#and then she does. in bed. enthusiastically. for like hours.

[peeweehermanshow]

Fairly sure the person you were trying to blast earlier on is both queer and kinky, so what's your problem. In the last few hours two people (if not more) have taken the time to give you enthusiastic, informed, and thoughtful responses on queerness and kink, so idk what your problem is? Esp since the first one was both queer and kinky. They literally said nothing wrong? And you said to someone to kill themselves? Seriously? That's a whole person, and you'd say that to their face? Anyway, do better. You're embarassing yourself, and making the world a worse place. holy shit. the most ick energy. get a grip and grow up

Carny is a 1980 American drama film about a waitress who joins a traveling carnival. It stars Gary Busey, Jodie Foster, and Robbie Robertson. It also includes an early role for Fred Ward.

Frankie and Patch are friends who work for the Great American Carnival, a small-time carnival that tours the South. Frankie does an act as The Mighty Bozo, a character who sits in a dunk tank insulting the crowd, while Patch takes the money and runs the game. Patch is also the show's "adjuster," hence his carny name, working with the owner of the carnival, Heavy St. John, negotiating deals with local officials and representatives of the local underworld to keep the show open.

What it takes to keep the show open varies from town to town. In one town, it is making good on a city official's gambling losses on the midway and giving a city councilor a pile of free passes to the carnival. In another, it is compromising to allow the strippers to work, but keeping the freak show closed. In a third, it involves providing an underworld boss's thug with a girl he fancies. He also works to maintain harmony among the carnies. Patch is good at his job of patching together the deals that keep the carnival rolling and keeping the peace on the lot, but never likes being played for a fool.

At one stand, Donna, an independent 18-year-old bored with small-town life, strikes up a friendship with Frankie and at his invitation follows the carny onto the carnival circuit. Patch is less than happy with her presence, and would like her out of the picture. To get Patch off her back, she takes a job with the strip show as a "side girl," a backup dancer who does not actually take her clothes off. Patch plants the suggestion with Delno, the carny who runs the girlie show, that Donna wants to "work strong", i.e., be a stripper. When she is thrust onstage, she freezes and a brawl ensues. Afterwards, she covers with Heavy to keep Patch out of it, taking the blame for Patch's setting her up to fail.

Frankie gets her a job in the string joint, one of the midway games of chance, under the tutelage of Gerta. Coached in how the game works, Donna is a big success, learning how to con the marks and get their money without giving herself to them (which is what the rubes really want). After one successful scam, she winds up in bed with Patch and the two of them are caught by Frankie, which puts a strain on his relationships with both Donna and Patch.

While this is going on, a con run by Nails on Skeet, the local crime boss's main enforcer, goes badly wrong. Upset at losing their money, the local underworld's muscle boys wreck the Bozo Joint and kill On-Your-Mark, a carny who has been "with it" for more than fifty years and was planning to retire at the end of the season. Crime boss Marvin Dill comes after the carnival, intending to extort more money than they have already paid him. However, the carnies have had enough of his shaking them down. To avenge On-Your-Mark's death and get Dill off their backs, Patch, Frankie, Donna and Heavy run a scam on Mr. Dill involving the apparent beheading of Skeet.

The movie ends with the Great American Carnival continuing on its way, with Donna her own woman rather than Frankie's girlfriend, Frankie and Patch reconciled, and the implication that in a season or two Heavy will retire and Patch will be the one running the show.

[waitineedaname]

Oh are we sending in Lesbian BingYuan prompts? How about that vampire AU but Shen Yuan has to hide Binghe under a table because Yue Qingyuan cane to visit so Binghe is just there playing with Shen Yuan under the table while Shen Yuan is DESPERATELY trying to get Yue Qingyuan to leave.

AH!!!!! sqq is like im sorry shixiong i haven't gotten any leads on vampires in the area i'll have to get back to you later, and binghe fucking Bites her right on the thigh. she's doing the horny grip except her grip is in binghe's hair which does NOT help, binghe just takes that as encouragement

[nekoashiii]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ Get out!

Pairings: Lads men x afab!reader

Summary: Your 4 year old child, is fighting with their dad over you. part 2

If you enjoyed this, check this post out too!

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ sylus

The sun had barely crept over the horizon when a small, warm weight landed on your stomach. You let out a soft groan, blinking sleep from your eyes as a tiny giggle filled the air.

“Mama! Wake up!”

A little girl with curly white hair and big red eyes beamed down at you, her chubby cheeks flushed with excitement. Your daughter, Elena, was already full of energy despite the early hour.

You reached out, gently tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Sweetheart, it’s too early… come cuddle with us instead.” You said as you hugged your daughter to your chest and laid on your side, using her like a small warm plushie to hold

Elena pouted, but before she could argue, a deep, gravelly voice interrupted.

“Excuse me, little one,” Sylus drawled from behind you, his arm tightening possessively around your waist. “I believe your mother is mine in the mornings.”

Elena huffed, climbing over you to plant herself between the two of you, effectively shoving Sylus away. “No! Mama is mine today.”

Sylus narrowed his dark red eyes, feigning insult. “Oh? And what am I supposed to do, hmm? Spend the morning alone?” He sighed dramatically, running a hand through his white, tousled hair. “How tragic.”

You smothered a laugh as Elena folded her arms, her tiny frame full of defiance. “You have all day with Mama. It’s my turn now! Get out of bed dada”

Sylus turned to you, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Sweetheart, tell our dear daughter that monopolizing her mother isn’t allowed.”

You stretched with a soft yawn, brushing your fingers through Elena’s soft curls before placing a hand on Sylus’ chest. “Sorry, love, but she does have a point.”

Sylus let out an exaggerated groan, flopping onto his back. “Betrayed. By my own wife and child.”

Elena giggled and latched onto your arm. “Come on, Mama! Let’s go make pancakes!”

Before you could even respond, she was already tugging you out of bed. You barely had time to throw on a robe before being dragged toward the kitchen.

Sylus followed at a much slower pace, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorway, watching the two of you. His lips twitched in amusement as Elena enthusiastically handed you ingredients, most of which you didn’t even need.

“Flour, eggs, milk,” you listed off, cracking an egg into the bowl.

“And chocolate chips!” Elena added excitedly.

“That wasn’t part of the original plan,” you teased, ruffling her hair.

“But Mama, chocolate makes everything better,” she argued.

You sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. Chocolate it is.”

Elena cheered as you mixed the batter, and soon enough, the scent of warm pancakes filled the kitchen. You plated them neatly, setting them on the table, but before you could sit down, Sylus was already pulling you into his lap.

“Alright, little one,” he said, smirking at Elena. “I was patient. Now it’s my turn.”

Elena gasped. “No fair! You get Mama all the time!”

Sylus held you close, his lips brushing against your temple. “Exactly. Which is why I should get the first bite.”

Elena narrowed her eyes before suddenly grabbing a piece of pancake and stuffing it into your mouth. “Mama gets first bite!”

You nearly choked, laughing as Sylus sighed in mock defeat.

The morning continued like this, the two of them constantly bickering over who got more of your attention. If Sylus wrapped an arm around you, Elena would climb onto your lap. If Elena got you to braid her hair, Sylus would find a way to pull you into a slow, lingering kiss—only for Elena to dramatically cover her eyes and shout, “Eww, Papa!”

It was an endless tug-of-war, but one thing was clear: you were deeply, endlessly loved.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ Caleb

The day had been long. Between running errands, cleaning up after a particularly chaotic dinner, and making sure your 4-year-old son had actually bathed instead of just splashing water everywhere, all you wanted was to crawl into bed and melt into your pillows.

But, of course, fate—or rather, the two most stubborn males in your life—had other plans.

Just as you pulled back the covers, ready to slide under the sheets, a little whirlwind of energy burst into the room. Your son, Noah, padded in with a determined expression, his favorite stuffed apple plush clutched in one arm.

“I’m sleeping with Mama tonight!” he declared, climbing onto the bed as if he owned it.

You sighed, already sensing the inevitable battle brewing.

“Noah,” you started patiently, “you have your own bed, sweetheart.”

“But I don’t want my own bed,” he pouted, scooting closer. “I wanna sleep here with you.”

Before you could formulate a response, heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, and in walked Caleb, still in his colonel uniform, just back from the fleet, arms crossed over his broad chest. His sharp eyes immediately zeroed in on the intruder in his domain.

“Noah,” Caleb said, voice edged with authority. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Noah puffed out his little chest, glaring up at his father. “I’m sleeping with Mama.”

Caleb raised a brow. “No, you’re not. I sleep with Mama.”

“Well, not tonight.”

“Yes, tonight.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Are you two seriously about to argue over this?”

Neither of them responded. Instead, they were locked in a silent battle of wills, Caleb towering over Noah, while Noah, unafraid, jutted his chin out defiantly.

“I got here first,” Noah announced.

“I’ve been here for years,” Caleb countered, placing a knee on the bed as if preparing for battle.

Noah tightened his grip on his stuffed apple plush. “Mama likes cuddling with me more!”

“Excuse me?” Caleb scoffed. “I am a very good cuddler. The best.”

“No, you’re too big! You take up all the space!”

“I do not—”

“You do! And you snore!”

Caleb looked personally offended. “I do not snore.”

“Yes, you do,” you cut in, unable to hold back your smirk.

Caleb’s mouth fell open, betrayal clear on his face. “Sweetheart—”

“It’s true, Daddy,” Noah added smugly. “You sound like a big grumpy bear.”

Caleb scowled. “I am a big grumpy bear.”

“I don’t wanna sleep with a grumpy bear.”

“I don’t wanna sleep with a tiny bed hog.”

Noah gasped dramatically. “I am not a bed hog!”

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. watching the two go on and on “Alright, enough.”

Both of them snapped their heads toward you, watching as you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration.

“You two fight over me every single night. And honestly?” You sighed, dragging yourself out of bed. “I’m sick of it.”

Caleb and Noah blinked.

“What?” Noah asked innocently.

You grabbed two pillows from the bed, shoving one into Caleb’s hands and the other into Noah’s tiny arms.

“You two can take this argument somewhere else.” You gestured toward the door. “Both of you—out.”

Noah’s jaw dropped. “But—”

Caleb furrowed his brows. “You’re kicking me out, too?”

“Yes. Out. Both of you.”

“But Mama—”

“No buts! I am going to sleep alone, in peace, without a four-year-old climbing all over me or a six-foot colonel trying to wrap himself around me like an octopus.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Go fight over who gets the couch.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sleeping on the couch.”

Noah smirked. “Guess I’ll get the couch, then.”

“Oh no, you won’t,” Caleb shot back.

You sighed and physically pushed both of them toward the door. “Out.”

Noah whimpered. “Mama, wait—”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” You kissed his forehead before turning to Caleb. “And you—” You gave him a pointed glare. “Good. Night.”

Caleb exhaled through his nose, clearly displeased with the outcome. “This is mutiny.”

“Call it whatever you want, Colonel, but it’s happening.”

With that, you shut the door in their faces.

For a moment, there was silence. Then—

“This is your fault,” Caleb muttered.

“I still get the couch,” Noah replied smugly.

You grinned, sinking into your blissfully empty bed, enjoying the first real night of uninterrupted sleep in weeks.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ Rafayel

Life with Rafayel was never dull. Being married to one of the most renowned artists in the world came with its own set of challenges—his erratic work schedule, his bursts of inspiration at ungodly hours, and, of course, the ever-looming threat of someone discovering his biggest secret.

Rafayel wasn’t just a celebrated painter, sculptor, and occasional recluse. he was also a Lemurian—a species of deep-sea mermen that most humans believed to be myths. Lemurians were creatures of the ocean, rarely venturing into the human world.

But Rafayel had. He had chosen to leave behind the waves, to live among humans, to build a life with you. And together, you had a daughter—little Seraphina—who had inherited his everything. His attitude, his stupidly handsome face shape, his genes left nothing for yours to take root in seraphina.

And now, the two of them were bickering. Again.

You rubbed your temples, exhaling deeply. “Can you two please stop fighting over me for five minutes?”

Rafayel, ever the dramatic artist, was sprawled on the couch with a faux-wounded expression, his purple hair draped over his face. “I cannot believe this betrayal,” he murmured. “I, your devoted husband, have been abandoned.”

Seraphina, all four years of attitude and tiny hands on her hips, stood her ground. “You had Mama all day! It’s my turn!”

Rafayel gasped, looking personally offended. “Excuse me, little guppy, but I believe it is always my turn.”

Seraphina pouted, her violet eyes—exactly like her father’s—narrowing. “Mama played with me first.”

“Mama kissed me first this morning.”

“Well—Mama let me sit on their lap while we ate breakfast.”

“Mama lets me sleep in the bed next to them.”

You groaned. “Rafayel, she’s four.”

“And?” He arched a perfect brow. “She must learn that a wife’s love belongs to her husband first.”

Seraphina huffed, turning to you with pleading eyes. “Mama, tell Daddy he’s being mean.”

You sighed, knowing full well that no answer would satisfy either of them.

Rafayel rolled onto his side, reaching a hand toward you as if on his deathbed. “My love, tell our traitorous offspring that no one can replace me in your heart.”

“I am not a traitor!” Seraphina stomped a tiny foot. “Mama loves me so much! Even more than you!”

Rafayel sat up instantly. “Oh, now that’s where you’re wrong.”

“No, I’m right!”

“You wish, little one.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, wondering how your life had come to this—caught between two extremely possessive, competitive merfolk.

Seraphina suddenly latched onto your leg, wrapping herself around it like a tiny octopus. “Mine,” she declared.

Rafayel narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

Seraphina stuck her tongue out at him.

Rafayel smirked. “Well then.” He cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms. “If that’s how you want to play it.”

In one swift motion, he scooped Seraphina up, ignoring her protests as he carried her toward the glass doors leading to the backyard’s infinity pool—built deep enough to accommodate his real form.

Seraphina’s eyes widened. “Wait—WAIT! What are you doing?!”

Rafayel grinned mischievously. “Throwing you back into the sea where you belong, little guppy.”

“NOOO!”

You laughed, watching as Seraphina clung to her father’s arm, suddenly realizing her fight for dominance might have backfired.

“Say it,” Rafayel teased, holding her above the water. “Say I win.”

Seraphina squirmed. “Never!”

Rafayel raised a brow. “Alright then—”

“MAMA HELP!”

You folded your arms, amused. “This seems like a father-daughter matter.”

Seraphina gasped at your betrayal. “Mama, no!”

Rafayel gave you a smug look. “Oh, so now you need me, hmm?”

Seraphina groaned dramatically before finally giving in. “Fiiiiiine. You win.”

Rafayel set her back on the ground, ruffling her purple hair. “That’s my girl.”

She huffed but then immediately clung to your side again. “But Mama still loves me more.”

Rafayel scoffed. “Dream on, little guppy.”

You sighed, shaking your head. This was your life now.

[tbaluver]

Hewoo! I'm so so soo weak for your family fluff headcanons aaa can I request a scenario of the little kiddies of LADS men sneaking off with reader's phone and made a video call to their papas because they've been away from home and/or simply making a silly video call to brighten up their papas day? 🥺🫶🏻

˗ˏˋ Incoming Baby Call!˗- The Love And DeepSpace Men

featuring ( in order ): xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb genre: fluff fluff summary: your child(ren) sneak off with your phone to call them a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ WAHHH THANK YOU MWAH i love writing them as dads like i fear i want no husband as long as its them .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. this one is not beta read so i apologize for any mistakes! i have so much wip of them as papas that i hope to post soon <3 anyways i hope i did this request with justice ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ i hope you enjoy reading! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier was exhausted and hungry, his mission dragging on longer than he’d hoped. He couldn’t wait to get back home, pick up some dinner for his family, and finally relax. He couldn’t wait to wrap up this mission and be back home with you both.

Just as he refocused on tracking the wanderer, a soft ringtone caught his attention. Without a second to spare, he answered once he saw your name flash through his screen. But instead of you, his little boy appeared instead holding his plushie-shaped cookie.

“Hi, little buddy.” Xavier smiles softly. His son, as usual, flashes a cute peace sign in front of the camera. It was a little habit he did whenever there was a camera around and it’s a habit that you both hope he’d never outgrow.

“Papa,” his son whispers, holding up the tiny plushie to the screen as if he were offering it to him.

“Are you offering me a bite?” Xavier asked, playing along as his son nodded eagerly. “Thank you. It tastes great,” He adds, pretending to chew thoughtfully and giving a mock critic nod. “I think we should get more of these.”

It warmed Xavier’s heart to see his son share food even through the screen. Perhaps it’s something he’d watched you both share meals often and picked up on it. “Don’t forget to share with mommy too, okay?” His son nods enthusiastically, his chubby cheeks puffing out. “By the way, where is mommy?”

His son placed a finger to his lips to quietly shush him as he tilted the phone to the side, revealing you peacefully napping close to him, a plushie tucked under your arm. Xavier chuckles softly, not wanting to disturb you.

“Alright, let’s keep it quiet so we don’t wake mommy up okay?” He whispers, “If you take a nap now, I’ll be home before you know it.”

His son nods sleepily as he snuggles up closer to you. Even in such a small and simple moment, Xavier couldn't help but feel grateful. It reminded him just how lucky he was to come home to a family with so much love.

Zayne:

It was another busy night at the hospital. Multiple reports to go through before checking up on several other patients who are waking from surgery in a few hours. Another stressful night, but he’ll manage like he always does. Just as he was about to settle down in his seat, he checked his phone.

11 missed calls

Concern floods his body as he immediately calls you, only to find your baby daughter on the other end. “Papa!” She coos, her sweet little smile makes him feel slightly relieved. 

“Hi my love, where is Mommy?”

“in the bafroom,” She replies casually, his heart easing. That would be correct, her snowman pajamas tell him that you both should be getting ready for bed right about now. “Papa! I miss you..Are you going home now?” She pouts into the screen and Zayne only chuckles into the camera, adjusting his glasses. 

“Not yet my love.” He says softly, her pout deepening further. “I’m sorry but it seems that I’ll be here for a while.” His heart twinges at his own words. As much as he hates to disappoint his daughter, he knows this is a part of his job, something she’ll understand better as she grows older.

“But whyyy? Can’t you work here instead? You look tired papa.” She whines with pleading eyes, hoping this time she can make her father come home early again. 

He chuckles, he must’ve heard you both talking about his reports in the morning and mistaken it for something like homework. “Not tonight my love. Unfortunately, some patients need me right now”

She pouts, her head turning away, and he can’t help but feel worried. Did he upset her? He would hope not, he would want her to sleep well tonight. Maybe he should come home early or he can make it up by getting secret sweet treats together again.

“Papa, how about I read you a book then?” She asks, breaking his thoughts. She held up a book that she’s been practicing with. Maybe she noticed the bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep and is trying to cheer him up in her own little way.

“Of course,” A smile tugs on his lips as he adjusts the phone so he can hear her better. She opens the book, sounding out each word with Zayne occasionally helping her with the tricky ones. His heart swells as he watches her, she’s already growing up so fast.

She stops reading when he hears your voice in the background, asking her what she’s doing. “I’m talking to papa, mommy! I’m reading to him right now” You chuckle, thinking she was talking to a picture of him on your phone again but don’t realize she’d manage to call him this time.

“Sorry, Zayne! We can call you another time!” You quickly grab the phone to see your handsome husband’s face on the screen. You know at this hour isn’t his break but before you can say anything more, Zayne gently cuts you off.

“No, it’s fine. Stay, please. Let her keep going. I haven’t taken my break yet anyway.” His voice softens with a chuckle when he hears her cheer in the background. You smile, adjusting the phone and settling her on your lap. Together, you both help her continue reading her story before you say your goodnight’s.

Rafayel:

Boredom isn’t even the word to cover it. Rafayel felt tired, drained, from the endless back and forth conversations with multiple collectors, sucking away all the energy from him. The more he conversed with them, the heavier his eyelids became. He wanted to yawn, to make it clear how uninterested he was in their never-ending rambling. However, if he did, Thomas would surely give him an earful later or worse another due date for another art project.

He glanced around the room, jealousy gnawing at him as he watched a group of an artist's family admiring art together. He wished you and the kids were here with him. He would’ve had you here if he hadn’t procrastinated to accept the invite, the room’s capacity was already maxed out and the lists of invites were soon closed.

As the collector rambled on, Rafayel could feel his eyes slowly drooping, surely soon enough the glass in his hands would drop. Luckily, just when he thought he might lose the last bit of focus, his phone ringing caught his and the collector’s attention.

“Excuse me, it’s my wife.” The collector nodded, walking away, giving Rafayel the perfect opportunity to slip into a private bathroom.

As soon as he answered the phone, his heart lifted. On the screen were his little bundles of joy. “My little glubs!” A wide grin spread across his face, his eyes lighting up as the kids' tiny smiles beamed back at him. “What are you guys doing? Where’s Mama?" He asks, tilting his head, hoping to catch a glimpse of you through the screen.

“She’s cleaning!” One of the kids chirped, earning a playful shushing from her siblings. Rafayel chuckled, they had definitely taken your phone again.

“Papa, can you come home now? We’re bored and we miss you!” Their pleas echoed from each other, hoping he could understand that they really missed him. His heart ached, he could practically feel their tiny arms reaching out to him through the phone.

“Just a couple more hours and I’ll be home, I promise. Then we can play all night long, yeah?” He raised a brow, tilting his head.

“No Daddy! We made something for you!” One of them piped up, excitement bubbling in his voice.

“Yeah! We made our own art...ex..exa? examission?” The word came out cute, and Rafayel’s sure he meant to say was exhibition. Rafayel didn’t know yet but they had planned to surprise him with their own little art show that you were secretly setting up in the living room. You figured it would be a good idea to cheer him up after a long day without his family. However, you didn’t know the kids would take your phone while they ran off to go ‘play’.

“Papa, you have to come soon or else we’ll close!” His youngest insisted. Raf smiled, realizing this was one of their clever little ways of getting him to hurry home before they had to go to bed.

He paused for a moment, tapping his finger on his chin. His kids waited in anticipation, a playful grin spreading across his face as an idea sparked in his head. “Got it!” He said, snapping his fingers. “I’m coming home now!” The sounds of cheerful giggles erupted on the other side of the line.

Rafayel quickly exits out of the bathroom, Thomas follows behind closely while he asks where does he thinks he's going. Rafayel mentioned briefly that he had another art exhibition that was way more important than this one, making it enough to leave Thomas confused and stop in his tracks.

Sylus:

There’s nothing more infuriating when the tradesmen don’t want to cooperate even if they’re tied up. They whine and complain but the moment they realize no one’s listening, they cry out for help. But before their pleas can even form properly, Sylus silences them with a single look, fear flickering across their faces.

“One moment,” He says, raising an index finger to quiet them. Everyone's attention shifts to his ringtone, a melody of a childish tune unexpectedly playing from the speakers. The tradesmen freeze, exchanging confused glances at each other.

“Bossman said one moment!”

“Yeah, one moment!” Luke and Kieran chimed in, nodding as they let Sylus step away

Sylus taps the green button, his brow furrowing as he sees your name and contact photo flash on the screen. A wave of concern washes over him, did something happen while he was away? But that worry disappears when he sees his daughter's bright, familiar face light up on his screen.

“Daddy!! Hi daddy hiii!!” She chirps, waving excitedly at him.

“Hello, my little dove. What’s going on? Are you and Mommy alright?” He feels the tension in his shoulders ease when she nods rapidly, her little pigtails that you tied bouncing up and down. His heart melted at the sight of her, she looked almost identical to him, with white hair and red eyes yet her personality reminded him so much of yours.

“She’s in the kitchen,” She whispers as if she was sharing a secret. He assumes that she’s taken your phone in secret again. It should be fine, he has taught her to use the phone for emergencies. This wouldn’t count as much as one but he needed to take a step away before he caused one. “Papa, are you okay?” Sylus pauses, taken aback by just how perceptive she is. Perhaps it’s the vein on his forehead that’s threatening to pop. She’s sharp just like her mother.

He exhales deeply. “It’s just a rough night sweetie.”

Her brows furrowed with concern and her pout deepened, pitying her father. How she wished to hug him through the screen. “Papa, how about I sing you a song!” She offers, earning another soft chuckle from Sylus. He always sings her to sleep or cheers her up with a song so it’s no wonder she picked up the habit from him.

“Go ahead, my dove.”

Her vocals were very much like her father’s. When she spots his grin, her confidence grows, making her sing even louder.

“Make it stop!” One of the tradesmen suddenly screams, his voice cracking in desperation. “I’ll give you whatever you want- just please make it stop!” He cries, making Sylus’s ears twitch, the vein in his forehead threatening to make a reappearance.

“Papa, what was that?” She asks, tilting her head innocently.

“I think it was your audience dear. They seemed to enjoy your performance.” Her face immediately lights up, letting out a gleeful cheer.

“Can you give me a moment sweetie? I’ll be right back,” He quickly mutes the call and shuts off the camera. Quickly he extracts the necessary information before the men are lifted from the ground, their feet dangling helplessly in the air as red tendrils swirl around them. Despite their begs and cries, they vanished into thin air, leaving the room finally quiet.

With the problem dealt with, Sylus flips his phone back on. He hears your daughter’s cheerful greeting from the other end of the call, her innocent enthusiasm makes his smile return.

“Looks like you brought some good luck little dove. It seems we’re heading home early tonight.”

Caleb:

It had been a long, grueling shift in the skies. Nothing but endless stretches of blue with a few clouds to break the dullness. The minutes dragged by, each one feeling longer than the last. Caleb sat in his cockpit, his elbow propped on the console and his chin resting on his hand as he gazed at his screen. He could handle a shift here and there but ever since your family has grown, miles away from everything he cared about, it weighed on him.

That’s when a familiar, cheerful ringtone broke through the silence.

Caleb immediately perks up, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips when he sees your name and a photo of you flash on the screen. However it wasn’t you on the other end, it was someone much smaller and cuter and very much identical to him.

“Dad, dad!” The little boy grins ear to ear. Caleb couldn’t help but grin back, the weariness from his shift fading away.

“Hey there, squirt! What’s up?” Nothing seems to be wrong as he reads from his son’s facial expression. “Where’s mom? Everything alright there?” But of course, he just had to make sure. He would not hesitate to fly this ship back around.

“Yeah! She’s in the kitchen cleaning up. I ate all my vegetables just like you said!” His son beamed, making Caleb chuckle, shaking his head fondly.

“Good job! Don’t forget to thank your mom too, alright?” Your son nods enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling but Caleb couldn’t figure out why he could be so hyper until he held up a thick book about the Jurassic era.

“Dad, I finished this whole book!” He said, flipping through the pages to show his dad the pictures. “Did you know black beetles are one of the only creatures that survived the Jurassic era? We should go find some!” His tiny finger lands on a picture of a massive beetle, his eyes wide with awe.

Caleb chuckled, his heart melting at how much his son was almost like him. “That’s awesome buddy. You know, I think-”

Before Caleb could say anything more, a soldier by his door interrupts him. “Colonel, sir-!” Caleb’s fingers twitched, slamming the door shut before he finished his sentence. 

He returned his attention to his son, letting him continue his chatter about dinosaurs, and beetles while Caleb would chime in, sharing a little fact or story like how he used to tell you when you were walking on your way to school or just to help you fall asleep at nights.

Time seemed to slip away as Caleb listened to his son’s excited ramblings, the hours of his shift seemed to go faster than he realized. Even though he still had a while to go, hearing the voice of his family was enough to keep him going.

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

[xxmcr05xx]

When the Sun Hits | Anakin Skywalker x f!Reader

Summary: Anakin doesn't know how to cope so he goes to his fwb.

Warnings/Contains: Friends with benefits, virginity loss, flashbacks, making out, groping, dry-humping, hickeys, cunnilingus, fingering (f! receiving), orgasm, nipple play, nipple licking, friends to lovers, dacryphilia, praise kink, doggy style, cowgirl position

WC: 3,877

Originally posted: 02/06/25 on AO3!

Title Song: When the Sun Hits - Slowdive

18+ MDNI

Divider by @uzmacchiato

Anakin was curled up in bed.

He had been feeling quite low for the past couple of days now, war was looming and he know he shouldn't be scared - he's a Jedi for fuck sake! Nonetheless, he still felt paralyzed in his bed. Anakin just wanted one girl: his best friend F/N. The two had been friends ever since Anakin was a young padawan - the two first meeting on Naboo as the queen's younger sister.

After their initial meeting, the two became inseparable, talking to each other almost every week and when they were lucky enough, spent their free time together doing who knows what. That was years ago now and the two have grown older, both 23 to be exact. There was a shift in their relationship, and it happened when they were celebrating F/N's 19th birthday.

"Happy birthday, F/N!" Anakin cheered, walking up to the girl and giving her a big hug.

"Ani! Aah I was wondering when you," F/N greeted back, keeping her arms wrapped around his waist, "everyone is in the main hall partying right now, but I don't want of that. Honestly, it was Padmé's idea to host the party, oddly enough, Sola was also enthusiastic as well about the party," F/N sighed out, letting go of the hug, "honestly, I wanted to just have you over put she insisted."

Anakin let out a small chuckle, "You're a very lucky girl, F/N. C'mon, let's go say hi to some people then maybe we can go up to your room, 'kay?" Anakin suggested, F/N pouted but gave a nod anyway, walking together to the main hall. When they arrived, music was playing loudly, the decor was F/N's edgy taste of darker colours - with some lighter decorations sprinkled in thanks to her sister's.

In the distance, Padmé spotted the two and perked up, walking over and waving, "Anakin! A pleasure to see you," Padmé greeted, giving the man a small side-hug, "F/N does NOT shut up about you, y'know I think she'd like you for her bir-" Padmé was interrupted with F/N slapping her hand over her mouth, clearly embarrassed. Anakin raised an eyebrow at Padmé's statement, but didn't think too much of it

"That's enough, Padmé, shut up," F/N growled through her teeth, "anyway.... can I go to my room now? Everyone's been her for like five hours now; I'm extremely tired," I whined out.

Padmé gave her younger sister an empathetic look and nodded, "You guys are free to go up, I just hope you're having a good birthday, sister," she said softly, rubbing F/N's arm.

"I am, Padmé, thank you."

F/N then grabbed Anakin's excitedly and waved goodbye to her sister, Anakin was taken aback a bit with F/N's sudden gesture, but just followed her anyway. "Man, I am just so glad you're here, Ani, this party was just a bore," F/N complained as they made their way to F/N's room.

"Mmm I'm sure it is, F/N. It was all you were complaining about for the past couple of days," the boy replied, rolling his eyes a little with a small grin.

"Excuse me, Anakin, I NEVER complain," F/N replied back with a matter-of-fact tone that made Anakin snicker a little.

The pair finally made their way to F/N's room, it was decorated with a lot of posters, as well as a lot of water colour paintings that the girl had done. F/N went to her vanity and started to take out her hair pins, "Can you believe what they did to my hair, Ani? I would never allow myself to have it all pinned up and curled, but Padmé HAD to insist I have it up - she even asked her stupid servants to do it up..." The blond man nodded softly, he was sat on F/N bed, looking over at the girl as she casual-fied herself.

F/N talked nonstop for about thirty minutes about the party as she changed out of her party attire and into something more comfortable. She walked behind the room divider to change, complaining about her sister and how she found it annoying that her parents had told her to live in the palace with her queen sister, but her other sister got to stay at home.

Moonlight peered out of the windows, it was at just the right angle that Anakin could see F/N naked silhouette. His eyes widened slightly as he could see her undress, unaware that Anakin could see her so well while she continued to chat. Anakin had these thoughts about F/N before: when he was just hitting puberty he saw her at a different angle of teenage lust. As a Jedi he couldn't do anything and tried very hard to suppress those feelings - ultimately failing at some times.

Anakin cleared his throat to clear his mind as F/N walked out from the divider, dressed in her pyjamas now. "- and so I'm just deciding not to talk to them again. Such a lazy coward," F/N huffed out, sitting on the bed next to Anakin, "I hope that you're enjoying yourself, Anakin," the girl asked, crossing her legs and laying on her back.

"O-Oh yeah I'm okay. Actually, I did get you a gift," Anakin replied back, F/N looked up and pouted, "I know I know, you didn't want a gift but I felt bad... you are nineteen now, after all," Anakin reached into his pocket and held a jewelry box in his hand. F/N gasped a little and sat up, looking at Anakin. "Happy birthday," Anakin whispered, giving the box to F/N.

When she opened it up, the box revealed a gorgeous gold chain, in the middle that gold continued to weave over a polished chalcedony crystal. "Wow, Anakin, I don't know what to say..." F/N looked up at Anakin with soft eyes, "thank you." Anakin smiled back as F/N took the necklace out of the box, wearing it over her neck.

"It looked gorgeous on you, F/N," Anakin mumbled, playing with the sleeve of his robe as F/N admired it.

"Where did you even get something like this?" F/N asked, looking closely at the crystal.

Anakin chuckled and looked away nervously, "Don't worry, F/N. As long as you're happy with it." The girl looked up at Anakin and smiled softly, she wriggled a bit closer to him and hugged him tightly, repeating another quiet thank you as they hugged. Anakin was taken aback a bit but hugged her back anyway. He could feel her breath on his neck and the smell of her perfume strongly.

The two moved away from the hug and stared at each other, Anakin looked into her eyes with a deep compassion while F/N had a strong sense of need. "Anakin..." F/N whispered, she had a small crease near her eyebrow - Anakin knew that look, she would do that subconsciously when she wanted something.

"Yes, F/N?"

F/N gulped and looked to the side, suddenly feeling extremely hot and bothered when looking at Anakin. "Thank you for making my birthday special... I... I don't know what to say or do," She let out with a small voice. Anakin could sense it on her, something about the situation they were in right now made their usually relaxed relationship suddenly tensed up.

"Can you feel it?" F/N asked.

She looked back up at him with desperate eyes, she was feeling things that she shouldn't about her best friend but Anakin could sense it in her head. F/N wanted Anakin in a more-than-friendly way and Anakin could sense it. The blond gulped and looked back at her, "I can't... I'm a Jedi," Anakin muttered back, but he didn't care, he knew that he was lying - they both knew that he was lying.

"We can still be friends, I still want to be your friend, Ani."

The use of his nickname in that moment flooded Anakin with a sense of stronger lust.

"Still friends?"

"Still friends."

Anakin moved closer now, he basically entrapped F/N between his legs, his hands moved to her cheek, feeling her warm face. Neither of them had ever been close like this before, they hadn't even been like this with another person. "Tell me to stop..." Anakin whispered, his other hand grazing down her arm now.

But F/N didn't.

She shook her head and moved her own hand over his own that was on her cheek, "I need you right now, Ani."

It was all Anakin had to hear, he slowly guided F/N to lay down on her bed and crawled on top of her, basically caging her with his arms and legs. F/N had this insatiable look in her eyes as Anakin stared down at her - they both knew it was wrong but it wouldn't change anything, right?

Anakin leaned down at moved the hair out of her face, whispering 'thank you's' and how much he's thought about this. His lips trailed from her jaw and right near her lips. He looked back at her with permission, but she had that look in here eyes that said 'just take me' - so Anakin did that.

Their lips met softly, kissing passionately as Anakin held her face. The two friends moaned out softly so Anakin took that moment to slip his tongue out to graze against F/N's lips, she opened her mouth slightly and let Anakin taste her. The taste and sensation of F/N against him was overwhelming, he had never felt this turned on in his life.

Small moans left F/N's mouth as Anakin's hand moved down her shoulders now, teasing her as they neared her tits. Anakin could sense that she liked that so he moved his hands to her tits over her pyjama shirt, his hands groped her ever-so slightly which made F/N moan a bit louder in her mouth.

His hands trailed underneath her shirt, feeling her bare chest now with both his hands.

The scene in front of him was overwhelming when he moved away from her lips: her shirt tugged above her tits, hair sprawled and messy, and her face pink and flustered. Anakin stared at his hands and sighed, rubbing her chest again with his thumbs. "Fuck, I really just want to take you..." he whined out.

"Just take me, Ani."

And that's what they did.

Anakin and F/N were each other's first that night.

They continued as friends with benefits after that night.

Years had passed since then and Anakin was now a Jedi knight, he was still best friends with F/N but their relationship was slightly changed now. They were more intimate with each other. Anakin whined out F/N's name sadly, no one was in the room but he was hoping that she would arrive any minute. Just before he laid in bed, he called F/N and asked her to come over.

Five minutes had passed and Anakin heard a knock on the door, the man got up straight away and basically ran to the door. In front of him was his best friend, she was much more mature looking than the first time they were together and it drove Anakin to insanity, he loved her so much. "What's wrong, Ani? Are you okay?" F/N as she walked into the room, he shrugged and closed the door, sitting back down on his bed.

"I'm a Jedi knight and I feel scared," Anakin cried out, he covered his face with his hands and groaned, "I'm a failure of a Jedi knight; what is wrong with me?"

F/N sat down next to Anakin and sighed, placing a hand on his thigh, "You're gonna be fine, Ani. You're the best Jedi knight ever, Anakin. I know that you can do this, we'll make it out in the end." The brunette sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, feeling a lot more calm now.

"Thank you, F/N. I'm a bit embarrassed now," he confessed, looking to the side in embarrassment. This made F/N giggle, she laid down on Anakin's bed and looked over at him.

"We all get like that sometimes, it just makes us human."

Anakin shrugged and muttered an 'I suppose so' under his breath, he looked back up at F/N and frowned with that same need in his eyes. "I just need to get my mind off of it," Anakin mumbled. F/N knew this was a code for 'please just let me fuck you,' so she laughed and sat up.

"Oh, yeah? How so?" F/N teased.

The man pouted and sat up, "You know how..." Anakin muttered, he bit the inside of his cheek, annoyed about her teasing. F/N grinned and shifted close to Anakin, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"You just missed your best friend, didn't you?" F/N whispered into his ear, grinning still. Anakin let out a deep sigh and placed his larger hands over hers.

"Maybe..."

Anakin stared into her eyes and kissed her nose, "Just lay down, let me love you tonight," Anakin begged, rubbing his hands down her shoulders. F/N obeyed his command and laid down on her back, smiling as she kept her eye contact with Anakin. The Jedi groaned softly at the look in her eyes, he could tell that she wanted this just as much he wanted it.

His lips smashed against hers in almost an instant, a total opposite of the first time he made love with her.

They were a total horny mess.

F/N wrapped her legs around Anakin's waist, grinding herself onto the Jedi, which made him whine out loudly. His hands undressed her quite fast, removing his own clothes as well while they still made out. Saliva was dripping down their faces now as their lust for one another grew, Anakin's hands were all over F/N's body now, groping and slapping her tits as his mouth moves down to her clavicle. He couldn't help himself. Anakin bit small love bites on F/N's breasts which made the woman cry out.

"Hhgh, oh my fucking hell, Ani... it's so much!..." F/N whined out.

Anakin growled and sucked harder all over her chest, which started to look like a watercolour painting of purples and reds. "Just let me eat you out, precious," Anakin moaned out, he kept eye contact with F/N as he kissed further down her tummy, close to her aching cunt now. "Fuck, I can smell it from here," Anakin moaned out, looking down at her cunt now, "it smells so sweet and delicious, baby."

The Jedi pulled her panties down slowly but surely, "I love you," Anakin confessed, he wasn't even thinking at that moment as his tongue attached to her lips straight away. F/N's eyes widened both at the sudden feeling as well as Anakin's confession, not once during their 'situation' have they ever said 'I love you' to one another.

F/N covered her mouth with her hands and moaned out, Anakin's tongue was deep inside of her now, his arms over her thighs and his thumb rubbing her clit harshly. Anakin kept his pace up as he felt F/N's thighs squeezing his head, which further motived the Jedi. "It's too much, Ani!!" F/N sobbed out, she desperately tried to move away from Anakin, but his pace continued. He moved his mouth away from her pussy and he looked back up at F/N, he had two fingers inside of her now, squirming inside of her at a fast pace.

The look on Anakin's face was insatiable. He was just so insatiable.

A mixture of her cum and his spit were running down his mouth now, cheeks and mouth red, and his hair a mess. F/N wanted to kiss him so bad but she felt her orgasm nearing, she shook her head in pleasure, her knuckles were white as a ghost as she gripped the bedsheets tightly. F/N noticed that Anakin's hips would move as well, which definitely indicated that he was grinding into the bed this entire time.

"Fhuh... gonna c-cum, F/N?" Anakin asked, speech slurred from the bodily fluids coming out of his mouth, "P-Please just fucking cum all over me," Anakin moaned out and leaned forwards, his lips were sucking harshly on F/N's nipples. Pleasure wasn't even the right word for what the two friends were feeling right now, it was just so much overwhelming lust.

F/N nodded her head intensely, her hands moved to Anakin's back, holding him as close to her as she could. Her orgasm took over after that, she held her childhood friend close to her. Anakin kept fingering her after her orgasm, he needed to feel her wetness more. "S-Stop, Ani... too much," F/N cried out.

Anakin snapped back into reality for a second and looked up at F/N, tears were pouring down her face. "Oh fuck- I'm really sorry, F/N," Anakin had a slightly panicked face as he wiped her tears away, making F/N laugh a little.

"It's okay Anakin..." F/N replied back rubbing his cheek a little with her thumb, "now... how about I return the favour, yeah?" F/N asked, slowly switching positions with Anakin. The man was thanking the Makers in his head so much in  the moment, extremely turned on with F/N's fucked-out appearance: hair messy and cum dripping out of her cunt and onto the mattress.

F/N leaned down, she kissed Anakin's cheek before pulling off his boxers. She noticed just before she peeled it off that there was a huge wet stain at the front, making F/N giggle. When she took the undergarment off of him fully, she was taken aback at the size of his cock - despite having seen it multiple times.

"It just looks good every single time I see it," F/N confessed, making Anakin blush.

F/N adjusted herself onto her side now, she held his cock with her free hand and smiled, looking up at Anakin. Her mouth slowly dipped down to his cock, licking the tip with her tongue slowly and indulging the taste of his pre-cum. Anakin moved a hand down to her hair and gripped it gently, slowly guiding the woman and up down his cock.

She closed her eyes softly and indulged in the taste of his cock, bobbing her head at a faster pace now and sucking her cheeks in. Anakin could die a happy man right here and then, it was extremely overwhelming for him but he just needed her more and more. "Th-That's it... good fucking girl," Anakin praised, letting out a throaty growl.

This turned on F/N even more, her pace was even faster now which Anakin noticed. "Oh? You- You like when I praise you? You're such a good girl for me, you know just the right angle to fucking suck me off," Anakin paused to let out a loud moan as he could feel F/N's tongue on a prominent vein on his cock, "I'm gonna just cum so fucking hard in your mouth, sweet girl."

F/N needed this more than ever, her pace was unbelievably faster now. Anakin's legs were jittering now, his grip was tight on her hair as he basically forced her to suck him off. "Fucking hell.. aah fuck... I'm gonna cum-" Anakin's eyes shot wide as he orgasmed, eyes rolling backwards in pleasure as he shot his load down F/N's mouth.

The woman opened her eyes to look at Anakin, swallowing his cum quickly. She sat up and hovered over Anakin's cock, "I need to take you now, Ani," F/N whined out, she kissed Anakin's post-orgasm face and held his hard cock again, slowly sliding her cunt over it.

Both of them moaned in unison, overstimulated by their recent orgasms. Anakin's hands moved down to her waist, helping guide her down his raw cock, "You're so tight, my sweet girl, so unbelievably fucking good," Anakin moaned out, it was bad, he was starting to feel protective over her. "You're mine forever, got it? I own your fucking cunt, I own you."

F/N moaned in agreement, nodding her head fast and babbling yes underneath her breath. Anakin's hips thrusted up, trying hard to keep in time with the speed that F/N was bouncing on him.

The disgusting sound of squelching and bed-squeaking filled the room up.

This was the most intimacy any two people could ever be.

"I love you, F/N..." Anakin confessed again, he kissed her clavicle and cried out, "fuck I love you I love you I love you so much," Anakin pushed F/N over onto her back. F/N was taken aback and cried out because Anakin slipped out of her, he grabbed her hips and flipped her so that she was on her knees.

F/N whimpered out at the sudden action but allowed it to happened. Anakin was worshipping her at this point, pressing kisses all over her legs and up to her ass, giving it one last kiss before getting up on his knees, thrusting his cock back into F/N's cunt. F/N hands grabbed the sheets almost in an instant and whined out, eyes closed in pleasure, Anakin fucking her from behind.

His hands gripped her ass tightly, smacking it harshly and trying to reach his rush his orgasm. "Ooouhh, oh fuck-" Anakin leaned down, his head resting on F/N's back, "gonna cum so deep inside you, 'kay? My perfect girl I'm gonna fucking cum in your perfect body."

F/N nodded, feeling her own orgasm arriving as soon as he spoke up, her body shook and a drawn-out moan left her mouth as she came.

Soon after, Anakin came as well, he held F/N as close as he could to his own body, letting out the loudest moan that echoed through the room. The feeling of her warm cunt was so intriguing for Anakin, he loved the feeling of his warm cum inside of her. A minute passed and he finally moved, he slowly slid out of F/N's cunt, which made her whimper. Anakin looked over and saw that F/N was basically asleep, he chuckled to himself and helped her lay on her back.

"Did you mean that before, Ani?" F/N asked as she leaned her head onto Anakin's chest, "That... That you loved me?" Anakin looked down at her and smiled a little, a small blush on his face.

"O-Oh yeah uhm... I really do like you a lot, F/N," Anakin muttered, "I've always been too afraid to tell you, since I thought you just saw me as a friend."

F/N snorted and lightly punched his chest, "Oh my Maker, Anakin, I think I've had a crush on you since I was like... thirteen." Anakin hummed and held her close.

"Well, I'm happy that you're only mine now."

"I've always been yours."

[orphicsun]

Please could you do a small one shot or headcannon for sevika... soft degradation with love behind it NSFW pleaseeee I need this in my life 😭😭

my nsfw thoughts on sevika

warnings: 18+ content, mentions of different sexual activities and positions, dom! sevika/sub reader dynamic, spankings & pain-play, hair-pulling, soft degradation, shower sex, strap-on oral, and petnames (good girl, Sevika refers to herself as daddy idc it’s my headcannon!)

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika whose favorite position is missionary. Many would say it's boring for a favorite, but Sevika? It's an easy excuse to get the chance to kiss you while she's inside you. She will be on top of you with either her fingers deep in your cunt, letting them squeeze around her like a vice, or forcing your legs wide apart so she can fit her wide hips between them to fuck you with a strap-on. No matter what though, you're gonna have a mouth full of her. It may be soft, sweet kisses that you get when she feels loving with you, her lips taking yours tenderly. However, sometimes when you're both moaning all messily and on the edge of orgasms, she'll find herself harshly shoving her tongue in your mouth, often having to pull away to breathe. In those moments, you hear words that make your pussy clench around her.

"You love getting fucked like this, hm? When I fuck this pussy 'till you feel it in your throat?"

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who is the type to prefer the strap in favor of scissoring, fingering, and pussy eating. Not to say she won't do foreplay! Sevika eating pussy is another topic for a headcannon below, but her with a strap? She likes being able to have her power over your with her entire body. Feeling your pussy against hers is nice, but there is a certain degree of control that comes with fucking you. She can feel it, but it isn't as messy or as overwhelming. For her, at least. You're feeling her in a way that makes your legs shake and your voice turn raw, while she can stay fucking you above you, able to tease and taunt you.

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who is a soft sadist. She doesn't enjoy laughing while spanking you or using a flogger or whatever method you're into. She likes watching you struggle with the pleasure combined, too. Imagine bent over her lap, your face buried into the bed as you pathetically cry. Sevika doesn't spank you harder or tell you to count, no. She'll be sweet about it for a bit, make you feel good and loved. Lean down and coo soft comforts in your ear and make you feel like you're off the hook. You're not, though. The moment you confirm that you're still okay, you get another hit on your ass that leaves you instantaneously crying out and cumming. Same with hair-pulling, too. Sevika is a huge hair puller. She likes forcing you to face her either by grabbing your chin(imagine the way she did with Vi during the fight in season one!!), or gathering your hair in a ponytail just to lovingly yank it. It makes her own pussy throb to listen to the surprise in your tone when she does it.

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who, when she has sex, has to have long sessions. Doesn't settle for quickies, unless it's cannon-world Sevika who would probably enjoy getting the stress eased with a quick fuck. Brothel Sevika would probably be in and out to cum or to fuck one of the girls, but when you're her girl, she will spend hours making you cum. She loves foreplay, saying it's necessary to "prep you for her cock." You will probably cum at least once or twice on with a tongue warming up your clit or her middle finger teasing your g-spot, but try not to lose your voice screaming and lose your energy thrashing, because the main event will last until Sevika physically can't fuck you anymore. Breaks included.

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who is a pussy-eating enthusiast. Her method isn't Vi or Caitlyn's would be. Vi would probably flick her tongue a lot and Caitlyn would be giving proper ice-cream licks, but Sevika makes it intimate with taking her time. She's in no rush with foreplay, so why not spend a while just teasing around your clit? Why not savor the taste of your wet pussy lips, even dipping her tongue into your hole? Watching you squirm under her mouth, bucking up to get direct contact but failing. She sometimes even finds herself laughing against your pussy, not intending to cause vibrations through you but does anyway. Best believe after the teasing is up that she will not stop fucking you with her nose and mouth until you're begging for mercy.

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who loves to degrade. She doesn't outright call you a slut, but (consensually) makes comments when you wear lingerie that make you feel the best type of shame. She likes calling out brats, too. She won't hesitate to put you in your place in the most gentle way possible. Sevika is definitely a huge condescending degrader, too. She'll insult you for acting dumb when she fucks you, letting you know how pathetic you are for the bit of drool on your lips from her dick impaling you, and nearly laughing into your ear when you whimper her name like a dog in heat when the tip of the silicone kisses your cervix.

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who loves shower sex. Having you pressed up against steamy glass, lathering soap all over your back to stall. She loves taking her time, running water down your back to add to the sensations until you’re begging her to fuck you. Then, she’ll bend you over and just simply tease you. Her fingers will slide between your folds, just separating them and collecting the slick that increases there. When she can tell that you can’t take anymore, then she will drop to her knees and eat your pussy out from the back. If she’s had a rough day and you allow her to take her stress out on you, she will fuck you with her thick fingers while the shower water falls onto the both of you, letting out various curses.

“Shh, be a good girl and take my fingers. Maybe I’ll let you choke on my dick after if you listen. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who is a lover of both traditional head and strap head. She likes to watch your lips wrap around the tip of her fake dick, adore how you take as much as you can of the length into your mouth. She can’t feel it, but if she sees you using teeth she’ll use it to degrade you.

“Nuh-uh, you know better. I know you’re better at sucking dick than that. C’mon. Be a good girl and suck daddy’s cock right, don’t you wanna make me cum?”

But halfway through, she just gets so turned on that she rips the harness off, letting your eager (and very slutty) mouth taste her pussy. You love sucking her strap, but her real taste is unbeatable. Her body tenses and her breathing grows heavy above you, nodding slightly when you lap at her clit in earnest. She still guides you through it, but just know that your reward for after is getting to ride her face, so every slightly mean instruction is worth it. You like being bossed around by Sevika, anyways.

[sukiyurii]

Tension

(NSFW! Caitvi x reader, f!reader, AFAB!reader)

(praise, oral sex, strap-on sex, all!receiving, bottom!reader, bottom!vi)

wc: ~4.7k

Caught in a little lie between Vi and Caitlyn, they use your own inability to conceal your feelings against you.

��. 𐙚 ˚Because you and Vi were practically inseparable up until she was kidnapped, it was only natural that when the two of you reconciled in Zaun, she brought you back to Piltover with her and Caitlyn.

This led to a lot of you and Caitlyn butting heads. She was still becoming accustomed to Vi’s rash behavior, so when you add your own attitude to the mix; she’s less inclined to receive it positively. Don’t mistake her difficulty for lack of effort, because she does try. She meets your sarcasm, snide remarks, and crude words with as much patience as she can muster. 

While you are utterly infuriating and manage to push every single button she has, she is still infatuated with you. She sees the way your eyes soften when you talk to Vi, especially if it’s about your memories growing up, or any of her other adoptive siblings. Seeing Vi vulnerable and unguarded is new, refreshing, and probably her favorite thing to witness now.

There’s equal attraction on any and all ends between the three of you, a general consensus that all of you are just so breathtaking it’s actually ridiculous. While Caitlyn had initially been hesitant to welcome you into her life, she quickly finds herself overly enthusiastic every time she spots you asleep on the velvet couch in her room. 

She’s currently watching you and Vi chat about something, unable to determine what it is in full. She cocks her head to the side as you lean forward and show Vi one of the newest scars your body adorns. It’s deep, jagged, and runs across your left forearm, it’s a truly nasty thing. Vi raises her hand to your arm and gently soothes a calloused thumb over the skin, a silent, sympathetic apology.

Caitlyn stands up from the desk in her room, abandoning the caseload that’s occupying the surface. She makes her way over to the bed, long legs striding quickly, eager to get close to both of you. She crawls onto the bed behind you and settles herself on your left side, bracing herself with her right arm on the opposite side of your back. 

She pretends not to notice the way your breath hitches slightly as she crowds your space, feigning innocence as she looks down at your arm as well. She moves her hand down to your forearm and runs her fingers over the scarred skin, her own fingers dancing with Vi’s as they map out the old wound. 

“It used to really bother me, like… the sight of it,” you explain quietly, earning a few slow nods of understanding from the other two women. “What changed?” Caitlyn inquires gently, pushing your arm up slightly– an attempt to get a better look at it. You shrug, “I guess I… got used to it, I think,” you attempt to explain, but you really don’t have a solid answer. “Scars just kind of become a part of you, right? No reason to dwell on them forever, shit like that’ll make you miserable,” you conclude, giving both of them a faint smile. 

The two women let out a collective hum at your words, continuing to move their fingers over your arm. Vi adjusts herself and moves forward, brushing your knees together. 

The tension between all three of you truthfully could be sliced in half with the dullest knife a kitchen has to offer. Vi’s voice cuts through the air, “Why’re you so tense?” she asks quietly, noticing the way your shoulders had stiffened. The question becomes seemingly difficult to answer as you feel Caitlyn’s breath sweep over the back of your neck, her arm brushing against your back. 

“I– uh, I’m still just kinda sore from training yesterday,” you stammer in a half-truth. It is true that you were all dragged to hours worth of intense conditioning yesterday– still leaving you quite sore. But the reason that your body had tensed wasn’t due to your still aching muscles. It has everything to do with the fact that you can feel Vi’s calloused hands running over your skin and her pretty eyes trying to peer into your soul. Followed by Cait’s arm pressing into your back and her breath running down your neck. 

You feel Vi’s grip on your arm tighten ever so slightly, “You’re a really bad liar, y’know that?” She teases, voice dropping ever so slightly. You hear Caitlyn let out a quiet chuckle, followed by her slender fingers snaking their way up your right arm. “I–” you begin, but the words quickly fall short, almost as if you didn’t even know what you wanted to say to begin with. 

“What was that?” Vi coos quietly, a playful tone to her voice as she leans forward slightly, causing you to lean back reflexively. However, it only gets you so far as you further press yourself into Caitlyn’s awaiting, eager presence. Caitlyn lowers her head, placing her chin on your shoulder. 

The action causes your breath to hitch, causing  her to let out another quiet, amused chuckle. “Seems like we’ve made someone a little nervous,” she mumbles, her thick accent feeding through the air and rolling over your ears. You turn your head briefly as you feel her shift around, now sitting directly behind you. Her hands come up to your waist as she presses her chest to your back. 

You hear Vi’s soothing voice call back to you, “Is this okay, are you alright?” she asks, pulling your face back towards her gently with the side of her index finger. You nod quietly, still slightly awestruck of the situation. Vi shakes her head and says, “We need words from you, can’t just nod right now,” she says firmly, tilting her head curiously. 

“Yes, yeah, I’m good, this is okay,” you reply, giving her a reassuring smile. Both women let out a content hum at your consent, sharing a look that you can’t quite decipher. Well, you can’t decipher it until you feel Caitlyn’s hands untuck your button-up from your dress pants. You feel her long fingers rake over your skin gently, pushing her hands further up beneath your shirt. 

Vi cups your jaw with a calloused hand gently and leans forward, stalling briefly to look at your flushed face. She continues forward until your lips finally meet, causing you to short-circuit briefly. She lets out a quiet moan as you reciprocate her movements, your own hands reaching forward to brace themselves on her broad shoulders. 

You whine as you feel Caitlyn’s hands leave your skin, she shushes you gently as she moves them upwards and begins to undo the buttons of your shirt. She sits up on her knees further and presses her lips onto the side of your neck as her hands tediously work over the garment. You moan softly into Vi’s mouth, fingers tightening around her taut muscles. She reaches one of her hands up and cups the back of your head, pulling you forward, sliding her tongue in between your lips. 

Once Caitlyn has the buttons undone, she quickly shoves the shirt down your arms and moves her lips to your shoulder. She wraps her hands around your bra-covered breasts and squeezes eagerly, nipping down on the sensitive skin of your shoulder. You can feel her inhale sharply as you press your ass back against her front, languidly rolling your hips against her. “Ah– Cait,” you gasp, rewarding a soft moan from her.

You slide your hands from Vi’s shoulders down to the belt around her waist and unbuckle it, dropping it to the floor next to you. Your hands swiftly work along the enforcer jacket, popping the buttons as your hands work their way down. She pulls away from your lips and rests your foreheads together, panting as you push the jacket from her shoulders. “You’re so pretty, Vi,” you mumble, pressing a quick kiss to her jaw. 

Caitlyn pulls away from your shoulder before surging forward, capturing Vi’s lips with hers. You’re entirely sandwiched between the two women, reaching one arm behind you to hold the back of Caitlyn’s head. Your chest presses into Vi’s as you loll your head back onto Caitlyn’s shoulder, giving you the perfect angle to watch their lips dance together.

You place your hand up on Vi’s collarbones before slowly trailing it down her body, grinning eagerly as you hear her moan into Caitlyn’s mouth. You feel one of Caitlyn’s hands leave your breast and trail up to your jaw, holding it firmly. She pulls away from Vi, ignoring the way that she whines at the disconnection. She moves her other hand to the back of Vi’s neck, tangling her fingers into her hair. She tugs on it gently, relishing in the way Vi whimpers at the feeling. 

She keeps a tight hold on your jaw as she leans down and presses her lips to yours. The angle is awkward and sloppy, but she really can’t bring herself to care as she listens to you moan against her mouth. With both of you in her grasp she feels overwhelmingly powerful, elated by the way she makes both of you squirm. She pulls away, much to your disdain and pushes you forward by your upper-back gently.

You turn your head towards her and watch as she slowly begins to shed her own uniform. She grins as she watches both of your eyes widen at the sight of her now exposed skin. She pushes herself onto her hands and knees before crawling forward, settling back on her knees next to both of you.

You immediately tilt forward and attach your lips to her neck, palming at one of her breasts. She cards her fingers through your hair at the feeling and lets out a low moan, tilting her head back. You feel Vi place a hand on the band of your bra, quickly undoing it as she attaches her lips to Caitlyn’s collarbones. You slide your bra off of your shoulders before tossing it to the ground, immediately connecting your hand with Vi’s back– reaching for the end of the bandage wraps.

As you work to undo them, you fumble slightly, which elicits collective giggles from all three of you. Once you finally pull them away and drop them, you attach your lips to one of her breasts, sucking at the skin. “Oh, fuck,’ she whimpers, tightening her fingers in your hair. You feel Caitlyn come up behind your back again, reaching over you to grab at Vi’s other breast, and attach her lips to the stop of your spine. 

You pull away from Vi, looking up to meet her hungry, nearly feral gaze. She reaches up to grab your jaw firmly, giving you a sly smirk. “I know that you’re plotting something,” you tease, not missing the way that her eyes flick from yours, to Caitlyn. “Maybe I am,” she retorts, leaning forward to nip at your jaw, licking over it. 

Caitlyn continues to work her way down your spine, letting go of Vi so she can reach for the front of your dress pants, undoing them. Once they’re open, she slides her hand underneath the fabric of the pants and your underwear, rubbing gentle circles over your clit. 

She grins as you let out a guttural whine, pressing her fingers onto the sensitive bud harsher. Vi reaches for the waistband of your garments and tugs them down your legs, assisted by you. Caitlyn slides her fingers further down, teasing them over your lips. She readjusts, bracketing her long legs next to yours and wrapping an arm around your chest, holding your back to her chest.  

“Isn’t she so pretty, Violet?” she asks, eyes moving from her hand attached to you, to Vi’s. She notices the desperate look, the need that Vi has to touch you. “Yeah, she is,” she answers, sliding one of her own, large hands up your left leg. You shift and flush beneath the praise, whimpering as you feel one of Caitlyn’s fingers slide inside of you. 

You arch and squirm beneath their hands– resulting in Vi pinning your legs down as she lowers herself onto her stomach. She attaches her lips to the side of your thigh as Caitlyn continuously moves her finger inside of you, gently working in a second one. “Do you feel good?” she asks, obviously knowing the answer to her own question.

When you nod eagerly, rolling your head back onto her shoulder, she smirks down at Vim watching as the other woman kisses her way up your leg. “Tell me how good you feel, I wanna hear it,” she encourages, curling her fingers right against your g-spot. 

And as you attempt to stutter your words out, you feel Vi’s arms wrap underneath your legs and pull them over her shoulders. You fist her pink locks into your hands, keeping a firm, grounding hold on it.

“It– It feels really good,” you stutter, thighs tightening around her head as she continues to suck on the sensitive skin. “Tell me more,” she encourages, keeping a languid, teasing pace inside of you. “I’ve never felt this good before, like– like, it feels so much better than a-anything else,” you reply, whimpering as you feel Vi roughly bite onto your thigh. 

“I need more,” you plead, back arching violently. “We’ve got you, just relax, m’kay?” Vi mumbles, wrapping her hands around your hips. You nod and slump back into Cait’s awaiting form, letting them ravish you. Your eyes roll back as her fingers continuously curl inside of you, receiving borderline pornographic moans from you.

Caitlyn pulls her fingers out of you, chuckling as you whine loudly at the loss. Almost immediately after her fingers are pulled away, Vi attaches her mouth to your pussy, moaning lowly at the contact. “I’m gonna be right back, okay?” Caitlyn announces, pressing a final kiss to your shoulder before she peels herself away. You groan at the loss of contact, fully falling into the bed now.

Vi seizes the opportunity and moves over you with a new passion, using the position to her advantage. She sits up slightly and presses your thighs to your chest, keeping them pinned there with her rough hands. She sucks on your clit sloppily, nearly attempting to devour you. You tighten your hands in her hair and tug harshly, desperately trying to grind against her mouth, but finding your efforts useless. “Oh, fuck, Vi,” you moan. 

You hear the quiet commotion of Caitlyn shoving her pants and underwear down her legs, kicking them off to the side. She shuffles through a drawer, and you spare her a brief glance as you see the familiar sight of the pink and purple dildos, and black harnesses coming into view. You grin excitedly at the sight, earning a matching smile from Caitlyn. “Taking good care of our girl?” she asks Vi, trailing a lazy hand up her inked back as she comes up behind her. 

The woman between your thighs nods enthusiastically as she continues to work over your pussy, sighing contentedly as she laps up the salty liquid. You peer your eyes open, drinking in the sight of Caitlyn strapping one of the harnesses onto her lean hips. “She feels so good, Cait,” you whimper, clamping your thighs down around her head again. 

“Always so good at pleasing, isn’t she? Such a good girl,” Caitlyn coos, climbing back onto the bed, dropping the items onto the sheets. “C’mon, Violet, I want you undressed,” she murmurs, shoving your hands away from her head and fists her own into the tangled hair. She yanks Vi away from your core, both of you groaning at the loss. 

You watch Caitlyn tugs her head back and crash their lips together, moaning at the taste of you on her lips. Vi is up on her knees, braced on her hands and back arched– truly a sight anybody sane would kill to see. Caitlyn pushes her onto her back next to you, quickly working her pants and underwear down her thick thighs.

You turn over, attaching your lips to Vi’s messily, curling a hand around the side of her neck as you hold her in place. One of her hands reaches up to hold your forearm, and the other goes down to rub over her clit. She moans into your mouth loudly, hand tightening around your arm.

Caitlyn swats her hand away with a quiet “aht,” and she gets a pathetic whine in return. She shushes her gently before attaching the purple dildo to the harness resting on her hips. Vi reaches for the other harness and stands up, sliding the harness up and securing it firmly– actions a little more ungraceful as excitement thrums through her. 

All while this is happening, Caitlyn has settled herself next to you, trailing her hand back down your body. She connects your lips as her fingers make contact with your pussy again, sliding her fingers back inside. Vi catches you as your back arches at the contact, settling herself on your other side.

“Get on top of her,” Caitlyn mumbles against your lips, giving your thigh a light pat. You nod and comply immediately watching as Vi spits into her hand and rubs the slick over the silicone. 

“Y’ready?” she mumbles, keeping a supportive hand on your hip, and the other on the dildo attached to her hips. You give her an affirmative nod before bracing your hands on her chest, slowly lowering yourself onto the fake appendage. 

You both groan at the feeling, her hands tightening around your hips as she bucks her hips up further. Once she’s slotted inside of you completely, she gives you a firm pat on the ass. “Let’s go, pretty girl, move,” she commands, moaning as your hips immediately rock down on the fake cock. 

You let out a string of moans and curses as you bounce on-top of her, watching as her face flushes a deep pink and raspy moans leave her mouth. 

You feel a warm presence move behind you, “Does she feel good?” you hear Caitlyn ask, breath ghosting over your ear. You let out a guttural whimper and nod, rolling your hips down faster. “She feels really fucking good,” you answer, palming at one of Vi’s breasts. You rub your fingers over her nipple, pinching it softly– eliciting a sweet moan from her lips. 

“Could do this all fuckin’ day,” you continue, grinning down at Vi as you watch her muscles tense beneath you. She uses her strength to help guide your hips, now making eye contact with Caitlyn over your shoulder. 

“Spread your legs, Violet,” you hear her command, and feel the immediate compliance. The movement causes her to shift inside of you slightly, pulling another soft moan from your throat. 

Caitlyn slides her hand between Vi’s legs, thoroughly coating them in the wetness that had already pooled between her thighs. “Already so needy?” she teases, rubbing her fingers over her cunt before sliding two of them inside. 

Vi moans loudly, the feeling causing her hips to stutter in their movements. “Ah– Cait,” she stammers, hips now bucking up into you inconsistently. “What is it? Does it feel good, hm?” she questions, leaning in further. The action causes you to fall onto your forearms, one on either side of her head.  

You press your lips to her lips, locking them together intensely. It’s not long before you detach your lips from hers, moving them down to her jaw and neck. Her thrusts are weaker, but you meet her halfway, bouncing back down into her awaiting lap.

Caitlyn is now three fingers deep inside of Vi, her other hand wrapped around your hip.

“That’s it, baby, you got it. Make yourself feel good,” she praises, curling her fingers further inside of Vi. 

A few minutes later and you hear Vi’s breath hitch, and then a low moan escaping her lips as Caitlyn slides the silicone inside of her. Caitlyn tangles a hand into your hair and yanks your head back firmly, causing you to let out a guttural whimper as she pulls you against her. Your back is arching almost painfully, “Move faster, c’mon,” she whispers, nipping at the cartilage of your ear. She keeps a tight grip in your hair as you pick up your speed, “Yeah, there we go, feels so good doesn’t it?” She coos, craning your head back. 

Her free hand connects with Vi’s thigh as she moves her hips slowly, rolling down into her. “So beautiful, both of you– absolutely radiant,” she mutters, pressing another kiss to your ear, and then your shoulder. 

“Touch yourself, I want you to cum for me,” she encourages, voice raspy and the sentence comes out in subtle pants. You nod at her words, snaking a hand down to your clit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck ah– ah–” you whimper, followed by a blinding orgasm surging through you. You gasp and pant heavily, body and legs tensing with vibrations. Caitlyn wraps an arm around your chest and pulls you back against her, holding you tightly. “There you go baby, there it is, ride it out,” she says, helping coax you down gently from the high. 

Once you’re settled, she helps you pull off of Vi, gently guiding you to the bed. You immediately curl up next to the muscular woman, trailing your hand down to her chest, thumbing over her nipples. You attach your lips to her throat, pulling several moans from her chest. 

She moans loudly, fisting her hands into the sheets. “C’mon baby, I wanna watch your pretty face while you cum,” you murmur, rubbing faster circles over her. “Ngh– I, I–” she stammers, causing Caitlyn to hike her legs over her shoulders and fuck into her harder. Her hands pull Vi’s hips up, angling them higher so that the tip of the silicone rubs against her g-spot. Caitlyn presses their lips together in a sloppy kiss, drinking in all of Vi's moans.

You pull the attached dildo off and push the harness out of your way as much as you can. You rub your fingers over her clit, chuckling into her skin as she lets out a loud, guttural moan. You continue to kiss and suck along the skin of her throat, feeling the vibrations of every moan and whimper ripped from it. 

You feel her hand tangle into your hair as she lets out another chorus of moans and whimpers, “Please, please, please,” she whines. “You can cum, Violet, be good for us,” Caitlyn encourages, pressing soft kisses to the inside of her knee. Vi watches as a searing white light crosses over her eyes and the orgasm wracks through her, clinging onto you tightly. 

The orgasm crashes over her violently, legs tightening around Caitlyn’s neck. Left panting and gasping on her back, Caitlyn continues her ministrations– although a little slower. She gently lowers her legs from her shoulders and back to her waist, continuing to slowly rock her hips. Vi reaches out in overstimulation and attempts to push her hips away, before Caitlyn catches her hands and holds them gently. “I’m almost there, precious, I just need a minute,” she reassures, breathing coming out in rapid gasps as she nears the edge.

You rub a soothing hand up and down Vi’s abdomen, “It’s okay, you can do it, you can do it, baby,” you whisper into her ear, pressing soft kisses to face– successfully wiping the tears from them. 

Caitlyn’s orgasm washes over her intensely, causing her to collapse forward slightly– long hair hanging down. She catches herself on the bed, taking a second to breathe, before pulling away. She sheds the harness from her hips and gently works Vi’s out of hers. 

“I’m gonna go get a washcloth, okay? Will you be okay?” She asks, sliding a hand up both of your legs, soothingly. Once you both give her an affirmative nod, she walks towards the attached bathroom on shaky legs.

As she returns, she slides the damp, soft cloth over your body, pressing soft kisses against your skin. “Did so good for me, my love,” she mumbles, wiping some of the sweat from your forehead. “So, so beautiful,” she adds on, pressing her lips to your forehead. 

Once she retreats from your body, you immediately curl up against Vi, who in turn, wraps her arm around your back. Her other hand comes up to cradle your head gently. Caitlyn repeats the same process of muttering quiet praises and compliments to Vi, you pick up on a quiet, “Such a good girl, hm?” she mumbles, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

When she’s satisfied with Vi’s treatment, you and Vi reach out for her, and Vi takes the cloth from her hand. You both sit up slightly, adjusting to make it easier as you give her the same soft, gentle treatment. You press soft kisses on her abdomen and sternum as Vi swipes the cloth over her flushed skin– successfully cooling her off. “Always make us feel so good, you’re so beautiful,” you say, gently massaging the back of one of her thighs.

As you’re successfully cleaned off and sweat free, you climb beneath the soft, silken blankets. You’re pressed in between both of them, a sandwich that has truly been pulled out of one of your dreams. One of your hands is resting over Cait’s waist, the other laced with Vi’s as her arm is slung over your own. While the positions may not be the most comfortable, they keep all of you happy and satiated. 

taglist:

@tilwehittheheavens @halle5s

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. PLEASE READ AND LOOK UP DEFINITIONS OF WARNINGS FOR FURTHER CLARIFICATION. HUGE TW FOR THIS CHAPTER. CSA (only mentioned, not described), angst, fluff, fighting, physical altercation, lying, and more.

A/N: This is long as fuck and have fun on this emotional rollercoaster lol this is barely proofread btw

With love and big tits, Rose

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P25: Too Soon?

A week. My mom would be gone on some work trip for an entire seven days.

I really don’t believe it. Part of me always thought she would lie about them being ‘work trips,’ but now I was sure. What kind of work trip didn’t have cell service?

She’s lying. I know she’s hiding something, I know deep down this probably isn’t the first time she’s done this before. But that’s not even the worst part.

The worst part is that she that she left Byalen in charge to ‘watch’ me—like a fucking babysitter, since I couldn’t be trusted anymore because of the time she caught me coming home with Chris early in the morning.

Fucking hypocrite. 

Sure, I wasn’t telling the truth—but neither was she. Like mother, like daughter, I guess. 

Currently, I’m on my bed, staring up at the ceiling as my phone rests on my stomach. Chris’ voice echoes through the device. We’ve been talking for hours. I really want to just go over and see him—see my boyfriend, but I can’t. Not while I’m being fucking babysat. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna sleep over? You need to sleep.” Chris says.

God, the offer is tempting. All of me wants to say yes, walk over to his house, and cuddle up in his arms. But I can’t. I’ve slept like shit for the past three days and it keeps getting worse. I need him to hold me in order to feel okay, I wanna sleep in a house that feels like a home too. 

It’s not even just him. It’s Jimmy, it’s Matt, and hell—even Trevor. I love being around them, it makes everything feel so much easier. 

I huff, shaking my head against my pillow as I roll my eyes. “I can’t, I’m being fuckin babysat at 18 years old.” I remark. 

A wave of silence washes over for a minute. I can practically hear Chris thinking, the slight vibration of a curious hum sounding through the phone. My fingers callus over my lip, the slight graze of my nails making the muscle tingle in a way that mimics how Chris’ lips feel against my own.

Fuck. I miss that. 

It’s like he has something that I need and crave all the damn time, like he possesses some sort of energy that makes my body feel better—lighter, even. 

“Well…what if I came over there?” He offers. 

My eyebrows twist together. I lick over my lip, gnawing on the muscle as I think of his statement. 

“But…but what if we get caught?” I question. 

I could imagine it. Baylen would see Chris and all hell would break loose. 

I doubt he’d cover for me, he’d probably enthusiastically go telling my mom the second she walks back into the house. 

Chris lets out a dry laugh. “Has he really ever bothered to check in your room? I mean, even if he does, I’ll just hide in your closet or something.”

“That’s kinda gay, bro,” I joke, gnawing on my lip as I hear Chris let out a fit of chuckles that make my heart echo in my ears. 

I love being able to do that. Hearing him laugh—making him laugh, it all feels so pure. It honestly feels as intimate as him in between my legs, just in a different type of way. 

Either are addicting. It was hard to miss only one or the other, I craved both. 

I wanted to feel the euphoric relief from his touch. I wanted to laugh with him to the point where I couldn’t think of anything except how bad my stomach cramped from giggling. 

I wanted everything and all of it—I just want him. 

It’s only been a bit over a week since we made things official, but god—I could feel emotions building so rapidly, so much that they felt like they were consuming every corner of my mind.

Some of it made me sick. 

I never felt this way with Ryan, my ex. The butterflies were there, but not to this extent—not to the point where I caught myself trying to imagine he was holding me in order to fall asleep. 

“Do you want me to come over and not?” Chris remarks, pulling me back to reality as his voice echoes through my phone. 

I bite back a sore smile, humming in approval, “Yes please.” 

___

It feels good like this. Every inch of my body is content, my limbs melted in his hold as I let myself breathe in the fresh air from the cracked window in my bedroom.

His hand is combing through my hair. I hear him clear his throat, his chest rumbling as he begins to speak, “So, um…I…I’ve really missed you.” he says—again.

My lips tug into an unrelenting smile. We’ve been cuddling for hours and he’s repeated the same statement at least ten times. 

It should be annoying, but it’s not. It makes me feel warm—it makes me feel a part of the moment, like every wave of the breeze is infiltrating the pores on my skin to ground me with a profound amount of peace. 

“I missed you too.” I reply, scratching my nails over his chest as I let out another hum of contentment. His lips press against the crown of my head, a lingering kiss placed on my scalp as I feel his warm breath tickle into my hair. 

It’s dark now. We should be tired, but we’re not. A short nap had rendered us a bit sad since we wanted to watch the sunset together, but it was okay since now we got to watch the night sky illuminate with a crescent moon and thousands of stars varying in vibrance. 

I wonder who’s watching. Maybe my dad is one of those stars, maybe he gets to see me finally living after all these years without him. 

The gap of his presence still aches in my heart, but it’s not as exhausting. A tiny splinter of a gap still remains in the pumping muscle, but it seems to be soothed by the added layers of security from Chris’ arms around me. 

“What’re you thinking about, pretty girl?” Chris asks, combing through my hair. 

I crane my head to stare up at him, sparing a soft smile as I give a slight shrug of my shoulders. “I just…” my words float into the air, unfinished as I gulp the lump in my throat that seems to build with how his eyes are piercing into me. “-I really like this. I…really like you…being here with me. It’s just–” 

Chris leans down, pressing the tip of his nose against my own as he blinks, his eyes lashes fluttering against my own with a ticklish sensation that makes a soft sigh fall from my lips. 

“-good. I’m glad you like it because I love it. You don’t understand how much I missed holding you, really,” he whispers, his breath fanning across my lips in a way that makes my stomach swarm with warm butterflies. “-this makes me so, so, so fuckin’ happy—holding my girl, in my arms—”

“You’re never gonna stop saying that, huh?” I tease, biting on my lip as his eyes open and gleam into my own.              

Chris purses his lips, shrugging. “Nah. Getting to call you my girl?” he puffs, his eyes going with before he offers a playful smile, “-could never get old to me. Makes me feel all….” he wraps his arms tighter around me, pulling a gasp from my mouth as he pulls my chest plush against his, “-warm.” 

Ugh. He feels the same way I do—maybe even more so. 

I let myself bathe in his stare, the reassurance of his gaze making me feel like moonlight—calm, radiate, and important. Part of me doesn’t wanna speak at all, the fear of this exact moment ending making my heart pulse in my chest with a sharp sting. 

But it’s okay. 

It’s okay because I know there will always be more moments like this with him. It’s okay because there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll ever let me feel anything less than cared for. 

Words linger on the tip of my tongue, words I know I shouldn’t say—not yet, at least.

But it’s true. I love him, I really, really do. I don’t know when the realization happened. Honestly, I think it might’ve been when we first met, like some sort of cautious feeling that was warning me of destiny. 

Chris licks over his lips, his smile fading into a serious look as he swallows thickly. “I…I know we haven’t been official for very long, but—I…I feel things for you, I feel so much it hurts,” he breaths. 

My breath halts in my chest, my ears ringing as my bones seem to vibrate inside my body. He feels it too. It’s like everything about us is connected, like everything is falling into place so effortlessly it feels like magic. 

“I…” The words fall flat on the tip of my tongue, my eyes glazing over with pure emotion as I let my eyes wander over his face.

It’s so comfortable. All I can hear is our hearts beating in sync, the way my entire soul is burning for me to say it—say everything. 

“I love you.”

My eyes widened in shock. The words had rambled off my tongue so rushed, the devotion hanging in the air with an accompanied echo of his own voice. 

“Oh.” 

Our words are still in sync. We both let out a small laugh, the giggles falling quiet as we just breath in each other’s presence. 

“I guess that wasn’t as scary as I was making it out to seem, huh?” he tuts. 

I shake my head, laughing under my breath as I shrug, “-I guess so.” 

___

Chris’ POV

I keep waking up. I’m not sure what time it is, but it’s like my body doesn’t want to sleep, even though I’m very comfortable, I just wanna look at her in my arms. 

The slight sound of crickets echoing with the cool night air makes me sigh. My eyes drift over to her nightstand, her empty water bottle catching my attention. She had jugged all of it and fell back asleep within an instant a while ago, waking up a bit later, disappointed to find the bottle empty. 

Maybe I should fill it for her.

Yeah.

Slowly sliding away, I wince hearing her let out a small whimper, reaching out for me as I stand up fully. Her eyes peek open. I pet over her shoulder, cooing, “-hey, go back to sleep—’m just gonna fill your water, okay?” 

She nods hazily, her eyes falling shut with a slight scowl printed on her face. 

God, she’s pretty.

My stomach flutters with warmth as I watch her bottom lip pout slightly, her arms reaching out and tugging the pillow that was beneath my head into her hold as she greedily takes a large breath.

Fuck.

She’s barely awake and she still wants me. 

With light steps, I carefully make my way out of her room, venturing through the halls in hopes of finding the kitchen. It doesn’t take long. I walk into the tiled room, the cold flooring against my feet making me miss the warmth of her touch. 

“Ugh,” I sigh, walking over to the sink and filling the bottle, trying to tilt the object to create as little noise as possible. 

My lips roll together, my mind racing with thoughts as I reminisce on earlier. I was so scared to tell her that I loved her, I was scared it was too soon, too much, or purely insane to feel so strongly when we only made things official a bit ago. 

But she said it at the same time, and somehow that was better than her saying it back. 

“Who the fuck?” 

My eyes go wide as I screw on the cap to the water bottle. I turn around, finding her brother with messy hair and sunken eyes staring at me with a scowl. 

Fuck. 

“Shit.” I mutter, squinting my eyes shut in hopes I’m just having a nightmare. 

But no. 

I open my eyes, he’s still there—closer. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he interrogates, his shoulders broadening as his nostrils flare with an angry huff. 

“I, uh,” I look towards the hallway, mentally cursing myself as I think of her getting in trouble because of me, “-I’m Chris. I’m…uh—”

I don’t get the chance to finish. Baylen’s eyes shift to the bottle in my hand, his tongue prodding on the side of his cheek as he shakes his head disappointedly. 

“What? Are you her boyfriend or something?” he asks, lips tugged into a straight line. 

Gulping, I nod. Surely me being her boyfriend is better than being a stranger breaking in, right?

“No.”

The fuck?

My brows furrow together at his statement. Baylen seems to analyze the confusion on my face, shrugging as he repeats the words with a more tense voice, “-I said no.” 

“What? No? Hate to break it to you, but that’s not really your decision.” I point. 

No wonder she can’t get along with him, he’s a prick. He barely acts like a brother, yet he’s trying to dictate our relationship? 

Fuck that. I’ve done more for her than he has with a fraction of the time. 

I mean, how hard is it to be there for his sister? 

After losing my mom and Nick, no matter how distant or hurt I was, I still hugged Matt when he needed it. I might’ve grown distant, but I never grew heartless.

Baylen couldn’t even suck it up to play video games with her. 

His face contorts with distaste. I let out an angry sigh, my eyes rolling while he let out a scoff. 

“She’s my sister. I’m the one who gets to look out for her, not some guy she’s known for what, a couple months?” he remarks, a slight snort echoing at the end of his sentence. 

His words seem to make my heart pummel against my chest with rage, the statement making my blood boil as I lick over my teeth. “Look out for her? You can’t even sit down and play a video game with her for more than five minutes. Just…” I shake my head, watching as his face shifts into shock before the fury in his eyes starts to become more intense, “-it’s whatever.” 

Baylen clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, shaking his head, “Shut the fuck up. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

My nose twitches, my eyes squint as my jaw becomes tight. Who the fuck does he think he’s talking to? 

“Oh, I have no idea what I’m talking about?” I huff, my brows lifting as I let out a dry laugh, “-no, you have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re an awful fucking brother, you have no say in anything when you’re treating her like…like a fucking dick.” 

His jaw clicks. Baylen stalks forward, his hands twisting in the collar of my shirt as he yanks me to the side, pushing me against the wall as his eyes glare into me, the anger radiating off of him making the ache in my head from the impact seem less apparent as I drop the water bottle and clutch onto his wrists, trying to yank him off of me. The loud clunk of the bottle hitting the ground makes me wince. I huff at his unrelenting grip, taking a heavy sigh as I try to calm the pulsing anger in my body. 

I can’t hit him. She cares about him—even if he hurts her, I know that would make her upset.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeats, his voice dangerously low as he pushes me harder against the wall.  

“You abandoned her when she needed you most. What kind of brother does that?” I spit, the emotions in my voice leaking with a bit of hypocrisy. 

I wasn’t always the best when it came to comforting Matt after my mom and Nick had died, but at least I came around. Someone had to knock some sense into me—that someone being my dad, but it didn’t seem like anyone was ever gonna set Baylen straight. 

“You—you don’t get it. Stop. Just—just shut up,” he yells, shoving me even harder as I feel the back of my head pulse. 

“I do. Just…ow, fuck—” I hiss, the pain becoming evidentally apparent as my skull aches, “-I lost some of my family. Someone had to knock some sense into me. She—she’s your sister, you both lost your dad, she’s hurting and—shit.” 

It fucking hurts. The back of my head is pulsing, an echoing pain bursting through my forehead as I try to move, only to have him shove me harder. 

“I didn’t lose anyone. You…you don’t understand.” 

My eyes peak open, curiosity accompanied by pain as I hear a slight crack in his voice. His face drops with sadness, the anger fleeting into some sort of sullen emotion as he swallows thickly. 

“You…you don’t understand. That man—he’s not my father. He’s a sick excuse of a man that traumatized her and she doesn’t even fucking remember,” he spits. 

“I…what?” I breathe, my chest tightening as Baylen loosens his grip around the collar of my shirt, his lower lip wobbling. 

“I’m never supposed to tell her. I…I have to hear her mourn a man who would…who’s the reason she’d have to sneak into my room—he’s the reason she could never make it through the night without having an accident. Something was wrong—everything was wrong.” 

“What—what’re you saying?” I ask, my mouth falling open as I let my hands fall from his wrists. 

Baylen’s eyes sink with sadness, his cheek hollowing as he gulps. “She wasn’t potty trained for a long time. At first, I didn’t get it. But…but…he was touching her, her body was showing all the signs of sexual assault, but I was just a kid, I didn’t…I—by the time I understood what had happened, it—it was too late. Now I have to hear her mourn a man who is the reason I feel—he’s…he’s the reason I can’t comfort her, he’s the reason I can’t look at her,” he says, his head tilting as his face scrunches with pain;

“He’s the reason I hate myself—the reason I can’t let myself get close to her without seeing how much of a failure I am.” 

Oh.

[flowerywoso]

the babysitter || irene paredes x reader

Summary: You've had a thing for Irene ever since you started babysitting for her. When she comes home after a night out with the team, you realize that your feelings might not be as one-sided as you thought they were. Pairing: Irene Paredes x Reader Words: 3,992 Warnings: 🔞, smut with plot Notes: I haven't written anything in quite awhile (I honestly wasn't planning on writing ever again but here we are), so this might be a little rough! Please don't hesitate to let me know (politely, please!) if you notice any horrible grammatical errors or notes to myself that I somehow forgot to take out. Do not post my works on Ao3. And I am horrible at titles.

You peek your head into the room once more, carefully easing the door open and, just as quickly, shut, once you determine that the toddler is definitely still asleep. It’s a habit you adopted after your friends began to have their own children, and one you’ve maintained for the kids you babysit. Tiptoeing back down the hallway, making sure to keep your footfalls as quiet as you can, you plop back down on the sofa, settling into the corner and taking a sip of your sparkling water, grabbing your novel and flipping it back open as you wait for the boy’s mother to return home.

It’s not that much later, only long enough for you to finish a single chapter of your book, before you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, announcing Irene’s return from the Barcelona squad’s night out. You don’t get up from the couch, merely setting your novel aside and uncrossing your legs, letting one dangle off the cushions.

She enters the room quietly, the low heels she’d left the apartment in abandoned on the mat by the front door so they don’t click on the wood floors, and when you look up you can see the flush on her face. You're not sure if it's the result of the chilly evening air or of her night out, but either way it's enough to make you swallow around a lump in your throat. The top and pants she'd left the house in are just as enticing now as they were several hours ago, and you wonder as she walks further into the apartment how you manage to stay sane around her.

“Hola,” she says quietly, setting her purse down in the center of the coffee table and taking a seat beside you on the sofa, sighing in relief as she relaxes into the cushions after a long night out. Your heart, as it so often does in the presence of the older woman, skips a beat as she comes nearer to you.

“How was everything?”

“All good,” you reply, beginning to recount your evening with Mateo. As always, the toddler had been easy, listening to you as well as one could expect a two-year-old to, and had fallen asleep on the sofa halfway through an episode of Bluey, only stirring briefly when you carried him to bed.

“He ate most of his dinner,” you relay with a smile, shaking your head at the memory of how the toddler had wrinkled his nose at the "yucky green" you'd provided for him, far more enthusiastic about the special treat that was the chicken nuggets unearthed from the freezer. “We had a bit of a struggle with the veggies, but other than that he was a perfect angel, like always.”

Your words bring a smile to the older woman’s face, and you can’t help but stop in your tracks for a moment, transfixed by the way her lips perk upwards, faint lines around her eyes becoming visible. You’ve seen her take an extra minute in the bathroom more than once after you arrive in the evenings, trying to conceal the bags beneath her eyes or the smile lines beginning to form at the corners, but you think that each and every part of her face is a work of art. 

You had no idea, when you first started babysitting for her, just how quickly your feelings for the older woman would grow. In the stolen moments at the beginning and end of the nights, before one of you walks out the door, you've learned more and more about Irene Paredes the person, not just the footballer, and something about her kept drawing you further and further in. You couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but you knew that you wanted her.

“Did you have a good night?”

Irene shrugs, shaking her head with a fond smile as she tells you about the Barcelona squad’s night out. She had mostly stayed on the sidelines alongside the other older players, keeping an eye on the girls closer to your own age as they enjoyed themselves, but Pina and Cata had managed to coax her and Alexia into having a drink and dance before she had excused herself.

The thought of Irene on the dance floor makes your heart pound, imagination beginning to run wild.

You’ve never been to Manuela’s, but from the way you’ve heard Irene describe it, there's absolutely no shortage of beautiful women. You know from the bits of information she’s given you that the Barcelona girls normally stick with one another, even while they’re out, but you’ve never been able to help yourself from wondering if any of the beautiful girls who frequent the club have tempted her enough that she’s taken one of them to her bed.

It's that thought, the unpleasant idea of her tangled between the sheets with a nameless, faceless girl from the club that makes your chest hurt. Before you fully notice what you're doing, you open your mouth and begin to speak, some jumbled mixture of thoughts spilling from between your traitorous lips.

"I mean if... If you ever wanted to stay out later... If someone..."

You trail off, clamping your lips shut as you realize just how inappropriate what you're implying is. You cringe, cursing yourself as you watch for her reaction, wait for her to get up off the couch and hand you your bags, let you know that now might be a good time for you to go home.

But she doesn't. Instead, all the older woman does is fix you with a questioning gaze, seemingly losing herself in thought for a moment.

She’s seated closer to you than she normally would be, than she ever has been before, and for a moment you wonder if she can hear your heart as it pounds in your chest, speeding up as she enters your space. You aren’t sure if it’s your imagination, the way her eyes seem to have fixed on you, tracing the details of your flushing face, eyes following your bottom lip as you nervously run your teeth over it.

“No,” she says at last. “None of the girls there have ever been who I wanted.”

Something about the word there catches your attention as it leaves her mouth, and you're certain that you must be losing your mind. Because there's no way, no way in the world that she wants you the way you want her.

The older woman reaches out and brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you’re fairly certain that you’ve stopped breathing. Her hand pauses by your left cheek, which you're absolutely certain is flushing redder than the cap on her cherry flavored chapstick.

And suddenly, before you can even fully process the fact that her soft but strong hands are cupping your scarlet cheeks, the older woman is leaning forward and pressing her lips to yours.

You must have imagined this moment a thousand times, but never in your wildest dreams had you imagined it would actually come true. The older woman’s mouth is soft but insistent against your own, exploring your lips with hers, and every coherent thought you’ve ever had is a distant memory as you move with her, kissing her back.

Kissing Irene is even better than you imagined it would be - and you could fill a planner with the amount of times you’ve imagined this exact scenario. Her mouth is gentle, but there’s an edge to her kiss that contains a promise, the knowledge that she’s capable of being anything but.

When your lips finally part, after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, you let out a little gasp, pupils blown wide as Irene stares into your eyes, both of you trying to process what has just happened. Even though she’s the one who kissed you first, Irene seems just as shocked as you are. But, behind her wide eyes is the same feeling you know she can easily spot in your own.

Desire.

“I… Fuck.”

You’re the one who leans forward this time, lips pressing against the older woman’s, the faint flavor of alcohol on her lips mixed with a hint of cherry from the chapstick you’ve seen her spread across her mouth more than once. The taste of her lips is intoxicating, and you can feel it going straight between your legs.

This kiss is deeper than the first, your arms wrapping around her strong shoulders to pull her closer, wanting to feel her body against your own. You part momentarily, gasping for air and only managing a brief breath before she’s kissing you again, every movement raising the stakes. You whine as her lips meet yours once more, hands coming to rest on your hips, pulling you closer. The older woman uses her own lips to pry yours open, her claiming tongue slipping into your mouth and beginning to explore further.

You let her take control of the kiss without protest, the arousal between your thighs intensifying exponentially with every second her body spends this close to your own. 

“Fuck,” she gasps, breaking away from your lips only long enough to grunt in your ear. “Fuck, I want you so badly.”

All you can do is nod, shaking your head up and down in agreement, because you don’t think you’ve ever wanted another person this badly in your entire life. 

“Irene,” you whine, pressing impossibly closer to her. “Please.” 

“Can I touch you?”

You’re nodding again before the question has even fully left her lips, and the older woman’s pupils go dark with how eager she is for you. She kisses you again, her football player’s strength showing as she pushes you backward onto the sofa, hands working their way up under your shirt. She doesn’t bother with the clasp of your bra, instead slipping her hands beneath the fabric to cup your breasts. Separating her lips from yours with a low groan, Irene immediately begins tracing a path over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a further wave of shivers up and down your spine. You moan quietly, remembering that you two aren’t alone in the apartment, but tilt your head anyway, granting her better access to your throat.

Advantage is rapidly taken, the Barcelona player letting a hint of teeth scrape across the delicate flesh of your throat as she rolls one of your nipples between her fingers, moaning quietly at the way you arch, pressing your chest further into her touch. 

Your nipples aren’t normally this sensitive, but something about the way Irene rolls and tugs at them makes the two buds feel as if they’re direct links to your most sensitive spot. Her touch is magical, and all you want is more.

As if the older woman can read your mind, the hand not busy exploring your chest slides further down, slipping under your black leggings and making you gasp, bringing a hand up to muffle your own sounds as long fingers begin to rub at your pussy over your panties. 

There’s far too much fabric between the two of you, and every thread feels like a cage. You need it off, need the last bits of separation between your heat and her touch gone, now. 

“Off,” Irene commands and, needing the barrier gone just as badly as you do, she doesn’t wait for you to obey before she’s hooking her own fingers in the waistband of your leggings, yanking them down over your legs. Your panties are removed in the same motion, both pieces of fabric coming to rest at your ankles. You try to kick them fully off, but only manage to completely free one leg before the older woman is pushing her way between your thighs, eagerly beginning to explore your bare pussy.

Her experience is clear from the first touch of her slender fingers against your naked heat, and you can’t help but press closer, spreading your legs further to give her better access. The older woman draws in a sharp breath as she circles your clit gently with one finger, exploring, watching for your reactions, the others gathering the rapidly accumulating wetness at your entrance. Irene's touch is electric, and the older woman finds herself becoming rapidly obsessed with the way your clit seems to plead for her touch.

With two of her fingers, Irene traces the outline of your pussy, hyper aware of just how wet you are, how your hole is begging silently for her fingers inside as she continues to rub your clit.

You let your eyes fall shut, eagerly anticipating just how good it will feel when the fingers you can sense lingering just shy of your entrance finally slide home, burying themselves inside your welcoming cunt. You’re practically pulsing with it, with how badly you need her inside, need to know just how she’ll fill you, what previously unknown spots inside the tips of her long fingers will be able to brush.

“Where do you want my fingers, bebita?” 

You whine, shifting your hips in an attempt to get even closer to her, to get her to slide her fingers into your throbbing heat. The digits, wet from your own slick, only withdraw further away from your needy hole, and you nearly sob with how badly you need the older woman, need her touch. 

Obvious as it may be, this nonverbal expression of how desperate you are for her to take you isn’t enough to satisfy the older woman, and she rubs your inner thigh soothingly. 

“Use your words, baby,” she coaxes. “Tell me where you need my fingers.”

The idea of using your words seems borderline impossible at the moment, your brain simply too overwhelmed with the reality of just how close her fingers are to slipping inside, but you can tell that you won’t get what you need until you do.

“My pussy,” you manage to whine, trying to stay as quiet as possible while pulsing with the need for her. “Please, Irene, I need your fingers in my cunt.”

Your words, base and simple as they are, are enough to get you what you need, and when Irene finally slides her fingers home, you can’t conceal the moan that tears its way free from your throat. You’re wet enough that the stretch of going from zero to two fingers inside your cunt brings nothing but pleasure, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from moaning aloud when you feel the ridges of her fingers settle against your walls, the older woman pausing for a moment to let you adjust to the feeling of her digits inside.

Irene has to swallow a wrecked noise of her own as she finally slides her fingers inside your soaking pussy, the sensation of your silky walls against her skin sending her brain into overdrive. The sound of your voice, desperation tinging your whispers as you plead for her to move, to fuck you, is absolute music to her ears, and she doesn’t hesitate to comply with the enticing request. 

Her pace is slow at first as she starts to move, the older woman eagerly exploring every curve and contour of your cunt, leaking around her fingers. It’s so warm and inviting, and the older woman has no idea how she’s lasted this long without knowing what feel like inside.

Once she’s sure you’ve fully adjusted to the stretch of her digits inside of you, Irene speeds up her thrusts, curling her fingers in search of the most sensitive spots hidden inside your pretty cunt. 

It’s clear when she finds what she’s looking for, because your cunt clenches down around her fingers and you squeeze your pretty eyes shut as pleasure rocks your body. 

“Oh,” she says, voice a whisper that tickles your ear and makes you shudder happily. “Is that where you need me?”

You nod desperately, the entirety of your reality reduced to the sensation of her fingers against the sensitive tissue inside you, stroking it insistently as her thumb comes to brush against your swollen clit. As she fucks you with her fingers, the older woman tests out different motions on your bud with her thumb, searching for the pattern and pace to take what’s left of your breath away. 

You can’t help but let out a cry as she presses a little harder, circling your needy clit at just the right angle. Irene quickly presses her lips to yours again, reminding you that you’re not alone in the apartment.

“Shh,” the older woman says, swallowing your noises with her own tongue, collecting each one. “You’ve still gotta be quiet for me, bebita.”

You nod in understanding, kissing her back desperately, bringing a hand up to tangle in her hair. You can be quiet, no matter how good it feels, you can be quiet, just so long as she doesn’t stop what she’s doing between your legs. Irene chuckles against your lips, redoubling her efforts between your legs. Her talented fingers thrust in and out of your pussy, each time hitting the spot that makes you see stars.

“That’s it, baby,” she whispers, lips right beside your ear. “That’s it, take it for me. Take it, just like that.”

You toss your head back, more than willing to comply. Every cell of your body feels like it’s on fire, and you want nothing more than for the burning to consume you completely. 

Your orgasm arrives without warning, Irene’s thumb on your swollen clit combined with her talented fingers inside your cunt sending you crashing over the edge with a fury you haven’t felt in a long time. You have to bite down on your lip to keep in your sounds as your it overwhelms you, nails digging into Irene’s bare shoulders. You can feel the older woman’s smile as she kisses your neck, fingers still moving gently inside you, working you through your climax, helping you ride it for as long as you can.

You shudder, aftershocks still shaking your body as you begin to come down from your peak. She slides her fingers out and you bite down on your kiss-swollen lip to keep yourself from whining at the loss. It takes another minute before you're able to gather yourself, fully opening your eyes and taking in the sight of the gorgeous older woman above you.

Irene presses another kiss to your lips, this one gentle, and you can feel the smile on her face as you give a final shudder, sitting up and leaning into her.

"How was that, bebita?"

"Fucking perfect," you reply, unable to conceal a grin of your own as you note how flushed her face still is. Knowing that touching you has her seemingly almost as worked up as you are sends a thrill through your body and you reach for the button of her jeans, aiming to return the favor, only for the same pair of hands that had just brought you to such an incredible orgasm to push yours down, Irene’s lips brushing against your forehead.

“Don’t you worry about me, baby,” she says, and you feel your heart sink with sudden disappointment.

“Are you sure?”

Irene wraps an arm around you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, clearly oblivious to the way your shoulders sink. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I promise. Don’t worry about me.”

You blush, wanting to protest that getting to touch her would be just about the furthest thing away from a worry- dream or fantasy come to life would be a more accurate description- but a sudden wave of shyness overcomes you, the whiplash of going from the high of your orgasm to the valley of being denied an opportunity to make Irene feel as good as she’s just made you feel making your throat close up.

“O-Oh,” you say quietly. “Okay. I just…”

You trail off, not sure what to say to that. It feels like, without meaning to or realizing what she’s done, the Barcelona defender has just tossed a bucket of ice water over you.

“I… I guess I should head home then,” you say quietly, trying not to let her hear the hurt in your voice, reaching down and pulling your leggings back up over your calves and thighs until they rest around your middle. Your panties aren’t quite soaked, for the pure fact that they had been around your ankles soon after her lips first met yours, but they’re still wet enough that putting them back on isn’t exactly comfortable. 

And more than that, you don’t want to leave. Your body is still purring with the aftermath of your orgasm, the last thing you want to do right now is leave her apartment and walk the few blocks home to your own. The route between your apartment and Irene’s is one you know well, lit with plenty of streetlamps and well-frequented on a Saturday night, so any anxiety you might feel can be connected purely to leaving her after what’s just happened, without being certain where you stand. 

Irene opens her mouth and you pause with your hand on the knob, waiting, hoping that she’ll say something, offer her bed to share for the night. 

“Let me know when you get home safe,” she says quietly, and you can’t help the way your chest clenches with a strange sort of pain. You hadn’t really expected her to offer for you to stay, not with the amount of eyes that could be watching someone like her at any given moment, but you still can’t help but wish she had.

You nod in response to her question, clutching your bag close to your side as you shut the door behind yourself, beginning the short walk home.

...

“Fuck.”

The second the door shuts behind you, the defender wishes she could throw it open again and call you back in.

She had wanted to, especially after watching you come apart under her touch, seeing how pretty you looked as your orgasm overwhelmed you. The words had been on the tip of her tongue, but you had beaten her to it, reaching for the door handle and exiling yourself before she could even offer, and she hadn’t offered any protests. 

Peeking in the door, ensuring that Mateo is still safe and sound in his bed, the Barcelona player tiptoes quietly down the hall, two doors down, and pushes her own door open and shut behind her.

As she pulls off her top, letting it fall to the floor, quickly followed by her pants and bra, Irene curses herself, pulling back the covers and slipping into the too-big bed on her own. It feels cold compared to the contrast of your warm body against her own, and her chest pangs with the regret of not asking you to stay the night. 

Back in your own apartment, you slide beneath your own covers, mind racing at a million miles an hour.

No matter how your chest might ache at the fact that you’re here, alone in your own bed, the memory of the older woman’s lips on yours, of her talented fingers bringing you to orgasm right there on the sofa, of muffling your moans in her shoulder, still sends a familiar jolt of electricity between your thighs. With a soft whine, you reach for your the bedside drawer where you keep your vibrator, turning it up before pressing it against your still-swollen clit.

Blocks away, Irene is doing the same, quietly gasping out a much-needed orgasm with your name on her lips, the memory of your mouth on hers and your silken flesh beneath her fingertips sending her over the edge.

As the older woman drifts off into an uneasy slumber, the space beside her conspicuously empty, she knows that, now she's had you once, she won't ever be able to get enough.

[seijorhi]

Violent Delights

for my very dearest best friend (wife) @iwaasfairy i'm sorry it's super late, but august and april both start with 'a' which basically means they're the same month <33 iwaizumi hajime x female reader w.c 4.4k tw: yandere themes, non-con, drugged reader, blood/gore, murder, incest, sorta smut (nsfw)

M I N E

It’s funny in a way. Amidst the wreckage, the blood, what was left of your friends and the cooling puddle of cum splattered across your naked stomach, four letters carved into your bedroom wall seemed almost… harmless. Or at least the easiest to digest. Fixate on.

The detective asked about your ex partners, the dates you’d been on recently, whether or not you’d noticed anyone in your day-to-day paying you too much attention, if anyone made you feel uncomfortable, or said anything that seemed out of place.

But your exes don’t care enough to kill, and the two dates you’ve been on in the last six months never bothered to text you back. No one’s left weird, unsettling gifts, or stared too long in line at the coffee shop. There’s nothing. No precursor or warning, no giant red flag waving in front of you.

Mine. 

Hovering on the edge of numbness, blind hysteria just out of reach, you stare at the beige walls of the hotel room they’d put you up in, the angry gouges flickering in and out of existence with every blink. 

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

Kaori was the one obsessed with all the true crime stuff. She’d be the first to tell you psychopaths and nutjobs – they don’t jump straight into drugging and triple homicide. There’s a pattern of behaviour. Escalation. 

Something you missed. 

Then again, considering it’s her blood still caked under your fingernails, there’s a strong possibility she wouldn’t be all that enthusiastic about the whole thing to begin with. 

You need a shower, a proper one – not the glorified sponging off they’d given you at the hospital. Enough to get you out the door, not nearly enough to scrub away the grime and rid yourself of what he did to you–

The others had it worse. You survived. He barely touched you.

Mine. 

The thought of scalding water, of scrubbing yourself raw does hold a certain appeal, yet hunched over atop starched white sheets, those same bloody fingernails sink into the flesh of your arms instead, grounding you in the tiny bite of pain. 

Minutes tick past and you don’t so much as twitch. Not until a sharp knock sounds at the door and a gruff voice calls out your name. 

You wait half a beat, but when nothing more is forthcoming, you slowly edge yourself off the bed, making your way to the door. Through the peephole you spy a dark haired officer, different to the one who’d dropped you off, staring back at you. 

They did tell you there’d be an officer with you the whole time, at least for the next twenty four hours. 

“Miss?” he calls again, and you distantly realise that while your hand is poised over the deadlock, you haven’t moved to undo it. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, your forehead meeting the wooden door with a muted thud, you curse that stupid, tremulous fluttering in your chest. They’re here for you, protecting you. You’re safe.

Open the damn door. 

“Y-yeah?”

Coward.

“Brought some food for you. Dinner.” There’s a rustling on the other side, and you raise your head to peer back through the glass in time to see him lift up a paper carry bag to the peephole. The idea of eating anything right now has your stomach roiling in protest. “Nothing fancy, but it’s good, I swear,” he says. Then, gentler, like he’s talking down a spooked animal, adds, “You need to eat.”

Still, you hesitate. All you need to do is open the door, grab the food and then at least it’s there if you want it later. Easy. 

Too quick, too jerky to be natural, you twist at the handle and yank the door open a scant few inches, enough for you to reach out an arm expectantly for the food. “Thank you,” you pre-empt, because hungry or not, you’re not completely without manners.

The officer lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah, no. I’m not taking heat from the Cap when the guys on the next shift find you passed out ‘cause you haven’t eaten anything,” he scoffs. “C’mon, we can talk while you eat.” Not a suggestion – you barely have time to stumble back before he’s pushing his way inside and kicking the door closed behind him. The second he takes to flick the lock somehow simultaneously eases the knots in your stomach and sends your heartrate ratcheting.

It’s halfway to a miracle that you’re still standing at all. 

“Eat,” he tells you, his deep voice brooking no disagreement as he shoves the bag of food your way and grabs the lone chair in the room, dragging it closer to the edge of the bed and settling himself down. Clearly he has no intention of going anywhere until he’s satisfied you’ve eaten your fill.

With little else for it, you do as you’re told, reaching into the bag to find steamed buns at your fingertips, still warm as you pry open the wrapper– and wince. The familiar scent of pork, ginger and chives wafts through the air, unwittingly digging at old wounds. 

Suddenly you’re a kid again, strolling down the hill with your family, one hand tucked safely within your brother’s, the other grasping a steaming hot bun. You’re happy and whole and so, so young–

“Something wrong? You don’t like meat buns?” 

Not the time. Ignoring the bitter ache the memory conjures, you’re quick to shake your head, “No. No, thank you. It’s great.” You doubt he buys it, but then again you also doubt he cares so long as you get something in your stomach. 

One bite, chew, swallow. Another, chew, swallow – mechanical until it isn’t. The first bun disappears and you reach for the second.

“How’s your head?” he asks.

You swallow down another mouthful. “Fuzzy. Sore. I still can’t remember anything,” you  admit, in case that’s where this line of questioning is going. Nothing beyond waking up in your bed covered in blood and a stranger’s cum at any rate.

The blood work they did at the hospital confirmed you were drugged along with the others, the detective mentioning the near-empty bottle of wine they’d found, which they were in the process of testing too. He’d also pointed out the lack of evidence indicating any kind of forced entry, which paired with the former is something you’ve been trying not to dwell on. 

The officer gives a considering nod, “That’s to be expected, don’t worry about it. I still think it’s worth asking a few more questions if you’re feeling up to it?” Again, it’s phrased like a question, but already he’s pulling out a voice recorder, setting down on the mattress between you. 

“Um, sure. Yeah,” you croak. 

A small smile, “Good.” He leans forward to switch on the recorder. “We’ll start with the other victims – your friends. Tell me about them.”

“Kaori, she’s– she was my best friend. We worked at the same grocer when I first moved out of my parents’ place, when I got a job here she made the decision to move with me. That was about six months ago.” 

“And the other two?” 

“Her brother Koji and another friend of ours Takashi. They came up to visit; Kaori’s been back once or twice since we left, but I hadn’t seen them–” tears blur at your vision and your voice just… gives out. 

They’re gone. 

You drag a shuddering breath in and it hurts. 

Blindly, your hand reaches across the bed, blood tipped fingers sprawling over pristine white, and when they meet warmth – an open palm outstretched – you seize it and cling on with everything you have. You’ll unravel if you don’t.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you chant, each syllable shakier than the last.

He dips his chin, just barely, and squeezes your hand, “You invited them?”

A wordless, wide eyed nod. 

“You were close.” Not a question. He sounds like he’s mulling over the thought, though his expression is inscrutable. “Were you involved with any of them?”

This time, there’s the slightest hesitation before you shake your head. The officer frowns, “I need the truth. Your friends were attacked for a reason. Lying to me won’t help bring their families peace.”

The blood drains from your face, your heart lurching on a sickening thud. 

Your fault. 

Instinctively, you yank back your hand, or try to at least, but his grip tightens – enough to keep you from drawing away, not enough to hurt. Though neither his tone nor his expression hold any condemnation, it doesn’t change the truth of the matter. 

You didn’t drug them or pick up the knife and swing. You didn’t invite this psycho into your life, but the fact remains that they’re dead because of you. 

“I– it wasn’t like that. We weren’t… I didn’t–” 

MINE.

Tears threaten to spill and your bottom lip trembles. 

For a long, drawn out moment, he simply stares. There’s a twitch at his jaw and he sighs – more of a grunt, really – leaning back and pulling his hand from yours to rake through his dark hair. 

(Stupid, you think, how some part of you mourns the loss.) 

“Okay, alright. Fine. We’ll come back to that,” he concedes. “What about other friends? Coworkers you were close with?”

“No, I– I already told the detective I wasn’t seeing anyone.”

An irritated flash darkens his gaze. “I didn’t ask if you were fucking them.” And you must make a truly pathetic picture then, flinching like a kicked puppy, because he lets out another huff, closing his eyes for a beat and visibly working to soften the harsh lines of his expression. “Shit, okay– I’m sorry. It’s been a long day for us both,” he makes an odd noise, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, the sound entirely devoid of humour. “The guy who did this, he either already knows about the people precious to you, or he’s gonna do his damn best to find out, and if he thinks they’re threats, he’ll hurt them, or worse – he’ll use them to hurt you. I need you to tell me everything.”

And so, feeling the exhaustion of the day creeping over you, you do.

You tell him about the small group from work you occasionally go out for Friday drinks with, your old friends from uni, right down to the neighbour two floors below, who’d seen you hauling boxes the day you’d moved in and immediately offered to help. When you’d christened the kitchen baking you’d made sure to bring him some, and just last week you’d had tea with him and his grandma.

“What about school? Anyone you still keep in contact with?”

You try for a laugh but it sounds all wrong. “I wasn’t exactly popular back then,” 

His eyes narrow. They flit across your face like he’s searching for… something. You feel like a bug, pinned in place, squirming and uncomfortable, your face too hot. 

“Bullied?” he probes. 

Another nod. 

“How ‘bout family?”

Your mouth dries.

“My parents… I haven’t spoken to them in months. We don’t really get along.” The last conversation you’d had with them, if you could call it as much, lasted all of five minutes. Dry pleasantries and thinly veiled criticisms, wrapped up in yet another pointed reminder that things didn’t have to be this way – you were the one adamant on shutting them out. 

You doubt it’d raise a single eyebrow between them if you went the same again without contact. 

“Siblings?”

Another tear slips from your lashes and you swallow against the tight lump in your throat. The weight of his gaze feels oppressive, you’re too bare, too vulnerable, you don’t want to talk about this, so you shift your line of sight to the paper delivery bag, half crumpled now, and let your fingernails sink into the skin of your palms. 

Still, the words don’t come straight away, and when they do, they’re strained. Choked. Painted so thick is grief that you wonder if he understands them at all.

“No. I uh, I had a brother– a twin brother. He died.” 

You don’t talk about your brother, ever.

Kaori knew the bare bones of it. Koji and Takashi too – you had a twin brother, he died, and it fucked you up. Without ever uttering a word, they’d known not to press, that the wounds left behind weren’t quite as healed as the scar tissue led to believe. 

“How old were you?”

Seven, when you lost him. Twelve, when the letters stopped coming. 

“Fourteen,” you whisper, curling in on yourself. “He was sick.”

Stop asking, stop talking, stop, stop, stop. 

When you risk a look in the officer’s direction, his features are hewn granite, eyes set in a hard, angry glare that steals the very breath from your lungs. “Yeah?” he grunts, rising to his feet. “You stopped writing long before that.”

There’s just enough time for understanding to crash over you, for your lips to part, a feather light gasp of “Hajime?” to slip out before you’re flat on your back, wrists pinned to the mattress above your head, the officer– a ghost– Hajime looming over you. 

“What did I fucking tell you?”  

—

‘Sweetie, make sure you hold your brother’s hand.’

They’d meant when you were walking home from the bus stop, or crossing the road. When there was a buddy system so no one got separated or left behind. 

Hajime was always holding your hand. Not because your parents told him to, but because that’s how it was supposed to be. You were twins, he’d been born first (by all of six minutes) and you had followed. You were always following Hajime, and he was always going to look after you. 

Until he gets put into the Otter class with Mr Inagaki, and you go into Dugong with Miss Ino. 

Hajime’s nothing short of enraged. He throws chairs and yells and tries to kick the Principal, but it doesn’t change anything.

It would be good for you, they said, to have a chance to make other friends. ‘You can’t keep using your brother as a crutch, honey,’ your mother gently admonishes. 

Hajime scowls at that. Later, when it’s just the two of you hiding away in his room, he tells you she’s an idiot and a liar. ‘You don’t need anyone else. You have me.’

You knew that. You’d always have Hajime, but the other kids in your class weren’t as awful as he made them sound. Some of them were actually kind of cool, and they liked you, too.

For a while, you began to believe you could have both; Hajime and your new friends. 

Until one day you’re waiting for him at lunch when a boy from your class tugs on your braids and with a wide, toothy grin, loudly proclaims to the whole playground that even though you were a girl, and girls have cooties, it’d probably be okay if you wanted to be his girlfriend. 

You didn’t see Hajime coming up behind you. You’ve no idea where he found the scissors. The only warning either of you get is a sudden, splitting roar before he’s throwing himself at the smaller boy, tackling him to the ground. 

‘She’s MINE!’

Silver glints, flashing in the sunlight, and a high pitched shriek rips through the playground as he brings the scissors down on the poor, struggling boy. 

With a viciousness you’d never known of your brother, he swings again and again. It’s chaos. The other kids scatter and the teachers run to intervene. Hajime, spitting and snarling, red in the face and half-feral, doesn’t stop for them.

He stops for you. 

At the sound of a sharp little gasp, a line of red slashed along your forearm, Hajime stops dead, wide, horrified eyes fixed on yours.

—

‘Sweetie, what have I told you about snooping? I raised you better than that.’

‘But they’re addressed to me. Hajime wrote to me.’

‘Your brother’s not well, those letters– they’ll only upset you. I don’t want you reading them.’

‘… He says he misses me.’

‘I know, but he’s where he belongs, getting help. You want that for him, don’t you? To get the help he needs?’

‘I want to write back to him.’

—

There’s another letter waiting for you when you get home from school.

You hang your backpack near the door, still damp from being tossed in the pool, and eye the opened envelope sitting by your father. He doesn’t look up from his laptop when you reach for it, doesn’t lift a finger to stop you. Nevertheless, the displeasure radiates from him clear as day. 

“You shouldn’t encourage him. He’s not well.”

You’d scoff if it wouldn’t get you in trouble. Nothing you said could ever be taken as ‘encouragement’, and you’re under no illusions about who and what your brother is. 

The violence terrifies you. Sometimes he says things in the letters he writes that make your stomach all twisty and your palms sweat, but Hajime could be a monster, and you think you’d love him anyway. You wouldn’t have a choice. 

So you pluck at the envelope and tuck it close, making your way to your room without another glance at either of your parents. Sitting cross legged atop your bed, you eagerly scan the contents;

He hates the new therapist. They had a movie night planned, but some asshole started a fight and the whole thing got cancelled. The food’s still shit. He’s fed up and pissed off, whether he behaves or not, they won’t let him out and they won’t give him what he wants, so what’s the point in pretending?

The both of you turn twelve in ten days time – you owe it to him to come spend it together. 

—

‘Maybe it’s for the best, sweetheart.’

Dismissive. She’s always dismissive. Your hands curl in response, tightening before you force yourself to flex them out and bite your tongue. It’s not worth the fight. Neither one of them actually care, and nothing you say will ever change that. 

He’s angry at you. Or hurt. Both, probably. 

They wouldn’t let you visit. You’d begged – cried, even – and it hadn’t swayed them. The rules are that you aren’t allowed to go and see Hajime and you aren’t allowed to talk to him on the phone. The letters are the only communication you have, and when your twelfth birthday comes and goes, those stop too.

You’ve sent four letters since, no response. 

He’s shut you out entirely and while you can’t blame him for it, it’s painful.

You’ve always had Hajime, through everything. Him shutting you out feels like losing a limb– 

No, it’s more than that. It’s like slowly losing some vital function inside of you. Like your lungs are shutting down and you can’t breathe properly and your heart isn’t pumping the way it should. You feel guilty and horrible and at least twice, you debate trying to find a way to sneak out and make the two hour journey on your own, just so you can see him.

It’s a stupid idea, they wouldn’t even let you through the front door, but it’s the only idea you have and so you cling to it.

You keep writing to him– panicked. Desperate. Begging his forgiveness. 

He never writes back.

—

They sit you down at breakfast three months after your fourteenth birthday and tell you Hajime’s gone.

There was another fight, someone pushed him–

You don’t want to hear the details. They don’t matter and your ears are ringing too loud to make sense of them anyway.

Hajime is gone.

The cord between you was stretched and fraying already. He hadn’t written in over two years and probably hated you towards the end but he– he was–

Yours. A part of you. 

Gone.

And your mother’s asking about the English test you have second period. 

—

“What. Did. I. Say?” Each word is slowly enunciated, a quiet growl that drags an unwilling shiver down your spine. 

He smells of wood – of cedar, spice and musk, the notes melding, coiling with the dizzying body heat, the solid weight of him, bracing himself above you.

His lips are mere inches from yours. 

Not dead. 

Here.

There’s a thousand thoughts racing through your head, connections that light up, clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle, painting a deeply unsettling picture – all of which are drowned out by the revelation that Hajime is here.

You burst into tears–

and Hajime – your brother, very much alive and glaring at you from above – surges down to swallow them in a vicious kiss.

The moment your lips touch, all the tension in his body just… bleeds out. Hajime groans, low and heated, his hips rocking, grinding along your stomach, and if you weren’t too preoccupied short circuiting, dangling on the precipice of a panic attack, you’d feel the twitch of his mouth, curling into a small but no less satisfied smirk.

He relaxes, like he’s coming home rather than returning from the dead to land the killing blow.

“Mine,” he answers his own question, breath heavy and ragged as his teeth nip at your jaw. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

The scratches on the wall. Kaori and Koji and Takashi, asleep in a sea of red. The viscous mess spilled over your belly. Your mother’s hushed voice, carrying down the hallway, ‘– only a phase. The books all say he’ll grow out of it before long.’

She hadn’t sounded convinced. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, desperate to block it all out as more tears spill into your hairline. Hajime won’t let you. He groans your name into the shell of your ear and licks at the tears as they fall. “Don’t,” he warns, fingers pressing tightly around your wrists ‘til they shoot back open with a gasp, “don’t you dare check out.”

When he rucks up your shirt to find you sans bra and a warm palm slides up to grope the soft, supple skin, a fresh burst of panic spurs you into action. Pinned under his weight as you are, you can’t move, and the idea of trying to physically fight him off is as laughable as it is terrifying – but when you were younger, you were the one – the only one – who could coax Hajime back from the edge, your hand in his.

Until he leapt from it entirely, and they took him away.

“H-Hajime?” A trembling, hiccuping whimper, thick with tears.  

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even pause – shuffling down your body to mouth at them instead – but hooded, simmering pools of green flick back up to your face, a hum of acknowledgement rumbling in his chest as he nips and sucks pretty, burgundy blooms across your breasts.

“I-if you ever loved me, even a little… Please, Haji– don’t hurt me like this–” you choke on another sob, pathetic mess that you are.

Hajime goes preternaturally still, eyes boring into you. 

You stare right back, fighting the urge to cower and flinch, to turn your cheek and stare at the discarded dumpling wrappers, letting him take what he wants. Praying that he won’t hurt you too badly if you give it to him without a fight.

Because it will hurt, you think. It’ll break you entirely. 

(Are you not already broken?)

When his head drops, you can’t help it – the sharp, terrified hitch in your breath – but his lips meet your forehead, then each cheek, before finally they brush over your lips with a tenderness he has no right to. “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he vows, cradling the side of your jaw, “I won’t hurt you, ever.”

But that’s a lie, too.

“I love you more than anything.”

He kisses you again, soft and sweet and gentle, as if those promises weren’t sewn from violence and legitimised in blood. As if he isn’t breaking your heart with every sweep of his tongue, plundering your mouth.

There’s no fight in you left when he reaches for the waistband of your sweats and slowly starts easing them down. You don’t claw and shove when the hold on your wrists loosens and then disappears entirely, both hands needed to strip away his clothes. 

The sound of his belt buckle clinking, the soft hiss of a zipper, they wash over you, white noise lost to the pounding in your ears. 

But you don’t look away.

He strokes his cock – long and thick and flushed to the tip –  crawling up the mattress to kneel between your legs like a supplicant before an altar of the divine. 

Devotion demands sacrifice. 

“It killed me,” he starts, dragging the mushroom head along the slit of your pussy. He frowns a little, leans back and spits – a fat glob of saliva landing dead centre, adding to the mess his weeping cock’s already made. “When the letters stopped coming. I was angry, so fucking angry, all the time. I’d lash out and they’d put me in another cage, and I’d do it again, and again. They tried convincing me you’d moved on,” his eyes flash darkly, “which was bullshit. They’d have to carve me out of you with a knife.”

What shocks you isn’t the violent imagery, but the truth of it settling into your bones, inescapable and undeniable; you’ll always love your brother, even if that very love destroys you.

“I didn’t–”

The first thrust rips a strangled yelp from your throat. 

He’s too big, you’re not prepared to take him – and Hajime doesn’t care. His head tips back, shuddering out a breathy laugh. 

There’s no pause, no period of grace, seated deep inside of you, the walls of your pussy hugging him tight, Hajime won’t allow you a second to catch your breath and wait for the burning sting to abate. His hips draw back until only the throbbing head of his cock remains inside, and, upon grabbing a leg to hitch over his shoulder, uses it as leverage to punch forward, stuffing your tight little cunt to the brim.

The pace he sets is brutal from the outset. Bruising. He licks at your tears between kisses and moans when you clench and shudder around him. “Never again,” he pants into your ear. “I’ll kill them all if you leave. Every last fucking one. You’re mine. Mine.”

And you’d think it cruel, a punishment, if not for the way those green eyes burn. 

When his fingers twine with yours, pressing you down into the mattress, holding you there, you wonder if this was always an inevitability. 

Hajime led and you followed, hand in bloody hand. 

He’d never allow anything less.

[earlysunshines]

sunshine girl

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: you are not a morning person and danielle is an everything person—after working with her you start to like mornings a little more, or maybe just her.

warnings: grumpy x sunshine kinda?? ; reader is hyein's cousin ; soobin from txt and rest of nwjns mentioned ; pining and slowburn, like.. slooowburn ; sooo much fluff like soooooo much… ; loool anything else i didn't mention? ; barely proofread

a/n: fell in love w dani, caved, wrote... dreamy sigh... dani…

there is no universe or alternate reality with a twisted, psycho version of that you enjoys mornings. 

there is no way that you’d deliberately get out of bed just to hear the birds chirping and get up to open the curtains or whatever it is that morning people do to enjoy the grueling hours of 7 - 11am. 

do people actually do this? get up at 7am willingly without benefitting from it? the only reason you’re up is because you need that paycheck to keep you going. the image of the little envelope with your name on it and what you’ve earned renders you awake, at least awake enough to get yourself in the shower, dressed up, and ready to go for opening – you’ve never opened, and even worse, you’ve never met any of the staff that opened either. they can’t be worse than the closers, can they?

as you look in the mirror of your car, it’s palpable that the morning air hates you. your eyes are a little puffy, slight eyebags are visible, and your blinking is slower. you’ve got to get through this, it’s the only way to fit work into your schedule since your classes are all later in the day. 

when you arrive, there’s already someone in your unassigned but basically assigned parking spot – you frown as you back up into a different place. 

after you shift your car to park and check the time, realizing you only have five minutes left before you need to clock in for a six-hour shift, you close your eyes and let your body go limp against the seat. 

–

danielle’s head perks up when she hears the door opening. she halts her wiping of the coffee maker, then turns to see an unfamiliar face – a grin automatically finds its way to her lips.

“hi! you must be y/n?” it’s eight in the morning, you’re barely functioning, and you’re already hit with an overly enthusiastic, excited ray of sunshine; you can’t take the energy, not at this hour.

“yeah.” you respond bluntly, danielle isn’t really phased with the lack of energy that’s being thrown back. “you are?”

she answers with hands clasped together, “danielle! but my friends call me dani.” 

you’re not calling her dani, you aren’t her friend, and she’s just your coworker. 

you walk behind the counter and put your bag inside the cabinet, then grab your apron and put it on. when you turn to the side, you’re met with a shorter woman, her curious eyes, the beauty marks on her face, and a big smile. she puts her hand out and you shake it hesitantly. 

“it’s nice to meet you y/n! have you ever worked mornings?”

“no,” you mumble, unlinking your hands. “only closing shifts.”

“ahh, must be different? i’ll get you situated. i’m excited to work with you!” she says, then walks past you towards the door to the kitchen. she pauses before explaining, “the employees in the back take care of all the pastries other than the croissants and cookies, so we make them over here. i’m going to grab the premade dough and whatnot, you stay here– oh! and could you wipe down the machine? and then just run water for the espresso machine to get the pucks ready.”

you nod at her and she smiles again. you rub your eyes as she leaves your sight, fighting the urge to take a power nap on the counter.

–

the whole morning you’re in charge of drinks right until it hits two in the afternoon. luckily, you’re more fond of being stuck in your corner where the espresso machine is rather than taking orders and socializing with the customers – you wouldn’t be able to greet them as enthusiastically as danielle does with each and every one of them.

you don’t know how she does it.

there's another guy—soobin—who comes in an hour after you. he's a little older, quieter, but all smiles and talkative when it comes to danielle. even as you make drinks and keep to yourself, you can tell danielle's energy is contagious. hearing her and soobin chat freely as they restock pastries and bread makes you wonder if your mornings can be as bearable. if they can do it, maybe you can too.

soobin leaves an hour later than you and danielle, waving to both of you as you two walk out the bakery. 

you fish for your keys and start to walk towards your car, but then your head turns when you hear your name called out. turning around, you spot danielle waving to you, which urges you to stop in your place.

“hey y/n, i just wanted to say that it was nice working with you! i’m looking forward to more shifts with you, have a great rest of your day alright?”

paused in place, you struggle to form words, but you manage to respond a little bluntly, “thanks, i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“bye the way!” she plays with her fingers, “you’re super pretty.” 

caught by surprise, you pause for a moment, clutching the strap of your bag a little tighter as your ears start to warm.

“thank you.”

danielle grins again, and oddly enough, you really like how warm and smiley she is. she's like a beam of sunlight turned into a person. she waves once more before walking in the opposite direction, leaving you replaying the whole interaction in your head the rest of the way to your car.

a small smile finds its way to your lips as you sit in your seat, strangely enough.

–

minji is scribbling in her sketchbook when her roommate walks in, looking a little more giddy than usual.

“dani, hey.” minji greets her, smiling when she does. “how was work?”

“great!” danielle beams, right before plopping down next to her roommate on the couch. “there’s a new member – well, she’s not new, but she just switched to working mornings. today was her first shift with soobin and i, and she’s really good at making the drinks, better than when yeosang was on drink duty.”

“that’s great to hear dani.” minji responds, watching her roommate relax against the cushion. “new coworker seems nice.”

“yeah but,” danielle frowns a little, “she’s not that talkative. she has a tough shell, i really want to know her! she’s really pretty too, like gorgeous, stunning– wow.”

minji quirks a brow. “gorgeous?”

“yes! like, wow, i was taken aback. she looked tired too, but i’ve been tired and i’ve never looked that effortlessly wonderful. i mean, she was making drinks most of the time so she never faced me much. even then, the side of her face is nice and she’s just great to look at.” 

danielles roommate narrows her eyes at her. “right.”

–

the next morning you’re downing two shots of espresso like it’s vodka. danielle watches the whole thing with concern etched into her brow.

“are you okay y/n?” danielle questions, “espresso is strong, how do you do it?”

you nod at her and mumble, “it’s fine.” before you continue to clean the counter, not turning to face her. she frowns at you; danielle will get through that shell. 

soobin is in half an hour later, grinning at danielle as he puts his apron on and saying “hi” to you as well. you respond with a forced smile before plopping the last batch of cookies in the small oven on the counter. 

as soon as soobin is done taking the first few customers, leaving you to finish their drinks, danielle pulls him by the sleeve away from you.

“dani? what is it–”

“let’s go bag the pastries, come.”

“um, okay?” he walks over towards the shelves with her, putting on some gloves before asking, “why are you being so strange?”

“i want to get closer with y/n.” she says with a pout. 

“is that all?” soobin questions her–and this strange behavior. “i think she’s just timid.”

“you were timid too, but it took two hours into the shift for us to start talking about hedgehogs.”

“well, i like hedgehogs. you have to find out something you two like.”

danielle sighs defeatedly. “she barely responds to me unless it’s work-related!”

“you’ve got to give her time, people are different. she’s probably not a morning person? and maybe she sees this as just her job, maybe she doesn’t want to interact with others.”

danielle watches you from where her and soobin are after hearing you call out the name of the order. you hand it over to the elderly woman, who thanks you warmly and it earns a small, genuine smile from you. danielle finds your smile lovely, especially the small dimples on your cheeks that form. 

“you’re going to help me out, okay? we have to warm up to her.”

soobin sighs before bagging a cream bun. “okay.”

–

it’s painfully slow for a few minutes, so you walk out from behind the counter to fix up the pastries that the various customers have disordered. 

danielle follows and you jump when you turn to see her beaming at you. “hi!”

“danielle,” you tighten your jaw. “hi.”

“it’s slow on wednesday mornings, most people are already at work.”

“i figured.” you reply as you close the packaging for the rice doughnut.

“so, how are you this morning?”

“i’m fine, um, how are you?”

danielle smiles; the conversation is flowing in the tiniest bit, but still, it’s something. “just tired, i had a lot of work to do because one of my professors loves to assign things last minute, i stayed up quite late. are you in college too? i kind of guessed that we’re around the same age.”

“i just started my second year.” you answer.

she jumps a tiny bit to show the excitement over a commonality, you think it’s adorable.

“really? me too! what are you studying?”

“english and creative writing–” you cut yourself off when you catch a mother and her daughter in the corner of your eye, shutting down the conversation immediately when they start to walk towards the register. 

you throw a small smile at them and greet them warmly before tak ingtheir orders. danielle huffs, but she’s shining again once she’s realized that your shell has chipped just barely.

–

you don’t work fridays or the weekend, danielle has already been aware of that after checking the schedule. it would be weird in the eyes of, well, many people, but she checks everyones schedule just in case any mishaps occur, danielle is considerate beyond measure.

she’s attentive and notices many things – she’s like that with everyone, but you? you’re different.

sure, she’s attentive to the way soobin stumbles over the small bump under the door to the kitchen each time he has to grab something from the back, how he jumps each time the phone rings, and how often he bags the pastries backwards. with you, however, she notices a lot, she learns. 

two weeks after you two start working together, danielle has managed to learn three things about you.

one: you laugh whenever soobin slips up – or really any little mishap that happens with him (which occurs often) – but you always try to conceal your amusement. two: as soon as noon hits, you’re much more awake, which is when danielle sparks more conversation with you. and three: you both go to the same university, and you don’t know this, but she figured that out before you even told her after catching you in the dining hall from afar.

it’s not easy to miss something – or someone – that stands out so boldly, especially if it’s your charming visuals.

her job used to be something that she’d get done and enjoy while it lasted, but now that you’re thrown into the mix, a new challenge and person is clouding her mind throughout her days. she’s so tuned in to everything about you, for some strange reason. and one afternoon, the rare moment she loses focus – attention slipping away in the heat of a rush – danielle bumps into you, spilling a small cup of hot coffee all over your hand. 

you gasp loudly, clutching your hand and biting down on your teeth as tears start to form. “fuck–”

“y/n!” danielle almost yelps, earning the attention from the customers in the shop. “oh my gosh–” she places the cup on the counter before grabbing your wrist and running it under cold water. somehow, her holding your wrist seems to burn more. “i’m so so sorry, y/n are you okay? i’m so–”

you shake your head and push her hand away from your wrist, wiping away the small tear in the corner of your eye. “it’s fine, it was an accident. you should go help soobin out, there’s a long line.”

she can’t tell if you’re mad at her, it breaks her heart. the tone of your voice is always so hard to decipher, and as much as she wants to stay there and help you out – probably with another string of apologies – you have a point, she should do her job, but you’re burnt. danielle is much more worried about you rather than making money in the moment.

but still, your look and tone sends danielle back to the register, and before she tends to the customer, she looks back at you, pouting a little.

–

as soon as you reach the door to the drivers side of your car, you feel a tap on your shoulder. 

turning around, you’re met with danielle.

“did you need something?” you ask her, tilting your head.

“no, i just wanted to apologize for burning your hand, i’m so sorry.” 

you shake your head. “it’s alright, it was a mistake.” 

“yes, but still, can i make it up to you with coffee or pastries?”

“danielle,” you catch yourself and danielle by surprise when a small giggle slips out. you clear your throat before continuing, “we work at a bakery, i can always treat myself to both of those without charge.”

“well, i really want to make it up to you.”

“you’re really sweet, but it’s alright.” you catch your coworker off guard with the sudden compliment, there’s a small flush that spreads across her cheeks. “besides, my hand feels better.” you show her your hand, putting it out in front of her, it’s still red and swollen. “it’ll heal more. i’ll see you tomorrow, alright? get home safe danielle.”

danielle can’t really respond to you after that, you’re already waving to her once more before heading to your car. she watches you glance down at your hand, gently holding it as you do so. the guilt in her starts to grow even more.

–

hanni watches danielle storm into the house, rub her face with both hands, and plop onto the couch like she’s just gotten rejected by someone as if she were in some type of romance drama. 

“dani? what is up with you–”

“i’m a terrible person! my coworker probably hates me– i’ve been trying to warm up to her these past two weeks and then i go and burn her!”

hanni’s eyes widen, her brows raise, and her jaw drops. “you burned your coworker?”

with tired eyes and a bedhead, minji appears from the hall in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. she groans as she runs a hand through her hair, squinting her eyes. “what’s with all the noise? i’m trying to nap…”

“dani burned her coworker.”

minji’s a little more awake now, tilting her head. “the really pretty one?”

“yes!” danielle groans into the cushion, the bottom of her palms covering her eyes as she lies there defeatedly. when she takes her hands off her face, she opens her eyes to see minji and hanni hovering over as they stand, awaiting an explanation. “i’m a terrible person.”

hanni moves danielles legs over so that she can sit on the couch, putting her legs on her lap as the younger woman loses it. minji sits on the opposite end, putting her legs over on hanni’s lap as well and resting her head against a pillow.

“okay well why are you a terrible person?”

“i spilled hot coffee all over my coworker’s hand! gosh, i tried to apologize and everything, i even offered to compensate for the damage and she declined! y/n has to hate me…”

hanni looks over at minji to pout, then looks back at danielle. “hey, it was a mistake. what did she say?”

“well, she was really normal about it as if i didn’t just burn her hand, she brushed it off like it was nothing. i offered to have coffee with her or share some pastries but then she giggled and was all like ‘you’re really sweet but it’s okay’ and i don’t know, what if burning her hand makes her talk to me less and she hates me forever and–”

“dani.” minji butts in, making the younger one quiet down. “you made her laugh and she said you’re really sweet.”

“and?”

“and?” minji groans, sitting up on her elbows now. “dani, she said you’re really sweet. why wouldn’t she want to talk to you?”

“because i burned her? or maybe i’m annoying and talk too much but i really can’t help it-”

hanni puts a finger to danielles lips, dramatically shushing her. minji laughs at the action before hanni butts in, “dani, first of all; you’re not annoying. second; you’re literally the greatest person ever and i love you and if you ever stopped talking so much i’d have to i don’t know, die?”

minji snorts. “the hell?”

“what i’m saying is no one could ever hate you and honestly if she does; she’s not worth your time. plus, you shouldn’t waste your energy on someone who doesn’t appreciate you. you’re wonderful bro.” danielle’s eyes soften as she looks at hanni, and minji’s bottom lip protrudes from how sweet her words are. hanni sits danielle upright and puts both hands on her shoulders. “how about this: minji and i go visit you at work tomorrow and we’ll be the judge of your coworker.”

“you’d do that for me?”

hanni nods. “yes, but also please hook us up with some free pastries and drinks because i have to do a wrap around on this whole lecture so let's see it as an exchange, but also i love you dani and don’t want you losing your mind over this woman.”

“and i’ll be the judge of whether or not your coworker is as gorgeous as you think.” minji adds teasingly.

danielle smiles from ear to ear, making a small little noise as she pounces on hanni and hugs her like she’s her savior. minji laughs at the sight, smiling as well. 

–

you park near your cousin’s highschool, you always pick her up after opening shifts since the time aligns perfectly. you send a text to your cousin to let her know you’re there and your burnt hand sits on the wheel, so you take a few moments to examine it as you wait for a response.. 

minutes pass before your cousin arrives, knocking on the window and grinning at you, breaking you out of your small daydream.

“hi y/n, sorry i came so late, my teacher was being an ass.”

“language hyein.” you scoff, knowing damn well you curse like it’s your second language. hyein gets into the passengers seat and steals your phone, putting on a song as you start to drive again. “anyway, how was school?”

“oh god, it was so draining today. i swear my physics teacher wants me dead.”

“this is why you don’t take physics as a sophomore.”

“well someone won’t help me.” hyein rolls her eyes playfully, making you giggle. “anyway, school was just school. how was work?”

“it was alright, i kinda– well, my coworker spilled coffee on me. burned my hand a little but it’s not too bad.”

“the tall one? soobin? or was it the pretty one, your little work crush?” she raises her brows knowingly, smirking. 

hyein is one of very few people who you let loose around. despite your age gap, she’s your cousin, and your favorite one too. ever since you moved to live with her and her parents for school, you’ve gotten closer, spending hours rambling and practically getting glued to by the hip. she knew everything about you and what you felt.

she knew how you felt about your morning shifts; you coming home with a smile on your face after work was different. you dreaded work and the people you worked with for closing, all some stupid braindead men that you had to order around half the time. danielle and soobin were far from that. the duo eased your worries and actually did their job relatively well, you were able to do what you loved – stay stuck in the corner making all of the drinks – without worrying about the bakery. it was a breeze, you loved teh switch to mornings other than waking up at a time that has you quiet, moody, and only functioning after at least two shots of espresso.

hyein also knew about the interest you had in your new coworker danielle. you’ve never rambled about someone this much, calling her sweet, lovely, nice – not to mention the whole tangent regarding her eyes and pretty smile. hyein watched you chastise yourself for being so distant and avoidant because of your moods in the morning, comforting you for not being able to form decent bonds and friendships because of how early you had to get up.

you grip the wheel a little tighter. “danielle, it was an accident though.”

hyein eyes you. “so the pretty one.”

“her name is danielle.”

“point proven! you don’t just recognize your coworkers by how attractive they are you know…” hyein teases, “sometimes you talk about her and i wonder if my older cousin can finally be a normal person that’s capable of having a crush on someone.”

you keep your eyes on the road, but use your right hand to push her head playfully and ruffle her hair, earning a whine. 

“just because i think someone is pretty does not mean i like them. you’re so young, you don’t know shit about crushes and romance.”

“stop cursing.” hyein warns. the light turns red and you step on the break, then turn to look at her with raised brows. hyein laughs and cocks her head, giving you stupid puppy eyes. “i know when someone likes someone, or at least when they start to. you think she’s pretty but in a way that sounds like you’re an admirer.”

“what?”

“you tell me you can’t talk to her and look at her sometimes? y/n im sixteen, but im also not new to having crushes, ive been there. you like her.”

“do you want to walk home?”

hyein pouts, crossing her arms and making you laugh in the process. “youre no fun.”

“whatever.” you mumble.

when the two of you get home, hyein steals your keys to open the door to the house. she gets in first, obviously eager to do whatever it is that she’s up to after school — probably calling her friends or laying in bed.

you walk over to the kitchen and run your burnt hand under cold water, clenching your teeth slightly when you feel the stinging. 

in the drawer near you, there’s the first aid kit, over the counter tablets, and other health related items. you rummage through to find the burn relief cream, leaning against the countertop as you twist the cap open. you squeeze out a line of the cream that extends down to the base of your pointer finger, then you begin to rub your reddened skin. 

your thoughts drift to the moment of when you burned yourself—well, when danielle burned you. she had this look in her eyes, so pure and so regretful that it made you feel bad. 

she was so sweet with the offer, she’s ways so lovely. she’s honestly adorable. the way the words rushed out of her, the small pout on her lips and the fact that she offered to make it up to you. every nerve in your body wanted to accept the offer, but danielle shouldn’t have to pay or spend time on something to make things up to someone like you. it was a mistake after all. 

then your thoughts drift elsewhere, from the whole burnt-hand incident and then to the person who burned you–to danielle. she’s bubbly in the mornings and although you used to hate that, her smile and greetings started to wake you up a little more. the crinkle of her brow every time she catches you downing shots of espresso always makes you suppress a laugh, the expression is so adorable and she’s just so—

“stupid hyein,” you sigh to yourself.

youve been absentmindedly rubbing the burn-relief cream in the same spot for almost a minute, all because of your coworker taking over your thoughts. you begin to rub the rest of your hand and add another dot of cream to the lower area of your hand.

hyein’s called you out multiple times for having an alleged crush on your coworker, but you’ve always dismissed it. however, the words she’s said to you before ring in your head in the moment. you crease your brows and purse your lips subconsciously.

“maybe you can’t talk to her because you’re attracted to her and not because it’s 8 in the morning.” hyein shrugs, looking at you as you sit lazily on the couch. she’s lecturing you after another ramble about your day, the mere mention of danielle prompting her to quote on quote ‘educate you’ on what love is. “you talked to your friends perfectly during morning classes from what you’ve told me, maybe you’re just all shy and blushy and—“

you smack the palm of your hand on your forehead to stop yourself from thinking of that memory of you and your cousin.

“i don’t have a crush on danielle… what is she thinking?” you mumble to yourself. you halt your actions after the realization that you’ve just talked to yourself hits. you press a hand to your cheeks, feeling a weird warmth from your skin, making you shake your head and groan. “i can talk to her fine… just fine.”

 —

“morning!” danielle beams as she catches you walking in. you manage to shoot a small smile, danielle likes that you’ve been giving her more of those.

you put your bag in the cabinet, then put on your apron. without turning to face her, you start to speak, “danielle?”

she almost jumps, not expecting you to even interact with her. maybe you needed help with something? or a question regarding the new breakfast pastries.

“y/n, did you need something?”

you shake your head. “no, i just, um— how are you this morning?”

danielle pauses, you turn to meet her eyes and blink as you wait for an answer. your coworker short circuits momentarily before stumbling over her words as she responds, “oh, i’m— i’m great! tired of course, you know with school and all. thank you for asking y/n.”

“did you get enough sleep?” danielle looks at you after you ask that, wondering where all of this friendliness is coming from. she’s not against it though, maybe you’re just awake this morning.

“i tried to get as much as i could.” she says, then smiles. “is your hand okay?”

“it’s fine. i put ointment on it and it’s like nothing happened.” you assure.

without any warning, you disappear into the back, probably looking for dough to bake. danielle is still stuck in her place, blinking a few times before she runs the espresso machine. she wonders for a moment, furrowing her brow at the rare interaction that you started. but then, she’s grinning to herself just thinking about it all.

danielle wonders: maybe you don’t hate her, maybe her roommates were right. 

—

you hear a bundle of voices, three to be exact.  when you look up from the steam wand, you’re met with three women that all look your age—they all probably go to your university, or maybe the other one that’s also close by.

one of them walks up to the register, soobin greets them, but their attention seems to be on you for a bit.

“hi, is danielle here?” one asks. 

soobin nods, still looking at the screen of the register. “yeah, she’s in the back. did you need her?”

“we’re really close with her, could you grab her?”

soobin nods again, humming in response before he walks over to the door leading to the back. 

you continue to make the cappuccino that an older lady ordered a few minutes ago, creating a small lavender looking design with the steamed milk and pushing it out on the counter. 

“for park!” you call out, the lady comes up to the counter in seconds and smiles at you. she pats your shoulder and it makes your heart warm knowing she’s happy with it.

the three girls from before, they continue to eye you from the register until danielle is back, and when she returns, she starts squealing at the sight of them.

“you guys really came!” danielle beams, immediately reaching over to hug them as best as she can with the counter in the way. “what pastries did you all want? oh! i can also grab you drinks.”

the one with bangs nods, then orders for all of them. “mmm i’ll have an iced vanilla latte, minji wants a hot tea and haerin just wants a cookie and iced tea. you know she’s out early today? oh my god, as soon as we heard we scooped her up immediately-“

the rest of their conversation doesn’t process in your head as you start with the drinks. you had just put the puck in the machine, twisted it in place and started to pull the espresso before you feel a tap on your shoulder.

danielle meets your eyes and you feel yourself soften up a bit. 

she tugs on the cloth covering your shoulder just a bit before she speaks. “hey.”

“hi?” 

“can i introduce you to my roommates and our friend? you wouldn’t mind? would you?”

“oh, no— but i’m kind of… making one of their drinks right now.”

“oh, sorry— wait what?  i was going to make them—“

“well since they’re you’re friends i think they’d appreciate their drinks out earlier. and it’s okay, don’t be sorry danielle. i’ll do whatever if it’s not busy and when i’m done.” you swear you see a little more pink on her cheeks than usual, stronger than the blush she wears—you could be wrong.

“right, yeah, do your job!”

you stifle a giggle and purse your lips to conceal your smile, ultimately failing. danielle’s tone and mood are contagious sometimes.

(all the time.)

when you’re finished with the drinks — danielle had lingered nearby here and there as you made them — you placed them on the little counter for danielle to pick up. she had smiled at you, mouthed a “thank you,” and rushed over to sit down with her friends. 

it wasn’t busy at all, the only other customers in the bakery had been a corporate man that soobin was tending to. the man bought a loaf of milk bread and ordered a brewed coffee, soobin could handle all of that. he will handle all of that.

danielle sits with her friends at the table, giggling as she does so and looking as happy as ever. there’s a weird flutter in your stomach, like someone poking you there from the inside and it’s not that it hurts, it’s just odd. 

pretending to busy yourself is something you’re really good at doing, and plus, it’s a great way to excuse your glances toward danielle as she talks to her friends. she’s really smiley and giddy, it’s the cutest thing ever.

a few minutes pass and you’re still bagging some items, daydreaming as you do so. 

(danielle seemed to pop up here and there, strangely enough.

here and there turned into her being the star of the dreams.)

you’re in your own world until a faint “hey y/n!” is muttered into your ear, making you jump and almost elbow your pretty coworker.

“did i startle you? i’m so sorry—“ danielle starts, but you’re quick to cut her off as soon as she begins to apologize. 

“no, no. sorry i was in my own world.”

“i get that.” she chuckles, “hey, most of the things are bagged–i was wondering if you’d like to meet my friends? soobin is cashiering and he should be fine since it’s not too busy so…?”

you take a quick glance and look over at her friends who are looking at the two of you eagerly. the one with bangs has this smirk on her face, making you hesitate.

“please? i don’t know why but–” danielle lies, she knows why. “um, they want to meet you.”

“me?” 

“yes!”

you pause and honestly think of declining until danielle shoots her bottom lip out a bit. in no time you’re biting the inside of your cheek before responding with a nod, and you’re so grateful because she’s grabbing your hand—two fingers of yours—and leading you over to the small table near the windows.

danielle is gripping your pointer and middle finger lightly, but it feels like she has a hold on you as a whole. your body is all warm and fuzzy and your mind is hazy and her skin is really soft and nice and—

“this is y/n!” she introduces, letting go of your fingers. “y/n, these are my roommates hanni minji, and this is haerin.”

“nice to meet you all.” you greet softly with a small smile. they all stare and you feel yourself shrinking under all the pairs of eyes. you poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue before clearing your throat. “are the drinks alright?”

minji scans your face, eyes tracing each and every feature before her gaze softens. she nods at you and responds, “they’re great, wonderful.”

you nod at her and grin again, looking down at the table to avoid any eye contact. 

hanni chuckles. “yeah this latte is actually amazing, danielle’s made me lattes before but they’ve never been this good.”

“y/n is really good at making the drinks, practically keeping the bakery in business. i bet our boss is happy with you in the mornings.” danielle completely ignores hanni’s teasing and adds to the praise, making you wave your hand and shake your head.

“ah, no, no. i mean i can only make drinks but danielle is really good at every aspect of her job, she’s wonderful with customers.”

“oh stop–”

“no, you are.” you look up to make eye contact with her, then look over to soobin, who’s brewing another batch of coffee. “soobin is great, but he’s really clumsy sometimes and it’s kind of funny catching him stumbling over words. you’re a natural.”

“you’re so sweet.” danielle mutters in awe before  lips turn up even more, her cheeks flush slightly and her friends all look at each other with smirks on their faces. 

“i um, i try–”

you hear the door opening and two pairs of very familiar voices make you turn immediately. turning around, you see your cousin and her best friend in a group with three others you just barely recognize. danielle spots this as well, she starts to stand before you pause her in the act.

“danielle, i got it.”

“it’s a big group y/n.” she continues to stand up, but when you place your hand on her arm lightly it’s like you’ve frozen her in place. minji and hanni immediately give each other knowing looks, and haerin observes the whole ordeal intensely. 

“it’s my cousin and her friends, you should stay and hangout with your friends. besides, you haven’t had a break today, relax.” your hand slides down to her forearm without any thought. despite the small action, danielle is flustered by it.

“you sure?”

“positive,” you affirm, then look at all her friends. “it was nice meeting you all.”

the group watches you walk over behind the counter, and as soon as you’re at a distance where they can talk without you hearing anything, danielle’s friends – minji and hanni for the most part – go ham on her.

“oh yeah she’s gorgeous.” minji chimes in, shrugging it off like you’re not the prettiest person danielle has seen. “you were right.”

just gorgeous? 

“yeah she’s really pretty dani. and also, she doesn’t hate you, there’s no way.” hanni says as she munches on a croissant, earning a punch to the arm from minji. hanni whines, croissant still in her mouth, “hey! what was that for?”

“finish chewing before you talk! you’re so gross…” 

“you didn’t have to hit me!” hanni groans, nudging minji with her shoulder.

haerin rolls her eyes at the two before taking a sip from her iced tea, watching danielle glance at you. haerin has known danielle for a while, the last time she had been like this was forever ago, this admiration can’t be something that’s purely platonic, not with those dilated pupils and puppy eyes. 

and you, you’re no different either. haerin watches you glance over to make eye contact with danielle, eyes softening and your teeth showing as you smile at her the moment you meet each others features. 

while minji and hanni continue to bicker, haerin continues observing. danielle is making it look like she’s invested in the bickering – which, she very much is; it’s always entertaining when the two argue over stupid things – but her mind is somewhere else.  

“danielle,”

“haerin?” danielle turns her head and hums in response.

haerin blinks. “you like her.”

minji and hanni stop bickering, their presence enhancing the shiver down her spine.

“no, no. i just think she’s really interesting, i couldn’t possibly–”

haerin shakes her head, putting a hand up. “you look at her like she’s… like there’s a halo around her head.”

“i–” danielle turns to glance at you again. you’re laughing with one of the girls, she assumes it’s your cousin that you mentioned. you flick the younger girl’s forehead and she groans, which earns the most pure, natural laugh and smile she’s ever seen on your face. you’re cute, especially when all of your teeth are showing as you laugh. when you make eye contact with your coworker again through waterlined eyes, your lips purse into a closed smile.

danielle is blushing, her cheeks burn, and the vulnerability is displayed right in front of her friends. she tries to laugh it off, but hanni’s jaw drops and she throws a hand over her mouth.

“oh my god.”

minji starts to chuckle. “she has a point, danielle. whether you know it or not, it makes sense.”

“i barely know anything about her, you can’t be serious.” danielle rolls her eyes and pouts. “even if i did, it’d be impossible to even do anything remotely romantic. she’s like stone.

“she was literally everything but stone from what i saw earlier.” haerin comments. “danielle, it’s okay to have a crush on someone, you know?”

hanni hums in agreement. “yup, and you really need to stop that flirting you do with us every ten seconds because it’s grueling and if you’re going to flirt, flirt with someone you actually want because everytime you say anything remotely flirtatious ten years of my life get taken away.”

minji snorts and danielle can’t help but do so as well. “wooow, my flirting is very wonderful thank you.” she crosses her arms and looks over at you again. “and what if y/n doesn’t like my flirting?”

“nah,” hanni sips on her drink. “you called her a good barista or whatever and i saw her like, malfunction for two seconds. she was blushing a little.”

“well she wears blush so–”

“dani, can you–” hanni facepalms. “just, shhh. she doesn’t hate you and you know what, you can build off of that.”

haerin shrugs before taking a few more sips of her tea. “yeah, she’s pretty and smiles at you sweetly. it’s not impossible.”

danielle takes one more look at you, you’re still chatting with your cousin and her friend seems to be joined in the conversation as well. the rest of the group of teenagers have left, so the place is pretty empty. you smile here and there as you clean the counter and wipe the machine, occasionally looking at the two girls who converse with each other.

“okay dani, i love you but i also need to get this lecture noted and also oh my god i have a report due tomorrow and–”

 hanni feels a finger to her lips, similar to how she shushed danielle the night before, but now it’s reversed. minji snorts and haerin laughs before danielle assures, “go, go. i’ll see you later and bring extra snacks hanni.” 

the group begins to clear the table, dismissing danielles efforts to leave it be so she can take care of it. they all bring their silverware and dishes to the little trays near the trash before walking over to the exit, each girl hugging danielle before they all leave the bakery.

when danielle turns around, she spots you still conversing with the girls, but tending to the daily housekeeping simultaneously. you look up and catch her in your eye again, displaying a small, toothy smirk at her.

danielle chuckles to herself, making you do the same even as she moves over to package pastries.

–

today is your offday, so you’d usually wake up two hours later than you usually do for work. but when your phone rings around the same time you’d arrive at work, you groggily reach over to squint your eyes at the screen, reading the contact name that is calling you at this time in the morning:

incoming call: danielle

“does she know im not working? shouldn’t she be off today too…” you mumble to yourself before picking up and putting your phone on speaker. “hello?”

“y/n, hi, did i wake you up? you sound tired, ah, i’m sorry.”

feeling bad, you lie to her. “no, i’ve been awake for a bit now. is everything alright?”

“i just wanted to ask, um, how far do you live from work?”

“less than ten minutes, why do you ask?”

“i’m sorry if this is a big favor but i’m supposed to cover for soobin today since he’s sick. i walked to work since i live a fifteen minute walk away, not too far, but i forgot the keys and it’s storming really badly…”

you’re a little more awake now after hearing the light rumble of thunder coming from outside, it urges you to rub your eyes. “danielle, are you safe from the storm right now?”

“i mean, i’m standing under the little roof thing near the entrance. water can’t get me from here.”

“jesus,” you mutter to yourself, then jump at the next sharp thundering sound that comes after. “i’ll be there soon, okay? i’ll pick you up and you can just give me the directions to your place. be careful, i’m on my way.”

“thank you so much, im sorry again–”

“no, no. it’s fine, i’ll be there, see you.”

before she can respond, you hang up on her, running to the bathroom to splash water on your face and fix your disheveled bedhead up. then, you run towards the entrance of your house and grab your keys that hang on the hook near the door, slide your slides on, and quickly run out.

it’s storming hard, and you’ve already gotten a clue on how bad since you had been pretty drenched from simply walking to your car. 

you speed through the neighborhood and into the main road to get to the bakery faster. desperately looking through the windshield for your coworker, you spot her near the entrance just as she said, then drive up as close as you can.

rolling down your window, a bit of water gets on your face, hair, and the top of your shirt – but it doesn’t stop you from yelling, “get in!”

in a few seconds, danielle is in the passenger seat, her hair visibly damp but not too wet. she runs a hand through it, and it feels like your heart just skipped a beat. her hair is wavy now, more than usual, quite curly. was it always like this? her hair looks beautiful, framing her face perfectly, strands sticking to her skin from the raindrops—like elements of a painting coming together to create something breathtaking.

“sorry, i would’ve asked my roommates but they had some important stuff for their classes and whatnot so they left earlier this morning. i also didn’t want to wake minji up, i know her lectures are pretty bad.”

how thoughtful of her. 

shaking your head, you respond, “it’s fine, i just don’t want you getting sick. i’m glad you called.”

“really?”

“u-uh, i mean, yeah. i’m still not the best at opening and you’re pretty much the best at everything so… soobin and i need you in the mornings. i know im off today but whoever is working this morning probably needs you.”

“aw, that’s so sweet of you.” danielle’s smile grows and grows as she notices everything about you in the moment: your hair is messy, you have some old, loose t-shirt on with some poorly scribbled figure of… you? then, a small giggle leaves her lips once she notices the dog prints on your pajama pants. 

your blush grows deeper with each passing second. “i um, didn’t have time to change. do you want to type your address in my phone or…?”

“you look so cute y/n.” it slips out of danielles lips, but she’s able to play it off well with the little tilt of her head and a sly smirk. it works wonders on you. “i like your shirt and pants.”

you cough to ease your nerves, then shift the stick of your decade-old, hand-me-down five seat toyota to ‘drive.’

“my cousin made it for me when i was still in highschool a while ago. sorry, that’s not important.” you facepalm yourself mentally. danielle thinks this little story is very important, but you cut yourself off.  “do you just want to tell me the directions?”

adorable, danielle almost says out loud. 

“yeah, turn left at the stop.” 

danielle spends the rest of the time staring out the car and gazing out to see the rain that pours down from above. you’re stiff in your seat the whole time, especially when she does that little thing where she glances at you with those pretty eyes occasionally. it’s a simple look and yet you’re flustered beyond words.

you reach an apartment complex and drive as close as you can to the entrance. she gets out and mutters a haste “i’ll be quick” before leaving you alone with a racing heart and flushed face.

when she returns, there’s an umbrella in her hands and the keys to the bakery. once she gets in, you start to drive back.

“danielle?” 

“mhm?”

“is your hair naturally like that?” you ask. 

“ah,” she moves a hand to her hair to run her fingers through, though not without a little struggle. “i straighten it usually, it’s easier to maintain. the rain must’ve made it a little curly again huh?”

“i think your hair is beautiful like that, really.” you admit, eyes stuck on the road. “you look good with any hairstyle.”

“why thank you! i could say that for you as well.”

you scoff playfully, shaking your head as you turn into the bakery parking lot. “right, like my half-awake head is even the tiniest bit alluring.”

she winks at you, leaning in just a bit closer. “i think it enhances the natural allure, no?”

words get stuck in your throat, danielle laughs, and then she waves at you as she gets out the car. the rain has stopped just in time for her to clock in and a little beam of light hits her in the best way possible. you can’t help but stare at her in awe. 

“thank you for keeping me from getting drenched, you’re the sweetest.”

“yeah, i mean, you’re kind of the pillar. our boss isn’t ever here, you’re practically the boss no?”

“you’re too charming, i’ll see you in a few days?”

your mouth opens but nothing comes out for a moment, not until a bright idea pops up in your head.

“i can take you home after work, don’t want you walking in these conditions.”

“y/n,” she starts, looking confused. “it stopped raining.”

“it’s whatever, you know what– i can drive you to work in the mornings.”

“oh, you really don’t have to. isn’t the gas money quite–”

“no, no. i’ll give you a call or text next week, it’s nothing. see you danielle.”

–

little did you know, this would turn into a routine–the small gesture of picking up danielle instead of letting her walk in the mornings.

sure, she got a little less cardio, but she managed to crack that shell open just enough to glimpse what was inside. and everything hidden by your reserved demeanor was everything that made her heart flutter and more. each feature and curve of your face, beautifully highlighted by the soft glow of the café lamps captivated her beyond measure. but what she loved most was your personality—every word, every gesture. it captivated her in ways she hadn’t expected, and she found herself falling deeper with each passing moment.

you were caring, sweet, and had lots to share. there was never a dull moment with you the moment she figured out how to get you to talk a little more.

as for you, mornings weren't dreadful anymore. you started waking up earlier than usual just to make it to danielle's on time. you liked this new routine—seeing danielle first thing in the morning, sharing a coffee with her, chatting while the pastries baked. the smell of fresh coffee and baking bread filled the air, making the workspace warm and inviting. just being in her presence was the perfect start to your day. her laughter and smiles made everything brighter, transforming mundane, tiring mornings into something special.

and what kind of cousin would you be if you hadn’t told hyein everything like the two of you usually do. hyein is on the other side of the couch starting at you smile as you ramble about this routine you’ve fallen into with heart eyes and a wide grin.

“i mean, i haven’t ever liked mornings since her.” you begin, your fingers starting to fiddle with one another. “and oh my god she keeps flirting with me! it’s actually terrible. do you know how hard it is to stay normal when she’s calling me what, a fucking angel first thing in the morning? and it doesn’t help that she’s literally gorgeous, i mean you’ve seen her; she’s straight out of a dream.”

hyein groans as she sits up. “well if you’re so in love, quit complaining to me, you’ve been like this since the month started.”

you sit up as well, furrowing your brows. “what?”

“just ask her out already! it’s clear she’s into you.”

“i think she’s just flirty though.”

“old and stupid oh, you piss me off.” hyein throws a pillow at you, making you yell ‘hey!’ before throwing it back at her face. she laughs before clinging the pillow close. “but really, at least a ‘friend’ date or something… it would bring you two closer. those morning rides aren’t going to lead to anything more than what you already have, probably. plus, soobin and actually working gets in the way of your little lovey-dovey stuff.”

you look at her, biting your lip as you ponder.

hyein is right, hell, she always is. for a child, she’s pretty good with giving advice and an even better listener. she’s your best friend and favorite relative all in one, it would be somewhat betraying to not take the advice.

“well, what if she’s taken?”

“oh my god…” your cousin throws her head onto the cushion of the couch. “she calls you pretty and flirts with you – girl, of course she’s single.”

“okay but… i don’t know.”

“well i know that you’re stupid as hell.”

“language!”

“just check her instagram or something? people with significant others always post something.”

you fall silent, biting your lip again before looking at her with an apologetic feeling in your eye. “i don’t have anything but her number…”

“oh y/n, that’s not a problem at all.” hyein rolls her eyes and scoots up next to you, leaning against your shoulder as you peer over to watch what she’s doing. she holds the phone up to your face to unlock it and taps on the intagram icon, immediately clicking  on the search bar. “do you know her last name?”

“um, it starts with an m i think?”

“you don’t know her last name?”

“why would i know this?”

“do you have an app for your schedules or anything? oh my god, you’re seriously getting on my nerves… i can’t believe you managed to even have a girlfriend for that one year–”

you cringe at the mention of your history with women. “okay don’t mention that please… and fuck her, she was terrible to me.” you frown.

“sorry,” hyein know’s she’s hit a little spot, knowing your past with much detail, then continues. “anyway, let’s just search her up and…” she types in ‘d-a-n-i-e-l-l-e’ into the search and a few accounts pop up. she looks at the small profile pictures displayed and the first one makes her click her tongue. “found it!”

her page is pretty just from the first glance–you two haven’t even looked at any of the posts or highlights either. danielle’s profile picture is jus ther with a beanie over her head and looking at the camera with her pretty eyes and god you almost melt right then and there because no model could top her visuals. 

you reach over to scroll through her posts; she has thirteen in total, and a few catch your eye. one post, in particular, stands out: a single photo of her posing in front of a mirror, wearing a crop top that shows off her slim figure and a denim jacket hanging loosely off one shoulder. she looks absolutely stunning. as you stare at the image, lips slightly parted in awe, hyein looks over and sees your intense gaze. before you can react, you're interrupted by a playful pinch to your cheek.

“you’re so down bad.”

“i’m not!” you scoff, taking the phone out from her hands and scrolling yourself. 

there are photos of her with friends, snapshots of mesmerizing views (though none as captivating as her), pictures with her family, beach scenes, dogs, and several selfies—you find yourself lingering on those a bit longer. her entire page perfectly matches her energy; it's cute and vibrant. as you scroll, hyein catches you smiling to yourself, lost in the charm of danielle’s online presence.

one of her more recent posts, posted about three months ago, catches your eye. it’s her and haerin posing together with haerin’s face being cupped by danielle’s hand as they pose. the caption has your heart sinking a bit (a lot).

“beautiful, gorgeous, and lovely birthday girl💋👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 i love you lots sweetie”

hyein catches the whole thing live, watching your small smile turn into pursed lips. “that doesn’t mean anything y/n, friends can be like that.”

“they’re pretty close…” you swipe to see a picture of danielle’s nose nuzzled into haerin’s cheek and frown. “she’s taken.”

your heart sinks even more just looking at the picture longer, urging hyein to snatch your phone out of your hands and click on the mentioned tags. she finds haerin’s account – it’s public, thankfully – and roams around as you sit there defeatedly.

it’s not looking the best so far, not when hyein clicks on a post with danielle and her group of friends, and after hyein swipes to the next photo she’s met with danielle and haerin hugging each other, cheeks pressed together as they pose for the photo. you catch a glimpse before your head falls over on hyein’s shoulder like you’ve just come back from an unsuccessful war.

“it’s over.”

“y/n, lift your head up! i pose with my friends like this too… maybe she’s touchy.”

“not with me.” you pout. hyein flicks your forehead. “hey!”

“stupid,” she says. “maybe it’s because she likes you and is wary of boundaries. from what i’m seeing, you should initiate.”

“i can’t possibly do that.”

“you’re literally a liar.” she spits out. “as soon as your friends initiate something you’re clinging like a koala, even with me you’re like that.”

you fall over onto the couch, giving up and looking up at the ceiling; your life isn’t over because your really adorable, amazing, lively, vibrant, cute, helpful, captivating, adorable coworker is taken. 

(it’s over.)

hyein allows you to sulk for a moment before widening her eyes and gasping, “wait, i literally know haerin.”

“you do?”

“kind of. i just checked her account on my phone and a lot of people i know follow her, she’s that pretty upperclassman everyone likes. there’s no way she’s dating danielle, like, i have proof.”

sitting up immediately, you crunch your brows. “are you serious?”

“yeah. my friend is friends with her, she’s very much single and i don’t think she wants to mingle.”

“holy shit, you’re serious?”

“language~” hyein teases. “yes, i’m not trying to feed your delusions by the way–i don’t support homewrecking.”

you practically pouce at hyein and tackle her into a loving, grateful hug. she squeaks at the contact, but warms up into the hug. 

“i love you forever, i’ll buy you lunch and treat you to pastries and anything and–”

“it’s fiiinneee.” hyein pulls away and chuckles at you. “i just want to help you out and be happy. and after seeing danielle… she’s really adorable and you’re so giddy for her so she must be wonderful.”

“she is.”

“yeah, all you do is run your mouth about her.”

a laugh is shared between the two of you before hyein reaches for the remote to turn on the tv. you go back to your phone, clicking on danielle’s profile to stalk her again, lingering on posts of herself. you feel your cheeks burning and somehow the little glare your cousin gives you despite her not being in your vision or peripheral.

–

you’ve been reluctant on asking danielle out, even if it’s a simple ‘hangout’ or ‘friend date.’ she’s effortlessly charming as always with each interaction, even getting bold and watching you from over your shoulder at times – everything she does makes your heart beat and beat and beat.

danielle’s been equally flustered and enamored by how open you’ve been with her. the two of you have cracked jokes and shared small stories during the quiet moments with soobin, but danielle especially enjoys you just by yourself. there’s something much more tender about you when it’s just the two of you. you’re physically more touchy wth danielle, and she can’t really tell if it’s on purpose or you’re just touchy like that. you often shove her playfully in conversations, and when you both lean against the counter, you somehow manage to move over ever so slightly so that your arms are touching. 

your coworker has been attentive to all of this, unsure of whether this is just how you are and she’s overthinking things, or this being something more–maybe a sign that maybe you’re into her just a bit.

none of you question it really, and besides, danielles just as touchy. she sometimes leans her head on your shoulder – but very, very briefly – when something is amusing, and sometimes her hands find their way to your hair to fix it, or maybe even to your forearm just because. 

soobin is a bystander, the poor guy thinks it’s just how girls are and is completely oblivious that the two of you are fighting the thick tension in the air.

–

the last coffee beans were grinded, so you tap on soobin’s shoulder and tell him that you’re going to the back to grab more. he nods at you and sends you that pursed grin, you place a hand on his shoulder and thank him.

when you reach the small closet, you find danielle in the room as well, rummaging for packaging and more boxes for the pastries and desserts. she’s oblivious to your presence until you knock flicker the light on and off once, making her squeal and jump from surprise. your coworker turns around and hits the rack unknowingly, when she sees you, she starts to calm down.

“y/n! you scared me!”

you laugh. “sorry, i just needed some–”

above danielle, you spot a bag of coffee beans—at least three pounds heavy—starting to tip. before it can fall, you move without hesitation. you rush over, reaching out and getting on your tiptoes to catch it with one hand just in time.

a sigh of relief leaves your lips, but you catch your breath again as soon as you look back down.

danielle is close. her face is a few inches apart from you and your hand is still up to hold the coffee beans, making the moment much more intimate and nerve-racking than it actually is. she looks at you intensely, her lips parting before her eyes dart down to your lips. 

“y/n,” she almost whispers.

you gulp and look down at her lips, then away, putting your arm down and grabbing the coffee beans with you as you do so. your faces are closer now and you feel your heartbeat rapidly pounding against your chest, threatening to break through. danielle still stares at the features presented to her, pupils dilating.

you break the tension, looking away and stepping back, holding the coffee beans to your chest almost like you’re hugging them. your eyes dart around the room nervously, your cheeks burn like they’re steak being put onto a hot iron skillet, and you gulp one last time.

“the um, t-the beans… they almost fell on you.”

“yeah?” 

“i’m um, i need to uh– yeah, there’s no more grinds and i need to make a latte…”

“right.” danielle starts to smirk, looking at the aftermath on your face. “you do that then. oh, and by the way.”

“hm?”

she steps forward to push hair out your face and behind your ear, her fingers graze against the back of it. “your ears are red–and warm.”

“oh, um, maybe.” you mumble softly. danielle giggles at you before you leave the room, 

–

the two of you don’t speak on the incident the rest of the shift since danielle can tell you’re flustered and she’s also really good at keeping a conversation going. plus, work is in the way at times, so doing your job saves you.

after you two clock out for the day, both of you walk to your car and danielle watches you closely before looking out the window again. you feel a shiver down your spine as you get out the parking spot and the grip on the wheel is tighter the whole way to her apartment complex.

you park in front of the entrance, danielle unbuckles her seatbelt and says, “thanks for the ride.”

“it’s no problem.”

“i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“yup.” 

your coworker narrows her eyes at you, looking at you questionably as if she were expecting something different. she puts her hand on yours, smiles, then gets out the car. 

she starts to walk towards the entrance, and as she walks through the door you huff.

“i can’t be like this, fuck me. another lecture from hyein would kill me.” you groan.

you grab your keys, unbuckle your seatbelt, and get out the car as soon as possible. you sprint towards the entrance and look around for danielle, catching a glimpse of her walking towards the stairs, so you follow after her.

she’s already up a flight somehow right when you reach the bottom of the stairwell, you catch her hair just barely and shout up at her,

“danielle!” she looks down to see you breathing a little heavier than normal. “wait!”

“y/n? what are you doing here?”

“i– wait there.” you call out before running up the stairs. danielle doesn’t listen and starts to walk down as well, which leads to you running into her when you clash halfway, accidentally bumping her. “s-sorry.” 

“you’re out of breath.”

inhaling quickly, you nod. “a bit.”

danielle laughs. “why did you run after me?”

“i was um, i was wondering…” you poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, struggling to make eye contact with her. “are you um, well, fuck, sorry– okay, um.”

“take your time.” she teases.

you giggle before looking into her eyes and composing yourself. “do you want to hangout outside of work sometime? i really… like working with you and talking and yeah all of it, but work kind of limits a lot.”

she looks at you with a growing blush fostering her cheeks. one good look at you–messy hair tucked behind your ears, the baby tee hugging you, your flushed face from running, the adorable look you give her as you wait for an answer – danielle nods and her teeth show as she smiles at you.

“i would love that.”

“really?” you ask, eyes widening. you shake your head and laugh to yourself before asking, “when is good for you?”

“i’m not doing anything right now, are you?”

“i need to pick my cousin up soon but that’s it.”

“okay! you should go pick up your cousin and we can head downtown?”

“oh, now? today?” you say in disbelief; danielle hasn’t given you a chance to plan or mentally prepare for this. you’re already winded, but this is like a tornado picking you up and throwing you over to another continent. “i mean, yes, that’s perfect, yeah.”

“pick me up later then, that alright?”

“i’ll text you when hyein– er, when i drop my cousin off.”

“perfect, i’ll see you then?”

“yes, mhm.”

–

you’ve never driven so fast, nor have you gotten ready so quickly. your cousin gripped the door handle tightly as you sped fifteen miles over the limit in a neighborhood, glancing at your concentrated, flushed face.

usually, hyein is the one rushing home after school since it makes her homesick. but today, the unexpected sight of you bursting into the house, darting to your room, and emerging five minutes later with a denim jacket, jeans, and makeup on left her wide-eyed.

hyein’s laying on the couch when she catches you fixing your hair in the mirror, clenching your jaw and taking a deep breath.

“what’s up with you.”

“danielle.”

“elaborate?”

“i dropped her home and asked her to hangout and then i was like ‘oh okay when?’ and she’s basically saying that now, today, like later. i have to pick her up like right now– wait, do i look good? too much? too little? is it–”

“you look fine y/n, very pretty. i think danielle will appreciate it.”

“you sure?”

hyein sighs and stands up, you’re a little taller then her, so she has to tilt her head up just barely to fix your hair and pat down your jacket. 

“stop stressing, it’s just a hangout, no? you didn’t say it was a date did you?”

shit. 

“i mean no, but–”

“okay so stop stressing and go pick her up!” hyein rolls her eyes at you. “you’ll do great kid.”

“who are you calling kid?” 

“blah blah blah, go get out the house.”

you look at her defeatedly, brows curled up and a pout played on your lips. hyein simply laughs at you before you grab your keys, tote bag, and head out the door.

-

you reach her apartment complex and spot her outside, waiting while engrossed in her phone. danielle jumps when a car honks at her, but then she sees you in the driver’s seat. a smile spreads across her face, and she runs over to you, her excitement palpable.

danielle gets in the passengers seat. “hello again.”

“hi.”

“downtown? are we going to metro or are you going to park there.”

“it’s a surprise,” you smirk mischieviously before starting to drive. danielle giggles and trusts your little ‘surprise.’

the car ride is filled with laughter as you two sing along to your favorite songs. despite having slightly different music tastes, there are many songs that you both enjoy and can belt out together until you find a good spot to park in the city.

danielle waits for you as you pay for parking, looking out at the social city and lovely views. but one view is lovelier than the city, lovelier than everything really. her lips turn up when she looks at you pressing the button and grabbing the ticket that’s dispensed out. 

you fix your hair. “okay, before we go to the surprise did you want to check out the stores?”

“i don’t go downtown too often, so i don’t know what’s good.”

“me neither,” you shrug, then look around. “the city is big, we can surely find something we both like. i hope you like exploring.”

“if it’s with you, then why wouldn’t i like exploring?”

you're caught off guard by the compliment, opting for a chuckle to hide how it makes your heart run a marathon and your tummy twist and turn.

three hours pass but you swear it’s only been thirty minutes. 

the two of you walked everywhere, exploring small cafes, charming clothing stores, and vintage record shops. danielle made sure to take as many pictures of you as possible, insisting on "capturing the moment" and telling you that you're "adorable." her reasons made you giggle nervously, each compliment warming your heart.

you hold onto danielle’s bag of clothes and trinkets she had bought – you practically had to fight her to simply hold the bag – as you lead her down an alleyway. she’s following you mindlessly, not questioning your sudden change in plans since it must be part of your oh-so-lovely surprise.

“i’ve had a lovely time with you, we should spend time together outside of work much more often.” she says softly, turning to look at you and smile. she’s glowing. 

it's five in the evening, and the sun is beginning to set, golden rays seeping through the little cracks in the alleyway. each beam enhances her already striking features. her eyes shine when they catch the light, turning her brown eyes into a mesmerizing gold. the wind tousles her curly hair, making her even more beautiful with each stray strand. the way her teeth peek out when her smile widens makes your knees weak—you could stare at her for hours.

she snaps you out your trance. “y/n, can i ask you something?”

“yeah, what is it?”

“did you not like me when we first met?” 

you two continue to walk, but you’ve fallen silent. looking down at the ground, you shake your head and turn to look at her again.

“no, no that’s not it.” you shake your hands in defense. “i’m just… not a morning person, and very cautious.”

she giggles, “what?”

“when i did closing, all my coworkers were terrible. it was a nightmare despite being awake at the time, you know? and it’s different waking up so early for me, i’m not a morning person in any way.”

“i’m aware.” danielle interjects, making you roll your eyes and shove her with your shoulder playfully. 

you look around the area, clicking your tongue as everything starts to become recognizable. grabbing her hand, you find a little exit and lead her to a small area overlooking a part of the city near the river. it’s beautiful, and danielle is mesmerized by the view.

from where you both stand, you watch her mouth fall open, her hand almost covering it. she sighs in awe, taking in the scene—the buildings with some windows lit and others dark, the flowers in full bloom, and the trees with vibrant leaves.

“y/n, was this the surprise?”

you start to walk ahead, then turn around and motion with your head for her to follow. she watches you sit down on a rock that luckily has space for two people. she sits down next to you, watching as you prop yourself up with both hands behind your back.

you both sit in comfortable silence, the golden hues of the sunset reflecting off the river and casting a warm glow over everything. danielle’s eyes dart from the view to you, her smile never fading. you catch her gaze and smile back, feeling a sense of peace and contentment. the moment feels perfect–it is perfect.

“this is the surprise, and also kind of my apology for being an ass to you the first few weeks of working.”

danielle admires the side of your face as you watch the view, the sun hitting you beautifully, tracing each feature she adores the most.

“i’m not a morning person, and i guess i was stubborn and always pissy. i didn’t want to talk a lot because i was scared of you and soobin – mostly you – being terrible like the closing staff.” you meet her eyes with your own. “but you’re far from that.”

she does that thing where her eyes soften and her lips form something between a pout and a smile, much like the time she talked about a puppy she ran into on the street. but now, the emotion of adoration and awe is much more intense. her gaze seems to hold a deeper meaning, reflecting the beauty of the moment and the bond you share. 

“y/n, you’re so…” she covers her face with a hand, concealing her blush. “you’re wonderful.”

“i just wanted to share a view i really like with you, since i appreciate you a lot, you know? and we’ve been getting close so… i just… yeah.”

avoiding her look, you turn to watch the view again. yeah, you’d much rather be staring at her while she admires the view, but you can’t possibly do that when the sun is exposing your crimson cheeks.

“can i take a picture of you?” she asks, pulling out her phone. “you’re just so gorgeous right now, i really want to have something to look back on later.”

look back on you? you?

“yeah, sure.” you respond bashfully.

she holds her phone up, then looks at you, grins, and says, “cheese!”

you chuckle and shoot her a lovely, toothy, beaming smile. “cheese!”

–

the two of you alternate between talking and admiring the view for another two hours until the sun starts to set. by then, danielle has ended up close to you, your arms touching purposefully.

as you walk back to your car, a gust of wind brushes past and danielle shivers. she's only wearing a cropped t-shirt and sweatpants, which isn’t ideal for the cooler night. without a second thought, you slip off your jacket and drape it over her shoulders, grinning.

“thank you, y/n,” she says, looking up at you through her eyelashes. “you’re not cold?” 

you shake your head, the warmth from the evening and the moment enough to keep you comfortable. “nope, i’m good,” you reply, enjoying the way she pulls your jacket closer around herself. it looks even better on her.

“i have a longsleeve on, and i don’t want you getting sick dani.”

her eyes widen and she gasps. “oh my god.”

“what?”

“you called me dani!”

you ‘tsk’ at her and shake your head, but smile to yourself. “yeah and?”

“you never ever call me that.”

“well i’m very fond of you now so… dani it is.”

both of you continue on to the car, enjoying each others presence while lingering close.

–

you reach her apartment complex and somehow those five – almost six – hours seemed like they weren’t enough. the last thing you wanted was the night to end, but here you are, parked in front of the entrance.

danielle hesitates in her seat, not wanting the night to end either. “hey, just to clarify…”

“yes?”

“did you… was this a date?” 

you melt. “at first i just wanted to hangout with you, but as soon as you got into my car when i picked you up i really wanted it to be. what did you think it was?”

she relaxes into the seat and lets out a sigh of relief. “oh thank god. you were so adorable and cute the whole time and the thought of this just being coworkers– no, friends, hanging out was dreadful.”

“well then, it was definitely a date.”

she hums before silence follows. you two sit there smiling like idiots at each other, the air filled with excitement and adoration.

“i’ll see you at work tomorrow?” danielle says it like it’s a question, but it’s guaranteed unless something deadly catches you by surprise. even then, you’d still make an effort to see danielle.

“yeah. i’ll pick you up too.”

“great,” danielle mumbles. without any warning, she quickly reaches over, placing a hand on the back of your neck and pressing her lips to your cheek. her eyes close, and you freeze in place as she hides herself by pressing her nose into your skin. “i really, really enjoyed everything. i like you so, so much.”

her voice sends a shiver down your spine, and the feeling is heightened when she kisses your cheek again, lingering before she pulls away.

she winks at you before waving. “have a good night, y/n. sleep well.”

your mouth is agape, and you can’t even move. you sit there, watching her walk back to her apartment complex. she looks back once more to wave and smile again. you’re flushed, your heart racing faster than any f1 car. you realize you’re the happiest you’ve been in ages.

–

danielle squeals as she enters the apartment, making minji and hanni – who are playing some card game – jump and yelp themselves.

“what the hell man?” hanni yells.

“oh my god it was a date.”

“well obviously.” minji responds, watching danielle flop onto the couch. “she ran for you just to ask to hangout, i don’t even do that for you guys.”

“maybe because you secretly hate us.”

“hanni shut up you’re no better.”

danielle kicks her feet, smiling like a little kid and sighing dreamily. minji and hanni give each other a glance, then shrug at each other. 

“she took me to this wonderful view and oh my god it was beautiful but not as beautiful as her like oh my god and talking to her is so fun and natural and she’s so sweet and–”

minji cuts her off, noticing the jacket she has on. “is the denim hers?”

“yes.” danielle says smittenly, she’s lovestruck. “and i kissed her cheek just now.”

“oh wooow maybe your flirting can get you places.” 

danielle grabs a pillow and throws it at hanni, making the trio all laugh together. 

–

work is normal the next day—well, for the most part. it's just much more annoying since the two of you can’t be hopelessly in love in front of soobin and all the customers. after all, it’s a professional setting.

you can’t help but steal glances at her whenever you get the chance, especially when she’s taking orders. she’s so sweet and friendly with everyone, and it only makes you fall for her even more. if hyein were here, she’d probably roll her eyes and pretend to gag at how hopelessly in love you are.

danielle catches you staring after she’s finished putting a customers croissant in their bag, smirking at you knowingly. 

“hey, do your job!”

“oh shut up…”

she laughs before grabbing your wrist, dragging you to the door to the back. she looks over to soobin, who’s cleaning the counters, and shouts, “we’ll be back! i need y/n to help reach something for me.”

he shoots a thumbs up before starting to wipe again. danielle leads you back to the storage room giggling, then closes the door to leave you two alone.

“hey, we’re still on the clock.” you warn.

“i know, i know.” danielle starts to wrap her arms around your neck, pulling you closer. “i wanted to do something i didn’t get to last night.”

you clench your jaw. “right.”

“mhm.” she says, staring at your lips. 

you couldn’t resist any longer. with a surge of giddy excitement, you close the distance between you and danielle, eagerly cupping her face in your hands. as your lips meet hers, they are just as soft and inviting as you had imagined, yet the reality surpasses any expectation. 

she pulls away first to mumble against your lips, “you’re lovely.”

“you’re even better.”

danielle closes the distance, you both smile against each other and savor the short amount of time you both have in the storage closet. kissing her is everything, she’s just perfect.

time seems to stand still as you both melt into the kiss, a tender warmth spreading through every inch of your being. it’s as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the sensation of her warmth, the taste of her lips, and the intoxicating feeling of being so close to someone you adore.

when she starts to cup your cheeks, you conclude that maybe mornings aren’t so bad–definitely not if danielle is in the mix.

[yourbasicqueerie]

can we hear ur lilia headcanons... as many as possible i am starving

be careful another what you ask lol, these r some of my fave ones:

( i am and will be ignoring her death. try me hoes)

• that woman can cook, she’ll make you a MEAAANNNN pesto alla trapanese and don’t get me started on traditional sicilian dishes. can’t bake for shit tho.

• she sews most of her clothing herself.

• that woman has had some questionable gigs to rank up some cash, some of those being:

- a history teacher who made some questionable comments about vampires and their uselessness in actual fighting ( “you know kids, vampires are absolutely shit heads, you think they are going to be these big scary people but noooo, terrible at hand in hand combat too” . )

-a hand reader at various kid parties. the amount of times she’s had to tell moms that no, she will not know the gender of their child is astounding ( . )

-a jazz singer at some dingy bar ( she got approached by a big time producer once, but refused to do anything with him after he made some off handed comment about her hair)

• talking about hair, she’s very very proud of her curls, she might not be keen on chemical peels as much ( smth jen later got her on) but if you want to talk hair care? she’s your girl

• after she got kicked out of her place, she moved into agatha’s house and took over the couch. though she will never say it, the couch is the most comfortable thing she has ever slept on ( maybe even the MAAASSIVE bed she must have had in her young days)

• talking about her young days, even though she was not from a royal family, YOU CANNOT TELL ME she wasn’t somehow related to the médici family, i mean LOOK AT HER!!!

• she owns a small artemisia gentilieschi portrait of herself she commissioned while at florence.

• her favorite colour, contrary to popular opinion, is not yellow, but orange

• she sings in the shower, beautifully and loudly so. ( can’t exaggerate the loud part, you can hear her from the whole house, the coven does not complain tho, they acc quite like the everything shower days, it means they get at least 40 minutes of lilia’s singing)

• when drunk, lilia is so chatty and touchy, agatha is not keen on it, but rio loves it, their karaoke duos are astonishing too.

• she laughs the loudest between all of them

• agatha full on laid all her mommy issues in this woman ( now, if that is to say that if she and agatha were to have sex, agatha would call her mommy, or if agatha sees lilia as a motherly figure is up to you)

• the whole of the coven depends on her, if lilia is gone then they all fall apart

• she is a sucker for an aldi, would spend hours grocery shopping if she could.

• wine enthusiast lilia calderu

• polyglot lilia calderu

[sunny44]

Meeting Hazel

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Wife&mom!reader

Warnings: hospital, mentions of birth

Summary: Y/n and Charles welcome their second born.

Finally, the hustle and bustle of the hospital had subsided. After hours of labor, I finally held our little Hazel in my arms. Her angelic face, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, seemed too perfect to be real. I looked at Charles, my husband, who smiled radiantly beside me, his eyes shining with pure admiration and love.

“You did an amazing job, amour.” he murmured, kissing my forehead tenderly. “She’s perfect.”

I smiled, tears of happiness streaming down my face.

“Thank you, Charles. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He smiled. “Literally couldn’t.”

“Very funny.” He gently brushed my forehead. “She’s perfect.”

“She is.” I smiled, looking at her. “But it’s the second time I get pregnant and the second time they look just like you.”

“What can I say, I’m very good at what I do.” He held my hand delicately, his fingers intertwining with mine.

“I’ll always be by your side, Y/n. And now we have our little family complete.”

As we got lost in the emotion of being parents again, a kind nurse gently reminded us that it was time for Charles to go home, take a shower, and rest a bit. He nodded, reluctant to leave our side, but knowing he needed a moment to recharge. But before leaving, he promised to bring Harvé, our three-year-old son, to meet his baby sister.

It was already night, and Charles waited for me to take a shower because I didn’t want to leave her with anyone else, so the nurses helped me in the shower, and after I got out, he said goodbye and left, promising that he and Harvé would be here first thing in the morning.

I went to breastfeed her and held Hazel in my arms, admiring every detail of her little face. She was so small and fragile, and she looked just like Charles.

I was almost certain that she would at least resemble me a little bit, but no, she was his spitting image, just like Harvé is.

Even their eye color was the same.

…

When Charles returned the next morning with Harvé, my heart filled with joy at seeing them walk through the door. Harve ran up to me, his eyes shining with excitement.

“Mommy! I came to meet Hazel!” he said, trying to climb onto the bed, and Charles lifted him and put him there.

“Be careful buddy. Don’t hug mommy too hard.” He agrees and lies down next to me and hugs me.

I hugged him affectionately, feeling tears welling up in my eyes again.

“She’s here, Harvé. Do you want to meet her?”

He nodded eagerly, his curious eyes fixed on little Hazel in my arms. Charles approached, smiling proudly.

“Harvé, this is your little sister, Hazel.”

he said, holding Harve in his lap so he could see better. “And Hazel, this is your big brother Harvé.”

Harvé looked at Hazel with admiration, his expression softening as he looked at her little face.

“She’s so tiny, daddy.” he observed, gently touching Hazel’s hand. “Does she knows I have Grand-père name?”

“You can tell her later when se wakes up.” He nodded.

I smiled, watching the instant bond forming between them.

“Do you want to hold her, Harvé?” I asked, carefully offering Hazel to him.

He nodded enthusiastically, his eyes shining with excitement. Carefully, he held Hazel in his arms, his expression one of pure happiness. I obviously supported her weight, she was just lying in his arms.

“Hello, Hazel.” he said softly, stroking her face with his finger. “I’m your big brother, Harvé. I’ll always protect you.”

My heart melted at Harvé’s kind words. He was so sweet and gentle, so ready to love his little sister from the moment we told him I was pregnant. I knew they would have a special bond that would last forever.

As he held Hazel carefully, he suddenly remembered something and asked to get off the bed and ran out of the room. He returned shortly after, holding a small stuffed animal in his hands.

“I brought this for you, Hazel.” he said, handing the stuffed animal that Carlos gave him when he was born and he’s giving to his little sister. “It’s my favorite bear, uncle Carlos gave it to me. I hope you like it as much as I do.”

I smiled, touched by the look of pure happiness in Harvé’s eyes as he gifted Hazel.

“Oh sweetheart, thank you so much and I’m sure she’ll love it.” I said, holding his hand gratefully. “And Is also gonna help her sleep like it did to you.”

Harvé smiled widely, his eyes shining with joy.

“I love you, mommy. I love you, daddy. I love you, Hazel.” he said, looking at each of us with love and tenderness.

We hugged him affectionately, feeling the love and gratitude flooding our hearts. I knew that from that moment on, our family would be united forever, facing life’s challenges together and celebrating its joys.

As I watched Charles hold Hazel in his arms, Harvé beside him with his stuffed bear, I felt complete. The journey to this point had been long and challenging, but now, with our little family by my side, I knew it had all been worth it. And as I held Charles’s hand and watched our children together, I knew I couldn’t ask for anything more in life.

Bonus scene!

Y/nleclerc instagram post

Liked by @charlesleclerc, @maxverstappen, @yourmom and others 293729

Y/nleclerc These past few months have been an emotional rollercoaster, Charles and I welcomed our daughter into the world and we couldn't be happier. Thank you to all our friends, family, and even fans who have given us so much support during this time.

Charles, myself, Harvé and little Hazel are incredibly grateful for everything.

[mlqueen89]

One | Flyboy 

so cross your thoughtless heart  she's the albatross  she is here to destroy you 

The Albatross by Taylor Swift | TTPD |     

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x f!oc (top gun: maverick) 

rating: 18+ (minors dni) 

w a r n i n gs : smut, mentions of masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, multiple orgasms, one-night stand, jake being a cocky, self-assured man who leaves no crumbs after he eats. 

word count: 8,997

summary: in affairs of the heart, eleanor rigby has one strict rule: no pilots. Less than 24 hours back in the US, she breaks it. 

A/N: this whole entire fic literally started with the (full) name of eleanor. i also have a radar tech in the family, so that helped a bit. snowball met a steep hill and picked up speed. i've planned for ~10(ish) chapters, but it may be open ended with a few more random scenes/chapters here and there.  

proud to say that this one was beta read by my bestest friend, so you know she was mean to me helpful. 

also! i saw the asks - super excited to dive into those, tysm. ♡♡

❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ next chapter ❥

Eleanor Rigby hadn’t wanted to go to the Halloween party, not really.    

The boxes stacked in the spare bedroom of her friend Nicole’s four-bedroom house desperately needed unpacking and the 10-hour time change from Western Turkey to San Diego was kicking her ass. She’d done about as much unpacking as was required to find a suitable outfit for her new job in the morning, folded them carefully and set them out.   

When Nicole had invited her out, Ellie had fallen asleep, mid-unpack of the rest of her belongings, waking only when the bubbly blonde burst into the room and jumped onto the foot of her bed, dressed in all her glory as Barbie.   

“Ellie does San Diego! Let’s goooo.” Nicole tugged at Ellie’s arm as Yanique flicked on the light in the ensuite, reapplying a purple-ish shade of lipstick as Ellie blinked against the sudden light in her dim room, her arm jiggled aggressively by an enthusiastic Nic.   

Bleary-eyed, her voice just a croak, Ellie politely declined, muttering something about starting her new job early the next morning and making a good impression. Nicole eventually relented with a huff and left, a little less than impressed, with their other two roommates, Yan and Sophie, in tow.   

Within 45 minutes, her phone buzzing against the hardtop of the nightstand, the voice messages started flowing in.   

Nicole’s first voice message was short, 12 seconds. Ellie’s thumb jabbed at the play button as she gathered the dishes from her girl dinner of toast and coffee and used her elbow to push down on the paddle door handle, making her way to the shared kitchen.   

Ellieeeeeeee... Eleanor Rigbyyyyyy ....   

There was a dull thud of base in the background somewhere, behind the long, pronounced whine of Nicole’s voice as she sang the beginning of her namesake Beatles song, horribly off-key.   

Ellie, please you have to come out. It’s Halloween, the most magical night of the year! Just make an appearance. An hour, tops. Please?   

Ellie moved through the kitchen, rinsing out her cup and placing it on the drying rack. Her head was in the fridge, scrounging around for an apple in the crisper drawer, when the next three messages came in.   

Please, pretty, pretty, pretty, please with like, a million cherries on top, even though I know you hate cherries.    

Bradley’s not here yet, Yan already left with a weird guy in a Frankenstein costume—do we know what kink that is? That has to be a kink, right? I’m not kink shaming though, I promise. He was just like... weird. Do you think I should get her to drop her location? Like, just in case?   

Soph is requesting Chappell Roan for the like, twentieth time, and I think she’s going to start a fight with the DJ about being an anti-feminist incel if he doesn’t play “HOT TO GO!” again... did you know that she broke up with that witch, wiccan girl from Hinge? HingeWitch? The one that had that study of cheeses in her bio, that blue cheese description—Ellie thought she heard Nicole pause to gag—anyway, I think she thinks she got cursed or something...    

The voice message cut off even though Nicole’s tone suggested that she wasn’t finished talking about Sophie’s ex.   

There was a garbled message in between the last one and the next, one in which Ellie could hear Nicole begging the DJ not to leave and promising to talk to her friend about the excessive requests for Chappell Roan.   

Don’t abandon me in my time of need, El. Desperate need. Like, jumping off of very tall somethings desperacy.   

Ellie smirked. Nicole, her very best friend in the whole wide world, quite possibly the vast universe, was, in fact, very dramatic.   

Quickly, before another voice message could roll in, Ellie hit record on her own before she bit into her apple, wrestling the third box out of a teetering tower of boxes in the corner of her room and hit send.   

Fine. I’ll be there in twenty.   

The response pinged back quickly.   

Ohmygodohmygod, thank you! Remember, the theme is Icons through the Ages!   

Wear something sexy. Iconic sexy. Iconically sexy? But not Hawaiian Barbie. Or whatever Soph is dressed up as. I want to say is either Frida Kahalo or Mama Imelda from Coco. Basically, avoid anything with a Mexican gothic vibe.

Once Ellie had managed to pull her vintage leather aviator jacket from the box, the one she’d mislabeled in her hurry to pack everything up, the rest of her costume came together fairly quickly.   

When she found the venue, a small bar off a main street, she still had around 30 seconds to spare on her twenty-minute promise to Nic.   

Eleanor had always known that Nicole was popular, but the Halloween party, a party which Nicole had demurely announced was just “a small thing” with “a few work friends” was in actuality, not quite a small thing.  

Weaving her way through the crowd, Ellie scanned the room, trying to pick out the hot pink of Nicole’s costume or the flower crown Sophie had carefully woven into her voluminous red hair.   

Squeezing her way through a group of Spanish Conquistadors (notably with less armour and more exposed skin than was historically accurate) Ellie paused short of the small DJ booth in the corner of the bar, her eyes still scanning for Nicole when her eyes fell on him.  

Sandy blonde hair peeked out from under a neon sweatband, shoulders stocky and solid in a sleeveless denim vest over a t-shirt that read, No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem. The white sneakers, short shorts, and that unmistakable lanky sway to the beat of Footloose pumping through the venue that could only belong to one person.   

It was Ken.  

Specifically, the Ken to Nicole’s Barbie.    

“Bradshaw?” Ellie called, squinting.  

Ken spun around with the beat of the song, a lopsided grin already on his lips as he faced her. “Holy shit, Rigsy?” Swiftly, Bradley Bradshaw was over to her, scooping Ellie off her feet, squeezing her tightly in a bear hug, shaking her frame slightly with a growl, before she groaned and he set her back down, feather light.   

“You didn’t say you were back stateside.”   

“My flight got in last night.” Ellie shrugged, straightening her jacket and adjusting the thin white scarf around her neck, “Just wanted to surprise you, Rooster.”   

“Well, damn it,” Bradley nodded in approval, all dimples and easy charm, “colour me surprised.”  

It was no wonder Nicole had fallen for him, head over Barbie heels. Even Ellie liked him, and that was saying something.   

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was less pilot and more golden retriever, a good heart wrapped in an all-American charm with an easygoing, dopey grin that made people feel like they’d known him for years. He was the kind of guy who’d lend you his jacket and forget to ask for it back or show up at your door with takeout and Sleepless in Seattle cued up on a streaming service he had to pay an arm and a leg for, because he “just had a feeling.” The Batman who responded to the Emotional Needs and Mercury Retrograde Bat Signal™. The hero the people deserved. Ellie was pretty sure she caught him watching videos of a baby hippo getting into shenanigans at a zoo in China on loop for 14 minutes while Nic tried to pick an episode of Keeping Up With the Kardashians that would really pique his interest and get him invested enough to make it his “new Roman Empire”.  

Ellie remembered the night Nicole and Bradley had met with perfect clarity.   

Nicole had been in the middle of swearing off all men for the foreseeable future, her voice thick with the brand of determination that came with a prosecco-fueled resolution. Ellie had watched as her friend declare a new era of singlehood and Taylor Swift before turning to Sophie, slurring out a request for “gorgeous, single women willing to humor an experimental phase.”   

It wasn’t two minutes later that Nicole lurched forward, losing all her resolve—and her prosecco—in a sudden, graceless bout with the sidewalk.  

As Ellie rubbed her back and tried to get her standing, a group of pilots had come down the street—Bradley Bradshaw among them, flanked by two others they’d later get to know as Phoenix and Bob. Bradley had been the one to stop, eyes quickly scanning the situation, assessing and then moving in with expert precision. He’d peeled off his jacket immediately, holding it out to Nicole as she moaned her embarrassment and weakly gestured at the puddle of what had once been bubbly and appetizers a few feet away.  

“It’s okay,” Bradley had told her, voice soft and reassuring. “If you throw up on this one, I’ll just get another jacket tomorrow.” When she’d protested, he’d grinned, shrugging in that effortless way of his. “Honestly, they just give these jackets to anyone,” he’d joked, as if he hadn’t spent years earning the right to wear it and every single patch stitched on it.  

Nicole had blinked up at him, mascara smudged, his jacket draped over her shoulders, looking at him like he was some knight out of one of the many cheesy rom-coms she loved. And for once, Ellie hadn’t blamed her for it.  

That night, Bradley Bradshaw had seen her best friend at her worst and treated her like she was worth sticking around for.  

And that was Rooster in a nutshell—a steady warmth that lingered long after he was gone, the guy who would do just about anything to make Nicole smile, including, but not limited to, dressing up in the ridiculous costume he was currently wearing.  

Nudging her, Rooster grinned. “So,” he drawled, “does this mean I finally get the best friend stamp of approval?”  

Ellie rolled her eyes, feigning a reluctant sigh, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d approved of him long before now. “Don’t let it go to your head, Bradshaw.”  

“Too late,” he laughed, mimicking his head expanding dramatically before throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Already there.”  

Rooster grabbed his drink off the small table bordering the dance floor, draining the glass. “Love the costume, by the way," he sucked his teeth against the burn of the whiskey he’d downed, “I’ve not seen one Amelia Earhart here.” He craned his neck, searching in the dimly lit room.  

“You think the goggles are too much?” Ellie adjusted the strap on her head, pushing a loose strand of hair up underneath the band. “I think they might be cutting off circulation to my brain..."  

“An aviator is only as good as their headgear,” Rooster tapped the top of his head. “You’re just missing your call sign.” 

“Guess you must not be a very good one, then.” Ellie smirked, snapping the neon sweatband on his head with a laugh.  

Rooster levelled her with a narrowed gaze, but there was no heat behind it, “one day someone is going to love that you’re kind of mean.”  

“Sorry, Bradshaw—” Ellie pointed at her ears, shrugging as she stepped back, a smirk on her lips, retreating into the crowd “—I can’t hear you.”  

Rooster flipped her off, in an affectionate way, she assumed. “Sit and circumnavigate, Rigby.” 

With another laugh, Ellie turned and set her sights on the bar, squeezing her way through a grouping of zombies and a Michonne, who stood shoulder to shoulder with a Negan, complete with Lucille, tugging her scarf out of Zombie #1s grasp on the other side. 

The last tug, sharp and forceful, sent her stumbling over the tattered chiffon hem of the La Llorona’s dress at her back.  

Ellie braced for the rough landing as she attempted and failed to steady herself. She felt the fall in her stomach, the way it pitched as gravity pulled her down. She figured it served her right, the swift intervention of karma coming for her after she’d insulted its favourite pilot — Rooster was going to have an absolute field day over this. 

Ellie had been so lost in the idea of bracing for the impact of the ground, hard and sticky, she didn’t notice that she hadn’t fallen until she looked up and saw a lopsided smirk and green eyes, looking down at her. The realization there were hands hooked under her arms, holding her up came quickly after. 

“And here I was thinkin’ that Amelia Earhart had a reputation of staying upright.” The man was all smirk, dimples ghosting his cheeks, as Ellie blinked up at him, processing the situation. 

“Guess I’m overdue for a refresher course on emergency landings.” Ellie cleared her throat, righting herself with his help before she tugged her bomber jacket back into place. 

When she glanced up from her improved angle, Ellie could see just how striking he was—sharp jaw, confident eyes, and a natural swagger that suggested he knew it, suggested he knew women sized him up in more ways than one. 

“What are you drinking, Amelia?” 

“Nothing, yet.” 

“Let’s fix that, shall we?”  

The music pumped anew, the DJ spinning a Thriller remix, as she approached the bar, the presence of the man at her back as she weaved her way through the crowd. She could feel the hover of his hand at her lower back, ready to catch her if she took another tumble. She hadn’t been expecting much from the night—just a few drinks, maybe some small talk with Nic, a short discussion with Sophie on Chappell Roan’s representation of duality in the midwestern identity to prove that she’d come out and spent the appropriate amount of time there. But as she took the beer the bartender slid her way and the man leaned against the bar next to her, she couldn’t help but smile. She definitely hadn’t been expecting this. 

“Let me guess,” Ellie’s eyes scanned his costume then, taking a moment to take stock. Carefully, she scanned the skull patch, dagger in its teeth, VFA-151 stitched in below, the chevrons, patches, carefully piecing the images and small details of his costume together before she replied, eyebrow raised, “you’re a pilot—” she paused to sip her drink, her eyes falling on the patch on his bicep, “—Navy.”  

A grin pulled up the corner of his mouth as he gave her a slow once-over, a scan he didn’t bother to hide, before he leaned casually against the bar beside her. “Hangman,” he said with a smirk, and Ellie’s eyes dipped to the patch on his chest, the golden wings stitched above the call sign. “Best pilot you’ll ever meet.” 

She tilted her head, gaze sliding from his call sign back up to his face. “Best pilot, huh?” She gave him a once-over that was part skepticism, part intrigue. “You Navy guys really know how to sell it.” 

Ellie leaned into the bit hard. Tonight, she was Amelia, and he was Hangman, the name stitched into hundreds, if not thousands, of storebought costumes. If she were Navy, she might have been insulted. 

If he heard the skepticism in her tone, he ignored it and chuckled, not breaking eye contact as he matched her smirk. “Only because it’s true. Besides,” he said, letting his voice drop lower, “don’t have to sell anything when you’ve got it all.”  

Ellie raised an eyebrow, meeting his challenge head-on. “Big words for someone who still hasn’t proven a thing.”  

“Oh, don’t worry, darlin’,” he drawled, leaning in just close enough to lower his voice to a rumble, “I’m very good at proving myself.”  

She laughed softly, a glint in her eyes as she set her drink down. “Okay then, why don’t you start with this—” Ellie leaned in, her finger tapped lightly on the golden wings over his heart, her touch lingering. “Explain why they call you Hangman.”  

She waited, waited to see if he’d squirm, held his gaze and paused for the story that was sure to come. Some feeble attempt at role playing for an unpracticed character, just a call sign with no real bite, no real story.  

He smirked, clearly used to that question but still savoring her attention. “I’ll leave that for you to figure out,” he teased, straightening, “after all, you strike me as a curious type. And I’d hate to ruin the mystery.”  

Ellie chuckled, leaning back as she looked him over. That was his game, wasn’t it? A tennis match, a steady volley and lob. Two could play at that game. “Maybe I’ll get bored before I do.” Ellie added a shrug to punctuate her words for effect.  

“Somehow, I don’t think so.” His voice held a hint of challenge, his gaze lingering, his grin lazy but sharp. He straightened up, hand resting on the bar, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.  

“Guess we’ll see,” she murmured, lifting her drink to her lips, her gaze unwavering as she took another sip. She looked away for just a second, but not before she caught his confident grin widening.  

“Believe me,” he said with that maddening confidence of his as he leaned in, so close that his voice was low, the heat of his words warming the shell of her ear, “I’ve got plenty of ways to keep you entertained.”

Ellie had barely unlocked the front door to Nicole’s place when he was on her, his hands on her hips as he pressed her into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He kissed her like a man starved, his fingers reaching up to tangle in her hair at the base of her neck, anchoring her to him.  

This was the culmination of the barely veiled innuendos, the heavy-handed flirting that had gone on all evening.  

When he’d slipped out of the bar and onto the street with her, Ellie knew what would happen. He knew what would happen. She could tell in the way his eyes raked over her, all want, pupils blown wide. He wanted her and she wasn’t shy to admit, maybe not out loud, but to herself, that she wanted him too.  

“Maybe we should—” Ellie’s breath was uneven, her mouth missing his the moment they broke apart, just long enough for her to tip her head in the direction of the stairs.  

“Yeah—” his reply was equally breathy, his eyes on her lips even as she spoke, his tongue jutting out to whet his lips. A thrill shot through her, one that dipped low and pulsed between her legs.   

She was wet already, she could feel the slickness of herself, the material of her panties weighted with the evidence. In response, in a swift motion, he picked her up and Ellie instinctively spread her legs so that they framed his waist, her ankles locking at his low back. Ellie didn’t need to be told, she gripped him with her thighs, squeezing tight as he chuckled.   

“Good girl,” he smirked against her mouth before he kissed her again, deeply, his tongue pushing inside to taste hers.  

When they reached the top of the stairs, she broke from him only just long enough to give directions to her room in as few words as humanly possible, reaching out to grip the door frame of her room as he carried her down the hall and almost walked past it.  

Shutting the door behind them with his foot, he wasted no time in pressing her up against the wall. His fingers worried the buttons, slipped each from their place, starting from the bottom up as Ellie took her bomber jacket off, tossing it and the goggles to the floor before she joined him in working on the buttons from top down.  

“So many—” his breath came out with an edge of frustration and Ellie gave up on her buttons to tug the zip of his flight suit down to where her hips met his waist.    

“Just rip it,” Ellie huffed out, voice unsteady as his lips dipped to her neck, teeth grazing the spot where her collarbone met the base of her throat. One less thing between his mouth and her skin warranted the sacrifice of a shirt.  

He didn’t waste time, didn’t question and the sudden coolness on her skin and the sound of the buttons hitting the floor, scattered, had her grinning. She liked a man who followed orders. “You owe me a new shirt, Captain.”  

“Lieutenant,” his voice rumbled into her skin, making quick work of her bra next. By the time it hit the floor to join the other articles of clothing, his hands were on her breasts, teasing her nipples, every pinch and pressure, every touch of his lips, every nip of his teeth sending surges of raw pleasure pulsing down.  

Ellie hated the way he ripped the sounds, raw, unabashed, desperate, from her. Hated how she’d folded under his smooth charm — she could have stopped it, could have said good night and left him at her door. Touched herself, alone, in bed, thinking about the way he’d been so eager to prove he was the best, picture how his touch would have felt, how he would have filled her as she coaxed herself over the edge and leave it at that.  

But she hadn’t, she’d wanted him —she’d own that. She wanted him to fuck her stupid. She could feel him, the hard outline of his cock pressing against her as he held her to him. 

“Easy, darlin’,” he chuckled lowly, rough around the edges as she shifted, reaching to touch him over top the Nomex. “We haven’t even started yet….”  

He was across to her bed in a few easy strides, carefully setting her back so that she sank into the pillows, his hand lingering at her waist as he leaned over her, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. His gaze held hers, steady and unhurried, as he let his fingers trace lightly over the edge of her jaw, his index finger coming to rest under her chin, his thumb smudging her bottom lip.  

As his thumb traced her lip, smudging her lipstick, she caught his hand and pulled his index finger into her mouth, closing her lips around the digit, tongue tracing purposeful patterns as she slowly dragged it out. Her eyes never leaving his as he huffed out a heavy breath, a thrill running through her. 

“You should know that I have a rule, sweetheart.” He murmured, leaning over her so that his arms framed her, so close that his nose brushed hers as he spoke, his voice low, deep, edged by the hard edge of desire. “Ladies first.” 

Her pants were off quickly, leaving her in nothing but a whisp of material separating her from the man who wanted all of her. She heard the jingle of dog tags as he lifted the white shirt that had been under the flight suit over his head and abandoned it. 

Before she could sit up to see him, stripped down to his boxers, he was back on her, lower.  

Softly, he kissed her inner ankle, the next kiss trailing higher, her calf, another on the inside of her knee and the next, on her inner thigh, so close to where she wanted him, she was sure he could feel the heat radiating from her core.  

She was a wreck, a hot, wet wreck and she was barely holding onto the part of her that was ready to beg him to touch her. The part of her that wanted all of him in a way that was driving her mad every moment he wasn’t touching her.  

“What do you want?” His voice was steady, measured as he touched her over her panties, his rough fingers brushing over the dampened spot of the material. The sound that left his lips, a quiet hissing intake of breath, told her he knew what he was doing to her, knew that he had her right where he wanted her.   

In response, Ellie writhed, sensitive to even the smallest brush and despite herself, a small moan left her lips, one she couldn’t have contained even if she had wanted to. What was the question again?  

He moved up from the altar between her legs, nipping a sensitive spot on her side where her ribs ended before he remedied it with a soft kiss, blazing a trail up her body with his mouth. Carefully, holding himself just above her, he bent to tease her nipple with his tongue, whetting the already hard peak, before he closed his lips around one and then moved to the other.  

Ellie was barely holding on, her vision edged with haze as he looked up to finally locked eyes with her. If he kept it up at this rate, he wouldn’t even need to fuck her.  

“What do you want?” His voice was husky, his body propped up over her as Ellie tried to order her thoughts, process them into coherent words. “You going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?”  

She could feel him against her thigh, hard, ready, the thin material of his boxers the only thing between her and all of him. There was some small satisfaction, a thrill that swept through her and coiled low in her stomach, that there was a part of him he was barely controlling a part of him that wanted to be inside of her now. The wet spot of precum on his underwear ghosted against her bare skin and she swore she could feel him twitch.  

Hangman, she’d asked at the bar, explain why they call you Hangman.   

Mystery solved.  

“I want—” she started, barely a whisper as he kissed the corner of her mouth, kissed her jawline, his fingers slipping under the top waistband of her panties as he continued to nip at the most sensitive spots on her neck.  

“You want…?” He prompted, waiting, even as his hand slipped lower, slow, calculated.   

“I want you to—,” Ellie lifted her head and muffled her moan into his shoulder as his fingers found her slick clit, massaging lazy circles, steady, calm, “Mmm.” Her nails bit into the muscles on his back as her head fell to the pillow, arching into his touch.  

“Guess, it is then.” He murmured, that infuriating smirk in his words as he pulled his hand away from her slick, stopping the steady rhythm she’d just gotten used to. She whined after the loss, but he didn’t give her much time to mourn before he was down between her legs again, his fingers dragging her panties off.  

Swiftly, he pulled her to the bottom of the bed, throwing her legs over his shoulders. Ellie gasped, her hips bucking up into his tongue as he swept it up through her folds. Calmly, as she inched closer to unravelling completely, ascending the slope at dizzying speed, he gripped her hips, controlling her movements as she pressed down against his mouth. 

She could feel the pressure building with every expert movement of his tongue over her, through her. Reaching down, she combed her fingers through his hair, gripped into it and tugged him over, directing him to her need.  

“Oh, god….” Ellie whined, the words just barely words as they dissolved into a moan, her free hand gripping the mess of sheets underneath her.  

“Hangman’s fine, gorgeous.” The response was quick, cocky. The response of a man who knew exactly what he was doing to her and taking his time. 

“Wait,” Ellie’s hips chased after his mouth, a groan on her lips as she threw her arm across her eyes. “Don’t stop—.”

He was torturing her now, bringing her just to the edge and then allowing her to come down just enough to bring her back up again. He was fucking good and he knew it. It was going to drive her insane with want. 

“You have to say please, sweetheart,” he murmured, the heat of his breath on her inner thigh almost too much, carefully, he touched her with his thumb, a light pressure as he teased her. Ellie could hear the smirk in his words.  

Words. What were words? Ellie's mind was short-circuiting. Short-circuited, past tense. Already gone. Wires crossed— leads jammed in the wrong place, signals crossed.     

She hadn’t wanted to fall apart under his touch so easily, she'd wanted to seem like she wasn’t desperate for him, but his touch was a warm fire on a cold night.    

“Ple—fuck,” Ellie moaned, her words dragged out, long and torturous as she felt his thick fingers slip inside her, slow and deliberate.     

She didn’t even know his real name, wasn’t even sure if she could manage to say it even if she did. He was undoing her carefully, piece by piece, sensation by sensation, she was malleable under his touch.    

“What was that darlin’?”    

Ellie might have been embarrassed at the squelch of her wetness as his fingers stroked in and out, excruciatingly measured, but she couldn't think about anything. Just the way he filled her while still leaving her wanting more, more, more.    

“Please—” her nerves crackled like livewires as she moaned, her hips moving against his fingers with each stroke, her movements almost involuntary, the wild need in her chasing the high, just out of reach.     

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” his voice was husky, lower now. He gripped her hip, holding her, steadying her rhythm before he added another thick finger, three deep in her now, his thumb moving in circles around her swollen clit.    

“Jesus,” he breathed, taking a moment before his mouth dipped to her hot center, alternating between sucking and the slow caressing tip of his tongue, creating just the right amount of excruciatingly perfect sensation, his fingers stroking and curling inside her. “You're so tight, sweetheart. Might not—” 

He might not fit. She finished his words in her mind, a secondary thought, one that made her mad with want. 

She breathed through the sensations, jolted and writhed as his pumping digits searched for the spot that made her see stars. She felt drunk, high, soaring, just on the edge of release, her muscles aching to reach the peak before she tumbled over, completely undone.    

When she finally broke, her back arching off the mattress, her hips grinding harder into his hand, she moaned into her forearm to muffle the sound. 

That air of self–assured cockiness he carried himself with at the bar, the swagger. It was all well–earned, she was coming to realize. Pun intended. 

“You know what they call a pilot with at least five confirmed air-to-air kills?” His voice was low as he drew his fingers from her, slipping his arm behind her still arched back as he leaned over her, his heavy cock pressing up against her throbbing pussy through his boxers, hard, ready.  

She was hyper aware that she still wanted him, inside her, filling her, spreading her to her limit in a unique mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Hmm—Ace?” Ellie’s mind was still hazy, vignetted around the edges as her heart hammered against her ribs. 

It happened in a moment, a quick change of position, as he lifted and turned, positioning himself under her so she straddled him. Smooth and calculated, precise and fast, an expert maneuver.  

Ellie could feel her bare wetness against him, her hands bracing on his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath her touch. In the dim light of the room, she could see the glint of his dog tags hanging off to the side, a small detail of his costume she wished she might have looked at before, in the bar.  

“Ace.” He smirked up at her before he shifted her hips up and he pulled her down over his face. 

Ellie gripped the steering wheel tightly, the worn pleather creaking under her hands as she leaned forward and angled the rearview mirror sharply so she could get a better look.   

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed, her fingers hovering just over the purple mark on her neck, just above her collarbone. How she hadn’t noticed it in the mirror this morning, she wasn’t quite sure.  

“Seriously? A fucking hickey?” She was already digging around in her purse as she huffed, her fingers blindly searching for the concealer she knew wouldn’t be there because she could see it in her mind’s eye, sitting on the edge of the porcelain countertop in her ensuite bathroom. “Are we fourteen?”  

This was definitely topping her list of things she didn’t need her first day on a new job site, especially not Miramar.  

When Ellie had woken up that morning, the sun barely peeking through the half-shut blinds, she wasn’t surprised that she was alone in bed. There was no note, no forgotten sock, no evidence, save for the dull ache between her legs and a tender, purple love bite on the inside of her right thigh as evidence that last night had even happened.  

That was what one-night stands were though, right? One night.  

Even under the hot stream of water from the shower in the ensuite though, Ellie closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift back, only shaking herself from the thought of him when the alarm from her phone buzzed it right off the counter.   

Groaning, Ellie blew out a noisy breath, abandoning the purse search when she found nothing other than a stray mint.  

Guess today was going to be a hair down kind of day.  

It wasn't the look she normally felt comfortable with on military bases with all the formality of rank and protocol, but she was a civilian contractor, it was unlikely anyone would notice. Hair down was better than the talk that might follow her around if anyone saw the mark on her neck.  

Sighing, Ellie pulled the pins out of the bun she’d spent her morning perfecting and allowed her hair, dark, still damp and wavy from the shower, to fall around her shoulders. Carefully, she pulled the tresses forward, over the rouged mark on her skin, peeking just out from under the collar of her white blouse.  

It wasn’t the best, but it would have to do in a pinch. She made a quick mental note to head off base on break to stop at a CVS to grab some concealer before she twisted the rearview mirror back into place.  

Tony Cudmore, the Crew Staffing Supervisor she had been coordinating with solely through email before now, was already waiting for her just outside the gates, his eyes on his wristwatch as Ellie approached. “Rigby, glad to have you on board. Heard we snagged you from your work on base in Turkey.”  

“Yeah, well. When Uncle Sam comes knocking, right?” Ellie snagged a tress of her hair as it lifted from her shoulder in the wind, carefully patting it back into place.  

“Don’t I know it,” Tony chuckled, his white, push broom straight moustache blustering as he waved at the officer stationed in the booth by the gate before he scanned his security pass. “How’s your old man?”  

“Ah, you know the type, Tony.” 

Ellie had perfected the art of sidestepping questions about her dad and Tony didn’t push further, seemingly content with the non-answer. 

As they reached the security clearance office, Tony slid a few documents under the glass and Ellie stepped up in front of a camera, the flash going off quickly before she had a chance to adjust.  

Whoever thought DMV photos were bad had clearly never had their photo taken by a Naval Officer a few months away from retirement.  

“Given name?” The man behind the glass murmured, so low that Ellie had to strain and lean toward the hole at the bottom of the glass to hear him.  

“Eleanor.” 

“We have a lot of work here that could really benefit from your expertise. The boys are flying Super Hornets nowadays, so the tech is good, but the improvements from your research could really give ‛em the edge.” Tony continued at her side, distractedly flipping through emails on his phone as he waited, “Now of course, those Super Hornets are far and away from the Tomcats your dad would have been flying in his heyday here, let me tell you….”  

“Surname?”  

“Neven - but you can just put Rigby.” It was Ellie’s turn to murmur now, edging closer to the slot in the glass, her voice just loud enough to be heard over Tony’s absent chatter behind her.  

The Security Officer paused, fanning out Ellie’s passport and glancing up at her for a moment, eyebrow raised before he punched something into the computer. She offered him a tight smile a beat too late.  

When the man slid her the newly printed security pass, Ellie’s eyes scanned for any sign of the hickey and was thankful that, though her hair looked like a bird's nest and her eyes were half-closed in mid-blink, at least the hickey wasn’t memorialized in her security pass.  

As they stepped out of the security office, Tony untucked a manila folio from under his arm and passed it to Ellie as they walked. “I’ll take you around. Give you your bearings. You’ll be working with the tower crew lots. Some good people up there.”  

They were out of the outbuilding now, Ellie’s heels clicking across the tarmac, past the line of F18s lined up on the hardtop and gleaming in the early morning California sun.  

“The ground crew might ask for some help with the planes, so you’ll be in the hangars. I’ll take you for a quick flyby,” Tony chuckled to himself, pleased with the pun, “we’ll pick up the tour after since the meeting with Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Stark is at 0900 sharp and those suits don’t mess around.”   

Tony’s strides were long, and it took Ellie a moment to jog after him, catching up just in time for him to open the door for her.    

“If you’re not five minutes early—” Ellie started, half playing into the old Navy saying she had grown up hearing as she slipped into the hangar.  

The nostalgic scent of jet fuel and oil hit Ellie hard in the closed space — it didn’t seem to matter how long she did this, how long she worked around planes and crews, in different countries, different airfields, this part never changed. Part of that was comforting in an odd way. It felt like home to her. 

Tony snapped his fingers in response, the sound of agreement. Tony opened his mouth to speak when a loud peel of laughter echoed in the closed space. Tony glanced at his watch, confused for a moment before his face turned toward Ellie, excited. “Oh, well, will you look at that, lucky you, we’ve got some of our Flyboys here. Must have some free time before drills.”    

Ellie followed a few steps behind Tony as he rounded the front of a line of Super Hornets, a spring in his step. As they approached, she took in the group of aviators in their flight suits from a distance, casually talking and laughing — and then her stomach twisted, her gait faltering for a moment. 

There, leaning against one of the jets, was the last person she expected to see again, let alone here: Hangman.

He looked almost exactly as he had last night, though somehow the daylight amplified everything about him— his height, the confident set of his shoulders. He turned, mid-laugh and Ellie watched as his eyes caught on her, like he recognized her for a fraction of a second before the look was gone just as quickly. 

Hangman’s easy smile shifted when he saw her, an eyebrow shooting up, surprise flashing across his face before his expression settled into something like amusement.

The last time she’d seen that look, she’d been over top of him, hovering, before he pulled her down over his mouth greedily, his tongue painting pictures over her most sensitive nerve endings as she moaned. She was pretty sure she’d broken one of her fingernails as she gripped the headboard, biting into her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood, his other hand reaching up to cup her breast roughly.  

Yet here he was now, in the light of day, truly in his element, looking like he belonged here as much as the jets around him. 

Ellie felt her heart kick up a notch, a reaction she’d hoped she’d managed to stow away. She forced herself to play it cool, lifting her chin slightly as they neared the group. She didn’t have a choice – there was no running from this. The consequences of her own actions coming back around to haunt her. 

“Hangman, Payback, Harvard,” Tony greeted, nodding to him and the other pilots. “Good to see you guys. Just giving our new radar tech a tour.” 

Ellie felt her pulse quicken as his gaze slid back to her. He wasn’t going to say anything, right? They were strangers here, well, coworkers now. She wasn’t Amelia Earhart, and he wasn’t the pilot from the party, except, he very clearly was and Ellie had miscalculated, mis-stepped. A TOPGUN pilot no less. 

As she held his gaze, she could see the recognition flickering behind his eyes. He knew exactly who she was, but his mask didn’t slip, not for a second. 

“This is—”  

“Rigby. Eleanor.” Ellie interrupted Tony sharply. The introduction as herself, not as Amelia, would be on her own terms. At least she could control that. Here, at Miramar, she was Eleanor Rigby. 

“Welcome to the team, Rigby,” he said smoothly, holding out a hand as if they hadn’t already met in the most intimate of ways. The way he said her name sounded off, like he was testing it out in the context of their previous… encounter. 

Ellie held her breath, pausing only a moment before she forced herself to shake his hand. “Thanks,” she replied coolly, her voice even, though she was silently praying for the ground to swallow her whole. She refused to let him get the upper hand. Not here, not in front of people she had to work with.  

His grip was firm, his eyes amused. Ellie caught the brief flicker of his gaze to her neck, his eyes resting where Ellie knew she’d tried to hide the hickey, admiring his work, likely.    

Tony chuckled, oblivious to the tension. “Lieutenant Seresin’s one of the best we’ve got. You’ll probably end up working on his bird now and then.”  

Ellie forced a smile, though she could feel the bottom of her stomach drop out and she cleared her throat in an attempt to press down the nervous, incredulous laugh that threatened to escape her. Technically, she’d worked on it last night, right?   

“Looking forward to it,” she said instead, even though the last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near him right now.  

He released her hand, stepping back into the group of pilots. “Catch you around, Rigby” he said casually, before turning back to his crew, who began to stalk off, out of the large open hangar doors, not looking back.  

“Anyway, you’ll be working here between—” Tony continued, oblivious. 

Ellie let out a breath as Tony waved at her to follow him, continuing the tour. She kept her eyes forward, focusing on Tony’s voice, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of Hangman’s eyes on her or the memory of last night still lingering between them. This complicated things. This really complicated things. 

At least he’d set a standard: he didn’t know her and Ellie was only happy to play along with that pretense. She didn’t know him either. At least, that’s the story she was sticking to. 

The fluorescent lights in the conference room felt harsher than usual, and Ellie shifted uncomfortably as Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Ingrid Stark watched her closely, their expressions unreadable.  

Standing before two of the Navy’s highest-ranking officers, Ellie tried to steady her breath, tried to ignore the slow trickle of panic coursing through her. The same panic that churned the small bit of breakfast she’d managed to eat while maneuvering in and out of San Diego traffic all the way to North Island.  

All she had to do was focus, recenter her mind on the presentation. The presentation that culminated the last three years of her career, it was important, she knew – it had been the sole focus of her work in Turkey and yet, here she was, hiding that stupid hickey and thinking about the man who made it. Thinking about how he looked at her in the hangar not but twenty minutes ago, a glance exchanged that held a shared secret between them as he took her hand and treated her like a stranger. Cool, calm, collected, all charm.  

It was the same easy charisma she’d leaned into just last night, at the Halloween party, blissfully unaware of who he really was. Except now she knew he’d been telling the truth the whole damn time and she’d just called his bluff wrong. And now, now with all those thoughts running through her mind at Mach 2, she was standing here, in front of the highest-ranking personnel on base, expected to deliver a groundbreaking presentation on her research, trying to ignore the lingering flush of that unexpected run-in this morning.  

Ellie cleared her throat, tightening her grip on her tablet as she began walking the Admirals through her research. Running through her practiced script, she carefully outlined her new detection algorithm—a project that had garnered their attention in the first place, the same work that had pulled her back here, to Miramar.   

Truthfully, if they’d asked any probing questions, Ellie would have to confess that the technology was in its earliest stages but had the potential to counteract enemy jamming of GPS signals. In theory (because that was the key word theory), the algorithm she’d developed, on paper, had the potential to become an un-jammable navigation system.  

Ellie clicked through to the next slide, “The reason this algorithm has the potential to give our pilots the advantage is because the enemy would have -”  

You have to say please, sweetheart. 

The memory from last night, his words a steady command, sent a pulse through her, from her chest, down into her core, where it settled, hot and pulsing. 

Ellie’s voice caught in her throat, and she coughed, before holding up her index finger and pouring herself a glass of water from the pitcher at the head of the table. Quietly she sipped the water, her eyes landing outside the window at the tarmac as ground crew guided an F18 out of the hangar. She waited for a beat, measuring her sips as she calmed down. 

Get your shit together, Rigby. She coached herself, draining the last of the water as she caught Admiral Simpson checking his watch from the corner of her eye. You are not going to screw this up because you had sex last night.    

Incredible sex.     

The best sex you've had in the last two years... possibly in your entire life.    

Top tier sex... with your new co-worker. Who just so happens to fall into the off-limits category. 

If she could have shaken her head without it seeming strange, she would have, but she suspected she was getting into foot tapping territory. With Admirals, time was money. 

“I’m sorry, as I was saying—” Ellie straightened her blazer, setting the glass down and resuming her presentation, determined.      

When she finished, Admiral Simpson leaned back, giving her a thoughtful once-over as he drummed his fingers on the folder containing her research on the table in front of him. “Well, Ms. Neven,” he said, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The best of the best. That’s what they told me about you. I suppose that must run in the family.”  

The weight of the comment hit her immediately, and her mind reeled again. This time for an entirely different reason. She hadn’t anticipated Rick’s reputation coming up so soon—or at all.  

She managed a quick nod, hoping it looked confident. “Thank you, sir,” she said, barely keeping her voice steady.  

Simpson’s smile deepened. “When we saw you were one of the top minds in the field, it was a no-brainer to bring you in for this project. Your research is intriguing.” His gaze softened slightly, just enough to give her a glimpse of the man behind the rank and she wondered if, for half a second, it had anything to do with the fact that he had a daughter her age. “You’re going to do great things here. Your dad’ll be proud, no doubt.”  

Ellie nodded again, murmuring her thanks, feeling an odd pressure bubbling under the surface. Truthfully, she had expected some bluster about her family, some comments about her father and his Radar Intercept Officer being wingmen for the late Fleet Commander Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. She hadn’t expected it this soon. 

“Admiral Stark and I will take a look over your documentation and see how best to get the testing started. I trust you’ll let us know if you need anything in the meantime?” Admiral Simpson stood then, and an Officer stationed outside the boardroom opened the door from the outside.  

The meeting adjourned, and as everyone began to filter out, Ellie felt herself unraveling by the second, anxiety pushing its way to the forefront. She wanted to scream or laugh, possibly both. Instead, she was rooted in place, unable to decide whether to escape to the nearest empty room or brace herself against the wall and breathe. If she didn’t leave this room for the rest of the day, what were the chances she’d run into him again? Probably slim. 

This was her first day here. The first day and she was thinking about how she’d been laid bare and fucked out of her mind by a man she’d never thought she’d see again, much less work with. All in the middle of one of the most important presentations of her entire life, in front of the people who could make that research into something tangible, a finished product, a cornerstone of new technology in aviation, a reality.   

The lights in the boardroom automatically flicked off and Ellie sighed, gathering up the last of her things before exiting the room. She could hide in the women’s bathroom, right? 

“Ms. Neven.” RADM Stark’s voice approaching from the hallway behind her startled Ellie. As she turned, Ellie watched as Stark appraised her with a mix of curiosity and approval. “Impressive work. It’s good to have some estrogen in the room for once.” Her lips curled into a slight smirk, and Ellie let out the measured breath she’d been holding.  

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m—excited to work here,” Ellie's voice was a little steadier now, a bit of genuine enthusiasm breaking through her nerves as she reminded herself why she was here in the first place. Her work. Her career. Her tech.  

Stark raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Don’t get too excited,” she said, producing a small stick of concealer from a crisp tan pant pocket. She held Ellie’s gaze, a message or a warning behind her cool eyes, Ellie couldn’t be sure, as the ranked Officer handed the makeup to Ellie. “I think we might be the same shade.”   

Ellie’s heart stuttered as the realization hit her, broad-sided. Her hand shot to her neck before she could think, the heat in her cheeks flaring brighter than before as she accepted the concealer, mumbling a mortified thank-you.  

Stark gave her a knowing smile, a curt little nod as she tapped the side of her nose, before walking away, her stride as calm and confident as when she’d approached.    

Ellie waited until the RADM was clear from sight before making a beeline for the bathroom, practically stumbling into the mirror over the sink. She tilted her head to confirm what she already knew was there: a very visible, very damning mark on her neck. The scarlet letter.   

Great.    

She didn’t waste a second applying RADM Stark’s concealer, muttering under her breath as she blended it carefully with the tips of her fingers, dabbing. “One day at Miramar, Ellie. One day.”    

As she swiped on the secondary layer of concealer for good measure, she felt the rush of everything hit her again. The tension of the presentation, the equal parts pride and pressure from the Admiral’s praise, and him—Lieutenant Seresin, Hangman, with his easy, cocky grin and the piercing eyes that, despite everything, she could still feel on her.  

tags: @mrsevans90 , @avengersfan25 , @hookslove1592

taglist if you want to be added/removed!

[stewpidcheescatarinabluu]

In the Midst of the Crowds

Famous Idol Karina as your girlfriend?!

words: 900+

The sun hung high, burning gold into the sky. Stalls lined the streets like a scene unfolding, fans poised and humming— Karina’s Concert start at 7PM but fans are at the venue 7 hours too early, excited for the upcoming Solo Concert.

“Girl! are you ready for the concert? I can’t wait to see Karina!” some group of fangirls shouted.

“Dude I spent my life savings for this, I can’t wait!” two boys told each other, wearing the latest Karina merch.

“Buzz Buzz” you woke up from the repetitive sound of your buzzing phone grabbing it and seeing “Karina” “Hey love, what’s up.” “Hey! Y/N! baby, are you coming to my concert today? its in our hometown after all” she said enthusiastically. “I couldn’t secure a ticket baby” groans as you rubbed your eye. “aww come on!, of course I’ll provide you a ticket, sound check with VIP or just VIP baby?” she said in a bubbly tone. “VIP sounds good baby.” you replied. “Alright baby, I’ll give you a good seat!”

You got out of bed, showered and picked some usual everyday clothes, for them its a highlight of their life, seeing their idol perform for the first time before their very eyes, But for you its just you girlfriend Karina who happens to be an Idol. You messaged her. “Hey Baby I’m on the way.” she replied 7 minutes later. “I'm getting my make up done right now love!’ while sending a picture.

“you look lovely, Goodluck for your soundcheck baby.”

you got to your car, and drove your way to the stadium, seeing the people lined up this early for the concert that starts at 7PM, it made you realize how lucky you are. you entered the secluded parking area for the VIP’s, “Hey love I'm at the parking lot.” she didn’t reply for hours, you noticed that she’s doing her soundcheck since you can hear her voice surrounding the stadium.

While waiting for the time to tick at 7PM, you walked around the area all you can hear are people murmuring on how ready they are seeing Karina, it felt surreal, hearing compliments about your girlfriend all around HER concert, you went to a stall selling Karina’s merch “uhm how much for one of these?” you pointed at a shirt with her face printed on it. “Ah that! I’ll give it for 45 dollars.” you were shocked on how expensive it was, “45? really? no thanks...” you figured you can always see her, why bother spending 45 dollars on a shirt...You bought it. “well shit, so much for that.” while looking at your wallet, you only have enough for a single meal. While wearing a shirt that said “I love Karina” as time passes the venue gets crowded, every time you turn your head a handful of crowd appears, carrying light sticks, portable fan, signs and other stuff. Its serious for them.

The time finally set at 7PM, the entry gate finally opened, the once empty stadium slowly fills up with fans. you were instructed to go to the other entrance of the stadium, in which you did, you tried to enter but the security team stopped you. “Hey sir, forbidden area no outsiders allowed” one of the big guy said. “Uh I was instructed to enter here...” you rebutted “By who?” one answered clearly annoyed, they think your pulling one of those pranks. “Uhm by Karina?” “Bullshit! we don’t have time for you jokes sir.” you shoved your phone with Karina’s messages to their faces, they were speechless but let you in as a sign of defeat. “what a brat!” one guard murmured as you made your way to the VIP section,. The Stage was huge, all covered in LED lights, loud and huge speakers surround the stadium. You were lead by one of the staff to a seat near the stage. “lucky one eh?” she said before leaving.

The Concert goes well as it always does, Karina caught some glimpses of you as she performs her albums. everyone was happy seeing her on stage and performing, its a dream come true for some and a sight to remember for many. as the concert nears its end, its time for the encore performance. where in every country or city Karina picks a different song. Today’s Encore is.....Double Take by Dhruv.

As she performed the song she can’t help but only look at you, hitting every note the song grew louder but for you only her voice was piercing through your ears, you can’t move your eyes, your mind only focuses on her like having tunnel vision. “In the Midst of the Crowds , In the shapes of the crowds, I don’t see nobody but you.” those lyrics hit you like a fucking truck, heating up your whole body and making you a blushing mess, but you can’t help but smile at her with your over expensive shirt and a light stick you borrowed from the back stage.

The moment felt surreal but it gave you the reassurance for the questions you long away burrowed deep down your heart.

[belit0]

What kind of perverts would each of the Uchihas be? (Closet pervert, Open pervert, etc etc..)

ajsdhjaslhdsadhlk

Indra – the dom king who doesn’t know he’s a pervert (but is)

Perv Level: reluctant god-tier pervert

Style: stoic sadist, animalistic, raw

He swears he’s above “those kinds of thoughts”… right before he has (Y/N) pinned, begging, wrecked, wounded and filled to the brim. He intellectualizes everything—even his desire to keep her stuffed full of his cum because “it asserts dominance, not pleasure”—sure, Indra. Sure.

He doesn't flirt, he commands. Keeps it all under heavy, heavy control until the moment something snaps—then he's feral. He becomes the Alpha he is, unabashed and undisguised, biting, marking, claiming, growling, savage, with no care for who is under him.

Madara – open but refined pervert

Perv Level: elegant filth, lots of cum

Style: power-hungry primal

Madara doesn't hide it. He’s proud of it. He will whisper filthy promises in (Y/N)’s ear in public but in such a low, cultured tone that nobody else hears a word. Gets off on teasing. On control. On bending her over polished wood desks and making her say please with perfect enunciation.

He’s all about intensity—eye contact, sweat, and overwhelming, body-trembling submission. Will 100% spank her and tell her it’s because she “embarrassed him in the council” when in reality, he just wants an excuse to hear her beg and fill her up.

Izuna – playful open pervert

Perv Level: open shameless disaster

Style: chaotic tease and lots of dirty talk

Izuna knows what he is, and he loves it. Will whisper something nasty in (Y/N)’s ear mid-meeting and then sit back and grin while she squirms. Has definitely groped her under the table, used a mirror just to watch her reactions, and loved getting caught.

Breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink—just call him the Buffet of Sin. And he’s vocal. Moans, groans, filth spilling from his mouth like he was born to corrupt.

Obito – closet pervert with a very dark edge

Perv Level: silent but absolutely deranged

Style: obsessive possessive

Dark Obito doesn’t talk much. Doesn’t share. But the thoughts? Rotten. He wants to keep (Y/N) hidden from the world, filled and trembling, marked by him in every way. Quiet but brutal in bed—hands on throat, breath stolen, all-consuming.

Pretends he’s indifferent, but has likely memorized every sound she makes when she cums and plays them in his head when he's alone. Will edge her for hours just to hear the way she breaks when he finally lets her cum on his cock.

Shisui – open experimental enthusiast

Perv Level: “wanna try this?” pervert

Style: sweet talker with a stash

Shisui is the one who owns all the toys. Vibrators, cuffs, ropes, remote-controlled plugs for when they go on dinner dates. He’s a curious perv—the kind that wants to know what makes her scream and sob in the best ways and will absolutely test every method to find out.

Will say something like, –You’re doing so good for me, baby. Want to try being blindfolded next?– with the most wholesome grin while fingering her into delirium. Gets off on how much she loves what he does to her. Praise kink? Off the charts. Filthy vocabulary? Hidden under the sweetest smile. Heavy breeder.

Itachi – closet pervert who’s way worse than you think

Perv Level: still waters run very, very deep

Style: cerebral control freak, heavy praiser.

He hides it so well. Too well. But that mind? Utterly filthy. He’s the type to whisper barely audible commands in public while never breaking eye contact. He’ll ruin (Y/N) with just fingers, just words, just a look.

Has probably created elaborate mental scenarios he plays in loops before bed. Gets addicted to her reactions, to how undone she gets when he finally lets go of the leash he keeps so tight. Loves watching her fall apart beneath him—quiet, controlled, cold-blooded…and absolutely obsessed.