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angelfrombeneth · 9 months ago

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PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT, RIGHT? - N . CHAVEZ

Mature Content Ahead

Nicholas Chavez x F!Actress Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Summary: You and Nicholas are costars in a new show - Grotesqueire. When it is time to film a sex scene, you aren't ready; awkward tension takes over, but you know what they say; Practice makes perfect.

Note: I just want to say thank you so much for 1k followers and I hope you enjoy this one - and if you are new here, check out my other works. I have new stuff coming, feel free to request in my inbox for a specific character.

If you are looking for a part 2, please read this post as it explains my reasonings behind not making a part 2.

The filming for Grotesqueire has been underway for a few weeks now, this is your first big role in any media which you are extremely excited for. The show has an extremely interesting script, which is one of the reasons you wanted to put your all into your audition - which got you here.

"Y/N, I need you on set B in 5 minutes" Someone shouted from outside the trailer.

You sat up, taking your glasses off as you put them aside as you grabbed your contact case, quickly putting your contacts. You grab your veil, before exiting your trailer and walking towards the set. Crew preparing sets around you as you pass through different hallways, so much going on in one place but somehow you still felt at home.

"I was wondering where you were" You heard Nicholas laugh behind you as you turned to face him.

You laughed, turning to him as you smiled. Nicholas was your co-star playing a weirdly odd but kinky priest - and well, he was definitely lovely to look at.

"Nicholas, what are you doing?" The costume leader came scrambling over. "That isn't your costume for this scene- come!" She grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the set.

You laughed at Nicholas getting dragged away before walking upon the director and listening to your scene directions.

You sat upon your position on the set, the hairstylist coming to fit the veil upon your head properly, fixing your hair under it as you noticed Nicholas enter the set from the side of your view. You turn to look at him, your eye quirking up at his costume- well lack of costume.

"Nicholas why are you wearing just a towel?" You laughed.

"I have no idea- This is what Marissa gave me-" He spoke but was quickly cut off by the director on the megaphone.

"Alright! So can we get Talia on set please!"

You watched a girl walk up to you and Nicholas, smiling as she held a clipboard. "Y/N! Nicholas! I am very grateful to meet you, I am Talia your intimacy coordinator"

You blinked. You read the script you knew it was coming but you didnt realise it would be so early on. Nicholas shared a similar face to you.

"Now, don't worry, we will go over the main aspects and go over any boundaries the pair of you have" She smiled.

The next twenty minutes were spent with you, Nicholas and the intimacy coordinator. You were still shocked. It wasn't that you couldn't do it - Nicholas was attractive, and all, and the attraction for the scene was definitely there; it was just the awkwardness of it.

After talking Talia deemed you guys to be okay to proceed, the horn sounded round the studio as the pair of you prepared for your scene.

The tension loomed in the air as you stared at Nicholas from the doorway, reciting your lines.

"Can you dry my back sister... please" He hummed, passing a folded white towel over to you. You took it, walking behind him as he kneeled infront of the bed. You took the towel, slowly sliding it over his back full of gashes, cleaning the blood from his back as your finger ran over the bumps. You let your hand reset to his shoulder, softly gripping it as he hummed, it was what was scripted but it felt.. awkward.

"CUT!-" Shot through the studio as alarms sounded once more. Talia and the director came over, looking at you and Nicholas.

"Maybe lets take a break, you two talk through the scene and try and coordinate something. It feels.." The direction tapped his chin as he spoke.

"Awkward. It was very tense and not good tense" Talia sighed.

The pair of you nodded, walking out of the studio and towards the trailer as you groaned, flinging open the door as you tore the veil off your head yet again.

Nicholas sat on the couch looking up at you snickering as you groaned, sitting beside him, tossing your legs over his as you leaned back on the couch.

"I had no clue we were filming.. that today. It's just.. awkward" You looked at him, watching his body face yours completely as he held your full attention. The way his eyes stared into yours as you spoke.

"I mean if it makes you feel any better, I was pretty nervous. I didnt really know what to do and its just unfamilar i guess, its not a regular sex scene its gotta be.. kinky" He chuckled.

He made you feel comfortable. No pressure at all, the awkwardness was lifting bit by bit, showing the light under the fog.

"I mean what if we just.. you know" You blurted.

"If we just what?" Nicholas looked at you confused. "Fucked?"

"I mean you said it not me.." You looked around the room, trying to break the obvious tension as he laughed at your reaction. "I mean, for the scene right?" You smirked.

"Yeah for the scene." You sat up and looked at him as he spoke, crawling towards him slightly. You paused just before him. One of your hands gripping his thigh as the other held his shoulder.

The pair of you looked at each other for a brief moment, the balance of friends and coworkers about to be broken. As much as you wanted to chant in your head, 'it's for work, for work,' it wasn't, was it.

Your lips softly connected with his, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled you in, sitting upon his lap, your legs wrapping and encasing him between. His lips mimicked your movement, slowly moving against yours, matching your pace and rhythm.

You pulled away briefly for a moment, looking at him. "This is work right..?" You chuckled.

"Definitely work" He smirked, pushing himself up, sending you up as he pulled apart your dress, the top clasps undoing as you kissed him forcefully. Your arms flew around his neck as he tugged the dress down slightly.

Your lips interlocked as you kissed each other hungrily, your hands combing through his locks as he slid all over your torso, pinching and grabbing at the flesh.

You both wouldn't admit it, but this was a long time coming. With the subtle flirting on and off set, you both were excited for the sex scene to finally be able to 'get a taste' as Nicholas said - but you didn't expect this.

You pulled away, gripping the waist of the dress as you dragged it up your body, pulling it up over your head as you dropped it to the floor, allowing yourself to fall back against the couch, your arms around his neck as you guided him ontop of you.

"Fuck-" Nicholas groaned, towering above you as he stared down as you adored in your black lace set as you stared up at him. "Is lingere supposed to be apart of the costume.. I mean stockings? Really? The dress covers it" His hand slid down your thigh to your calf, feeling the silky sheer material covering your bare skin.

"Personal touch" You smirked at him, your hands holding his shoulders as he licked his lips.

Nicholas's head turned to the side, kissing the wrist of your hand as it held his shoulder, taking the hand as he kissed up your arm slowly, gaining closer and closer.

You pulled him down towards you, rubbing his neck softly as you pecked his lips softly. "Nick- This is mad" You laughed out.

A smile covered his lips as he kissed your cheek, to your jaw and slowly down your neck, nipping occasionally. "Its practice... for work of course"

"The for work excuse has been.. overused~" You melted into his touch, your hands resting softly upon his hips above the towel that fixed upon his body. You tugged his hips closer, noticing his lips depart from your collarbone as he peered up at you.

He licked his lips, sitting back upon his knees as he stared down at you, that cheeky grin on his face. "Now, got to act suprised in the scene, I'll give you a little preview" He snickered.

You reached forward for his towel, tugging it as it puddled at his knees. You gawked for a moment, you didnt expect him to actually be pare naked under the towel - acting and all, you'd think he'd have some sort of cover.

"The director thought it would be more authentic to be completely naked under the towel.... For gravity purposes" He winked, his hands sliding down your waist, hooking his fingers through the sides of your underwear, slowly pulling them down your body.

"That's a terrible excuse" You laughed as you lifted your feet out of your underwear as he dropped them on the floor. You sat up, pushing his chest as he sat back on the couch.

"Calm down, cowgirl", He snickered, leaning back as he stared at you; one of his heads reached to rest upon your hip, the other clasped around himself as he gradually began to pump.

You reached back, unclasping your bra and sliding it off slowly as you threw it at him, the pair of you laughing. The sight of him leant back against the couch, hot and bothered as he stared at you while touching himself was all too much, it was making you hot and bothered.

"Fuck me, you are so hot Nicholas" you brought your hands to your face, covering your eyes as you let out a loud drawn out sigh.

"Genes.. what can I tell you" He smiled, as you leaned forward pecking his lips softly a few times. His grin seeping into the kiss as you stared at him, your noses touching eachother slightly.

You leaned in, capturing him in a soft kiss, instantly reciprocated as both his hands gripped your waist. You sat in his lap, softly grinding down against him - humming softly within the kiss at the friction.

You noticed his eagerness as his hips would occasionally buckle up against yours, one of his heads to your neck, gripping it softly as he pulled you closer - the pair of you intensely making out.

Your hands raked through his hair, tugging and stroking it as his hand tested with pressure around your neck as you hummed softly, lightly moaning within the kiss.

You pulled away abruptly, looking down as you took him into your hand as you slowly guided him into you as you let out a light and soft moan, which was sounded out by his own moan.

"Fuckkkk-" His head fell backwards as his hands fell upon your waist, guiding you slowly.

You looked down at him, your hands holding his shoulders as you slowly rutted your hips against his, grinding down against him. Watching his face twitch in pleasure as his breathing stuttered at each movement.

"You are so vocal" You laughed, pecking his lips softly as you rested your forehead against his, continuing to grind down against him, watching his body for every single twitched movement.

"Cant help it- Does it bother y-you.." He stared up at you, slightly breathless as he grinned, his eyes half lidded.

"Absolutely not.. turns me on if anything" You chuckled, kissing his cheek softly as you leaned down to nibble on his ear lobe as you continued to ride him.

Nicholas continued to groan in your ear, making you smirk as you speed up your movements, dropping your body weight down against him harshly as you bucked your hips back and forth. Cusses spewed from his lips as you continued to do so. 'Fuck' 'Shit' 'Holy Fuuuck-', continued to fall from his lips as you hummed softly, soft moans leaving yours.

You watched him intently as his eyes rolled back, his eyes staying hooded as he tried to steady his breathing. Smirking as you noticed the effect you had over him, especially how cocky he is normally.

Your movements slowed down as you panted softly, leaning against him for balance and he noticed. Nicholas picked you up, causing you to yelp momentarily as you pushed you up against a desk.

"Getting tired?" He smirked, pressing his hands against the wall behind you, as he thrusted harshly forward - causing you to gulp back a moan. Your fists clenching as you stared up at him.

"I thought-" You groaned, at each thrust he made, pressing your hands against his chest as you steadied your breathing.

"Mhm.. You thought wrong; I was definitely enjoying before, though.." He pecked your lips softly, leaning to your ear. "My turn now" He whispered.

His hands hooked under your thighs, lifting your lower body up slightly as he continued to thrust into you. You yelped out, shutting your eyes as you tried to control yourself from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure, trying hard to not let go so soon. His lips harshly locked against your neck, as he sucked and bit down against the flesh.

"Nicholas-" You gasped out, moaning softly as your fingernails clawed down his back harshly.

"Shhhh" He cooed, as he licked up your neck, his hips continuing to slam against yours as the desk rocked below the pair of you.

"So fucking good- holy-" You gasped, staring at him as you laughed out slightly, his lips curling up into a smile as he continued to thrust, his hands holding your hips up just above the desk as you locked your legs around his waist tightly.

He dropped you harshly against the wood, placing a hand on your neck, kissing you roughly as you raced to reciprocate. His tongue halfway down your throat as your hands slid down his chest, your fingers feeling between the crevises of his sculpted chest. His free hand, cupping your breast as he squeezed it occasionally.

You hummed needingly into the kiss as his thumb pressed pressure against the front of your throat, causing you to tighten - which he felt. You could feel the smirk on his face as he kissed you, his tongue exploring your mouth as you helplessly allowed it.

You felt his whole hand clamp down on your neck with pressure. Your breath hitched for a moment at the sheer shock as he pulled away, your foreheads resting against one another, beads of sweat falling and mixing within each other as you gasped, staring into his eyes as he thrust deeply, holding himself within you.

"...Nick.." you croaked out as he stared at you, his eyes blown out with lust as he leaned in, biting your lip between his teeth as he held his eye contact with you, his thumb still pressed hard against the front of your throat.

He took his free hand, sliding his middle finger and index finger past your lips and into your mouth as you stared at him. You gave him no indication against it which caused his dick to twitch. He began to thrust against yet this time harder but slower. Your body rebounded each time, pushing yourself into the wall that you could've meshed into it. You sucked on his fingers, tugging his hair as you run your hand down his face, caressing it as you let out a guttural moan as he trusted once more.

"Good girl.. cum for me" He whispered, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and removing his hand from your neck as his face flew to yours, your lips instantly crashing upon one another as he gripped your hips, pulling you forward and roughly thrusting into you.

You moaned into his mouth, panting heavily as you drew closer and closer to your high. Your leg twitching as you threw your head back as his lips sucked and nipped at your neck as you screamed out loudly. Your hands clawing down his back as you came undone.

You were too dazed in your high, groaning and panting as Nicholas pulled out, groaning as he pumped himself watching as your whole body twitched.

Your legs flung closed as you stared at him, exhausted as he whined before he came on your thigh, whimpering and panting as he did so, his arm leant against the wall behind you as it supported his weight - his face mere centermeters away.

"Holy fuck-" You chuckled, out of breath as you stared at him.

His chest rose and fell as he stared up at you with hooded eyes. His finger swiping his cum off your thigh as he held it up to you.

You smirked, leaning forward and sucking it off his finger as you looked at him. He smiled at you before pushing himself off the wall as he stumbled back to the couch, laying back on it as he sighed - catching his breath.

"That was more of a workout than my actual workout sessions.. jesus Christ", Nicholas groaned, his arm resting up above him.

You pulled yourself off the desk, your legs slightly wobbly as you slowly approached him. You sat beside his head, lifting it and resting it against your thigh as you sighed.

"I think we've got the sex scene down, don't you.." You laughed, running your fingers through his hair.

"Oh, definitely" He smirked up at you.

It was safe to say, when the pair of you finally caught your breath you showered and got rechanged into your costumes. You had to cover up all the marks on your neck but for Nicholas it was fine, he was already marked by makeup so hopefully no one could tell the difference.

When the pair of you got to set, you definitely delivered the sex scene, going beyond the script. Hair pulling, finger sucking, tit grabbing, ass grabbing - the lot. Safe to say everyone was impressed.

"CUT! That was exactly what we needed, guys!" The director clapped as you and Nicholas stared at each other, panting slightly. You smirked, looking down at the tent under the towel Nicholas was wearing.

"Please don't move- it'll be so fucking embarrassing", Nicholas begged. You chuckled, patting his chest.

#nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez smut #grotesquerie #charlie mayhew #nicholas chavez x female reader #nicholas chavez x actress!reader #nicholas chavez fanfiction #nicholas chavez fic #angelfrombenethfics

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scentedpeachlandcreator · 8 months ago

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how i manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances + how you can too ♡

Note: this is not my post and it's blushydior's post that everyone been searching for, so i thought why not making it as a post,and blushy if you see this, please don't kill me i know you said that you'll change your post but you disappeared After that.

♡ table of contents:

1. the importance of making this post

2.my take on manifestation + the 3D

3. HOW I DID IT - my journey in 4 phases i went through that include my mindset changes up to the moment i got my desires

4. your new rules & routine from this moment on

5. a note from me!

6. frequently asked questions: separated into topics regarding the 3D, self concept + miscellaneous questions to have you leaving this post stress free.

now let’s get into it. read every bit of this post “ ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

I. THE IMPORTANCE OF MAKING THIS POST

i’ve been through it all. you can read my experiences from old life in the “my life before” section of my success story + here, here, here and here. this is my success story on how the law of assumption has changed my life. as you can see from the “how” section of the post, i had purposely left it short, sweet and simple to avoid people complicating the simplicity of the law of assumption. but as time went on, anons and other blogs made me realize that since people do tend to over-complicate the law, the need i felt to make an in-depth post on how i personally manifested through my hard circumstances grew strong.

my blog often highlights topics that pertain to mental health, so i want to make sure those who find themselves in the same situations as i once were feel seen, heard and loved. you are all so powerful, amazing and hold so much potential more than you know. with this post, i hope i am able to help you realize that fact to the best of my abilities.

𝐈𝐈. MY TAKE ON MANIFESTATION + THE 3D

something that you’ll see me say all the time is: “life is a blank canvas.” that’s because it truly is.

remember that you are working with the law of assumption. what you assume to be true, is true. nothing is set in stone unless you say it is. things have meaning only if you assign it one.

you are the sole creator of your life. you are the artist that controls the brush/pen, you control what goes on and off of this very malleable canvas we call life. you don’t have to do anything. therefore,

you don’t have to: affirm 24/7, be specific, word your affirmations correctly, listen to subliminals, ignore the 3D, be positive all the time, meditate, have high vibrations, script, visualize, do sats or lullaby, go into the void, affirm in the present tense, avoid the mirror, etc.

you can literally say a random word like “bonk” and if saying it means you have all your desires or money is constantly filling your bank account, then that’s what will happen!

“but what if my subconscious doesn’t know what it means?” your subconscious mind is literally you. it’s not some stranger separate from you. if you want a scene to play out a certain way on a specific date or a romantic partner with all the most perfect qualities even if you can’t name it all at the top of your head, your subconscious has your back with the details! you have your own back. don’t worry.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO IGNORE THE 3D.

read that again and again and again and again and-if your circumstances are quite literally in your face, how can you turn the other way and ignore it? you could if you wanted but you’ll only be doing more harm and we don’t want that, right?

“so then what do i do?” you KNOW it’s going to change. it’s challenging when you don’t fully believe the law to know it’s going to change, so for a start, tell yourself that this is not the end. why? because the moment you had a desire and claimed it as yours, it has already been set stone in the 4D so the 3D has no choice but to reflect it. this is your movie, you KNOW this is not the end. you are director and star of this movie! you control how it’s going to play out.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. HOW I DID IT - The 4 Phases (more so, 3)

PHASE 1:

i found out about manifestation from tiktok. from there i have tried scripting, law of attraction and had taken a liking into the craft. i tried it all until i found out about the law of assumption, sammy ingram and finally, tumblr.

PHASE 2:

upon finding out about loassumption tumblr, i had learned more and more about the law but as time went on, i had realized i had never really fully tried to apply the law. the idea just didn’t come about to apply it. as many others, i had overconsumed information, always wondering if i was doing it right, questioning the 3D,

so i took a break. upon discharge, i realized many things and decided to spend an extended amount of time alone, away from social media. i’m someone who values alone time as long as if it’s spent wisely.

during this time away from tumblr and sns platforms in general, constantly surrounded by other people’s takes, information, and opinions, i had learned so much about the law of assumption on my own! i went into the law of assumption with a fresh mind, actually applying the knowledge and overtime of affirming and persisting, i ACTUALLY understood the meaning behind “creation is finished. it is done.”

i’m advising you to step away from social media (that on it’s own has negative impacts) and be alone with your thoughts. i know your thoughts haven’t had it’s time to be alone because you’re most likely constantly seeking information to help you. and i don’t blame you. it’s just that, you are always bombarded by thoughts that aren’t your own, you barely give some time to yourself to think for yourself!

and if you can’t help but be on tumblr for other reasons than loassumption, unfollow blogs for the time being, scroll past informational posts to avoid second guessing your application. tell yourself that

YOU ARE DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT!

PHASE 3:

when it was time to apply the law, i simplified it. you choose what you desire, you affirm from your desire and persist. okay! got it. so that’s what i did. i affirmed whenever i thought about my desire, i kept saying that it is done! so in phase 2, i mentioned how i realized how creation was ACTUALLY done, right? before deciding to apply the law, i kept seeing posts saying that but i didn’t really fully understand it until the realization hit me during my time away from social media. (see? i love alone time. solitude is my bff) — here’s my breakdown for you:

once you decide a desire is yours to claim, THE SECOND you affirm that, in your head, imagination, your 4D, it is ALREADY yours. therefore, it has no choice to become physical reality. (this is why your subconscious only needs to hear things once in order for it to conform!)

it will always be yours for as long as you sustain that assumption (persist), it is yours! no matter what.

this is the meaning of “it is done.” it’s like telling a chef what dish you want, once they know what you want, they’ve got you covered. except that this chef is you. you know the details of your desire, you declare it’s going to conform instantly so why are you worrying? there is no need to worry.

informational post on the 4D + 3D here:

❝ If you judge after appearances, you will continue to be enslaved by the evidence of your senses. To break this hypnotic spell of the senses you are told, "Go within and shut the door,” The door of the senses must be tightly shut before your new claim can be honored .Instead of fighting against the evidence of the senses you claim yourself to be that which you desire to be. As your attention is placed on this claim, the doors of the senses automatically close against your former master (that which you were conscious of being). As you become lost in the feeling of being (that which you are now claiming to be true of yourself) the doors of the senses once more open, revealing your world to be the perfect expression of that which you are conscious of being. ❞

i kept time away from social media and being persistent really helped me be aware of my thoughts.

persistence has helped me:

be aware of thoughts that i wouldn’t have been able to catch before. for example, i was declaring that i have all of my desires and creation was done, but i found myself affirming “okay but where is it?” — this made me realize i was questioning my desires in my 3D even though i knew it was done in the 4D. (you don’t have to do this, you can imply your 3D conforms fast with whatever affs)

flip and interrupt my intrusive thoughts faster and faster the more i persisted. i hated my intrusive thoughts so much. like it was so annoying and hurtful. it was filled with replaying past scenarios that happened to me, things i wished had played out differently, just people who absolutely did not deserve the right to be occupying my mind and space! so i was grateful to learn that with persistence, i started to have less and less of those.

(see!! mental diet, persistence!! <3 this is how habits form and strengthen duhh. remember not to abandon common sense for the law)

AND THEN, PHASE 4:

i had entered sabbath, the state of the wish fulfilled, calm and relaxation that my desire has already manifested and there wasn’t nothing left for me to do other than persist. after so much persisting and saturating my mind with my affirmations, i reached being peace with my desires. i’m really glad i persisted. see how after persistence of assumptions, though false, will harden into fact? see how even your affirmations would feel “fake” at first but will soon feel natural to you? this means that i wasn’t questioning where it was, how long it was taking, etc. but this doesn’t mean i was ignoring my 3D. i saw it all but i knew it was going to change BECAUSE i felt peace in my inevitable desires.

then, i received my desires.

❝ I couldn’t possibly be worried about anything if I really believe that imagining creates reality. ❞

❝ When I speak of feeling I do not mean emotion, but acceptance of the fact that the desire is fulfilled. Feeling grateful, fulfilled, or thankful, it is easy to say, “Thank You,” “Isn’t it wonderful!” or “It is finished.” When you get into the state of thankfulness, you can either awaken knowing it is done, or fall asleep in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. ❞

𝐈𝐕. YOUR NEW RULES & ROUTINE

☆┆YOUR 3 NEW RULES ARE:

1, you have all your desires:

i have all of my desires.

creation is finished. it is done.

2. you manifest quickly and easily:

manifesting is always so easy and instant for me.

i always manifest within 2 days or less, the 3D conforms instantly.

the 3D instantly reflect my 4D.

the physical reality instantly reflects my 4D/imaginative reality.

3. you are okay because nothing can stop you from getting the inevitable:

everything is going to be okay because creation is done.

i am always aware of my thoughts. nothing can stop/get in the way of my desires.

no amount of intrusive thoughts, events and opinions of others have the power to stop my manifestations.

✉️: choose one affirmation from each list or make one of your own that makes you feel comfortable.

☆┆ROUTINE:

affirm on loop as an act of saturating your mind whenever you think of your desire until you feel satisfied,

in the morning, after you wake up: saturate your mind with affs.

read the manifesting vaunt below everyday (whenever you feel like it) — read it over and over again until you feel confident then go about your day!!

at night, before you sleep, affirm this:

“i kept all my thoughts in check today. i didn’t waver once. my mind is completely saturated with the new story.”

optional tip: if you want to saturate your mind even more as a start, you can set reminders with sticky notes around your space, have affs on your phone lock screen or wear a bracelet.

✉️ NOTE: soon enough, your mind will be saturated and you won’t need to do this anymore. this is just a start for those who battle intrusive thoughts!

let yourself feel any emotions that may come up because of your hard circumstances then once it’s out of your system, affirm your rules, especially rule #3!

do not consume any loassumption information if you know it will only cause you to second guess your ability. if you have the urge to ask a blog a question, try to make sense of what they will say and answer it yourself.

in times of doubt, remember that life is a blank canvas. your desire is set in stone, so your only task is to persist.

REASSURANCE VAUNT

creation is ACTUALLY finished. it is done. the second i claimed my desires as mine, it has already manifested itself in the 4D so it has no choice to present itself in the 3D! all i have to do is affirm and persist. i always have unwavering faith in my manifesting abilities and the law. i never fail. i am successful at every single thing i do. manifesting is so effortless. no amount of doubt, worry, fear, anxiety, intrusive thoughts or events can ever, and i mean EVER stop my manifestations. why? because i said so. this is MY life. i make the rules. so if i say i manifest easily, the 3D conforms instantly and that i have all of my desires, then it is a FACT. i’m literally unstoppable. everything i want is inevitable. my only task is to persist, sit back and relax as the 3D reflects my 4D. it all happens so fast, but what else do you expect from a master manifester like me?

SOMETHING TO NOTE:

most of the time, people think affirming on loop is saying it like a robot but what you don’t realize is that you’re affirming as if you’re reading a book. it’s not filled with enthusiasm but it’s not exactly monotone either. stop overthinking it. it’s like the voice you’re reading this post with. correct?

again, soon enough, your affirmations will feel natural and you won’t feel the need to affirm constantly. the routine above was given for those who battle intrusive thoughts, making your affirmations dominate to the point where you don’t waver.

QUOTES on STATES:

❝ I paid thirty dollars for my first suit. Today a suit will cost me $200.00, but regardless of the cost, when the suit is new I am aware of it. But let me wear it long enough for it to feel natural and I will no longer be conscious of it. The same is true for a state. You may desire the state of fame. If you will think you are famous and remain conscious of the state long enough to make it natural, as the thoughts flow from you they become a natural part of your body of beliefs, and the world will proclaim your fame. ❞

❝ I urge you to use your own wonderful creative power and deliberately move into the state of your choice. Make it now by occupying the state long enough so that it feels natural. Haven’t you had a suit of clothes that felt so new you were conscious of them every moment? I know when I bought my first suit I walked down Fifth Avenue thinking everyone I passed knew my suit was new. People passing paid no attention to me, but I was so aware, so conscious of my new suit. That’s exactly that happens when you move into a new state. If the state of affluence is new, you think everyone knows it, but no one knows or cares whether you are rich or poor, so walk in the state until it becomes natural. The moment the feeling is natural, wealth is yours! ❞

𝐕. ENDING NOTE

i love you. read that again. you can do it. read that again. i am so so so so proud of you. read that again! you are so strong, you have SOO much potential and power. it’s time for you to tap into it, angel. stop making excuses. stop telling yourself you can’t do it. stop the nonsense! you’ve dealt with your hard circumstances long enough, it’s time for you to turn to the person who can make that change (you) and make it happen. i’m really sorry you have to go through what you did. you certainly do not deserve the unkind treatment. give yourself a hug and tell yourself that this. is. it. you’re going to make the change. you know it and i do too. it’s possible. nothing is impossible for the person who believes! keep the faith in yourself. nothing can stop you.

it’s like those movies where the mc finds out they hold so much power. they doubt it because of the life they’ve had so far but once they give it a shot, they become the most powerful hero ever. you are that hero!!!

i love you and i am, again, giving you the biggestttt hug ever.

now, with that being said, @blushydior�� will no longer be taking asks regarding this topic. i’ve cleared most of the questions that could ever arise. you don’t need my guidance anymore after this post! im seeing you off now. i love you. stay safe. know that you’re loved and hold the power to change your life.

— kisses from bambi ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

ps. make sure you clicked the words that have links! <3 (the links are missing)

𝐕𝐈. FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

Something you wish you could’ve told yourself before you manifested it all to make things easier for anyone struggling:

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

you guys are beating yourself up for something so simple. take a step back and realize that. you’re already dealing with such hard circumstances, so why are you literally degrading yourself for something so within your power and reach? tell yourself everything is going to be okay. you’re always doing your best. you deserve the WORLD.

I could write a whole novel, combine all the posts on tumblr teaching the law of assumption, and every helpful ask out there but at the end of the day, YOU are the only person who could change your life. YOU make the call. turn every doubtful question to a positive one, when in doubt, turn inwards toward the 4D and know that it is real. it is done the second you affirmed it so.

SPEND TIME ALONE.

i can NOT stress this enough. i didn’t include the details of my time alone in phase 2 for nothing. you’ll see that you can answer your own questions. you’ll catch the thoughts you missed because you have always been so adamant on getting answers to questions you already knew. take a deep breathe and stay firm.

SEE WHAT’LL HAPPEN IF YOU DON’T GIVE UP.

What did you affirm to get your dream life?

basically my affirmations i gave above and these. all i used were blanket affirmations.

What does persisting mean to you? What does persisting really feel like? Is it just like a mental diet? or what?

“persisting is sticking to what you want / the end no matter what you’re shown, told, and what you experience + picking yourself up after letting any negative emotions & thoughts pass by.” — blushydior from this ask here (sadly the link is missing:()

+ keeping your thoughts in line of the same category. to word this in a different way, i can affirm so many affirmations just as long as they mean the same thing to me!

“it also is a mental diet. we’re always persisting in something. it’s just a matter of what you’re persisting in. you either persist in your desire or negative/non-beneficial thought 24/7.”

“in your post about how you changed your life, you said you just affirmed and persisted. but from your other posts it seems like you read neville goddard books. so did you just affirm or did you do imaginal acts too? i get confused when people say “just affirm and persist” cause neville never said that.” (original ask here) (note from Eli: the link is missing).

“yes, i read his books and sometimes i would do imaginal acts but i would only do that bc it helped me get by my circumstances, yk? like if i was overwhelmed i would just daydream lol. its like how i read books to escape to another world. but i would say, affirming and persisting was what i focused more on.

i just used what worked for me and used his quotes as a reminder of the power of man. i didn’t want to bound myself to one’s teaching constantly worrying if im doing it “right” or not so instead, i went back to his quotes that consisted of telling me to persist, look inwards, finding confirmation in my imagination, etc whenever i needed a pick me up.

but correct me if i’m wrong, i’m pretty sure many of the success stories he shared consisted of people simply decreeing their desires and feeling the wish fulfilled simply by repetition and acceptance of their assumption.”

What is saturating your mind?

read about it here (the link is missing, but Basically it is repeating an affirmation every minute or hour until you feel fulfilled)

Do we have to believe our affirmations? Did you ever doubt the law in the process?

no, i did not believe my affirmations and YES of course i doubted the law but i kept persisting either way because what could i lose? and here i am.

Did you just affirm, persist, maintain a mental diet and that’s it? No SATS, going to the void, lullaby, repeating affirmations? Did you just got it sleep?

just affirming and persisting. sure, the occasional lullaby, i usually affirmed for 10 seconds max before i gave up. i couldn’t sleep without imagining some romantic scenario LOL #bambiexposed

How to deal with manipulation and narcissism?

remind yourself that you’re in advantage because you know about the law of assumption. life is a dream, you can literally have whatever you want just by affirming. if you know that, why allow yourself succumb to other people’s thoughts and beliefs? i couldn’t allow other people’s thoughts ruin my chance of living my dream life. the thought of it alone gave me the worst feeling.

How did you tackle the feelings of having no hope? + After being in the victim state for so long what did you do to get yourself out and actually stay out?

i persisted on loop whenever i doubted the law. i reminded myself that it doesn’t hurt to just be quiet, affirm and persist to live my dream life. just do it. you gain nothing from turning back to your old habits. see what’ll happen if you don’t give up. ❝ Do you always turn to your imagination and, no matter what happens, do you remain faithful to the state imagined? If you do, you have passed the test. But if every little rumor, doubt, or fear can move you around like a pawn on a chessboard, then you are not keeping the faith! ❞ ❝ Objects seem so independent of our perception of them that we incline to forget that they owe their origin to imagination.❞

What was the timeframe of when you got your desires?

about a week after deciding to be strict with self discipline, mind you, i was dealing with hard circumstances and intrusive thoughts for years. within this time span, i had entered sabbath so i immediately got my desires.

How did you kept a positive mindset when it looked like there was no movement?

refer back to phase 3

What was your affirming routine?

AT FIRST, when i started to get sick of overconsumption and not getting my desires, i knew my mind wasn’t saturated/my desires were not my dominant thoughts. so, i decided to be strict with myself. i reminded myself with pieces of paper in my room that said: ❝ PERSIST. new story only!❞ ❝ AFFIRM!❞

❝ 1.) the 3D conforms instantly.

2.) AFFIRM THE DESIRED

3.) BE LOT.❞

and taped them on the wall infront of my bed & one on my door so i can see it before i head out.

i didn’t need them anymore after a few days. (phase 3 & 4)

What did you do on all the days you woke up and things were still the same?

stop affirming that you don’t see results. i flipped the thought of “nothing’s changed.” to “i am in my desired reality, it is done.” and so on. be stern and remind yourself that you are in control. don’t fall prey to the 3D. turn inwards, find confirmation in the 4D. read quotes above.

How did you not react to the 3D?

i allowed myself to be angry. if i wanted to cry, i did. if i wanted to vent, i did. i ranted my feelings out in my head, aloud or in a journal then proceeded to go back to the new story after i cooled down.

But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?”

you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track. i ranted for 2% of my 24 hour days. the other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and i felt more at ease. i held onto that feeling because i knew this was when i would get my desires and i did. letting out and actually feeling your feelings is important. you’re not a robot.

Did you script how your life would be?

no.

(.𖥔 ݁ note from Eli: here's her post about her life before and After she changed it with LOA, anyway i wanted to make it in a post since the Google document can't let you make a copie of it and plus you can't take screenshots which René didn't allow)

#law of assumption #loa tumblr #loa #loa blog #law of manifestation #how to manifest #loassumption #void state #affirm and manifest 🫧 🎀✨ ִִֶָ ٠˟#affirm and persist #vaunts & affirmations #4d reality #master manifestor #loa success #instant manifestation

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redlinespeedster · 20 days ago

Note

pretty please oscar piastri degradation im feral over his post-spain photos

CRAVING THE NEW !! ☆

oscar piastri 𝒙 fem!reader

[summary] Oscar was the perfect boyfriend—sweet, thoughtful, chivalrous to the extreme. You were used to his soft whispers, those breathy I-love-yous even in the middle of moans. But that night, right after he took the win at the Spanish Grand Prix, you looked at him with this different kind of spark in your eyes and dropped a request that knocked the air out of him: you wanted him to degrade you, no holding back. And there was no way he could say no. (1.7k)

[warnings] smut !! rough sex, degrading dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, Oscar is mean. Spanish is my first language, and I usually write all my fics in Spanish first, then translate them myself with a lot of effort. Sorry if anything sounds off or if there are mistakes.

[notes] I’ve been drooling over those pics for like three days. Damn, he looks so freaking good. Wish I were Lily, seriously. 😫

Your whole life, you had always liked the good guys—the ones with sweet words, the ones who brought you flowers on dates and opened the car door or any door wherever you went together. You always thought good guys were simply better. And Oscar proved it every single time.

He blushed every time he talked about you. He loved showing you off, and his words always carried that sweet tone—even when he had you tangled in his sheets. Oscar was talented at many things beyond motorsport, but his greatest gift was knowing exactly how to make you feel desired, cherished… one of a kind.

But over time, your darker desires began to awaken inside you. They were fantasies you’d been suppressing for years, but now they became frequent—impossible to ignore. It wasn’t about wanting someone else or being unsatisfied with the way you and him made love—not at all. There was simply a smoldering hunger within you, a need to explore something new… with him.

At first, you felt afraid. Afraid that Oscar might get offended, that he’d take your request as a criticism or a warning that your sex life wasn’t working. A lot of people don’t even have a mind open enough to understand that wanting to try new things doesn’t mean what came before was bad; sometimes, it’s simply about the curiosity for the unexpected.

You waited all race weekend to tell him officially. You wanted to do it when you were both home, alone, with no one who could interrupt the conversation by knocking on the door.

Oscar was genuinely happy—you could see it on his face, mostly in the way his cheeks lifted when he smiled. You, on the other hand, were anxious, anticipating how things might go, and unfortunately, he noticed.

“Baby… is everything okay? You’ve seemed kinda off since we got off the plane,” he asks, placing a hand on your knee in a gentle, understanding gesture.

Your eyes fill with tears from the anxiety. You didn’t mean to cry, but the idea of telling Oscar what’s going on makes you uncomfortable. You knew you could trust him with anything; what you didn’t know was how he’d react.

“Something’s going on with me. It’s not that I don’t love you or that I don’t like the way we have sex, but…” You stop when you see Oscar looking at you, confused and worried, so you decide to just be direct. “I want you to degrade me.”

The weirdest part? He doesn’t even seem surprised. There’s no trace of disappointment on his face either—none of that dramatic “you want this because you don’t love me anymore” stuff. Nothing like that. On the contrary, he grabs you by the hips and pulls you into that perfect space between his legs. His warm breath brushes against your ear—soft, steady—as his fingers slowly slide through your hair.

“You really want that? How come you never told me?” he asks. You turn your head to look him in the eyes, and there’s something about the way your pupils dilate that sparks an odd tenderness in him.

“It’s just… I didn’t know how you’d take it” you admit. Your body shivers when he lets out a low laugh, dry and almost amused.

There’s a sexual tension in the room that practically scorches you, stealing your breath. You feel his hands rest on your shoulders, then slowly slide down. He traces your collarbone with the tip of his fingers in a way that makes you shiver, and starts unbuttoning your tiny shirt. Your cheeks flush instantly, intimidated by how his gaze stays locked on you.

“Embarrassed, huh?” he asks, but you’re not really sure what to say—you just stay quiet. His hands move over your chest on top of your shirt, and your heart starts racing. “Why though, babe? It’s not like you’ve ever had a dirty mind or anything.”

His thumbs start teasing your nipples through the thin fabric of your white shirt. He immediately notices you’re not wearing a bra and smirks. Not a big smile—more like a cocky one, like he’s lowkey amused by how easy it is to get you like this.

“I bet you’re soaked. You always get like this. Acting like a bitch in heat.”

A slight jolt of arousal runs through your body. His voice, deeper than usual, and his words catch you off guard. You’re still not completely used to hearing him talk like that, but you don’t mind… if anything, you want more.

He's not wrong, your pussy is dripping.

He notices the second his hand moves down and his fingers slide over the denim fabric of your shorts. Your nose brushes against his; he’s calm, eyes half-lidded, with an almost taunting stillness. You, on the other hand, are a mess—you can barely breathe.

“You’re not even trying to hide it. I spent the whole damn weekend focused on my race, stressing about losing, and all you could think about was riding me like the filthy little slut you are. Am I wrong, babe?

His hand unbuttoned your pants until they dropped and bunched up around your ankles. He can see the wet stain on your panties—sticky and damp. You’d soaked through the fabric. He presses his fingers gently over it, and as a result, they get wet too. But what really gets to you is the moan that slips out, caused by how sensitive you are.

He doesn’t even bother taking your panties off; he just lazily pushes the fabric aside, leaving you completely exposed. Eager anticipation made your clit throb.

Oscar used to touch you slowly, taking his time to gently slide his fingers through your wet folds and then sweetly rub your clit. But this time, it’s different. He quickly slips two fingers into your hole, curling them into a hook to hit that exact spot inside you. Then, once you’ve gotten used to it, he starts moving them in and out with steady force, pulling deep moans from your throat that fill the room.

“Fuck, Osc!” you moan out loud, and you feel him pull his fingers out just to slap your pussy gently—a move that sends an instant jolt through your body and makes you squirm.

“Shut up, slut.” he orders, and you feel his fingers curl back inside you, pounding your poor hole with a near-brutal rhythm, thrusting in and out without mercy. The way he timed each thrust to hit that perfect spot inside you before pulling back was just unreal.

His hand grips your hips, trying to pull you even closer, making your ass rub against his hardness. You can feel his erection—still clothed—pressing firmly against your skin. His hands move down with urgency to get rid of the fabric in the way, unbuckling his belt without wasting a second.

His damp hands grip your hips tightly before he throws you onto the bed without a second thought, making you bounce against the mattress with a muffled moan. He grabs you by the ankles and drags you toward him, settling between your legs as his body drops over yours, trapping you with no room to escape.

“I can only imagine the agony,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours while his hands grip your bare thighs. Then he lifts them firmly, spreading them and pushing them toward your body until your knees are nearly pressed against your stomach. “You spent the whole week watching me race, dying for me to wreck you. You don’t like it when I talk sweet, do you? When I tell you how good you look or how amazing you feel. What really turns you on is when I treat you like my throwaway toy.”

You feel him drip slowly onto the lower part of your stomach—warm and wet��leaving a sticky sensation clinging to your skin. Then his cock slides gently through your folds, not entering, just teasing; he only wants to watch you lose control.

“Oscar… please.” you sob between moans, clinging tightly to his back like letting go would mean losing your mind. “I can’t take it… I can’t.”

He shifts, kneeling in front of your pussy—completely exposed, utterly wrecked. The tip of his cock slides in slowly until it disappears inside you, filling you up completely. He pauses for a second to let you adjust, and in the next, he’s thrusting hard, the sound of your bodies slapping echoing through every corner of your house.

Oscar moans too. He moans because you’re squeezing him just right—hot, wet, and perfect—driving him insane. His hands dig into your thighs, pushing your legs toward your chest to spread you open wider, so he can bury himself as deep as possible and fuck you without mercy.

“Fuck…” he groans, voice rough as his face twists in pure pleasure. The look on his face—that mix of ecstasy and desperation—sets you off instantly. Your walls tighten around him, like your body’s trying to keep him there till the very end. You’re right on the edge, seconds away from turning the moment into a glorious mess. “You want me to fill you up? I will. I’ll stuff you so full my cum’ll be dripping out of that pathetic pussy for days.”

You can feel how tightly you’re clenching around him, until you finally make him come inside you, milking him for every last drop. Your pussy takes it all in, savoring every bit until you’re left a creamy mess, mixed with your own orgasm that bursts inside you too. The pleasure hits so hard it leaves you dazed, gasping, your body trembling and your legs on the verge of giving out.

He looks at you tenderly, finally letting go of that dominant side once he sees you’re satisfied with what he gave you. He smiles softly and leans in again to kiss your forehead. Your cheeks, inevitably, flush all over again.

“I like this…” he murmurs quietly, his hand gently caressing your cheek. You raise an eyebrow, curious, not really getting what he means. “Fucking you till you can’t breathe and then watching you blush like a virgin. That’s just something I’ll never get tired of, huh baby?”

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x fem!reader #oscar piastri fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 smut #formula 1 x reader

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mariasont · 3 months ago

Text

privacy, interrupted

waking up next to spencer on vacation is the perfect morning, until rossi walks in without knocking

pairing: spencer reid r x shy!reader warnings: fem!reader, post prison spencer, reference to sexy time the night before, reader is naked, kissing, established relationship, fluff prompt: here wc: 0.8k

You sense him stirring beside you, all cautious and considerate, like he’s navigating some delicate truce neither of you signed but both seem bound to uphold. Your limbs protest with sleepiness, practically begging you to ignore it, but your brain has other ideas, wide awake simply because it’s him.

Your subconscious has apparently decreed that Spencer Reid isn’t permitted to be awake alone without your awkward, fumbling company.

And, honestly, you can’t bear the thought of him quietly awake, probably counting obscure facts or memorizing solitude, so, inevitably, your internal clock (diligently trained, very Spencer-oriented) kicks in every morning like some sort of lovesick, overly attached alarm.

Your eyes blink sluggishly open, and yeah, you’re already mentally cursing about the loss of precious sleep.

That is, until Spencer comes into view, giving you a sleepy-soft smile as soon as he sees that your awake that somehow justifies this sappy morning ritual you’ve cultivated.

“Hey there, beautiful girl,” Spencer murmurs, warm enough to render you mushy.

You manage exactly one very brave, extremely fleeting glance into his eyes — long enough for you to panic at just how intense his adoring gaze feels — before you promptly conclude that the only dignified response is burying your burning face straight into his chest.

“Morning,” you mumble, barely audible, and okay, sure, it's a weak greeting, but you're pretty sure he knows that your social capabilities are severely limited before coffee.

“How’d you sleep?”

His fingers leisurely map trails along your stomach, occasionally dipping lower, grazing along your thigh. Your breath stalls at his touch, instantly bringing you face-to-face with the very naked reality (literally) of your current state, and you're vividly aware of why you slept better than you have in years.

You squirm against him awkwardly, deeply thankful your mortification is safely concealed in the crook of his neck. You’re fairly certain there’s no scenario — no alternate timeline or parallel universe — where you’d confess out loud just how blissfully Spencer can apparently knock you out.

“Fine,” you mumble evasively.

Spencer’s fingers move to cup your chin, lifting your face until you’re forced to meet a pair of amused eyes.

“Just fine?” He eyes you skeptically. “You were snoring pretty loudly for someone who slept just fine.”

You splutter out a laugh, embarrassed and giggling all at once, shoving lightly at his shoulder.

“Spencer!” you squeak indignantly. “I absolutely, categorically, undeniably do not snore. Take it back right now.”

“Oh, I’m afraid the science disagrees,” he begins casually, hands running absentminded passes over your side as he explains. “Almost everyone snores at least occasionally. It happens when your throat muscles relax during deep sleep. It’s completely normal.” He pauses. “Some might even say cute.”

He punctuates his little speech with a tap on your nose, grinning when you wrinkle it at him.

“Spencer’s, that’s —” you begin to argue, reader to counter his science, when he suddenly silences you with a kiss, stealing your voice mid-protest.

You try valiantly (well, sort of) to keep arguing, words stubbornly squeezing out between soft kisses that blur your logic.

“I’m serious —” kiss “— you don’t get to —” kiss “— to win arguments —” kiss “— like this,” you mumble, dissolving into breathless laughter as he continues, smugly aware he’s already won.

You’re giggling into yet another stolen kiss when a brisk knock at the door startles you apart, no time to process before Rossi strolls into the room.

“Hey, kid, we’re making coffee downstairs if you —” Rossi stops midsentence.

You barely have a second to manage a yelp before Spencer moves quickly, positioning himself like a very protective, and slightly panicked, human shield in an attempt to salvage your rapidly disappearing dignity.

“Oh my god, Rossi,” you groan from your makeshift hiding spot behind Spencer’s shoulder.

Rossi lets out a thoroughly entertained chuckle, clearly relishing in your horror. He doesn’t immediately move to leave, instead pausing in the doorway.

“Well, it appears you’re both quite awake already,” he remarks, mouth curving into a smirk. “But just in case you decide to join civilization at some point, I’ll put another pot on. Take your time.”

Spencer clears his throat awkwardly. “Thanks, Rossi,” he deadpans. “Maybe next time knock and actually wait for an answer?”

Rossi grins shamelessly, lifting his hands in exaggerated innocence as he backs toward the hallway.

“I’ll consider it, right after you two consider hanging a do-not-disturb sign.”

The second Rossi shuts the door, you collapse against Spencer, sighing miserably, “That’s it. Vacation over. Social life destroyed. We’re never leaving this room again until the end of time, or at least until everyone forgets what just happened — which, spoiler alert, they won’t.”

“End of time feels a little excessive,” he teases gently, nudging your jaw with his nose. “But if it means I get to spend a few more uninterrupted days with you, I might just let you have your way.”

You roll your eyes internally, half-heartedly pretending to be annoyed at Spencer’s ridiculously charming response. Honestly, it doesn't make sense how easily he dismantles your panic with one sentence and that stupidly cute smile.

Still, your pride demands at least some resistance, even if your heart is enthusiastically voting yes to the bed-hibernation plan. So, fine — maybe hiding here forever (or at least for a couple days) wouldn’t be the absolute worst way to spend your vacation.

Actually, scratch that — it might just be your ideal outcome.

join me at the beach for my 1 year/4k event!

day 2 extras

💌 click here to check in → confirm your room (and crush)

maria's spring break getaway masterlist

#mariasspringbreakgetaway #mariaversegetaway #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds fluff #dr spencer reid #reid

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lucidfairies · 8 months ago

Text

LET'S PLAY

pairing: ghostface!Abby x reader x ghostface!Ellie

synopsis: you've always been afraid of scary movies, but when abby recreates one of her favorites with some help from her best friend... lets just say you face your fears.

warnings: fear kink (?), threesome, pussy eating, strap usage, gendered pet names, double penetration + anal [r! receiving], face riding [e! + r! receiving], scissoring [a + e], very brief gendered talk ("but my sweet girl can take it, can't she?"), unrealistic squirting

wc: 2k

a/n: hi guys! to be fully transparent with you guys, I've been extremely busy over the last couple of weeks and have no chance to write. on top of that I'm extremely under the weather right now, so this is the only Halloween shot I have written. 😭😭 I'm really sorry that it worked out this way, maybe I can finish and post the others later on!

it was halloween. finally halloween. and the conditions were perfect. the dark night sky was filled with grey clouds that stuck out from the moonlight, fog had been gathering all day, so that once trick or treating started for the little kids and partying started for the older kids, it was just right. you had different plans on your mind, though. tonight it would be just you and Abby, with movies, popcorn, and definitely some costumes.

in all honesty, halloween scared you in the slightest. the movies that Abby often wanted to watch were gruesome, and you wound up with your hands over your eyes, merely listening to the shrieks and stabbings. abby loved it, though, so you found it in your heart to get over it.

that fear, however, resurrected itself when the clock passed eleven, knowing she was supposed to be home at nine-thirty. you had texted her a number of times at this point, even called her, with no response. it was more than strange; in all the years you and abby had been together, she had never, ever missed a halloween.

at a certain point you sighed and got off the couch, accepting that she apparently just wasn't coming home. you went down to your room, changing and laying down to sleep. you tossed and turned, not used to a bed without her body in it. after a while, you laid on your back with a huff, grabbing your phone to text her again.

before you could press send, you heard an aggressive jingle of the lock on the front door. it didn't stop, and you were slammed with the feeling that someone was trying to to get in. someone was trying to to get in. a bat hid behind your door, and you ran over to grab it before leaving your bedroom. you looked over your shoulder, into every room, but you didn't see anything. the kitchen was dark once you walked into it, and as you went to flick the lights on, you felt a strong hand on your hip that pulled you back, covering your mouth with their other hand.

the bat was ripped from your hands by a second person, and you screamed, but the hand covering your mouth was gloved and masked the sound. you could feel the captors heart beating and their chest rise and fall.

“sorry I'm late,”

it was abby. abby who followed you through your house and abby whose hand was over your mouth. the lights flicked on and you were faced with a different person, dressed in a ghost face mask and it's matching rags. you pushed out of abby's grip and turned to face her, realizing that she also had a mask on.

“what the fuck abby?” you quietly shrieked. “what was that? you scared me.” the light caught the knife in her hand, and suddenly a pit developed in your stomach. it was fear, flat, undoubtable, fear. “why do you have a knife?” she walked towards you slowly until your back was against the wall.

“don't worry baby, we're just gonna play,” her large body encased you. “you remember ellie, don't you sweet girl?” you nodded slowly, tears welling up in your tear ducts. “my poor baby, don't cry, we're gonna be real nice to you.” when she said that, you finally came to the realization as to what was happening. this is why abby loves the scary movies. she likes the control; the fear. you relaxed. “do you trust me, pretty girl?” you looked at her through the mask and nodded slowly. “do you trust me to not hurt you?” you nodded again.

“let's play then, baby.”

that's how you ended up here, on your back, with ellie on your face and abby between your legs. ellie had a hand in your hair, forcing you to look up at her while you ate her out. she was grinding down on your tongue, chanting your name as she chest rose and fell quickly. she had definitely already come, but she was using you to get off.

abby, however, had a strap buried deep in your cunt. you two hadn't used a strap before, you didn't even know where she got it, all you knew and could think about was how much she was filling you. the mask was still covering her face, but you almost got off to it. she had your legs pushed up to your chest, drilling her hips into your ass over and over, going even after your orgasm had lit up your body.

finally she let up, but you knew you weren’t even close to done. ellie got off your face and they both looked at each other, as if they were coming to a conclusion by just looking at each other, then they both looked over at you. abby discarded her mask and tossed it into the pile of clothes, loosening the harness from her hips and throwing it along with everything else. “get up,” ellie said, replacing you as you stood up. “sit on my face, sweets. face abby like the pretty thing you are.” the position was weird, but somehow it worked. you were backwards on ellie’s face, but her skilled tongue still managed to find everything you needed just right.

abby lifted ellie’s leg up, shifting herself between her lifted leg and her dripping center, rolling her hips down until they were both moaning. with the hand that wasn’t keeping ellie’s leg steady, abby grabbed you by the throat and brought your lips to hers, moaning into your mouth as your tongues met. ellie was so good at eating pussy, you almost didn’t want to pick between her and abby. maybe tonight meant that you could have both of them whenever you wanted.

ellie fucked you with her tongue while her thumb found your clit, spreading your wetness and her saliva over it and rubbing in rhythmic, slow circles. you were all but pushing all your weight onto abby, who was still riding ellie’s pussy. now, though, her head was back, neck exposed. you regained your headspace slightly, just enough to run your lips along her neck and suck. your lips traveled to her tits, marking her in a way you hadn’t before.

you stopped as soon as you felt your orgasm building quickly, instead opting for your previous option of grabbing her for support. it seemed as if you both were in the same boat, because her face scrunched up in focus, like it did every time she came. your head was on her shoulder as you came, whimpering at just how good it felt. ellie didn’t let a drop miss her tongue.

abby stood up, and you zoned in on how both of their pussies were covered in each other’s cum. your pupils were wide, your mouth was basically hanging open with drool. abby looked at you and chuckled. “wanna clean me up, sweetheart?” you got up from the bed and kneeled in front of her, assuming that’s what she wanted you to do, and waited for her to spread her legs. she leaned against the wall and propped her leg up on your shoulder, letting you lap at her until everything was gone. it tasted so good, so much like abby with a hint of ellie. it was the perfect blend.

though you wanted to lick up ellie too, she had already cleaned off with a bed sheet. “I have one more thing to try, if you’re up for it, baby.” you nodded profusely, and both girls looked at each other with a smirk. “get on the edge of the bed in doggy.” you did as told, putting your knees on the edge of the bed and arching your back so that your face was in the comforter. “good girl,” abby cooed, reaching down to pick up her harness and clip it on again. ellie also pulled one out from the jumble of clothes, and you wondered where hers was going to go. in the bedside drawer, abby pulled out a small bottle of lube, which she must have snuck in at some point earlier in the day to prepare.

earlier, when all of this started, you didn’t need lube, so you couldn��t understand what that was for. until both girls walked behind you. you felt the tip of one of their straps rubbing against your ass and you leaped forward, ill prepared. “this is gonna be a big stretch, baby, but my sweet girl can take it, can’t she?” you hummed at abby’s words, sucking in a harsh breath as her strap entered a new place. it was certainly different, but it felt so good. it was just the stretch you wanted, and it got even better when you felt ellie running the tip of her strap up and down your folds.

when ellie pushed her strap into you along with abby’s, the earth froze. “fuck, babe, look at your slut,” from what you could see, they were both admiring the way your stretched for them. You weren’t going to deny that it hurt a little, but with the way they were looking at you and the way ellie kept hitting exactly where you needed to plus the stretch of both of them, it made up for the slight discomfort.

once they gained a rhythm, you had them railing you at the same time, strokes hard and fast, with ellie’s large, skinny hands wrapped around your waist to keep you up. your hands grasped the bedsheets tightly, listening to your body as you neared closer and closer to finishing. there was another feeling building, one you hadn’t felt before, but you made an effort to ignore it. The closer you got, the noisier you became, moaning and grunting with every thrust until you were twitching on the edge of release.

the weird feeling that you were ignoring came back hard and fast, sitting somewhere strange in your bladder. it was like the urge to pee, but with some form of pleasure to it. they pulled it out of you with their harshness, making you squirt hard as you finished. you rolled your hips back at how strong your orgasm was, tears running down your face and creating a pool on the comforter.

you felt strangely empty as they both pulled out, unclipping both of their harnesses yet again and tossing them. “you did such a good job angel. let’s get cleaned up.” you all showered together, then abby surprised you with matching pajamas. ellie was packing up her stuff and you frowned.

“stay,” you said, and she looked up at you and smiled. “we can watch a movie. you can leave in the morning. don’t drive home in the dark.” she sat her backpack down and climbed into bed with the both of you. abby rolled over to grab the remote and turned on scream, just for the irony.

taglist: @inukastan1 @elliecoochieeater @pepperflakess @hastasupern0va @jazzys19 @purring4elliewilliams @decaffeinatedclodbagelweasel @lonelyfooryouonly @heyimrye (if your not tagged it said your account did not exist, I apologize)

#abby anderson #tlou2 #abby anderson smut #tlou #abby smut #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #ellie x abby #abby headcanons #abby fanfiction #abby the last of us #abby x reader #ellie smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader

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ikktygcto · 3 months ago

Text

— 민호 “FAMILY”

𝑒x.ᐟminho × 𝒻 em.ᐟreader

hey! this is my first post on this account. welcome back in you are from @wrttenbyhan. if not, hello! and welcome to my world of writing. here is a safe space for you and other readers to communicate, read and support me through my journey! please check out my account - you might like it!

𝒽appy reading !

creds to lsoidsyfisoru!!

minho’s cats loved you, maybe even more than minho himself. soonie, doongie and dori were all attached to you, clinging to you everytime you came over. you five were the perfect family. if minho’s cats liked you, then he knew you were the one.

that was until you and minho started to grow distant. you were in your third year of college and minho was working a full time job as a dance teacher. both of you were busy, so you two decided to break up on good terms. even though it hurt, it was hard to balance out having a relationship with separate lives.

but it took a toll on his cats. everyday coming back from the studio, minho always saw soonie sitting on the window sill, looking outside as if he was waiting for you to visit like you usually did. soonie wouldn’t even join minho in bed for cuddles anymore.

he couldn’t stand seeing soonie so sad all the time, so he decided to call you to make plans. he kept manipulating himself, saying that it was all for soonie’s sake, but deep inside, minho - and soonie - knew it was more for him.

you had managed to make time to visit minho on his day off. pulling up in minho’s driveway, soonie was seen in the window, clawing at the already scratched glass as he remembered the familiar car, meowing loudly. minho looked over from where he was currently sitting ; you were here. he stood up and approached the window.

“look, baby, it’s your y/n!”

minho cooed, petting soonie’s fur. he watched as you made your way to his front door.

nervously, you prodded your way to the front door. this was giving you memories ; good and bad. mainly good. you knocked on the door and waited.

minho let out a sigh, his heartbeat increasing as he made his way to the front door. he opened it, greeting you with an empty smile. he hadn’t seen you in so long and he missed you so much. just the mere sight of you made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

“hey.”

he leaned against the doorway, almost tripping. fuck. that was embarrassing. he blushed and stood up straight.

you held in a giggle as you watched him trip. he was always so clumsy, especially when he was flustered. whenever you would hold his hand, or after a kiss, he would be so flustered that you would think that he was ill. his voice would tremble and his cheeks would go an adorable - but bright - red.

you waved slightly with that gorgeous smile that made minho’s knees weak.

“hi..”

minho’s eyes wandered up and down your body, taking in your appearance. you still looked as beautiful as ever. he cleared his throat and stepped aside to let you come in before closing the door behind him.

“long time no see, huh?”

you nodded. as you looked around, you noticed that everything was the same ; the pictures of him and the cats and some family still sat in the right places, the cactus stayed in its rightful place. the only thing difference was the duffle bag that stayed on the stairs, which held his dance kit.

“yeah,”

you said with a sigh, a happy sigh,

“it’s been a while.”

minho shoved his hands in his pockets. suddenly feeling awkward. he nodded his head in agreement before letting out a sharp exhale.

“how’ve you been?”

“good,”

you replied. it was so awkward now, you used to hug and kiss your way to the couch and you would cuddle there while you both talked about your day. he would always be extremely clingy when you got home, like a leech. but you didn’t mind it, in fact, you loved it.

“how about you?”

minho shrugged, his eyes avoiding yours. he hated this. the awkwardness between you two. where was all the giggling and teasing? where was the love?

“i’m alright. tired mostly. work is exhausting.”

wanting to get to the point, you asked where the cats were.

minho perked up at the mention of the cats.

“they’re around somewhere,”

he then shouted out,

“doongie! dori!”

minho then looked over to where doongie was sleeping peacefully on the couch. dori was laying on the cat tower. but soonie was still sitting behind you, on the windowsill.

you picked poor soonie up, and kissed his little head. you could tell the difference between soonie and doongie because soonie had a pink nose, while doongie had an orange one that matched his coat.

“hey, soonie, baby..”

soonie meowed happily, the sound of your familiar voice making him happy as usual. he nuzzled his head against your chest, his tail gently swaying. minho watched from the doorway, his heart melting as he saw you holding his cat in your arms. you whispered,

“how are you? are you coping without y/n? hmm?”

soonie then purred, his body fully relaxed in your hold. he looked up at you with wide eyes, almost as if he was saying “i’ve missed you a lot.” minho sighed silently, walking over to you. he gently petted soonie’s head before standing next to you.

“he’s been pretty sad, actually. i think he misses you a lot. he always sits at the window, waiting for you to come home.”

you pouted, knowing that you missed the cats too. now that you think about it, you missed everything. even minho.

“yeah, i.. i’ve missed them too.”

he hummed in response, keeping his hand on soonie’s fur. dori jumped off of the couch, approaching you as well. minho let out a light chuckle, looking over at you.

“dori and doongie have too. they seem to prefer you over me now, you know.”

you lightly chuckled, shaking your head. you sat on the floor and both kitties climbed onto your lap, yearning for your love, affection and care. sort of like how you yearned for minho’s love.

“where’s doongie, anyway?”

you muttered, trying to guide your mind to someplace else.

minho pointed over to the couch, where doongie was fast asleep. he was curled up into a ball on the couch cushion.

“there he goes again... little lazybones.”

you giggled and let out an “aww!”

minho shook his head in amusement, crossing his arms over his chest. he sat down on the floor next to you, watching his cats surround you. dori was settled in your lap, doongie was peacefully sleeping on the couch while soonie was rubbing against your legs.

“god... you really do have them wrapped around your finger.”

he moved closer to you, sitting cross legged on the floor. he looked at dori and soonie, smiling softly. he really missed the wholesome moments like this.

“i haven’t seen them this playful in a while. you really do have a way with them.”

you nodded and smiled. then suddenly, minho got a notification on his phone. the most shocking thing was that his lockscreen was still of you. the picture that he took of you when you guys went on your first year anniversary date. he quickly turned his phone off, but you were able to catch a glimpse.

“is.. is that me?”

minho’s cheeks heated up, a light red flush appearing on them. he cleared his throat, shoving the phone back into his pocket. he looked away, avoiding eye contact.

“oh, uhm... yeah it is...”

he said sheepishly.

you blushed. your face slowly creeped into a crimson red, and you started stuttering. maybe he misses you too. well, obviously he does, why else would he still have you on his lockscreen?

his face only turned a brighter shade of red, an awkward silence settling in between you two. he fidgeted with his rings, not knowing what to say next. he had completely forgotten about the photo of you on his lock screen, he was so used to it being there. honestly, he thought you wouldn’t notice it.

minho bit the inside of his cheek, trying his best to not look at you. he was embarrassed. why was that photo still on his phone? why did he leave it as the wallpaper when it was clearly the source of the pain he felt from the breakup?

he was completely at loss of words. all he could do was sit there in silence, feeling awkward and flustered.

you couldn’t hold back anymore. you pulled your phone out and showed him your lockscreen, which still matched with his, a picture of him on your first year anniversary date. you just missed him so much.

minho’s eyes darted down to your phone, which you were holding up for him to see. seeing his own face as the lock screen was a shock. his heart skipped a beat as he looked at it. he hadnt expected you to have his photo on your phone, especially after everything that happened.

he looked at you, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. he was completely dumbfounded.

“i missed you. a lot.”

you mustered, putting your phone in your pocket. minho then inhaled sharply, feeling a knot form in his throat. he missed you as well. a lot. but he couldn't bring himself to tell you.

“i... i miss you too.”

he said it barely above a whisper. he felt weak. he hated how much he was still attached to you.

“you know.. i only came for you, well, obviously for the cats as well, but mainly for you, minho.”

minho raised his eyebrows, his eyes going wide like saucers. he hadn’t expected you to admit such a thing. but deep down, he felt the same. he wanted to see you. he wanted to talk to you, hold you.

“you... you did?”

he tried to keep a steady voice, but he was already failing to. you nodded, feeling tears well up in your eyes for some reason. you went to grip his hand, but you pulled it back.

minho felt his heart ache as he looked at you. he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around you, to feel your warmth close to him. but he held himself back.

“why?”

he asked sheepishly.

“because i still love you, minho.”

those rang in his head. “i still love you,” my god, he couldn't take this anymore. a wave of emotions flooded through him.

without even thinking, minho moved closer to you, closing the gap between you. he gently cupped your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks tenderly with his thumbs. he finally looked into your eyes, his heart leaping in his chest.

“i love you too. i never stopped.”

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pha55ed · 6 months ago

Text

PR Nightmare Two || F1/F2

type :: crack

tw/cw :: pee (carlos), sexual jokes (charles, oscar), watersports (lando), small smut (lando), mpreg (lando, oscar), bear fucking (ollie), necrophilia (ollie),

contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, max, ollie, paul

summary :: driver!reader is the driver's teammate which is awesome! except the fact that you're a fucking pr disater who can't shut your mouth. platonic or romantic !

xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist

Carlos Sainz | 55

After moving to Williams, Carlos was terrified that you and him wouldn't click. But was quickly proven wrong as you were extremely open despite just meeting him. He knew everything about you... Too much...

Yet again, you were trapped in an interview that was seemingly never-ending. This interview was live on Sky Sports, meaning you both had to be extra careful and stay on for much longer than usual. Although Carlos was tired, you weren't. Yapping would have been your full time job if it wasn't for your skills in Formula.

"What is a secret you haven't told each other?" The interviewer asks, expecting something along the lines of 'I ate your ice-cream once' or 'I hate when you wear crocs'. Carlos was going to reply with something similar to that but you quickly jumped in.

"I wanna pee in the ice bath so bad" You said with a desperate tone, as if you were grieving the pain of not being able to bathe in your own piss. Carlos looked at you in shock.

"What?!" He asked, his shock turning to laughter to help cope. "But you never did right...?"

"Of course not holy shit." You say, disgusted he would think so lowly of you. "But I wanna see how my pee would react the muscle-relaxants and ice and shit. Like what if I become the Hulk but yellow-"

Quickly the camera were cut and the live stream ended before you could say more. You ruined an entire live stream with over 20,000 live viewers. From that moment, Carlos knew you two would be perfect together on this team.

Charles Leclerc | 16

Doing small interviews didn't bother Charles that much. He didn't mind talking and his fanbase was lovely. But once you became his new teammate at Ferrari, interviews were now 10 times more fun.

"Did you guys have any embarrassing childhood crushes?" The interviewer asked, finally giving you both non-racing related questions.

"Oh yes!" Charles said, excited to talk about himself. "Definitely Kristen Stewart haha! Not very embarrassing, but I did watch Twilight just for her."

"That's so valid" You said relaxed, "I think mine was probably 9."

Both Charles and the interviewer looked extremely confused. "From what show...?" The interviewer asked, assuming it was something like the Umbrella Academy or Stranger Things.

Now you were confused as well, "Huh? There's no show." You repeated yourself. "9, as in the number... Like the circle and line."

"Oh..." The interviewer said, trying their best to find a way to segway this into the next question but they were cut off by Charles.

"No way," Charles said, "Maybe! MAYBE I could understand the number 8 but 9???" Now the interviewer was completely lost. "At least 8 has curves and a body, what does 9 have?"

"I know he's packin" You said with a grin "That little curved tail, curved UPWARDS? And the-"

Cameras off. Interviewers cutting you off. And Charles was deeply interested... This clip launches your duo name: Eight Eat Nine

Lando Norris | 04

"How are you helping (Y/N) adjust to being a new Papaya!" The interviewer asked innocently. Little did she know how much Lando has been enduring with you. Thankfully he recored it all and there would be a video posted to Youtube soon.

"Awful." Lando says before chuckling, almost more like a nervous break down chuckle. "Every day is hell with em' here."

"What???" The interviewer asked, thinking she got first-hand access to the newest gossip on the grid. "Did something happen?"

"YEAH." Lando said, simply nodding, not having the guts to say what you did. Thankfully, but not very thankfully to Lando, you walked into the interview after overhearing it.

"Yeah, what DID I do?" You ask, almost sounding threatening. "Don't make me show you again."

After weeks passed and rumors were rampant online. Rumors about you blackmailing him, overthrowing his family's business, kicking him out of Mclaren, and so so many more extreme rumors that you both were laughing at. Lando finally edited and posted his newest Youtube video: "Reading Fanfiction with (Y/N)!?"

Despite the thumbnail seeming like you two would be reading fan-fiction shipping you both together, instead, you found the most vile, borderline dark content, gay fics of Lando with a variety of drivers.

Thus, explaining the odd dynamic between you two. In reality, you both were perfectly fine and closer than ever. But you just wanted to play up the drama in order to rack up some views and tweets. It was awful for the PR team, but to you guys: it was funny.

Oscar Piastri | 81

oscarpiastri: got a tan and a new helmet: ready to destroy the next half of the 25' season! @.mclaren

→ yourusername: finish taking that shirt off. now.

→ yourusername: take off your pants too while your at it.

⎯→ user 01: OH MY GOD (Y/N)?????? UNDER A MCLAREN TAGGED POST TOO????

→ user 02: they're never ever going to beat the dating accusations

⎯→ yourusername: we're about to be dating once he comes home

→ user 03: thought i was a freak but (y/n)... u can have him

→ yourusername: my lovely wonder-bread, bend over for me.

⎯→ user 04: i thought this was a joke about his name sounding like pastry but she's just calling him white, isnt she

⎯→ user 05: that's her precious white chocolate delight

→ yourusername: gonna get ur fine ass pregnant

→ yourusername: raw. next question.

⎯→ user 06: i can't tell if she's tiktok typa horny or tumblr typa horny

⎯→ user 07: definitely tumblr...

No image. I'm not searching this shit up again.

Max Verstappen | 01

Tiktok is something Max tries to stay away from. Not that he hates the app, he'd just rather do something else with his time. But you, the newest and youngest driver on the grid, loved Tiktok. You were basically the marketing for Redbull despite your out of pocket videos at times.

And that included you coming up with the idea to have Max react to fans posts. An innocent idea that Max didn't mind filming content for, after all, he loved his fans. But you quickly were going to make him doubt that.

You were smart, showing him innocent tiktoks first. Fan art, cool edits, and even analysis on his best drives. As the video was coming to an end, you brought up the trend where drivers were compared to a food and a quote.

Often times Max was compared to a key lime pie, bell pepper, or an energy drink. But you then showed him THE strawberry slideshow. You knew what the ending was.

"Oh strawberry!" Max said, excited to finally get a sweet themed item. But as he swiped and saw the strawberries then coated with white chocolate, obviously implying something, he jumped back and gasped. "OH!!! Well, I didn't... I didn't expect that."

While you were dying, already posting it - he was traumatized.

Oliver Bearman | 87

Interviews were fun between you both, fans always loved it. Mainly because both of you can't keep your mouth shut. The only way to make your interviews even worse is to get Franco to join in with you guys.

But unlike Ollie's sassy comments, you asked stupid questions. Butt fuck stupid questions. Which Ollie always took serious. Think of Tom Holland answering the question about him "faking" being British or Theo Von's podcast vibes. It was the dumb American x understanding Brit duo.

So when you both were forced to create a "podcast" for Prema, aka a race preview, you both took full advantage of this time. You were supposed to be just folding laundry, but almost nothing got folded. It was just yapping and yapping.

"I got a question," You say, attempting to fold a shirt but doing awful at it.

"Hmm?" Ollie replied, picking up the shirt you just folded and undoing it. Only to fold it properly himself.

"Why is your name Bearman?" You ask. "Cause like, I know British people got like, My Little Pony names. Like how people named Smith's were blacksmiths and stuff."

"Oh well," Ollie paused to think, "I dunno actually. It's from my great grandpa so."

"Did he fuck a bear or something?" You ask, nonchalantly while Ollie instantly is confused. "Cause lowkey, back in the day I bet Bearman was a slur."

"No..." Ollie hesitated, "I highly doubt my grandpa fucked a bear. I think we probably just hunted bears-"

"So you're a family of necrophiles?" You shake your head, "That's just wrong man."

"I never said that-"

Paul Aron | 17

paularon_: Went for a run, in Italy, with a film camera🇮🇹🎥

→ yourusername: is it say yes to the dress or say yes to the SLUT???

→ yourusername: is this your soft launch for your only fans?

⎯→ user 01: i'd so buy it tbh

→ yourusername: pepemartiofficial kimi.antonelli olliebearman jakcrawford_ zane.maloney isackhadjar dennis_hauger

⎯→ paularon_: why are you @ ing the whole grid

⎯→ yourusername: to slut shame you

→ pepemartiofficial: did you lose your shirt over the summer?

→ olliebearman: go eat a burger (save somes baddies for the rest of us)

→ jakcrawford_: we get it, ur buff with a huge dick

⎯→ user 02:: how do u know that…

⎯→ yourusername: I can vouch for

→ isackhadjar: put a bra on slut

⎯→ yourusername: I don’t even think mines will fit him

#f1 #f2 #formula 1 #formula 2 #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri #max verstappen x reader #ollie bearman x reader #oliver bearman x reader #paul aron x reader #xmas celly!#formula 1 smau #formula 2 smau

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cloudedangels · 11 days ago

Text

Caleb accidentally finds your vibrator and curiosity gets the best of him... MDNI 18+ !!! DUH!

3,929 words!! Oops!!! This was supposed to be a one-shot but I got extremely carried away (・・;)

This one is different than usual it took like 6 days... happy birthday birthday boy ily

Tags/cws: voyeurism, app-controlled toy, vibrator play, remote control, mutual consent, soft domination, emotional tension, powerplay, grinding, lap sitting, overstimulation, teasing, orgasm control, begging, post-orgasm intimacy, dirtiest dirty talk, filthy sweet, deeply intimate, character-driven smut, creampie, desperate sex, body worship, (nicknames including pips(queak) duh sorry not sorry.

It starts innocently.

Caleb’s folding your laundry like he always used to—perfect corners, sleeves aligned, like the fabric might get offended if he didn’t treat it right. You’re in the shower, steam softening the air, and he’s out there, helping. Like nothing’s changed.

But then he opens the wrong drawer.

Not wrong exactly. Just not where you’d have wanted him to go.

You weren’t hiding it, exactly. Just... tucking it away. Inside a sock.

Stupid. Lazy. A mistake. Because now he’s holding it in his hand.

You don’t hear any of this, of course. You’re humming softly under the water, dragging shampoo through your hair, while Caleb—sweet, curious, too-smart Caleb—stares down at the bright pink, silicone curve resting in his palm.

It vibrates when he touches the button.

He jumps, and then freezes.

His first thought isn’t what it is. Not really. He just stares at it, confused, before his brain catches up.

“Oh… fuck.”

Definitely a vibrator. Yours.

He sets it down like it’s radioactive, rubs his hand on his pants, and immediately picks it up again. His face burns hot. His throat’s dry. And he shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But his fingers move faster than his shame.

He opens his camera and scans it.

The image search is mercilessly fast.

“Lovense Lush 2: App-controlled wearable vibrator. Remote-operated. Hands-free.”

Remote-operated.

His stomach knots.

He reads. Scrolls. Reads more.

Synced vibrations. Custom patterns. Long-distance partner control. Phone access. Live syncing. Music-matching mode.

His cock twitches in his jeans.

Has someone else used it with you? Has someone controlled it for you? Did you sit on this very bed and let someone else make you come from miles away?

Or… did you just do it yourself?

Did you pull up the app with trembling fingers, thighs clenched, face flushed, and think of… him? When he was away?

He shouldn’t even be in this drawer, but now he’s hard, his mouth’s dry, and he needs to know.

He downloads the app—just to see... Just to understand. At least, that’s what he tells himself as it installs. That’s the excuse.

When it opens, the interface is sleek and pink, deceptively innocent. A smooth control dial. Pattern options. Bluetooth connection.

And one bright button:

“Connect to Device.”

He hesitates… then clicks it.

The toy hums faintly in his hand.

And then: “Caleb?”

Your voice cuts through the air like a knife.

He panics, dropping the vibrator into the pile of laundry like it’s on fire, locking his phone screen too late. When you walk into the room—damp, towel-wrapped, soft from the shower—his face is red.

You slow when you see him. You pause.

Then you see the drawer, and the sock, a little too unfolded, and him, sitting on the edge of your bed, face flushed, thighs spread.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “You didn’t.”

He tries. He tries to play it cool. But his voice is too calm, too even.

“Didn’t what?”

“You found it?”

He glances toward the drawer. “Maybe.”

“You weren’t supposed to—Caleb!” You grip the towel tighter, heart racing, throat dry. “You were supposed to fold T-shirts!”

“That drawer was open.”

“And you decided to… investigate?”

He tilts his head. “I was curious.”

Your jaw drops. “Curious? You downloaded the app?”

“I didn’t say I did.”

“You totally did.”

He smirks, just a little. It’s smug. Dangerous. Too aware. “It connects through Bluetooth, you know.”

“I KNOW HOW IT WORKS.”

His eyes drop—slow, lazy—to your bare legs under the towel. He doesn’t move from the bed. His phone is still in his hand.

“Why’d you hide it?” he asks softly. “Were you embarrassed?”

You go stiff. “I—I wasn’t hiding it—just—just—storing it. In a sock. For… safety.”

His gaze is devastating, his eyes bore through you. “...Safety?”

You hate how hot your face is. Hate how shaky your voice is when you try to take the upper hand.

“You’re… seriously? You’re such a perv, Caleb, you can’t just—just dig through my drawers and—and play with things—”

“Play with things?”

You glare. You want to sound furious. You probably just sound breathless.

“Who controls it when you use it?” he asks, voice quieter now. “Is it just you?”

You stare at him, trembling.

“Do you give access to anyone else?”

Your chest tightens. Your breath stutters.

The towel suddenly feels too thin. You don’t know what to say.

You’re too exposed. And he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Answer the question,” he murmurs.

“W-Why are you even asking?”

“Because the thought of you using that,” he says, voice hushed and thick, “without me knowing… kills me.”

He opens the app.

Your eyes widen.

“Caleb, don’t—”

The toy hums from the laundry.

Your legs tremble. The vibration is faint—but you can hear it. You know it.

You gasp, knees nearly buckling. “You—!”

He doesn’t move from the bed, he just sits and watches you. His voice is careful. Curious.

“What do you think?”

“Turn it off!” you snap, voice shaky.

“Say please.”

Your jaw drops.

“You—” You can't finish. The flustered heat crawling up your spine makes your words fail.

He stands slowly, towering in front of you now, his phone still in hand, his cock hard beneath his jeans. He leans in close, his voice a husky whisper.

“…So this is what you like, hm?”

Your stomach flips. You can’t speak.

Your mouth opens—no words come.

He’s too close. Close enough to smell the faint hint of clean laundry on his shirt, the musk of his cologne softened by the heat of your skin. Your heart hammers in your throat like it wants to escape.

“Should I get it for you?” Caleb repeats, his voice quiet, careful, curling with heat at the edges. “Is that what you want?”

You shake your head, once, sharp. “You’re an ass.”

He smiles at that—lazy, dangerous. “And yet you’re trembling.”

“I just got out of the shower.”

“Sure,” he murmurs, eyes flicking down to your legs again, where the towel’s started to shift with the motion of your thighs. You’re pressed so tightly together it’s like you’re trying to stop the vibration that’s not even touching you. Just hearing it has you on edge.

He taps his phone screen. The hum fades.

You exhale shakily, trying to step back—but his hand lifts. Doesn’t touch. Just hovers in the space between your bare shoulder and the towel’s edge.

“...Was it for you?” he asks quietly. “The toy. Was it for when I wasn’t here?”

You go still.

His eyes flicker up to yours, something almost nervous beneath the teasing now... a real question... and maybe that’s worse.

“I—” you start, but your voice catches. You clear your throat. “I don’t owe you an answer.”

“No,” he says, gently. “You don’t.”

You hate that he respects that. Hate how it makes you want to answer anyway.

You glance at the bed. It's rumpled from laundry, and the drawer is still half open. That stupid fucking sock, limp. The vibrator, pink and obscene in its neat little pile of folded cotton.

“You weren’t supposed to find it,” you say, voice thin. “It’s… private.”

Caleb nods slowly. “But you kept it close.”

Your brows knit. “What’s that supposed to mean?"

His eyes are soft. Hungry. “You could’ve hidden it better. Somewhere I’d never look. But you didn’t. You left it where I’d find it… maybe.”

“I didn’t—” You stop. Realize the truth of it halfway through your denial.

Maybe you hadn’t hidden it very well on purpose.

He sees the flicker in your expression. His gaze darkens.

“I think you wanted me to know,” he murmurs. “Or maybe just… wanted me to wonder.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Every inch of you is tight and hot and pulsing. You're wet and not wearing anything to catch it. Self conscious.

Caleb leans just a little closer, head tilted, breath warm against your ear, “Let me try it… I've been very bad, let me make it up to you…”

You almost say no. You want to say no. (You don't. You're trying to lie to yourself though).

But your thighs are clenched. Your breath is shallow. And you hate how close you are to saying yes just because he asked like that.

“…You’re ridiculous,” you whisper, voice cracking.

He hums, low and amused. “Maybe. But I’m still asking.”

You close your eyes. His breath ghosts your cheek. You feel him before he even touches you—heat and presence and the slow throb of your pulse answering his.

“And if I say no?”

“I’ll turn it off,” he murmurs. “Put it back. Never speak of it again.”

Liar.

You open your eyes. He’s close, but not touching. His hands are still at his sides. His phone glows faintly in his palm. He looks flushed, a little wild, but he hasn’t pushed.

He’s letting you decide.

But his gaze… his gaze is asking all the questions his mouth won’t. Would you let him? Would you let him push that little thing inside you and sit across the room—watching, controlling, listening? Would you whimper if he turned it too high? Would you beg for more?

You clench without meaning to. The ache between your legs is embarrassing.

You’re silent too long.

He tilts his head, and for the first time his voice slips past teasing into soft—sincere.

“…Do you want it, pipsqueak?”

That name. It makes you stupid. Weak. Warm all the way down.

You nod once, tiny. Almost ashamed.

“…Yes.”

He exhales slowly, relief softening his jaw. His eyes flicker toward the bed, the folded laundry, the drawer still ajar.

“Then come here,” he says quietly.

You hesitate.

“I’ll be good,” he promises. “I’ll go slow.”

Your feet move before your brain catches up. You drop the towel when you reach him, and he doesn’t react—not at first. Steel. His eyes stay on your face, and just your face. Like he’s waiting for permission to look.

So you tilt your chin up. Just slightly.

His eyes drop.

And fuck—you feel it, the weight of his gaze like a hand between your thighs.

“You’re not wearing anything under that towel,” he murmurs. “Were you going to get dressed before I saw you?”

“…I didn’t think I’d need to.”

He smiles faintly. “You don’t.”

Caleb kneels in front of you.

No rush, no show, down on his knees like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The phone rests on the bed. The toy sits in his hand.

“You still sure?”

You nod.

“Say it.”

“…I want it.”

He kisses the inside of your knee.

“Sit.”

You do. Slowly. Shaky.

He parts your legs and gently sets the toy on the bed between them. Then he kisses the inside of your thigh. Once. Twice. And then again—higher.

“I’ll put it in,” he says. “You just stay still.”

You nod, dazed, already breathless. The anticipation is worse than anything.

He lifts the toy. Clicks the button. It hums softly in his hand.

“Lay back for me,” he murmurs.

You do. The sheets are cold against your skin, and you’re trembling now, fully exposed, legs open. You hear the shuffle of fabric—he’s taken off his hoodie—and then his fingers are brushing up your thigh again, light.

“Lift your hips.”

You obey.

His fingers part your folds and you gasp—sharp, wet, startled.

“You’re soaked,” he says, almost reverent. “Was it the idea of me finding this? Or the fact that I did?"

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your face is hot and your eyes are fluttering.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I’ll make it feel good.”

He slides the toy in, your wetness guiding it through. It’s bigger than you remember the egg goes in, bigger and smoother, the tail hanging, curled up against your clit, but it still stretches you slightly, suddenly. You let out a soft whimper at the intrusion.

“Too much?” he asks immediately, hand on your knee.

You shake your head, gasping. “No… it’s okay…”

He exhales. And then…

The toy buzzes to life.

You moan.

Your hips jolt, thighs tensing as the toy hums deep inside you, steady and quiet but so fucking present. Caleb’s still kneeling beside the bed, watching your body react, his hand firm on your thigh.

“Jesus,” he whispers.

You bite your lip and try to squirm.

He touches your knee to still you. “Stay.”

The vibration shifts—he’s changing the pattern.

It pulses now. Short bursts. Then a long one.

You can’t help it—you arch your back, a whimper catching in your throat.

He looks transfixed. His free hand curls into the sheets like he’s grounding himself.

“You like that?” he murmurs. “You’re already dripping. I haven’t even touched your clit.”

You want to snap at him, say of course I like it, but all that comes out is a shaky, “Fuck…”

Caleb leans in. His lips ghost over your stomach, then lower. His breath hits your inner thigh as he speaks:

“I want to know how many patterns it has. I want to know which one makes you cry.”

You moan. You can’t not.

“And I want to be the one holding the dial every single time.”

You reach for him blindly, your hand tangling in his hair.

He growls softly. “Tell me what you want, pips...”

You can't. He pulls back so that he can see you. He’s quiet for a long moment, just watching you.

Your legs are spread, the pink tail of the vibrator curled against your clit like a secret. You’re trying to stay still, thighs trembling, your breathing light and high. The toy pulses again—gentle, teasing. You gasp.

Caleb’s jaw is clenched.

His knuckles are white around his phone.

And he’s hard.

You can see it now, the outline in his jeans obvious, obscene. He’s kneeling beside the bed, but it’s clear in the way he shifts… his hips twitching forward like his body’s begging, even if his mouth stays quiet.

He breathes through his nose, slow, trying to control himself.

And fails.

“Sit on my lap,” he whispers. His voice is strained. Rough. “Just like this. I want to feel it. I need to feel it.”

Your lips part. “Caleb—”

“I won’t touch it,” he promises quickly. “I won’t even move. I just—” His hand flexes against the mattress. “Please.”

You nod, stunned by the heat in his voice, and he helps you—guiding you with both hands, gentle, reverent. You climb into his lap, careful not to jostle the toy too much, your knees on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He leans back slightly, hands on your hips to balance you. His face is flushed, pupils wide, lips parted.

Then the toy buzzes. It's sharp and low and deep inside you. You let out a soft moan and collapse against him, forehead to his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he chokes out.

You feel it—the way your body vibrates through him. The way the hum travels from your cunt to his lap, pressed flush against his cock through two layers of fabric. His hips jerk instinctively.

He groans into your neck.

“Oh my god,” he breathes. “You’re shaking.”

You are.

Everything is hot and melting and pulsing. It’s perfect and torture, a slick, slow throb building in your stomach. You rock your hips just once—barely—and he moans like you bit him.

“Don’t,” he gasps, fingers digging into your hips. “Don’t do that—fuck—”

You grin against his throat. “You said I could sit.”

“You’re greedy,” he hisses. “You’re…fuck…you’re evil…”

You clench around the toy, pressing it in with the bulge of his cock. He bucks up beneath you with a sharp, broken groan, like he’s being pulled apart cell by cell.

You feel drunk on the power for a moment, and he’s falling apart.

“Can you take more?” he whispers, pulling the phone up again with a shaking hand.

You hesitate… but you nod. “Yeah…”

He turns the dial up, carefully and not all the way. Just enough.

It purrs inside you now, every pulse kissing your walls, grinding against your most sensitive places with perfect pressure. Your hips jerk.

You whimper into his neck. “Caleb—”

His hands stroke your back. He’s panting. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You moan. Loud. Thoughtless.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans. “You’re dripping. Right on me. On my jeans. My cock…”

You bury your face in his collarbone, trying to hold still. Trying not to move. But it’s so hard. It feels so good.

“You’re making a mess,” he pants. “You’re fucking soaked, baby, oh my god—”

You can feel his cock under you, twitching, trapped and leaking. You rock forward a little on accident and he shudders, groaning ragged into your neck.

“Stop—don’t—I’ll come if you do that again—”

“You haven’t even touched me,” you whisper, dizzy.

“I am touching you,” he groans. “You’re on me. You’re fucking trembling all over me, I can feel every—” He cuts off with a moan, hands gripping you tighter. “Fuck—fuck—you’re gonna come, aren’t you?”

“I—” You can’t even form words. The pressure is building too fast, too sharp, and the way his voice sounds in your ear is tipping you over the edge.

“Come for me,” he whispers, raw and wrecked. “Right here. Just like this. Come with me under you, baby. Use it. Use me.”

You do.

You cry out, hips jerking and grinding, legs locking as the orgasm tears through you. It's fast, electric, too much. The toy keeps going, humming inside you while your body pulses around it, breath ragged, muscles tensed. Caleb groans as you come undone in his lap, his cock pinned between you, the wet heat of your release soaking through both your bodies.

You collapse against him, twitching. He catches you instantly. Holds you. Breathes through it.

His lips press to your temple, worshipping.

“You’re unreal,” he whispers. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

You smile, dazed.

“I hope so,” you murmur.

He chuckles. Then shifts just enough to press his hips up into yours. You can feel how hard he still is. How desperate.

Your grin returns.

“You want me to take care of you now?” you whisper sweetly.

He groans into your neck.

“Don’t tease me,” he pants. “I begged for that. You know me.”

You tilt your head and kiss him. Once. Soft. Deep.

“I know.”

Caleb's shaky breath is warm in your ear as he pulls you close, arms around your waist. “Are you too overstimulated for…” He pauses, voice breaking as he feels you shift in his lap. “Fuck. I want to be inside you.”

Your head turns slightly, cheek pressed to his shoulder. Your breath is hot. “Then do it.”

His breath catches.

“You’re sure?”

You nod, weak, your voice like silk barely clinging to your throat. “I’m dripping for you, Caleb. What the fuck do you think?”

He groans. The noise is wrecked, shaky, as he flips you so gently you almost don’t feel it until you’re on your back again. His hands are everywhere: your thighs, your hips, your waist. His eyes are molten, blown black with need, but his fingers stay careful, as he's pulling the toy out with a slick pop that makes you whimper.

You feel so empty when it’s gone. But not for long.

He fumbles with his jeans, breath ragged as he yanks them down just enough to free his cock…and then... fuck...

You both look.

He’s so hard. Veined and thick, flushed deep with need. The tip is wet and twitching and leaking, and you stare, wide-eyed and stunned.

You’d forgotten how big he is. Or maybe you just didn’t realize how needy your body was now. How soft and open he’d already made you.

He presses forward, then slides in.

You both gasp. It’s obscene how easy he goes in. No resistance. Just slick, tight, hot pressure and then full, stuffed, stretched around him like your body was already waiting for this. Begging for it.

“Holy fuck,” Caleb chokes. He’s not moving. Just inside, balls-deep, jaw slack, hips trembling. “You’re—you’re already this wet? You—shit, I can’t—I can’t believe this—”

You moan, helpless, legs wrapping around his waist, hands grabbing at his back. “Move—please, Caleb, you have to—”

He jerks forward with a groan and pulls out an inch—just enough to see his cock shining with you—then slams back in. You cry out.

“Oh my god,” he breathes. “You’re taking me—so fucking easy, baby—fuck, this pussy—” Another thrust, sharp and deep. You arch. “You’re already open for me. That toy got you ready, didn’t it? Got you all soft and dripping, just so I could fuck you like this.”

“Y-yeah,” you gasp. “Fuck—please, don’t stop—”

“Greedy little thing,” he growls, voice hoarse with disbelief. “You wanted me to find it. You wanted me hard and jealous and ready to ruin you. You fucking planned this.”

You shake your head, whining. “Didn’t—just—just didn’t hide it—”

“Same fucking thing,” he snarls into your neck, slamming into you faster now. “You know what it does to me. Fuck, you know—you knew I’d lose it. And now look—”

He pounds into you, relentless, each thrust punching air from your lungs. Your nails dig into his back as you try to hold on, but he’s not giving you a break, not now.

“I can’t believe how good you take it,” he growls. “So fucking wet. I’m sliding in like it’s nothing—nothing, baby, you’re sucking me in like you missed this.”

You sob out a moan, your whole body thrumming. You’re stretched wide, filled to the brim, stuffed so good you can’t think.

“I did,” you cry. “I did, Caleb—I missed it… Your perfect cock…”

His rhythm stutters—just a second—and then it gets rougher. Harder. Messier.

“I’ll give it to you,” he pants. “Every time. Whenever you want. I’ll fuck you open and ruin you, baby, I'll take good care of you… you don’t ever have to beg again.”

He pulls out almost all the way and slams back in, and you scream.

He presses his forehead to yours, breath coming in sharp, hot gasps. “You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?”

“I—I can’t—”

“You will. I feel it. I feel you clenching on me—fuck—you love it raw, don’t you? No condom, just skin to skin, me buried in your fucking pussy like I belong there—”

“You do,” you gasp.

That breaks him.

He snaps his hips, brutal and desperate. “You’re gonna come. You’re gonna come with me, and I’m not gonna pull out—I’m gonna fill you up.”

The sound you make isn’t even a word. It’s raw. Wet. Animal.

He’s soaked—you’re soaked—your arousal painting his cock, his thighs, pooling under you. He can barely breathe.

You’re clenching, right on the edge again, thighs trembling.

He sees it. Feels it.

“Come, baby,” he begs, forehead still against yours. “Come for me, pipsqueak. Let me feel you—fuck, I wanna feel you milk my cock—”

You snap.

Your walls spasm around him, tight and fluttering, your body locking up as your orgasm rips through you. You sob, moan, scream—you don’t even know what sound you make. Just that it drags him with you.

Caleb cries out your name like it hurts. Like worship.

His cock jerks and he thrusts once, twice—and then he’s coming. Deep inside. Hot, thick pulses of it, flooding you while your body still twitches around him. He groans into your neck, shaky, broken, lost.

You hold each other.

Breathless. Destroyed. Connected.

After a long moment, he whispers against your skin:

“You’re never using that thing without me again.”

You laugh, weak and giddy, and pull him closer.

“Deal.”

#love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #lads caleb #caleb x mc #caleb #caleb smut #caleb lads smut #lads caleb smut #lads smut #caleb xia #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace smut

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itsrlymine · 29 days ago

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omg hi, you literally changed my life for the better and I have the BIGGEST success story to share, so thank you and thanks to @/blushydior because I owe you both everything :)

so to start off I've known about the law for YEARS, fucking 2020 until now, and at first it was simple because all I knew was "affirm and persist." that's what I would do and I was literally manifesting left and right like I got a new car for my dad, food, grades, friends, just things that I thought were "small." then I found this community and lord I've seen it all, I've read hundreds and hundreds of success stories about people manifesting their dream life in a week, overnight, 3 days, in such short time spans and learned about the hundreds of terms being thrown around like 3d, 4d, void, states, i was literally a walking encyclopedia for loablr. I would scroll for hours and hours and hours, affirming and persisting but I never really decided it was mine. I worried too much about the time passing, my feelings, my circumstances, I felt powerless and kinda gave up.

then when I was applying to colleges, I desperately wanted to get into the best college in my state, it's literally a top 25 school and was extremely prestigious to get into with a low acceptance rate. I heard about other people in my grade applying there, but I was a bit skeptical because I wasn't in the same classes, I didn't really think I was qualified enough to get into that university. but honestly, I didn't care, I just decided that I would get into it. my application was kinda shitty and my essays weren't that good, but then I got the email saying that I was accepted, and I was allowed to start a semester early!

even though I got into the university I wanted, I still wanted to live my dream life but it felt too impossible, like I was just dreaming too big. I love college life but honestly the grades and the work and the "busy-ness" of it all was starting to feel overwhelming, and the thought of having to live a boring and mundane corporate life was worse than death. then I found your blog when you first started, and I read ur posts over and over and over but didn't really understand how simple it was. then I re-read the success story about how @/blushydior manifested her life and everything suddenly made sense. nothing mattered other than the fact that I knew that I had everything. nothing's impossible, nothing was too big or too small, I just knew that I had everything I ever wanted and there was nothing else left to do. I logged out of my Tumblr account so I wouldn't be comparing myself to other people's success stories and just remembered that all I had to do was decide I had what I wanted, and nothing could stop me from getting what I want because I already have it.

long story short, I decided that I would wake up with everything I could have ever wanted, and I did. I cried, I worried, I was wondering if I could possibly do it but I stood my ground and said no, I have everything that I want. now I have the beauty, the intelligence, the money, the fame, the love, the luxuries I could only dream of having. i have so many things I would once dream of having, but now they are all mine. I'm still in shock but not really, because they were all mine from the very beginning, because I decided they were.

my life is now amazing, perfect, and so fun and fulfilling. all because I decided. decide what you want and know that nothing can stop you from having what you want, because it is already yours. why would you worry about getting what you want if you already have it?

"why would you worry about getting what you want if you already have it?" LITERALLY THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS OMGG YES. this makes me so happy bc it's truly so simple. just remind yourself you have it already bc you do! it doesn't matter how you feel emotionally, you still have it.

#anon ask #itsrlymine #law of assumption #imagination is reality #loa tumblr #success story #loa success story #loa success #manifesting success #lawofassumption #manifesting #loassumption

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wosospacegirl · 16 days ago

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Hiya mate!, Can I have a request maybe a Leah x reader or Alexia x reader. Where the reader join the current girlfriend trend and video their reaction..... Thank you

Love all the fic you made love lots

Current girlfriend- Alexia Putellas / Leah Williamson

I couldn't choose between my captains, so I did a little thing for both of them - two separate blurbs in one.

Word count: 1.7

Alexia Putellas

You weren't really someone who posted a lot on social media. Not when you were a teen, and absolutely not now that you dated Barcelona's golden girl.

Alexia liked her privacy. She liked knowing there were things the fans, the media, and the world didn't know. Your relationship wasn't necessarily one of those things. She didn't keep you tucked away in some apartment, hidden from everyone and everything.

No, she didn't mind being seen walking down the streets with you; she couldn't care less about the cameras in her face when a game ended, and you had come down to the pitch to hug her.

She just didn't like leaving much of a digital footprint, and you were the same way. You liked to keep some things just between the two of you.

But oh. When you saw that little TikTok prank, you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to try it, but you also didn't like the whole world seeing it…the camera would give away parts of your shared home, and that was something just for you two and the people closest to you.

So you decided to film it just for yourself. That way, you could still participate in the trend, keep yours and Alexia's privacy intact, but the prank would have to be tweaked a little.

You tucked the phone into one of the sofa pillows. Didn't have to hide it much, Alexia was terrible at noticing things she wasn't actively looking for.

You sat on the sofa and gave the camera one last look. Great, the frame was perfect.

"Ale, come here!"

Alexia was getting ready for training, focused, in her usual headspace, and of course, you had to mess with her. Just a little.

She said something back from upstairs that you couldn't make out, but then she appeared a few minutes later. And she looked so beautiful with her training jersey on, it made you wanna keep her to yourself.

"So I have this small party at work this Saturday, can you go with me?" You asked gently.

Alexia's face softened. "No lo sé, cariño, tengo que revisar mi agenda" [I don’t know, love, I have to check my schedule.]

You were very used to that response, you expected it even, so you just smiled back, leaning even further into the sofa, you were just getting comfortable.

"Well…as my current girlfriend–" you pretended to cough so it would give her some time to comprehend and let the word settle in. "--you need to be present! It's at 7 pm."

Alexia's smile faltered a bit, and you could see that she was caught between a mix of "did I hear that right?" with "that can't possibly be true."

"Qué?" [What?] She said, her eyebrows furrowing. She was so confused, it was funny and cute at the same time.

"Dinner, at 7 pm, amor," you repeated, but not the part she clearly wanted. "But if you can't go, it's alright…"

"No, no," she shook her head. "Current? Current girlfriend?"

Bingo

"Yes?"

"No? Why current? We've been dating for three years." She said, her voice a little impatient now, as if she was asking herself why she even needed to be saying that.

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't change anything, we are still CURRENTLY dating," you emphasised the word.

Alexia moved on her heels, she opened her mouth, and then closed it again. She looked at you, then looked at her training bag on the floor.

"No me gustó eso," she said. "Not current.. solo novia, okay?" [I don't like that/ just girlfriend, okay?]

The pout on her face was so extremely cute that you weren't able to keep your composure. You got up from the sofa and wrapped your arms around her.

For a few seconds, she stood there, arms crossed, but then she gave in.

"I don't like that word," she mumbled against your shoulder, her voice almost in a whine. "Current makes it sound temporary."

You couldn't help the smile spreading across your face as you held her tighter. "I know, baby. I'm sorry."

"We're not temporary," she pulled back just enough to look at you, that little pout still there. "Sí?"

"No, we're definitely not temporary." You said, kissing her whole face.

She studied your face for a moment. "Wait..." Her eyes narrowed. "You're smiling too much. Why are you…"

Her gaze moved around the room and landed on the phone peeking out from the pillow. Okay, maybe Alexia did have some hidden ability to find phones, actually.

"Ay, por Dios," she groaned, but you caught the corner of her mouth twitching. "You filmed this?"

"Maybe."

"Qué tonta eres…" [You are such a dork] she said, fighting a smile. "Delete it."

"I was already planning to," you laughed, pulling her even closer. "It was just for me anyway. I wanted to see if I could make Barcelona's golden girl pout."

"I don't pout."

"Hmm." You kissed her forehead. "You definitely pout."

She huffed against your neck, but her arms tightened around you. "Next time you want to mess with me, just ask for attention like a normal person."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Leah Williamson

You were bored out of your mind. It was a rainy afternoon. It was grey, cold, and your girlfriend had some annoying thing she had to attend to. Meaning: it wasn't a great day at all.

Leah needed to be at some Lionesses' dinner, one to welcome the new girls who had just received their first senior call-up.

You weren't allowed to go since plus ones weren't permitted, so you decided last minute that you would go to some café and do something. You just didn't want to stay home alone.

You had a couple of uni assignments that needed to be done, some research you had to complete for your internship the other day, but the day was already depressing as it was…you didn't need to bring more of that into your already grey day.

So drinking very expensive coffee and delicious pastries was the right answer. Plus, Leah felt bad that you couldn't go with her and had given you her card.

Your life had been so uneventful lately. With Leah's tight schedule and your responsibilities, you two couldn't go out much or spend the amount of time together that you would like. So you thought, why not make today a little different?

You weren't an influencer, per se, but you had a fair share of followers on Instagram, so why not do a little Instagram Live while you got ready for your outing and Leah got ready for hers? It was June–Pride month–and nothing better to celebrate it than showing off your very hot, very English Captain, Champions-winner girlfriend.

You had your dress on already, and Leah was doing her hair on the other side of the room. She looked pretty. She was wearing mom jeans, a plain white shirt, and a black leather jacket on top of that, you knew your followers would thank you for showing Leah and her outfit.

Again, very Pride Month. Very much gay.

You had obviously asked Leah if it was okay for her to show up in the live stream. She said yes (she always did whenever you asked her to film something with you), so you propped your phone on top of your makeup organiser and pressed play.

In a few minutes, you had a couple of hundred people watching you, to say the least. You began talking about random stuff, nothing really important, just about your day and your routine.

Leah would casually walk behind you, stopping just long enough to wrap her arms around you and kiss your head before disappearing again, looking for her shoes or bag.

The people watching the live went crazy whenever Leah showed up. It was honestly funny, the amount of fire emojis running up and down on your screen.

Then, a comment popped up asking you to do a prank on Leah, the "Current Girlfriend" prank. The comment quickly disappeared among a hundred others, but it was enough time for you to read it and decide that you were going to do it.

"Leah," you said, looking at her while putting your lipstick on. "Come stand with me for a bit."

Leah was in a very good mood, so she did it quickly and without complaining. She stood by your side and wrapped one arm around your waist, bringing you closer. She kissed the top of your head while looking at the camera.

You decided that was the perfect moment.

"Well, my current girlfriend and I look so fine today and—"

"Current?" Leah interrupted, looking down at you, using the same voice she used when she was surprised. "Okay, wow!"

"What?" you asked, trying to sound clueless, which you were very good at.

"Current girlfriend?" Leah lifted her eyebrows cockily, as if she couldn't believe what was happening. "Who are you talking about? Not me, I'm sure."

"Of course I'm talking about you!" you said, looking at the phone, and then back at her. "Aren't you my current girlfriend?"

She laughed. Really laughed as you were trying to keep an emotionless face.

"I don't understand you," you said. "What's so funny?"

"You," Leah said. "You are funny, silly even, saying things like 'current girlfriend' as if you want to have a different girlfriend in the future."

"I never said that!" You smiled at her before pecking her lips, leaving your lipstick stain on her mouth. "You're being dramatic."

"Me? Dramatic?" Leah asked, pointing at herself, "You're messing with me, aren't you? That can't be possible."

You turned back to your mirror, the Instagram Live still going strong. You picked up some blush, applying it while watching Leah through the reflection.

Leah was so annoyingly confident that it was nearly impossible to pull these types of pranks on her. She didn't get annoyed or mad, she would actually laugh about how ridiculous it all sounded.

"Well…" She watched you through the mirror, making eye contact and putting two fingers in front of her mouth with that knowing look. She knew exactly how much you liked that gesture. "Maybe I should start looking for a future and steady girlfriend since this one–"

Now it was your turn to interrupt her. You rolled your eyes dramatically.

"Don't even finish that sentence," you warned, pointing the blush brush in her direction. "It was all a prank, okay?"

"Oh yeah?" she said, turning to face the phone screen with that smirk of hers. "I didn't even notice, baby." She winked at the camera. "Your girl's not as slick as she thinks she is."

a/n: hope you guys liked it!!

Tag list: @footy-lover264, @fortifyde, @naomigirmadefender, @neutraiise, @milkveed, @browercc, @ace-of-baked, @ikzzzya, @sky-the-trans-guy00, @knight-16, @wosohk04, @evaissleepy13, @papimapileon, @unpoppablebubbles @whiskeredshrimp-blog

#woso x reader #woso fanfic #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas x reader #leah williamson fanfic #leah williamson x reader

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edenarchives · 2 months ago

Text

♯┆𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓! 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑.ᐟ — 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Life after the industry is sweet—until Bakugo gets an offer to go back. When he hesitates, you walk out… carrying a secret that changes everything.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: angst with a happy ending, implied past sex work, unplanned pregnancy, emotional hurt/comfort, soft makeup sex, begging, praise, consent-focused, creampie, reader throws up (morning sickness), crying, reader leaves briefly, Bakugo is a dumb boy who learns, extremely soft post-fight intimacy

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟗.𝟑𝐤

PART TWO

You weren’t sure what life would feel like after walking away from everything—the lights, the cameras, the noise. But somehow, it just… slowed down. In the best way.

You and Bakugo had been out of the industry for a few months now. No more early call times. No more scripts. No more wiping off fake sweat between takes or answering awkward fan questions about chemistry that wasn’t real.

This was real.

Waking up in the same bed every morning. Grocery shopping at weird hours because you forgot milk again. Fighting over what kind of laundry detergent to use and then fucking against the dryer before the load was even done. Real.

The money still sat in your account, untouched for the most part. He had more than enough saved, and you did too. And neither of you really talked about it, but you both knew it wasn’t about the money anymore. It was about being able to touch each other without someone yelling cut. About hearing him whisper mine into your skin and knowing it meant something.

The house was small, still half-furnished, still smelled like paint in the corners. But it was yours. It was home.

And every morning started the same.

With him.

Somewhere between the weight of his arm around your waist and the sound of birds outside the window, you always woke up like this—wrapped up in him, skin tangled with sheets that still smelled like the two of you. The house would be quiet. The air just a little cool. And for a few perfect minutes, neither of you had anywhere to be. No makeup to do. No lines to memorize. Just warmth, skin, and the steady rise and fall of his chest pressed against your back.

Sometimes he’d murmur something against your neck—half-asleep nonsense, soft and mumbled and way too sweet for someone who once used the words “tight little cunt” on camera like it was poetry.

Sometimes he didn’t say anything at all. Just held you.

And other times, like right now…

It would start with the feeling of his cock pressed right up against your ass, hard and heavy and twitching through his briefs, like he’d been dreaming about you again His arm is still around your waist, palm splayed wide and warm over your stomach, and his nose is buried in your neck, breath slow and steady. You don’t even open your eyes. Just smirk to yourself and shift your hips back, rubbing against him, slow and lazy, until he groans softly in his sleep.

You feel his hand twitch where it rests against your stomach, sliding a little lower, like his body’s already clocked in even if his mind hasn’t caught up yet. His fingers dip below your navel, brushing the waistband of your panties. You wiggle your hips again, a little bolder this time, grinding back against the thick shape of him until he groans again—louder this time, awake now, mouth brushing your skin as he shifts behind you.

“You tryna start something?” he mumbles, voice low and scratchy with sleep.

You smile. “You’re the one poking me.”

He groans, presses a kiss to your shoulder, and slides his hand down over your panties, cupping you fully. His voice is lower now, all gravel and hunger. “You’re already wet.”

“Maybe I had a good dream.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. “You always dream about me?”

“Only when you don’t hog the blanket.”

His hand slips under the waistband without warning, two fingers dragging through the slick heat between your thighs. He groans again, deeper now, fingers spreading you open like he owns it. “Fuck. You’re soaked.”

You shiver, breath catching as he teases your clit with lazy circles. “Then do something about it.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You want it like this? All slow and sleepy?”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as he strokes you a little deeper. “Want you, Katsuki. Just like this.”

You feel his smile against your neck. Then his fingers are gone, and he’s tugging your panties down with one hand, pushing them down your thighs until you kick them off with a soft little whine. He presses himself up against you again, grinding slow against your ass, his cock rock-hard under the thin cotton of his briefs.

“Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Feel how bad I need you?”

You reach behind you, sliding your hand between your bodies, finding the waistband of his briefs and pushing them down just enough to free him. His cock presses hot and heavy against your bare skin now, and he groans at the contact, rolling his hips until he’s sliding between your thighs, not inside, just rubbing against your slick folds like he’s savoring it.

He doesn’t say anything for a second. Just breathes. You feel the weight of him behind you, wrapped around you, and the thick head of his cock dragging through your wetness slow and easy, again and again, until you’re writhing, your body aching to be filled.

“Please,” you whisper. “Katsuki, I need it.”

He pushes in without a word.

One long, deep stroke, slow enough that you feel every inch stretch you open, fill you up, sink into you like he’s molding himself to the shape of you from the inside out. Your mouth falls open. He groans into your shoulder, his hand gripping your waist like he’s holding on for dear life.

“God,” he rasps. “You always take me so fuckin’ good.”

You moan, soft and real, grinding your hips back to meet his next thrust. He moves slow at first, dragging out each roll of his hips like he wants to memorize the way you feel wrapped around him. His hand slides up to your chest, palm cupping your breast as he fucks you from behind, lazy and deep, breath hot against your neck.

The room is still dim, light barely leaking through the curtains, and the only sounds are his breath, your moans, the soft slap of skin on skin as he sinks into you over and over again.

“Can’t believe I get to wake up to this,” he mutters, lips against your ear. “To you.”

You whimper. “Katsuki—”

His hand drifts down between your legs again, fingers rubbing slow circles against your clit while he fucks into you, his rhythm never faltering. It’s too much and not enough, overwhelming and perfect all at once.

“You gonna cum for me?” he breathes. “This tight little pussy already clenching on me like she’s close.”

“Yes—fuck, yes—don’t stop—”

He grinds in deep, holds it there, fingers working you just right until you break with a soft cry, your body locking up as the orgasm crashes through you, pulsing around him in slow, aching waves. You hear him groan as you tighten around his cock, and he starts to move again, chasing his own high now, thrusts getting rougher, needier.

“Shit—baby—feels so fuckin’ good—”

You reach behind you, hand tangling in his hair, tugging him closer as he fucks into you harder, faster, until he’s gasping your name and spilling inside you, cock twitching deep as he groans into your neck.

The two of you stay there for a minute—sweaty, breathless, still tangled together, his cock still buried inside you, your skin sticky with heat and sweat and morning light.

Then he shifts, kissing your shoulder again, voice soft. “We’re disgusting.”

You smile. “Speak for yourself.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs. “You’re the one who begged for it.”

You hum, smug. “And I got it.”

He groans and flops onto his back, dragging you with him, letting you settle on top of him, his arms wrapping around your waist like he’s never planning to let go.

You press a kiss to his collarbone, his chest still rising and falling beneath you, warm and steady and safe.

This was everything.

Just you and him and the quiet, and nowhere to be.

Bakugo was still half-asleep beneath you, one hand drifting aimlessly up and down your back, the other tucked under your thigh where it had landed during round one and never left. His cock had softened inside you, but he hadn’t pulled out. You didn’t mind. You liked it like this—slow and messy and full of him. His cum already leaking out of you, cooling against your thighs, but neither of you moved. The sheets were ruined. You didn’t care.

He mumbled something against your hair, too quiet to catch, and you smiled into his chest.

“What?” you asked softly.

“I said,” he repeated, voice rough, “if we keep doing this every morning, we’re gonna go through bedsheets faster than groceries.”

You laughed into his skin. “Then stop cumming in me like a man with a breeding kink.”

He didn’t laugh. Just went still for a second.

You blinked, lifting your head. “I’m joking—Jesus, relax.”

He huffed, but you saw the way his eyes flicked down your body, lingering where you were still connected, sticky and flushed and warm. He didn’t say anything.

“You’re not getting all weird about that now, are you?”

“No,” he muttered.

“Because we’re being careful. And I’m not trying to be barefoot and pregnant with your demon spawn.”

That made him laugh—finally. A real one. Deep and low and warm in his chest. “Yet.”

You rolled your eyes. “Katsuki.”

He kissed you to shut you up, and you let him.

Eventually, you peeled yourselves out of bed and into the shower—half-cleaning, half-groping, ending with him pushing you up against the tile wall and fucking you again while the water ran cold.

By the time you both made it downstairs, it was almost noon.

Bakugo wore grey sweats, no shirt, towel-dried hair messy, and his usual morning scowl soft around the edges from sex and sleep. You were in one of his shirts and nothing else, legs still shaky as you climbed onto the counter while he made coffee.

You were halfway through stealing the last piece of sourdough when his phone buzzed on the kitchen island.

He ignored it at first, focused on trying not to burn the eggs again.

It buzzed again.

You glanced over. “Is that Keigo again?”

“Probably,” he muttered.

He reached for it anyway, flipping it open with one hand, balancing the spatula in the other. You watched his face shift as he scrolled—soft confusion, followed by that little furrow between his brows you knew too well. Not annoyed. Just focused.

“What?” you asked, mouth full.

He didn’t answer.

“Katsuki?”

He tilted the screen toward you.

You squinted at the message, chewing slowly.

An offer.

A comeback scene.

Big budget. New studio. New girl.

One-time shoot.

A rate so high you blinked twice just to make sure you weren’t reading it wrong.

You snorted. “That’s fake.”

“I don’t think it is,” he muttered.

“They must be desperate.”

He didn’t laugh.

You narrowed your eyes. “Wait. You’re not actually—”

“I’m just saying,” he said, still scrolling, tone too calm, too casual. “It’s a lot of money.”

You stared at him.

He looked back.

And something in your chest pulled tight.

“No.”

“I didn’t say yes,” he said quickly.

“But you’re considering it.”

“I’m just—thinking.”

You slid off the counter, toes hitting the cold tile, the hem of his shirt swishing around your thighs. “Thinking about sticking your dick in someone else?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?”

He set the phone down. “It’s a job.”

“Not anymore.”

His jaw tightened. “It’s not like I caught feelings for every scene partner I ever had.”

“It’s not about that anymore,” you snapped. “You’re mine.”

He flinched. Just slightly.

“I left the industry for you,” you said. “We both did. I gave up everything. And now you’re telling me what—we’re one big paycheck away from you crawling back into bed with some new girl for content?”

“It’s not about her.”

“Then what is it? Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you’re willing to throw everything away for a fucking cheque.”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” he said sharply. “It’s a one-time thing.”

“And that makes it better?”

He looked at you then—really looked at you—and for the first time in weeks, he wasn’t soft.

He was calm. Cold.

Like a pro.

Like the guy he used to be.

Your chest ached.

You turned away. “I can’t believe you.”

“Baby—”

“No,” you said, voice low. “Don’t call me that right now.”

The silence hit heavy.

You walked out of the kitchen, footsteps slow, careful, arms crossed over your chest like you were holding yourself together.

He didn’t follow.

You made it to the bathroom, closed the door, sat on the edge of the tub. Your pulse was in your throat. Your head was spinning. You weren’t crying. Not yet. Not even angry.

Just… tired.

So tired.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, taking a deep breath.

And your stomach lurched.

You froze.

Swallowed.

And ran to the toilet just in time to throw up everything you’d eaten.

Your hands gripped the edge of the bowl. The tile was cold against your knees. The bitter taste in your mouth didn’t even register.

You stayed there, trembling, staring at the floor like it might give you answers.

It didn’t.

But something inside you already knew.

Not because of the nausea. Not even because of the skipped period you hadn’t really processed until right now.

But because of the way your body had changed this past week—tired all the time, sore in places that didn’t usually ache, the way your chest felt heavier in the mornings, and how certain smells made you gag for no reason.

And the way he looked at you lately—like something was glowing under your skin and he didn’t know how to name it.

You sat there on the cold tile floor, palms flat against your thighs, trying to breathe through the thought without breaking. It felt impossible. Like the second you gave it space, it would swallow you whole. This huge, terrifying thing growing in the corner of your mind like a secret you weren’t ready to say out loud.

Not even to him.

Especially not now.

Not when he was still in the kitchen.

Still standing there with his phone in his hand, thinking about fucking someone else for a paycheck.

You didn’t even blame him.

Not really.

You knew how much money that was. You knew what it meant to walk away from something like that, how many people would kill for even half that offer. You knew what it meant to be practical.

But you also knew how it would feel.

Watching him strip for someone else. Touch someone else. Pretend to want someone else. Even just for a day. Even just for a scene.

You’d spent years acting. Years pretending. But there was no pretending anymore. Not with him. You’d felt it the first time he touched you and again every time after—this wasn’t a job. Not anymore. It was real. Messy. Beautiful. Yours.

And now this.

Your stomach twisted again, but you didn’t move.

You just sat there, staring at the floor, until your breath finally evened out and your head stopped spinning.

Then, slow and quiet, you got up.

Washed your face. Brushed your teeth. Pulled on some soft shorts and tied your hair up like nothing was wrong.

And then you opened the drawer under the sink, where you’d stuffed a half-used box of pregnancy tests last year during a false alarm.

You stared at it.

Stared through it.

Then you grabbed one, unwrapped it, and sat back down on the toilet like your hands weren’t shaking.

The silence felt louder than it should.

Louder than the party music that used to pulse through your earpiece on set. Louder than the breathy moans you used to fake for the camera.

This was real.

This was just you.

And a little stick that would either ruin everything or explain it all.

You peed on it. Set it on the counter. Washed your hands.

Waited.

You didn’t pace. Didn’t look. Just stood there with your fingers braced against the counter, staring into the sink like you could fall into it.

You told yourself not to check too early. That two minutes wasn’t that long.

But thirty seconds in, you looked anyway.

And there it was.

One line.

Then another.

Faint. Pink. Obvious.

Positive.

The sound you made wasn’t even a gasp. It was quieter than that. A breath, stolen out of your lungs. A sob that never formed.

You sat down again, this time on the closed toilet lid, the test still shaking in your hands.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.

Bakugo was downstairs, somewhere between scrambled eggs and a maybe-cheating debate, and you were upstairs, holding proof that your life was about to split in half.

You pressed a hand to your belly again.

There was nothing there yet. No bump. No flutters. No heartbeat you could feel.

But it was real.

This thing. This tiny, terrifying, impossible thing.

You didn’t cry.

Not yet.

You just sat there.

And realized you had no fucking idea what to do next.

The test sat quiet on the counter like it wasn’t ruining your whole world. Just two pink lines. Faint, delicate, innocent. Like it hadn’t detonated a bomb in your chest.

You stared at it for another minute, hand still flat against your stomach, like you were trying to feel something. A flutter. A kick. A sign. But there was nothing. Just silence and the thick hum of panic under your skin.

You didn’t cry.

Didn’t scream.

You just… stood up. And started moving.

The house was quiet when you stepped out of the bathroom. Still smelled like toast and sex and expensive coffee grounds. You moved slow, careful, like one wrong step might make it all collapse.

He was still downstairs. You could hear him in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets like he was trying to stay busy. Like he was still mad. Still unsure. Still thinking about it.

You didn’t go to him.

You went to the bedroom.

Grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and pulled open the dresser drawers. You didn’t pack much. Just enough. A few outfits. Your charger. Your toothbrush. You weren’t running away. You just needed space. Time. Room to think without his voice in your ear or the weight of his silence in your bed.

You zipped the bag shut and stood there for a second, hand tight around the strap.

This wasn’t about punishing him.

It was about protecting yourself.

And something else now too.

You stepped into the hallway. Your feet felt like bricks. Every part of you wanted to crawl back into bed, pretend you hadn’t seen it. Hadn’t felt it. Hadn’t watched the man you loved seriously consider letting someone else touch him again like it was no big deal.

You made it halfway down the stairs before he saw you.

He looked up from where he stood near the counter, phone in one hand, coffee untouched in the other. His eyes dropped to the bag slung over your shoulder. And his whole body stiffened.

“Where are you going?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Keigo’s.”

He blinked, slow. “What?”

“I texted him,” you said, voice quiet but steady. “He said I could stay a few nights.”

Bakugo set his coffee down, like the act of holding something suddenly felt impossible. “Why?”

You stared at him.

Waited.

Let him connect the dots himself.

And when he didn’t—when his silence stretched too long, too confused, too hurt—you gave him the only answer you had.

“Because I need to stay somewhere that doesn’t make me feel like I’m about to be cheated on for a cheque.”

His mouth opened. Closed. No sound came out.

You tightened your grip on the bag. “I love you. But I need you to really think about what you’re doing. About what it means to even consider it. Because if this is something you’re still on the fence about, then I can’t be here while you figure it out.”

His jaw tensed. “You don’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust this version of you,” you whispered. “The one that looks at money and forgets what we built.”

The pain on his face flickered fast, like he didn’t want you to see it—but you did. You saw all of it. The confusion. The guilt. The way his hands curled into fists like he wanted to fix it, but didn’t know how.

You didn’t wait for him to say anything else.

You turned.

Walked toward the door.

And before you stepped out, you paused, one hand on the handle, your voice soft.

“I’ll be at Keigo’s if you decide that I’m worth more than a fucking paycheck.”

Then you were gone.

And the door closed behind you.

The door closed behind you.

The air outside was cooler than you expected, your breath catching a little in your chest as you walked down the driveway. You didn’t have a plan past this. Just the bag slung over your shoulder and the phone in your hand, screen dark and heavy like it knew what you were about to do.

You hadn’t actually texted Keigo.

You said it like you had, like it was settled, like your best friend who sometimes slept until noon and always forgot to charge his phone would definitely be available for some kind of emotional bed-and-breakfast situation.

But you hadn’t sent the message.

Because you hadn’t known what to say.

And because when everything cracked open inside you, the only place that felt remotely safe wasn’t a hotel, or a friend with a couch, or your sister two cities over.

It was Keigo.

Of course it was Keigo.

He was the only person who knew what this world had been like for you. What the job had meant. What it had cost. He’d seen you on your best and worst days. Had filmed with you when your hands were shaking and kissed your forehead before scenes when you were too anxious to fake it. He’d seen you fall in love with Bakugo even before you realized you had.

So when your thumb hovered over his name, you didn’t write a long explanation. You didn’t even say anything dramatic.

You just texted:

“Are you home?”

He responded in thirty seconds.

“Always.”

You blinked away the burn behind your eyes and typed back:

“I’m coming over.”

And that was it.

No questions.

No judgment.

And when you got there, he opened the door before you even knocked.

His hair was a mess, blonde tufts sticking in every direction, sweatpants slung low on his hips and an old band tee hanging loose over his chest. He had a toothbrush in one hand and a protein bar in the other, like he’d been mid-bite when he saw your name pop up and forgot how to function after.

His eyes swept over you, down to the duffel bag, and back up.

He blinked.

“You look like shit.”

You let out a quiet laugh that broke halfway through. “Thanks.”

He stepped aside. “Get in here.”

The second the door closed behind you, the weight hit you all at once. Your chest tightened. Your throat burned. But you didn’t cry. You just stood in the entryway while Keigo locked the door behind you, his movements quiet, slow, careful.

He turned around. Didn’t push. Didn’t ask.

Just held out his arms.

And you stepped right into them.

No words. No explanations.

His body was warm. Familiar. The way he held you—arms wrapping tight, chin resting on your head, it didn’t feel romantic. It didn’t even feel fragile.

It felt like safety.

You didn’t know how long you stood there. Long enough for your breath to even out. Long enough to stop shaking.

Eventually, he pulled back, hands still on your arms.

“You hungry?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“You wanna shower?”

Another shake.

“You wanna talk?”

You hesitated. Then whispered, “Not yet.”

He nodded. “Cool. I got like five types of ice cream and a couch with your name on it.”

You smiled. Small. Tired.

“Also, I’m watching that trashy dating show you hate.”

You groaned. “Of course you are.”

“I’m doing you a favor. Lowering your standards before you crawl back to your man.”

You stiffened. He caught it.

His eyes softened.

“Hey,” he said gently. “I’m not judging. I just know you love that idiot.”

You didn’t answer.

He didn’t push.

He just took your bag, pointed toward the living room, and said, “You’re on blanket duty. I’ll be there in five.”

You sank onto the couch, pulling the throw over your lap, curling into the cushions like they might hold you together.

Your hand drifted to your stomach again. Light. Careful. Protective.

You didn’t know what was going to happen next.

But at least for tonight—you weren’t alone.

Keigo didn’t hover.

He didn’t ask why you showed up at his door with a bag and puffy eyes. Didn’t pry when you curled into the couch under the throw blanket like your body was trying to disappear. He just dropped onto the other end, grabbed the remote, and turned on whatever trash he’d been watching before you showed up. Something dramatic. Loud. Ridiculous.

You let it play.

For a while, neither of you talked. He didn’t need to. You weren’t ready. And he knew that.

You sat there in silence, the glow of the TV washing over the room in soft colors while some girl on screen cried over a man named Bryce who’d definitely slept with her best friend.

Keigo clicked his tongue. “Messy.”

You snorted without meaning to.

His eyes flicked to you.

He grinned. “There she is.”

You rolled your eyes and hugged the blanket tighter.

After another minute, he shifted suddenly, sitting up a little straighter.

“You know what, bitch?” he said, tone way too enthusiastic for someone wearing socks with holes in them. “I got just the thing for you.”

You raised a brow. “Keigo—”

“Nope. Don’t talk. Let me fix you.”

“You’re not fixing anything.”

He was already on his feet, waving a dismissive hand as he wandered toward the kitchen. “Shut up and mourn your toxic man in peace. I’ll be right back.”

You smiled despite yourself. That dumb, warm little twist in your chest that only came from someone who knew you too well. You sank back into the couch, head tipping against the cushion, letting the sounds of the show fill the room while he clattered around in the kitchen.

Drawers opened. Something clinked. The fridge door squeaked.

A few minutes later, he reappeared—two wine glasses in hand, both filled with a generous pour of deep red.

You blinked.

He held one out to you. “To men being trash.”

You stared at the wine glass.

Didn’t take it.

Your throat started to close.

Your chest got tight.

And before you could stop it—your face crumpled.

Keigo blinked. “Wait—what?”

You shook your head, covering your face with one hand, and the tears started spilling fast. Quiet, but heavy. You tried to breathe through it, tried to wave him off, but it was too late.

He sat down quick, the wine still in his hands. “Shit—what’d I do? What happened?”

You couldn’t speak at first.

Just buried your face in your palms and choked on the words.

Keigo’s voice gentled. “Hey. It’s okay. You don’t have to—just breathe, babe. You’re alright. I’m here.”

“I’m not mad about the wine, I swear,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I just—I can’t have it.”

Keigo stared at you.

Then stared at the wine.

Then back at you.

And his whole face shifted.

“…oh shit.”

Without another word, he placed both wines down and then picked up your untouched glass and poured the whole thing into his. Set the empty one aside like it had betrayed you both.

You laughed, messy and wet.

He leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees, face open. “Tell me everything.”

So you did.

You told him about the morning. About waking up wrapped in Bakugo like nothing had changed. About how perfect it had been, how happy you’d felt—until that email. Until Bakugo had looked at a number on a screen and hesitated.

You told him about the offer. The girl. The way he didn’t say no. How your heart had split in two while he stood there quiet, calculating.

You told him about the fight. About the way Bakugo looked at you—professional. Like he’d stepped back into a version of himself you thought he’d buried.

You told him you threw up. Took a test. Watched the second pink line appear like it had been waiting for this exact moment to fuck you up.

By the time you finished, your hands were in your lap and Keigo was quiet beside you, one elbow propped on the couch, wine glass forgotten.

He didn’t say anything for a while.

“Goddamn.”

You exhaled. “Yeah.”

He shook his head, blowing out a soft breath. “I’m not gonna lie, I kinda wanna punch him.”

You almost smiled. “I know.”

“But I also know him,” he added. “And I know that if he’d seen that test first? He would’ve lost his goddamn mind.”

You looked down. Your voice went quiet. “But he didn’t.”

Keigo didn’t argue.

Didn’t defend him.

He just shifted closer, nudged your knee with his. “You gonna tell him?”

“I don’t know.”

“You want him to know?”

You hesitated.

And in the silence, Keigo just nodded, like he understood even that.

He leaned back into the couch and took a sip of the wine he definitely didn’t want anymore. “Well,” he said. “Until you do, this couch is yours. So’s the ice cream.”

You snorted. “You said that like it was a prize.”

“Have you seen my freezer?”

You laughed, properly this time, and wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “Thanks, Kei.”

“Anytime.”

He bumped your shoulder with his, lazy and gentle.

And the two of you sat like that—half-curled into each other, trash TV still playing in the background, a full glass of wine untouched on the table—and for the first time all day, you felt like maybe, just maybe, everything might not fall apart after all.

The next morning came too early.

You hadn’t really slept, just drifted in and out between half-dreams and the glow of Keigo’s TV. He’d stayed up with you, never pushing, just letting you exist. At some point he fell asleep at the other end of the couch, one leg kicked over the armrest, mouth half-open, blanket tangled around his waist like he’d wrestled a ghost in his sleep.

You sat up slowly, hair a mess, hoodie slipping off one shoulder. Your hand dropped to your stomach before you even thought about it. Just a soft touch. A check-in.

Still real.

Still terrifying.

You didn’t know how to feel. You weren’t ready to be a mom. But you were even less ready to walk back into that house and face a man who looked at you like a choice instead of a certainty.

Keigo stirred with a groan. “God, my spine is broken.”

You snorted. “You did that to yourself.”

He opened one eye and smirked. “I do everything to myself. But you—you look a little less haunted. That’s a win.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “It’s the pregnancy glow.”

He gagged dramatically and rolled off the couch.

You spent the rest of the day like that—floating in a weird limbo of cozy clothes, bad food, and Keigo pretending he wasn’t watching you like a hawk when you stood too still or stared too long at nothing. He didn’t ask again. Just sat with you. Waited.

But Bakugo didn’t text.

Didn’t call.

Didn’t show up.

And it hit harder than you wanted it to.

The second day passed slower. Keigo dragged you to the corner store, forced you into a cart like a toddler, and tossed prenatal vitamins into your basket when he thought you weren’t looking. You said nothing. Let him. It was easier than explaining how you hadn’t bought them yet because part of you still wasn’t ready to accept this was really happening.

That night, you fell asleep curled into the couch again, Keigo’s blanket pulled over your head like you could hide from the world.

Meanwhile—

Bakugo sat on the edge of your shared bed, phone in his hand, staring at your last message like he could will it to say something different.

You’d been gone for two days.

He hadn’t slept. Hadn’t eaten. The house smelled like nothing. Like empty space. Like you’d never been there at all.

He’d cleaned the kitchen three times. Took the trash out even though it was barely full. Sat on the couch with the TV on mute for hours, watching the screen without seeing a thing.

And the offer?

Still sitting in his inbox.

He hadn’t opened it since you left.

Hadn’t touched it.

Hadn’t deleted it either.

He didn’t know what to do.

He fucked up. That part was obvious. The second your eyes filled with tears and your voice cracked when you said “I need to stay somewhere that doesn’t make me feel like I’m about to be cheated on for a cheque,” something in him snapped in half.

He wasn’t gonna do it. He wasn’t.

But he hadn’t said that.

He froze. Stupid. Thought about the number. The money. The “what ifs.” He hesitated—and you saw that. You felt that.

And now?

Now you were gone.

He looked around the room and realized how quiet everything felt without you. How still. How wrong.

Your charger was still plugged in beside the bed.

Your hair tie was still looped around the doorknob of the bathroom.

Your robe still hung on the hook.

He stood up suddenly, like the silence was suffocating him, and grabbed his keys without thinking. He needed to move. Needed to breathe. He didn’t even know where he was going until he was already outside.

Across town, Keigo was cleaning up dinner when his phone buzzed.

He glanced at it once.

Then again.

Then sighed.

“Hey,” he called toward the living room. “You decent?”

“Why?”

“Someone’s here.”

You looked up from the blanket nest you’d made on his couch.

Your stomach dropped.

Keigo opened the door before you could move.

And there he was.

Katsuki Bakugo.

A mess.

Sweatpants. Hoodie. Hair a wreck. Eyes red like he hadn’t slept since you left. He looked past Keigo immediately, eyes scanning the living room until they landed on you.

His whole body stilled.

Your heart slammed in your chest.

Keigo crossed his arms. “You lost?”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched. “She here?”

“You gonna do something stupid if I say yes?”

He didn’t answer.

Keigo looked back at you.

You were frozen.

Not ready.

But you nodded.

Just once.

Keigo stepped aside.

Bakugo stepped in.

And the room felt like it couldn’t hold both of you at once.

You sat there curled up on Keigo’s couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, blanket tucked to your chin like you were trying to hide in plain sight. You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stared at him with wide, quiet eyes—like the sight of him hurt and you didn’t have the energy to pretend it didn’t.

He looked the same as he did the night you left. Except worse.

Hoodie rumpled. Hair a mess. Jaw tight like he hadn’t unclenched it since you slammed the door behind you. His hands were in his pockets, like he didn’t trust them not to reach for you. His voice cracked when he finally said your name.

You blinked.

Didn’t say anything.

He shifted his weight, like he didn’t know where to stand. “I opened that offer. I saw it. We both did.”

Your gaze dropped to the blanket.

“But I need you to know that when I saw the offer, I didn’t hesitate because I wanted to touch her or because I wanted to fuck someone else. I haven’t wanted anyone but you in months. You know that.”

Still, you said nothing. You didn’t argue.

He took a step forward, slow and careful.

“You left,” he said, softer now. “And I get why. I fucked up. You needed me to be certain and I hesitated. I looked at a number instead of looking at you. And I’ll regret that for the rest of my fucking life.”

Your throat bobbed.

“But I’m here,” he said. “I’m here now, and I’ll keep being here until you decide if you want me back.”

You shifted slightly, curling tighter into yourself. “It wasn’t just the job, Katsuki.”

His whole body froze. “What?”

“It was how easy it felt for you to think about it. Like everything we walked away from didn’t mean as much to you as it did to me.”

He looked like you’d slapped him.

You swallowed. “You said it was just acting. But it’s not just acting to me anymore. I thought we were past that. I thought we were building something real.”

“We are.”

Your voice dropped. Barely a whisper. “Then why did it feel so fake that day?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

No answer.

You finally looked up at him again. Your eyes were tired. Sad. He saw the pain in them, the kind that ran deep, old and new all tangled together—and still, you hadn’t told him the truth.

He had no idea that what you were really asking was “Can I trust you to be a father?”

“Can I trust you not to choose your past over our future?”

But you couldn’t say it yet. Not while it still hurt like this.

He stepped closer. Sat on the coffee table in front of you so he wasn’t towering over you anymore. His knees brushed the edge of the blanket.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he said, voice low. “But I’ll do whatever it takes. I mean that.”

You stared at him, your heart thudding so loud you could barely hear yourself think.

But your lips parted anyway.

And all you said was, “Okay.”

Not forgiveness. Not a welcome.

Just that.

And he nodded.

Didn’t smile. Didn’t breathe easy.

Just sat there.

Like a man waiting for permission to hope.

You stared at him.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t beg.

Just waited—like if you breathed too hard, it might all disappear.

You should’ve been angry still. Should’ve made him sit in it longer. But something in you shifted when you saw his face tonight. The way he walked in, quiet and wrecked, like he hadn’t slept. The way he spoke, slow and steady, like he’d rehearsed every word a thousand times just to get it right for you.

“I wanna go home,” you said softly.

He blinked.

You stood up, letting the blanket fall from your lap, hoodie sleeves still swallowed around your hands. “If we go home, will you come with me?”

Bakugo stood before the last word left your mouth. “Yeah. Yeah—of course.”

You didn’t touch each other. Didn’t say anything else. Just turned and walked toward the kitchen where Keigo was pretending not to eavesdrop behind the fridge door.

He looked up when you stepped in.

“You leaving?” he asked, already knowing.

You nodded. “Thanks for letting me hide out.”

“You can always come back,” he said, grinning like he hadn’t been secretly worried about you this entire time. “Just don’t wait ‘til you’re pregnant with twins next time, yeah?”

You choked.

Bakugo stiffened beside you.

Keigo froze.

A beat of silence passed—too long.

“…wait,” he said slowly, eyes bouncing between you two. “Does he not—”

You stepped on his foot, hard.

He yelped. “Okay! Cool! Goodbye! Don’t be strangers!”

Bakugo squinted. “What the fuck was that?”

“Nothing,” you said too quickly. “He’s just being annoying.”

“…right.”

You hugged Keigo tight, whispered a quick thank you, and turned before he could say anything else.

Bakugo didn’t say much on the way out. Just kept close, held the car door open, rested his hand on the back of your seat the whole drive home like he needed the contact even if you didn’t reach for him.

When you got back to the house, the porch light was still on. Like it had been waiting for you.

You stepped inside first. The air smelled the same—soft laundry, old coffee, faint vanilla from the candle you forgot to blow out the last morning you were here.

It hit you all at once.

The familiarity.

The comfort.

The ache.

You dropped your bag at the door and turned around just as Bakugo closed it behind him.

You stared at each other for a moment in the quiet.

He stepped forward. “Do you want space?”

You shook your head. “I just want to go to bed.”

He nodded once.

No questions.

No pressure.

Just followed you into the bedroom, moving like he was afraid to touch anything too hard in case it broke.

You didn’t curl into him that night. Didn’t kiss him. But you let him sleep in the same bed. And he didn’t ask for anything more.

He just laid there beside you, quiet, breathing, waiting.

And you knew tomorrow, you’d have to tell him everything.

But not tonight.

Tonight, you just needed to be home.

The next morning, the light crept in slow.

You felt it on your face before you opened your eyes—warm and golden, filtering through the curtains like nothing bad had ever happened here. For a second, you forgot everything. Forgot the fight. The offer. The bag you’d packed in a hurry and the two nights you spent curled on Keigo’s couch like you’d forgotten how to breathe.

You just felt warm.

And then you felt him.

Bakugo’s arm was draped over your waist, heavy and protective, fingers resting just above the curve of your stomach. His face was buried in your neck, breath slow and even, like he’d finally slept for the first time in days. You didn’t remember shifting into him during the night. Didn’t remember turning toward him or letting him in—but it didn’t surprise you.

Because this was always the part that made sense.

This.

Him.

You shifted slightly under the covers and felt his grip tighten.

His voice was soft, still sticky with sleep. “You leavin’ again?”

You shook your head. “No.”

He hummed and pulled you closer, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder.

And for a moment, you let yourself have it. That quiet, sleepy closeness. The kind you used to take for granted.

But it didn’t last.

The nausea came fast.

Violent.

You tensed under his arm and swallowed hard. That heavy weight in your stomach twisted, flipped—and suddenly the room was spinning.

You sat up quickly.

Bakugo’s arm dropped. “What’s—”

You didn’t answer.

Just bolted.

The sound of your bare feet hitting the floorboards was loud in the silence, followed by the bathroom door swinging open and the unmistakable retching that echoed right after.

Bakugo was up immediately.

“Shit—baby?” His voice was frantic now. Half-asleep panic. “You okay?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

You were too busy gripping the toilet, your whole body trembling as everything you had in you came back up.

Bakugo was at your side in seconds. Hand on your back, the other pulling your hair gently out of your face. You felt him settle next to you on the tile, warm and solid and there.

“You’re sick?” he asked, voice low and careful.

You didn’t look at him.

Just wiped your mouth with shaking fingers and whispered, “No.”

He paused.

“…Then what is it?”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

The words hovered at the edge of your throat, caught somewhere between fear and inevitability.

Then you whispered:

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Not long. Not loud.

But deafening.

You finally looked at him.

He was already staring at you.

And the expression on his face was unreadable.

Not scared.

Not angry.

Just—stunned.

He blinked. Once. Twice.

His voice came quiet.

“You’re…?”

You nodded.

He stared at your face. Then your stomach. Then back again.

And then he exhaled—like he’d been holding his breath for days.

“Fuck.”

You braced yourself for panic. For questions. For him to stand up and walk out or shut down completely like he used to when the pressure got too loud.

But he didn’t.

He just reached out—slowly—and rested his palm over your stomach. Barely touching. Just enough to feel something that wasn’t there yet.

“You’re pregnant,” he said again, softer this time. Like it was finally sinking in.

Your breath hitched.

And then, in the smallest voice you’d made in a long time, you said, “I was going to tell you. I just… I didn’t know how.”

He looked up at you then, eyes wide and full of something you couldn’t name.

“You should’ve told me the second you knew.”

“I wanted to.”

“So why didn’t you?”

You swallowed hard. “Because you were still deciding if I was worth more than a fucking paycheck.”

That shattered something in him.

And he didn’t defend himself.

Didn’t say a word.

He just looked at you like he’d never hated himself more.

But you didn’t move.

You didn’t stand up or pull away or shove his hand off your stomach. You just stayed right there on the cold tile floor, knees drawn up, hoodie sliding down your shoulder, throat tight with everything you’d been holding in for days.

Bakugo didn’t move either.

His hand stayed right where it was—resting over the soft curve of your belly. There was nothing to feel yet. No bump. No movement. Just skin. Just potential.

But the way he touched you…

It wasn’t casual.

It wasn’t unsure.

It was reverent.

His thumb stroked a small line over your hoodie, like he was trying to memorize this moment. Like he was afraid if he blinked, it would disappear.

“I didn’t know,” he said, voice rough. “Fuck. I didn’t know.”

“I know,” you whispered.

“If I’d known…”

You looked at him. Really looked at him.

And he fell quiet.

You didn’t need him to finish the sentence.

Because you knew.

He would’ve slammed the laptop shut. Would’ve deleted the offer. Would’ve gotten on his knees and begged if he had to. You knew that. Deep down, you always did.

But it didn’t change the fact that he hesitated without knowing.

And that still hurt.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you said, voice shaking. “You looked at me like I was asking too much. Like loving me wasn’t enough.”

His hand curled a little tighter.

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. “I never wanted to make you feel like that.”

You blinked back tears. “Well, you did.”

He nodded, jaw tight, and didn’t argue. Didn’t try to make it pretty.

He just sat there on the floor with you, looking like someone who’d been punched in the chest and didn’t want to move in case the pain got worse.

And then, so quietly you barely heard it, he said:

“Are you keeping it?”

You looked down at his hand on your stomach.

And nodded.

His breath left him in one slow exhale, like he’d been bracing for the answer to break him.

“Okay,” he said.

You blinked. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “We’re doing this.”

You stared at him.

“I’m not letting you do it alone,” he added. “No matter what happens. I’m in.”

You swallowed hard. “Katsuki…”

His eyes met yours. “I love you.”

There was no shake in his voice this time. No hesitation. Just those three words, clear and grounded and real.

You reached for him without meaning to—fingers curling into the front of his hoodie—and he moved instantly, arms wrapping around you, holding you to his chest like he didn’t care how raw it still was between you.

You buried your face in his shoulder.

And for the first time since you saw those two pink lines…

You let yourself cry.

He didn’t say a word.

Just held you.

One hand on your back.

The other still resting on your stomach.

He held you for a long time.

Just sat there on the bathroom floor with you in his arms, the morning light spilling across the tiles, his palm warm and steady over your stomach. You cried into his shoulder—quiet, messy, not loud enough to echo. He didn’t shush you. Didn’t rush you. He just stayed.

Present. Gentle. Real.

Eventually, your tears faded into soft breaths, your fingers still curled into the front of his hoodie. His cheek rested against the top of your head. Neither of you moved.

Then—his voice, low and quiet:

“Come back to bed?”

You nodded.

He helped you up without letting go, one hand guiding you, the other still cradling your hip like he was afraid you might break if he touched you too hard. You let him lead you back to the bedroom, both of you silent, moving slow, your legs a little shaky but your heart finally starting to settle.

The sheets were still warm. Familiar. You climbed in first, slid under the blanket, curled toward the center like muscle memory. He followed, slower, more cautious. Laid beside you on his side, facing you, eyes soft and searching.

His fingers trailed up your waist like he was trying to remember you all over again—every curve, every freckle, every part of you he thought he might’ve lost. You laid there beneath him, skin bare, eyes soft, heart cracked wide open. You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to. He was already listening to every shift in your breath, every quiet sound that slipped from your lips like music he couldn’t go another second without hearing.

He looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were still here. Like he didn’t deserve it.

His fingers lifted, brushing a piece of hair from your cheek. “Can I touch you?”

You nodded.

“Tell me if anything feels wrong, okay? I mean it.”

“I will.”

He leaned in, slowly, giving you a chance to pull back. You didn’t. You met him halfway, lips brushing his in a soft, tentative kiss that melted into something deeper the second his hand found your waist.

He kissed you slowly, like the world had stopped spinning just for this.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, voice hoarse.

You nodded. “I need you.”

His lips brushed yours again, and again, before he moved lower—down your neck, over your collarbone, dragging his mouth across your chest as his hands slid down your sides. His thumb traced the underside of your breast, gentle, reverent, before he cupped you in his palm and kissed the soft skin there, breathing against you like a prayer.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured, tongue flicking over your nipple, then sucking it into his mouth until you gasped and arched into him. He stayed there for a moment, his other hand massaging your hip, grounding you, letting your body respond in its own time.

You moaned softly, your thighs already shifting beneath him, breath shaky as his kisses dragged lower, over your ribs, your stomach—pausing for a second at the soft skin just beneath your navel.

He glanced up, hand stroking your thigh now. “Is this okay?”

You reached for him, your fingers threading through his messy blonde hair, voice soft but certain. “Please.”

He settled between your thighs like he’d been craving it. His hands slid under your knees and pushed them open just a little more, spreading you for him with a careful gentleness that made you melt. He didn’t rush—just stared for a second, lips parted, breath shallow.

“Fuck,” he whispered, like he couldn’t believe this was still his. “You’re already wet.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Katsuki, please.”

He leaned in slowly and licked a slow, teasing stripe up your center, groaning low in his throat like he was getting high off the taste of you. You gasped, hips twitching, and he wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you steady, flattening his tongue and dragging it over you again—circling your clit in soft, slow swirls until your back arched and a shaky moan spilled from your lips.

“That feel okay?” he murmured, voice thick.

You nodded fast. “Yes, fuck—yes.”

He smiled against you and dove back in, mouth working you with a slow, deliberate rhythm that had your whole body trembling. He licked and sucked, tongue curling against your clit, then dipping down to tease your entrance before fucking you with it shallowly—slow, lazy strokes that made your thighs quiver around his head.

Your hands stayed tangled in his hair, pulling gently, fingers tightening every time he groaned into you. You could feel it building fast—tight, hot pressure rolling through your core like a wave about to crash.

“Katsuki—I’m—”

“Come for me,” he rasped, his voice thick and low and full of heat. “Wanna feel you cum on my tongue.”

You broke.

Your whole body tensed, thighs shaking, a cry escaping your lips as you came hard—pulsing against his mouth, hips bucking gently as he kept licking you through it, slower now, gentler, letting you ride it out while he murmured soft praises against your skin.

“Good girl… that’s it… fuck, you’re perfect.”

You were still panting, vision swimming, when he kissed his way back up your body—slow, wet kisses up your stomach, your chest, your neck—until he was hovering over you again, face flushed, eyes heavy with want.

He brushed your hair back from your face, cupped your cheek.

“You still okay?” he asked, voice so tender it made your chest ache.

You nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in.

“I want you inside me.”

He groaned, forehead pressing to yours. “Tell me if it’s too much. I’ll stop.”

“I know.”

You reached down between your bodies and guided him to your entrance, and the moment he pushed in—slow, thick, deep—you both gasped.

You were still so wet from his mouth that he slid in smooth, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt, panting against your mouth like he was holding back everything he had.

“Fuck—” he hissed. “You feel so good. So fuckin’ good.”

He didn’t move right away.

Just stayed there, cock buried deep, one hand holding your hip, the other cupping your face while he kissed you again—long, slow, passionate.

Then he started to move.

Slow, deep thrusts, hips rolling into yours with perfect pressure, every movement dragging his cock along your walls just right. You moaned into his mouth, your nails digging into his back as he fucked you with so much care it almost didn’t feel real.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “Always.”

“Yours,” you breathed. “Only yours.”

He kept moving like he was making love to every piece of you. No rush. No greed. Just deep strokes and soft moans and the occasional whispered “I love you” against your skin that made your heart ache as much as your body did.

You felt the second wave building slow and heavy, tightening deep in your belly, and he felt it too—how your walls fluttered around him, how your legs tightened around his waist.

“I got you,” he panted. “Let go, baby. I got you.”

You came again with a broken moan, this one quieter, sweeter, your body curling into his as you clenched around him, crying out softly as the pleasure rolled through you.

He groaned and buried himself deep, hips stuttering once, twice, before he spilled inside you with a soft, desperate sound—forehead pressed to yours, hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go.

You stayed tangled like that.

Sticky. Shaky. Whole.

And when he finally pulled back just enough to look at you, both of you breathless and warm and a little overwhelmed, he kissed your cheek and whispered—

“We’re gonna be okay.

And just like that, the part of you that had been holding its breath… exhaled.

TAGS: @2elusional @cosmicaoii @kizsuki @kodzubaby

#my hero academia #smut #bakugo katuski #bakugo x reader #bakugou x y/n #mha #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugo fic

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