#the sun does Not shine out of her ass

[ssaalexblake]

fjdjskhsidirba the insinuation that it was Kevin who treated Garcia like crap when she pulled some of that shit on him. That thing with the job she did, with the hacking that caused him to lose the opportunity bc she wanted him around? That was the second he should have run the hell away from Her for being a walking red flag. If a male character did that to a female one... Hoo boy. Can you imagine the uproar?

Why, why do fans of cm like to walk around acting like the ladies are the ones treating their love interests like crap when, odds are, they're being totally reasonable and the women are acting like they have the conflict resolution talents of fourteen year olds?

Garcia's talents for intimate relationships are non existent and it's actually quite a fun part of her character that the sunshine rainbow one whom is often portrayed as the loved one at home is actually just. Bad at treating people right. She's Not a flat character.

Anyway. Garcia stringing Kevin along for years without bothering to tell him she wasn't interested in anything long term was shitty 🤷 but not even close to the worst thing she did to the guy I guess, so there is that. But flip the genders here and Garcia would be utterly panned by fandom in that entire relationship and would deserve it.

Incidentally, she would also be panned in literally any of her 'romance' arcs 👀

[so-sick-of-17]

I got a Tory stan who made a Sam anti edit show up on my tiktok fyp. Gross. They really are the worst.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Barbie scholars, designers, and collectors, for decades: "yeah, Ken is just an accessory. the symbolism there is really interesting!"

everyone else: [crickets]

a celebrity who just started caring about Barbie approx. five seconds ago: "what if Ken...is just an accessory?"

everyone else: "OH MY GOD GENIUS"

HER BRAIN

[menagerofmischief]

Heart song (OP81)

summary: in the middle of dating rumors, current music industry hit, y/n l/n releases a love song which leaves no space to deny her relationship. -> based on this request

fc: olivia rodrigo

cw: bad language,

a/n: the only bands I listen to are a bunch of old men or a bunch of dead man, safe to say I don't know much about bands so I made her a solo artist.

liked by: oscar piastri, sabrinacarpenter, and 1,556,895 more

yourusername: something coming soon, or whatever

comments:

ynsleftshoe: oscar in the likes before me again

hooklinesinker: girl same! and I got notifications on cococroissant: the struggle of making it here before pee ass tree vrom vrom is real

ynupdates: mother is cooking and eating for real

sabrinacarpenter: so excited for it!

justonechange: the bond between two girls scorned by a man is unbreakable breakmyback: sabrina is so me right now

likealovesong: my hears are about to be blessed again! thank you god for answering my prayers

liked by landonorris and 1,345 more

f1wagupdates: seems like a new wag may be entering the paddock, showcasing papaya!

mclaren driver, oscar piastri, has been spotted being touchy and affectionate with pop star, y/n l/n. this is not the first time the two have been spotted together.

comments:

vroomyroom: what the hell is lando doing in the likes of a wag updates page

norrizzz: he's so messy fr

user454: seriously what's wrong with you people, leave them alone!

justanichident: oscar's lucky he's good that polite cat smile because those hands do be wondering

breakmyback: I too am no better than a man (I'd be touching y/n's ass all the time if I could)

user334: ow! they're so cute together!

user331: power couple vibes

user564: ew, he can do so much better

user887: SHE can do much better

liked by hattiepiastri, nicolepiastri, yourusername and 1.345.221 more

oscarpiastri: great vacation, lots of sun

comments:

macmylarens: if bwoah was an instagram caption it would be tht

rockabye: who does bro think he's fooling with that soft launch

dropstoproll: like sir, we all know that's y/n l/n, now give us some good content

landonorris: you really poured your heart out with that caption mate

ynupdates: I spy with my little eye, y/n in the likes

justonechange: so ... he's not that bad

user423: I get y/n, he's hot

liked by sabrinacarpenter, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 1.978.645 more

yourusername: Summer When Everybody Ever Thought, Love In Knowledge Existed, Yellow Orchids Unidentified

see you on august 19th ;)

comments:

ynupdates: NEW ALBUM ALERT!!!

breakmyback: I don't care if a man driving in circles for living inspired it, new music is coming!

sabrinacarpenter: that caption triggered my dyslexia

justonechange: no because same user332: I thought I was the only one!

dotsaredotting: hear me out, the aesthethic of this album is orange (so far), and there's a car, mclaren F1 team is orange ("papaya" or wtv), oscar piastri drives for mclaren, oscar is soft launching, they wore spotted together = they're dating

crazyonce: this is so delulu it may be trululu

ynupdates: in case you thought you were crazy for not getting the caption, every words starts with a capital latters and all the letters together spell SWEET LIKE YOU which is either a song on the album or the name of the album

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, hattiepiastri, and 2.021.331 more

yourusername: the way sun shines over beaches, the first taste of summer peaches, yellowed pages of a favorite book it may all be sweet but not sweet like you.

my new album, sweet like you, is now available to stream. this is such a special album for me which is why it's dedicated to such a special person. I love you, Osc, keep on being sweet.

comments have been turned off for this post

liked by yourusername, sabrinacarpenter, landonorris and 1.987.554 more

oscarpiastri: every day I'm grateful I get to have you. you're the sun of my morning, the stars of my evening, the breath of my lungs and the song of my heart. I love you, y/n.

comments:

landonorris: wow, you actually poured your heart out with this one

sabrinacarpenter: she was mine first car boy, remember that

hattiepiastri: I hope you know how much cooler than you your girlfriend is

yourusername: love you too, my sweet boy <3

comments have been limited on this post

[saucingitup]

Kraken broadcaster JT Brown shares why Pride is so important to him and why he’ll be celebrating the LGBTQ+ community all month long

June is an exciting month. There’s Stanley Cup final hockey on the TV, the sun is shining down on Seattle, I hit the links on Father’s Day, and it's Pride month—a month dedicated to celebrating the LGBTQ+ community and commemorating the 1969 Stonewall Uprising in Manhattan. In our house, June is a busy month, but nothing gets celebrated harder than Pride.

Earlier this month, I had the honor of playing in the Seattle Pride Classic at the Kraken Community Iceplex. The invitation to share the ice with LGBTQ+ players from all over is an honor I don’t take lightly. Striking up a conversation on the bench between shifts, I turned to the player next to me. “Nice tape job. Canucks fan?” I said, noting the different colors of tape spiraling down the blade. “No, these colors represent one of the queer flags,” they said.

The bad news is I felt like an idiot. The good news is, I’ll always recognize that flag. Trying means stumbling, losing the puck, shooting wide (pick your analogy), but I’ve never been too proud to admit I caused the turnover and apologize. And we both laughed because sometimes falling on your ass is funny.

From ice to asphalt, the Pride celebration continues as my family and I will be at the 50th annual Seattle Pride Parade on June 30. As someone who is known for their flair for flashy game-day suits, it should not come as a surprise that I love an excuse to get dressed up. Throw in good music and free swag and you’ll understand why I don’t miss a pride parade.

And no one does pride quite like Seattle. It’s no wonder the Kraken pull up to the parade every year with a crew so deep I momentarily worry we’re going to hold up the parade. We’re out there flinging Kraken giveaways like someone is keeping score of how many each employee can hand out—I always aim for the high score.

Of course, being an ally isn't just flinging Kraken patches into a crowd or embarrassingly mistaking flag colors for rival team branding. A lot of it is just showing up.

I show up for my queer wife so she knows I support her even if I still don’t understand what “Brat summer” means. I show up for my kids so they know I love their authentic selves no matter what. I show up for my friends so they know they’re safe with me. I show up because there are LGBTQ+ people out there who are being stood up by the ones they love, by policies, by corporations, by strangers.

People always praise me for being an ally, but having been on the receiving end of bigotry, I know how much easier it is to stand on this side. When I fight for BIPOC equality, I am always lifted by the voices and support of the LGBTQ+ community. Every single time, they have supported me in my fight to help end racism in hockey.

They have been incredible teammates to me and so being one to them was never a choice I made, it was just something I did—and will continue to do with whatever platform I’m given. Everyone deserves the safety and support to live their authentic lives. When we lift up those who need us most, we all reap the benefits of a safer and more inclusive space.

This Pride month, I’d like to encourage others to show up—unabashedly loud and proud—for yourself and for others. Have a happy, safe, and fun Pride!

[wynnyfryd]

@messessentialist told me her friend called to rant about spotting an “upsettingly beautiful boy in a tj maxx” and i vomited 1200 words about it, enjoy

—

fic idea: chrissy and eddie work together at tj maxx. one afternoon a guy comes in who’s so hot that it kinda just pisses eddie off? bc like, who does this gorgeous asshole think he is??? coming in here and popping his hip at eddie’s counter, like, does he even know how uncomfortable it is to start chubbin’ up in skinny jeans?? that shit chafes!

so eddie gets all flustered and responds by getting an attitude with the guy because he has zero chill (and also because the dude’s iced coffee is sweating a ring all over eddie’s counter, and so help him if his manager gets on his ass one more time about keeping his station tidy—)

“did you need help finding anything else today?” eddie sneers. “coasters, perhaps?”

upsettingly hot guy looks confused for a second before he follows eddie’s pointed glance at the plastic starbucks cup leaving a cold puddle on the laminate, and then he sneers right back; adjusts the ray bans nestled in his perfect honey brown hair and looks eddie up and down — long, slow, one eyebrow lifting in subtle elitist disapproval.

“what?” he snorts, “hot topic wasn’t hiring?”

oh, fuck you very much!

so eddie’s all ‘nemesis acquired’ and holds the biggest grudge of all time. makes a sworn enemy and a boogeyman out of the guy, turns him into urban legend, starts blaming the Upsettingly Beautiful Man for every little thing that goes wrong in his life — at work, at home, at band practice; no place is safe from the dreaded UBM.

“he’s not a fucking cryptid!” gareth snaps one day at rehearsal, chucking a drumstick at eddie’s head. “just track him down and bone already so you can shut the hell up!”

“wouldn’t he just talk about him more after they have sex?” jeff wonders, to which gareth narrows his eyes and raises his second drumstick as a threat.

meanwhile, eddie’s cute coworker chrissy (who he’s become surprisingly good friends with, to the point of referring to her as his work wife) gets a girlfriend. robin’s sooooo pretty, and soooo nice, and sooooo tall, eddie, did you know how tall she is?

yes, chrissy, he’s supremely aware of a stranger’s five-foot-eight-and-a-half stature now, thank you.

“you have to meet her!” chrissy gushes, bouncing up onto her toes.

eddie hangs another shirt. “you have to chill.”

“hey!” she pouts, pixar princess cute. “you wouldn’t tell the sun to dull its shine, would you?”

“i mean, i would, but i doubt the giant ball of plasma cares what i want.”

“okay, whatever, eeyore.” she rolls her eyes but she physically can’t stop beaming even as she does it, and eddie finds himself melting under it — some sort of radiant area attack coming from the apples of this girl’s cheeks, he swears, because the next thing he knows he’s agreeing to go to rando new girlfriend’s housewarming party this weekend so he can meet her properly.

only he doesn’t get to meet her properly, because when he shows up to the party the two bedroom apartment is packed with people he’s never seen, and it’s loud as fuck in here and he’s sweating through his leather from the six flights of stairs he had to climb to reach the place, so he steps through a sliding door out to the balcony and lo and behold, if it isn’t Upsettingly Beautiful Man looking upsettingly beautiful — positively fucking divine, actually, the last wisps of fuchsia sunset catching the gold streaks in his hair and dotting the tip of his flawless nose. Seriously, does this dude have any flaws? A scar, a birthmark, an unsightly ingrown hair? Eddie can’t even see a single blackhead for fuck’s sake.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” the dude mutters, turning to look at him, and, “oh, my god, you again?”

“uh.”

“i’ve got a fucking coaster this time,” the guy says, lifting his solo cup and giving it a little shake to point out the cork round sitting underneath it, “so if that’s what you came out here to berate me for, then you’ll have to think of something else.”

“uh,” eddie says again, because he has no idea what brought this on but he’s pretty sure it has shit all to do with him, and pretty boy’s really working himself up now, arms moving in sharp gestures as he paces back and forth on the short balcony.

“not that it even matters if i didn’t have a coaster, because this is my house! i can do what i want with my own fucking stuff in my own fucking apartment, nance, i don’t— uh…”

pretty boy’s face blossoms rose petal red, a heavy blush creeping up his jawline as he catches himself mid rant and folds in on himself, crossing his arms over his chest with a sheepish expression.

eddie’s always had a thing for shepherding.

“i’m listening,” he says, popping a cigarette in his mouth and holding the pack out in offering. “if you care to vent.”

the guy — steve, eddie finds out — tells him all about his controlling ex-girlfriend as they work their way through two cigarettes each, the sun slipping away to reveal a full topaz moon, big and low and close, ripe citrus bending the branch of a tree. nance was a real piece of work by the sounds of it, and eddie feels like an absolute shit for the way he treated steve, who had apparently just gotten dumped the night before they met and had been out shopping for a “please take me back” present.

“like that was ever gonna work,” steve mumbles, ashing over the railing. “pathetic. anyway, sorry i was rude to you that day or whatever.”

“you weren’t.”

“nah, i was.” steve shifts his weight, knocks their shoulders together. “not that you didn’t deserve it.”

“yeahhhh,” eddie agrees, cringing at himself. “sorry.”

“all good. so what’s your story then, huh? who pissed in your cheerios that day?”

eddie blames the alcohol fumes wafting from steve’s cup — a justification that makes perfect sense and would totally hold up in a court of law — for what he says next.

“honestly? you.”

steve’s face is so cartoonishly offended that eddie busts out laughing, eyes crinkling, head thrown back.

“oh, so you’re just an asshole,” steve nods sagely. “first cute guy to flirt with me in six weeks is a lunatic. love that for me.”

“no, i—” eddie laughs, “okay, we’re coming back to how you think i’m cute, but i just meant, uh-”

oh, fuck it. eddie’s never been good at holding his cards close to the chest. more of a 52 pick up kinda guy, historically, and why change now?

“you were so gorgeous it, like, genuinely upset me for a second,” eddie admits, running his tongue over his lip. he stubs out his cigarette; turns to look right at steve. “like, uh, like cuteness aggression or some shit.”

steve mirrors his posture, leaning an elbow on the railing, nearly chest to chest. “so you are crazy,” he smiles.

“that’s correct.” eddie swallows.

steve moves in to close the gap. “good crazy?”

“fun crazy, so i’m told.”

“i’m gonna kiss you if that’s cool.”

“very”

the kiss tastes like ripe citrus

[wonderjanga]

Billy and Freddy along with Mary watches gacha reaction videos (if you don't know what that is your missing out). But they can only do it in the watch tower and stuff due to the lack of technology in Fawcett. This ideas been going around in my head for a while and I KNOW Freddy would love it.

Hal was having a normal day. The sun was shining, the Earth looked beautiful from the Watchtower. He wanted to go watch the game on one of the Watchtower’s gigantic and beautiful TVs.

GL: *on his merry way to one of the rec rooms, whistling a little tune*

Marvel and Junior: *occasional gasps*

GL: *thinking they’re watching a horror movie and decides he’ll just watch it with them until it’s over* “Hey guys-”

Marvel and Junior: *sitting right in front of the screen, staring like iPad babies and watching a Rivals react to Ayano Aishi vid*

GL: *stares for like a solid second* “What- What the fuck are y’all doing?”

Marvel: *pauses it* “Huh?” *looks back to Hal*

GL: “Why are you guys watching this baby content?”

Junior: *sounds offended* “It’s not baby stuff.”

GL: “Uh yeah. It is.”

Marvel: “No, it isn’t. Stop being a hater.”

GL: “Marvel, you’re a grown ass man. And Junior? You’re at least 14. Why are you watching this??”

Junior: “It’s entertaining.”

GL: “Entertaining. Really?”

Marvel: “Yeah! Come on.” *pats a spot next to him* “Watch it with us.”

GL: “Dude, no.”

Marvel and Junior: *share a look* “Watch it. Watch it. Watch it.” *chanting*

Hal eventually caved.

That’s how he found himself sitting on the floor with them, and watching a surprisingly entertaining “mha reacts to deku as kokichi video”. A couple minutes later, Mary came by with snacks and joined them.

Mary: “I brought some Cheetos and popcorn- wha? You guys started without me?!”

Marvel and Junior: “Sorry, Mary.” *in unison and in shame*

Mary: *sighs and just sits down with them* “Why’s Green Lantern here??

GL: “I just found the fact that a grown man finds this entertaining very interesting.” (He’s actually completely enthralled in these but he’s too embarrassed to admit it)

Mary: “Uh huh… sure.”

Hal’s a little ashamed to admit that they spent like two hours straight doing this until they transitioned into the GLMMs.

GL: “Wait, I don’t get it. Why does the Mom just not love her child?”

Marvel: *shrugs* “Cause she’s mean.”

A couple minutes later…

GL: “Wait, why did the dad die?!”

Mary: “For story progression!”

Like ten minutes later…

GL: “She’s a wolf-cat-angel-demon-unicorn hybrid…?”

Junior: “Yep, she’s special!”

GL: “HAH! Her bitch of a sister’s just a cat!”

Marvel, Mary, and Junior: *all just happy Hal’s invested*

After a couple GLMMs such as Bad Girls vs Gangsters, Emotionless Girl, and The CEO is my Boss, (shout out to everyone who watched these) they moved on to even more kiddy content. Such as Fnaf videos, but not just any… no no no, these ones

After the Fnaf thingy…

GL: “Damn.” *stands up* “My ass hurts from sitting on the ground for so long.”

Marvel: “Dang…” *pauses their next gacha vid* “So you’re out?”

GL: “Yup.” *stretches*

Mary: “It was nice having you Mr. Green Lantern Sir.”

Junior: “Yeah, thanks for letting us put you on.”

Marvel, Mary, and Junior: *same blinding smile*

Also, by the way, they were definitely watching GLMVs and singing along to “I’m a bad girlfriend” and “She’s crazy but she’s mine” and “Copycat” and “Queen.” All of which were and still are peak and I stand by that till this day.

[sugucidal]

# HOW TO SEDUCE YOUR NEIGHBOR 101 !!

CHAPTER i. [3k words]

୨୧‬┊pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! reader

୨୧‬┊synopsis: with winter break having rolled around the corner, you’ve decided to spend it with your family back at home. it felt nice being back after 2 years away at university. you just wish your mom had told you that a certain guest was visiting. one that you hadn’t expected to ever have to face again.

୨୧‬┊warnings: fluff! + age gap (reader is 19 and toji is 34) + taboo content (cause what’re u doin tryna get tojis middle aged ass in ur bed smh) + slice of life kind of (??) + suggestiveness + humor + reader is in her winter bimbo era + toji is…toji. + no smut yet sorryy + slight slowburn + everything is legal! no ones going to jail!

୨୧‬┊a/n: first chapter woohooo !!! second chapter will finally be coming out on [redacted] <3

‪MAIN POST | part i. > part ii. > part iii.

Tugging at the sleeves of your jacket further down your hands, you let out an exhale, nerves set ablaze. The typical cool spring air was colder than usual this particular night out, sun having already set and moon shining up into the dark, starry sky.

Fiddling with the hem of your mini skirt, you gazed up, doe eyes glinting heatedly up at the man you've harbored adoration towards.

You were finally gonna confess.

"I want you."

The simple words that held so much weight filled the space between you both.

A sigh in response. Oh no. You already knew what was coming, but you hoped to any deity or god from above that it wouldn't turn out this way.

"Kid, you're way too young for me." The smoke blowing past his lips wafted through the stiff air, his scar pulling at the corner of his mouth in dismay. "If you were older maybe I'd consider it. Wouldn't bet on it though, since you're such a pain in the ass to deal with."

You let his words hang momentarily, trying to come up with a sufficient rebuttal. You knew he was only playing when he said you were a pain to deal with but it still stung your heart to hear it coming from him. But you weren't gonna give up that easily. You've had a crush on this man ever since he moved into the neighborhood years ago!

What started out as innocent puppy love slowly built its way into this desire, stemmed deep at the heart the older you got. You'd watch as he invited women into his home late into the hours of the night, clinging onto him like a leech in a body of lakewater. God, how you wish it was you he'd have brought into his home on those late nights. Lustfully gazing down at you with promises of this being the best you'll ever have, one you'd be thinking back on until the day you die.

He knew exactly just how much you craved for his touch. It wasn't hard to see that he felt the same, you could see it in the way he'd glance in your direction whenever you purposely wore something revealing, hoping to catch his eye. He told you that you shouldn't wear things like that at your age around men, that they were dangerous, intentions impure. As if he wasn't one of those men he was warning you about. But despite it all, he always looked the other way. Kept a boundary of barbed wire up, no way of climbing through. Frankly, it was annoying.

You hate when people play hard to get.

"So...you mean once I'm 18, you'll take up my offer?" If he couldn't get with you because you were 'too young' then surely he'd concede if you were legally an adult...right?

"Not exactly what I said, but sure," Taking one last final drag of his cigar, he stomped it out onto the pavement, sharp eyes gazing at you discerningly one last time before turning the other way.

"Whatever gets you off my case."

That was the last time you spoke with Toji and almost 2 years have gone by since then. The rejection after the confession hurt no doubt, but the avoidance of Toji towards you afterwards, hurt like salt to a fresh wound.

You rarely saw him after that, suddenly out for weeks to months at a time for work. Sometimes he'd come by when he was free and have idle chats with your parents any time they saw him down the neighborhood. Not bothering to spare a polite greeting or glance in your direction whenever you were present. What used to be a strong bond between family friend and their doting daughter, having met him at an early age, quickly turned awkward and tense, distance overtaking whatever there once was.

You regret talking to him that night every single day.

Unfortunately, you couldn't bring back the past and fix your fuck up. On the other hand, the days of being immature and bratty were long gone. Having been replaced by someone more mature and less dense.

Living off pre-packaged noodles and staying up till 6 am finishing up assignments for your university classes due the next hour, does that to a person you suppose.

Now with winter break finally having rolled around the corner, you were able to get that good night's sleep your exhausted ass had been craving for. And the home cooked meals your mother had waiting for you was certainly appreciated as well.

Lugging your bags up the front steps to your parents' quaint home, you took a quick look at the classic 'welcome home' mat under your feet that you were sure still hid a key underneath. Lifting the corner of the mat your suspicions were confirmed.

You'd think they'd realize how unsafe this could be one of these days.

Before you could place the key through the silver lock, you were instead met with the distinct sound of hard, oak wood doors being unlocked and swung open.

"Baby, you're finally home! Get in quickly, come on now." Your mother hastily ushered you in, calling over your father to help carry your bags further inside the warmth of your home. The key you held was quickly dropped on the small table near the entrance, and the door kicked shut. The signature smell of a vanilla sugar cookie candle being burnt filled your nostrils, the rest wafting through the air. Anyone would think your family baked with the way they always seem to choose that particular scent regardless of season or weather. Further glancing around, you watched your family's pet cat prance towards you, its furry face wide eyed and complaining to be held. You swear he acted like a dog sometimes.

Guess some things never change.

You just hoped that would've stayed true for a certain someone.

Before you had any more time to dwell on it, you were taken out of your thoughts by the mention of the name you had barely begun to ponder over.

'Speak of the devil', you sighed.

Walking over to the living area, you followed your father picking up your cat on the way, butting in, "Hm? what was that?"

"You remember Toji right?" Nodding your head, your father continued. "We invited him over for dinner tonight."

You paused in your step. "What? Why?" The confusion in your voice was surely noticed. You couldn't exactly say you were unhappy, hell you felt giddy at just the mention of his name, but you were still hung up on the past and weren't ready to face the man that blew off your poor naive, little heart. If you saw his handsome face in person again that's been embarrassingly haunting your dazed mind whenever you're busy writhing and whining atop your soft, cozy sheets—at that dinner table, you might just take the 2 hour car ride back to campus dorms.

You were just a pussy like that. One that couldn't face the culprit of those lingering feelings that had never ceased to falter throughout the years, dead in the eye.

The two quietly glanced at each other at your sudden change in demeanor, eyebrows raised. Before he could continue your mom piped up first, "What do you mean by 'why'? You haven't seen each other in so long. He misses you and I'm sure you two would like to catch up."

"Misses you" You swear your heart might've actually stopped beating. In what world would Toji Fushiguro have missed their friends young daughter after being told straight to their face that they wanted him to fuck her.

"He..misses me?" It sounded a little unbelievable saying it outloud.

"Mhm, after you left for University he asked about you a couple times, wondering when you'd be back to visit," Turning around to walk into the kitchen to get started on dinner, she smiled over her shoulder at you once more, "You must've really left an impression on him."

Nervously laughing you settled your cat down, watching him stride over to sip some water from his bowl.

"Yeah..quite some impression alright."

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Okay. Okay it's fine. Yeah you haven't seen him in years but it's fine! He's just coming over for dinner. You'll greet him with a friendly smile, he'll ask how you've been- or shit, maybe he won't. Maybe he'll just ignore you again like he's already done. Toji mentioning to your parents that he misses you was probably just a misunderstanding and he meant to say the weather has been misty- yeah. Totally plausible.

"What the hell am I doing.." Taking a once-over to look yourself in the mirror, you just finished applying the finishing touches to your makeup, wiping off any excess gloss at the corner of your lips with a q-tip for a sharp finish. Was the gloss necessary given the fact that it was going to be smudged off during dinner anyway?

The answer was yes. Yes It was.

Just because you were having a small dinner that was probably gonna be awkward as hell with a man you've been wanting- didn't want to see, shouldn't mean you couldn't at least look cute.

A sudden faint sound of muffled talking took you out your inner monologue. Putting away your array of makeup displayed on the varnished wood countertop of your vanity, you walked over to the door pressing an ear against it trying to discern what was being said.

'Hm sounds like there's someone else down there..' quietly poking a head out into the hallway you just barely made out a deep yet familiar voice before quickly being startled by your mother calling out your name.

"Hon, come down and greet Toji!"

Fuck. "C–Coming!" straightening up, you calmed your blazing nerves, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of awkward tension that your parents luckily knew nothing of. Bless their complete oblivion.

Walking out into the hallway and down the stairs your eyes immediately locked onto Tojis, gaze shyly looking away and focusing onto nothing in particular. You were better off staring at something near him than at him directly.

Approaching towards where they stood, you tried your best to look as confident as possible. You're a woman now. Not some doe. At least that's what you feel like telling yourself at this moment, as you pick at your nails. Standing straighter, you stood next to your parents, watching as they finished up their talk.

You haven't had a proper conversation with Toji since, well...that night. Not counting the usual greetings you had exchanged with him in the past when you saw each other after. If you could even call it that. If a glance of bare acknowledgement was considered a greeting, then sure. Yet here you were right in front of him, determined to set things right. You had to confront him, it was the only way you'd be able to heal the wound of the past and maybe, even let go.

But first, you'll have to actually talk to him.

Deciding to finally look up at Toji, you were able to make out his features more clearly. He hadn't changed much since you last saw him, still very much tall, and his ever so brooding presence never waned. His jaw was somehow even more defined than before, and he was still rocking the same haircut as he always did.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it I guess.

Overall, he looked good. Better. The best. As he most likely always will be in your eyes.

And you're so lost in your own thoughts that you don't even notice Toji looking down at you in the corner of his eye, trying to hold back a smirk that's beginning to creep up. Silly you, ogling him so openly in front of your own parents. Not like they bothered to ever notice though.

Hearing the three of them laugh about something pulled you away from your stupor, and your attention was immediately latched onto Toji who was the first to speak.

Hopefully he didn't notice you being a creep.

"It's been a while, huh? You still remember me?" You know he's only teasing by asking if you still "remembered" him. The old you would've sassed him up for asking something silly like that, but you don't know if its a good idea to get ahead of yourself and start pulling on his leg this early on.

So you opt for the safest response.

With a polite smile on your lips, you shrugged your shoulders, "Of course. It hasn't been that long."

Toji stared at you for a moment. Shit. Did he not like that answer..?

Then you felt something warm come into contact with the top of your head; it was Toji's hand. Toji was petting you. Or more like ruffling your hair—same difference.

"You barely changed."

You exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding. A moment longer in silence and you don't think you'd be able to hold back the urge to run back up those stairs, slam the door shut behind you, and scream into your pillow.

Why were you so nervous!? You're never nervous when it comes to Toji.

'What's up with me??''

Regardless, you felt yourself being left annoyed at his comment. Disappointed that he probably still saw you as some kid despite not certainly looking or being one at all for that matter.

Too bad you didn't realize he meant it in a different way.

Even if you tried to hide it, Toji could still make out the way you held your hands behind your back, most likely fidgeting with your nails. Seems you've changed, the thought amusing him. The old you he knew would've pounced on him by now, batting your lashes, staring up starry eyed thinking you were being discreet about it.

Nothing gets past him, especially not when you make it so obvious. One thing that hasn't changed though, are the clothes you seemed to purposely wear around him, and him only.

The moment he saw you walk down those stairs, he knew you had him wrapped around your finger all over again. The too short skirt and see-through slip on you adorned leaving almost nothing to the imagination, if not for the cream colored cardigan you wore hiding the slivers of skin, leaving him wanting more of what was underneath.

'What a damn tease..' But Tojis eyes averted by the time your parents noticed your descend towards them. He didn't exactly want them seeing him ogle their daughter so openly.

Before any one of you could say anything more, your mother cut the greetings short. "Great, now that we're all finished reuniting again, let's start eating before the food gets cold."

Walking a little ways behind you, Toji catched the way your hips swayed as you walked. Whether you were doing it intentionally or not, he couldn't say for sure.

But one thing he was sure about, is that you were going to give him one hell of a hard time.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

The rest of dinner went by quickly. Once you were all seated, your parents and Toji had no problem talking with each other. They were busy discussing something, but your mind was too occupied to actually listen in on what they were saying. Too busy playing around with the food on your plate as your mind ran aimlessly, and foot twitching anxiously.

The night could've been worse. Really, it could've. Sure you haven't made any progress yet, but you'll get there! Overall, nothing particular happened. Except for one thing.

Toji couldn't stop looking at you.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Before you knew it, dinner had come to an end. Toji had already taken his leave and bid you all a 'thanks for the meal' and a goodbye. Finally. Now you can slip away to your room, wipe off your makeup, and lay awake in your bed as you regret everything you could've said and done tonight but didn't without anyone noticing–

"Where do you think you're going?" There stood your mom, looking at you expectantly. Were you missing something?

"To my room, why?"

"Didn't you hear at dinner?"

'Was I supposed to hear something at dinner?'

"No, hear what exactly?"

"Tomorrow, you're going out to buy some decorations for a party we're having."

A beat of silence. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as you wondered why the hell you would be having a party.

"Mom… I appreciate that you want to host a welcome back party for me, but there's really no need to." It's sweet that they missed you this much, but you weren't one for parties that were centered around you.

She laughed. "No, no, not a party for you. I know you don't like that kinda stuff,"

Oh. Nevermind then.

"Our annual winter get together. We do it every year with the rest of the neighborhood and we're the ones hosting this time. Have all those cup noodles gotten to your head and you suddenly forgot?" She shook her head in disappointment.

Low blow, mom.

"I didn't forget! I just...didn't know you'd be the ones doing it this year."

"If you were actually paying attention at dinner then you'd have heard."

"Sorry. So, tomorrow you want me to go out and buy decor right? Cool, I'll go after lunch."

Thinking that was the end of that, you began to trudge your way towards the staircase. Already almost at the top when your mother called out to you once more.

"Oh! and Toji's accompanying you."

Yup, definitely going to scream into your pillow tonight.

© SUGUCIDAL 2023 — All rights reserved. Do not copy, modify, or redistribute my work without permission.

[gingerteafairy]

woman's duty (ben x reader)

just ben being ben on an average family meeting

tags n warnings: grumpy!ben, drabble, wife!reader x husband!ben, softdom!ben, mentions of sex, bad language, misogyny, breeding kink.

The sun was shining brightly over your parents' backyard, the scent of barbecue filling the air as laughter and chatter mingled. Ben, ever the charmer, was deep in conversation with your dad—bonding over beer, old sports games, and their mutual grumbles about how “things were better in the old days.” It wasn’t long before he wandered back inside, finding you in the kitchen where you were tossing a salad while your mother busily set the table.

“Hey, sugarplum, when’s lunch gonna be ready? I’m starving,” he grumbled, sliding up behind you and planting a quick kiss on your cheek. His arms wrapped lazily around your waist, pulling you against him.

You smirked, not missing a beat. “When you boys help us with something around here, lunch will magically be ready faster.”

He groaned dramatically, resting his chin on your shoulder. “C'mon, it’s a woman’s duty,” he drawled, biting your shoulder playfully, knowing full well it would get a rise out of you.

You spun around, crossing your arms and glaring up at him. “How does a misogynist like you end up with a wife and kids? Like, really?”

Ben grinned, undeterred, and tugged you back into his embrace despite your mock indignation. “Simple,” he said, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “We only date if it’s worth it. Can’t risk ending up with some ‘new age girl’ who doesn’t know the good'old values. A man raises his voice one decibel these days and—boom! Jail.”

“Good you never raised your voice with me. Maybe you're not that dominant cause you fear your wife, huh?” You teased, raising your eyebrow playfully as you poked his chest.

“Nah, I keep all my care for my lovely scary wife,” he joked, chaste kissing your lips. “But the whores out there? Fuck, they wanna get spanked, shouted and take advantage of the good men of this country. We get the women we know it's worth to raise a family”

“You’re awful,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. He was grumpy, but never did or said something to hurt you, he was a cutie pie around the woman who stole his heart.

“And yet, here I am—your awful husband,” he teased, leaning in to peck your cheek. “Lucky f'me, you’re too kind and forgiving to hold my totally hilarious misogynistic jokes against me.”

“You’re lucky for me having a weird unnatural submission kink,” you shot back, rolling your eyes, though the warmth in your voice betrayed you. “Got all warmed up with you grumpy saying take off your clothes, woman. I'm gonna use you to get more babies.”

“I love you for that, so obedient,” he murmured, grinning as he kissed you again, his grumpiness fading away in the glow of your laughter. “think I wanna make babies now. Down your panties f'me, please, hm?”

“oh, you do?” You tease, biting your lip when he presses his pelvis against you, with his cock already pulsating. Groaning when you wiggled your lower body playfully on his forming tent.

“You’ the death of me, sugar. You and your fucking pretty ass.” He whispered disereful, biting your jaw as he squeezed your ass in his big calloused hands.

Your mother, now halfway through setting the table, cleared her throat loudly. “If you two are done flirting, maybe Ben can help carry the food out?”

“See?” you said smugly, shooting him a triumphant look. “Guess it’s not just a ‘woman’s duty’ after all.”

Ben groaned but grabbed a tray anyway, muttering about how the food better taste amazing. You just laughed, knowing full well he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[starkeyisthelastname]

but does he go to the carnival with her lmfao

he sure does. 😏 this one got real dirty. 💦 remember reader is between nineteen and twenty one while rafe is thirty.

He’s grumpy about it, but he can’t say no to your sugary sweet self, especially when you take a grown man’s cock so well. As annoying your persistent little self was, he had never had someone be so obsessed with him and it boosted his ego a little bit to have a doll like you, wanting to be wrapped around him every day. You had attached yourself to him, because you didn’t know any better, just wanting to live your little princess move fantasy about having a boyfriend.

“Would you quit fuckin’ bouncin around, we ain’t even goin’ for that long.” Rafe grumbled, cigarette hanging from between his lips as he could feel you vibrating in the passenger seat of his beat up pick up. “Like a goddamn bunny rabbit, I swear.” He mumbled to himself, flicking the ash out the rolled down window.

Your pretty eyes were wide and full of excitement as Rafe helped you hop down from the truck. You were trying your best to be patient, waiting for him to finish another cigarette as his blue eyes stared at you underneath the old cap he had on. “C’mere.” He said, voice raspy as he blew out the heavy smoke. You closed the little gap between the two of you, his height imposing over your smaller frame. His free hand grabbed your hip possessively, the sweet scent of baby lotion and vanilla overtaking even the heavy nicotine. “Don’t leave my fuckin’ sight while we’re here. Got that sugar?” He asked, a smirk spreading across his face as he watched you nod eagerly and obediently.

He definitely felt out of his element, and bitched about how expensive shit was even though he wasn’t paying. The only thing that made this place bearable was watching your fat ass and pretty tits bounce around at your excitement. You’d force him to ride the ferris wheel, his massive frame cramped in the small cart as you happily sat next to him. He’d then watch you eat a handful of cotton candy, your eyes lighting up in the Carolina sun as you pointed to a huge stuffed white rabbit on the prize wall of one of the game booths. You’d smack your sticky lips together, tugging at his worn t-shirt to get his attention.

He was feeling a little looser after he coaxed you into letting him get a pint of beer which definitely wasn’t the cheap shit he was use to drinking. He’d take a hefty sip, looking down at you as you gave him those doe eyes and pouty cotton candy covered lips. He’d shake his head, downing the rest of the bitter liquid before tossing the plastic cup into a nearby trash can. He then yanked a few tickets out from your delicate hand, grumbling to himself that he was going to try and win a stupid stuffed animal for a girl nearly a decade younger than him.

And oh were you so happy as the guy pulled it off the shelf, the giant thing nearly the size of you as you tried to hold it up. “Can’t even carry the fuckin’ useless thing, can you babydoll?” He asked with a snort, plucking the toy from you and carrying it with ease in one veiny arm. It was the way you said “thank you�� in that sweet sugary voice, clinging onto him like puppy and that gorgeous little body and pouty face that made him want to do bad things to you over and over.

He was wrong for this and he knew it, a bad man that couldn’t help but get off on the fact he had you faced down in your frilly twin bed, the slightly rusted metal frame squeaking as he pounded into your fluttering cunt. Your father was asleep just across the hall of the quaint trailer, that might as well of been a mini mansion compared to his shit hole of a place. His rough hand held you by the back of the neck, pushing you down into your newly stuffed rabbit to keep your cries quiet.

“Shh.. you can take it. Just be real quiet for me sweet baby..” He grunted, watching his thick cock stretch out your creamy little hole as the moonlight shined in through your pink blinds. “Can’t have your daddy finding’ out you are takin’ a grown man’s fat cock in your precious cunt..” His voice drawled out lowly, watching your manicured little hands grip onto the quilt for support. Your poor makeup had already stained your new white bunny, your face hot as he continued to hold your head down to keep your pretty moans muffled.

You took him so well, and he was as a hung motherfucker to be fucking your tight little cunt the way he was. It took every ounce of him not to bust inside you as you squeezed his cock, cumming around him like a good fuck doll. He couldn’t do that shit yet though, he needed to wait before he knocked you up with his little trailer park babies. He continued to pile drive his toned hips into you, his hand on the back of your neck to keep you grounded while his climax approached.

As his nuts tightened, he quickly pulled out and yanked your limp body over to face him. He gripped your hair tightly, aiming himself over your fucked out face as he tried to keep his groans quiet. “Open your fuckin’ mouth and stick that pretty tongue out.” He grunted, watching as you obliged without any question which only made his seed start to spurt across your beautiful face. “That’s my good girl.. takin’ my fuckin’ nut to your face in your daddy’s house.” He said with an amused breathless chuckle.

[screwitbaby]

naive

hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)

day 3/7

[part 4]

summary: part 3 of my short story naive (go read the others first)!! hamzah attempts to keep your sanity as your feelings for each other unravel and martin gets in arguments with you and mandy bc what else would he be doing???

contains: SFW content, no spoilers (wink wink) ((smooching))

wc: 2.6k-ish

~

"And that's how I managed to catch my first ever legendary Pokémon."

"Riveting." You nod.

Martin rolls his eyes at your dry response.

"Be honest, do you hate me?"

You take a moment to contemplate your answer and he gasps in offense. "Um...no?"

"Well, maybe if I was Hamzah you'd actually care to listen to my stories."

Now you roll your eyes.

The four of you have been relaxing on the beach, taking the day off from tourist activities to soak up the sun and enjoy the present moment. However, it's difficult to do so when you have a yapping social-cue-ignorer next to you, taking all of your attention away from your much-needed quiet time. As the day has slowly melded into the night, you feel the growing urge to stab your eardrums with the tiny umbrella floats in your cocktail glasses.

"No clue what you mean by that," you say, reclining back on your towel.

"You look at him like the sun shines out of his ass when he talks," Martin quips, looking to Mandy for reassurance, who just shrugs and continues queuing music on her phone to play from her bluetooth speaker. "See? I'm right!"

"Right about what?"

The man of the hour jogs up the shoreline and grabs his towel from his chair, tossing it around his shoulders to dry his sopping wet curls. Your eyes stray down to his pecs and before they can go any lower, you avert your stare to the billowing waves.

"That my dearest girl-pause-friend has feelings for—"

"Hey, look over there!" You point at nothing and their eyes follow, bestowing upon you the golden opportunity to march away with your drink clutched in your tense hands.

You sigh once you reach the bar and rest your cheeks on your fists. The bartender gives you a look so you order a sparkling water, slouching onto one of the stools. A minute passes as you breathe in and out, thinking of ways you're going to torture Martin. Then, a hand is placed on your shoulder.

"Martin, I swear to—oh."

Hamzah raises his hands innocently and sits next to you, a startled expression on his face.

"Sorry. He just pushes too much sometimes," you explain sheepishly.

"Unfortunately, I can be a victim of it, too," he jokes, managing to earn an amused huff from you. "He means well, though. I think."

You smile, about to speak when he notices the drink the bartender places in front of you.

"Another already?" He tsks, grabbing it for himself. "What is it this time?"

He takes a languid gulp before slamming the cup down and making a face.

"It's just water," you laugh out.

"I was expecting a vodka Sprite!" He shudders and blinks repeatedly like he's consumed some sort of evil potion. "You enjoy this?"

"It's refreshing!"

"It's disgusting is what it is." He places his palm on his bare stomach.

"Did you come here just to criticize my choice of beverage?"

"No, no," he says, sliding it over to you as his expression softens. "Um, I actually wanted to see if you were alright."

"Oh... I am," you say, your words sounding uncertain. "Don't get me wrong, I love your guys' company, but my social battery can only handle so much, y'know?"

"I get you." He nods, standing. "Do you want me to—?"

"Stay. Please." You motion for him to sit back down and he does. "I don't know what's up with me, I kinda overreacted."

"What was he talking about anyway?"

Your face warms and you hide behind your other drink, taking a sip of the alcohol to soothe your nerves. There's two ways you can go about this: one, tell him that you see him as more than a friend or two, deflect.

You choose the latter.

"Pokémon."

It's not a complete lie.

Hamzah nods while looking confused. "And that made you angry enough to walk away from the conversation?"

"I can be passionate about my pocket monsters..." you trail off, cringing inwardly.

"Right," he says. He doesn't push any further and for that you are grateful. "Well, you can always talk to me when you get sick of him."

You try, really try to keep your eyes off Hamzah when the two of you make it back, but it's like they wander on their own accord. You watch as he pours the last of his water bottle over his head and ruffles his curls to shake them free of any sand. The salty ocean water leaves his hair to dry in defined coils across his forehead. His tanned skin is lit up in a slight orange tinge from the bonfire you guys are sitting in front of, making his eyes shine in the darkness of the night.

You don't have to talk to Martin to make him realize what he did was too obnoxious, even for him. He hands you his wax pen, resuming casual conversation as if the previous couple minutes didn't happen. With smoke filling your lungs and the heat of the fire against your skin, you relax on your back to observe the stars in the clear sky.

You feel a shift in the sand on your right and turn your head to find Hamzah situating himself next to you. He looks down at you and silently gestures for you to pass the pen to him, inadvertently grazing your fingers when he takes it from your grasp.

"How did you guys get so close?" he asks, slowly exhaling. "You 'nd Martin."

"I don't know, honestly." You paused to think, slinging your arm up to rest your head on. "We always had this sense of understanding with each other. I never really questioned our bond from the moment we met, it came so naturally. Well, except that time I thought I liked him."

Hamzah coughs on smoke suddenly, making you tilt your head up at him. He gives a thumbs up as he clears his throat to mutter a small "I'm fine." You take it as your cue to continue speaking.

"I got over that quick, though. I guess I just wasn't used to a guy making me that happy as only a friend," you think out loud. "When Mandy came along, I would push him to get closer with her because I could see how good they were for each other. Then, I realized the possibility of me falling in love with her was way higher than me ever seeing Martin that way."

You crack a smile, Hamzah following suit. He lies down next to you and returns the pen. The couple are dancing nearby. Mandy puts the volume on her speaker up, attempting to do a spin in her boyfriend's arms just for him to spin in hers instead.

"Has that ever happened to you?" you ask. "Unrequited feelings?"

"Too much," he admits bashfully. "I fall way too fast. Like, it's embarrassing."

"No, don't be embarrassed," you say, turning on your side to face him. "It's endearing."

"Really?" He raises his eyebrows, unconvinced. "It's the worst. I get addicted to their laugh and touch. I can't stop thinking of them, of spending time with them. But I never act on it."

You take his words in, staring at his side profile. "Why not?"

"Fear of rejection," he answers. "I don't know where the fear came from. I wish it would stop me from developing feelings in the first place, though."

"But if you never act on it, how can you be sure that they're unrequited?"

He turns to meet your eyes, "I'd rather keep them as a friend than find out they don't feel the same and lose them altogether."

You feel it then, a pang in your chest. This sweet, oblivious boy would rather bottle his emotions away than take his chances. You can't say you're surprised, Martin had made it pretty clear that his best friend was clueless with love—was that too far fetched of a label to put on this thing emerging between you?

"I think you should have some more confidence in yourself," you say, toying with the bow on your bikini. "Whoever it may be, they'd be lucky to have you."

"Thanks?" He laughs the word out. "Maybe I'm too neurotic."

You hum in agreement, shifting closer to his body, feeling his warmth. "Maybe."

He was swaying his legs, but he freezes as soon as he feels you in his space. You hear his breathing falter and pivot your head to hide your smile. You feel particularly bold in that moment, cross faded and giddy. It doesn't even cross your mind that his words might not have been directed at you. Unlike him, you're willing to take that chance.

Your fingers inch across the sand and make contact with his, intertwining after a considerable pause.

"Hey!" Martin shouts, turning the group's attention on him. "Watch this!"

It all happens in a blur. The idiot gets a running start to jump over the bonfire and the rest of you scream. You and Hamzah sit up to watch as he tumbles over the blistering embers, falling onto his knees on the other side. He throws his fists up in celebration while Mandy rushes over to his side.

"Are you crazy?" she scolds him.

"Damn, I should've recorded that," he mumbles.

She scoffs and crosses her arms, storming off. Martin gets on his feet and chases after her.

"Babe, wait—ah!" He trips and quickly scrambles up the beach. "I was just playing around!"

The couple wander off as you and Hamzah are left in the remnants of the scene, avoiding onlookers' stares. When you finally make eye contact with each other, you burst into chest-clutching laughter.

"I feel bad," you say once you calm down, "Mandy looked genuinely pissed."

"I'm sure she's used to it by now, dating him." He sniffles and wipes a tear from his eye. "Not gonna lie, I thought we were about to watch him cook alive."

The two of you get a few more giggles out, peering forward at the crackling fire wordlessly. Although it's on the way to dying out, what he did was still really stupid. Not to mention the fact that he could've been badly hurt and you guys would've had to spend the rest of the trip taking care of him because of his impulsive actions.

"...I kinda wanna do it now."

"...Me too."

So, the two of you stand a couple feet in front of the flames, on your marks like race horses. Your fingers are still comfortably slotted into his, clutching for dear life. You jump up and down, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin from not only the cold, but your nerves, as well.

"Count down?" you suggest.

"On 3," Hamzah says. "Alright?"

"1." You squeeze his hand.

"2." He squeezes back.

"3." You take a deep breath.

"Go!" Both of you scream and charge forward.

You halt at the last second, but Hamzah follows through. A squeal rises from your lungs as you watch him bound over the fire and land on the other side, alone. He whips around as soon as his feet are planted, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Holy fuck!" He pats his unblemished swim shorts, as if he's expecting to be swallowed in flames. "Why didn't you go?!"

"I got scared!" you cry out, hopping from one foot to the other.

"C'mon, no backing out!"

"I hate this!" You reluctantly shuffle back to your spot at his encouragement. "I don't wanna!"

"Don't think, just run!"

Before you have a chance to deliberate your choice, you sprint alongside the footsteps in the sand and launch yourself over the fire. Shrieking with your eyes closed, you reach the other side and instantly topple into Hamzah's outstretched arms, sending the both of you to the ground.

When you open your eyes, you're on top of him. "You did it! We did—!"

You lean down and capture his lips in a kiss. He's shocked for a moment, his exclamation caught in his throat as your mouths connect. Then, his palms trail up the dips of your waist and he gently kisses you back. Adrenaline rushes through your veins and you tingle all over, from your head to your toes.

He flips the two of you over so his body engulfs yours, your hair splaying out across the sand. Your hands rest on his shoulders, fingers pressing into his skin, trying to grasp at him, grasp at the fact that this is real and you're actually kissing him. He breaks away momentarily.

"It." He breathlessly completes his sentence, exhaling a laugh against your lips before reconnecting your mouths with fervor.

Your tongue swipes at his bottom lip, about to deepen the kiss when you smell something off. You break it apart this time, but he continues to kiss a trail from your cheek to below your ear. When you look down between your chests, you are welcomed by the sight of the hair on his left calf burning up.

"Oh, shit!" you shout, pushing him off of you and rising to your feet.

His eyes drag down your body, then to his, and his eyes widen.

"Oh, shit!" he echoes.

You run over to Martin's towel to grab his abandoned bottle as Hamzah kicks his legs against the ground, trying to suffocate the fire. When you return, you hurriedly toss the water at his shins. You crouch to his level once the flames are extinguished and hold his leg up to see its devastation. His singed follicles crumble off his body, leaving the back of his calf bare and slightly pink with irritation.

"Um," you begin, breathing heavy. "Free hair removal?"

"Fuck," he pants. He scoots farther away from the bonfire and lays flat like a starfish. "That was scary."

You clamber down next to him, slightly delirious.

“We’re back!” Martin announces from afar, his arm around his girlfriend as they draw nearer. “What’d we miss?”

“Nothing.” You and Hamzah speak at the same time, earning weird looks from the couple.

“Okaaay.” Martin narrows his eyes. “Sure.”

“Are you guys good?” Mandy addresses both of you, but she’s looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Hamzah’s leg caught on fire,” you blurt out.

Martin cackles, but Mandy looks genuinely concerned. “How’d that even happen? As if one fire scare wasn’t enough.”

Her subtle jab restarts their bickering, freeing you from having to answer her question. You help Hamzah off the ground and the two of you dust yourselves off. The adrenaline and intoxication seem to wear off at once and you begin shivering from the cold. When you go to grab your measly coverup, Hamzah stops you.

“Here,” he says, handing you his shirt that was tossed aside his towel earlier in the day. “Put it on.”

“Thanks,” you mumble and pull the tee over your head. “What about you?”

He takes the coverup and slips it over his arms, the lace fitting taut against his skin. “It’s a good look, right?”

You grin, nodding.

The dark beach clears of vacationers as the four of you pack your things to head back to the hotel. The couple give each other silent treatment. You and Hamzah attempt to make the situation less awkward by cracking jokes, but it hardly helps. It seems all of you just need to go to your rooms and sleep it off. It’s been a loaded day.

You’re accompanied on your walk to your room by Hamzah, as per usual. You hold your belongings in one hand and his hand in the other.

“So,” he says, running his thumb over your skin.

“Sooo.”

“I guess my fear of rejection was for nothing.”

“You’re so naive.”

~

a/n: BOOM ROLL CREDITS. sorry for the holdup, college and writer’s block are kicking my ass!! lmk if u liked it and how u think this story should/will end ;)

[saintslewis]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

— drabble.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black fem!reader

summary: the sun shined on the man himself, the one to break records, the one to raise the golden trophy.

warnings: outfit links, cussing, loads of happy tears, suggestive themes.

saint’s team radio 🪩: lewis mf hamilton won his 104th so you knowwwwwww i had to do it. thank you all for 1k and this is just the start of the celebration. congratulations to my husband 🥳 tags down below! (i put nads in the header but shhhhh)

pls like, comment and reblog 💗

Tying your shoelaces, you stood up straight and looked at yourself in the mirror. Fidgeting around with your hair and jewellery, you took several breaths to calm yourself down.

The previous day, Lewis took p2 for qualifying. It’s a well known fact that Silverstone is his playground but anything could happen, this race could go any which way and that’s what scared you the most.

“Should I take a jacket?” You called out to Lewis who was in his closet, most likely picking out his jewellery. “It won’t get too cold but I’ll take one for you.” He spoke, stepping out of the closet in his red ensemble, donning different types of pearls this time around and his black timbs shining.

Your eyes fell to his silhouette in your peripheral view and you turned your head so that your gaze fell upon him. He looked good, his head was high as he strode into the room with a special aura around him. You were always someone who had faith in anything Lewis does on track, no matter the place he finishes the race in, often treating a P7 like a podium.

The past two and a half years have been incredibly tough on Lewis and his mental health, often bringing himself down in the expense of his team’s terrible strategies. Finding it hard to wake up each and every day with a pained smile on his face whenever he walked into any paddock around, he knew he had his family as his biggest cheerleaders. Including you. In your wedding vows, he acknowledged how eternally grateful he was for you even after all the hardships he endured.

“Are we seriously matching?” Your shoulders dropped once you realised you were both wearing red. “I don’t know, I find it cute.” He smiled, giving you a wink and a pat on the ass before walking out of the room. Shaking your head, you fixed up your appearance before reaching for your handbag and you were out of the house in the nick of time. Confirming the logistics of bringing Roscoe along, you hopped in the same SUV and headed off to the track.

SILVERSTONE CIRCUIT

You poorly underestimated the weather that Silverstone would bring but as your husband promised, you had a jacket around your shoulders since the weather was predicted to change during the race. As nervous as you were, you walked and spoke with pure confidence.

Ever since you stepped in the paddock, eyes never strayed from the Hamilton family, more than usual. You had brushed it off and stayed in the garage along with your in-laws, your arms were around Willow’s shoulders as the national anthem concluded and teams were ready to start the race.

“Hopefully we’ll hear that again.” Carmen smiled at you as she took her seat next to you. “I’m hoping for a trophy lift of some sort.” You returned the smile and placed Willow on your lap as you sat down.

Anthony had appeared on screen, standing by Lewis with a straight face while looking at his son fix his balaclava. Anyone with eyes knew the energy that exuded from the 5 second clip, that was Lewis’ dad knowing that his son was not going to finish lower than P4.

You had already given him good luck hugs and kisses but your hands were still shaking because you knew anything could happen. Your heart calmed when your eyes landed on the crowd across the track and how so many of them were there to cheer for Lewis. Seas of the neon yellow your husband donned were strategically positioned in front of his garage and you could feel the support from your seat.

From lap 20, you couldn’t sit still but you tried your best to keep your seat as he stayed within the top 4. The beast that was the w15 was swiftly moving across the track and never slid even when the rain appeared.

George’s car rolled in the car after it was announced that he would retire from the race and your heart slightly sank although it made you slightly happy. The drivers behind Lewis weren’t exactly kind when it came to fighting for the number one spot but they hadn’t raced against Lewis in a long time so they were messing up strategies left right and centre as Lewis drove.

He was reminding people who the fuck he was in real time.

By the time the McLarens and the singular Ferrari had pitted by lap 44, you knew Lewis had this win or at least second place but your husband doesn’t exist to be second. You stood from your seat and joined Anthony at the edge of the garage, your right hand on your chest as your breaths became quicker with your left hand on your hip.

Tears prickled your eyes as Lewis stayed the race leader and as lap 52 began, a tear of joy slid down your face with the pit team already climbing the fence right next to the finish line. The crowd’s cheers overpowered that of Mercedes’ garage as the sun shined on his car, the top of his helmet glowing.

“Oh my God!” You screamed, your hands flailing about as your father in law celebrated next to you and eventually brought you into a bear hug. A wave of different emotions came over you as you tried to catch your breath and you were able to compose yourself as cameras came rushing to the garage.

Walking with your in laws to parc femme, you watched Lewis park the car and wrap the flag around his shoulders, the crowd cheering even louder than before. He embraced his father and you could see his shoulders slightly bouncing and your heart was pounding at the thought of him crying under the helmet. Eventually prepping himself for his post-race interview, he ran over to where you stood with his family.

His eyes caught your tearful ones just after he let go of his mom’s face. The smile that spread across his face was pure joy and his eyes held so much warmth even though he was a few meters from you. He quickly strode to you and you opened your arms to lock around his neck.

“I’m so proud of you, my love. So proud.” Your voice shook as you moved to hold his face. “I love you.” He said, kissing your forehead and blinked away the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “I love you so much, thank you.” He repeated, squeezing your waist a little then let go of you. Before you could respond, Lewis sent back a smile as he had to continue the interviews.

The podium was as magical as the win itself, drops of the champagne landed on you as he sprayed the crowd but you didn’t mind. Anything to see him smile like he had on that podium.

-

“King of Silverstone, huh?” You smiled as you walked out of the bathroom clad in a silk robe with a surprise hidden underneath. Lewis looked up from his phone, his back against the headboard. Just like the morning before, his gaze fell on your body and he could not take his eyes off you.

He quickly glanced at the time, the digital clock reading 4 am and he thought you two would be utterly exhausted after his celebration party but you had proved him wrong. You sashayed onto the bed and sat next to him with your knees underneath you, his head following you throughout.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me.” Lewis spoke, itching to touch you as his eyes wandered to the cleavage your silk robe displayed as you sat close to your husband. “I’m so proud of you, my love. Never giving up and staying strong throughout everything you went through is admirable.” You praised, your hand at the back of his head with your nails lightly scratching his nape. Although you could tell he was not paying attention.

“Lewis?”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear anything I said?” You chuckled and his eyes finally connected with yours. “Uh…yeah.” He tried to give you an answer but his eyes were then glued on your glossy lips.

Smiling at your husband’s actions, you reached for the knot of the robe and slowly began untying it. “Since today is your day,” Sliding off the soft material of your shoulders, you continued. “You can do whatever you want to me.” Your words were soft yet seductive.

“Anything?” Lewis questioned.

“You deserve it, Sir.”

saint’s notes: i did NAWT mean to take this long with this, oh em gee. i hope you guys love it and yes, i’m still living off the high from July 7th 🫶🏽

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @non-stop-imagines @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @cocobutterqwueen @queenshikongo3 @saturnville @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @arshiyuh @motheroffae @henneseyhoe @shhhchriss

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | teaser (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol consumption, curses

☆word count: 1.1k

☆a/n: teaser time babyyyy!! I hope you guys love it :') thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

The hour is late. Jungkook is tipsy, far more than he thought he’d get tonight, but then again, Taehyung is not in a better state, and Sera, Jimin’s girlfriend, had to force him to go home before they got too drunk.

They’re all supposed to help Taehyung’s little sister move in tomorrow, Jungkook included.

“Man,” Taehyung lets out, and Jungkook looks away from the game of Smash they’re playing - that he’s majestically losing - to focus on Taehyung.

“What?” he lets out.

“Can’t believe Y/n will be here tomorrow,” Taehyung answers.

“Can’t believe you’re forcing me to live with a girl.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t worry, Y/n is chill.”

Jungkook doesn’t doubt she is, considering how well he gets along with Taehyung, and Taehyung’s made it seem that he gets along well with his sister. He imagines Y/n’s just going to be a mini Taehyung, which frankly could be fun to have around.

But he doesn’t know anything about her other than the fact that she is Taehyung’s little sister.

“You know,” Taehyung adds as the game finishes. “I meant to tell you something.”

Jungkook cocks his pierced eyebrow in question. “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say that if you touch my sister, you’re fucking dead.”

Jungkook bursts out laughing, shaking his head, but Taehyung remains entirely serious. Like he meant what he just said - could he?

“You’re joking right?” Jungkook asks as his laughter fades away.

“No, I’m dead ass,” Taehyung insists. “You breathe in her direction, and you’re dead.”

“Damn.” Jungkook widens his gaze, and then picks up the beer he’s been slowly drinking since Jimin left. “Understood.”

Hell, Jungkook knows that he sleeps around. Taehyung does the same - he can’t help but understand Taehyung when he says to stay away from his sister. And he thinks it’ll be easy. Y/n’s probably just going to be a clueless baby college kid, and though Jungkook doesn’t mind going for younger, he’ll have plenty of new faces to explore once Frosh week starts next week anyways.

So he promises Taehyung he has nothing to worry about, and they play a couple more games before they head to bed.

Jungkook wakes up early the next morning, the sun shining right in his face the most efficient alarm he’s ever used before. He wants to go to the gym before helping Taehyung’s sister, and though he hates being awake so early, he immediately forces himself to get up lest he falls back asleep.

His workout goes well, and he’s pleasantly sore when he heads back home. He’s lucky - he manages to park not too far from the apartment. He’s walking home, gym bag in one hand and his phone in the other, when Taehyung texts him to ask where he is.

Jungkook types ‘Fuck off’, pressing send as his attention is solely on his phone.

Until said phone flies out of his hand as he collides with a girl he didn’t notice, and Jungkook watches in horror as the device falls in a flower bed.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you say, and you immediately dive into the flower bed, retrieving Jungkook’s phone. 

You hand it to him, and Jungkook just stares at you, mouth agape. He’s aware he’s staring and that he probably looks stupid, but he’s dumbfounded.

You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot.

“Don’t worry about it,” he answers quickly when you cock an eyebrow, your cheeks slowly turning red. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“At least it didn’t break,” you say, and you flash him a quick smile.

It does things to his heart that Jungkook barely comprehends - it’s like his heart is going miles a minute, yet it’s soothing, warm, much like the pavement feels in the summer when the sun has just dipped below the horizon.

“Right, yeah,” Jungkook answers, and his cheeks burn.

His cheeks fucking burn, and he wishes he could just disappear, dive below the ground until you can’t see him anymore. You just keep on smiling, eyes never disconnecting from his, and he wonders if you, too, feel like he does.

Shit, he thinks he might even hear bells in the distance.

You glance away, and it’s like he’s falling forward while not moving at all, and all he can do is pathetically clear his throat, as if that’s going to offer any help.

“I see you’ve met Y/n!” Taehyung yells from behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook freezes, and then something burns in his lungs, like he’s under the surface struggling for futile oxygen he knows he won’t find.

You are… Taehyung’s sister.

You’re Y/n.

His best friend’s little sister.

The one thing Jungkook can’t have.

It makes him feel cold, his heart suddenly dropping in the Arctic sea amongst the icebergs. 

“We literally ran into each other,” you say, looking back towards your brother.

And Jungkook sees it - your hair is the same shade as Taehyung’s, your face has the same shape. The smile though - your smile is different from Taehyung’s, and maybe that’s why he was fooled.

Fooled for a few seconds which felt like an eternity.

You walk away then, heading to the open back door of a car. You grab a box, and Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket, eyeing a bag on the backseat.

“Do you want me to bring this in?” he asks.

Only because he wants you to look at him again. His heart flutters in his chest when you do, and he forces it down with a swallow as you nod once.

“Yes, please!”

Jungkook nods too, and he grabs the bag before following you in. His right foot lands on the first step leading to the apartment when Taehyung stops him with a hand on his arm.

Jungkook frowns slightly, meeting his best friend’s gaze.

“I’m serious, JK,” Taehyung says through gritted teeth. “You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”

And Jungkook knows right then and there that he’s fucked. Entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.

Because he already wants you, and he hasn’t even talked to you for more than twenty seconds.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures Taehyung, and he hopes Taehyung can’t hear how fake he sounds.

How is he supposed to resist indulging in you when he already knows you’re all he’s ever wanted? 

He really is entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.

☆☆☆☆☆

Read chapter one here!

What did we think? Are we excited to read?? Let me know here!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Taglist: (strike-through means dumblr isn't letting me tag you)

@jjkluver7 | @lavender2ari | @srslythis-ismylife | @starlight-1010 | @mggv97

@cookysstuff | @02010802 | @kookieleshgo | @biaswreckersinc | @hera19

@ice | @nightapple | @jungkussyficrecs | @boyfriendtaekook | @montyfbaybee

@babystarcandyjk97 | @goldentea10 | @lovingkoalaface | @parapiop7 | @parking-lotnights

@junecat18 | @blr1004 | @buddybops | @kookssecret | @busandbby_jjk

@superchamchi88 | @goldenjeonkoo | @raraluvz | @lovelye79 | @boyswithjun

@skzthinker | @michellekosmos | @8balljk | @kooklovee | @kingofbodyrolls

@ll4l | @kissyfacekoo | @ggukiepie | @moon-gyi | @apples0-0

@jcrl99 | @iammeandmeisiam | @kookoo-kachoo | @marvelbun | @lalaren

@sugas-baby-girl | @glossminmin03 | @kocoreads | @carriereadsbooks | @aiiselle90210

@FeyOcean | @khuderutu | @stuti2904 | @ziya.exe | @shortnspicier

@wiseboojumtree | @bobagukks | @vrusha01 | @lilyy07 | @younhakim29

@screamertannie | @wisebouquetbarbarian | @pixiekook | @nanjeonlangakook | @jcnggukie

@ggukkieland | @phanniefoo | @jksctrl | @sp1derk0ok | @hyukal0ml

@mysjammy | @lesiacapouille | @shearttttttttt | @hobibbb | @mochifuzz

@kooksbunnnn | @moonchilddna | @libra04 | @vminkookgf | @jayrielle27

@tulips4u | @jinniejax | @chimmisbae | @sumzysworld | @imene_ghd

@gguksflowers | @sadgirlroo | @kissme-ornot | @mar-lo | @kazkookiekazookie

@infiresyg93 | @junggukjeonfreakinwife | @sweet-pinee | @chimchimmarie | @pamzn

[vifilms]

ღ ELECTRAPLAYER ✶ SEVEN INCHES DEEP !

series masterlist collab series w/ the talented, sweet baby — @abbyscherry

tags. eighteen+, strap sex (abby!r), daddy kink, breeding kink, masc!reader but can be read by all, part of a series but can be read on it’s own.

you're gripping her hair like she's your favorite vice, cock stretching her pretty pussy, even prettier ass recoiling against you. toned back arched for you as she moans like a whore. only down side is you can't see the effect you're having on her pretty face. the moans abby continues to let out are enough to hold you over until you can see her sun-kissed skin cheeks again, hundreds of adorable freckles decorating her nose with the soft bend. the one you adore more than the stars in the sky. 

you’d been staring at her all night the day before, entranced with her beauty yet again. it’d just been the two of you, a starry skin, and her. the empty beer bottles kissing the plush grass had her singing, saying some stupid joke but caused you to have a belly laugh. incredibly loud, obnoxious even, but it makes her laugh even harder. 

the sun couldn’t hold their own against her shine. the brightest star you’ve ever known. the sick feeling comes back in moments like these, afraid of the unknown. what if it doesn’t work? nagging and deafening, the thought picks at your brain like zombies off a dead carcass. all of this could end in a moment, just like the rest but you try to believe otherwise when she does shine with blissful ignorance. 

you want to sit in it with her. 

sometimes, it’s hard to believe she’s just yours. there’s not a single soul but you to take care of her, praise her, worship her. every bit of her is for you, but tonight she’s stubborn. batting her eyelashes, give you fuck me eyes. the little brat knew it would work too. 

“is this what you wanted? fucking begging me all day to be fucked. texting me, calling me all day while i train, fuck, making me lose my focus.” you pull harder on her golden hair. a fist full of her hair, a whimpering slut — you can practically see the drool. “and sending me the video of your tits in the shower, slippery and soapy. low fucking blow.” 

“daddy, i just needed you. m’sorry, i—” you slap her ass, effectively shutting her up. well…her words only. abby moans instead, muffled by the sheets beneath her. “what? you’re fucking sorry? had to cut my day early because of you. what was so important it couldn’t wait?” 

“i don’t want to say. it’s really embarrassing.” she shyly remarks. 

“babygirl, i’m seven inches in your pussy. don’t think there should be any more secrets between us.” you slap her ass again and abby  knows what it means. 

better fess up or there’s much more painful punishments to come. 

honestly, abby ponders for a moment. almost taking them up on the offer but her need to cum far outweighs the bratty little devil resting on her shoulder. even if she hadn’t made the decision for herself, you would have gotten abby there. 

your pace increases, fucking her harder, faster. “talking back to me isn’t a smart move. you and i both know it.” you can hear just how wet she is; every thrust sends her closer and closer to what she craves. the pleasure is practically on her tongue. pink, raw lips pleading for the craving she can never satiate. not with you. 

the confession threatening to fall from her tongue, but she bites on it. rather taking the pinching in her mouth than admit she’s wrong. with anyone else, she’s always gotten her way. but with you, you effectively know how to shut her right the fuck up. 

“tell me what i want to hear. what’s in this pretty head angel? hm? does daddy need to fuck your harder? y’know i will.” without prompt, you start piston fucking into her, the flimsy headboard beating against the wall. her moans growing louder, heavier, sluttier. 

“f-fuck, daddy. shit, shit, shit.” abby can’t stop whining, her thighs shaking controllably, back arching ever further, if it was even possible. “please? fuck, i-, need you to spill, daddy. please need to be stuffed full of your cum.” without any buffer you’re pulling her hair so hard, abby’s back collides with your chest. 

your cock filling her up even deeper as you continue to fuck her. she almost pulls your hair out from the root, before her neck to bitting into your neck, sucking, before she lets her tongue soothe over the mark. 

it’s obvious, you’re so close to cumming. you can hardly stand and fuck, the base of the harness is rubbing against your clit. god, combined with abby’s moans. you’re close. 

“fuck yeah? wanna have my babies baby? want me knock you up? pump you full of cum until you just can’t fucking take anymore?” 

“please, god, daddy i-, i’m going to come. can i come? please? fuck, need to come all over your cock. please say yes. god, daddy?” 

the last words are a nail in her coffin. 

“c’mon babygirl. show me how much you want me to breed you. need to know how worthy you are of my cum. my babies. fucking show me how much of a dirty slut you are.” you press your lips on her ear, kissing it softly. “that's right. just for daddy."

hope you enjoyed! mwah mwah!

[threadbearsweater]

one warm day is all i really need | arthur morgan

When you find yourself taken in by a gang of outlaws, the last thing you expect is to grow sweet on one of them- and have the feelings reciprocated. Arthur Morgan doesn't have time for romantic nonsense, but a few memebers of the gang want to make sure that he gets to indulge in his obvious affection toward you. Tags: 3.9k words, an unlikely romance, meddling gang members (with the purest of intentions, one might suppose); female reader, alcohol use, smoking, emotional smut. A repost from a (regretfully) deactivated blog.

Arthur first notices your eyes on him one evening around the campfire at Shady Belle. He won’t accuse you of staring– Lord knows he’s been known to look at you with the same foolish grin you’re wearing now– but he tips his hat to acknowledge you. The heat in your cheeks is suddenly warmer than what the fire has already provided; your grin only grows until your teeth are showing, and you duck your head into your shoulder to hide. Arthur takes a long swig from his whiskey bottle and grimaces as it goes down. He hasn't had a drop of anything in days, and the burn takes a little while to grow numb to now.

“Think she's sweet on you, Morgan,” Sean says in his Irish lilt, giving Arthur an elbow in the ribs.

“Naw, she's lookin’ at you,” Arthur deflects, though he hopes he's wrong. He thinks he knows.

“She told me last week to keep my eyes on my own work,” Sean continues. “I really don't think it's me she wants, Arthur.”

You turn to whisper something to Sadie, who laughs out loud with her face tilted toward the stars. You dare a glance back at Arthur, who is, in fact, looking at you.

Maybe there's some truth to what Mary Beth told you yesterday.

“Arthur's been awful quiet lately.”

The sun shines through the trees and dapples the table where you're seated with bright spots of pale yellow. It's your third round of dominoes with Mary-Beth, and she's whooping your ass, as usual. You don't know how she does it, but each game you play, you're a little more privy to her prowess.

“You think so? I don't know him as well as you.” You hope it isn't obvious that your heart started beating a little faster at the mention of his name. It leaves you breathless.

“Oh yeah,” Mary-Beth continues. “He's been scratchin’ away in that journal of his a lot more, too.” She leans closer, conspiratorial, her eyes twinkling with the gossip she's about to share. “Karen said he went to town twice last week to have a hot bath. If you knew Arthur like I know Arthur, why…you'd know that's highly out of character for him.”

“But you said he'd been quiet. Is that unusual for him, too?”

She hums and purses her lips. “Well you see, Arthur isn't usually a man of many words on a good day. But it's been real bad lately. He don't even give John a hard time like usual.”

You ponder the dominoes for a moment and then make your move. It doesn't earn you any points, but at least you didn't have to draw. “What do you think the problem is?” you ask, nonchalant as possible.

Mary-Beth smiles. Big and bright and sparkling. “Oh, it's not a problem at all.” She lowers her voice and cups her hand to her mouth. “Arthur's in love.”

You gasp, then giggle behind your hand, and Mary-Beth follows suit. Hosea looks on and shakes his head, so you quiet down, reaching across to grab Mary-Beth's hands. “Who do you think it is?”

Her cheeks are tinted pink, and she looks around to make sure there aren't any ears to hear. Word travels fast around camp if one isn't prudent. “I think it's you.”

A thunderstorm rips through Shady Belle a little over a week later. Your little tent that you share with Sadie is ripped straight off its supports in a terrible gust of wind, and you and the others hightail it inside the house to take cover just as it begins to hail. There's quite a ruckus as everyone huddles inside, windblown and rain-soaked. A few of the men hold up lanterns to illuminate the darkness while you watch the lightning and feel the thunder shake the old bones of the house.

“Everyone just calm down,” Dutch calls, descending the stairs, wearing some ridiculous robe with his arms spread wide. “Are we really gonna let a little old thunderstorm keep us from getting a good night's sleep?”

“Says the man with a bed inside the house,” Arthur bites, rounding the corner from what used to be the kitchen, holding a lantern up high in front of him. “Dutch, you better allow these ladies to take cover in here for tonight, or I'll–”

“Or you'll what, Mister Morgan? Pray tell, what kind of man do you take me for?” Dutch's eyes are fiery as he stares Arthur down; a display of dominance. A veritable cockfight.

Arthur's jaw twitches, but he doesn't back down. “The kind of man I should hope would have some goddamn respect for his family.”

There's a tense moment or two where everyone is quiet, then Dutch relents. “Fine, fine! But I expect everyone out there pitching in to clean up in the morning.” He points at Arthur and raises his voice again. “That includes the other man with a bed inside the house,” he sneers.

Arthur shakes his head, then looks away only to catch sight of you, shivering in your wet undergarments, huddled close to Mary-Beth for what little warmth the two of you can share. For a minute, he forgets to breathe, then composes himself enough to cross the room.

“Come on in here. Get yourself warm and dry by the fire.” His hand on your elbow is rough but warm as he leads you toward the fireplace. You nod and look back at Mary-Beth, who shoos you away with a flick of her wrist and a wink; you notice that her teeth are chattering. Despite the humidity that hangs heavy in the air, the temperature has turned chilly with the storm.

Arms crossed over your bosom to preserve any shred of modesty you might have left, you allow yourself to be led away by Arthur. Dutch and some of the others head upstairs while Charles and Javier keep watch from the front porch.

“You alright?” Arthur asks. He covers your shoulders with one of his heavy winter coats, and you pull it around you, grateful for the weight and warmth of it. Another clap of thunder shakes the house and you jump. Arthur chuckles.

“You laughin’ at me?” you quip, placing your palms flat in the direction of the fireplace. You don't even bother to hide the grin you feel curling on your lips.

“No madam, I am not,” Arthur says earnestly, taking a seat beside you on the old wooden crate he's set up as a makeshift bench.

“Then just what do you find so funny, Mister Morgan?”

He scratches the back of his neck, looking into the flames. “Aw, I dunno. I'm sorry. It's just that you're…”

You bump him with your hip, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up from your chest. “I'm what?” you pry.

There's a clatter of something falling on the front porch, and Arthur uses it as a good excuse to get out of this hole he's dug for himself. “I better go see what's going on out there. Charles might need my help.”

“I'm what, Arthur?!” you call, to no avail. He's gone before he can see the proverbial hearts in your eyes.

The saloon in Rhodes is a little nicer than the ones you visited in Valentine, though it's a far cry from the ones you used to frequent in Saint Denis. Still, when Sadie and the other girls decide that it's high time you have a little fun in town, you throw on your best dress and let Karen curl your hair and even apply a little of the makeup you snagged from a homestead up north. For the first time in months, you feel like a proper woman. There isn't time to be melancholy about the past, though, when the boys start whistling and cat-calling upon the sight of you and the other girls.

“Aw, knock it off!” Sadie hollers. She's decided to dress up a little tonight, too, much to everyone's surprise. But she hikes up her skirts to hop into the wagon, calling for the rest of you all to hurry it up. “I've got a bottle of rum with my name on it that's waiting for me to come drink her all down!”

You catch the sunset on the way to town. It's dazzling over the meadows, all golden light and warm, blazing oranges and reds that settle into a brilliant pink by the time your reach the main road into Rhodes. You wish you could see Arthur's eyes, but he's got a handle on the reins next to Charles in the front of the wagon. You've seen him watching the sunset before; he always looks so peaceful those evenings at camp, and you often wonder what he thinks about in those few minutes before the horizon is painted in pastel hues.

Karen starts singing a song that everyone eventually joins, and before you know it, you're pulling up in front of the Rhodes Parlour House. You can already hear the piano and a few voices from outside; the sound of it stirs something in your soul that makes you long for the familiarity of home, but you quickly shove it aside in favor of the company of your new family.

“Madam.” Arthur's voice brings you out of your thoughts and back into the present, where he waits at the back of the wagon with his hand extended to you. You beam at him, and he feels dizzy. And when your soft hand fits into his, he straightens his knees so they don't buckle and betray him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirts to step out onto the dirt road.

Arthur leans in, dangerously close to your ear. You can smell the whisky and cigarettes on his breath, along with the faint tang of gunpowder and hair pomade. “You sure do look nice in that dress.”

You demure and fan yourself with your hand. “Just how much have you had to drink already tonight?” you giggle.

“Ahh, just a little nip to take the edge off.”

“Mm-hm. Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say.”

The night starts off relatively calm, as most nights do. You and the other girls find an empty table to sit and pick up on the town gossip, and the men start a hand of poker. It grows loud and crowded sometime around midnight, and it's hard to have a conversation without shouting over the din of voices, the clink of glass bottles, and the slow drag ragtime music from the piano. The ambiance is charming and lighthearted, and there are even a few couples drunkenly dancing on the porch.

You push back in your chair and find that when you stand, you're a little more wobbly than you thought you would be. The alcohol has loosened you more than you realize, and you grip the table for support until you feel a firm arm around your waist. “Whoa there.”

It's Arthur, who has won the last round of poker and has come to check in on you and the other ladies. You're pulled tight against his chest for one fleeting moment, and you look up into his eyes. He, too, seems drunk, with his eyes gleaming and drooping at the corners, his smile easy and his cheeks flushed.

“My knight in shining armor,” you slur, pretending to faint in his embrace. He only pulls you tighter against him, both of his broad hands splayed across your back. You laugh, and he smiles.

“You weren't getting another drink, were ya?” he questions with a raise of his brow.

“‘m thirsty,” you whine, lifting your empty glass entirely too close to his face. It knocks against his nose, which sends you into another fit of laughter.

Arthur takes your wrist– gentle but firm– and lowers the glass away. “Think you need to drink something that's not whiskey,” he drawls. You can't help but watch the way his lips form around the words; the slip of his tongue between his teeth, the way his mouth turns up into the hint of a smile when you pout. Before you can think too long and hard about it, you lunge forward and kiss him. Hard and clumsy and impulsive. You don't give him time to react. You're far too involved in the kiss to notice, but the girls at the table behind you have all gone silent. Arthur slides his hand along the side of your face and presses his fingers upon the nape of your neck, kissing you back like he really means it. (He really does.)

You pull back suddenly, breathless and reeling, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You're still held firm in his embrace, but the playfulness in his gaze has been replaced with an intensity that makes your knees weak all over again.

“What'd ya do that for?” he asks.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, you started it.”

“And you finished it.”

“Oh, I ain't finished with you, yet.”

“That a promise or a threat?” Your pulse is thumping wildly in your ears.

“Ya know, they got rooms upstairs for that!” Sadie shouts. There's a ripple of laughter across the table. Arthur's hand on your cheek feels like a brand, his arm about your waist an anchor. The rest of the room comes back to you in a woozy blur, and you look around, a little lovestruck and a whole lot drunk. Arthur's lips at your temple make your eyes flutter shut, and the room fades to black as tIt'weight of you slumps against him. He staggers only slightly, but holds you firm, chuckling softly.

“It's a promise,” he whispers.

You come to some hours later. Your mouth is dry as the desert, your head feels like lead, your skin broken out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. At some point, it seems you were covered with a downy soft blanket, and the pillow at your head is much more fluffy than the makeshift one you made out of a bedroll at camp. At first, you think you're dreaming. Then, you wonder very briefly if you're back at your childhood home in Saint Denis. You almost call out to your mother when you hear a soft snore from the other side of your bed.

The room spins when you turn your head, and you rub your eyes until Arthur comes into focus. He's sprawled in an armchair a few feet away. His arms are crossed over his chest while his chin is tucked into his chest. Off to the side, you spy his boots; his big toe pokes through a hole in his sock and you smile at how vulnerable he looks.

“Arthur,” you whisper, shifting slightly as you pull the blanket up around your chin.

He grunts and lifts his head slowly. He frowns a little at first, but when he focuses on you lying there, so close he could reach out and kiss you again like he did last night, there's a slow, easy smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey there, party girl. You feeling alright?”

You could kick yourself for all the giggling you've done around him lately, but you can't help it. He brings out something giddy and downright foolish inside you, so you toss a pillow at him and bury your face in the sheets.

“Aw, come on now. I'm just messin’ with ya.” He leans forward and rubs your head affectionately. “I'd say you were feeling pretty good last night.”

It's in that moment a white-hot jolt of sheer panic shoots down your spine. Quickly, you check to make sure you're still wearing clothes. Aside from your breasts being a little lopsided in the confines of your bodice, you're relieved to find that your dress is still intact and– more importantly– on your body. You dare another peek at Arthur and notice that his shirt is unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest and he's discarded his vest somewhere, but he, too, is fully clothed. Thank the good Lord above.

You must've said that last part aloud, because Arthur laughs. “Don't worry, nothing happened. Though it weren't for lack of tryin’ on your part,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought I was gonna have to lock you in here like some feral cat till you settled down.”

Oh. Oh Lord. You try to recall what happened that led you to this room, but all that comes to mind is a lot of loud conversation, some dancing, a spilled drink across Sadie's lap, and Arthur's hand on the side of your cheek. “Oh…”

Now you remember it in vivid detail.

“Didn't know you cared for me like that,” he says. It's earnest and tender, a few shades less intense than the kiss you now recall, the one where it felt like he wanted to eat you alive right there in the middle of the saloon. Now, he thumbs your cheek and looks at you so fondly you swear your heart jumps right up in your throat. “I mean, I'd been hoping. Wasn't sure you was looking for a romance.” He huffs a short sigh, frustrated with himself. “Aw, hell, what am I saying? ‘Course you weren't. You're just looking to survive, just like the rest of us, and here I–”

“Shut up,” you say, taking hold of his hand and tugging him closer. He resists until you pull even harder, watching the fire in your eyes blaze to life. “You talk too much, Yankee.”

“I ain't no damn–”

“Kiss me.”

He's over you in an instant; you're pressed flat against the bed, completely and totally at his mercy. This kiss feels different than the drunken one last night. It's sober and honest, if not a little hesitant, as if he's holding himself back from devouring you wholly. The warmth of his body against yours takes your breath away. Or maybe it's the way his tongue laves heavy into your mouth, unashamed of how badly he craves the taste of you. You grip his hair at the roots and tug him down to kiss him harder, lifting your upper body to meet him until he presses down, his chest flush with yours.

Things get heated quickly.

His mouth moves across your cheek, down your neck, and he groans against your skin, rutting his cock against your thigh. You fleetingly wish that he had managed to get you out of that dress before he presumably tucked you into bed and passed out in that chair, because there’s a whole lot of fabric between you and him that really pisses you off right now. Arthur must feel much the same, because he’s bunching your skirts up past your knees while you’re fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him against you, inside you. It’s clumsy and crazed, rushed and rough, but you manage somehow to shuck off every last bit of your clothes and his until you’re breathless and so, so eager beneath him.

“Need you now,” you whine. You feel insane. Dizzy and dehydrated, impossibly turned on, every nerve ending on fire when his callused hands grip the fat of your thighs and open you to him.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” One of his hands slips between your legs to find you wet and swollen. He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and pushes a finger inside you; the sound you make nearly has him finishing there on the sheets, so he wastes no time in getting himself as close to you as humanly possible.

“Never wanted something so bad,” he murmurs into the dip of your shoulder. He wants all of you– all at once– wants to fuse his hands against your skin and sink himself into you so deep that it would be impossible to tell where he ends and you begin. The heat from his body takes away what little breath you have left, his mouth on each part of your body building the buzz in your chest until you feel like you might just burst open. You grabbed at each other like it was the first and last time you might have this opportunity, as if you wanted more than what the other of you was able to give.

Considering the kind of life you’ve both led so far, it’s a good possibility that you might never get to do this again.

“Give it to me,” you plead, opening yourself further to him, fingers wrapped firm around the base of his cock. “Please.”

Arthur Morgan is a man of incredible strength and self restraint, except when it comes to a woman like you.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. It’s primal, sweaty, filthy, rough. Arthur pushes as far inside you as he can go, then pushes further when you beg for more. He cups your knees with slick palms and presses you open as far as you can bend; you tug roughly at his hair and bite down on his shoulder when the pleasure builds to a blinding ferocity. The wooden bedframe knocks angrily against the wall with each thrust, but you can’t bring yourself to care if anyone hears. You can’t focus on anything beyond the feeling of him filling you with every stroke of his cock, of the taut, corded muscle in his back and shoulders as you grapple to hang on as tight as you can. Your orgasm hits your hard and fast, and he encourages you through it, taking his time to give you long, controlled strokes. It’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you. “‘Atta girl,” he rasps, lips moving against your ear. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries, but he pulls it away and threads his fingers with yours, pressing it onto the pillow. “I wanna hear it.”

Your moans are what drive him over the edge.

He buries his face against the side of your neck, panting heavily as he comes, driving into you so hard that you can almost feel the mattress beneath you begin to sag under the weight. You cradle his head in your hands and link your legs around his waist, boneless and languid in the aftermath of your own pleasure. When he moves, you move with him, riding out the waves together until you’re both too tired to move another muscle.

Neither of you speak for a while. He lies on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you curl against him, tuned into his heartbeat and swirling little patterns into the hair on his chest. It’s comforting to feel him next to you, to watch his chest rise and fall as he steadies his breathing, to soak up the warmth of his skin against yours.

You’re the first to break the silence. “Did everyone else go back to camp last night?”

Arthur nods slowly. “Something tells me they planned all this.”

“Planned it? You mean…” You lift your arm slowly and flick your wrist to acknowledge the room you’re laying in. “This?” You lift your chin and grin at him. “Or getting us together?”

“Room was paid for before I even had a chance to ask if they had one,” he explains. “Think it was Mrs. Adler.”

You vaguely recall her shouting something about a room after you kissed Arthur last night, and you shake your head. “You complaining?”

He turns to his side, draping an arm across your hip. “Me? Never.” You’re suddenly pressed beneath him once again; from the looks of it, you won’t be getting out of this bed anytime soon. “Specially when I’ve got you here to help me keep warm.”

[cameronspecial]

Need the rafe and reader locked up in a room 🙏

Don't Stain The Carpet

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Heated Make Out

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

Topper and Kece were sick of the fighting. It was happening all day, every day now and they just wanted it to stop. They might even prefer the days when the two would be caught in a heated makeout session instead of an argument. So, they devised a plan to get the exes on a more cordial playing field. “Dude, I don’t know what’s wrong with it. One moment it’s running fine. The next, it won’t start,” Topper complains, leading Rafe down to the basement. The other boy grumbles, “Yeah, yeah. Just show me where your laptop is. I don’t know why you called me for it. I’m not fucking IT support.” Topper throws him a sheepish smile over his shoulder. “But you are good with computers.” Rafe rolls his eyes, “Stop being a kiss ass. I’m already here.” 

Once at the bottom of the stairs, Topper shuts up and steps out of the way so Rafe can pass through first. The tall man thinks nothing of it and enters the finished basement; however, when he is face to face with his ex-girlfriend, suspicion overcomes him. It is too late though because as he turns to leave the room and ream Topper out for this setup, the door is locked behind him. He rushes to the door, trying to open it even though he knows it is locked. “Topper, you little shit. Open this door.” He is met with silence, so he steps away from it and turns toward Y/N. “What are you doing here?” he questions. 

She rolls her eyes, “Top said he needed help picking out a gift for his mom. Why are you here?” They both know they have been lied to. It’s obviously from the fact that a laptop isn’t in sight and two separate reasons as to why they are there. 

He glares at her. “Oh, you know, Top said I could meet the Queen of England so I thought wow, I gotta get there. Why does it fucking matter? It was a lie.” She scoffs, “See, that. That is why I broke up with you.” He chuckles and runs his hands through his hair. “One. The breakup was mutual. Two. What. What is the reason you ‘broke up’ with me.” She holds out her hand and motions up and down, “Because you are an ass. That’s why. You only care for yourself and that’s it.” 

“Oh, please. We both know that isn’t fucking true.” 

“Right, sorry. I forgot about drugs and alcohol. Those might be pretty high up your list.” 

“STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH!”

His yell has her flinching back and he takes a deep breath while running his hand down his face “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” Her arms cross and she stands straighter. “You shouldn’t have,” she chastises. “Look, just because we are locked in here together doesn’t mean we have to talk to each other. I’ll go see if a call can get through. I mean we really should’ve seen this coming. His basement doesn’t get any signals.” 

With her final mutterance, she storms away from him. Her back hits against the wall and she slides down it. He observes as she pulls her phone out, hearing the familiar music of the cat game she enjoys playing sounds through the room. He smiles at the memory of her turning onto her stomach after an eventful night of love-making to play the game. He would always make fun of her and then rest his chin on her shoulder to watch her play over her shoulder. She used to get so excited when she would find the cat she was looking for. A crease in her forehead forms and he laughs. The noise has her staring at him over her phone. “What?” His hand extends toward her hand, “Didn’t get the cat you wanted?” her gaze flicks down to her phone with a frown. God, she hates how much he knows her. “Yes,” she whispers, slouching in embarrassment. 

Silence occurs on them. He shuffles over to the couch and decides to stroll down memory lane. His thumb swipes through the pictures. Her smile is so bright in this one and the sun hits her just right so it adds an extra shine to her eyes. He should’ve deleted all their pictures together when they broke up but he couldn’t bring himself to delete them. So he hid them away in a folder and promised to never look at them again. He hates that a distance has grown between them. He has to fix it.

“The only thing I ever cared about other than myself is you,” he mumbles. “Hmm,” she sounds out, not looking up from her phone. He clears his throat, “I cared- I mean I still care about you. Maybe even more than I care about myself.” He takes a second to think about it. “Actually. I definitely care about you more than myself.” The tone shifts in her room and she puts her phone down. He heads over to her, settling on the floor beside her. She looks him in the eyes and her vision has blurred. “Then why weren’t you there? You promised you would be after all the other things you skipped. The worst thing was that you wouldn’t tell me where you were.” He bites the corner of his lip and reaches into his pocket for his keys. He grows through his keys and holds them out to her, “I was out getting this. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” She takes the key ring into her hands and a shiny diamond stares back at her. “You were buying me a ring,” she murmurs. He nods, “I wanted to marry you and I know that this wouldn’t have made up for all the other things I missed, but I was hoping it would show you that I was committed to being with you.”

Everything she has felt for him for as long as she has known him comes cropping up and she takes a chance. “Do you still want to marry me?” she questions. His hand rests on her cheek, “More than anything else in the world.” She grins at him with tears leaking out of her eyes. “Then let's get married.” She presses their lips together and swings her leg over him. His fingers lace through her hair, pulling her in closer than possible. As she begins to grind down into him, a loud crash comes from behind him. “I wanted this to work. However, I didn’t want this to work this well,” Topper gripes. Rafe’s eyes narrow at him. “Get out,” Rafe growls at Kelce and Topper, who are standing in the doorway with wide eyes. Kelce and Topper look at each other with a nod. Topper grabs the doorknob and pulls the door closed. “Don’t stain the carpet!” Topper’s voice pleads through the door, causing the newly reunited couple to laugh together.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld