#even though i knew it would be better for the rep

[no-144444]

trades and tension- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve more to come...

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Oscar was weirdly wired during the entire Christmas break. You assumed it had something to do with the fact he was constantly around his family, therefore he had no other choice other than being on the defensive all the time. After a few weeks going around Australia with him and his family (the girls trip in Sydney was especially fun), you were back to the UK for training. So, he mellowed out quickly and became the relaxed Oscar you knew better, rather than the Oscar that shouted at his little sisters over a JustDance Game he was definitely not going to win, as they laughed at him.

More specifically, you were off to Wales. Swansea. The University of Swansea. Aka, preparation day. The day you dreaded most. 

Maisie was very kind about everything though, she kept telling you that you could do it all, that you could push yourself farther, that you could do more. 

Oscar, on the other hand (you’d brought him because he begged), was horrified at the gruesome tests you were undertaking. He watched on in terror as you ran flat out for 3 minutes straight. He could barely watch as you did your neck exercises. 

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“You alright?” he questioned, rubbing your back as the McLaren social media rep shoved a camera in your face. They wanted you to do your version of Landologs, trying to gain you more popularity (not that you needed it). You nodded your head, but the urge to either scream, vomit, run away, or cry was slightly overwhelming. 

“I’m alright,” you gritted out, continuing your cycling, sweat dripping off your skin. “Feel a bit sick.” 

Maisie’s demeanor changed. “We can pull the plug right now,” she offered. 

You shook your head. “I’m fine,” you assured her, then turned to Oscar. “You don’t have to be in here, y’know? It’s pretty hot.” 

“Doesn’t bother me,” he shrugged, though you could see the sweat stains on his pits. You rolled your eyes. 

“You’re a moron,” you chuckled. “Just take the out.” 

“What if I don’t want out?” he teased. 

“Then you’re crazy.” 

“Crazy about you,” Maisie said under her breath, but you both heard it. 

If you thought Oscar’s cheek couldn’t go any redder, you were proven wrong, and he did in fact, step out. You just chuckled.

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At the end of the day, you ran into the showers and finally let your exhausted body untense. This season would be hard. It would be hard on you mentally and physically. You were still with McLaren. You were still fighting with everything you had. 

Just now, there were even more expectations. Great.

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Oscar held out an arm to hug you as he held the rest of your things, waiting in the lobby for you to come out. “Y’alright?” he asked, squeezing you against him. You nodded and took your (his) hoodie out of his hands and pulled it over your head. 

“Tired,” you shrugged. “Ready to go to bed.”

“Can't believe you have to do that every year,” he shook his head. “That’s insane.” 

You shrugged again, taking your bag from his arm. “Is what it is.” 

He shook his head, smiling, as he took your hand. “Alright, home?” 

“Home,” you nodded. 

‘Home’ was in fact your hotel, but neither of you cared about the semantics of anything at that point. You had one focus, bed. Oscar had one focus, getting you to bed. 

He drove as you stared at the passing fields and houses out the window. He wouldn’t let go of your hand even if he had to. When he had you to himself, he stuck like glue. You didn’t seem to mind much. At every red light, you felt his eyes on you. At every stop sign, he squeezed your hand. You could feel the cold metal of the bracelet you gave him, the walkie talkie charm hanging off it. He wore it, proudly. Everyday.  Still, a question plagued your mind. Why would he purposefully make himself uncomfortable just to be in the same room as you?

“What?” you questioned. 

He shrugged. “What?” 

“Why did you stay in there with me today?” you questioned. “It was roasting.” 

He shrugged, his eyes on the road. “I just wanted to.”

“But why?” you pushed for an answer. 

“Didn’t want you to be alone, I guess,” he pressed a kiss to your hand. “I don’t like you being in your own head.”

“Why not?”

“You’re not very nice to yourself,” he answered tentatively. You swallowed, fixing your posture. “And I think you’re happier when you aren’t thinking awful things about yourself.”

You stopped for a moment, emotion and understanding building behind your eyes. You nodded and let out a small “Ok,” and he squeezed your hand. Never was he ever blaming you. Never was he ever making fun of you, or being mean. He cared. That's all. He just cared for you.

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The hotel lobby was dimly lit and the only soul around was the receptionist, who was too busy doing some admin stuff to even notice you and Oscar. You didn’t mind, you liked being invisible. Oscar was taking a call outside while you grabbed drinks from the vending machine. Sprite for him, water for you. When did you learn that was his favourite drink? You couldn’t remember. Maybe it was something he’d said in passing, or maybe you’d asked him. You couldn’t remember.

“That’s fucking bullshit,” his voice travelled inside, and you felt that sense of dread that had been slowly decreasing overt the break, come back tenfold. “You can’t just trade me!”

Trade. Oscar. 

Oscar. Trade. 

Fuck no. 

You turned the corner outside to see him pacing the street, his head in his hand as he listened to the other end of the phone call. You had a feeling you knew who was on the other side. Fucking Andrea and Zak meddling in your life. He shook his head. “What does that even mean? ‘I’m distracting her’? I’m making her take care of herself! For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even care about her a year ago! You only hired her in the first place to get the fucking medal for being the only team in modern F1 to have a female driver!” he argued, his hands moving wildly. “Yeah, your decisions are final. Good for you. Fuck off.”

And he hung up. 

“Don’t tell me-”

“You’re getting a new race engineer,” he scoffed. “I’m going to Aston Martin.” 

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[chosove]

*tw!!! daddy kink!!! + a lotttt of size kink stuff!!! fem bodied reader*

I know he gets such a like…almost ‘selfish lover’ rep but in my humble daddy issue biased opinion, toji would 100% talk you through it like…

Everyone already finds him so intimidating, if not from his stature and general appearance, its his gruff voice and combative personality. He doesnt even mean to do it, he just always has that trademark scowl on his face that makes people afraid to say excuse me in grocery stores :(

Not you though, you still served him with your bright smile as he checked out of the store. You asked how he was and giggled at his flirty response of ‘why, ya wanna make my day better?’. I mean…other than his kids he never had people willingly make small talk with him, let alone laugh at his old man jokes.

Godddd he just gets so flustered when you look at him with your big doe eyes and say have a fantastic day :(

Thats why when he sees you on the dating app megumi downloaded for him (against his will), he feels his heart skip a beat. I just know he’s all nervous, thinking how dirty he is as a self proclaimed ‘old man’ finding such a pretty young thing attractive- i mean you could literally be his daughter. All these worried thoughts flitted through his head while he tried to decide, not realizing his thumb was just a littttttlllleeeee too close to the screen as he accidentally matched with you.

Oh.

Oh.

I mean it was an accident for him, but was it an accident for you? It couldnt be if you were texting him already, a message reading “hey there stranger :)” popping up on his phone.

And when you liked his simple response of “Hello.”, responding with “anything i can do to make your night better, toji?”, that couldnt just be a typo or misclick, right?

You made him feel like a teenager again, the butterflies he felt only becoming more intense when you asked him to come over n’ tell you in person :( he nearly jumped out of his skin trying to get ready, hands fumbling with that pinstripe button-up he’d been saving for something special (gumi’s grad or….i guess his first date in forever). It was only at times like this he wished he had someone to call to help him chill out.

Maybe after tonight that’d be you though? He hoped so at least, and even when you pulled him into your apartment, pushing him on the couch while he stuttered about getting to know each other first, he knew you were the girl for him.

It did take a while for him to actually get up to your speed- he didnt wanna break you or anything. You were just so, so desperate for him, tugging at his shirt while you grinded your clothed cunt against his beefy thighs, filthy words coming out of your mouth only making it harder for toji to take it slow with you.

“God you’re so big toji, feel like even jus’ your fingers can split me in half.”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you, knew you’d treat me better than all the guys my age. Ya gonna fuck me right toji? Please?”

“C’mon toji…know you wanna breed me, bet it’ll only take one time for me to give you a baby. D’you want that daddy?”

It was no later you said that word that he was picking you up, throwing you onto the tiny mattress your studio apartment held. Yeah, he definitely wasnt getting out of this alive- but neither were you judging by the way his big hands began to unbuckle his belt, unzipping the pants you so graciously left a giant wet stain on, the outline of his cock in his boxers making your mouth water.

“See what ya do to me, pretty?” His deep voice spoke, one hand giving his throbbing dick a few much-needed strokes while he stared down at you like a wolf. “Nothin’ to say anymore, hm? C’mon, i liked hearing it all.”

He hadnt even pressed himself against you before you let out a whine, his hands resting themselves on your sides already being enough to make your hips jump. If it weren’t for the fact he was now intent on hearing more of those pretty sounds from you, he’d have let out a whine himself from how soft your skin felt against his worked hands. And when he slowly pulled your panties down your thighs, clenching his jaw at the sight of strands of wetness sticking to your pussy, he nearly came in his pants.

“Poor girl, bet this sweet pussy hasnt been treated right in forever hm?” The question nearly brought tears to your eyes, both from the truth of it and from the fact he began to thumb at your glistening cunt, the rough pad of his finger being the exact pressure you needed on your pulsing bundle of nerves. “T-toji i might cum alr-”you began, but you werent able to get your sentence out before his hand came down to slap against your cunt.

“What happened to my good girl from earlier? Y’know not to call me toji, little bird. Whats my name?” He whispered against the shell of your ear, fingers covered in your wetness now coming to play with your hard nipples.

Clinging to his shaggy hair like it was your lifeline, you nearly cried out as you came undone for him, the desperate moan of ‘thank you daddy’ falling from your lips. He smiled as you writhed below him, your body convulsing while he let you ride what would be the first of many orgasms that night.

[mymindisneverhere]

warnings: 18+, SMUT, dirty talk, unprotected sex, & more but don’t say I ain’t warn you.

Masterlist

Summary: Aaron is head of an architect firm who just hired a new assistant who is very nervous yet severely attracted to him.

(this is my first time writing one of these but I had to cause this man got me in a chokehold. enjoy!) 🩵

Assistance

She watched as his back muscles flexed with every rep. He had been exercising for the past 30 minutes and she didn’t want to interrupt but this was an emergency. Meagan had been Mr. Pierre’s assistant for 3 months now and she was enjoying her time with him. He was a kind yet stern gentleman who took his business endeavors very seriously. He needed her to send the final blueprints of a new building his architect firm would be preparing to build this coming fall. The deadline was in an hour and there were still bits and pieces of information missing. She knew how much this meant to her boss but she also knew how much his private workout routines meant to him as well.

She didn't mean to stare but she couldn’t tear her gaze from his glistening body. This man was sculpted by the creator themselves. Every muscle flexed perfectly and the veins in his arms went well with his masculine physique. She studied his movements as he brought both of his arms up and down above his head, doing what they called “Shoulder Press”. After a few more reps he slammed the dumbbells down and leaned forward to catch his breath. She had been in such a trance that she didn’t notice him looking up to see her staring in the mirror.

“Do you like your job?” He asked in a stern tone.

”Uh y-yes.” She stammered, shaking her head to bring herself back into the present moment, pushing her curly hair behind her ears.

”Then I suggest you get back to it then.” He stated, reaching for a towel and throwing it over his shoulder.

“Um, Mr. Pierre sir, th-there are a few details missing from the blueprints. We h-have an hour and uh, I-I didn’t want to send them t-to the contractors until-“ She stuttered. She hated when this happened. She’d get so nervous that her words would struggle to leave her mouth. She always struggled with her speech impediment since a child but it had gotten better over the years, that is until she met Mr. Pierre.

He walked over to her grabbing the papers from her hand reviewing the layouts of the new fine arts museum that would be built right in the center of downtown. As he looked over the paperwork the two sat in silence. Well he was silent but he could hear her struggling to breathe as he stood a few inches away from her. He made her nervous and he liked it. It wasn’t anything new to him though.

Being the man that he was with a million dollar business caused women to gawk at the sight of him. What he didn’t enjoy about these women were the ones who were obviously bothered by his presence but chose to put on a front. He knew that he could be intimidating and he hadn’t done it on purpose. But the women who tried so hard to match his aura always failed tremendously. The over talking, over sexualizing themselves, practically throwing themselves at him when they weren’t even prepared for the type of man he was, irritated him.

But his assistant, Meagan, was a different story. She’d get nervous from time to time when speaking with him but she’d never force herself to hide it. He’d notice that she’d take a few deep breaths, take a sip of water and then get right back to it like she never missed a beat. He liked that. He had to admit watching her struggle around him fed his ego a bit.

He looked to her and handed her the papers, giving her the corrections to make before sending it off to be finalized.

“Is that all?” He asked, staring down at her with a stern expression.

“Yes sir, thank you.” She grabbed the papers with a steady hand, slowly to be sure she didn’t drop them or make it obvious that he had her shook. She placed the folder with the paperwork under her arm and turned to leave his in-home gym.

He stood watching her walk away, admiring her natural body from her defined hips that slightly dipped into deep dimples to her voluptuous ass. No matter how many pairs of tights she’d wear, they would never stop the natural jiggle that happened when she’d walk. He felt his dick jump in his workout tights and he knew he had to have her. He immediately grabbed his phone and made his way to his bedroom to shower.

Meagan sat at the kitchen island, her fingers going a mile a minute as she sent email after email. They had done it, they had just secured the lot for the new Museum of Fine Arts and this meant Mr. Pierre would have a large check coming to him very soon. This was her first big win as his assistant and she couldn’t decide how she would celebrate. Although she couldn’t focus on celebrating because every time she did, images of him flashed in her mind. Images of him in the gym, images of him staring down at his sketches for the new buildings, images of him fucking her-

“Did you get it to them on time?” He asked, interrupting her thoughts. She silently thanked him before responding.

“Uh yes sir.” She replied. She turned the laptop toward him so he could see for himself. “Everything is confirmed, the deal is done!” She said looking up at him. Her eyes were so soft and pleading, almost childlike. It’s like she wanted to impress him badly. She wanted to finally get the approval she had been working for these past 3 months.

“Good job.” He said dryly.

She frowned a bit, somewhat in confusion and frustration. What was with this guy? She had just helped him secure one of the biggest deals for his firm and all he could say was “Good job”. She turned the laptop back toward her and went back to doing her daily emailing.

As she confirmed meetings and lunches for him she tried to sneak a peek at him but he was already staring at her. She didn’t know what this meant but she was afraid she’d be in the unemployment line real soon. He didn’t say anything, he just stared at her. When the silence went on for longer than she expected her mind went into overdrive. She couldn’t be getting fired, they had just closed a 7 figure deal, but she did overstep a boundary by going into his gym without his permission. But it was an emergency, hell it was for his business. He couldn’t have been that much of an asshole.

”Look Mr. Pierre, I-I’m sorry about coming into the g-gym without your permission. I just d-didnt want to mess up y-your b-big-“ She struggled to get out before he interrupted her.

”Breathe.” He suggested.

She stared down at her hands as she took a few deep breaths before mustering up the courage to meet his stern gaze again.

“You’re not in trouble.” He said, calming her mind first and her body second. He studied her as he watched her chest rise up and down slowly. Her jaw became unclenched and her shoulders more relaxed.

He looked down at his watch to see the time was nearly 11p.m., it was too late to send her on her way. He had enough bedrooms in this house, she could just pick one to rest for the night and be on her way in the morning.

“I don’t want you driving back home so late tonight.” He spoke.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. It’s no prob-“

”That’s an order.” He interrupted. “I wouldn’t be a man if I let you leave so late, I know you have a far drive to make.”

She nodded, refusing to look him in the eye.

“You know your way around the house, you can stay in a guest suite tonight.” He said before leaving the kitchen. “Great job by the way.”

She looked up at him in surprise.

“You’ll be around for a while so get comfortable.” He finished, leaving her in the kitchen alone.

Once she heard his footsteps become silent, indicating that he was no longer within ears reach, she jumped up in celebration. That is exactly what she wanted to hear.

”Yes!” She yelled, covering her mouth. She giggled to herself as she grabbed her laptop off of the island and made her way up to one of the guest suites.

After placing her things in the chair that sat near the window, she unbuttoned her dress shirt and kicked off her heels. She chose to stay in the guest suite on the far west wing of the house, it was in the opposite wing from his bedroom. She walked into the large bathroom that was attached to the suite and turned on the lights. She looked over to see a walk in shower and a large garden tub. She had chosen to take a shower instead, she was already a guest in his house, the last thing she needed to do was spend hours in his bathtub.

She turned on the faucet, pulling it all the way left to get the water as hot as possible. That was the only way she’d take showers. Closing the shower door, she walked over to the mirror to continue removing her clothes while the water warmed to her liking. She got down to her bra and panties, a matching set, as she admired her reflection. When she unbuttoned her bra, causing her natural 34 C’s to drop a bit, the images began to flash in her mind. Only this time she had imagined Mr. Pierre in the bathroom with her, staring at her with those icy blue eyes that sent chills down her spine.

This made her pussy tingle. The thought of her tall, broad shouldered, smooth skin, no nonsense boss staring at her with pure hunger and desire. Him touching all over her body, feeling her breasts in his big hands, feeling his soft lips on her neck. Her fantasies were making her wet but it was fine because she would hop right in the shower to wash her lustful thoughts away.

She stepped out of her panties and into the shower, letting the hot water run down her body. Her hands ran up and down her figure as she tried hard to stop the fantasies of her boss joining her in the shower. She had pictured what he’d look like naked a few times, she had already gotten half of the picture today when she saw him shirtless. His toned arms, each one covered in a single tattoo, his chiseled chest, his brown nipples, his defined abs and that V cut that she had stared down at while he reviewed the blueprints. She knew that V cut led to a heavy dick, carved with thick veins and a head that would feel soft against her lips.

She was so deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that her hands had been playing in her pussy. Her middle finger and ring finger toyed with her clit as her hands began to wrinkle from the wetness her boss had brought her and he didn’t even know. As she played with her pussy she imagined his tongue there.

“Fuck.” She had let out a moan, sure that she wouldn’t be heard. She was positive that the water would drown out her cries.

“You feel so good in my pussy Mr. Pierre.” She said aloud, not worried about being heard by him or the house keepers. “Eat this pussy Daddy.”

She moaned and groaned, begging and pleading for her boss to make her cum until she came all over his face in her mind, her fingers in reality. After a few breaths she opened her eyes to realize where she was and that she needed to get clean so she could get some sleep.

A few minutes passed and the water was turned off. She stepped out of the shower, one foot at a time before realizing she had no towel to dry off with. She searched through the drawers in the sink vanity and found nothing but toothbrushes and toothpaste. Not a towel in sight.

“Shit.” She said to herself. She needed to dry off but stepping outside of this bathroom uncovered was too much of a risk for her. She didn’t even want to think of being caught by the house keepers let alone her boss. She sat thinking for a few minutes, contemplating on whether or not she should just air dry and slip on the pajama sets he had stored in the nightstand next to the bed. She hated air drying in the bathroom though, it was so wet and humid, she needed to get out of there.

Once she remembered his beautiful mansion came with intercoms in each room she figured she'd just politely ask for some towels to be left outside of the door. Finally satisfied with her plan, she headed for the bathroom door. When she swung the door open her heart sank as she met his blue eyes first. Her boss, Mr. Pierre stood on the other side of the door staring down at her.

Panic was written all over her face as she remembered she had just orgasmed to the thought of him eating her. She had called out his name and many other things, confident that she wouldn’t be heard. But by the look on his face, she knew he had heard everything.

“I remembered the housekeepers didn’t stock this bathroom with towels, so I thought I’d bring you some.” He started, still staring down at her with those beautiful eyes, that seem to change to a light hazel color now. He walked into the bathroom causing her to step back until her back hit the wall near the shower.

“Did you need me for something?” He smirked, towering over her. Her 5’4 frame didn’t stand a chance under his 6’3 build.

She stood there speechless, she didn’t know what to say. She was too embarrassed to speak. No matter how hard he stared at her, she refused to meet his eyes. So she stood staring at his chest, his muscular and defined chest.

“I- um, I- was j-“ She struggled, this time understandably.

He bent down, burying his face into her neck, sucking on her vanilla scented skin. She was still so caught off guard, not coming to terms with the fact that her fantasies were coming true in real time. He dropped the towels and reached down to grab her legs, wrapping them around his waist. He sucked and licked on her neck, planting kisses all over her.

“Sir, I-I didn’t m-mean to-“ She stuttered, struggling to breathe correctly or at all.

“Don’t be nervous now.” He mumbled, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. “This what you wanted right?” He pulled her off of the wall and sat her on the bathroom sink.

“Um…” She managed.

“Right?” He asked, looking into her eyes, demanding a response.

She looked up at him before taking a deep breath and responding “Yes.”

“Yes what?” He asked, still staring intensely at her.

“Yes sir.” She breathed.

He smirked. He enjoyed having women at his mercy but this woman was different. He didn’t expect her to be pleasuring herself to the thought of him. She appeared innocent and sweet but that was clearly a front. She craved him just as much as he craved her.

He looked down at her freshly waxed pussy still glistening as a result of her own pleasures. He licked his lips as he admired the sight of her body in front of him. He didn’t know where to start, he just knew he didn’t want to go wrong with this masterpiece that sat waiting to be devoured by him.

She looked down at his sweatpants and saw his print. She wanted so badly to find out what he felt like, what he tasted like, how his dick would feel hitting the back of her throat. Without hesitation she stood from the sink and dropped to her knees. She ran her fingers around his waist before pulling his pants down, coming face to face with his dick. It was exactly how she imagined, thick, brown and beautiful. She grabbed his length with her hand, noticing the precum that sat right at the head.

She licked the sweet cum off of him, locking eyes with her boss as she did so. He was taken aback at the sight of his once nervous and jittery assistant who was now bold and fearless. He was used to being the dominant in the situation, he would have his women responding to his touch and the feeling of his tongue in their pussy. But this night was a total 180, he found himself being the subject of a woman who had dreamed of devouring him months ago.

She licked the entirety of his dick before taking him into her mouth, wrapping her lips around his hardness. She jerked her neck back and forth, her tongue rubbing against the bottom of his dick so that he could feel only the wetness and warmth of her mouth. She sucked and slurped, moaning out of pure satisfaction and enjoyment. She watched as his face frowned in pure bliss. He had placed his hands on her head to help guide her but she didn’t need any guidance. She could tell by the look on his face he wanted something more, but he was in too much ecstasy to bring himself to say it.

“Fuck my face.” She said, rubbing the head of his penis against her full lips that were covered in spit. She liked the fact that she was watching her super tough super masculine boss fold at her touch, it was all because of her.

He tightened the grip on her head and forced himself into her mouth touching the back of her throat. She relaxed the muscles in her neck so that he could get better access, all the access he hoped for. He fucked her face, pumping in and out of her mouth pausing when he got all of himself into her. This caused her to gag slightly, building more saliva in her mouth which would make for an even better experience. He thrusted his hips back and forth, pausing between strokes to trigger her gag reflex. He loved the sound of her struggling to take all of him in. The more she gagged, the more tears built in her eyes. Before she knew it, the tears had fallen and the spit that built in her throat and ran down her neck onto her breasts.

This sight caused him to clench his jaw reluctantly. His assistant who he perceived as innocent had turned into a slut all because of him. The way she moaned as if she was the one being pleasured, the way her eyes would roll into her head and then focused back into his, hedidn’t want to cum just yet but the way she locked eyes with while he fucked her pretty face sent him over the edge. How she sat and took in every inch of him without tapping out made him let out a loud groan before sending his nut down her throat.

”Fuuuuuck!” He groaned, holding her head in place as he rode out his orgasm. She sat still as he struggled to catch his breath, her eyes still locked onto his. He pulled out of her and took a few breaths, still coming down from his climax. She swallowed every single drop of him.

“Stand up.” He demanded, his voice deep and impatient.

She stood with a slight smirk on her face, proud of her performance. In a swift motion she spun around facing the mirror as he kicked her legs open and slightly bent her over the sink. His hand was still wrapped tightly around her curls so this sudden change in position was all his doing. He pressed himself into her ass while he eyed her through the mirror. He could see that this had caught her off guard, the ball was now back in his court. He stared down at her ass, biting his lip in anticipation.

“Don't get nervous now.” She said, eyeing him through the mirror, a small smirk on her face again.

Without warning he pushed himself into her slowly until all of him was inside of her, every single inch. She let out a small wince from pain from the size of his dick. It had been a while since she’d had any, let alone one this size. With a hand full of curls in his left hand, he pulled her head back wrapping the other around her throat as he began to fuck her from behind. The sound of her ass slapping against him and the wetness from her pussy sent her into another realm. It was so good, better than she’d imagined.

He stroked her pussy, barely tightening the grip he had on her lower jaw. He pulled in and out of her, slamming himself into her with a quick thrust and then returning back to his steady pace. As he began to roll his hips into her, he saw her face twist in complete pleasure.

”Is this how you wanted it?” He said into her ear.

“Mhmm.” She replied, still so caught up in the pleasure she was getting from him.

“Use your words.” He said, tightening the hold he had on her hair.

“Yes sir.” She quickly responded.

“Good girl.” He spoke into her ear.

She felt him moving in and out of her, his dick hitting every spot with every stroke. She could feel the head of his dick rub against her spot over and over again. It was only a matter of time before she would cum all over him like she had imagined for months. The more he spoke into her ear, the crazier he was driving her. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it. His deep and calm tone right in her ear sent sensations to her clit, it was so swollen that it damn near stung from pleasure.

“You gone cum on this dick for me?” He asked, tightened the grip he had around her neck.

“Yes!” That was all she could manage at the moment.

“Cum on this dick baby.” He said into her ear, still hitting that spot that made her eyebrows wrinkle in pleasure.

She could feel her stomach tightening and pussy began to contract around him, she was cumming.

“Yes daddy, I’m cummin’” She yelled out in pleasure. He continued stroking her, feeling her creamy goodness run down his dick and onto his balls. He wanted all of her, he wouldn’t leave her until she was completely undone. He slowed his pace giving her time to come down from her orgasm before he made her cum again.

After a few long and slow strokes, he gradually picked up his pace aiming for another climax from her.

“Oh fuck yes!” She cried out. She had never cum multiple times in one day. For her orgasms to be back to back like this, there was no way she would ever meet anyone else who would top him.

”Give me that shit.” He spat, his lips brushing her earlobe. He needed his demands to send blood rushing right to her pussy.

”Yes!” She screamed, cumming all over him once again. Her clit jumped as her pussy throbbed naturally after her second orgasm. Even after that powerful flood that ran down her legs, he still hadn’t stopped stroking.

“I can’t.” She said, pleading for him to let her come down.

“Yes you can.” He said, now picking up the pace. His strokes became harder and faster, this time it was his turn to become undone and he wasn’t stopping until he did so. He fucked her like he was running a marathon and he could see the finish line a few feet away.

“Please.” She begged. Her hearing was starting to fade and breathing was becoming harder and harder by the second. On one hand she wanted a break, she needed a break from all of this back to back pleasure. But for some reason she didn’t want him to stop, she could feel his dick throb in her pussy. She knew he was about to cum and she wanted to have the last laugh.

“I’m almost there baby.” He said, his eyes closed as he felt the nut build in his lower abdomen. She watched in amazement as his face turned in pleasure. She took this opportunity to watch him fold yet again.

“Cum in my pussy daddy.” She moaned.

That was it. He leaned forward, placing his lips on her neck, closing his eyes even tighter than before. He grinded deeply into her until he felt his muscles in his stomach flex.

”Fuck!” He groaned into her neck as he shot his cum deep into her pussy. He stroked forcefully until he felt all of himself empty inside of her, before stopping and letting go of her hair.

There they rested against the bathroom counter struggling to catch their breath, holding onto each other for dear life. After a few minutes they both opened their eyes and stared at each other through the mirror.

“Sleep in my room tonight.” He began. “Or you’re fired.” He finished, pulling himself out of her and leaving the room.

She felt her knees buckle as she struggled to keep herself upright.

”I love my job.” She said to herself.

(I hope y’all liked it 😭 excuse any mistakes)

🩵

[sweetestsong]

i think tf141 cuddle pile (either platonic or not) would be wonderful

you’re cuddled up on just one at first, mister johnny soap mactavish himself. ever the touchy one, he begged to nap with you in the rec room. he whined about being tired, the both of you having nothing as far as you knew for the rest of the day but dinner, and he said his back was ‘right killin’ him’ and he thought that if he was able to snuggle with someone it’d make him relax enough to sleep. you asked if it would be better to go in a private room, but he just wiggled his eyebrows and tried to make a snarky comment. of course, the pillow flying at his face at mach speed didn’t allow for him to get it out. after making a pile of spare blankets and stiff throw pillows, johnny even went to his and your rooms to grab your sleeping pillows. you wondered out loud in fear if simon or john would get mad at the mess, but johnny brushed it off with a nonchalant “they’ll get in on it or get over it, lass!” you sighed, and gave in to it as you began to settle in the messy pillow nest he made.

kyle was the first to discover you and johnny. he had been walking by to head to the mess hall for a late lunch, having gotten caught up in the gym doing extra reps with one of his teammates, and stumbled upon the messy collapsed-pillow-fort-looking pile with you two in the center. johnny’s head pressed on your chest with a protective clutch around your waist as he snored, and if you weren’t fast asleep yourself you’d be beating him with a hard pillow for drooling on your uniform. kyle watched for a moment in curiosity before shrugging, deciding to crawl under the blanket with you both. he looked for an open spot for a moment before he settled his head on johnny’s back. the scot barely moved, but mumbled a “hi garrick” in his sleepy tone before returning to his dreamy state.

simon is next, reports on the last mission in hand to be turned in. he was just coming from his room, and had to pass the rec room on the way to the office, and was shocked to see three bodies snoozing on the floor. he was about to shout as soon as he saw the boots sticking out under the blanket, but he noticed the familiar mohawk, and then noticed it was you under johnny and kyle lounged on him. and then he began to grin like a kid finding a candy stash. taking off silently, he raced to grab his own pillows and came back, whispering to wake you up to let him hold you. everyone grumbled for a second at having time readjust, but once you all were back in your familiar postions—with the addition of a warm body under you instead of the cold floor—you were all content.

john had been looking for all of you for an hour by the time he found you, and he was almost ready to fly off the handle because of it. when he rounded the hall with stomping boots, ready to rip you all a new one when he was told what was going on by a shithead newbie, his feet stuttered when he came upon the scene before him. you’d all shifted by then to mold together easier. simon was still under you, but johnny had slid to the side of you two to hold both of you, and kyle had taken to holding you and simon from the other side. john is a tough man, but he doesn’t consider himself a cold one. he noticed the reports simon had failed to turn in, the original mission of his, and he decided with a sigh to quietly take the folders and return them to the office himself. of course, though, he made his journey quick and returned to you all in record time. knowing he’s a furnace of a man, he stayed on top of the blanket as he crawled to replace where johnny once laid.

you stirred awake as the fourth pair of arms surrounded you, and the sight of your captain had your eyes popping wide with fear. “c-captain, i’m so sorry—“ you began to babble, hurrying to sit up, but john’s arms held you down tight. “lay down lass, s’alright,” he mumbled, his own voice quiet with sleepiness. you hesitantly settled back in, glancing over to see kyle’s eyes cracked and a soft smile on his lips. johnny and simon’s hands rubbed soothing circles on you as john shifted to get more comfortable. you shifted a moment, before finally settling back down once more, soothed.

a moment of silence spread over you all as sleep began to take over again, before you heard john mumble, “‘sides, i know it’s johnny to blame. he’ll run everyone’s laps in the morning.”

“WOT THE FOCK?!” johnny yelled up as he sat straight up to look down at a grinning price. three angry voices hissed a “SHHHHHHHH” at him, and he stared with wide-eyed shock at his traitorous snuggle buddies before he begrudgingly settled back down. you just barely heard him mumble, “dinnae know snugglin’ was insubordination, keep my fockin’ ideas for relaxin’ to meself next time.”

despite john’s threat, cuddle piles became way more frequent between you all and everyone was always welcome to join :)

[celebedsy]

Connor Bedard and Fraser Minten; through the years - a primer

before we get into it i wanna say that @tor16 and i have been working on this primer and compiling as much as we could over the course of a couple months so we could have everything in one place. we tried our best to link our sources to everything also to double as an archive for them. ok thats it thank you go nuts!

Connor Bedard and Fraser Minten met in the spring of 2017. Fraser was 13 Connor was 12. 

“First time meeting Connor (around spring 2017) I was 13 and I remember he came out to a skate with my spring hockey team,” Minten told the Tribune in a text conversation. “Everyone was young at that age and didn’t really pay attention to who’s who or what’s really happening. Just go out on the ice and have a blast with your friends. So Connor was just another body. But I distinctly remember, right away we were doing this 1-on-1 battle drill out of the corner, and Connor went up against our best player, first rep, and the way he was able to stick-handle around him and then finish it off was insane. He made our best player look silly.”

Fraser studied his shot and stick-handling the entire time they practiced.

“The creative plays he was making just didn’t happen at that age. I would try and shoot as quick as him in my rep and the puck would barely get off the ice.”

He mentioned seeing Connor out on the ice with NHL players like Ryan Nugent-Hopkins and Matthew Barzal and thinking he was “just as good if not better than them.” 

"He was shooting the puck just as good if not better than those guys. And that was probably when I realized it was pretty world-class, that release."

Fraser has talked a lot about noticing how skilled Connor was even when they were still so young, how he always expected to see him succeed. 

“I ended up on the ice with him a lot over the next spring/summer as I started going to the North Shore winter club … and every day (my friends and I) would go there, Connor would be on the ice. It seemed that he was always there before we arrived and was still on the ice as we were leaving. Whether it be specifically practicing one-timers, doing shootouts for hours or just gliding around flicking pucks around, talking about different scenarios, he just simply loved being on the ice and playing around and the joy he got from it seemed inexhaustible. By the time I got to play with him for the first time the following year at West Van, I was not surprised at all at the level he was playing at. I’d seen him make goalies years older than him look like sieves, scoring crazy releases that kids that age didn’t even think about. He knew how to get defenders to put their stick exactly where he needed them and then slip it under, go around them and the puck was through the goalie’s five-hole before they had even set for the shot.”

The next year they were teammates for West Van Warriors and became good friends. 

“He never treated you like he was way better than you, even though he was, and wouldn’t get frustrated with you when you would make mistakes. This made it really easy to learn from him and made playing with him so much fun.” 

According to their coach, Minten learned a lot from playing with him. 

“He identified he had one of the best shooters on the planet in Connor Bedard on his team. He said, ‘I’m going to have the courage to stay as close to Connor in shooting practice as I can’.”

Some pictures of them from their West Van era (both from Minten’s instagram)

This would pay off, because the two of them led the team in shooting percentage that year.

Their stats during their time playing together.

You can see them playing together here, Connor is wearing #98 and Fraser is #16. 

Connor was given exceptional status to play in the WHL despite being a year younger, he was drafted to the Regina Pats and Minten was drafted to the Kamloops Blazers. Despite no longer being teammates, they still kept in touch and remained friends. 

Minten was asked about Connor Bedard before he was set out to play against him in the Regina vs Blazers game in Kamloops.

“Yeah he’s one of my good friends back home, great guy, excited to play against him.” Q: Have you talked to him about what it’s like to go through this media frenzy? “No, I haven’t really talked to him about it. I’m sure he’d rather just not hear about it for once. I think it’s pretty crazy for him, it probably feels a little surreal at times–he’s just trying to play hockey and have some fun and he gets a lot of attention for sure.” Q: What do you think it would be like to be in his shoes? “Yeah it’d be tough I bet. It’s pretty hard to deal with the outside noise when you’ve got that much of it all the time but if there’s a guy who can deal with it well, it would be him.”

Even during the off seasons, they spend a lot of time together training, skating, and even doing inline hockey. In a media availability in 2024, Minten talks about how often they see each other in the summers and that they’re still pretty close. 

Q: How much are you still in touch with Connor Bedard?  “Yeah I still talk to him quite a bit, I mean in the summer we get to see each other almost every day training, so hopefully get to go say hi to him after this.”

Some pictures of them together during the offseason. training pics from their trainer's website.

This is a post from the inline hockey league they competed in, and this is a video from one of the summer tournaments they played in together. 

They also like to interact with each other on instagram so here are some of their replies on each other's posts:

During the NHL draft in 2022, Connor Bedard, who was slated to be the first-overall pick for the 2023 draft, flew out to Montreal to watch the draft. 

Coincidentally, this year was also the year that Fraser Minten got drafted to the Leafs. The draft happened on July 7, 2022, just two days after Minten’s birthday. According to this tweet, he had arrived at Montreal on his birthday, and would be rooming with Connor Bedard. 

“I remember before our bantam season, he wasn’t even really projected to get drafted into the WHL,” says the 17-year-old Bedard, who helped Canada advance to Saturday’s final at the world junior hockey championship at Rogers Place. “He put up, like, 70 points or something like that, so I knew he was going to be the steal of the draft. To see him going as high as he did to Toronto, one of the biggest franchises — he was pumped. It was really cool for me to see that.” “He was obviously a big help in my career,” Minten says of Bedard, “from playing with him and just learning so much from being by his side, and watching how hard he works every day and how much he gives to the game ... So, it was really cool for him to be there and it was really good for him, as well, getting a bit of a look at what it’s like in person prior to (his draft year).”

When asked about the pressure Connor was facing as the projected first overall pick, Fraser also said:

“I don’t think he worries about that stuff at all,” Minten says. “For him, it’s just about playing the game. He just loves the game, and everything that comes with it is a bonus for him. I don’t think he’s worried at all about what other people say … I think, by the end, he’ll be right where everyone hopes he is.”

Also worth highlighting that this is the title of the article all of these quotes come from:

Another fun fact about the 2022 draft; Chicago gave Toronto the pick that they used for Minten.

In a trade with Chicago, the Leafs traded Petr Mrazek and a first round pick (25th) in exchange for a second round pick (38th). The second round pick would turn out to be what the Leafs used to draft Fraser Minten. 

“And like Cowan, the Leafs were set on Minten. Though they were slated to pick at 25, they began to believe they could nab Minten later on. He was still on the board on day two at 38 after a trade with the Chicago Blackhawks allowed the Leafs to pick high in the second round.”

Also, just for the sake of including this somewhere, they also share an agent. 

The summer before the 2023-24 season began, the two of them lived together in Toronto for a few weeks. Why Connor was in Toronto is not actually known, but they’ve both brought this up multiple times—when they refer to living together, this is the time period they’re talking about. 

In this interview, Fraser gets asked about the phone calls he made after making the team and says he “... called my good buddies from junior teams and bantam midget teams I played with right away.”

According to this interview, Connor and Fraser exchanged messages of support for one another during training camp. Minten was also asked who was the better player when they were linemates in West Van: 

"Him, by a mile," Minten said. "By a mile. Hopefully we get to play against each other at some point."

After Minten made the Leafs roster, “his WHL pal Connor Bedard sent him a good luck message and said  “I hope I play against you”.”

The Leafs and Blackhawks played against each other on October 16th 2023, which was their first NHL game against one another. Connor was asked about playing against him for the first time:

“Of course you dream about it, once I got picked and we knew he was here of course—we actually lived together for a little bit this summer in Toronto, so we talked about it a bit there. I don’t know if you guys [in the media] expected him to make the team. In his mind, he expected to make the team, and I never expected anything less from him. The way he earned that spot, he showed everyone,” Bedard said. “Right when it was announced he made the team, we were fired up, talking about how it feels like yesterday we were playing on a line in bantam. It’s crazy how time flies. It’s really special.”

Minten was asked what he remembers from their days of playing together, if they ever talked about playing against each other at the NHL level:

“I don’t think we ever talked about that, obviously we both wanted that to happen—probably him more than me at that point, he probably thought it was more of a realistic possibility. But I remember he was just unreal, better than everybody and could score at will, and was also just a super humble and hardworking kid.”

Minten also got asked “how to stop him”, and said “he can do everything, so you just want to limit his space, time, and get the puck away from him.” 

Later in October, in response to a question about locker room arguments over CHL rivalries, Connor’s first example of another player who came up through the WHL was: “I grew up playing with Fraser Minten in Toronto, that’s pretty cool.”

In this interview, Minten gets asked: “I don't know how many people have asked you—probably a million—being Connor Bedards close friend and teammate, I'm assuming you're not surprised with what he's done since he left North Van, in the dub and in the NHL, probably not surprised at all?”

“No, no, not at all. He works harder than anybody else, like significantly. I think his teammates in Chicago would say the same thing. He's got a level of commitment and passion and dedication that is genuinely unmatched by some of the superstars in the NHL,  I think. I think we’ll continue to see him defy people’s expectations, and even if he doesn’t he’ll be doing everything he can to, so, I wouldn’t bet against him that’s for sure.”

In 2023, Fraser Minten was selected to be the captain for World Juniors and Connor sent him a congratulatory message. 

In this video with WJC Team Canada, in response to a question about the first time scouts started showing up at his games, Minten said: 

“I remember there started being a lot of guys in black jackets at games when I started playing with Connor. There would be lots of them because he was special—still is.”

In this Leafs TikTok where the prompt was to give a compliment to the person behind you, Minten points to his teammate’s jersey and says “best 98 out there.” Presumably a friendly chirp towards first overall 2023 draft pick Connor Bedard.

In this media availability from the Leafs-Blackhawks game in December 2024, Minten was asked what it was like to play against Connor again a year later. 

“Yeah it's awesome, anytime it’s the uh—you know, it's the NHL and we’re playing against each other. If you told us that when we were 13-14 we would’ve found it really cool, so it’s special for sure.”

Fraser Minten scored his second NHL goal against the Chicago Blackhawks later that day. 

(BONUS: Fraser usually has a crazy game when he plays against Connor. In the Pats vs Blazers game he was awarded second star for his 2 goals and 1 assist game, totaling 3 points in the Blazers 9-3 victory over the Pats. He scored his second NHL goal against the Blackhawks, helping Toronto win against Chicago 4-1. In 2025 after being recalled by the Bruins and playing vs the Blackhawks, despite a loss, he led the team in both SOG and shifts taken. Pasta went on to say that Minten’s line was the best line that night.)

After the trade to Boston, Minten spent a couple games playing in Providence before getting the call up to play for the Bruins, a couple days before the Bruins were set to play against the Blackhawks in Boston. There were no schedules the day before the game so they took the opportunity to get dinner together at Abe & Louie’s. 

“They had the opportunity to go out to dinner last night. And for Fraser Minten, he just got to town. Asked, where’d you decide to go, where’d you take him? He said ‘I googled steakhouse and some place– Abe something came up.’ I said, good choice! Abe & Louie’s!”

BONUS: idk where to put this bc for some reason I can’t find where this came from but here’s a picture of Minten wearing a Chicago Blackhawks hat from 2021 (also, somehow the only NHL teams that Minten follows on instagram are the Leafs (drafted to) the Bruins (traded to) the Canucks (vancouver kid) and the Blackhawks (???)

(same hat just backwards, from minten's instagram)

4/16/25 - this is all for now. this primer will be updated anytime something significant happens.

UPDATE - 06/20/25

Clips (not mine) of Connor and Fraser taken in Vancouver for their summer training program with Kaivo.

[grandline-fics]

Hi I'm so in love w your blog I love your writings 💙 n e ways I was wondering if you would write a small multiple character fic w luffy and zoro when you hide an injury💙 tyyy

DESCRIPTION: You hide an injury

WARNINGS:  light injury description but nothing bad

CHARACTERS: Zoro, Luffy

WORDS: 1,268

A/N: I'm so glad you like my writing and thank you for the request. I hope this was to your liking!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

————————

ZORO

He’d told you not to push yourself. He warned you the dangerous of training beyond your limits so soon after a battle. Zoro told you to listen to your body and like a fool you wanted to prove to him you were strong, that you could do it. You should have listened because when you made the next rep in your training you felt the pull in your back and the pain jolted through you to the point your eyes blurred with tears, the air was slammed out of your lungs. The weight dropped out of your hand loudly and you stumbled back to the window seat closest to you, shuddering out slow, shallow breaths as you tried to calm yourself from the initial shock. By the time the hatch opened and Zoro’s head appeared you’d managed to control your expression. “What happened?”

“N-nothing.” You insisted, still breathless that you hoped you could just pass off as tiredness from the training. “Was getting tired and the weight slipped. Just catching my breath.” Zoro watched you carefully as he entered the Crow’s Nest fully and approached you, his keen stare never moving from your face. You met his gaze as much as you could and tried to seem as relaxed as possible even though the pain was still spasming in your back. Yes, you’d endured harsher injuries in countless battles and you would recover from this without any issue. All you needed to do was take it slow and easy and rest. The only problem was managing to keep it hidden from Zoro to avoid him getting smug about you not listening to him.

“Looks like you’ve caught your breath, you going to start up again?” Zoro asked casually, jerking his head back towards the weight on the ground. “Seems like you weren’t finished.”

“Uhh I would continue but that’s a heavier weight than I’m used to. Better to quit while I’m ahead right? Last thing we need is an injury.” You forced out with a tight smile, stiffly getting to your feet and heading towards the hatch. It wasn’t until you were nearly there that you realised you’d have to stoop down to lift it open and make the climb down and you felt like crying or cursing. Just as you prepared to do what would bring you more pain, Zoro’s arm wrapped around your waist gently to keep you upright. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Stopping you from hurting yourself anymore than you already have.” You tensed at that and let your eyes slide closed in slight annoyance that he already knew. Zoro had a talent of seeming laid-back and unobservant when really he was taking everything in, you hated that about him but also admired him for it. For now though your pride was wounded along with your back and you couldn’t help but pout when Zoro crouched down to open the hatch before lifting you gently but securely into his hold with one arm before using the other to carry you down the mast. 

When you were safely in your shared room you let out a groan when you lay on the bed. A sigh of relief followed when Zoro’s hand went straight to where the pain was at its worst, applying just the right amount of pressure and care to help your back. It got so good that you could feel yourself beginning to fall asleep but Zoro’s voice saying your name got your attention. Softly you let out a hum to show you were listening. “I told you so.”

LUFFY

You loved Luffy, you truly did. You loved how energetic and fierce he was, how he always had a smile and a laugh for nearly any situation. You loved how serious he got in a fight and how no one, no matter how much bigger they were or how important they were he still faced them head on if they did something to bring his fury on them. What you didn’t like was that sometimes that energy and that fightable spirit remained even when he was asleep. For the most part you managed to get used to it, jumping awake some nights when he let out a yell that he’d kick his dream opponents ass. Other times you’d wake to him bolting upright in the bed, his fist reeled back to throw a punch only for his body to flop back down against the mattress, his sleep undisturbed. 

One night however was one were Luffy’s dream fighting struck hard and more intense than you’d experienced before. When he bolted upright in the bed and yelled out you were tossed onto your back blinking wildly in the dark as you adjusted to being violently woken and trying to make out Luffy’s form. You waited patiently for him to start to make his attack and flop back onto the bed again but this time it didn’t play out the way it usually did. 

Over and over Luffy punched the air, sleepily grunting out attacks and insults. You knew not to wake anyone if they sleep-walked but you weren’t fully sure on those that sleep-fought. You gasped and managed to avoid Luffy’s arm whipping back, hitting the pillow where your head had been mere seconds ago. Cautiously you sat up in the bed and scrambled to think of something, anything to soothe him. Then you did the only thing you could think of.

“Luffy! You won!” You cheered out, loud enough to reach Luffy’s ears but not too loud to wake the others on the ship. You sighed in relief to see the broad grin stretch out across his face and with a sleepy laugh he threw himself backwards. You settled against the pillows and prepared to fall asleep again when Luffy let out a cheer, arms and legs kicking out in celebration. With your eyes closed you didn’t see it coming and you were hit hard with enough force to be knocked awkwardly and painfully onto the floor. On impact you felt your wrist spike with pain and you bit back the urge to cry out. Thankfully you hitting the floor didn’t wake Luffy and you were able to slip back into bed.

When morning came you woke first and were able to change into your clothes for the day, picking a shirt that hid your bruised wrist and forearm from view. You knew nothing was broken and it would heal, it just looked worse than what it was. If anything you were lucky that this was your only injury for facing Luffy. You were prepared to keep a low profile for the day but unexpectedly Luffy appeared behind you so fast and cheer out an excited good morning to you. With a startled yell you spun and put your hand on your chest, the action slipping your sleeve down just enough to show the beginning of the bruise. Luffy’s eyes widened and he reached out to take you hand. “What happened?!”

“Uhh…” You glanced at your hand in his hold and sighed. You couldn’t lie to him. “You pushed me out of bed, hit it on the floor. I’m fi-” You were cut off with a yelp when Luffy lifted you immediately. “Luffy! I’m fine, it’s a bruise.”

“No! You’re taking it easy if you’re injured!”

“It’s just my hand, I can still walk.”

“No! I’m your legs and arms today.” Luffy insisted before grinning at you when you laughed and shook your head in resignation. How could you argue with the Captain when he looked at you like that?

----------------------------------------------

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi I love your writing ❤️ I saw requests were open and was hoping to get your headcannon on Vergil (and dante if you want) getting trapped in a small space during a mission with them and their crush (g/n / fem) maybe vergil was being distant and finally gets confronted in this situation and would they confess?? Thank you in advance if you do this 😂

im gonna give Vergil his time to shine because the motivated one deserves it. Also I’d like to think being half devil gives you heightened senses.

Vergil vergil isn't keen with his current situation, not in the slightest. The furrow in his brow, the periodic clench in his jaw, and the obvious tension within his battle ready body that was screaming at him to strike, to fight instead of being forced into seeking refuge within a cramp, enclosed space but he wasn't alone. no. you were trapped within this enclosed space with him. he had taken on a seemigly straightforward mission for someone of his calibur, made to take you along as precaution, even though none was need as much as Vergil is concerned as he was confident in his abilties to keep himslef -and you even if he didn't want to admit it to himself neverless aloud- safe. yet here he was, concealed within the room that wasn't made with two people in mind as Vergil wasn't sure where he started and you ended with how tightly pressed together you were. He wasn't comfortable in the slightest, he was like a caged and wounded animal in this situation, forced with confontion thoughts that he didn't wish to think about, feelings that brought about his distain for his human side for being so emotional and weak in every aspects that his devil side was not. there was a reason he didn't want to confront with these emotions that you brought forth so effortlessly, a reason why he distanced himself from you, minimalised the amount of interactions that you had with him by leaving the room when you entered or short and clipped responses to your longer ones. Vergil did everything he could to stop himself from being curious regarding matters of the heart, curious about you as he would watch from afar, never adhearing to his soul that ached in knowing you better. He hated how weak and fragile you made him feel, he hated it all and so he assumed in a positon in where it looked as though he hated you as a whole. Dante calls him a dick for it but Vergil isn't one to go back on things when his mind was made. and while Vergil distanced himself from you in every aspect he could think of, yet he still held a boiling pot of ugly emotions when you were in the company of others. he realises the irony and splits the hatred for himself and you in equal parts, and yet here he was, as though fate had decided that he had avoided this internal conflict within himsef for long enough. now he had no way of escaping his situation and with no excuse as to why he couldn't bear to be within the same room as you, vergil was left with another of his own making to see through to the end, despite how much he wasn't keen in doing so but was aware that he couldn't run away from this any longer then he already has. Vergil knew his feelings for you blossomed the day you asked about his readings in a rare moment where he didn't avoid your presence, which lead into a deep conversation between the two of you and Vergil feeling a shift of emotions within his chest; things that made him caucious and on his toes in surprise. 'so, since we're going to be stuck here a while, mind telling me why you've been avoiding me?' your question brought Vergil from his internal conflict and brings his attention to you, his piercing blue eyes were enough to freeze anyone to their spot, but something told you that the annoyance held within them wasn't aimed towards you but more or less what you brought out of him; things he didn't want to be feeling. ever. 'nothing regarding our current predicament would change even if i did reveal the reasons why i avoid you, as you so put it.' vergil replies, steadfast in his ways to not say anything that will be used against him sooner or later. you sigh, realising that what dante said about his brother being a hardass about his feelings were becoming more and more true, you knew that in order to get him to say anythign you need him to crack but how. could you crack the exterior of a man who seemingly was encased in unbreakable ice. '

‘Dante said you like me.’ You said and Vergil’s jaw tensed, his eyes narrowed.

‘You’re as much of a fool for believing him in such matters.’ Vergil replies, anger laced in his words as he’s once again forced to remember that you were in the company of his brother, so much so that he could smell his brother on you without having to rely on his heightened senses.

You shrug. ‘Maybe but he at least has some wisdom in him when it comes to you and how you operate.’

Vergil crosses his arms. ‘And what’s that? What wisdom could Dante ever provide that would be fruitful in your attempts in getting me to open up?’

‘He knows that you let me exist freely within your presence, feeling no need to keep Yamato so closely to your being as you aren’t under threat by me, the exact opposite really. You allow me to exist and while you may try to intimidate me, the icy cool you give off doesn’t reach me, it’s fabricated and that you only make yourself like that so no harm comes to me, just like you have been doing this entire mission.’

You smiled upon seeing Vergil’s stance slackens upon realising he had been caught, seen through. ‘you’ve been keeping me safe whether you know it or not. So you do like me but don’t want to admit it.’ You finished off, feeling good about yourself in heading Dante’s words, of course he would know his own twin better than most.

Vergil huffs through his nose, condemning Dante within his mind, stabbing him even, but when he looks at you he knows he’s been had and he can’t hide behind this facade that he hated you; not anymore as it wouldn’t benefit him nor fool you as it once had. ‘I do harbour feels of want towards you. I harbour feelings that I thought I had casted away in my conquest, seeing no need for them where I was heading.’ Vergil said, watching your every emotion as they flash upon your face, ‘and yet you came into my life and brought forth feeling I can only imagine my mother had brought out of my father.’

You wondered if Sparda acted the same way Vergil did when realising he feels for Eva, or did he accept that he couldn’t run from these emotions and made them known to her as soon as possible? Questions that would never be answered.

Little did you know Vergil wondered this too, wondered whether his father kept his distance from his mother to keep her safe, or if he fought to keep her in his life despite the dangers it entitled. He didn’t want you to share his mother’s fate. It was something he kept wondering for days and countless nights. He even wondered if they would like you if they were still here to see what has become of their children.

‘There’s no shame in feeling Vergil.’ You told him as you reached for his hand, making him freeze in place as you held it against his scarred hand against your chest, feeling the strong song of your heart against his palm. ‘You’re allowed to feel however you like, hatred, anger, love, happiness, but I can’t help you if you won’t let me in, even if a little.’ You say softly and Vergil moved his hand so it would intertwine with yours, palms kissing and the stark difference between the two of you becoming clearer to him as his need to keep you safe under his wing overwhelms him.

He must keep you protected. He needed to.

‘Let you in.’ He murmurs to himself as he felt your thumb caress his hand before finding himself leaning in and pressing his forehead against yours, eyes firmly locked on your own with a hint of softness that you knew was meant for you and you alone. ‘If letting you in means to be closer to my human side, I would’ve rejected the thought without hesitation, now I find myself willing to embrace such things, only if it means getting to share them with you and seeing what my father saw and fell in love with humanity.’

You smiled as you brush your nose against his, relived. ‘I’ll be there every step of the way Vergil, you’re not alone anymore, I won’t let you be alone and if me being a pain in your ass is the only way to do so, then I’ll do it until it’s all you can think of.’

Vergil lets out a rare laugh as he closes his eyes, picturing how your lives form this point onwards would look, and while it’s not bright nor clear to see, Vergil found content in knowing that at least he’ll have you by his side. He could begin to see aspects as why his father fell in love with humanity, as he himself fell in love with humanity unknowingly the moment you made deep conversation with him that day, and knew he would continue to do so from this point onwards.

[flowerfreya]

Repercussions

The next part in the office AU

Masterlist

Content: Readers ex boyfriend tries to win her back( does not go well ) and then she discovers she has a crush on all four of them *gasp*

Pairing : poly!141 x reader

If have any thing you want to see from this group of people, please let me know. Lowkey running out of ideas lol

Price, Soap, and Ghost stand in front of the room where you were just taken. “She’s just trying to get attention”, he shifts his gaze to Price, “You know what I mean?”, he raises his eyebrows in a know what I mean motion. 

Price is not amused ,“No, I don't know what you mean”.

“Maybe you need to take a walk”, Soap says. He tries to guide him to entrance but your ex is  a glutton for punishment. 

“No,she a bitch, she used me as a gold digger”,he spits out, waving his arms and yelling and honestly embarrassing himself. 

“Mate, you need gold in order for that to happen”, Simon is trying to move him away from the door but he is very persistent. 

“You take another step it will be your last in this building” 

He slowly turns around, “You can’t do that, there's a process”, he smirks, thinking that he’s won. 

“Oh I know the process, we have been doing the process”, he lists all the things that your ex-boyfriend has been doing or in this case, not doing. 

Price has always had a problem with your ex boyfriend, they hired him on a whim and they needed a body. They had hoped that he would have no call , no show and they could help him but alas , he very very sadly persisted. He started fucking up almost four months ago, showing up late leaving early , taking long lunches. Price had finally found his in. He’s been putting in the work with Kyle to fire him, that when he brought you in for an interview. 

Price knew that men like him , took out his frustration on the women in his life because that's just the man he is. So he put a pause on it, you didn’t deserve that. When he got that call from Simon that you had called asking for help he knew that it was a sign.

~ 

Your ex is still moaning and bitching about you, then he says something that makes you not care. 

“Oh shut the fuck up” , you yell at him and walking out the backroom. He’s shocked that you responded, you're usually very passive in this , thinking it’s easy to agree then to argue. He starts stuttering, not used to this from you. 

“Uh -u -u -u” , you mock him. You get close to him so tired of just taking it. You’re so done with him. 

“Nothing to say?” , you ask him. He looks around like one of your guys are going to help but he finds none. 

“Can you do me favor and just fucking go?” ,you're so pissed that you let yourself get to this level, this sad sad place, where knowing that you need better, that you deserve better but just staying. Settling. 

He tries to change tactics with you, “Baby, please you know that I’m sorry, I messed up please forgive me”, he gets tears in the corner of his eyes. 

You scoff, “You know you caused this , you decided to leave me here and be a jerk when I asked you to pick me up”, you pause and wait for him to respond and he has nothing to say. 

“We are done, over, never getting back together, wrap your brain around that”. 

He tries to say something else but John cuts him off and leads( pushes) him toward the exit. 

Once he’s out the door, you kind of deflate when you no longer see him. Kye places his hand on your shoulder, “Alright?”, you want to go home and curl into a ball and drink dessert wine still your stomach hurts. 

“Can I go home?”, you don’t make eye contact with him even though you know that he is trying to connect with you. You can’t do life today and being with all of them today is going to be too much. You are single for the first time in a very long time and you have a crush on your boss ... .and coworker ... .and your other coworker… and your HR rep. How do you go from hating your only romantic partner to having a crush on four people? 

[redtsundere-writes]

Date 4. Running

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soldier!Reader

Beginning. 🡨 Previous | Next 🡪

Summary: You just want to help Ghost to stop harming himself… These aren't dates, okay?

TW: MNDI. Self-harm. PTSD. Domestic Violence. Death. Grief. Smut.

Warnings & Tags

“Holy shit,” you huffed, dropping the weights after a deadlift. Out of all the exercises, you hated lifting weights. It was always an uncomfortable experience not being one of the strongest on the team, but you still had to include it in your training. More than strength, it improved your grip, which is sometimes all it takes to save a life.

Your headphones played your favorite song as you massaged your finger joints in a short break. The gym was packed with soldiers, but you could still spot Soap approaching you with his typical contagious energy. Even though he had given you a bad feeling when you met him a year ago, you now considered him a good coworker. You paused the music as you realized he wanted to talk to you as usual.

“Are you done with your routine?” Soap asked you with that suggestive tone that characterized him, you no longer knew if it was on purpose or if he really talks like that.

“I’m done after some reps, why?”

“I was just thinking about you… And me… Some cardio.” Soap raised an eyebrow, emphasizing the last word.

“In your bed or mine?” You played along, already used to his attempts to sleep with you.

“Mine. I don’t want to bother LT.” Soap answered with a mischievous smile, humping the air and making bed sounds. You rolled your eyes and pushed him to shut up.

“Wait for me outside,” you said with a smile.

Soap laughed, but he listened to you. This was already part of your daily routine. You would train separately and then go out for a run around the base as a final cardio. You shook your head at his attempt at flirting as you took the bandages off your hands. Even though you had already rejected him on several occasions, the guy was still trying to win you over. You thought that was kind of adorable.

Ghost had watched the entire interaction like a curious hawk from across the gym, where he was doing backstroke on one of the machines. He tightened his grip on the rope that connected to the weights as he watched you fix your hair in front of the mirror before following his coworker. Why did you care about your appearance out of nowhere? Did you even like Soap? He knew how the saying went: Behind every joke there is some true. Price, who was nearby, saw how the lieutenant stopped in the middle of the exercise to focus on you. Today he was in the mood to tease the lieutenant.

“I’m glad those two are getting along now,” Price commented, bringing Ghost out of his thoughts.

“Ah… Yes,” he replied dryly, clearing his throat. “Interesting answer,” the captain thought.

“They work very well together, too,” Price pressed on the wound.

Ghost remained silent. You really could work with anyone, as you were excellent at teamwork. Even though you weren't as strong as the rest of the men on the 141, you had great reflexes and worked better under pressure. In your time on the task force, you had gotten into the swing of things pretty well. However, that didn't mean he'd like to see you flirt so blatantly with MacTavish.

“You like her, don't you?” Price concluded at his silence.

Ghost's eyes widened as he realized his own feelings. After spending the whole year together as your supervisor, the fact that you cared about him, that he felt at peace when you were alone, or that he loved the way you made tea, wasn't because of something platonic. It was because of something more. From that to him admitting it, that was a different story.

“Nothing to see, Captain,” Ghost replied reluctantly, leaving the machine to go to the weight area he had recently abandoned.

Price couldn’t help but giggle as soon as he left. He had seen this a thousand times in the military. Two lovebirds ignoring their feelings in the name of “professionalism.” Price knew the consequences of having accepted you into the 141st. He knew his men, many looked at you with interested eyes as you were one of the few women on the base, but Ghost’s eyes shone more. If he didn’t do something soon, this was going to get interesting.

Ghost moved his foot anxiously. He tried to fall asleep, but his knuckles itched to be destroyed again. It had been almost a month since he had last taken out his resentment on a punching bag. His foot moved harder, to the point that it shook the bunk a little.

“Psst.”

Ghost opened his eyes and saw your head peeking out of the bunk bed like a little bat hanging from a tree branch.

“One of those nights?” You whispered. Ghost just nodded.

You both left the building. It was one of those classic nights in England, cold and full of mystery. The clouds were so heavy that there weren’t any stars in sight. The mist infiltrated the air. You closed your hoodie and put on your hod. Ghost, like a good Brit, was only wearing a gray shirt as if it were a quiet summer night.

“Well, cleaning doesn’t work in the long term and eating out of anxiety isn’t the best option either.” You sighed, disappointed that your first attempts to get Ghost to stop self-harming had partially failed. “I was reading about self-harm and experts say…”

You couldn’t see it, but Ghost was smiling under his balaclava as you explained what you had researched on the subject. It was nice to see you giving your best effort to help him, even if it negatively affected your routine. That smile faded as guilt settled over his chest. You should be asleep under the warmth of your butterfly blanket, not awake in the middle of the cold morning. You didn't deserve to have such an incompetent supervisor like him.

“So I thought: What's the closest thing to destroying your fingers but without causing physical pain? Running. That will tire your body out so you can sleep easily,” you explained proudly, warming up your muscles.

It was worth a try. Ghost just had to find a way for him to avoid self-harm without depending on you and running seemed like a good idea. After stretching, Ghost started jogging and you followed behind him. You sometimes envied his physique. He had everything you didn't, the ideal body of a soldier. Tall, wide, strong, a big butt. He was good at everything too. Spying, interrogation, hand-to-hand combat, use of firearms of all calibers. You shook your head to focus again on following his burly back. You were still a bit tired from running all over the base with Soap earlier that day, but you were sure you could keep up with him if you took it easy.

It had started out well. You both jogged through the empty streets, following the white streetlights. The cold seeped into your lungs. You both quickened your pace once your bodies got used to the activity. Right, left, right, left in a loop. A small drop of water landed on your head. You stopped and held out your hand, sure enough, it was about to start raining. You should have checked the weather forecast before you left.

“Hey, Ghost, I think we should head back,” you said, but it seemed like he didn’t hear you as he kept running. “Ghost?” You called out to him again, confused as you watched him walk away at a faster pace than you were going.

The drops began to fall slowly, a countdown before the deluge. You had nothing to protect you from the rain. If you didn't go back, the chances of getting sick were high. The lieutenant kept running on his own. Something was wrong, you could feel it. You ran after him when your intuition told you to go back to base, but you would never leave a soldier behind. Your legs hurt, but you had to get him back to the dorms.

“Ghost!”

“Simon!” His father shouted at him.

He was barely 12 years old, that age. A complicated stage for anyone. His emotions were on the tightrope, his mind was in chaos, and he wanted to jerk off all day like any teenager. Simon was an ordinary boy with tastes and dreams, only he had a terrible father.

A violent drunk, a stinky smoker and a man stressed after the death of his wife. He was obsessed with his children being strong and big, so he beat them often and forced them to do dangerous challenges like kissing snakes to build their character. Being the oldest, Simon was the one who received the most beatings, but he was also the one who had to beat his father to exhaustion. He would do anything to survive in his own home.

He was 12 years old when his father decided to take him to a concert of the band where he used to play, Bone Lickers. He had blocked out most of that night, but he remembers the multicolored lights, the disgusting smell of alcoholic vomit, and feeling his eardrums about to burst for the first time. He was alone in the middle of the audience. While everyone was dancing like idiots, hitting each other in the mosh pit, or singing the lyrics until their vocal cords were destroyed, Simon was lost in the artistic disaster.

That was when Simon made the worst decision of his life: to look for his father. He opened a door and surprise! His father was fucking a prostitute who was more dead than alive due to an overdose. If a tree falls in the middle of the forest, but no one hears it, did the tree really fall? He still didn't know the answer, but he was sure that the prostitute was real when she fell dead at his feet. The screams of his furious father faded into the background while his mind still tried to understand that he had a corpse in front of him. It took him years to realize that the first death he saw in his life had been caused by his father.

“Simon!” That was the only warning he needed to know he had to escape.

The rain suddenly enveloped him as he left the compound. He ran through the streets, but he had no destination. His father shouted his name over and over again in an attempt to stop him, but he would never stop voluntarily. His breathing was labored, his breath hot against the cold Manchester weather and his steps were wet but fast. His legs were beginning to tire as he ran through the paved streets of his city.

In search of shelter, he entered an unknown street. Terrible mistake. It was a dead end. Before he could change course, his father, drunk and drugged, was already on his way. His heart pumped panic in his veins with each step backward. The man he didn't know every time he drank shouted incoherent threats at him because of the effects of everything he had consumed that night.

“Simon!” His father shouted in anger as he grabbed him by the shirt. Simon closed his eyes as soon as the fist was about to hit his face.

“Ghost!” You screamed when you finally caught him.

Ghost opened his eyes suddenly as he came out of the trance. The heavy rain, the white lanterns of the base, you holding him tightly by the arm and his soaked shirt. Realizing that he had returned to his senses, you pulled him towards the nearest warehouse. It was being remodeled, so it was open. As soon as they crossed the door, you forced him to sit on the floor.

“You are safe. You are at the Task Force 141 base, Lieutenant Simon Riley. You just suffered from a flashback,” you explained as you kneeled in front of him, taking his face to connect eyes to make sure he heard you loud and clear while both of you shivered from the cold.

You had seen this before, you just didn’t know how to face it at the time. Fear, anger, the desire to escape a memory that haunts you all your life. You had already lived this in different ways throughout your life, but this time you knew what to do. You wouldn't allow yourself to lose someone to PTSD again.

“Breathe with me,” you asked him to help him catch his breath, but he had other plans.

Ghost took off his shirt. You froze at the unexpected action. Unlike the fact that you had already seen half a base shirtless at the gym, this was the first time you saw the half-naked lieutenant. His broad shoulders, his perfectly sculpted biceps were bigger than your head and his pecs… for a second you thought they were bigger than yours. Your eyes expanded more and more as you continued to admire the reliefs on his skin from the combat wounds and stretch marks. You came back to reality as Ghost tried to unzip your hoodie.

“Wait, wait! What are you doing?!” You exclaimed as you covered your chest.

“You're going to get sick if you stay in wet clothes,” Ghost replied.

“We can go back to the dorms!” You argued with blushing cheeks.

“The dorms are at least 5 kilometers away. You’re going to get pneumonia before we get back. You’re not used to this weather.” And with that, Ghost unzipped your hoodie.

He knew it was a terrible idea, but it was what he had to do if he wanted to protect you from the cold. After all, it was his fault you were in this situation. Your gray t-shirt clung to your curves like a latex glove. The worst part? Not wearing a bra, your cold nipples felt like they wanted to break through the fabric. “Shit…” he thought. He was about to take off your shirt, but you stopped him.

“Close your eyes,” you whispered with some shyness.

Ghost nodded before pulling you against his body, sitting you on his wide lap. He took your shirt by the edges and closed his eyes. He pulled the wet fabric slowly to prevent his fingers from rubbing against your damp skin, but it was practically impossible. He held his breath to not let out a moan, evidence of his excitement at feeling you in such an intimate way. He hugged you tightly to increase the heat between your bodies. Heat rose to your flushed cheeks at being in this uncomfortable situation with your supervisor.

Simon took advantage of your head being on his neck to take off the balaclava, heavy from all the water it had absorbed. He ran his fingers through his wet hair. He needed a haircut already, but he always forgot to wear the mask. You froze up, but not because of the cold, but because of the discomfort of the situation. You put your arms in front of you in an attempt to put as much distance between you as possible, but if you really needed to warm up, you should be chest to chest. Simon raised his legs so you were as close to him as possible and pressed your back so you would break down the wall between you.

Simon quickly realized that this had been a terrible idea. Both of them half naked, completely alone in the early morning, the rain giving a romantic touch to the whole thing. He soon realized that the blood wasn't just reaching his cheeks. You lifted your head as soon as you felt a lump in your crotch.

“Tell me it’s a gun,” you pleaded, not having the courage to look him in the face.

“I wish that too,” he whispered to you embarrassed.

“Lieutenant…” You groaned.

“Please don't call me that now,” he begged.

“Does it turn you on to be called by your rank?” You mocked with a mischievous smirk.

But the moment you faced him, the smile fell. It was the first time you saw your superior's face. You wanted to make fun of the situation to downplay the fact that your tits were on top of his, but seeing him only made you blush even more. His uncut blonde hair fell unruly over his forehead, his honey eyes were framed by his dark circles, his nose was strong, the short beard didn't look bad on him at all, and his jaw was as sharp as your knives. “Holy shit! He's handsome!” you thought.

“Wow…” you sighed, baffled.

“Don't say shite. It's just a physiological response. I'm a man, leave me alone.” Simon pushed your head back into his neck so you wouldn't look at him. Unconsciously, you settled into his lap to be more comfortable in the new position. He moaned under his breath and grabbed your hips tightly so you wouldn't move anymore. “Stay still, or it'll be worse for both of us.” He growled in your ear.

“Are you threatening me?” You arched a curious eyebrow, moving your hips forward to rebel against his grip.

“If you keep moving, you’re just going to make me cum in my pants. And, trust me, you don’t want that.” Ghost stifled a growl of pleasure.

“Don’t feel bad. It’s just a physiological response.” You used his words against him.

“Cum in my pants is just the beginning. Then I’m going to tease you until we fuck ‘til we’re exhausted. After that we won’t be able to stop until someone catches us because you’ll be screaming my name.” He promised you.

“And the bad part?” You asked with a certain mocking tone.

“I warned you.” Simon pulled you by the neck to face you.

Simon didn't want to waste any more time. He kissed you rough and suddenly, moving his calloused hands over your naked torso. He defined all your healed wounds with the tips of his fingers, reading your history in the military. Smiling when he touched one that reminded him of a mission you had had together. His lips danced slowly but roughly over yours. You tilted your head to one side to deepen the kiss.

If a year ago someone had told you that you would end up making out with your lieutenant in an empty warehouse at 3 in the morning, you would have punched them in the face. You weren't one of those who slept with their coworkers. It was unprofessional, and you knew you wouldn't get far with them. If you wanted to kill the heat, you preferred to masturbate in your bed than get involved with anyone. But Ghost… He was different. He treated you, touched you, talked to you like no one else. You envied his body, his skills, and his mind because he wanted them to be only yours, whether they could realistically be yours was another matter.

Simon growled against your lips every time you moved your hips on his erect cock under his pants. He had imagined the situation many times on those nights where he needed that release, but it was just that, his imagination. This was going far beyond the limits he always had with you, but it was so much better. He held you firmly by the ass to guide you where he wanted you to take him. He leaned you back a little to take one of your tits into his mouth. Slowly, thirstily, he moved his tongue around the areola to tempt you. He sucked on your nipple, taking possession of you and the little noises that escaped your lips.

Simon mentally sang the national anthem. He knew it wouldn't last long after a long hiatus of casual relationships that he only had for fun, since the vast majority of women he knew weren't interested in having a relationship with a guy they would almost never see. Just having you on top of him, he already felt himself cumming. The rhythm of your hips moving against the wet fabric was too addictive to hold out for long. He had held out for too long. If he was like this in this peculiar situation, he didn't want to imagine what it would be like if he had you in his bed, under him, having the whole night to yourself.

“You had it very hidden, lieutenant.” You gently bit his earlobe.

“This is nothing, doll.” He mumbled, almost annoyed at not holding out any longer.

You moaned incoherently and flatteringly in his ear. Your hand was in his wet hair so he wouldn't have the nerve to pull away so soon. Simon kissed, licked, bit every part of your body while his fat cock tempted your crotch, although you knew perfectly well that he wasn't going to give you more because Simon was silent, that meant he was focused, too busy, trying not to cum to hold out one more minute. He looked adorable with his cheeks embarrassed.

“Shit…” Finally, he took a breath as he let the thick, warm liquid spilled over his lap.

“5 minutes, not bad,” you teased him.

The rain had stopped and you had regained your body heat. You carefully separated yourself from him to get dressed again. Simon felt embarrassed, pathetic, not a man. He reached for his balaclava to hide his embarrassment, but was surprised when you snatched it from his hands. You wrung out the fabric like you had done with your shirt and put it on, struggling to place it correctly over your eyes. A smile escaped his lips when he saw you wearing it, it was the closest thing to you putting on his clothes.

“We should go back before everyone wakes up,” you advised him before offering him your hand to help him up.

Ghost was a damn soldier who could do anything he set his mind to, on the other hand, Simon… he only survives as he can. The mask helped him become that man he always wants to be. A giant facade to hide that he was actually smaller than they thought. And there you were, the first to see through his brick wall and still act like nothing happened. Was he terrified that you would know the truth? Of course, but he trusted you. He didn’t know if this experience made you anything more than coworkers or friends, but it seemed time would tell.

“You’re right, I’m tired.” Finally, he took your hand to go back the way they had come.

Masterlist.

Next 🡪

Thanks for reading! <3

[revehae]

marionette (r. fantasies)

warnings: smut, noncon, choking, forced relationship

wc. 765

anton doesn’t sense the fear and urgency chilling your bones to the point where you all but sweat yourself.

you wish he would. but he doesn’t. and if he does, he doesn’t comment on it. as if even he knows better than to go against your boyfriend. 

if you can even call him that. sungchan is not your boyfriend. that is what he tells the world, but if it was up to you, you would not be forcing a smile as you stand to his side with his arm draped over your shoulders as he looks at you almost affectionately. 

almost.

but anton does notice the red mark on sungchan’s forearm as it dangles over you. when asked about it, sungchan responds, “oh, it’s nothing. i was exercising too hard.”

you almost bristle in anger at the lie, but the memory of what really happened flickers in your head and you stiffen in something much closer to fear. though only for a fraction of a second, because you dread what will happen if one of sungchan’s friends become suspicious.

they can never know the truth, even if it haunts you. even if your body still aches with the memory. sungchan’s weight on top of you, ignoring your defiance, the way you told him you didn’t want it and begged him to spare you just this once. 

he didn’t. you are starting to think that remorse is something jung sungchan is simply not capable of. 

“can you at least slow down?” you choked out, aching for mercy. 

your eyes were misty, a bright glare in them from the shiny, hot tears that burn your eyes routinely. it was too much for you; it always is. the constant, creaking motion of the weary bed beneath you was a testament to the vigor of which he pounded into you, as if he was using every bit of his strength simply because he could.

you wouldn’t have been surprised. sungchan is flashy like that. it’s there in the way he flaunts his bulging arms and toned abs online after working out, the way he drives his obnoxiously loud, fast cars, the way he only sports the most extravagant clothes, and in the way he always shows you off.

sungchan ignored your cries, having gotten used to tuning them out. it was like second nature to him. “take it,” he hissed, big hands clamping down onto your thighs with enough force to bruise your already sore skin as he kept them spread. 

you whimpered, legs pushed beyond what was comfortable, but you knew better than to move. you clung to his forearms, not to draw him closer, but to desperately attempt to anchor yourself. holding him tight, your fingers scraped his skin, making his face twist in a wince.

“god, you bitch,” sungchan snapped, jerking his hand away from your thigh and repositioning it around your throat. he watched your eyes widen, your fingers flying up to meet his. “you’ll have to be dead to stay fucking still for me, is that it?”

your body went rigid for a moment. your heart was hammering. shaking your head the best you could, you tried to whisper a weak, “no,” but the sound came out as a faint squeak with the same quietness as a broken toy. your throat bobbed as you tried to breathe, hands uselessly prying at the ones around your neck.

but his grip didn’t slack. instead, you noticed his fingers clamping down onto your windpipe, sucking the life out of you like a noose. sungchan stared into your eyes silently as he pushed you further and further, forcing the breath out of you second by second, and for a moment you were convinced he would actually do it. 

maybe sungchan was, too. the intensity of his eyes locked on yours, no soul in them, no empathy, was more paralyzing than his grip on its own. but ultimately, he slackened his hold, tugging at your hair, and leaned low as he threatened, “then, you better fucking listen.”

the feeling of sungchan’s hand slipping down to your waist jolts you out of the cold memory.

you fidget with the black turtleneck you’re sporting as you force yourself to lean closer into sungchan’s side and throw anton a forced smile as you reply, “yeah, you know how he gets. always on grind mode when he hits the gym.”

because in spite of what sungchan does to you now, if anyone ever finds out about who he is when the two of you are alone, he will be a billion times worse.

[unknownati]

Hello! I hope you're doing well :3

Can I get something about Ekko (headcanons, short scenario... you choose the format) with a s/o with chronic migraines? I absolutely love how you write him!! And it would be very special for me, considering that this topic is not talked about enough.

Thank you so much for your contribution to the fandom! ily byee

vi. ekko x gn!reader w/chronic migraines (hcs)

a/n: twin. I GOTCHU 😭🤝 and tysm!

i'm sorry if this isn't up to your expectations, i tried to do extra research on it (i was on r/migraine and like 3 different medical sites for a WHILE.) to make sure i repped u the best i could! please lmk if there's any inaccuracies :(

from what i read, most people's experiences were pretty similar so i tried to keep it in that middle ground.

warnings/tags: fluffy fluffy fluff, lowercase intended, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, descriptions of pain, reader gets insecure at the end (w/ comfort!), just ekko taking care of u like the gentleman he is really, i need this man

_____________________________________________

-ekko didn't quite know how to handle it when you first started getting close.

-you could tell he cared, constantly glancing over at you with worried eyes every time you rubbed your temples and took deep breaths. his hand would rest on your shoulder, and even though you brushed it off, he knew it sucked.

-you somehow managed to keep it pretty low-key until you two started dating.

-the first time he really got a glimpse into it was during a baaad week after you started dating.

-"doin' okay?" he'd murmur, kneeling down next to your duvet shielded figure. all you do is groan, sticking your hand out to find his, interlocking fingers with him.

"yeah, i guessed. brought you some meds, maybe it'll help make you feel a bit better."

he knew he was doing something right when you squeezed his hand and whispered "thank you."

it was the most grateful he's ever heard anyone sound for anything.

and even though those pain meds didn't do the best job in the world, it's the thought that counts!

-afterward, he started with peeking to see what meds you take, constantly keeping them restocked for you. he thinks you don't know he's the one sneaking them into your bag, your cabinet, on your nightstand, etc. you know. there's only one person in your life who you know would leave spray paint stains on the little bottles.

-he'd make sure to keep areas he knows you mainly hung around much dimmer. buys you blackout curtains and figures out how to make controlled light bulbs for you that can be dimmer or brighter as you needed.

-he carries a shocking amount of stuff on him. boom, canteen of water! boom, snacks! boom, painkillers! woah, what's that? ICE PACK! check behind your ears? holy shit it's a heating pad.

-one thing though; as much as he cares for you, he won't baby you. he knows just how capable you are of doing things...he will, however, give you major royal treatment. you will be getting that shoulder massage 🙏🏾

-during days where your migraines are less brutal, he just keeps an eye out for you. makes sure stay hydrated and well fed.

-he does your chores for you during those extended periods, tearing his gloves off to stick his hands into your pile of dishes and clean them up for you. when you shuffle downstairs later in the day to put a cup in there, you find a small little note in front of your now cleared sink.

'hope i could lighten your load (get it) ♡ - e'

-and it was such a stupid joke that almost didn't make sense but you'd be lying if you said you didn't smile wide as fuck when you read it.

-during the extended periods of your migraine attacks, when you're just in bed, he brings you literally anything and everything.

-when you wake up from a nap you can almost always find him cuddled close to you, drool pooling into your pillow.

-and he does not mind leaving where you are just for you to go get some peace and quiet.

-it hits you like a train when you're out with him and a few of his friends. the stinging, pulsing cluster of pain forming behind your eye made you groan. "fuck, baby 'm sorry my head is just...killing me."

"hey guys, we're gonna head out, okay?"

"what? no, you don't have to leave, i can just—"

he flashes you what is the most loving glare you've ever seen and just gets up, ushering you along with him. silence fills the walk back between the lanes, gravel and wrappers crunching beneath your boots.

"i'm sorry." you murmur, smoothing your fingers across the arch of your brow. the way he looks at you when the words leave your mouth made you think he was offended by them.

"why are you apologizing?"

"i just...don't want you to always have to stop enjoying yourself just for me."

"nah, don't say that. it doesn't bother me. plus, it means i get to go home and chill out with you more often, i'm fine with that."

"yeah, but what if i'm just too much? what if you get sick of...doing all this?"

he scoffs, pulling his glove off and stopping you from walking so he can raise your chin, looking at you with eyes so determined but so gentle. his thumb swipes between your brows, making you relax them. "you're never gonna be too much for me. and i won't. ever."

-and trust me.

-he doesn't.

[disciplined-cornfed]

Rome wasn't built in a day

Alex had never expected his college life to take this kind of turn. He’d moved to New York for school, planning to live on campus like most students, but when he found a better deal on an off-campus apartment that financial aid would cover, he jumped on it. The apartment was in a decent neighborhood, close to the subway, and the landlord didn’t ask too many questions. Seemed like a win.

What he hadn’t planned on, though, was Frank—his new roommate.

Frank was… something else. The guy was like a time capsule from a decade ago, straight out of Jersey Shore. From the gelled-back hair, the deep tan, ridiculous yelling at football and ufc matches every weekend, the flashy chains, to the relentless love of tank tops and gold watches. Alex wasn’t sure if Frank was for real or if this was just an elaborate, extended joke.

But here’s the thing: despite his douchey exterior, Frank was actually a pretty nice guy. Sure, he blasted club music at ungodly hours and flexed in the mirror every time he passed it, but Frank was always chill. He’d offer Alex food whenever he cooked, made sure the apartment was clean, and always gave him a heads-up when he had people over. Plus, Frank clearly knew what he was doing in the gym. The guy was shredded, and Alex had to admit, Frank’s discipline when it came to his diet and workout routine was impressive.

It didn’t take long before Alex’s curiosity got the best of him.

One day, after weeks of seeing Frank pound protein shakes and head to the gym religiously, Alex asked him for some advice. He had always been a casual gym-goer, but seeing Frank’s dedication made him wonder if he could up his own game.

“Yo, Frank,” Alex said one afternoon as they sat in the living room. “What do you usually eat for those gains, man? And how do you stay so consistent?”

Frank grinned, pausing the DJ Pauly D remix playing on his speakers. “Bro, it’s all about focus foods and the right lifts. Stick to lean meats, eggs, beans, lots of veggies. And you gotta hit the weights hard. No shortcuts.”

Alex nodded, scribbling down some notes on his phone. “Got any recommendations? Like content or something I can watch?”

Frank’s grin grew wider. “Oh, for sure. I’ll send you some stuff. There’s Dom Mazzetti, Vinny Guadagnino—some good shit, bro. But hey, I’ll send you my playlist too. Got a WAV file I use at the gym that keeps me hyped.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “A playlist?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank said, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s got some fire tracks. Also, I threw in some personal affirmations underneath it, helps me stay focused during my lifts. You probably won’t even notice them, but they help, bro. Trust me.”

Alex wasn’t really buying into the whole “subliminal affirmation” thing. It sounded like some weird self-help nonsense. But Frank was shredded, and if these little tricks worked for him, maybe they were worth a shot.

Later that evening, Alex plugged in his headphones and hit play on Frank’s WAV file. It started with “Lucky, Lucky, Lucky Me���—a male cover that felt oddly calming. The song transitioned into upbeat remixes like “Fireball” and other club tracks that seemed to pump adrenaline into his veins. Somewhere in between, Sinatra’s smooth voice made an appearance, bringing a strange, nostalgic energy to the mix.

As the playlist played, Alex caught faint whispers beneath the music—barely noticeable. “You love the gym. You crave the weights. Tanning makes you feel amazing. You rep the Italian pride with every lift.”

He chuckled to himself. This subliminal shit can’t be real, he thought. But, whatever—Frank swears by it.

The playlist ended with “Lucky, Lucky Me” again, and as Alex dozed off that night, the tune echoed faintly in his head.

The changes didn’t happen overnight, but as the days went by, Alex began to notice subtle differences. It started with his workouts. He’d always been someone who worked out occasionally, but now there was something different. One morning, as he walked past the gym on his way to class, he felt an urge—a need to lift. It wasn’t just about getting in shape anymore. Something about the weights called to him, pulling him in.

He ended up inside, grabbing a set of dumbbells and diving into a full workout. By the time he finished, he was drenched in sweat, but instead of feeling exhausted, he felt exhilarated. There was a rush—an energy that coursed through him, leaving him wanting more.

From that point on, the gym became part of his daily routine. At first, he didn’t even realize it was happening. He started following Frank’s tips—lifting heavier, focusing on compound movements, and pushing himself harder with each session. His muscles responded quickly, growing faster than they ever had before. His shirts started to fit tighter, hugging his chest and arms in ways they never had before. Every time he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t help but flex, admiring his progress.

It wasn’t just the gym either. One afternoon, Alex caught himself in front of the bathroom mirror, noticing how pale his skin looked under the fluorescent lights. Without thinking much of it, he booked an appointment at the tanning salon down the street. After his first session, he looked at himself in the mirror, marveling at the golden glow on his skin. It made him feel good, confident—like he was stepping into a new version of himself.

Tanning became part of his routine, just like the gym. He started looking forward to that golden glow, the way it made his muscles stand out more, and how it just felt right.

One weekend, Alex found himself wandering into a clothing store, drawn to a section of tank tops with bold prints—Italian flags, American flags, vibrant colors that screamed confidence. He picked up a few without thinking twice, the fabric feeling perfect against his newly defined arms. When he got home and slipped into one of the tanks, he stood in front of the mirror, flexing his biceps. The tank hugged his body in all the right places, and as he admired his reflection, a grin spread across his face.

Damn, I look good.

It wasn’t just the clothes that made him feel this way—it was the pride, the feeling of representing his heritage with every lift, every flex. It felt right.

The most surprising change came with his voice. At first, it was barely noticeable—a slight shift in his accent, a few new words slipping into his vocabulary. But as the weeks went on, the transformation in his speech became undeniable. His voice took on a thicker Jersey inflection, and words like “bro” and “yo” started slipping out naturally, almost without him realizing it. He spoke with more confidence, more swagger, his words carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before.

He even noticed how loud he’d become, but it wasn’t obnoxious—it felt like he was owning the room. His friends started to comment on it, but Alex didn’t mind. It felt like the way he was supposed to talk, like his voice was finally matching the rest of his transformation.

One night, Alex found himself scrolling through YouTube, where he came across a Dom Mazzetti video. He clicked on it, expecting to laugh at the over-the-top persona, but something else happened. As Dom joked about gym culture, diet, and lifting, Alex found himself nodding along, relating to the lifestyle. The gym wasn’t just a place to work out anymore—it was part of who he was becoming.

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Alex’s days revolved around the gym, tanning, and repping his heritage with pride. He found himself following more content creators who embodied the same mindset—guys who lived for the grind, the lifts, and the pride in who they were.

His roommate Frank noticed the changes, too. “Bro, you’re looking jacked,” Frank said one afternoon as Alex flexed in the mirror before heading out to the gym. “You flexing the gains hard now.”

Alex grinned, running a hand through his hair, which he’d started gelling back every morning. “Yeah, man. It just feels right, you know?”

Frank clapped him on the shoulder, a proud smirk on his face. “Told ya. Once you get in the groove, there’s no going back. You’re one of us now, bro. Tanning, lifting, and heritage. Welcome to the crew.”

Alex chuckled, feeling Frank’s words sink in. Wasn’t just about the workouts or the diet no more. It was the whole package—the attitude, the pride, the way he carried himself. He’d become confident, bold, and unapologetic. The gym had become his temple, and every flex in the mirror, every perfectly tanned muscle, reminded him of how far he’d come.

He spoke with more confidence now, his voice carrying a thick Jersey accent that seemed to come naturally. Words like “bro” and “yo” slipped out effortlessly, and he found himself embracing the louder, more assertive side of himself. Even his walk had changed—there was more swagger, more presence.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later, Alex and Frank were sitting in the living room, scrolling through profiles of potential new roommates. Their lease was ending soon, and they needed to find someone to fill the third room. Frank leaned back in his chair, sipping a protein shake as he swiped through a list of candidates.

“Yo, check this one out,” Alex said, pausing on a profile. “Marco Ricci. Italian last name.”

Frank raised an eyebrow and leaned in, studying the screen. “Oh shit, an Italian? That’s promising.”

They opened Marco’s profile, but instead of seeing someone flexing or rocking a tan, Marco looked... pretty regular. He wasn’t out of shape, but he wasn’t exactly lifting heavy either. Pale, with a pretty average physique, he was the kind of guy who didn’t seem to spend much time at the gym. His shirt was plain, and his expression, while friendly, was far from the confident swagger Alex and Frank had come to expect in their circle.

Alex chuckled, nudging Frank. “Dude’s kinda pasty, huh?”

Frank smirked. “Yeah, bro. Definitely needs some work. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know? He’s got the Italian blood—that’s what counts. We can mold him.”

Alex nodded, his mind already racing. Marco might not be there yet, but with the right guidance, who knows? The guy had potential. He just needed some direction.

“Yeah,” Alex said, swiping right on Marco’s profile. “We’ll get him there. If he’s down to move in, I have the perfect playlist in mind."

Frank chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “Bro, he won’t know what hit him.”

Alex grinned, flexing in the mirror nearby. “Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day, right?”

Frank laughed again, raising his protein shake in a mock toast. “Damn straight, bro."

WANNA BECOME A GUIDO FOR REAL? Try this subliminal:

Guido Subliminal (Accent, Mindset, Discipline, Extreme Confidence)

[diabolicalevil]

Hi! Do you have any headcanons for how everything would go down if the Primarchs somehow ended up in arranged marriages and how they’d subsequently deal with everything?

Primarchs in an arranged marriage that's not to you

gn!reader

HI ANON!!!! fun req I like this, very sorry it took me so long to get around to it T-T

Warnings: None

Lion El'johnson: perhaps this is being mean to him, but as soon as you found out you knew it was arranged. aside from you he gets zero play on account of his horrible attitude. it's not uncommon to arrange a marriage on caliban, it's a death world and continuing your lineage through adoption, birth or even in name only isn't unheard of. despite this you trust him to leave the engagement with little thought on the matter and he's shocked by that, maybe in both a positive or negative way. it's frightening to have someone trust you completely but he's glad it was you.

Fulgrim: the MOST used to political marriages. as long as you're okay with him being married to someone else legally everything is fine, cause he's gonna take you as a consort or a second spouse if he hasn't already, like who's gonna stop him? that being said, if you aren't and you aren't of high enough standing to switch partners it's a surprisingly difficult choice for him. he wants perfection he wants this perfect alliance but he wants you as well. I think ultimately he would go through some loops and take the hit to his rep but it would take a nail bitingly long time for him to come to that decision.

Perturabo: sorry to whoever is engaged to him LOL. they are probably working with you to get them out of this marriage take ur freak back right now.

Jaghatai Khan: girl u gotta catch him first. no but seriously I doubt he'd want to be married at all, perhaps in name only if it made you feel better but the concept of being locked down and the expectations of family that come with that (in both straight and queer relationships) is kind of the antithesis to his whole philosophy. he wouldn't do it not in a bajillion years for any reason.

Leman Russ: affronted by the concept that someone would force him into a relationship with someone he didn't choose. its like a personal slight to him.

Rogal Dorn: hes so conflicted, he sees the marriage as his duty and something that would be for the best but he also doesn't want to. like at all. he knows if he asks his legion they'll tell him to do what is most practical, logical, whatever you wanna call it. so he asks faggot I mean fulgrim and ofc he's like "follow ur heart :) live ur truthh ;))" to which rogal dorn says "excellent argument!" and makes up bullshit to call it off.

Konrad Curze: whoever is agreeing to an arranged marriage is attempting to Assassinate him.

Sanguinius: He is endlessly frustrated by people's needs to stretch and mould him into something he isn't and doesn't want to be and this is the biggest embodiment of that. he doesn't hold any real ill will to his betrothed but he will go to whatever extreme is necessary, be it politicking or assassination, to get them out. though it is partially about you it is also majorly about him exerting his own agency. which is weird to think that 10ft winged creature man has no agency but alas.

Ferrus Manus: what are the odds he's betrothed to a machine and their baby is a cyborg. what are the odds of the admech doing that to him. I see it going one of two ways, either he's frustratingly complacent either the ordeal despite how much it hurts both of you (whether he actually does anything to stop it is up to whether or not you or fulgrim force him) OR right out of the gate he's feeling #murderous that someone is handing him of all people orders when he's fought so hard to have you so far.

Angron: Jesus Christ. For all involved. he's going to kill them and maybe you if you get involved, just wait it out.

Roboute Guilliman: a contender for the second most used to political marriages. I don't believe there's a legal loophole in existence he can't exploit to get out of that engagement. and he's SO apologetic as if he actually cheated. if you wanted to manipulate him into giving you a planet all to yourself now is the time.

Mortarion: sorry the idea of him being coerced into a political marriage cannot form in my mind. like it's humorous to imagine for any of these guys but him especially. but I'll play along. regardless of the fact he shot it down immediately he still gets a little whiny, wondering if you would even care if he left, if you would leave etc. he's so annoying ❤️

Magnus: whatever he's getting out of this has got to be EXTREMELY good. like so good if it were me in that position I would concede and let him be married for however long like he'll figure it out. if there's not much in it for him I think he'd, uh, alter the fabric of the universe so that whatever was coercing him into it just goes away.

Horus Lupercal: other contender for the second most used to political marriages except usually he's setting himself up. but not this time! which make things trickier but not by that much. he can get out of it easily but justifying a marriage or staying in a relationship that has no political gain is hard for him specifically but he's probably built up enough good will.

Lorgar Aurelian: religious figures famously do not marry but leaders who are religious are expected to marry so I'm looking at it from the perspective of he, as their leader, is expected to follow doctrine and set an example of a moral leader. so in that case I don't feel like it'd be hard to switch the chosen fiance out for you, as long as you appeared to meet the holy criteria. though this would bring scrutiny, probably. lorgar is of course repenting to you and god in a corner for the crime of infidelity even though he didn't even want to do that fr.

Vulkan: extremely apologetic, while the other primarchs handle it by themselves to spare you the pain or bcs it's a personal thing he brings you along every step of the annulment, half to shove it in their face that he's with someone half to be like "see. see. see. I do not want this please don't think I want this."

Corvus Corax: another one who's biggest gripe is the utter lack of agency, before the papers are even filed theyre all mysteriously dead and nobody ever thinks abt it again.

Alpharius & Omegon: I dunno man, just marry the other one lmao.

I heart fantasy romance manhwa so this was entertaining for me though the concept was a little hard for me to do just cause it's silly for me 2 think abt lol

[saksukei]

simon ‘ghost’ riley and his love languages

masterlist | i think i may have wrote too much??

there’s one thing lieutenant simon ghost riley knew when he began dating you. he had to be the best version of himself or at least try. you were the only person he met that he ever wanted to try for.

i. words of affirmation

initially, simon has trouble adjusting to calling you any pet names and just calls you by your name. it isn’t until he gets comfortable enough to say, “love” which is his go to nickname. he says them only in private though.

and then it’s nicknames galore. he calls you his sunshine because he literally adores your smile so much!!! the type to say, “i brought flowers for you. they needed sunshine and you were the obvious choice.” and he also says things like, “my darling angel” when you get him a cup of tea.

most importantly, if you ever do something that’s like daunting or difficult for you or if you learn something he’s gonna say “that’s my girl, always so intelligent.” if the two of you ever hit the gym together and you hit more reps than your regular ones, he’s gonna be so happy for you. “atta girl,” he kisses your cheek as he pats your back.

ii. gifts

he wasn’t very heavy on gift giving. that was until he saw something that he knew you’d like and bought it. and the smile that graced your face with the stars in your eyes made him want to do it more often.

and he felt his heart jump when he saw you cherish the letters he’d written when he was deployed. ever since then, he’s been leaving cute little notes for you, making handmade things you’d like such as bracelets, necklaces. he knows how to sew and he sewed a cute little shirt for you. this also brings me to the fact that he likes knitting a lot and loves making mug warmers? it’s endearing really. he can also carve wood apparently? so he makes sweet little decoration pieces for your apartment. (but also lumber jack simon making me insane)

all in all, he loves giving gifts. he’s the type to make a special notebook for just you and put pressed flowers on each page. “got you something you liked, darling.”

iii. acts of service

simon’s strongest way of expressing love is through acts of service. he’s a military man and a firm believer of ‘actions speak louder than words.’ i’ve said it before that his eye for detail is insane and he uses it in the relationship as well. alongside with his ability to literally commit you to memory, he remembers everything. (except birthdays, but he’ll remember yours).

from bending down to tie your shoelaces, to refilling snacks that he knows you like, to picking up heavy stuff, to guiding you with a hand on your waist, everything really!!! can read your facial expressions like it’s the only thing he knows and can immediately figured out what you like and don’t like. “you okay?”

and god, he's also aware of the sidewalk rule! never lets you walk on the outer side. the type to place a hand on corners and edges so that you don’t get hurt. he’s always looking out for you, ensuring you don't have anything in your way. he’ll always stand behind you because he feels it gives him a better chance to protect you.

iv. quality time

such a sucker for spending time with you but that’s mainly because he knows his is limited. and he would never risk not spending another minute with you. from watching movies, to watching you do make up in front of the vanity, to reading books together, training together, having tea. he finds your presence alone to be comforting. it's like you deal with all of his inner thoughts and reservations without even knowing it.

he also enjoyed doing mundane domestic tasks with you like getting groceries, setting up ikea furniture, cooking and cleaning together, honestly he loves it all. especially if there’s some jazz music playing in the background. i can absolutely imagine rubbing a little flour on simon’s face and he’ll get so offended, chasing you around the entire house, pining you down, just to do the same to you.

v. physical touch

simon is hesitant to become physically affectionate. that's not to say that he doesn’t enjoy it, it's just that when you’ve been met with violence all your life, gentleness is hardly something you expect.

but god, did he want to melt into a puddle when you held his hand or when you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. he swears he forgot how to breathe. and little by little, he got comfortable. hands hesitant to be on your waist, until that's the only place you found them, his head always nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “this might just be the favorite part of my day,” he says softly.

from lacing fingers, to kissing you the first thing in the morning, once simon’s comfortable, he won’t go a day without being intimate. “c’mere give me a kiss” to “you’re my good luck charm, love.”

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hi, I'm new here and I've been reading some of your fics lately and I think are really good.

I had an idea in my head, something about the reader and Regina, now that we are in October, you know, Halloween

I imagine a reader somewhat bigger and taller than Regina, muscular maybe?, dressing up with her girlfriend as Ares and Aphrodite, for a party, it's a bit silly, but I think Regina would fit the role of Aphrodite well.

(English is not my first language, sorry if there is any mistake)

Ares and Aphrodite

|| Regina George x fem!reader

|| Warnings; swearing, hook up hints, make out session mentions, jealous Regina, Ms George being... well, Ms George

|| Summary; reader insists that Regina and her go as Aphrodite and Ares; somehow she convinces her and takes her costume shopping. Among other activities.

Requests open!

Started; october 12th

Finished; october 13th

~~~

"Regina!!" You ran over to your girlfriend, who had been sitting with her friends in the cafeteria. A massive grin on your face that she knew could only spell trouble.

"What is it, baby?" She asked, almost reluctantly as she shifted her gaze from Gretchen to you. Letting you settle yourself in her lap as her hand came to your hip.

"I figured out what we could do for Halloween this year!" You were absolutely excited, practically bouncing in her lap which she didn't mind. Though she did mind the thought of doing some embarrassing Halloween couples costume.

"Better be good." She warned you, you were too giddy to care if she was annoyed with you.

"Ares and Aphrodite!" You exclaimed, Gretchen gasped and nodded.

"Oh my God that's like tots perfect for you two!" She agreed, you looked at her and smiled.

"I know!"

"Oh absolutely not," Regina scoffed and rolled her eyes, knowing you would pick a cheesy option. She should have just decided on one instead of caving in and letting you pick; but you looked so excited and for once she couldn't say no. Until she heard your idea.

"Please?" You gave her your classic puppy dog eyes and pout," you could be Aphrodite~"

That seemed to get her attention and she sighed," fine." She was cursing her soft spot for you. Because only you could get her to agree to something so stupid.

That night, you and her went costume shopping. Going to your local Spirit Halloween and looking to see if they had what you wanted. Sure enough, they did. You grinned at Regina as you held up the two costume bags for the Greek Gods.

"Regina~" You smirked and she rolled her eyes, already done with you and this couples costume.

"I hate this." She grumbled and you pouted, wrapping an arm around her.

"Hey, come on! It'll be great and it's the last idea I have because you said no to literally everything else I suggested." That made her roll her eyes and give you a soft glare. You held out the Aphrodite bag to her," go try it on."

Reluctantly, Regina took the bag and you went to go try on the Ares costume while she the Aphrodite one. Honestly you were fine being Ares, he gets a lot of bad rep in media but in mythology he's a pretty good guy (and Dad) for the most part. Plus, you were muscular. So you had that front covered.

The two of you finished getting your costumes on around the same time, though Regina was done just a little before you. She looked you up and down, thinking that you did look pretty good in the Ares fit. The way it showed the muscles in your upper arms... she didn't bother looking away as she let out a low whistle.

You rolled your eyes and blushed at the way she was behaving; though you couldn't say anything because you couldn't take your own eyes off her.

"See, I knew you'd look hot." You smirked at her and she flips you off, but comes over and kisses you. Her hands cupping at your jawline as she pulls you even closer. Getting a small moan out of you as you kissed her back.

"Fuck, Gina. We're in public." You murmured against her lips, looking at her with lidded bedrooms eyes. She mirrored your gaze.

"So? Don't be a loser, come here." Her nails practically dug into your wrist as she gripped your arm and dragged you. Taking you into the closest changing room.

You could say she... helped you get out of your costume. Isn't that nice of her?

The next couple weeks seemed to go by just like that; you were beyond excited for Halloween. This was your absolute favourite time of year and your family always went all out with crazy decorations. This year though, you were going to a house party with Regina. Which you didn't mind at all, you'd gone to a few with her and the plastics anyways.

You were about to leave Regina's house when her mom called the two of you over; gasping as she saw your costumes.

"You two look adorable!! Let me get some pictures," Regina's mom smiled, taking out her phone. Though her ask for pictures seemed more like a demand...

Regina seemed reluctant and pulled you closer, knowing that you were the only thing that could make this bearable." Just make it quick, mom. You're gonna make us late."

It wasn't quick. You were late. She wanted like a million pictures of the two of you, even taking one where you're holding the blonde in your arms. And ones where you and Regina were kissing, then one holding hands... this dragged on. After what- forty photos? Something stupid like that. She ALSO started taking some pictures of you and her.

"Y/N, can you pick me up? I think it would look great," She grinned at you. You cringed a little and glanced at Regina, who seemed furious at that point. Her temper was already wearing thin with the extensive photoshoot but now her mom wanted you to pick her up?

"Oh hell no." Regina said flatly, grabbing your wrist and yanking you flush against her. She knew the kind of innocent games her mom liked to play with anyone she considered hot." Y/N, we're leaving." Her decision was final, not even listening to her mom's protests as she dragged you to her jeep. Where she had a fierce make out session with you before going to the party. The make outs definitely didn't stop at the jeep though. You knew this tended to happen when Regina got jealous and you definitely weren't about to complain. The two of you had a pretty amazing night.

[slutfor-fictionalmen]

Gym date(???)

(Hi my loves! A lot has changed in my life I've been kinda busy but that doesn't mean I ever forgot about you!)

Your palms felt sweaty, you knew it was just nerves but you couldn't help but suffer from the physicalities of anxiety as much as you try to calm your mind. Every jingle of the front door has your head whipping toward the entrance of the gym despite knowing that your gym partner won’t arrive for a few more minutes.

Thoughts of Tsuki messing up your reps, making you lose your rhythm in jogging, you couldn't help but wonder if he'd finally backed out from your agreement to train together, maybe he found it weird to train with a girl, or maybe he finally saw the differences in your goals, both life and work out wise not worth the trouble of incorporating both, maybe...

"Hey Y/n!" you jumped, visibly shaken from your thoughts," sorry to keep you waiting, some douche parked in the last front spot, speaking of which I may need you to drop me off at my car I parked a bit far out." He smiled and looked down, unpacking his water and mumbling about forgetting his towel. He set his bag aside and sighed.

"So what did I miss out on, today's cardio right? I hope you know I only do this for you, it makes me realize how bad my stamina is." You let out a laugh pushing him a bit before you finish the last of your stretch for a run.

"What a lucky girl I am, but it's only fair, I get cardio you get your weights." His smile infects your mood the more you speak to him, it makes it almost like your minute of doubt never even happened.

"blah blah blah, whatever you say beautiful. You're just jealous that I can lift more than you," you can't take him seriously even as your lips form a straight line. He gives you a shit-eating grin and sets his speed higher to run. You wonder why you had to fall for such a dork.

His eyes never left your form as you started a jog, how your strides look effortless, how your head nods to the music in the playlist you shared with him, how your brow furrows when you near the end of a sprint, how your thighs move as you run and your body looks as soft as he knows it would be under his fingers if you just let him hold you. He has to pry his eyes off your plush form, opting to look at the ceiling or stare at the monitor, pleading for the tightness in his workout shorts to subside. He always forgets to find better pants for your cardio days, only remembering when he sees the curve of your ass in your leggings or the tops you wear and how his imagination runs wild thinking of how beautiful you are under your clothes, or how you’d look under him. Even on top, he’s not a picky man.

You felt sweat on your forehead, unconcerned by the other parts of your body that desperately need to be aired out, forcing yourself to slow down and drink more water. You glance over at your partner, thanking whatever god is out there for him forgetting his towel while he lifts his shirt to wipe his brow giving you a nosebleed of a show. (cheesy)

He barely talks about his past, only mentions of volleyball and scholarships here and there, you got to meet one of his old teammates one time! Though he blocked you out of view and barely let you speak to him the whole time. You thought maybe he was ashamed of being your workout partner or even hanging out with you. Unbeknownst to you, you were just Hinata’s type, he thinks about that day, he’s never heard the end of it, Hinata still pestering him for your number, your Instagram, anything. 

“Please man you don’t know, it was love at first sight, y-” 

“You didn’t even get a full look at her,” Tsukishima crosses his arms, blankly staring at his friend, “Final answer is no. The same as last time, and the time before.”

“You didn’t even let me look at her! Are you in love with her or something? I mean dude if you’re just trying to hit it there are so many easier ways, you know Tinder exists right?”

Tsukishima sighs and takes off his glasses rubbing his nose bridge in frustration, “Yes I’m aware Tinder exists. Just back off, maybe you should take your own advice so many easier ways to hit it right? Maybe get Tinder for yourself.” His much shorter friend throws his hands up in exasperation, walking away and mumbling about him keeping all the hot ones to himself. 

Tsukishima puts his glasses back on, glad that the conversation is over for now, he’s aware he needs to own his feelings, in fact, he was late to your gym date(?) due to his internal battle.  He never took into consideration your feelings, it’s unfathomable you’d like him like that, you’re too sweet and likable, nothing like him, way out of his league, but he has big goals, and an even bigger yearning to call you his.

 You don’t know a lot about his personal life, you’ve barely managed to get him to be friendly with you, and you’re still trying to bring him out of his shell, and gain his trust no matter how slow or tedious it is. 

Besides all of this, you do know he has a tattoo on his hip, you always meant to ask but thought it too weird after all, he never showed you on purpose right? I mean he surely didn’t expect you to ogle his body, you didn't expect it either, always being respectful of others boundaries and making a point to make everyone feel welcome. With him it’s different, you have the same attitude but you catch yourself staring… a lot. In a very flustered daze, you quickly avert your eyes ignoring your shameless staring at your gym partner. You’re too stubborn to admit feelings no matter how many times you tell yourself you’re just friends, but friends don’t long for each other the way you do.

He looks over at you, slowing his speed, you’ve been jogging for a bit now, completely zoned out. He waves his hand in front of your face, knocking you out of a daze, you move your headphones so you can hear him out of one ear and slow down to a speed walk.

“Do you wanna cut the workout early?” You give him a confused look, turning your speed down to a slow walk. 

“Why Tsuki?” You’re trying to catch your breath, lungs catching up after your unexpected stamina. 

“I, uh, well I just thought maybe you'd wanna get lunch, or hang out, I have a free day and we normally just see each other for the gym, I thought maybe we could cut the workout short and spend more time together?” He shut his mouth, becoming embarrassed he looks away knowing he was about to start rambling. It was just your tone, your chest heaving while you look at him with such admiration. It’s too much, making him once again reach with his shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow, this time, to hide his blush. He clears his throat trying to shake it off. “That sound ok?”

Your headphones are completely off by now, giving your full undivided attention to this man you shake yourself out of a trance by ending your workout and smiling at him, “Absolutely yeah! Can I just shower at my place though? I left all my stuff there.”  

“Yeah, but I'll just shower here.” He smiles quickly and moves to pick up his duffle, but before he can even fully hop off the machine you're right in front of him, your bag slung over your shoulder.

“Or! You can maybe shower at my place if you want? You totally don't have to but I have a pretty tall shower head and you’re pretty tall and maybe you want to be comfortable, it’s quicker and easier but you can totally say no!” His stare pierces your skin hey you're rambling again his soft touch knocks you out of a nerve-induced daze

 ”… I wouldn't mind showering there I like your soap better anyways. You always smell good.” his smile calms your nerves, “Ok! If you’re absolutely sure, I’ll text you my address and meet you there!” 

You beam at him, your energy buzzing, whether from the pre-workout you took before this or the pure excitement you couldn't pin down. His gaze stays on you as you wave and he watches you walk to your car. 

His palms are sweaty and not from working out.

He has a date.

A date with you to be exact.

TO BE CONTINUED

(Please let me know what you think, This is kinda a blurb and definitely a part one, the other part has smut ofc lol)