#He hates the perfume bottle so much actually

[thebeeshaveknees]

Uhhhh so I decided my first attempt at a trolls fic would be a rewrite of the whole third movie because I'm Silly and I wanted to put JD x DD as like frenemies but romance but I ended up going heavy on the romance and it made me sad so I'm throwing it to the wolves for judgement

When John Dory had fallen into Delta Dawn's pod yet again, he hadn't expected to wake up with a ladybug on his chest.

He nudged her with his foot to wake her up. "Uh. DD."

She grumbled some alliterate curse at him, but rolled over and also saw the ladybug. "John, on my life if you don't get that vermin out of my bed I'll make you walk to the jailhouse in your underthings."

He picked it up, rolled out of bed and was about to put it on the floor when he got smacked upside the head. "Not on my floors neither', John, it's your woods' bug."

John sighed dramatically, waddling to the window with the bug held at arm's reach. "Could you get the window?"

Dawn opened the window latch and John tipped the insect up trying to fit it through, and he noticed the note. "It's a messenger ladybug?" He showed her the underside with eight squirmy legs and a note tied to it with a string. Dawn cringed but grabbed the note around its spindly legs and JD put it out the window. "Sheriff mail?"

She gave him a short look. "Yes, you snoop, now put on a shirt." She said, sitting herself down on the bed to read the letter.

JD threw on his leather jacket, before peeking over DD's shoulder at the note.

"Nothin' interesting, interloper." She teased, looking up at him. "A troll from Pop Village is missing, I'll up patrols for a little while, but it's already been a month - really, ladybugs for messengers.

Something in John's gut twisted, and he'd been following his gut for two decades without fail. "What's their name?"

She opened the letter again. "Branch. Dark blue hair, teal skin, dull coloured." She read, before looking back up at him.

John Dory froze. He felt his stomach twist in knots. "From Pop Village?"

"You look pale, darlin."

"Did it say anything about his disappearance?"

She put her hand on his shoulder, but went back to reading the letter. "Says he was taken from Pop Village by something, it left a trail to the big folks' road but no farther." She looked at him. "You know the troll?"

"He's my brother." John blurted before he could really think it through, leaning into Delta, eyeing the cardstock in her hand. "My baby brother."

"I'm sorry, darlin." She said very softly, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. "When are you leaving?"

"As soon as the market opens, I need to stock up."

"Any ideas where he could be?"

"Not yet, but it's Bitty, I'm sure I could… Maybe I could ask my other brothers for help."

DD sighed, but put her head on his. "Should I come along, interloper?"

JD let his eyelids droop. "I wish, but it seems a traveler can only ever chase the Dawn."

She snorted. "How on earth did I fall for a poet?" She pulled John further into her side. "Don't go chasing what's waiting for you, cowboy."

"If I didn't, how would I keep you on your hooves, Sheriff?"

She sighed, and both just enjoyed the warmth for a moment. "Be safe, you hear?"

"As safe as I usually am." John replied.

They waited for the market to open, for John to leave, in warm silence.

[cherry-leclerc]

purely platonic ☆ ln4

genre: fluff, maybe a bit of angst??, secret crushes, just two idiots who can't read the room of what we call 'feeeelingsss', they friendzone each other without knowing they're friendzoning each other BAHA

word count: 3.8k

It goes without saying that you and Lando are like two peas in a pod; always finding something to do. But when things suddenly shift after the summer break, it leaves you two to settle with the idea of one another with a rather doubtful mind.

req!...got this one a long time ago and the request was kind of confusing?? but i tried to make something out of it hahaha enjoyyy??

“Does this top make my boobs look big?”

Lando’s watercolor eyes quirk up, squint, then shakes his head full of curls. “You don’t have much to worry about.”

You muster a dirty glare before prancing over to the mirror, picking up a tube of gloss, laying it onto your plump lips. When you first started working at McLaren, you never truly thought you would end up here, on holidays with a witty British driver, but your friendship had blossomed rather quickly.

Don’t bother—they taste like absolute rubber.

Looking up to face the mysterious voice, you awkwardly choke, dainty hand dropping the last chocolate wafer. 

Have you tried them?

Lando grins widely before reaching out to pick it up and popping it into his mouth. He winks.

Mmm. New recipe or something like that.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” you call out, pulling the baby voice he hates with a strong passion. Rolling his eyes, he kicks his feet against the bed frame, twisting like a pretzel. As long as I don’t get a ransom call, then yes. Go. You’re giddy with excitement; pick up your purse, spray some perfume—probably the entire bottle—and finally peck his cheek, to which he grimaces, instantly pulling away. 

“Make sure to wake me up once you’re back.”

You do. Patting him, you eagerly bounce up and down against the fluffy mattress. “Brazil was a mistake.” His lashes flutter tiredly, skin slightly pink from rubbing his eyelids. Why? Folding your legs beneath your butt, you huff, tangled hair flying towards him. He can almost smell the sea salt that lingers onto your clothes, the scent of aperol spritz. It makes him wonder how many you’ve taken as he props up against his elbows, dark brows drawn together with attentiveness. 

“First of all, I paid for the entire thing.” No, he gasps. You nod, pursing your lips tightly. “I’ve never seen someone so tan turn paper white in a matter of seconds. It was quite fascinating, actually. Sucks,” you ponder, shoulders dropping drastically. “He was stupidly gorgeous too.” 

I hate it when they do that. You laugh, eyes crinkling with true emotions for the first time that night. “He did dance like a pro though, oh God, I could barely keep up.” A lazy arm flies up to massage your neck, wincing as if you’ve just stubbed your toe against a brick wall. “I might have to see a chiro.” Tapping your finger against your chin, you close your eyes. “After all that, he invited me back to his place.”

The Brit sits up straight away, turns on the lamp that sits besides him. “Why are you here then?” he screeches. You curl a brow. The fuck is that supposed to mean? Lando sighs heavily and rubs his temples before flashing you with a pair of stern eyes. “We’re here to have fun, remember? Sex, sex, sex. That’s our priority.” The twenty-four year old relaxes against the comfy pillows. “We made a pact.”

“But I just—” You become visibly green, too grossed out with the idea. “He was handsome—don't get me wrong—a fucking hunk.” He gags. “Probably had a massive dick.” You’re disgusting! A giggle erupts while you wiggle your way underneath the covers. “But I think I need to form an actual connection with someone in order to actually…yeah. A connection.”

It was about five months ago that you got dumped. Constant travels, not enough quality time. Too much work, not enough fucking. Far too lovey dovey eyes batted towards a certain brunette—that’s where you drew the line. You stood up for yourself; for Lando. It had taken you years to gain his trust and now that you had an unbreakable bond, you weren’t going to let the first insecure man make you feel like shit for it. But he didn’t like it, leaving you to cry on someone else’s shoulder. 

For some factor, the Brit felt bad. Perhaps it was his fault—perhaps he did intervene—but he was pissed too. For the way your ex had treated you, for him even considering the twenty-four year old would hit on somebody’s girlfriend. He knew the difference between flirting and a platonic relationship. Yeah. You were better off.

Brazil was great. Summer break was great. One night stands were great. At least he thought so.

Placing his hands over his broad chest, he releases a breath. “That’s actually pretty cute.” A sudden growl slides up your throat as you kick his shin. He scoots further away. “I only suggested because I thought it’d help…”

“Now you know.” A beat. “I can’t keep up with the Sex God.” Loopy eyes flicker over at him. “I’m talking about you, Sex Machine. Sex enthusiast. Can’t keep it in his pants— ”

He gruffs. “Understood.” He steals the blanket away as you squeal, hands flying out to tug it back towards your body. “Loud and clear.”

-

He had a plan to visit as many places as possible, and while that was fun for a while, you reasonably started to miss home. I’m tapping out, you would declare when you got to Bali, enjoying the view with an exhausted state. Last one. But he would somehow, always, convince you. There’d be too much to see. Too much to experience. And you would stay.

It’s only up until Australia where you find yourself taking an actual break. Maybe it was because you were staying at Daniel’s, but you were grateful nonetheless. Days consisted of hikes, rodeos, undercooked steak, wine, and dirt biking. Quite fun—definitely better than being back home feeding your pet fish. Ms. Lockwood has it all taken care of, thank you very much. 

“This is nice,” the Australian murmurs as he bites down on a slice of pizza. “I’m glad you guys made a pitstop.”

Wandering eyes roam the open field, dusty boots kicked up against his car. “Us too.”

Lando clicks his tongue knowingly, tilting his head at you as you hush him. For once in his life, he was glad to have someone around. Oftentimes, there’d be moments where people would assume you two were dating—possibly even married—but it was simply an unhinged friendship. Exactly what he was looking for. Thank God all of that is over now.

“How long have you two been together?” Heidi asks sweetly, leaning against her boyfriend. Mid-sip, you spit, red wine painting Lando’s white tee. Bloody hell, he moans, drying his face with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” you gurgle. “We’re not…” When you gag, the Brit scoffs.

“She’s too immature. You think I would willingly sign up for that?” The couple share a skeptical glance, eyebrows raised to where he hands you a napkin. “Come on, mate, who do you take me for?”

As you both make your way over to the house, Daniel and Heidi settle into a deep conversation. There was not a single doubt within them that you two weren’t meant for one another. It made perfect sense—but why were you both so blinded to the idea? 

“Hmm,” the blond says. “Two months of traveling together? That just doesn’t happen.” Heidi spins on her heel, facing the Australian. “There’s obviously a connection between them.”

-

Men like you are the reason I left Finland. Men like you are the reason I left Finland. A sip of water. Men like you are the reason I left Finla—

“What are you even talking about?” Lando groans from his seat. Peeking over at him, you shrug, and continue mumbling. “For the love of God, must you keep repeating yourself? You’re making a simple twenty minute drive feel like four hours—stop it already.” 

Coldly glaring at him, you pinch your face like a clam and point a narrow finger at him. “Men like you are the reason I left Finland.”

The Brit lets out a scream and jumps towards you, slapping a large hand over your mouth. You squirm for a good minute before biting down, forcing him to pull away with a sudden hiss. “Rascal.”

The view was breathtaking; the white snow, the green trees, the sunlight beaming from afar. His agenda continued and you kept tagging along. You’ve never visited, so everything was a pleasing journey. Staring out the foggy window of the van, you pout, pondering. “You’ve seriously never watched Confessions of a Shopaholic?”

“A Cock-A-Who?”

You laugh. “Not even close. I’m not doing this again.”

You’re sure you get frostbite by the end of the day, but the Northern Lights make up for it. After snapping a couple thousand pictures, you finally settle down on the snow next to him. “Hey.” A white puff exits his mouth, chapped lips. 

“Hey.”

The silence prolongs, then you let out a sore cough, taking a sip of hot chocolate. You can’t help but roll your eyes when you barely get a drop, realizing he had finished it all while you weren't looking. “Out of all the places we’ve been to, this has to be my favorite.” You direct your attention over to him. “Thank you for bringing me along. It means a lot.”

“Ah. Don’t mention it.”

You hum. “I never get bored of you.” You can hear his snowsuit scratch as he shifts to face you, wide eyes admiring the colorful lights. “I keep thinking I might—even just a little bit—but I don’t. It’s weird.”

He chuckles, relaxing. “I’m glad you haven’t. We’ve been traveling for a while now, so if that were the case, then I’d be worried.”

Pursing your lips, you let out a sheepish grin. “You’re like…the Suze to my Rebecca.”

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?”

Finally, you turn to him, taking in his puppy lost state. Specks of snowflakes cling onto his long lashes, the bridge of his nose is beet red, a hint of dried blood coats his overly frozen lips. Patting his shoulder, you let out a light whistle.

“Let’s just say, I never want to leave Finland.”

-

The season picks up once again, and so do the travels. But they’re not the same. Maybe it has to do with the fact that it’s not only you two anymore. Sure, you have your friends, but…it’s not the same. The thought alone is confusing, but you don’t let yourself think about it too long. Running after Oscar, you hand him a black binder. “What's this?”

“Not sure. Zak just wants you to read over it before the meeting.”

Frantically, he skims the white pages, flipping eagerly. You giggle. “I know it looks bad, but it’s not!” The Australian barely has a chance to protest before you skip away, shooting a quick thumbs up. “Take notes!”

Reaching the familiar dressing room, you find yourself gently knocking, foot tapping against the tiles. He swings open with a loopy grin. “Hey.”

“Hey.” A beat. “Meeting in ten minutes. Don’t be late.”

He nods. “Is there anything I should go over?”

You shake your head, extending a singular piece of paper towards the British driver. “As long as you go over these notes, then you’ll do just fine.” You take a step back. “Ten, Lando, ten.”

“Got it.”

You’re the last one entering the crowded conference room, teasing snickers spilling from McLaren colleagues. Zak claps loudly. “Great! Let’s get started.”

You’re bored halfway through, zoned out, doodling onto your notebook. You were aware of everything, so you suppose it didn’t really matter. Gray led slides coolly. A sharp sound rips you away from your daydreaming as you look up, eyes flickering between the three main men.

“I wasn’t aware there was any special treatment.” His accent is laced with humor, brown eyes drifting over to you. You curl a brow at Oscar. 

Zak chuckles. “I wasn’t either.” 

Once the meeting is adjourned, Lando strolls over to where you sprawl onto a row of chairs, blanked out. He swallows a chuckle down. “You alright?”

“What have I done?” You sit up, maniatic eyes dancing . “I’ve never done that before—not intentionally.”

The Brit closes an eye teasingly before releasing. “The notes?”

Leaping up, you march over to him. “Yes, the notes! Since when do I sum up things for your benefit? God, I didn’t even think about Oscar…”

“I’m sure you weren’t thinking straight. We all know you like to help both of us out.”

A queasy feeling flips inside of you as you tilt your head. He was right. You got caught up, made one set of bullet points, and coincidentally gave it to Lando. No further meaning.

“I need coffee.”

-

As soon as you bolted out of McLaren Hospitality, Lando made his way through the paddock. “Norris,” a deep voice calls out. Alex grins widely, jogging closer. 

“Done for the day?”

Alex nods. “What about you?”

“I think so. Had my last meeting. Reckon I should be good.”

The Williams drivers shimmies with a low chuckle. “Why are you still here then?”

The Brit freezes. “I actually don’t know…”

Huh, Alex hums. 

“You’re looking for someone?”

He unfreezes, chest tightening. “I don’t know.”

-

“Hey, hey, watch out.”

“Daniel!” you shriek. He lets out a toothy smile, extending his arm out as a silent greeting, cup of coffee in hand. You rip it away, taking a large chug. “Thank you—gotta to go.”

“Wait.” He reaches for the hem of your shirt, stopping you from slipping away. “Are you okay? You look a bit…” He motions a crazy sign. You glare back at him. 

“I need air, I need air,” you gasp, zigzagging past him. Running after you, he hauls you into the nearest restroom. You screech, panicking. “Air, Daniel, air.”

“What happened?”

Something in his voice tells you he knows. You don’t want him to know. How could anyone know what you don’t even know? No one can know. 

“You’re right—I’m losing my mind.” You step out of his embrace. “Let me out before I kill you.”

Brown eyes stare back in amusement. “You can be honest with me.”

“I’ll scream, Daniel.”

“Be honest with yourself.”

“I’m a black belt. My limits are endless.”

“Just say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say it.”

You close your eyes, groan, and kick the wall. “Shit, I like Lando.”

Heavy pants, desperate huffs. Anticipating eyes, nervous fiddling with your hair. His lack of response makes it all worse. 

Daniel clicks his tongue. “I knew it.”

-

“Want anything?” he asks, gazing up at the wall of foreign treats. Singapore knew what they were doing. Your voice catches, releases, then wave him off. Weird, he thinks to himself, but continues to pay for his own sweets. The way you prance around the small convenient store makes him smile, occasionally making sure you were still there.

“I won’t be going to the next race. Thought you should know.”

It obviously catches him off guard as he spins to face you with a neutral expression. He’s good at hiding things—feelings. 

“I…um…” He coughs. “Can I ask why?”

“It’s my Nana’s birthday.” A beat. “She only has so many left, dude.”

The Brit would love to relax and laugh at your dark humor, but one simple word makes him deflate, nodding along with a sheepish look. He hands you a bag of penguin gummies. “From me, to her.”

The colorful bag crunches against your touch, awkwardly beaming at it, then looking up into his soft stare. “She has diabetes, but thanks.”

-

He realizes just how much he misses you once you jump onto the plane back home. He had been kind enough to offer to drive you to the airport, and you had been rude enough to decline. A weak exchange of words ensued between you two before reluctantly coming to an agreement.

Here is fine!

Blue eyes wander the busy drop off zone; humming with concern. 

Let me help you with your bags, then.

No! Drive safe, Lando. Oh—and make sure to take your vitamins! 

The British driver wonders why he feels different; pacing the room back and forth. Vitamin C is important. He eyes his watch. That’s probably why—he forgot to take them. Or maybe it was his biotin. 

“Mate! You have my charger!” The twenty-four year old gazes at his taking door and makes his way over. Daniel stands with loopy eyes, half shaved mustache. “Bon Iver died mid-For Emma, so you better hurry and give it to me.”

“I have it right here, chill.” The Australian invited himself in, brown orbs flickering carefully through the dark room. He chuckles. 

“Can’t find your birth control?”

Lando cocks his head to the side, recognizing his mess that lies on the floor. The orange bottles make him stutter, briskly pushing the white charger towards his friend. “B6, I’m looking for my—” A nervous hand runs through his messy hair. “Got what you need? Great. Off you go.”

“Ah, ah—hold on a second; is that my girl, Isla Fisher?”

The Brit cackles, remembering about his open computer. “How do you know?”

Daniel plops down. “Confessions of a Shopaholic? Classic. Heidi loves it.”

The brunette hums, finding a spot next to the Aussie. “Who’s Suze?”

“Have you not been paying attention?”

“I’ve been looking for my calcium!”

The thirty-four year old pouts. “I thought it was your R2-D2?”

“Clever.” 

A Tim Burton looking girl comes on-screen, perfect bangs hanging just above her brows. The redhead and black haired duo exchange a small phone back and forth, panic evident. “That’s Suze. She’s Becky’s best friend. They go through a bit of a rough patch, but they come back together, don’t worry.”

“Suze? Rebe…” He pales. “Friends?”

“You thought they were lesbos?”

Lando shakes his head, harshly. “What about Finland?”

“A fantasy land, sort of.” Daniel props up against his elbows. “It’s her getaway from all her debt. It’s real, but it’s not real.” The blue eyed boy’ shoulders droop furthermore as he watches the scene play out.

“Friends…”

Chomping down on a mysterious pill, Daniel shrugs. “Mhm. Just friends.”

-

It’s safe to say that you’re refreshed. You thought things through—you could never speak about your sudden realization. This probably happens all the time, all around the world, nothing to see here. Your feelings were there, but they wouldn’t be your downfall. Not when he mattered this much to you. 

“Read over this. Pay close attention to three and seven—Zak is going to ask you about it.” Lando hums slowly, eyes tracing your beauty. You’re a shade tanner due to your small vacation, if you can call it that, and that somehow tugs at his heart. If he pays close enough attention, then he could point out a few new freckles. “Any questions?”

He blinks. “Zero. Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.”

Something has shifted inside of him, something…new? Every chance he gets, he would peek and admire the way you laugh with a couple of the engineers, with Zak. Then, he would have to pinch and remind himself that he was your friend; nothing more, nothing less.

“Any additional notes? Oscar? Lando?”

Raising your hand timidly, you beam. “If I could suggest one thing, maybe we can keep the floor the same? I know we spoke on how a drastic change can possibly lengthen our kph, but if we actually think about it, then we would be able to see that it’ll only worsen things. It’s perfect, really, where it’s at. What we should be focusing on instead are other areas. Find ways to lighten the car, mark our attention to the aerodynamics.” Red creeps carefully onto your cheeks, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you shrug. “Just a…thought.”

Zak hums, crossing his arms in deep thought. “We could do that…we could definitely do that.” He grins. “Boys?”

“Anything to make us faster, count me in,” Oscar agrees, voice steady.

“We should change it.”

Everyone turns to face the twenty-four year old. Pens glide faster, keys click harder, and you stumble clumsily. “Sorry?”

Lando tsks. “I like what you were saying, but we need to change it in order to stand a chance against the Red Bulls. They’ve cracked the code, and we’re so close. We need to adapt.”

You burn up. “I’m sorry, but I disagree, Lando. Things should stay the same. Same is safe. Change is…” You lick your lips, biting down momentarily. “Not necessary. Not when things are already good where they’re at.”

The British driver hisses. Oscar jumps at the cold sound. “Safe is a pussy move. How will you ever know what could have happened? One thing can flip everything around.” His eyes soften. “A-and put us in front of the grid for good. Good, good.”

Caught in the flame, you grit your teeth together. Who were you to have a say after all? Your attention circles the quiet room before nodding stiffly. “Alrighty then.”

-

“You embarrassed me in front of everyone!”

Lando frantically chases after you, shoes squeaking with every drastic turn. “I was just being honest!”

The sudden speed you turn back to face him with makes him flinch, forced to come to a halt. He can practically see the fumes exiting your body. “But did you have to say it in that tone?”

“What tone? I didn’t have a tone.”

“Yes! Yes, you did!” You continue your march. “Oh, hi! I’m Lando Norris, professional Formula One driver, who knows everything you don’t.”

“I do not sound like that.”

“You’re right. You sound worse.” A huff. “Listen, I’m not actually mad, but I do need time to myself, so can you please…” You motion him away and he scoffs. Are you being serious right now? “I am! Leave!”

He sort of replicates a zombie, the way he drags his feet back to hospitality. Was he really ready for any of this? He liked you, a lot, but things like this would eventually stir up in any relationship, and maybe he didn’t have the strength in him to fix things yet. But if you stayed friends, then…yeah. Things would stubbornly fix themselves.

You, on the other hand, have a sudden bounce in your step. A stride. This is what you needed. Suddenly, your stupid little crush wasn’t as important as you had imagined. Fights would bubble between you two if you ever dared cross the invisible line, and you weren’t the biggest fan in facing them. Friends. That’s all this was.

Daniel crosses Lando first, intrigued by his dead-like state. “What’s up with you now?”

The Brit blinks. “I’m no Luke, Danny.” He kicks a rock. “I’m fine, however, being a Suze.”

Son of a bitch, the Australian thinks as he watches his friend stroll away. He actually paid attention. 

Placing his headphones back onto his head, he continues his walk down the paddock, confused. When you make your way with a bright smile, he, too, reciprocates. Your lips move fast, hand gestures flying theatrically, and he can’t hear a single thing. The Alpha Tauri driver snakes his hand to slip them off once again. “Having a g’day?”

“Best,” you beam. “Connection lost.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[megameatymatt]

Die For Me - Matt Sturniolo

Toxic Fwb Stoner!Matt X Reader

Summary: Matt and Y/N are fwb ( friends with benefits), But what if Y/N wants more?

slightly proof read

WARNINGS: smut, toxic, soft!dom matt, mentions of alcohol, drugs, and weed, overthinking??? angst??

requested?: nope

word count: 801

A/N: I apologize in advance, Feedback, interaction, and requests are appreciated! stay slutty ok bye💋

Y/n - Pink

Matt- blue

"Pull up, baby, I need you to slide for me You know how I love it when you ride on me"

9:15

You shuffle through your makeup drawer preparing for a date with a guy you met a few weeks ago. The air was filled with the scent of your perfume and the soft hum of your favourite playlist. As you apply your mascara your phone buzzes with a new message from Matt.

It read: 

"Hey Y/N can u come over I miss you"

"Chris and Nick aren't home.."

"pretty please"

You pause, your fingers hovering over the screen. You know the routine with Matt—hang out, get high,  then fuck. It’s always been straightforward, but lately, your feelings have grown more complicated. You love him in a way that goes beyond just fun and games, and it’s starting to hurt.

You text back:

"I’m actually getting ready for a date rn. I’m not sure..."

Matt’s response was fast, almost too fast:

"Please baby, we can make it quick"

"please I fucking need you"

You’ve been here before, caught between wanting to protect yourself and the irresistible urge to be near Matt. You can’t ignore the fact that you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak if you go through with this. You want more from him, but he’s always been clear about not wanting anything serious.

A sigh escapes your lips as you consider your choices. The date tonight could turn into something special, But the lure of Matt and the hope that he might feel the same way you do is hard to ignore.

With a heavy heart, you decide to respond:

"be there in 10"

"i love you"

Your stomach fills with butterflies.

You decided to take the long way to his house. The drive was like a distraction, a temporary escape from the gnawing sadness of your situation. You even tried blasting music as loud as you possibly could, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Matt. You knew you'd end up in his bed, and you weren't mad. But you felt stuck

9:45

He greets you with his usual easy smile and a warm hug, and you both slip into his bedroom. "Want a puff?" He says holding the blunt in front of you. "I'm good. I've actually been trying to quit"

He nods and turns his music down. before laying down on his bed beside you. "I missed you so much Y/N". You hated how your stomach flipped and spun every time he was near you. You turn your head and smile "I've missed you more matt." He's already buzzed, He's more giddy than usual. He still has a smile on his face while his eyes shoot from your eyes and your lips over and over again. 

"You're the prettiest girl i've ever met" He says staring into your eyes. "I love you." It's now you realize he's been drinking as well, you smell it in his breath, and there's a bottle of tequila on his nightstand. 

You hated how you loved him but before you knew it, your body flew on top of him as your lips connected. 

He quickly undresses you and pulls down your shorts. Your hands travel every inch of his body as he places hickeys down from your neck to your tits. 

"Y/N" He moans, "I need you, Fuck, you make me crazy".  "Ride me baby" And without a second thought you align his dick with your pussy and start moving.

"Fuck matt!" You squeal as Matt starts thrusting into you. Tears fall from the outer corners of your eyes as you dig your nails deep into his shoulders

"Matt" You whine "i know baby, i know. just take it f'me okay?" He moans as his fingers dig into your hips. It feels like pure ecstasy, But just like ecstasy, it's addictive. It'll be the death of you two one day, But right now it's bliss.

10:40

"I'm close Matt, so close'' You choke out. "Cum f'me baby " That's all he needed to say as you release all over his cock. He came shortly after And you collapse on his chest. 

a familiar mix of pleasure and sadness wash over you. You love these moments, the closeness and the connection, but the underlying feelings you had for him felt like a knife to the heart.

You rest your head on his shoulder as his fingers comb through your hair."You were so good for me baby" He says. His voice is deep and raspy. "i love you"

You knew you shouldn't take it seriously, it only translates to: "I love when you give in and we fuck" But it still made you smile. But instead of saying it back you try and ignore it knowing he probably didn't mean it, and he probably never will

Taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re

[d0g0r0t]

can I pls have yandere Toby??? pretty please

Yandera Toby

TW:GROSS SHIT!!! Obsession, stalking, violence, sh

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKK!!!!!!!

He's low-key so pathetic

Seeing how pretty and kind you are he couldn't help but fall... well become obsessed

Your his!.... who the fuck are they? Why aren't you with him your supposed to be with him not them!

Yea no. He's all over the place when it comes to you

He'll sneak into your house, stealing things that smell like you or remind him of you

Stealing your perfume and using that shit like Febreze. He can barely breath in his own room anymore cause he used the whole bottle, reeking the room with your smell

He steals your deodorant, shampoo, conditioner, bodywash. Just to feel a little closer to you

He takes your underwear every now and then. Over time you'll find it on your door step all... sticky and.. what the fuck is that smell?

It's gross.

He takes your worn out shirts ALOT. You always looking threw your closet trying to find that one band tee the just suddenly disappeared

He'll give them back once he has you <3

Leaving you with little hickeys and red bruises on your neck when you sleep

He loves seeing you wake up in the morning confused on why you have these marks on your throat knowing damn well you didn't go out that night

He really does like you. He sees his obsession as a simple crush when it really isnt

He's never had someone he can see romantically so it was weird when he found out he DID love you

He gets emotional. Seeing you with someone else or not by his side

It feels like your betraying him even tho you don't know he exists

He talks about you SO.MUCH

It's like that stupid "hey masky" thing but instead it's "y/n" over and over again

Tim AND Brian have both rocked his shit because he wouldn't shut up

He has so many pictures of you on his walls. Some of you sleep, some of you eating, working, brushing your teeth, bathing. It's insane how many his got of you

He stalks your socials with his victims phones, getting BEN to figure your locations and you WHOLE life story

He knows a little to much about you

"Oh! Y/n order pizza last night at 7:46pm!"

"How... how the fuck do you know that?.."

He knows all of your accounts on and social. He wants to like your stuff but he doesn't want you to know him just yet

He screenshots your stuff and favoring all your videos to the phone

His wallpaper his your face and his password his you name or birthday

His tics slowly started to form around you as well. Him randomly stuttering out your name or something about you

The moment he actually kidnaps you is when he killed everyone you know and love

He's the only one you should love and think about. Just like him!

He holds you in his bed, ropes around you wrists and ankles

He would never put you in some nasty basement your to pretty for something like that

He stares at you for hours. Watching you struggle and squirm as desperate tears stream down your face. His head and arms rested up on the bed as he just watches you

He only keeps you tied you to his bed for a little while

He may be crazy but he's not abusive and wants you to be comfortable... kinda

He never hurts you, or tries not to

The only time he'll hurt you is if you try to leave him

But let's just hope you don't do that

He keeps you locked in his room for God who knows how long

He brings you your favorite goods and drinks and overall treats you well

He knows you won't love him right away but he doesn't want you to hate him

He asks if he can touch you or do certain things

If you say yes he's praising you and thanking you. But if you say no he begs for a bit but understand after a moment

He doesn't want to hurt you, he really doesn't

The idea of you being in pain from his hands reminds him of his father and the way Lyra looked after every beating broke him

He doesn't want to see you like that

He literally BEGS you if he can kiss you. On his hands and knees "PLEASEEEEEEE"

When you do he's shaky and doesn't know where to put his hands. He gets so needy for your lips and becomes a bit aggressive

Biting your lips, shoving his tounge in your mouth. It's wild

He bites at his fingers so much just thinking about you to where he starts bleeding.

Or scratching at his skin at the thought of you with someone else

Sad

NSFW

GROSS SHIT!!!_______________________________________

Jerks off to your pictures every night no questions asked

Uses your underwear as a cum rag hints why it's so gross and sticky

He's moaning your name softly as he cums, whimpering and gripping at the sheets just thinking about how gorgeous you are

CAN NOT control himself around you

He has so little sex life he's like a 14 boy who just hit puberty and can't look at a girl in the eyes

He's tenting so bad it looks actually painful

When you catch him staring at your body he turns in a mess apologizing that he was looking at the he didn't mean it like that. And covering his boner...

The thought of YOU and HIM was like a dream that he knew would never happen.

Feeling your soft gummy walls around him is all he thought about

When ever he touches you he gets needy and wanting to touch you even more

If you two are ACTUALLY involved don't be surprised when randomly you get groped aggressively

He loves seeing you squirming and trembling under him. Soft tears streaming down your pink face as he bucks himself balls deep. Heavenly

SORRY ONCE AGAIN SHIT IS TAKING SO LONGGG

Also ik u didn't ask for NSFW I just had to 💀

[kteezy997]

my desire//t.c.

Warnings: touchy PR subject, cheating, angst, smut, breast worship/sucking, rough sex, kinda sub!Timmy, hair pulling, one slap

This is for entertainment purposes. I know it won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but please be kind❤️

You waited hours for Timothée to get home. He was with her: Kylie Jenner. They had been bound by a promotional contract, and he was forced to go on “dates” with her, to be seen and photographed. According to the press, they had been together for a year. But he was yours way before he was on Jenner's radar.

You knew that it was for his career and nothing more. The public didn’t know who you were or that you were in his life. You agreed to sit on the sidelines and be his secret, only because you loved him so much. You’d hide from the entire world with him, if it meant you could have him in some capacity.

But tonight, it had gone on too long. Why wasn’t he back yet? Could he really not get away? Was he enjoying spending time with her? As the hours dragged on, with you sitting alone in your apartment, you feared the worst: he was cheating on you with her, for real.

The fear turned into anger quickly. How could he give her so much of his time? That alone was cheating. That was betrayal. He was supposed to be with you, talking and laughing with you, not her. You didn’t want to believe that he would go to bed with her.

Finally, into the early morning hours, he came through the door, looking rather exhausted. If you weren’t mistaken, his skin looked a little flushed, and was that sweat on his hairline?

“Where have you been?” you demanded as soon as he came through the door.

“Babe, I didn’t think you’d still be up-" he was obviously surprised to be confronted by you, and he fumbled with his words.

“Answer me, Timothée.” you crossed your arms, feeling like a parent scolding their teenager who had been out passed their curfew.

“You know where I was.” he said lowly, taking his jacket off, tossing it onto the table. He turned to open the refrigerator.

“No, I know who you were with. What were you doing with her?”

“Nothing, baby. Just lost track of time, that’s all.” he insisted, grabbing a bottle of water.

“Lost track of time? With your fake girlfriend while your actual girlfriend was waiting for you?”

He turned to face you, taking a swig of the water, “I didn’t know you were waiting for me. I thought you were going out with your friends. I figured you would be asleep when I got home.”

“What the fuck were you doing out this late, Timothée? You’re all sweaty and tired. And you reek of skanky perfume! Tell me the truth, were you fucking her?!”

“Y/n…” he sighed, looking down at his feet.

“Don’t speak to me if it’s going to be a lie.” you spat through your teeth.

He put his hand on his forehead, then ran his fingers through his hair, “Honey, I meant to shower and forget that it even happened!”

“You’re such a bastard.” you scoffed. You hated yourself for thinking that this wouldn’t happen. The woman had fake tits and a fake ass, she posted bikini pictures almost daily, she was thirsted over by millions of followers. You hated that you thought that Timmy would be above that, and besides, he had you, right?

“It meant nothing to me, I fucking swear! I had to do it!”

“Oh, fuck you!” you felt the anger coursing through your veins. Your heart rate thumped all over your body.

“No, really, babe. She needs to believe that it’s a real relationship, and she wanted to fuck, so I had to. But it was just business,” he reached out for your hand, but you pulled away as soon as he touched you, “it wasn’t like how it is with you.” his voice broke.

“Holding her hand, a few kisses for the cameras are one thing, but I never thought you’d do this. I thought you were better than this.” you said, feeling your throat tighten. You turned your back to him. You were so pissed. All you could see was the two of them together. Kylie with her skinny arms and legs wrapped around the body of the love of your life, both of them sweating and breathing hard.

“Please, forgive me for this stupid thing with her. It will be over soon, I promise you. And we can have our normal life back. I’ll do anything!” he got on his knees in front of you, pleading and holding your hands in his, the persistence in his voice was palpable.

“Timothée.” you shook your head, feeling tears threatening your eyes. It was all so much to bear. You tried to get the images of him with her out of your mind.

“Please, stay with me. I love you. You’re the one I want. You have my desire, not her.” he nestled his face into your stomach, wrapping his arms around your body, “She’s nothing to me. I’m sorry you’d have to deal with this. You are my world. Tonight was a mistake. It will never happen again, you have my word, y/n. Please, stay with me.”

You put your hand on the bed of curls atop his head, combing your fingers through it, “I think I need to sleep on this. It’s just a lot right now.”

Timmy pressed his hands into your back, and you could hear him starting to cry. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You took ahold of his arms, prying them off of you, “You have to stop. Let me go, Timmy. I have to go to bed. Stop.”

He complied, letting you remove his arms from your body, he sat back on his knees. “I love you, y/n.”

You saw the tears run onto his cheeks, you knew that he was truly broken. At this point, you were glad that he felt so terrible. “I just can’t be around you right now.”

…….

You didn’t get much sleep at all, but morning came, and you found Timmy sleeping on the couch. You watched him sleep for a moment, wondering about all the things he did with Kylie last night. Did he put his mouth on her tits? Did he perform oral sex on her? Did she blow him? Did he like it? Did he get off watching her perfect bubble butt as he rammed into her from behind? Was she better in bed than you?

You noticed that he had changed his clothes from the previous night. He must have showered when you went to bed.

You wanted to hate him, to be angry and loud and throw things at him. But you couldn’t. It would be hard to go on from here, you knew that. Maybe in time, you could forgive him. You had never loved anyone like you loved Timmy.

You just wanted those images out of your head. He was supposed to love you. He was supposed to be loyal to you. He was supposed to protect your heart. You wanted to take back what was yours.

You leaned over, placing your hand on his shoulder, shaking him.

Timmy woke up, barely able to open his eyes, but you didn't care how tired or groggy he was.

"Was she better than me?" you asked in a demanding tone.

He furrowed his brows, squinting, "What?" his voice was soft as a whisper.

"You heard me."

He shook his head, "No. Of course not. Y/n, I didn't want this for you. Please, don't compare. She means nothing to me." he sighed, "Fuck it, I'm going to cancel the contract."

"Well, you'll lose the money that the Karjenner clan is making you."

"I don't give a shit! It's ruined me and you. It’s making you doubt yourself.” he was the most distraught you had ever seen him. “It's clouded my judgement, it's made me do something disgusting, I betrayed you. I'm fucking done with all of it." he grabbed his phone from the side table, dialing a number in an instant.

You heard everything. It was a lengthy process, talking to different members of his management team, his agent, and representatives of the Jenners. He didn't stop. He left no stone unturned until everyone knew that he was finished with this PR deal.

It felt like hours, but once the dust settled, Timmy sat back down on the couch next to you. "It's over." he said, "They have some paperwork for me to sign to finalize everything, but it's definitely finished. I'm so fucking done with it."

"Well, if that's what you want, then I'm happy for you." you said, keeping your tone neutral.

He inhaled, drawing a hefty breath back out, he looked over at your hand as it sat on your lap, nonverbally asking to take it in his.

You gave him a small nod.

He reached over and tucked his fingers under yours, gripping your hand gently, "I'm sorry for what I did. I hope you find a way to forgive me and we can move forward. I'll never hurt you again."

"And I'll kill you if you do." you said, not a hint of falseness in your words. You put your hand on his in your lap and leaned over, kissing his lips.

He was obviously surprised by this, and he kissed you back with a fierceness.

You pulled away, resting your hand on his chest before taking his shirt into your fist. "Now, I want you to fuck me so good that you forget her name."

Timmy wasted no time, he grabbed the back of your head, pulling you into a heated kiss. He introduced his tongue and you let it dance with yours. He pulled you onto his lap, tugging on your clothes.

You complied, taking your clothes off quickly and then steadying yourself on his lap.

He cupped your breasts, and stopped kissing you to latch onto your nipple. He sucked your breast like it was sweet nectar from the gods. He suckled the bud, licked all around it all while rolling your other nipple between his fingers.

You were moaning, clutching the back of his head as he put his lips around your other nipple. He sucked your tits like it was his job, and you got incredibly wet. "Are you hard for me?" you asked, nearly out of breath as you started to grind against his crotch.

"Yes, my love. Take my cock into that sweet pussy." he breathed out, looking up at you like you were a drop of water in the deep desert.

You slid the front of his pants down, letting his hard cock free. It stood perpendicular to his body with drops of precum starting to leak from his slit. You brought your hips forward, and you and Timmy held his cock for you to sink down onto.

He slid in as you bottomed out, you felt the wonderful stretch of him. You put your hands on his shoulders, instantly bobbing your hips up and down.

Timmy started to pant softly. He held you by the waist, just watching you fuck him. He licked his lips, and eventually his mouth fell open, like he was in awe of you. “Yes, baby, feels so good.” he praised, giving your hips a light squeeze.

You moved your hands from his shoulders to the ledge of the back of the couch behind him. “Mm.” you whimpered, slowing your pace, but taking him deeper.

He put his hands on your breasts, softly rubbing your nipples with his thumbs. “I love you. I love you so much.” he cooed, leaning in to you and kissing your neck.

You kept thrusting your hips along his cock, creating that warm sensation inside of you. You felt amazing, you let your head fall back.

The next thing you knew, he tightened his grip around your body, causing you to still yourself completely. He thrusted his hips upward, his cock pumped in and out at full speed.

You held onto him, clenching your eyes shut, feeling the friction, feeling the tip of his cock in your stomach. “Fuck!” you cried. You dug your nails into his arms. “Timmy!” You could hear the squelching, wet sounds from your pussy, and the slapping of his thighs on your ass.

“Aw fuck!” you heard him mutter under a ragged breath. Just after, you felt his sperm shooting into you. You moaned at the feeling, wiggling your hips on him.

Timmy rested his head on your chest for a moment, and kissed your breasts. He didn’t pull out, he didn’t let you go. He put his arms around you and regained his pace inside you.

The build up was insane, you came before you even realized it was happening. He must have sensed your release, because he slowed his pace. He gave your ass a squeeze, and pumped his hips into you, lazily.

As you rode through your high, you met each other’s thrusts, moving together. You locked eyes with him. They were deep green, and all sexed out. You put your hands in his hair, tugging on his curls.

Timmy groaned as you pulled on his hair. He put his head back on the couch.

You attacked his mouth with sloppy kisses. You had stopped fucking him, but he was softly rutting into you. You scraped your teeth along his jaw and bit at his neck. You let go of his hair, pushing it out of his face.

The curls were out of his eyes. He looked at you like you were the only being on earth. “I fucking love you.” he huffed out, a silly grin on his face.

You leaned back a little, then brought your hand up. You opened up your palm, a threw a swift slap across his cheek.

His head snapped to the side, and he groaned in pain. He put his hand on the cheek you had slapped, then turned his head back.

“I love you too. But I don’t like you right now.”

Timmy rubbed his cheek, “I can live with that.”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl

[goobtopia]

need a rafe x fem plus size reader 🧎‍♀️ maybe a grumpy sunshine moment too where he’s mean to everyone except her 🫣

it’s a little blurb but i hope this is what you were asking for!!

!! 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!

warnings: allusions to sex (no actual smut), groping, kissing, domestic!rafe, swearing, sexual dialogue, f!reader

disclaimer: the original edit of this blurb contains poor choices that i made, that have now been edited due to a criticism i received in this ask, here, you can read the original line, the critique, and my response. one line i wrote originally, in particular, could possibly offend or hurt you so please consider this before reading as the goal of this disclaimer is transparency and accountability rather than to cause any further harm. thanks for reading and all criticism is welcome.

[requests are open]

☆ masterlist ☆

-

You and Rafe had begun to look like your very own Home Living magazine, you only moved in last year and since the dust had finally settled Rafe was letting you go wild with the interior design. You had to hire help for some things like the dining and the living room but almost everything else was by your own creation. You'd been having a lot of parties.

No kids yet and you were still fresh out of college so it was the perfect spot for all your friends from your undergrad program and Rafe's buddies to come let loose.

"Hey are you not feeling okay?" You whispered, sliding into the seat beside Rafe who had a scowl on his face and a warm beer. "No it's fine I just-" He cut himself off letting things go silent for a moment.

"Just what?" You questioned, hoping he wasn't starting to feel sick or anything. "You told me to chill out tonight but I can't help it, they're not using the coasters on your new coffee table and spilling champagne on the wood floors. These people are animals." You smiled, touching him on the shoulder.

"First of all, they're our friends and it's our coffee table." You reminded him, soothing the skin under his shirt by rubbing it as he takes a swig from the bottle. "You just put so much work into this baby, I hate to see them ruin it." He whispered sweetly, leaning his head on your shoulder allowing you to run you hands through his straight hair.

"Baby the wood's all sealed and I doubt a little bit of champagne is gonna make our floors buckle. Can you at least try to enjoy yourself?" You cozy up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he can't help but smile and give you a quick kiss. "Of course baby, consider it forgotten." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

"You smell nice baby, is that your perfume?" He takes a deep inhale as you twirl a piece of your hair, "New shampoo, it's strawberries." You were both in your own little world at this point when he landed another kiss on your awaiting lips. "Yummy." He mumbles, sliding his tongue into your mouth deepening the kiss as he travels lower, grabbing the side of your hip.

"Y'know what might really help me forget?" He asks, pulling away from you so suddenly it's like he's teasing you. Daring you to tell him no when you have him so desperate. "Oh, yeah?" You ask him to continue raising a brow in the process. He pulls you over his lap, standing from his spot on the couch with you in his arms.

"Getting to spend some time in this cute ass of yours." He says loud enough for only you to hear as he squeezes your thighs, making you bite your lip at him.

"But Rafe, the party!" You whine, holding on to his shoulders and looking around the room that was uninterested in your theatrics. "What party?" He groaned, leading you his favorite room in the new house, the bedroom. "If I don't have your tits in my mouth in the next 30 seconds l'm kicking everyone out."

[le-panda-chocovore]

Toji isn't a man of words, yet alone feelings. But he knows when he is in love, he just finds it hard to express himself. What he doesn't know is that it shows. He shows it, all the time, and it's so clear and obvious that Shiu feels his heart stop each time it happens. It's all in the little gestures, the soft looks, and the daily things Toji does when he's with him.

Toji doesn't sleep much, because he doesn't like to and because he's a really light sleeper, and noise can wake him. So he's often the first to open his eyes in the morning, but he doesn't move. He lets the sun rises by the window and lights up the room with its warm rays. He looks at Shiu still in the dream world, breathing lightly, and looking so comfortable. Toji never wakes him up, but he realizes immediately when Shiu stops dreaming. The first thing he does is kissing him. On the forehead, on the cheek, or in the lips, depending on the mood. And he teases, "Hey sleeping beauty, welcome back to the living world." And it makes Shiu groans, but he likes it. It's sweet, it's soft, and it helps him waking up better.

Toji isn't a good cook, but he knows Shiu is excellent at that. And Shiu hates having Toji in the kitchen because the man is a mess and makes a mess. He keeps talking nonsense and tries to eat the food Shiu's cooking. If not, he tries to steal food in the fridge. But Shiu can't bring himself to kick the man out when Toji slides behind him and puts his hands and Shiu's hips. Toji then lets his chin on Shiu's shoulder, maybe gives him a kiss on the cheek or the neck, and calmly hums. His grip is light enough to let Shiu move freely. Sometimes he asks, "what are you cooking today ?" and sometimes he doesn't say a thing. Sometimes he opens his mouth to ask for a taste of the food, and sometimes Shiu feels generous enough to let him have it.

Toji is a freeloader, he has no shame in that and doesn't plan to give Shiu his money back at all. But he can be nice sometimes, he doesn't like feeling in debt and Shiu has been generous toward him for a long time. So Toji tries to find ways to pay him back. At first, when their relationship was something blurry between Coworkers with Benefits and an actual couple, he proposed to suck Shiu's dick, or any kind of good sex. Now, Toji makes sure not to eat Shiu's favorite dish when he grabs something from the fridge. He finds pretty jewelry and perfume at the place of the target he just killed so he takes it and brings it to Shiu's place because he knows he finished Shiu's expensive shampoo the week prior. He buys something (food, clothes, keychain, some pretty decoration) with the money from a job he took and then "forgets" it at Shiu's place, and never asks for it back.

Toji doesn't like alcohol, but whenever they eat together he takes a bottle of wine out of Shiu's cellar to put it on the table, because he knows Shiu likes his breaded pork with some Merlot. And when Shiu looks like he had a rough day, Toji looks for some whiskey or soju and pretends he wants to drink something awful to go with the mood, but in the end he's just giving his glass to Shiu.

Toji is very soft after sex, he is actually a sweetheart once his desires are satisfied. He strokes Shiu's face and let his fingers runs slowly against his spine and smiles so lovely when he feels the body shivers against him. He asks Shiu if he's fine, if he wants to shower now or later, if he needs a drink or anything. And if Toji topped, he carries Shiu to the shower and helps him get clean, then carries him outside the bathroom to the bed, and he cuddles against the man until they both fall asleep. If Toji was the bottom, he would lean towards Shiu's touch and breathe deeply against his skin. He would leave little kisses on Shui's shoulder, neck, and cheeks, and he'd hum softly when his man slid a hand in his hair.

Toji knows his boyfriend is tense whenever he has to deal with some clients, and he knows Shiu is worried after a big job. Because people in the underworld aren't clean, and because the man gets people killed for a living, and they both know the risks. It happened before, it can and will happen again. Sometimes the family of a target tries to reach for him and take revenge. Sometimes a contractor betrays the engagement and tries to put Shiu to silence. And sometimes, Shiu is simply very tired to negotiate with rich assholes. He doesn't sleep well when this happens. So Toji rolls in the bed and spoons him, and kisses the back of his neck or head and says it's fine. He feels Shiu relax a bit in his arms, so he kisses him again and holds him closer.

Toji isn't a coffee drinker, even though he can occasionally enjoy a cup. But when Shiu spends the entire day in his office, answering calls and writing emails, not taking time for lunch and looking physically and mentally exhausted, Toji turns on the coffee machine and brings his man a cup, shuffles his hair, and teases him about the face he's making. Sometimes it convinces Shiu to give up and take a break, other times it lightens him enough to endure the work a bit longer.

Toji is an addicted gambler, but he decided early in the relationship that he would never use Shiu's money for his bets.

There are plenty of things that Toji isn't. First of all, he's not a sorcerer. It doesn't stop him from killing them, or anyone trying to hurt Shiu. There are also plenty of things that Toji is, and very few are positive. But for sure, Toji is a man in love, and the words never leave his mouth, but his kisses and his fingers and his eyes scream them as loud as they can every day. And it's enough for Shiu. It's plenty of enough.

[innerfare]

Random Mihawk Headcanons

Summary: a random collection of Mihawk headcanons

CW: None // SFW

———

Can’t stop adopting strays to save his life. He’s a sucker for a mangy cat or unwashed pirate. Perona was quite literally the only hygienic guest he’d ever had at his castle. Zoro’s bathhouse allergy only further endeared him to Mihawk. 

Also such a cat person in general. He’s introverted, too. Prefers the peace and quiet, enjoys sitting with a glass of wine, a good book, and a purring cat in his lap. That being said, for whatever reason, he just can’t help but gravitate toward rambunctious dogs who get mud on the carpet (i.e., Shanks). 

In general, has a magnet pull toward things he disdains and even outright despises. In relationship terms, this means he claims to want someone who will make him better, but he will really only go for someone who will make him worse. King of guilty pleasures.

Suffered the loss of someone he loved dearly when he was quite young. Shanks knew the person, too, thus their bond. The person died at the hands of a marine who saw no consequences, thus beginning Mihawk's reign as the dreaded Marine Hunter.

Is actually a horrible shot. Can't fire a gun or bow and arrow to save his life. Claims to dislike these weapons and refuses to fire them because an honorable fight can only take place in close quarters (or something like that) in order to save face. Only Shanks, Beckman, and Zoro know he can't shoot.

Smells so good. Has a fondness for jewels and shiny metal, fine wine, and other such luxuries, but expensive perfume has always been his weakness. A bottle was the first thing he purchased after his first big score as a pirate. 

Complains incessantly about being bored but is such a creature of habit that it’s a cage of his own making, low key. He wants excitement, but he also doesn’t like sleeping in a bed that isn’t his own or sipping wine he doesn’t like from a glass he did not hand select. He’s only grown more particular with age. 

Has a sentimental side. The type to keep small mementos to remind him of various events and people. Sometimes goes back through these mementos when he'd had a bit too much wine to drink. These include everything from his first sword to a copy of Shanks' first wanted poster.

Hates how people act around him- the infamous Mihawk. Be it kissing his ass or tripping over their words because they’re scared, he hates being ogled. Actually bonded with Crocodile over how annoying the masses, as he calls them, are in that regard. 

Claims to hate it when the Red Hair pirates come to stay because they always make a mess of things, but smiles to himself every time he passes the tapestry a drunk Lucky Roux somehow managed to rip a hole in despite its place so high on his wall. 

Though he had a perfectly logical reason for telling Crocodile to spare Buggy, he would have gone to bat for the Clown regardless due to his connection to Shanks, not that he would ever admit to this. Why Shanks is soft on Buggy is completely lost on Mihawk. 

Doesn’t do anything half-assed, and part of that means reading up on everything he does. Gardening? Stack of books. Cooking? Another stack of books. Interior design? More books. 

Total wine snob (obviously). Likes his wine as red as blood and dry as Alabasta. If it’s sweet, he doesn’t consider it to be a wine and scoffs at it. Only respects wine drinkers who share his particular taste. Nearly died when he found Buggy’s cellar full of rosé. 

Has repaired roofs and walls, but is a bit lost on how to decorate his castle beyond high-quality basics (silk sheets, fine glassware, etc.). Would appreciate someone’s thoughts on wall art, fine china, and furniture. 

If Beckman were not in the picture, would take his place as Shanks’ first mate in a heartbeat. Would also never admit this, pretends to hate the idea of being on a crew. Also has sexual tension with Beckman that has never been addressed, probably never will be.  

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 6: IN LIMBO*

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 5 | MASTERLIST | READ CH 7 [soon]

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: ANGSTY, SMUT, unprotected sex, language, intense anxiety genre: angst, fluff, slow(ish) burn romance wc: ~7.6k a/n: L'Équilibre Caché means hidden balance

A couple of months passed since you and Trent made things official. You weren’t sure how time flew by so quickly, but it felt right. In the beginning, you were inseparable; always at his house or your apartment, grabbing late night eats, or waking up to the best cuddles and lazy kisses. However, recently things slowed down. Life happened. Trent was busy with football, and you were buried deep in preparation for your perfume launch. It was taking longer than you anticipated, thanks to a very handsome distraction. 

You glanced around Les Notes d’Amour, inhaling the mix of floral, citrus, and spice elements that lingered in the air. The launch was still a few months away, but your nerves were starting to creep in because nothing felt solid yet. As much as you hated to admit it, this was your most personal creation and you didn’t want to mess it up. You sat at the counter with your lavender notebook open, absentmindedly scribbling ideas for any new scents you could add as you watched a live interview of Trent on your phone. God, he looked so good. How could someone look so sexy post match? You continued scribbling and jotting down ideas on different pages for inspiration. One page was blank, except for a small doodle of a solar eclipse in the corner with a sentence written that said ‘I want you for as long as the stars shine’, but you didn’t notice it as you flipped past since you were too occupied by how good he looked on your screen. Seeing his smile always gave you butterflies, even if it was just on a phone screen. 

“Mate, I gotta ask..” the interviewer said, leaning forward. “what aftershave are you wearing? You smell amazing.”

You froze, the pen dropping against the notebook paper immediately. 

Oh, shit. Please don’t.

Trent grinned, clearly enthralled by the compliment as he reached in his jacket. “Ahh, this? It's custom..one of a kind actually. Made just for me by my gi–umm… someone close.”

No, no, no. He almost said girlfriend, there’s no way no one caught that.

“It's called Rêveur,” he said, pulling out the bottle and holding it up for the camera. He tried to be subtle, he really did, but he failed miserably—like always. He turned the bottle in an attempt to hide the logo, but in his excitement he twisted it back to reveal the full label: Rêveur by Les Notes d’Amour. Y/N L/N.

Fuuuuuuuck. 

You felt your stomach drop. This was it. The final puzzle piece the media needed to confirm you were his girlfriend. The suspicions were already there of course, but there wasn’t a clear and definite answer until now. Your phone started going off immediately as banners popped up at the top of your screen. Emails, notifications, messages, website inquiries. You stared at the screen while the interviewer looked at the bottle with curious eyes. Trent was completely clueless about leaking the label. He stood there with the biggest smile on his face, going on about how special it was and how much he loved it. It would’ve been a cute moment if it weren’t for the logo being caught on screen in 4k quality. You grabbed your phone, frantically texting him as your fingers moved at the speed of light.

WTF??? LOGO ON SCREEN!! YOU HAD ONE JOB

You sat there, fumbling back and forth between the live interview and your texts as you waited for his response. There was no way he was going to see your text while he was on camera, but it was worth a shot. Your anxiety started creeping in like an iron grip. Both of you were trying so hard to keep things lowkey, and he just tossed your name out there like it was nothing. You swiped back to your texts, adding another message as your fingers typed furiously. There was no way out of this anymore, it was done. Fully revealed.

?????? YOU JUST OUTED US LIVE ON TV

Everything was blowing up, everyone had seen your name. “Fucking fantastic,” you muttered under your breath as you flipped your phone face down on the counter. “This is going to be a disaster.” 

The door chimed about an hour later with a group of teenagers barging in, extremely loud and voices filled with energy. They couldn’t have been older than sixteen. You immediately felt your blood pressure rise when you saw them eyeing the fragrances and giggling. 

“Aye, is this the place that made Trent’s aftershave?” one of the boys asked, already making his way to the shelves to pick up a tester fragrance that was definitely not Rêveur. You never planned on selling it. It was supposed to be something special—something just for Trent.

“Yeah bro, it’s gotta be,” his friend answered, spraying half of a tester bottle in the air. The sweet, musky scent of tonka bean and coconut filled the room instantly as you saw him juggling the bottle so carelessly. 

“Be careful with that!” you called out, stepping forward just as the bottle slipped from his hands and shattered on the floor. The scent of coconut and tonka bean flooded the room and you felt your chest tighten. 

Fucking perfect.

One of the girls snickered. “Oops, sorrrrryyyy” she said, though it was clear she really didn’t give a fuck. You forced a smile but internally, you were screaming.

Get out, get out, get out.

“Is Trent your boyfriend or somethin’?” another boy asked, picking up another bottle and spraying it into the air. “That’s ace.”

No, not ace. Stressful. Stressful as hell, actually. 

After what felt like an eternity, they finally left, slamming the door behind them in a fit of giggles as you tried to clean up the mess. There was an overwhelming scent of tonka bean and coconut which was starting to make your head pound. You barely had time to breathe before the next customer walked in. The woman was in her mid-fifties with a stiff bob, you know the one. She immediately stormed up to the counter with a sense of entitlement and you knew exactly what was coming next. 

“Excuse me,” she said, dripping with impatience. “I’ve been calling for over an hour and no one has answered. Give me that aftershave everyone’s talking about. I need it for my husband. The one Trent Alexander-Arnold mentioned on the telly.”

Your headache intensified immediately. “Sorry ma’am, it’s not for sale,” you replied, trying to stay polite as possible. You knew this lady was going to be the most annoying person ever and you weren’t in the mood for it. At all. “Not for sale?” She blinked, clearly offended. “That’s ridiculous. Who would make something, advertise it, and not sell it? What about the customer experience? That’s just bad business.” You took a deep breath, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “It’s custom. It’s not available to the public.”

“Well that’s poor planning, isn’t it?” she snapped. “What kind of business is this? I want to speak to the manager.”

Lady, I AM the manager. Fuck off. Just LEAVE. 

You took a deep breath before responding, “I own the place. The aftershave isn’t for sale..sorry.” After hearing a long spiel about how terrible your business model was, she finally left after muttering something about never coming back. Thank god. You exhaled, rubbing your hands against your aching temples. 

Fuck, I need a paracetamol. 

But of course, the universe was not on your side today. The door chimed again, this time it was an American tourist in head to toe designer. You immediately cringed seeing the abundance of huge branded logos clashing against each other: Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Fendi and Prada all in one outfit? Jesus, did she hop on a plane right after visiting Rodeo Drive? “Ohmygawd, is this where Trent got his cologne?!” she exclaimed, her valley girl accent was unmistakable. She had to be from California. Behind her, her bored looking boyfriend leaned against a display, not interested in the slightest.

Ugh. Here we go again.

“I like, really need to get it for my boyfriend,” she continued, her voice in complete vocal fry. “Do you guys have it?”

“It’s not for sale, sorry,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure. Her face fell as she flipped her blonde hair back dramatically with a pout. “Ugh, seriously?? I totally would’ve bought like five bottles. I bet it smells soooo good.”

“Babe, can we go? I wanna hit the pub before they close.” her boyfriend asked, lazily scrolling through his phone. After a few more whiny complaints, she finally left and dragged her very disinterested boyfriend behind her. You were standing in the middle of the shop as the scent of coconut and tonka bean lingered in the air, your nerves fried and head pounding so hard it was starting to make you feel nauseous and dizzy. Customers poured in all day begging for ‘The Trent Scent’. That’s what they were calling it now instead of Rêveur. It had officially gone viral.

You closed your eyes once people stopped shuffling in, trying to give yourself a few minutes of peace from the overwhelming scent and incessant ringing. But of course, the universe had other ideas. Your phone rang and as soon as you glanced at the screen, your stomach twisted immediately–Mum.

Fucking hell. Out of all days?

You debated not answering, but you knew she would keep calling until you did. This wasn’t going to be a casual check-in, and you definitely didn’t have the energy for a follow up interrogation later on. It was best to get it over with now. You sighed, swiping to accept the call.

“Hi Mum.”

“Y/N! We were just talking about you!” Your mother’s voice was overly cheery, which meant she was about to start going on a long winded spiel about how proud she was—of the wrong things. “That’s...great,” you replied, already feeling a cloud of exhaustion sit over you. “Your dad and I just saw that interview with the footballer, Trent,” she continued, completely skipping over the fact that she didn’t even ask you how you were. “It’s wonderful you’re making such good connections. He’s very successful Y/N. Exactly what you need in your life.” You pressed your lips together, fighting your instinct to hang up right then and there. Of course that’s all she cared about. “Yeah…” you said vaguely, not wanting to get into the nitty gritty details. You weren’t going to tell your parents you were on the verge of a breakdown or that you were struggling to keep it together. They wouldn’t understand. They never did. 

“You’re really making something of yourself now,” your dad chimed in, they must’ve had you on speaker. “I always knew you could do it. You’re finally setting a proper example for your brother and sister.”Ah, yes. That constant reminder. The example you were supposed to be setting. A perfect, polished version of yourself that never existed. They wanted you to be perfect so badly that they were willing to go to extremes. It was never about you; it was always about how you looked to everyone else, even your younger siblings. Your chest tightened at the thought of your brother and sister. You loved them more than anything. They were the only reason you still kept in touch with your parents at all. But this constant pressure to be perfect and be their shining trophy was suffocating you.

I really need a holiday, you thought to yourself. 

“Mum..Dad…” You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice from trembling. “I’ve been really busy with work, it’s been... a lot.”

“We’re so proud of you,” your mom chimed in next. “We always knew you could achieve good things. With Trent you’ll go even further! It’s important to have a man like him supporting you. You lucked out with that one.”

Lucked out?? How am I related to these people?

Your grip tightened on the phone. This happened every time. They didn’t care about you. They only cared about what Trent’s success could do for their image of you. An image you were struggling to mirror. An image that was threatening to crack.

“I–I’m not with him because of his career,” you muttered. But of course, they didn’t hear you over their vain voices. “Ezzie and Ziggy really look up to you, Y/N. This is exactly the type of relationship they should see. A real power couple. Now they know what success looks like” your dad added. That comment stung in more ways than one. Your parents usually spoke about your siblings by using their actual names–Esme and Isaac. You gave them the nicknames Ezzie and Ziggy because they were twins, plus, their nicknames sounded a lot cuter than Esme and Isaac. You were the only person who called them that–you had a myriad of nicknames for them, but your parents only used those nicknames when they wanted to get under your skin. It was used it as a manipulation tactic, a way to say ‘Hey, don’t fuck this up this time. They look up to you’. It made your skin crawl, each word they spoke felt like a punch to the gut. They didn’t care if you were happy, if you were stressed beyond belief, or if you even wanted that type of attention. All they saw was status and an image of success that they could parade around to the world. Pressure began building in your chest which made it harder to breathe. Your voice came out strained, desperate to end the call. “I have to go. Still working.”

“Oh, of course,” your mum said in a light tone, completely unaware that you were on the verge of an anxiety attack. “We’re so thrilled. We always knew what you were capable of.”

“Um, y–yeah. Bye, talk later.”

You hung up before they could say anything else. Your hands started shaking as soon as you set the phone down. The shop was silent but the lights felt bright suddenly, the tonka bean and coconut scent in the air made you feel physically ill. The weight of their words was crushing you and pressing down on your chest until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes. You didn’t want to let yourself break and tried to blink the tears back. The tightness in your chest wouldn’t let up. It felt like the soft, creme colored walls were threatening to close in on you. The weight of their expectations, the pressure to be perfect..it was suffocating you from the inside out.

I’m not enough. I’m never enough. Why can’t I just be me? 

You squeezed your temples as the throbbing in your head from the spilled perfume pulsed in time with your heartbeat. The heavy scent of coconut and tonka bean was suffocatingly sweet, squeezing you. Your mind kept whispering, negative words echoing like the cruellest reminder that you would never be good enough. You pressed a hand against your forehead, trying to ease the pounding but it got worse. Tears streamed down your face before you could stop them, spilling over as thoughts settled on you like the world’s largest boulder.

E and Z still think I’m the only person in this world who has it together. I have to keep it together. For them.

You couldn’t stand the idea of failing them. They were one of the few people who saw you for who you really were. The twins were the first two people to believe in you even when you didn’t believe in yourself. They tested every scent you made, bragging to all their friends about how their sister was the best in the industry.

Ziggy’s face flashed in your mind. He was always smiling. It was the same infectious grin that reminded you so much of Trent. He had the same confidence as him, walking onto a pitch like he owned it despite only being fifteen. He was so protective over you and Ezzie. He played with his heart on his sleeve, always the first to support his teammates just like Trent. And then there was Ezzie. She was sharp, stylish, and always quick with a comeback. She had an arsenal of them ready to go at any time. She looked like a mini version of you, but acted just like Camille. She had the same fiery spark, and the confidence to walk in a room and own it; all while dressed in the latest fashion trends. She never missed a beat and was always ready to roll her eyes at the world and give you tips on how things should be done. She was a little diva. You admired her but could never quite match her wit. Although beneath all her sass, she had the biggest heart. 

The twins were your heart, your compass when you were lost in a sea of thoughts. 

Ezzie would tell me to stop being dramatic and ‘lock it up’ like Camille, you thought. The tears were still streaming down your face. 

“I can’t let them down,” you whispered.

You made your way to the back of the shop, each step felt heavier and it was getting harder to focus on anything other than the sharp, dizzying pain in your head. You couldn’t think straight with the wave of panic rising inside of you. As you stumbled to the back you started thinking about Trent.

What’s he going to think when he finds out I can’t handle this? He’s not going to want me anymore.

You were feeling lightheaded; it felt like you were floating outside your own body...like you were watching everything happen from a distance. You were here but not really here. Your mind was trying to escape the suffocating pressure wrapping around you. You gripped the counter for support when you made it to the back room. The room felt like it was spinning and your breathing was fast and shallow.

He needs someone who can handle the pressure of being with him..I’m failing him..and everyone.

You saw Trent’s smiling face in the back of your head. Something that made you feel butterflies a few moments ago was now making you feel like you were burning alive.

Maybe this is a sign. Maybe I misread everything about us. I should’ve seen this coming.

Your heart raced, vision tunneled; all you could do was stand there, frozen in place and unable to think past the storm within you. Just when you felt like you may pass out, the door to the shop opened again but you barely registered the sound of the bell in your dissociative haze. Camille’s voice cut through the storm, “Y/N?! why aren’t you answ–”

You blinked and tried to focus, but the room was still spinning and it took every ounce of effort just to turn around and face her. She took one look at you and immediately crossed the room toward you.

“Hun...what’s going on?” her voice was soft yet firm as she reached to steady you. “You have to calm down.” You tried to speak and tell her you were fine but your words wouldn’t come out. All you could do was shake your head while tears started streaming down your face again. Camille wouldn’t let you push her away, you tried before early in your friendship as an act of self-sabotage and failed. She led you to the nearest chair and guided you to sit. “Y/N, please breathe. Slow, deep breaths. In. Out. Okay?”

You were trying to follow her instructions but each breath felt forced. Your chest was burning but eventually Camille’s presence grounded you and the world came back into focus. “I love you,” she said, handing you a bottle of water. “but you can't keep doing this to yourself. You’re going to burn out.” You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “I’m fine. I just need a minute,” you croaked. Camille let out a long sigh, “No, you’re not fine. You need help. You can’t keep doing this all by yourself and you know it. You’re stressed.” You wanted to argue that you could handle it but the words died before you could get them out. In actuality, you didn’t know how much longer you could keep going like this. The added pressure of being perfect, the public eye now on you, and a booming business felt like too much at once. Self-sabotage was inevitable, and that was the one thing you were confident you could accomplish with absolute perfection. “I...I can’t hire someone Camille. I can’t. This is the only thing I have control over in my life. It’s mine..” you whispered. Camille shook her head, her expression was soft but serious. “Y/N, you cannot control everything and I need you to realize that. You can’t run this place alone. You’re going to run yourself into the ground, and then what?? What’s left after, huh?” You didn’t respond, you just stared down at the floor, fumbling with the water bottle cap as you twisted the cap around the mouth of the bottle. The thought of letting someone else in and letting go of that last bit of control terrified you after what happened the last time. You already lost so much today. Your privacy...your peace. The shop was the only thing you felt like you had left. Something of your own that could never leave you. “Look..I know you hate it,” Camille countered, as if she was reading your mind. “This shit isn’t sustainable though. You need help whether you like it or not.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. “I really can’t.” Camille’s hand squeezed your shoulder gently. “You don’t have to do it alone, Y/N. You’re going to wear yourself thin and have nothing left to give. I can’t let you go out like that, girl. Even Beyoncé has a team.” Her words pondered over you, a small chuckle escaped from your lips when she mentioned Beyoncé. Deep down you knew she was right, but the fear of letting go still had a hold on you.

“Please” Camille uttered softly. “Let someone help you. I’ll help you look, yeah? I’ll ask my dad if he knows anyone.” Your heart clenched when you heard her and you shook your head quickly. “Camille, no. I can’t let you do that. You’ve already done so much for me. I owe you everything. I can’t–” She cut you off with a gentle laugh. “Y/N, please shut up. You don’t owe me anything. That’s what besties are for, right? You hold me up when I’m down, I got you when you’re down. You’ll never walk alone as long as I'm alive. Never.”

Her words hit you hard as the sincerity of her voice broke through the walls that were suffocating you. “I..um, I’ll think about it,” you whispered in a shaky voice. Camille smiled, pulling you into a hug. “That’s all I’m asking. You don't have to make a decision right now...just let me know. We’ll figure it out later. I got you.” You nodded into Camille’s shoulder but the pounding in your head refused to stop. You pulled away, wincing from the bright lights on the ceiling. “Please tell me you have something for a headache in your bag. My head is fucking killing me ever since those teens smashed L’Équilibre Caché on the floor earlier.” Camille raised an eyebrow, fishing around in her purse. “Oh god…teenagers?”

“Yeahhh,” you groaned, pressing your hand on your forehead. “They came in..sprayed everything, and then one of them dropped it. I never want to smell tonka beans or coconut ever again.” Camille snorted, pulling out a pill and handing it over. “That’s exactly why I never want kids. Absolute chaos and they’re not tidy at all. Ew. Not for me.” You laughed before swallowing the pill down with water. “Today was a disaster. People kept asking for the aftershave I made Trent after I said it wasn’t for sale over and over. Everyone was so fucking rude about it.”

Camille laughed, shaking her head. “And that is exactly why you need help. Let someone else deal with telling people ‘we don’t have that, it’s a custom blend’ a million times a day.”

Trent sat on the plane, headphones on, iPad playing a show he found on Netflix. He was attempting to wind down after the match and leaned his head back against the seat, half listening to the show on his iPad while scrolling mindlessly through his phone until he saw a text from you. His stomach dropped as he sat up in the seat. Both texts hit him like a punch.

Y/N 🌙: WTF? LOGO ON SCREEN!! YOU HAD ONE JOB

Y/N 🌙: ?????? YOU JUST OUTED US LIVE ON TV

His heart pounded as he thought about the interview in his head, trying to piece together what he did wrong. He replayed the interview on his iPad, dread hitting him instantly when he realized he held up the bottle with the logo in full view. He was trying to be careful and keep the logo hidden, but he didn’t. He knew you hated the spotlight. You were always so careful about keeping things between you private and you didn’t want the media to twist your relationship into something it wasn’t. Because of his mistake, you were thrust right into the middle of the lights you wanted to avoid at all costs. Trent rubbed his face with both hands as guilt plagued him. He should’ve been more careful. He knew better than to bring the bottle out in the first place but he was just so excited. He was so caught up in the moment, proud of the scent you created for him, and the meaning behind it. He wanted to show you off so bad, he wanted the world to see how amazing you were despite your bashfulness. Most of all, he wanted you to see yourself in the same light. But because of his excitement, he gave the media and internet sleuths the final piece they needed for their puzzle. He glanced out the window of the plane as the night sky stretched beyond the wing. His teammates were joking and talking around him but all he could think about was you.

I fucked up. I really fucked up.

Your panicked texts replayed over in his mind.

I should’ve been more careful. What was I thinking?

He closed his eyes, leaning back in the seat as he turned some music on in his headphones to drown out the laughter surrounding him on the plane. All he was thinking about is how you were feeling right now. He wished he would have seen your texts sooner. He knew you were probably overwhelmed and panicking about what was going to happen next. He had grown to know your anxiety but didn’t quite know the full extent of it just yet. He knew how much the public eye weighed on you and he just added to that burden.

She didn’t want this and I did it anyway. Fuck..I’m going to lose her.

The rest of the flight home felt like it lasted forever. Every thought in his mind was of you. Would this push you away? Did you even want to be with him after this slip up? Trent clenched his jaw, desperately trying to figure out how he could make this right. The more he thought about it, the more helpless he felt. The interview wasn’t something he could undo. It was a permanent reminder that he hurt you inadvertently. He never wanted you to feel exposed or unsafe because of him.

As the plane descended, he pulled his phone out and stared at the screen. He wanted to call you and apologize. He wanted to explain that it wasn’t intentional, but he didn’t even know if you wanted to talk to him right now. He had no idea you were falling apart back at Les Notes d’Amour. He thought you were still trying to process everything.

I have to fix this. I need her to know I’m sorry. I can’t lose her. I love her.

What if an apology wasn’t enough, though? What if this pushed you too far? The thought of it made his chest tighten and all he could do was sit as he waited for the plane to land. Guilt was suffocating him and he needed to see you. Both of you were so busy and he missed you so much that he could hardly focus on the pitch earlier.

I need to see her but I don’t know what to do.

Trent found himself pacing in his living room after he got home. He was staring at his phone and contemplating his next move like a game of chess. Apologizing was the obvious thing to do, but how was he supposed to fix this? You weren’t like any other girls he dated who wanted to be appreciated with showy gestures, expensive gifts, or extravagant holidays. You weren’t impressed by material things because you could just buy it yourself. You had your own money, your own success, and your own life. How was he supposed to fix things with someone who didn’t need him to save the day? For the first time, he didn’t know what to do to make it right. He called the one person he knew would have the perfect answer: His mum.

“Trent, everything alright? How was the match?” Diane’s voice brought him a sense of comfort but it wasn’t enough to ease the uncertainty swirling around him.

“Mum, I messed up” he said, running a hand over the back of his neck.

“What happened sweetie?”

Trent sighed and he sank into the couch. He explained how he accidentally exposed you during the live interview and how you were probably spiralling from the pressure. His mum listened quietly. She didn’t know who you were, really. They never had the conversation until now.

“And this girl?” Diane began slowly. “Tell me about her.”

“Mum, she created your favorite perfume. But she sold it to a fragrance house so her name wouldn’t be attached to it.”

Diane laughed softly. “And you didn’t think to mention her all this time?”

“I dunno Mum. It wasn’t exactly planned, y’know?” Trent began to talk about you, feeling the tension in his chest ease. He told her about the fateful encounters and how you met by chance, again and again. He told her about how it felt like his own romance movie was being written right before his eyes; he felt like the universe was putting you in front of him for a reason. It scared him, but he knew. “I’m in love with her,” he admitted. “Never felt this way about anyone before. She’s special.” There was silence on the line for a moment and Trent wondered if he said too much.

“You sound very serious about her.”

“I am,” he said. “That’s why I've got no clue what to do. Any other girl, I can just buy something nice and apologize that way.. but she’s not like that. She doesn’t really need anything from me.” His mum was quiet for a little while before her voice softened. “Maybe she doesn’t need you to buy anything. Maybe she just wants to know you’re there. She sounds like a very sweet girl.”

“Yeah…I don’t want to lose her.”

“Then don’t.” Diane said simply. “Be the person she can lean on. She probably just needs your support and understanding.”

Trent stared at his phone as his mother’s words swirled around his mind. He needed to fix this, he needed to talk to you. He needed to do something. But every time his finger hovered over your name in his contacts, doubt washed over him. He was usually so confident. What if you weren’t ready to hear from him? What if you hated him now? Finally, he took a deep breath and rang you, his heart pounding every passing second as the phone rang. 

No answer.

She hates me. 

He frowned, trying to call again but it went to voicemail. “Hey, it’s me. I’m sorry about earlier, Y/N. I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. Just...just call me back please.” He slumped back on the couch, staring at the phone as if you were going to call him back immediately, but nothing came.

She’s probably fuming. She always answers when I call. Fuck.

He didn’t know you weren’t actually avoiding him. You were asleep, completely knackered from the day’s emotional rollercoaster. You were tucked away in one of the few places that was a safe space for you–Camille’s family’s house. If you could call it that. It wasn’t really a home, moreso an estate. It was an architectural masterpiece that made you feel like you were in a château. The estate had sprawling grounds and manicured lawns with fountains that glimmered in the moonlight. The home was white with glass windows that stretched floor to ceiling which offered a panoramic view of the garden. It was the kind of home that showed the world just how powerful and connected Camille’s family was. No one would bother you there. There were immaculately polished marble floors, chandeliers and plush furniture that was custom and handmade. You came here plenty of times, but every time you were there, the sheer scale of the home took your breath away. It was a world away from all the chaos you experienced earlier in the day. You could always flee here and just breathe. Camille and her family opened you with welcome arms every time, insisting it was your home too. Tonight, you were thankful for their support. You needed a space that would allow you to collapse and let go. Just to dream for a little while.

Downstairs, Camille was talking to her dad in his office. The room was lined with bookshelves and decorated with fine art which was a reflection of her family’s intellect. “I’m worried about her,” Camille said, glancing up at her dad. “She really needs help...”

“I have a friend who can help,” her dad said matter-of-factly, scrolling through his phone as he reviewed names. “Wouldn’t take much to get them on board.” Camille sighed as her eyes flickered to the grand bookshelves lining the office. “Yeah..but I don’t want to push her. I don’t think she’s ready yet. I just don’t want to scare her off by making decisions for her, y’know?” Her dad looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Not about making decisions for her. Y/N just needs support and you know that. She’ll come around, give her time.” Camille nodded but she felt helpless in the moment. She wanted to fix this for you and solve everything like she did in the past, but she knew you needed to feel like you were in control.

Upstairs, you were swaddled in a blanket where nothing was expected of you. Camille’s family always made you feel welcome. Her parents were completely different from yours, always loving, generous and supportive of everything she did—everything you did too. 

You were still in uni when you and Camille met, and although you crossed paths before, you didn’t really know each other that well. She was popular and confident, her life always seemed to be perfectly together. You admired her from afar..until one day.

You found out a guy you were seeing wasn’t just seeing you, he was dating Camille too. The initial shock of the situation had you fuming and you didn’t know what to do. Should you confront him or just let it go? Camille didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would be in this type of situation at all. The stars in the sky had other plans, though. Camille was the one to approach you first, her voice calm but fierce. You didn’t know what to expect. Maybe an argument or confrontation? Instead, she laid it all out and was ready to take him down. She was a girl’s girl through and through. 

“So, what are we gonna do about this blockheaded asshole?” she asked, eyes blazing.

Something clicked between the two of you from that point on. You didn’t turn against each other like the guy probably expected. You confronted him, standing side by side as you teared into him about his lies. He never saw the force of two determined women coming his way. There was no turning back after that. You thought Camille had it all together, but she had been hurt just like you. Both of you were more similar than you thought–sharing the same love for fragrances...and apparently men. You two were inseparable after that and became a dynamic duo.

You woke up in the middle of the night feeling sudden nausea wash over you. You groaned softly, clutching the edge of the bed. Your head wasn’t pounding anymore, but the remnants of the stress from earlier was still lodged inside your body. You sat up slowly, steadying your breath as the nausea subsided. You reached for your phone on the bed side table, but when you tapped the screen, it didn’t light up. Dead. Of course it’s dead, it’s been going off all day. You plugged it into the charger and laid back down, waiting for the phone to turn on. Exhaustion pulled you back in and you fell asleep just as your phone woke from the dead.

It was 3AM and Trent still couldn’t fall asleep. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing down on him. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could think about was you—how you didn’t answer his calls, hadn’t responded to his messages. He told himself it wasn’t even a full day yet, but the silence was eating at him.

With a sigh, he grabbed his phone off the bedside table, unlocking it for what felt like the hundredth time. No new notifications. No calls. No texts. He opened his camera roll to scroll through the memories you two made over the last couple of months. He wanted to feel close to you again, even if it was just through a screen. The first video he tapped on was a clip from a night at his place. You were in the kitchen wearing one of his hoodies, dancing to an upbeat song from a playlist. You had no clue he was recording and when you finally caught him, you were laughing, telling him to stop. He didn’t stop recording though, he couldn’t get enough of seeing you so happy and carefree. He continued to swipe through the roll, stopping on one where you were standing outside, looking at a full moon like it was the most beautiful thing you ever saw in your life, you loved the moon and he took note of that. Another photo featured the two of you dressed up for date night, his hand was on your waist as you stood in front of the mirror to take the picture.

He kept scrolling until he landed on a cute video of you in front of your shop, talking about something new you were working on. Your face lit up as you explained everything. He loved seeing you so passionate about your career. You weren’t like anyone else and that’s what he loved about you. You didn’t need him to complete you, he needed you. And that’s what made the thought of possibly losing you feel more painful.

Trent’s thumb hesitated when he scrolled to the last video, this one was recent. His pulse quickened just at the thought of the video, he pressed play as his breath hitched. It began with you in frame, wearing a black lace set that barely covered you. The panties featured high waisted criss cross straps that hugged your hips and left very little to imagination. The matching bra framed you perfectly, emphasizing your boobs. You stood in front of the camera, waiting for his reaction as the phone shook slightly in his hand. “You like it?”

“Fuuuck yes. You’re making me hard,” he muttered off screen with a rough voice. He zoomed the camera in on you, catching you shifting under his gaze. You turned slowly to show off the back as the barely there fabric hugged your hips in all the right places. His hand was heard smacking against your ass, making you gasp as he groaned. “You’re killing me. You look so sexy right now.”

You grinned over your shoulder, pushing your ass up against him. “Enjoy it while you can..I don’t think it’ll be on for long.” The video was meant to just be his reaction to the lingerie, but the moment he saw you his restraint snapped. “Baby..turn around for me,” he said in a low, almost desperate voice. You obeyed him, teasing him as you turned to face him fully. His breath caught in his throat when the camera panned over you, capturing every inch of the masterpiece displayed in front of him. “I could look at you like this forever,” he added in a husky voice. 

“Keep recording so we can look at it when we’re away from each other,” you said with a smirk. His voice on the video cracked, barely able to hold back his need for you. “Come here.” The camera shifted as he moved to another side of the room to set it down on a flat surface, capturing you in the perfect angle. You walked towards him, swaying your hips with your eyes locked onto his. The moment you touched him, his hands were pulling you in. He couldn’t wait to touch you.

“Please just wear this around me all the time,” he muttered. His lips grazed the side of your neck as you hummed, arching into him. “Mmm, you would love that, huh?” you teased, running your fingers over his hair as his lips trailed down your skin, kissing and biting. His hands moved to your ass, pressing you against the wall. 

“Off. Now.” he commanded. You could see how hard he was through his grey joggers and it was making your mouth water. You fumbled to unclasp the bra. As soon as it dropped to the floor his mouth was on your chest, tracing his tongue around your nipple as he tugged at the thin lace on your panties. You two were fluent in each other’s bodies, completely synchronized in every touch, kiss, and movement. 

“I need you inside me,” you whispered, feeling your body thrum with need. He wasted no time kicking off his clothes while the camera continued recording. You were on the bed now with your legs wrapped around his waist as he positioned his cock between your thighs. He entered you slowly, making you gasp as you adjusted to him. Trent buried his face in your neck, thrusting into you with slow and deliberate movements as your nails dug into his back.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin.

“Faster, baby. Please.” you gasped, trying to meet his thrusts because you needed more of him. His rhythm picked up as the video captured your bodies moving against each other, your loud moans and his groans. He gripped your hips, driving into you harder..deeper..until both of you were on the verge of cumming.

“Oohmygod, right there. I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, closing your eyes as you tried to focus on riding the wave threatening to crash against you. “Open your eyes, Y/N. Look at me when you cum. I wanna see you.” You opened your eyes, brows furrowed as he continued snapping into you. Your jaw dropped when the band finally snapped, your pussy pulsating and milking his cock. He came inside you, releasing white ropes just as you were coming down from your high. The video ended with both of you clinging to each other, trying to catch your breath. Trent stared back at the screen, breath uneven. The memory of that night left Trent aching for you all over again, but not for sex. He just wanted to feel your presence. He shifted in his bed scrolling through all your old texts, teasing voice notes, and random selfies. Each one was a reminder of what he was missing tonight. He had no idea what he was going to do to fix his mistake but he needed you back in his arms, period. He sighed heavily, staring up at the ceiling. He was supposed to be asleep hours ago but he couldn’t fall sleep when everything felt like it was in limbo.

Without thinking, he looked at his phone again with his fingers over your name. He knew you wouldn’t answer, you didn’t answer the entire night. But hearing your voice on the recorded greeting was comforting to him and he couldn’t stop himself. He needed to feel that tiny connection no matter how small it was. So he tapped the call button, bringing the phone to his ear, expecting it to go straight to voicemail like all the other calls. He closed his eyes waiting to hear the sound of your voice in a cadence that always made him smile.

C’mon. Just wanna hear you again.

But instead of a voicemail, there was a click, a pause, and then a soft, groggy voice. Your phone was now fully charged and you heard the ring, which woke you out of your slumber.

“Hello?”

His eyes snapped open, heart pounding out of his chest. You answered.

“Trent????”

i thought i was being so creative coming up with the name 'Love Notes' in french and apparently ariana grande has a new fragrance line named that LOL

sorry for the cliffhanger but it had to be done haha. if you made it this far, thank you for reading! lmk what you think

[alittlebitofloveliness]

any soda headcanons?

Hi! I hope these suffice, I couldn't help but throw a little bit of Stevepop in :)

Sodapop Curtis Headcanons

-The Curtis house has a half finished basement which is where the laundry machine is, but the ceiling is FULL of spiders and spiderwebs. Both Darry and Pony are PETRIFIED of spiders, like Ponyboy is jumping from foot to foot and hyperventilating and Darry SHRIEKS when he sees one, so its always Soda’s job to de-spider the basement and he absolutely hates it (he's a little scared of them too, but not nearly as bad as his brothers)

-He has the friendship equivalent of those ‘you cheated on me in my dreams and now I’m mad at you”. One time he dreamed Steve left him stranded at the Dingo and was lowkey pissed at him the next day. Poor Steve was SO confused

-Loves both peanut butter and chocolate by themselves, but HATES when they’re combined together. Bro HATES reeses cups with a passion

-After the Curtis parents died he snuck into their room, stole his mother's half full perfume bottle and hid it in his bedside table. Sometimes before he goes to bed, when Ponyboy is busy brushing his teeth, he’ll spritz a little on his wrist because when he closes his eyes and smells her perfume he can pretend his mom is hugging him again.

-Thinks bananas are spicy (they’re not, he’s just mildly allergic but doesn’t realise it. Everyone in the gang thinks he’s making a joke every time he says it. He isn’t.)

-Him and Steve swing dance together at work sometimes when they’re working alone in the garage and his stomach flutters every time Steve dips him 

-Cannot sing to save his life and does it all the time anyway. Like, he sounds like he’s gargling with rocks, it’s actually painful. Dally has literally paid him to shut up before.

-Steve’s pet cat absolutely HATES him and Soda will always and forever be mad about it because “what did I ever do to her???”

-Can’t remember what his dad’s voice sounded like anymore. It haunts him.

-The easiest way to piss him off is to disrespect Steve in front of him. Sodapop is convinced the sun shines from his grumpy best friend’s glaring eyes, and if anyone doesn’t see that he WILL throw hands, no questions asked

-The Curtis’ have a chore jar full of little slips of paper with the really unpleasant chores they only have to do once in a while written on. Every three months they each draw two each so that way it’s fair who does what. EVERY single time Soda ends up having to clean behind the stove and he’s forever bitter about it because “it looks like a crime scene back there Dar and I know it ain’t just my fault!”

-He and Steve gave each other stick and poke tattoos once but his got SUPER infected. He would’ve had to tell Darry and probably go to the hospital if it weren’t for Evie, who luckily had some training from her tribe’s medicine woman and managed to fix him up.

-Him and Darry do rock paper scissors to decide who has to tell Ponyboy when he has a doctors appointment because Pony always gets SO mad and neither of them wanna deal with him

-Once walked in on Two-bit in an, ahem, compromising position, and hasn’t been the same since

-He used to socially drink pretty often but stopped when he realised how much drunk him really wanted to kiss Steve on the mouth

-Started drinking socially again when sober him kissed Steve on the mouth and the world didn’t end

-He draws faces on the eggs in the fridge, partially because he just finds it fun, but also because it always gets Darry to smile and shake his head fondly, and there isn’t enough that makes Darry smile these days

-Darry made him promise when he first started work full-time that he’d keep half his pay check for himself. He promised, but only ever keeps about 10% of what he makes as spending money. He’s determined to make sure neither Darry nor Ponyboy ever find out

-Wishes he was a bit more like either of his brothers, because even though he loves them more than anything, they have more in common with each other than they willl ever have with him and sometimes he feels like the odd man out in his own family, especially now his mom and dad are gone

-Had asthma as a kid but he grew out of it by the time he turned 10

[plumelume]

Could you do a griefer x arcade worker reader, preferably headcanons, fluff :3

୨｡ griefer x arcade worker reader hcs. 𖹭 !

tw : nothing ᕙ⁠(⁠＠⁠°⁠▽⁠°⁠＠⁠)⁠ᕗ . ᵎᵎ

˙ . ꒷. words count: 5339

! note : i may not get griefer's character accurately but likewise, i hope you enjoy the hcs, ty for requesting ! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) ✿. —. ✦

Working as an attendant(or worker) in an arcade could be quite tough on occasions. Having to ensure the best experiences for customers while going around and seek for problems throughout the day. That’s what you do for a living, you are more than overjoyed being able to sign in for a spot in a fun place.

꩜ - No jobs guarantee there’ll be no difficulty, that’s a fact. Such as bad-mannered people, and annoying brats. And moreover, just basically giving you hard times during work.

꩜ - At times, there’s people who stood out from the rest. They either put up a good impression on you, or the opposite. More of the second than first but still count.

꩜ - Recently, you’ve been noticing a guy. Not because he’s good-looking or anything like that, it’s the smell emitted from him when you passed by. Sure, you’ve been meeting over hundreds of faces as a worker. But that smell really did impact on your memory, from that time on, you begin to take mental notes of his appearance. Mostly because you didn’t want to go anywhere near him lest your nostrils being burnt by the unforgettable scent.

꩜ - Though those avoidances are not never-ending, when you were about to walk off from his direction. He called—.. No. He demanded you to come over and refill those empty ticket slots that he has long drained so he could continue playing his games. You hesitant.

꩜ - Don’t think you can actually escape, if you ignore him on purpose he’ll throw a fit of screaming at you so you’ll hear him. Which will draw many attention from surrounding people, eventually you give in and refill those damn tickets. Your miserable days start here.

You hate, HATE. Every single interaction you’ve ever had or obligated to have with him.

“Y0 PUNK, GO F1LL THE T1CKET.” Wow, at least he could’ve referred to you as ‘worker’, that’d mean a lot. Your fate is entitled to this, warily approaching the arcade machine, you spare him some glances, and gain some glares in return. Why be surprised? You deal with this everyday. You took out the key, plugged in the lock and proceeded to humbly satisfy his needs, after finishing doing so, you take.. Many steps back, watching from afar to make sure the dispenser works properly.

꩜ - Whenever he’s not there to pester you, you are filled with enthusiasm. You swear, without his presence, your jobs lose tad of weight.

꩜ - Sometimes, he caught your attention by just being an expert at games. After you refilled the tickets, you’d stand there for a while to watch his performance, and unknowingly, you became his main audience.

꩜ - He gradually noticed how you lingered around when he’s indulging in the game, that inflates his ego acknowledging someone is hooked by how ‘pro’ he is. Especially when the ‘someone’ is the worker he torments frequently with his nagging, and smell.

Congrats, you now brought a perfume bottle to spray him!! He complains, but it is better to smell good than not in your opinion.

꩜ - Overtime, you began to ask a few questions while he’s in a match, and you finally caught on to his name, Griefer. Well, that’s not actually his name but you’re just grateful enough to be answered instead of him giving some snarky remarks.

꩜ - Your grudge slowly fades, maybe he isn’t that bad of a person. He could be enjoyable to hangout with, if only you ignore those damn comments. And perchance, these feelings towards him are genuine. Griefer would’ve laughed at your face if you said that to him, he isn’t that fond of romance, you figured.

꩜ - Despite that, your actions speak volumes about how much you adore this customer, he comes off as an asshole at first, but slowly opens more to you from time to time. He'll even be lenient enough to let you play his game, even though your job isn't about playing. And make some cheeky statements about your skills but nonetheless, those affection counts plenty.

“L0L, HOW 4RE YOU S0 B4D?” Yet another comment left his mouth, you gritted your teeth immensely after being criticized. Caused your hands to be shaky and with that. Two words “GAME OVER” appeared on the screen, making you sigh in defeat. He laughs at your despair. “It’s all your fault.” You blamed him, sending a sharp glare his way, he isn’t no coward to shudder from your menacing look. “MUCH M0RE LIK3 SKILLS 1SSUES.” He snickered, his smirks widened while your anger heightened.

꩜ - Your past self would be surprised— Shocked even, that you allow yourself to fall for a stinky man child. For he has been showing you subtle hints of his affection.

꩜ - In contrast to your emotions in prior days, you’ve come to miss his presence when he doesn’t arrive at the arcade you’re working at. Feeling overbearingly bored, people call it love, you would rather (jokingly) call it mental illness.

None’s endurance is limitless. Standing beside him as another session of gaming starts, pursing lips and longing stares, you can’t even hide the obvious crush on him. “Griefer?” You called out quietly, in which he responded with a simple ‘what’. A stupid decision, but you wouldn’t want those same feelings to trouble you further. “I like you dude.” Before he could retort, “In romantic senses, I meant.” You add, and he pauses. Stunned on the spot upon hearing your— humble confession.

꩜ - Yeah no, he ain’t even bothering playing the game no more, staring at the screen before him. As the game came to an end, the sound of the dispensing tickets filled the silent yet awkward air between the two.

꩜ - “Y3AH, WH4TEVER.. I LIK3 Y0U T0O.” Griefer admits, waving off the momentary shock as he once again, focused on the current game that he abandoned.

Now you’re.. Confused..?? That was a very faint sign of reciprocation, but you take that as a win-win.

꩜ - Ever since your adoration was spoken, he actually tried to take a few showers now.. Woah. You were in disbelief hearing he finally showers, just for you. And your poor nose. That makes you happy even if it is supposedly normal.

꩜ - On break days, he invites you to come over to his house. Which is on a tree. He affectionately pokes fun at you for needing his help to climb up, his house— room.. Is just as messy as he is, you are not amused in the least.

꩜ - You lend out a hand to help him clean up his mess, whilst doing so, he mentioned how you’re like a maid to him and wished you’d be here frequently to tidy his room. You regret it immediately.

꩜ - At the end of the day, he adores you, despite the tough exterior and all. He does and cherishes the moment he gets to spend his time with whom he loves most— you. It sounds corny, really. Griefer’s words, not mine.

[unknownperson246]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE A FIC FOR IZZY WITH A BREEDING KINK HES SO FINE 🙏🙏

hii so sorry it's late but here it is.

Can't Wait

Words: 1,958

Warnings: *smut* *spanking kink* *breeding kink* *degradation* *losing virginity* *first time* *bleeding* *masturbating* *cussing* *phone sex* *oral sex* *m receiving* *p in v* *harder kinks* *reader is innocent and naive* *reader loses virginity*

✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:*

It is the year 1988. You and Izzy have been married for 8 months now. You were a virgin. Not because you didn't want to have sex but it was because you were busy with academics early in your high school and college life.  You and Izzy had not had actual sex. You would only give him oral. But as soon as you wanted to try he had to go on tour. He was all over the place for 8 months. You have been so excited to see him come home after a long tour he went on with his band. You haven't seen him in months. All you could do was talk to him on the phone. Sometimes you both even had phone sex. You knew how to masturbate to his picture and to his voice telling you sweet things while you stuck your fingers in yourself moving them as they replicated Izzy's hard and stiff cock. Izzy would also masturbate to a picture of you and your voice on the other side at the same time. That way it was like both of you were in each other's presence. You're sad about only one thing. As soon as he comes home he is going to be busy with his band. He is making a new album called Use Your Illusion One with his band. They are going to be leaving on tour again soon and that makes you sad. 

 You are so proud of them. They have been working hard and they deserve a long break. You have been so lonely and sad when he is not around. All you do is sleep in the bed you share hoping he would come in your dreams. You do it so time passes quickly. You sleep while hugging the clothes he left behind. You spray his bottle of perfume on your bed and yourself and his clothes so you can awaken old memories. You always missed him. The day he comes finally has arrived. You have yearned for him for 6 months. You both love each other so much. He goes straight through the door frame entering the house you both share.

 He puts his guitar down and goes straight to you. You jump on him, hugging him tightly. Little did you know Izzy picked up a strange kink. Kids had never popped up in his mind for the future. He didn't even know he wanted kids. After he watched Axl and Erin's son run around and play hide and seek with both of his parents he envisioned having a mini you and a mini him running around the house creating havoc. In public, he hated chaos and havoc but having kids was different. He didn't think about their sticky little hands touching everything and how weird and tiny they were. He knew you felt lonely since it was only the two of you. He knew it would only be you when he left. You had friends and family but it wasn't the same as having a husband. 

“Izzy I’ve missed you. I’ve been so lonely” You coo in his ear while your arms and legs are wrapped around his body. 

He held onto you. He wanted to act on his ideas and thoughts he had when he was on tour with guns. 

“Well, what if I told you that we could fix that.” He said, smirking. 

“What do you mean?” You ask confused.

His hand went to your lower abdomen. He patted it a couple of times. You didn't know what he meant but it sent shivers down your spine when he touched you like that. You missed his touch. You still couldn't get his hint about him wanting to knock you up. He unbuttoned your jeans while he tugged your jeans downwards. He slid them off of you all the way. He dropped them on the kitchen floor.  He slowly started to undo your panties and he took you upstairs. You got his hint about wanting sex. You were nervous and excited about doing it with him. He knew you were a bit naive and innocent. He always saw you as a determined woman. It turned him on at how innocent you were. He knew that you hadn't had a conversation about wanting kids but he thought he would surprise you.  You knew how babies were made but you had no idea he was talking about wanting kids when he touched your lower stomach because it never occurred to you that he wanted one. He just didn't seem like the dad type to you.  He didn't tell you straight away because he wanted to keep his excitement about fucking you. He took you upstairs. He remembered that both of you went lingerie shopping before he left. He bought you the most sexy things. He bought you garters and a lot of silky lingerie for you to wear when you both fucked. He remembers where you last placed them. He pulled the dark red one out and made you wear it. He watched you take your shirt off. He saw your heavy tits and his hand went down to his hardened cock. He was trying to resist the urge to touch himself. He only wanted for him to be inside of you. His cock grew stiff. He only thought about how they would grow heavier with milk to feed his child. He started to moan lightly watching you change. Once you were finished he shoved you against the wall grabbing your wrists behind your back like he was a cop getting ready to arrest you.

“Lean on the wall slut. I bet you slept with other men while I was gone” He hisses in your ear. You stare at the bulge forming underneath his jeans.  He was hardening at the idea of impregnating you with his baby. He wanted to see you nice and swollen with his seed growing inside of your belly.

“How could I be a slut if I am a virgin?” You try to explain to him because you thought he meant those harsh and cruel words.

“Mmm. I love when you talk back you dirty brat” He grunts getting his hand ready. He was waiting for an opportunity for your mouth to open.

You feel his hand land on your bare ass. He kept attacking it with his hand. He kept spanking you over and over. You look up at the ceiling, losing count of how many times he hit your bottom. It was like the 40s in America where teachers would punish you by smacking kids with a ruler. You weren't in the 40s. You feel your pussy aching with lust for his cock. You feel your tits hardening. You felt your nipples get sensitive. You didn't know that it was called being aroused. You were craving it so bad. You weren't nervous about your first time anymore. The idea of getting you pregnant alongside the idea that he was going to take your virginity made him feral.

“Izzy I already feel so good” you whine to him as his hand strokes your ass.

You were confused because he was being so sweet to you in the kitchen. You didn't know much about kinks. You only were aware of a few of them. You felt yourself getting wet. 

“Izzy I feel something wet down there,” You tell him.

“Let it happen slut” He explains to you while remaining in his kinky self.

He undoes his pants and his fully cured cock springs out. He flipped you around to face him. You’re back is now pressed against the wall. You watch his cock dripping with his pre-come. He grabbed it with his hand making it turn into a hook shape. He put it at your entrance You feel the tip of his huge and thick cock touching your entrance. You felt shivers go down your spine. It didn't hurt but it felt new to you. You moaned as he slowly slid into you.

“I see your filthy cunt. I’m going to fill you up with my baby” He groans as he keeps hitting your g spot. His hips slammed into your hips as he thrust in you. 

“You're going to fuck a baby into me?” You moan while he keeps grinding himself against you.

You were turned on the idea of having a baby with your husband. “Uh-huh. I’m going to fill that pretty cunt up tonight. I can’t wait to watch your body grow to accommodate my seed.” He moans while he holds your hips. His hips kept slamming into yours.

His hand traveled up beneath your lingerie. He started to grope your tits underneath the lingerie. “These beautiful tits will feed my baby” He moans.

“Our baby” You correct him. 

After he hears your words he starts thrusting faster. He is determined to get you pregnant the first time you both try. The thought of his sperm getting into your egg wanted to make him come without even fucking you.  His fingers went down to your clit. He started fluctuating his pointer and middle finger on your clit as he pumped himself inside of you. He got off at the idea of taking your virginity. He thought of you as fresh and pure but not in a negative sense. You had your first real orgasm. You felt your stomach knotting up and you felt your toes curl. Your legs shook and you struggled to stand. You wanted to drop down to the floor. You restrained yourself from moaning and crying his name. You gave up. Both of your bodies get coated in sweat.

“Izzy” You cry as your hands go to his back. Your nails start to dig into his pale back scratching him. 

“Soon we will have a baby whore.” He moaned.

He kept thrusting inside of you. You felt your hips ache. His fingers were digging into your hips as his dick was curled up inside of you. You still wanted to drop down to the floor but you made an effort to keep standing up. He kept kissing your neck trying to distract himself from giving up. He kept on going no matter how good it felt. You come down from your high as you watch your husband’s head go back into the air. You saw his eyes roll. He was preparing to dump his wet load inside of you. You felt his seed coat the sides of your walls. You felt his seed travel inside of you. Izzy pulled out of you. His cock glistening with your slick all over it. White strings of both of you come mixed with your blood followed out.

“Lay down on the bed” He commanded. While his cock swung around. He was trying to protect his artwork. He wanted to be sure to get you pregnant the first time. In case it didn't work you both kept doing it 3 times a week.

You obeyed his orders and lay down on the edge of the bed. He finally took the lingerie off of you. You were now fully naked. He was watching your body as he smirked.

“So how was your first time?” He asked you. 

“It was amazing,” You say, catching your breath. He laid down beside you on the edge of the bed naked trying to catch his breath alongside you before he covered himself with the blanket on the bed. He held your belly imagining it getting bigger.

“I can't wait to hold our baby” He whispers in your ear. He reaches his arms out for your body and cuddles you. He nips at your ear and runs gentle circles around your nipples that are still hard.

[etherealhoneybee777]

I have a lot of goofy mob psycho perfume headcanons, but one of my favorites is that Reigen wears Bath and Body Works Champagne Toast but is ashamed of it.

Champagne toast is a juvenile, fun scent that smells like hyper-sweet champagne and peach. Reigen LOVES this scent but he HATES that he loves it because even though he’s crazy about sweet femme scents, he doesn’t want people to know that he wears a cheap scent designed for tween girls.

So when people ask what scent he’s wearing, Reigen lies and says “Nautica Voyage for Men” Reigen shamefully keeps champagne toast stashed in a locked drawer in his desk. It’s his secret.

It’s his secret to everyone except Teru.

See, the thing about Teruki Hanazawa is that he has an amazing nose. He knows the name of a fragrance just by smelling it. And Teru ADORES bath and body works. He collects it. So Teru smells Reigen and immediately knows reigen is wearing champagne toast.

Their interaction goes like this:

Teru (who proudly wears scents designed for tween girls) I never knew you liked champagne toast, Reigen-san!!! We should talk bath and body works sometime!! I’m somewhat of a collector myself. I’m actually wearing the tutti dolci collection right now!

Reigen *visibly sweating*: dunno…dunno what you’re talking about. I’ve never been to bath and body works in my life. The only scent I wear is nautica voyage for Men

Teru *squinting* You don’t smell like nautica voyage. You smell like champagne toast.

Reigen: I guess your smeller is off.

Teru *visibly distressed at reigen gaslighting him at the tender age of 14*

Later, for Christmas, Reigen unwraps his present from Teru. It’s an unboxed bottle of nautica voyage for men.

Teru: go ahead, spray it!

Reigen starts sweating. He’s been caught in a lie—now everyone will smell the ACTUAL nautica voyage for men, and know that Reigen smells nothing like that, thus proving that Reigen has been lying the whole time about what fragrance he’s wearing.

People will discover he’s a fraud. A fraud who wears champagne toast.

Unable to think of an excuse, Reigen sprays the bottle of nautica voyage for men.

It smells exactly like champagne toast.

It smells like champagne toast because it IS champagne toast. Teru had bought a bottle of nautica voyage for men, emptied it, refilled it with champagne toast, and gifted it to reigen. The reason? He wants Reigen to be able to keep his perfume on his desk, to spray champagne toast without feeling ashamed.

Tears come to Reigen’s eyes. Teru knows Reigen’s a fraud. At least when it comes to the fragrances he wears. But Teru doesn’t care!! In fact, he’s HELPING Reigen lie by gifting him champagne toast disguised as nautica voyage. The idea that the kids see him—the real him, the liar—and accepts him anyway, is almost too much for reigen to take.

But Reigen keeps going. Like he always does. He says thank you to Teru. Gives him a hug. He sprays champagne toast, and is proud.

[brights-place]

Can I ask a platonic fam oneshot about Velvet and Veneer with a lil siblings that does folkloric dance?

Im sorry I just find funny the idea of a kid reader doing la danza de los machetes when they big siblings are super famous 😭

But any folkloric dance it's okay lmao

You can ignore this request dw, please drink water and rest all you need, virtual hugs 🫂🫂

Velvet & Venneer’s Lil sibling who does folkloric

Pairings: Venner and Velvet X Reader (Platonically)

Warnings: Swearing, Crimp abuse, Fluff

A/N: This one is fun to write since I didn't know what folkloric dance was at first before I listened and watched soem videos about it and it was so lovely! sorry it's short im so sleepy!

- Velvet and Veener superstar artists who were glamorous and then there was you... In the background just vibing as you eat some food before looking towards your siblings who sweat drop at you - Veener and Velvet buy you your costumes for your dancing cause they got that popstar money yk yk - They attend all your dance's and Velvet pretends to hate going to watch your dances but she actually enjoys it so much and makes sure Veener is recording all of it - if someone makes fun of you doing folklofic dancing venner and velvet would go off on whoever talks shit - Velvet makes sure you pratice she dosen't want you to be a failure

- When people ask velvet and venner about what you do they flex about you doing folkloric dancing - Baile folklórico, "folkloric dance" in Spanish, also known as ballet folklórico, is a collective term for traditional cultural dances that emphasize local folk culture with ballet characteristics – pointed toes, exaggerated movements, highly choreographed. - She makes you practice a lot but Venner tries to convince her to give you breaks but he does also remind you its velvets way of trying to care for you. - You love showing your dances towards Veneer and Velvet sometimes if you feel proud about it - Velvet likes to do your hair and make sure the outfits look great on you if its a dress she makes sure its perfect if its a suit she makes sure to iron it properly - Venner hums to the music and enjoys how you move around as he is a very proud older brother and clapping to the beat and hyping you up. - Velvet and Venner may be troll kidnapping artists but you didn't know that at all - Though when you run into their makeup room while they were gone to fix your suit real quick you stubled upon Flyd in a perfume bottle making you worry about your older siblings and what they were doing - The worry in your eyes made you scared of what else your older siblings who you looked up to have done...

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[bullet-prooflove]

A prompt please for Terry Silver, 30-Darling you deserve more than just these roses.

Tagging: @volumesofforgottenlore@kmc1989@somethingdarkside17@noonee333

JP doesn’t get the message that you’re not interested. You realise this when a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne is delivered to the art gallery where you work.

Darling, you deserve more than just roses. – JP

It’s a dig at Terry, the bouquet of red roses he gave to you during your art show a few nights ago.

Love and admiration, the colour represented.

And you felt that in every single part of your being when he leaned in close and kissed your mouth. That’s the thing with Terry, he makes you feel like you’re the centre of his world, that there isn’t a part of you he doesn’t cherish.

JP, he can’t even remember that you dislike champagne, you have ever since the evening you got drunk off on an empty stomach and spent the entire night throwing it back up again. You’d told JP that story several times during the course of your relationship and here you are with a ornate box of Moet.

You try to send it back but the courier refuses to take it. You end up setting it on the shelf  behind the desk so you can turn your attention to the more important tasks you have to do throughout your day.

“He’s persistent isn’t he?” Terry remarks that evening when he picks you up from the gallery. He’d been helping you collect some of your paint supplies for a project you want to start at the house when he’d come across the champagne box.  “He doesn’t even remember how much you hate the taste.”

“It’s not really about me.” You tell him as you take the box from his hands and drop it into the garbage can with the rest of the trash. “It’s about the competition, the fact I’m with someone else, that I’m happy with them. He never thought I would accomplish anything like this.”

He’d said that to your face, Terry recalls. He’d told you your paintings were reductive, stupid simple things that couldn’t stimulate even the most stupidest of children.  

I didn’t paint for almost a year after that, you’d told Terry. It was why I took the residency in Paris, I needed a change of scenery, something to remind me of the joy in it.  

He despises the other man for that, for ruining something that had brought you so much pleasure.

“I want to hurt him.” Terry says quietly, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he draws you close. The scent of your perfume floods his senses, tones of amber, wild berries and rosewater. It’s dark and sensual, just like you in this clinging black dress. “For doing that to you back then, for trying to do it to you again now.”

“Beating the shit out of him isn’t going to help either of us.” You remind him, your fingers lacing at the back of his neck as your body presses against the length of his.

“What if I didn’t beat the shit out of him?” He negotiates, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “What if I did to him exactly what he did to you back then?”

It wasn’t just your confidence JP had destroyed, it was your actual paintings. When you’d told him you were leaving him he’d hosted a bonfire party, used them for fuel.  You’d come back to the house to pick up your stuff and found them burning in the back yard.

“Weren’t much good for anything else.” He’d told you as he took a sip from his beer.

You’d cried the entire drive home.

“I’m going to buy his paintings tomorrow, every single one of them.” Terry tells you as his thumb ghosts over the curve of your cheek. “And then me and you are going to take them over to his house and we’re going to have a bonfire of our own.”

“I love you.” You say fiercely. “For understanding how much this means to me.”

“He took something from you.”  Terry whispers against your lips. “Nobody gets to hurt you and walk away.”

Love Terry S? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[homicidal-slvt]

"Was It Worth It?"

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MDNI

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Leon S Kennedy x F!Reader

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Warnings: Heavy Angst, Death, Alcohol Mention, Older!Leon (Pictured Vendetta Leon), Hurt + No Comfort

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He's made mistakes plenty of times- he's only human. Yet he carries them endlessly in the back of his mind, always yet another corpse lining his path through the world.

You get used to it.

At least that's what he tells himself and others. Is it really true though? Can anyone ever actually get used to something like this?

Sometimes he finds himself running after things he should probably let go- but how could he? Searching for the pieces of him that went missing in all the wrong places.

You looked at him gently and handled him as though he was an injured dove rather than a damaged man. It was something he wasn't sure he could truly get used too.

Fearing the rapids of his own mind may drag you under with him.

I need to let you go.

Isn't it true that- if you love something you set it free? How could he risk clipping your angel wings with his sharp edges. Surely you deserve better.

-

Your fingers dance along his skin tracing little shapes up his arm, a simple smile on your face as a soothing silence hangs in the air.

It's nice sometimes to just be quiet and let the sense of safety wrap you like a cozy blanket. It's true when you first met Leon it was his corny sense of humor that caught your attention- then those captivating blue eyes that sucked you in like a whirlpool.

It wasn't long though before you truly got to know him, the more you learned the more you craved his presence. His roughened edges and pain didn't frighten you- the dark cloud hovering over him didn't make you shy away.

You stuck around.

The peace you brought him only made him question even more though how the hell he could ever be worthy of someone so wonderful.

-

A harsh tug on his heart as he stared at the few small things left behind. His home wasn't a home anymore, the warmth you brought to it now gone.

You came and lit up his life and now that light has fizzled out leaving an even darker void in it's wake.

Blood.

He sometimes could still feel it on his hands, the texture and warmth of it... The way your eyes met his and it looked almost as though you hated him.

Hated that he was the one that came to save you.

"I don't need your fucking help!!!"

Your words echo inside his head as he vividly remembers the way you yanked away from his touch... You were in so much pain yet you had acted as though his hands were what burned you most.

-

Your eyes are locked onto the newly bought bottle of whiskey, his voice seemingly more distant now.

"It's just not going to work."

Your gaze cut up to meet his.

"And why not? Are you still in love with her?"

"No. Of course not."

The insinuation truly stabbed him deeply, how could he ever think about anyone else while he was with you? Then again... He wasn't exactly telling you why he was dumping you either. Giving you no choice but to come up with your own conclusions.

"Then why, Leon?"

"This relationship just isn't right."

"Bullshit."

There was a certain venom in your tone as you abruptly stood up, his stance immediately tensing up more as he wasn't used to your anger being aimed at him... What made his throat tighten and him look away from you though was the undeniable hurt in your eyes.

"God as my witness- I never want to see you again."

Did you really mean that? He wasn't sure and neither were you. Rage and hurt boiling over into tears and harsh words. You bumped into the table sending the bottle of whiskey to the floor- in complete honesty you didn't give a single shit as it spilled.

After all- this isn't home to you anymore. He has to clean up the mess.

-

He laid down on the couch while holding your sweater, the scent of your perfume lingering on the fabric.

The guilt he felt over everything that happened wasn't like anything else. Every part of him just wanted to scream- yet he didn't.

Instead he stayed in place feeling hollow, past events haunting him at every turn.

-

You were weak- there was no way you'd make it. Not in time.

Limp in his arms as he carried you- adrenaline and pure desperation fuelling him. He couldn't let go of you, he just couldn't. He couldn't leave you there even though in the back of his mind he knew.

"Leon... I have to ask you something."

"After I get you out of here."

Those words irritated you as you felt the impending end closing in on your soul.

"Was it worth it?"

You just asked anyway- no time to waste as death wrapped its unforgiving arms around you. He glanced down at your face as you grew further away- heart in his chest felt as though it had stopped as well in that moment.

"Was what worth it? Keep talking. Hey- stay with me. Come on. We're almost there just-"

At some point you have to learn to let go. Stop running after something you will never catch. Don't search for your missing pieces in the wrong places.

How does one learn though? Trial and error.

-

Even now thinking back on your question as he attempts to drag himself back into life- force some form of normalcy to take place again.

He doesn't fully understand- doesn't know why those had to be your last words. Why he couldn't save you. Why he couldn't give you a proper answer then in there. Why-

Stop torturing yourself.

But he can't- can he? Deep down he knows the answer to your question. Perhaps he can finally give it to you one day.

'Was it worth it?'

'No. Of course not.'

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{Guys I was gonna finish some fluff but finished this instead I'm so sorry lmao enjoy a random angst Leon one shot}

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{@scar-crossedlvrs }

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{More Content}