried to speak, but choked around his dick.

“What was that?” Ben taunted, pulling your head back enough to let you try to speak before slamming back into your throat. He continued a few times before allowing you some air. You gasped in a breath.

“Yes daddy.” You choked out, throat raw from the constant abuse.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Ben used his thumb to collect the few tears that had fallen, then shoved the digit into your mouth. You sucked up the salty taste, taking his thumb in to the knuckle. “I’m your fuckin’ daddy.”

He pulled his thumb out and replaced it with his dick, continuing his violent thrusts. You cried out in pleasure and let him take what he wanted. Drool spilled out of your mouth, soaking your blouse. You kept your eyes on his the entire time.

He watched you with a wicked smile on his face. Pure hate and lust dripped in his eyes, making you want to look away. You didn’t dare move your eyes, even when he held your head down for a longer amount of time, his length slipping down your throat. You gagged and brought your hands up to his thighs to ground yourself. Your manicured nails dug into his leg. Thanks to his durability, you didn’t break skin.

“Givin’ your mouth a proper job.” Ben groaned when your tongue ran across a vein. You hummed in response, agreeing with him in your submissive state. He yanked your head back again, listened to you huff for air, then shoved you right back into it. He pushed you down hard and held you, running his tongue across his teeth when he felt you fighting back. You strained against him, willing your eyes to stay on his.

When he spilled into your throat, you were thankful. He had gotten what he wanted and you could look back on this moment later with your hand between your legs. He shifted your head back, bending down to get closer to you.

“Open.”

You did as he asked, showing him that, yes, you had in fact swallowed all of his cum. He smiled proudly.

“Good slut.” He patted your cheek. It had some bite behind it, not as much as the earlier slap, but just enough to make a sharp breath fall out of you. You waited for him to tell you to get out, to shove you out into the hall with spit covering your chin.

He wasn’t finished with you yet.

“Get the fuck up.” He growled and wrapped a hand around your throat, dragging you to your feet. All pride was gone from his eyes. He was angry again and ready to show you just how much power he had over you.

You were standing on shaky legs, half from the way he had pulled you up and half from how wet it was making you. You looked up at him, the height difference giving him more power. He flicked his eyes down to your soaked chest. The light fabric of your blouse had gone sheer.

Faster than you could process, he pulled it apart, buttons flying in every direction. He forced it off of your arms. He brought himself down to your level, arms wrapping around your waist to keep you from wiggling away. You felt a flash of pain that quickly melted into pleasure. He had bitten down on your shoulder. There wasn’t any blood, but you were sure the indent of his teeth would linger.

“I can tear you apart with my teeth.” He grumbled against your skin, almost threatening to do it. You were ready to speak, but he bit down again, this time on one of your breasts, pulling the cup of your bra down. Your hands shot to his biceps and he chuckled darkly. “Your blood would taste so damn sweet.”

You moaned out with another bite. It was almost directly on top of the last, only tilted slightly to the side. This was unlike anything you had felt before. The sting of the bite woke you up but the pleasure directly after made you melt. You were already grieving the end of this, not because you would miss Ben, but because no other person would ever know about your list of kinks. It was too risky to just give out.

Ben sank down your body until he was on his knees. Somehow, it didn’t give you any sense of power over him. His face was level with your stomach, level with the vital organs that lay under the skin. If he really wanted to, he could have ripped through the skin and killed you right there.

“I’ll have to settle for this pussy.” He pulled your pants down on one side, exposing your hip before he bit it. You could see the damage now. Sure enough, the skin indented in a perfect cast of his teeth, glowing an angry red. You nearly lost it at the sight, a moan escaping when your legs collapsed under you.

“Fuckin’ pain whore.” He let you fold over his shoulder while he shimmied your bottoms off, pulling your underwear along the way. He stood with you still draped over him, your heels falling from your feet with a thump. You gripped onto his ribcage out of fear of him dropping you. You liked the biting, but a concussion may be too much.

He dropped you on the bed like you were a bag of flour. You tried to catch yourself with your hands, but the force still knocked your head to the sheets. His fingers trailed up your leg, but instead of landing on your core, they continued up. You whined when he grazed against a nipple, the sensitive bud already hard. He brushed two fingers along your jawline and you held your breath. This was soft, nothing like the animal who was marking you just a few minutes ago.

Smack

Your head turned to the side with the blow. You cried out, but the same fingers that had caressed you held a tight grip on your chin, making you shut up. Ben yanked your head back to facing him.

The sneer on his face when he pushed into your mouth made a noise whistle out from your throat. His fingers dug deeper, covering themselves in your saliva. You gagged when they hit your gag reflex, though you should have been used to something in your mouth by that point.

He quickly pulled his fingers from your mouth and moved them between your legs. He spread your spit into your folds, circling your clit with his middle finger. It wasn’t really needed. You were already soaked, practically dripping, from everything that had happened beforehand. You shifted your hips in hopes of getting more friction on you, but the movement was met with a slap on your clit. You squeaked out, making him snort a laugh.

“You really are a filthy fuckin’ whore, you know that?” He smacked down again, pulling a louder noise from you. “I’ve never seen a pussy get this fuckin’ turned on with a few smacks.”

You didn’t have the brainpower to tell him it was more than a few smacks that had gotten you to this point. You clenched your hands into fists with another hit, trying your hardest to not move. You just wanted him to touch you. God, maybe he was right; you really did need a good fucking.

“Mmm, just like that.” He hummed when he stuck two fingers into you, causing you to clench down with his words. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling them in just the right way to get you mewling.

“Doesn’t feel this good with your own, does it? No,” he chuckled again, “you needed a real man to get in here and wreck this pussy. Not one of those sniveling, ‘feminist’ pussies your generation calls men.”

He dropped his head to wrap his lips around your clit, suckling on it. You couldn’t bother to respond to him, head thrown back in ecstasy. You were already growing close to your release, far faster than you knew possible for yourself. He laughed into you, causing another moan to fall out.

“Who fuckin’ owns this pussy?” He asked, thumb taking his lips place on your clit. You huffed out, trying to find a way to answer, but his ministrations on you clouded your mind. When you didn’t spit out a reply, he smacked your clit again.

“Fuckin’ answer.”

You sucked in a breath, swallowing down another moan.

“B-Ben.” You stuttered out.

Smack

“Try again.”

“S-,” he curled his fingers up into your g-spot, cutting you off. You groaned.

Smack

“Spit it out.”

“Soldier Boy.” You rushed out. You hadn’t forgotten about calling him ‘daddy’ before, but you had forgotten how much he had liked it. You thought this would be the right answer, his supe name to give him the sensation of real power everywhere.

Smack

“Dumb fuckin’ whore. Get it right or you’re not comin’ tonight.” He dropped back down to swirl his tongue around your clit. You pushed your fists into the mattress underneath you, arching your back.

“Daddy…?” You finally bit out, but it came as more of a question. You waited for the next hit, but what you got instead was so much better. He picked up the pace of his fingers, licking through your folds and over your clit.

“Good girl.” He muttered into your pussy. You felt yourself push over the edge, falling into your release. He smiled against you when he felt it.

“Daddy owns this pussy.” He proclaimed while pulling himself up. You were panting on the bed, body relaxed and mouth slightly open. He pushed the fingers he had used into your mouth, making you taste yourself. Your eyes fluttered shut while you took them in and his other hand found its way to cradle the back of your head.

“She tastes good, yeah? Like fuckin’ honey.”

You moaned in response. A string of spit connected his fingers and your lips when he took them back, eventually breaking and falling to rest on your chin. You were feeling euphoric now. You had gotten the best fingering of your life, though you weren’t going to ever tell him that. With the smirk on his face, he already knew it.

You shifted yourself onto your hands, shuffling your way off the bed. You were going to have to make the walk of shame to your room. Thankfully, it was just down the hall. You hoped there wouldn’t be much security, then remembered if there were, they had heard everything. You looked around the floor for anything to cover yourself.

Ben walked up behind you and you nearly melted back into him when he kissed your neck. His hand snaked around you to grab one of your breasts, thumb flicking across the nipple.

“Did I say we were fuckin’ done?” He growled into your ear before picking you up with just the one arm. You sucked in a breath before he shoved you face-first into the duvet, ass up. You turned your head to the side, facing the desk. You saw his phone, propped up suspiciously. You narrowed your eyes and tried to bring yourself up, but his hand pushed your head back down just as he entered you.

You cried out at the stretch. It felt so fucking good.

He didn’t pause to let you acclimate to him, instantly pounding into you. Your hands shot out to grip the sheets. You needed something, anything to keep you focused. Your brain was quickly shifting into shut down mode, the imaginary percentage ticking down with every thrust.

“You’re such a fuckin’ whore, you’d take every fuckin’ load right in here.” His fingers found your clit, rubbing it for a few moments before he gripped your hips with both hands. You moaned and squeezed around him.

“You’d let me knock you right up.” He chuckled. “Fill you with so much fuckin’ cum that you’d be drippin’ for days.”

You fought to keep your eyes open. If you closed them, if you took your eyes off of the cell phone practically winking at you, you would forget everything. Was he fucking filming this? If so, why?

Smack

He hit your ass, making you whine. His hand lingered, soothing the skin.

“Yeah, I know you fuckin’ like that.” He slid his hand from your ass to your back, putting pressure on the middle of your spine. Your upper body pressed into the mattress, bending your back in a way you didn’t know possible. Ben was practically on top of you now, pounding into you at a relentless pace. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second before you opened them back up.

“You wanna walk around like that? With my cum in ya? Shake hands with the president while I’m seeping out of you?”

You gasped out a breath when he dug his hips into yours. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore. Your fists released the sheets and relaxed out. Ben noticed your lack of strength and chuckled.

He wrapped an arm around your torso and pulled you up, holding your back against his chest. His thrusts didn’t slow the entire time, making you moan. His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing down just enough to still allow you some oxygen.

“Mmm,” he hummed, nipping at your neck, “who owns this pussy?” He asked again, whispering into your ear.

“Daddy.” You moaned, holding your eyes open halfway.

“Say it again.”

“Daddy,” you breathed out, eyelids drooping a bit more. Your eyes were slits now, but you still had them open. You still had some of your thoughts.

“Again.” He growled. He was fucking with you now. He knew you were close to being brainless, and he loved to hear it all.

“Da-,” you mumbled, but your eyes finally closed when his cock hit your g-spot.

“C’mon, baby, I know you can say it.” He taunted, slamming his hips up. He knew that you couldn’t, but God did he savor every sputter of noise from you. You were completely incoherent. You couldn’t think of anything but him driving into you.

“What, too dumb to talk?” He asked, voice full of faux sympathy. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, the only noise coming from you being your whimpers and heavy breaths.

“Mmm, so much better like this, sweetheart. Keepin’ that bratty mouth shut.”

He felt your body shiver with your incoming orgasm. He tightened his grip on your throat, grunting at his tightening balls. A noise, part scream, part moan, tore from your throat when you came, your body going numb after you came down from it. Ben smirked as he poured into you, fucking up into you a few more times to keep his cum inside you.

He let you fall to the bed, a hand still holding your hips up while he pulled out of you. He sniffed, that nerve acting up again, and walked to his phone with a victorious expression. He had gotten exactly what he needed to destroy you, but for an extra cherry on top, he snatched up his phone and brought it over to your wrecked body.

You were laying on your side, body completely limp. He directed the camera over you, scanning every inch of your body. It was all there; the bites, your messed-up makeup, fingerprint-shaped bruises on your hips. And finally, the real star of the show, your puffy core dripping his release out.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this.” He mumbled just enough for the video to catch as he wiped up the escaping cum with two fingers before shoving it back inside. He ended the recording, throwing the phone into a nearby armchair.

Ben settled into bed next to you, back leaning against the headboard while he puffed away at a joint. He wasn’t technically supposed to smoke in the hotel room, but who was going to stop him? Surely not you, who had curled up next to his thigh and fallen into sleep, your body spent. He smirked at the sight, bringing his hand to brush hair out of your face.

“Fuckin’ whore.” He bit out, face twitching into a sneer before he slid down to sleep beside you.

----

“So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

Ben’s voice rang out from the speakers. You swore out, looking down at the tiles of the floor.

“Turn it off.” You demanded, pacing the floor. Your finger was stationed between your lips, teeth biting away at the nail.

“That was all of it, ma’am.” Your PR agent spoke out, earning her a sorrowful look. You had sat through the whole thing slack-jawed, flinching a few times. You had remembered that night -- how could you forget? -- but you hadn’t know it would be forever memorialized on video. You definitely didn’t know that it would be leaked to every fucking media outlet who would take it.

The morning after, you had woken up bleary-eyed to an empty room. Your ripped clothing hadn’t even been left behind, courtesy of Ben, you assumed. You had made a quick call to the only person you could trust -- your best friend, Lindsay, who had come within the half-hour, despite being a good hour away.

You had vowed to keep everything that had happened secret, never to be discussed. Unfortunately, you had received a call just that next day, informing you that you had a brand-new tabloid headline written just for you:

Self-proclaimed ‘feminist’ congresswoman and her offensive kink?

Now you had to deal with a mix of your angry supporters and Soldier Boy’s incel fanboys sending you hate.

It was all a mix of emotions. Some thought you had lied about everything, all the equality you had fought for, and others -- the ones who had hated you before all of this -- degraded you for existing. You caught a few defending you, who applauded you for being able to get some good sex. A few claimed to wish they were you, though you don’t know if you would wish this situation on anyone.

You were freaking out. You paced the floor and felt the eyes of everyone in the room on you.

“Get that fucking asshole on the phone now.” You snarled. No one had to guess who you were speaking about. They knew you hated Soldier Boy, plus his smug face was still up on your computer screen.

“Ahh, movie star! Watched the film yet?” His voice rang out confident from the other side. You refrained from smashing the phone down.

“You fucking dick.” You seethed.

“Oh, I wouldn’t talk like that, sweetheart. We all know what happened last time you did.” He chuckled.

“Why?” You asked, and you knew he didn’t need any context for what you were asking. You weren’t his lover, you weren’t even his friend, but this, this was taking things to another level. You didn’t know he would play so dirty.

“I told you not to fuckin’ mess with me, bitch.” He growled into the phone before the line went dead. You waited a moment before placing your own phone down, fingers gripping the desk behind you. Of course his feelings were still hurt from your little speech about his harassment the month beforehand. You flexed your jaw before an idea popped into your head.

Your attention shot to your PR agent and she flinched, but a smile was breaking out across your face.

“Get Lindsay here, right now.”

----

“Baby, I love you so much!”

Ben’s voice cried out from your phone speakers. You were giggling away at the video, though you had already watched the thing at least a hundred times.

See, what Ben and all those other assholes in his team failed to know about was the weapon you held in your grasp. It wasn’t a gun, not a knife either. It was all so simple; a shapeshifter.

Your best friend Lindsay was a B-grade supe, a fact hidden from pretty much everyone. She couldn’t hold the form for longer than an hour, but you didn’t need longer than that to get your work done.

It took no convincing to get her to shift into Ben and get into bed with you -- you were very close with each other --, where you two made your own movie; Ben sobbing when he came. Then came his own headline:

Soldier Boy and high-profile congresswoman in love??

It wasn’t as scathing as yours, but you knew it would hit his fragile ego in just the right way, maybe even knock a few of his fans out of their obsession. You had no qualms about sharing this video with the world. He had started this war; you were trying to end it.

The second before he cried the words out again, the video paused with an incoming call.

“You bitch!”

“Baby, I didn’t know it was gonna be a double-feature!” You smiled with the words, listening to his breathing quicken in anger.

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you. You hear me? You’re fuckin’ dead!”

“Ah, ah,” you tutted, throwing a condescending tone on, “that’s no way to talk to your girlfriend.”

It was really more of Vought’s idea. They thought it would be appropriate given the circumstances for you two to be a couple, at least for the rest of your campaign. They knew there was no getting rid of you, and if they didn’t agree to this, you would smear them and Soldier Boy through the mud.

“This means nothing. Watch your fuckin’ back, bitch.” Ben growled.

“Love you too, sweetheart.” You purred out the pet name before hanging up.

When he saw you again, the sex was just as good, if not better, than the first time.

[takenbypeter]

<3

Bucky Barnes x reader

Words: 682

A/N: Just a lil pure fluff for Bucky. I’m in my Bucky era again

You stared at your phone. Something was wrong. 

Right?

See you soon <3

You read the text again focusing on the heart at the end. This wasn’t him, right? It must’ve been somebody impersonating him.

You sat at the counter of your kitchen in thought with your phone laying screen up while your hands were interlaced pushed against your lips. 

You were starting to get worried. Should you call somebody, should you call Sam? No they were together, if someone got to him then someone got to Sam too. Your mind was racing in thought. The only thing that broke its focus was the sound of the front door unlocking. 

Your eyes darted to the sound as you grabbed a nearby knife. But the hammering in your heart stopped once you saw Bucky entering your apartment. 

You let out a sigh putting the knife down as he threw his duffel bag to the floor before looking at you for the first time. 

“Woah, is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. I just thought something went wrong on the mission for a moment, that's all.”

He frowned, taking his shoes off and stepping closer. “I said I’d see you soon, why would anything be wrong?”

He planted a kiss on your cheek, passing by you to grab a plum from the fruit bowl. 

“I don’t know, I guess your message just threw me off.”

He let out a hmm, sort of in agreement. But that was it. 

“Well the ending was the part that really threw me off.”

He nodded again as if that was that. 

You were going to have to yank the bull harder to get the answer from him. 

“So yeah, what was up with that? That’s not like you?”

“What?”

You pick up your phone, “Bucky, come on…” he looked at you as if having no idea what you’re talking about, you had to fill in the answer for him to continue the conversation, “the heart at the end! You’ve never done that before.”

“Oh I just thought it was a nice thing,” he shrugged it off as if it was no big deal. 

“It is a nice thing, a really sweet nice thing but it’s just it’s so random, you know?”

Bucky sighed, “yeah I figured, you know I don’t tell you enough how much I care for you, so I figured I’d start doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Telling you I love you.”

Now that. That took you aback. 

“Huh? You don’t tell me how much you love me?”

“Yeah…it took me so long to say it and some guys were talking on the mission and it just made me realize that I don’t say it as much as I should.” He finally turned to you fully, “I’m sorry, I’ll say it more often from now on.”

You wave your hands in the air trying to shut down this whole claim of his, “stop just stop. You say it all the time. It might not be verbal but you say it in the little things; when you make dinner, when I fall asleep and you carry me to the bed, when you buy me something because it reminds you of me—that’s all you telling me you love me Buck. Come on now don’t be silly,” you continue, clearly upset that he would even accuse himself like this, “and you do tell me you love me, so whatever those guys said they can buzz off. If anything it’s not you who doesn’t say it enough it’s me who doesn’t say it enough, so Bucky,” you go to where he’s now seated on a stool and you put two hands to his cheek squishing them in the process, “I love you.”

Bucky’s stoic expression breaks in your hands, knowing you’re passionate about his feelings and that you just want him to know how good he is, “I love you too.”

You grin and kiss him chastely. “Now aside from that, the heart was a cute touch. I'm definitely screenshotting this.”

Bucky rolled his eyes while a smile continued to decorate his lips. 

[dreamescapeswriting]

Too Far ~ LMH

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Minho x reader

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - October 2024

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

Minho was always the same with you—sharp words, quick jabs, endless teasing, it was just how your relationship had been for as long as you could remember. His playful insults had always been something you could brush off, masking your feelings behind a smile. After all, you were in love with him, and a small part of you liked the attention that would come from him, even if it came in the form of teasing.

But recently, things have changed...a lot. Life was heavier, the weight on your shoulders making it harder to pretend everything was fine and yet you hadn't voiced it to him. You thought maybe he'd sense that you weren't in the mood lately and he would stop but he did.

Minho’s teasing didn’t sting before, but now… now it felt like someone was squeezing a lemon on a wound that was already raw.

Today had been the final straw. You'd finally snapped and had enough of everything.

You sat with the group, the usual chatter filling the room. Minho, as always, was sitting across from you, smirking like he always did when he was about to say something. And he did, some offhanded comment about how you always seemed to be distracted lately, how you weren’t even able to keep up with the conversation anymore.

"Maybe you’re just not smart enough to follow along?" he joked, the words light in his tone but heavy in their impact. It hit deeper than it should have, but being teased for your brain was always something that you'd gotten in school and it made you feel...small. Useless and insignificant to him. That coupled with the stress from everything else, the sleepless nights, the anxiety you hadn’t shared with anyone—not even him—it all bubbled up inside you, and for the first time, you couldn’t laugh it off.

"Maybe you should just stop talking," you snapped, your voice much sharper than you intended. The room fell silent, everyone turning to look at you in surprise. Chan stared at you in shock, he'd always been there telling you to stand your ground against Minho but you'd never do it...until now. Minho blinked, taken aback, scoffing softly as he tried to play everything off as a casual joke.

"Woah, I was just kidding."

"Yeah, well, it’s not funny anymore," you muttered, standing up quickly. You shuffled your stuff around until you gathered it all up, you couldn’t stay there, not with everyone’s eyes on you and Minho’s confused expression making it worse. Without another word, you left the room, your heart pounding as you made your way outside.

You didn’t hear Minho calling your name as you left.

"What the fuck was that about?!" Minho snapped at the others who all looked at him with sheepish looks. It was clear to anyone with a working set of eyes that you weren't in the mood for his games.

"She's had enough, Minho. God, last week I found her crying in her apartment." Felix grumbled and the comment hit him harder than he thought it would have. The idea of you crying because of something he said made his stomach twist and turn.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Hyung...In all due respect, I thought you hated her," Felix mutters a little and it was then that Minho realised just how far he had taken things. That if his own friends couldn't tell where the lines blurred then there was no chance in hell you would have been able to either and he'd fucked up...big time.

"I'll call her...S-She'll answer. She always does." He mutters, dragging his phone out of his pocket and calling you. That was one thing he could always rely on, you always picked up the phone no matter the time, no matter what day you answered him.

Except, this time.

You didn't.

It had been three days since the incident, and you’d been avoiding everyone—especially him. He’d tried to call, text, and even show up at your place, but you didn’t want to talk. You'd sent back all of the presents he'd sent to you and when the florist stated they couldn't take the flowers you donated them to a hosptial and the nursing home down the street.

You couldn't deal with anyone or anything right now. Especially not to him, no one who spoke to him because you knew that they would try and talk to you about it and relax you. Right now, you needed space and time to sort through everything without the added weight of Minho’s teasing hanging over you.

But it didn’t stop the ache in your chest every single time you thought about him. The desperate urge to run back there and forgive him like you always did in the past but this time you wanted to stand your ground. You wanted him to realise that the weight of his words had an effect on you.

But despite everything, you missed him. His stupid jokes, the way he made everyone laugh, the way he made you feel noticed, even if it was in the most frustrating ways. The way he'd always see you even when you thought you were invisible to everyone else around you. But you couldn’t forget the hurt he'd put you through. While he might have made you feel visible he was blind to everything else, he didn’t realize you were struggling and he never saw beyond his teasing to see what you were going through.

Meanwhile, back at the dorms, Minho was losing it. He wasn’t used to this—used to you being upset with him. You were always there, always able to take his jokes, always smiling despite his teasing. But this time… this time he’d messed up. And he had no idea how to fix it. Everything he tried to do failed. The bears were returned to the store, the florist told him you'd donated the flowers and the takeout he sent to you was always given to the homeless. Nothing was working.

The guilt gnawed at him, he found himself unable to sleep or eat. The more time passed, the more he realized how blind to what he was doing to you. He missed you, more than he cared to admit, and with that realization came another...something he hadn’t fully accepted before.

"You're dumb," Felix told him as they sat across from each other in the living room. Minho had just finished confessing all of the conflicting feelings he was feeling,

"How am I dumb?!" he snapped angrily,

"You're in love with her, you dumb bitch." Felix laughed a little and Minho sat there. His mouth open as he tried to deny it but the more he thought about it...the more he realised Felix was right.

He cared about you. More than just as a friend. More than just someone he could joke around with. He was in love with you...head over heels in love and now, he might have lost you because of his own stupidity.

That same night Minho found you at the park, sitting in the same spot you always went to when you needed to clear your head. It was the same park he would go to with you sometimes, you'd taken him one night when he needed to clear his head and he'd followed you blindly.

You didn’t see him at first, too lost in your thoughts about him, but when you did, you immediately stood up, ready to leave.

"Wait, please," Minho’s voice stopped you in your tracks. He'd been tempted to reach his hand out and touch you but he stopped himself, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You turned to look at him, there was something different in his tone—something softer, almost desperate.

You hesitated but sat back down on the bench, your eyes on your hands as he slowly approached, stopping a few feet away, his hands shoved in his pockets like they always were when he was nervous.

"I messed up," he started, his voice quiet. You scoffed a little,

"Fucked up,"

"Yn," He chuckled softly, he hadn't realised just how much he'd missed your voice, even if it was just scolding him for something.

"I know I did. I didn’t realize… I didn’t know you were going through something." You looked away, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively.

"It’s not just about that, Minho. You always tease me, always make me feel… small. And I never said anything because I didn’t want to make it awkward. But I can’t take it anymore. Not right now." The rawness in your voice hit him hard, and his hands twitched at his sides, he wanted to reach out and comfort you but he forced himself to stay still. He’d never realized the extent of his teasing, how much it might have hurt you. He always thought it was just fun, that you were okay with it because you never said anything.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice cracking. He knew that there was no apology in the world that he could give that would have made all of this better but he wasn't going to stop until you forgave him.

"I should’ve seen it. I should’ve been paying more attention, instead of just thinking I could joke around all the time. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you." You stayed silent, your eyes fixed on the ground. Minho took a step closer, his heart pounding, there was no way he could lose, not like this. Not when he finally understood how much you meant to him.

"I miss you," he admitted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He'd been trying to think of what he was going to say to you but the words were lost on him, nothing felt as though it would be good enough to make up for what he'd done.

"I miss being around you, even if all I ever did was make dumb jokes. And… I’ve realized something else." You glanced up at him, and he took a deep breath.

"I’m in love with you...I don’t know when it happened, or how, but I know that’s what this is. And I’m sorry it took me hurting you to figure that out." Your breath hitched, eyes widening in surprise. You'd always dreamt of hearing this from him but this, of all the things you expected him to say,  wasn’t one of them.

"I’ll do anything to make it right," Minho continued, his voice soft and sincere. "I don’t want to lose you. Not like this...Please,"

For a long moment, you just stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Part of you wanted to push him away, to hold onto the hurt and make him pay for hurting you. But the other part of you—the part that still loved him—could see how much he was trying. How much he meant what he was saying.

"I don’t know, Minho. I need time… to figure things out." He nodded, stepping back, respecting the boundaries that you were putting in place for him,

"I get it. Take all the time you need. Just… don’t shut me out forever, okay?" You gave him a small nod, and for the first time in days, a bit of the tension between you eased. It wasn’t fixed yet, but it was a good enough start for him.

After the first few weeks of your time in the park with him, you kept your distance, and Minho respected that, he didn't push you into anything you didn't want to do. There was no pressure, no sudden visits, just the space you asked for. But even though he gave you the time to think, Minho didn’t stop trying.

Day after day, there would be small signs that he hadn’t forgotten and was doing his best to grovel for you.

One day there was a bouquet of your favorite flowers at your doorstep. There was no note, but you knew it was from him, of course it was. It wasn’t grand like the last time. It was a simple bouquet and, just simple daisies, the ones you always loved but rarely treated yourself to.

The next day, there was a text from Minho.

I hope the flowers didn’t freak you out. Just wanted to remind you that I’m still here. I'll wait however long it takes.

You didn’t respond, but something about the gesture warmed your heart, even if you weren’t ready to fully forgive him yet.

He started showing up at your favourite café, but always at a distance.  You’d walk in, spot him sitting at a table across the room, and feel the familiar flutter in your chest. He never approached you, only offering a nod or a small smile if you caught his eye. But he was there. Every day.

Eventually, you texted him.

You don’t have to do this, you know.

His reply was quick.

I know. But I want to. xx

The distance between you began to shrink day after day, week after week and you found yourself lingering at the café, sitting just a few tables away instead of on opposite sides. Neither of you said much, but the quiet presence was enough for now.

He didn’t push, and that’s what made it easier to start letting the walls down with him, slowly letting him into your life again. One day, you finally agreed to sit with him, both of you sipping your drinks in silence for a while before Minho spoke.

“I miss talking to you,” he admitted softly. “Even if it’s just a dumb joke here and there. I miss… us." You didn’t know how to respond, but something in your chest loosened. The pain was still there, but it was obvious to you that it was in fact, fading.

By the time a month had passed, things had started to feel… normal again between the two of you. Minho was still cautious, still careful with his words, but the tension that had once hung between you had started to dissipate. He’d stopped teasing altogether, focusing instead on real conversations—ones where he actually listened.

One afternoon, as you both sat on a bench in the park, you finally brought it up.

“I think I’m ready to forgive you,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. Minho froze, his gaze snapping to yours, the food he was holding nearly fell to the floor and his eyes widened a little.

“Are you sure?” You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"You gonna try and talk me out of it?" you teased but he quickly shook his head at you, stumbling and stuttering over his words before you touched his hand,

“I’m sure. It wasn’t easy, but I’ve seen how hard you’ve been trying. You didn’t have to, but you did.” He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and he smiled at you.

“I don’t want to mess this up again. I’ll do better, I promise.” For the first time in weeks, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

"I believe you.” You whispered and he squeezed your hand gently, his heart swelling with relief. He knew there was still work to be done, but for now, this was enough.

Months had passed since that quiet afternoon in the park, where you’d finally forgiven Minho. Things had slowly but surely returned to normal between you two—only, this time, it was better. The teasing that once felt like jabs had softened, and Minho had become more mindful, more attentive.

He still had his moments, of course. That mischievous gleam in his eye would never completely go away, and you wouldn’t want it to. But now, when he joked, it came from a place of warmth, of care. He no longer crossed lines, and when he did slip up, he was quick to apologize. It was a kind of growth you hadn’t expected, but one that made your bond even stronger.

Tonight was special. The two of you were walking through the streets, the cool breeze brushing against your skin as the city lights twinkled above. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a quiet evening after a long day, but there was a peace between you two now that hadn’t been there before.

As you walked side by side, Minho’s hand slipped into yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a way that had become second nature. Neither of you said anything for a while, just enjoying the calm of the night and the comfort of each other’s presence.

Eventually, Minho broke the silence, his voice soft but teasing in that familiar way.

“So… you think I’ve been good enough to deserve a reward yet?” You shot him a playful look. A reward? What did he think this was? You couldn't help but giggle a little at him,

“A reward? For what?” He grinned, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“For not being a complete idiot all the time.” You laughed, the sound light and easy, and it felt good. So good. It had been far too long since you'd been like this with him and he was lapping up every single minute of it.

“You’re still an idiot sometimes.” you teased,

“Yeah, but now I’m your idiot,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, making you roll your eyes in amusement.

“I guess that’s true,” you admitted, squeezing his hand, kissing his cheek softly,

“Lucky me.” The banter was light between you both and it was relaxing. You never felt stupid around him anymore, he never made you feel small. As you continued walking, Minho’s gaze softened, his usual teasing expression fading into something more sincere.

“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “I’m really glad you forgave me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you.” You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder as you walked.

“Lucky for us, we'll never have to find out.”

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