#I'll probably make a good drawing of him some other day but this is not that sorry out of juices

[kala-mies]

Heaven is calling, Peter!

[ddejavvu]

Ok but I feel like Spencer gets paid a good amount for being in the fbi, probably a couple of side gigs in life, and probably doesn’t spend a whole bunch. But Spencer accidentally finding your wish list on a clothing website. Like the ones we all make over the months, in a ‘if only’ kinda way. And he just... buys it. Your whole list. He checks you’ve put sizes and stuff first, but it’s not a massive chunk from his wallet, and it’ll be a nice surprise for you. His skinny fingers are pressing next day delivery and he’s genuinely just quite happy to do that for you.

Aka him and that would be a wish come true together lmfao. I’d love if you wanted to write smth abt this if you’d like! You+Spencer=everyone’s wishes coming true 😘

'his skinny fingers are pressing next day delivery' LMFAO.

--

It takes you enough time to find Spencer's gift after you get home that he's starting to overthink it, and he's on the brink of what you'd call 'worrying himself to death', and what he'd call 'a Tuesday afternoon'.

He's in the middle of gnawing through his own lip when a strangled noise comes from the closet, and his years of FBI training escape him. He is fairly certain there is a monster of some sort that has invaded your home.

Before he can locate and draw his weapon, however, you reveal yourself, a sweater clutched in your hand that he'd just unwrapped hours earlier.

"Spencer!" You gush, holding the sweater out like he's seeing it for the first time, "Where did this come from?"

"I bought it," He admits, "And- uh, all the other new stuff in there. I saw your list online, so I-!"

Whatever feeble explanation he's about to use to bashfully undersell himself is cut off when you let out a giddy squeal, severed and sectioned into giggles as you fling yourself at him. He's glad that his chair holds up beneath the torpedo of weight you bury him beneath, and his mind is cleared of its concerned fog when you throw your arms around his neck.

"Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou! Spencer," You lean back to grab his face, slightly rougher than usual but out of excitement, not anger, so he lets it slide.

"Thank you." You repeat, leaning in to smash a kiss to his lips. It's more passion than romance, more force than tenderness, but your gratitude seeps through it clear as day, and Spencer curls his arms around your waist where you're settled in his lap.

"Of course, angel. I had Garcia help me organize the closet. I tried to hang-" He furrows his brows, reminiscing, "-a sweater next to a dress? Or- no, I tried putting the dress by some jeans. Anyways, she said to fold the jeans and to keep the dress on the end of the rack- whatever. But she has requested a fashion show."

You bury your face into Spencer's neck to let out a girlish squeal, and he's appreciative that you don't do it into his ear this time. He loves the sound, but he wants it to not hurt, thank you very much.

"Okay- okay! Okay," You're giddy with laughter once more, eyes sparkling in excitement, "Wait here, Spence! Face time Garcia, I'll go get changed."

You're bounding up the stairs and back to your closet before Spencer can remind you that his flip phone isn't capable of Face Time.

[dr3c0mix]

umm is it possible to get a yandere! male!siren x shy!gn reader?

Fish Bait

Yandere!Siren x GN Reader

CW: Kidnapping, assault, minor stalking, murder, thalassophobia maybe?

🌊 You are quite shy when it came to talking to people. You found the whole 'socializing thing' a bit overwhelming considering how rough and loud the rest of the people in your academy was.

🌊 You much preferred staying by the shore with a nice book or drawing book to enjoy the sound of the waves with. The ocean breeze and wailing of seagulls never failed to relax you.

🌊 One day, you heard the strange sound of splashing by the tide pools along the more rocks area of the shore. You thought it was a fish or some other animal that got stuck in one of the pools after the tide retreated and got up to help it out.

🌊 But what you saw was no animal, well, half animal. In one of the pools was a man with the lower half of a fish, his scales glistened wondrously as it splashed in the water.

🌊 The man looked at you with wide eyes and froze. You put your hands up to show you meant no harm.

🌊 "Please! Spare me! I just want to go home!"

🌊 "Calm down! I won't hurt you!"

🌊 He shook with fear as your hands drew closer to him.

🌊 You then pulled him up from the pool and carried him to the sea, he stares at you as you gently lowered him unto the water.

🌊 As soon as his tail was submerged in the sea, he swam out of your grasp and went a distance away from you, part of his head peeking out of the water as his red eyes looked at yours.

🌊 "Well...safe travels.." You mutter, wading back to shore, but the merman peeks his mouth out the water and shouts to you.

🌊 "You're not going to ask anything in return?"

🌊 You look back. "Uhm..no, I'm fine, thanks anyway.."

🌊 "Hmm, you know...you can come with me to my home. I'll grant you the power to breathe under water and you can enjoy the treasures I have there. What do you say? It's the least I can do for what you've done for me!"

🌊 "Nah, I'm good. Be safe though, I heard theres pirates that hunt merfolk nowadays..." You continue your way to shore but the merman swims quickly to your side.

🌊 "Don't you want to be rid of those insolent fools you call schoolmates? I can give you a life people only dream of!"

🌊 "I'm not really..interested..."

🌊 "...You're not?"

🌊 "Yeah..."

🌊 "...Oh..uh..ok...wow-um..well, bye I guess..." The man stutters before sinking his head back into the water.

🌊 You sigh, that was some encounter. You doubt you'd run into something like that again...

🌊 Boy howdy you were wrong.

🌊 You'd spot the strange boy again and again, always hiding back behind the rock or piece of driftwood he was watching you from.

🌊 Sometimes you'd also find trinkets and beautiful stones laid on the shore. You never took them though; you didn't want to take something someone probably lost. The merman would grumble to himself every time you ignored his baits.

🌊 You'd also see him again trapped in the pools, feigning sorrow that poor little him got stuck again during another low tide. What ever shall he do?

🌊 Your days would go on like this, the merman desperately trying to lure you into the sea but to no avail due to your shy and polite nature.

🌊 Him basically stalking you turned to him directly talking to you and trying to get you to go with him in the water.

🌊 "Oh dear, I've been stuck at this reef for ages! I just can't get out! Could you help me please? I promise not to drown you!"

🌊 "No thanks, I'm on the last chapter of my book..."

🌊 "My, my, it's so lonely in the ocean, not a playmate in sight, come down with me so we can really get to know each other yeah?"

🌊 "I don't really wanna get my clothes wet..."

🌊 What you thought was a potentially dangerous creature of the sea became a whiny, attention-seeking drama queen.

🌊 Eventually, you'd learn his name is Caspian. He gave up a bit on trying to lure you and settled on making small talk with you.

🌊 Most of your conversations would revolve around your cultures, how you two lived compared to eachother.

🌊 "So those silver things with teeth aren't combs? Interesting...tell me more!"

🌊 He more or less looked up to you because of the knowledge you'd tell him, even though it was all basic things ever human knows, but he wasn't a human so, I guess it's alright.

🌊 He'd try to crawl onto shore to see what you were reading or drawing. You'd have to scoot away from him because he was dripping wet, and you didn't want your paper to get soiled.

🌊 Please read to him! He loves it when you read out loud the books you bring!

🌊 Life seemed pretty content with you having a friend to talk to, one who's not judgmental of your quiet personality.

🌊 That was until one day, you heard laughing and shouting from your usual spot.

🌊 You saw your classmates, waist deep in the water trying to drag Caspian to the shore, the merman snarling and biting the air around him angrily as the bullies degrade and laugh at his attempts to wriggle out of their grasp.

🌊 "Look at this, boys! With this ugly thing we can buy the whole pub if we wanted to!"

🌊 "H-hey! Leave him alone!" You shouted, dropping your things as you ran to help your friend, but one of them punched you with in the face and grabbed you, about to hit you again.

🌊 "What? You're gonna let this siren kill everyone that comes to this beach? God you're dumb! No wonder why you have no friends!"

🌊 He was about to give another blow when you both heard a shrill cry from the ocean.

🌊 The water pooled with crimson as only the splashing of limbs can be seen form the shore, cries and gurgles are heard from the writhing gore. Your classmate rushes into the water to save his friends before the violent splashing stops and the red patch of bloody water extends towards him and around him until you see him get yanked below into the water, a splash of a fish tail verified in your mind that it was Caspian.

🌊 You could feel your heart pounding as you see the siren lift its head from the water, his blood red eyes staring at you again with razor sharp teeth bared.

🌊 "P-please...don't hurt me..I didn't lead them to you I swear!" You cried as he crawled to your shivering form.

🌊 You held your breath as he pulled you in a wet hug, your clothes getting stained by the salty, bloody water.

🌊 "Oh my darling~ I know you would never hurt me~ But we're not safe here anymore..I fear I'll have to take you somewhere safer...somewhere away from those disgusting creatures."

🌊 You couldn't even react before you were pulled into the water forcefully, you kicked and swam all you could to get him to let go of you, but soon enough, your whole body was under the water. The only thing that was left of you were your things by the sand, and bubbles that rose to the surface before stopping.

🌊 "You'll be safe here my love, my most wonderful treasure~"

this one was by far one of my favorite bois ive written, he's so mhmhmghghghmmmhmhmmhhh

[sincerelyyycece]

hey, are u still there?...good.

Y/N inevitably finds themselves settling into James's backburner.

note: modern au, inspired by niki's song, "backburner.", lily evans is briefly mentioned, here's what i promised you guys mwa mwa!

sincerelyyycece © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

Y/N had always been the "backburner," the second choice, especially James’s second choice. She was the one he turned to when his first plans fell through—the one who was always there but never the priority. She was used to it and had grown comfortable in the role.

Right now, she's sent at least 15 messages to him.

Hey?

Can we meet up? I have some great news to tell you.

Hellooo.

You're probably busy. Text me when you can.

James?  Did something happen?

Nevermind, I'm probably overthinking it.

I'll just tell you here.

I got the internship :)

Delivered. Gazing at her screen, she sighed with a sense of familiarity. This repetitive pattern felt more like a routine or a game to her. The 'How long till he talks to me again?' Game, as she calls it. Setting her phone aside, she sought distraction from the mundane task of doing laundry.

A moment later, her phone chimed, drawing her attention. With a swift motion, she turned towards it. Hastily, she wiped her damp hands and cleared her throat before uttering, "Hello?" On the other end, she could hear faint shuffling before a familiar voice greeted her, "Hey, Angel." The affectionate nickname warmed her heart. "Just got your text. Congratulations!" he exclaimed. A soft "thank you" escaped her lips in response. His greeting sent a wave of warmth through her. "Apologies for not replying sooner. I was with..." He paused, clearing his throat. Her mood dimmed at the mention of another name. "With someone. I was with someone.”

Lily, always the first choice, James's top priority, the standard against which she measures herself. "Yeah, sure," she responded, lacking enthusiasm. "Mm-hmm," he trailed off. "So, do you want to celebrate? We could go out to eat or stay in and watch a movie," he suggested. "I'm not really feeling up to it right now. I'm pretty tired." There was a rustling sound on the phone once more. "Look, if this is about earlier, I apologize, alright?" he said. "Lily had some things going on and wanted to meet up, so we did." There it was again. Everything revolves around Lily.

"Um, yeah, I understand," she stuttered, trying to articulate her thoughts. "It's not that, James. I'm just exhausted from chores," she explained, glancing subtly at her unfinished laundry pile. "Y/N, come on. Let me make it up to you," he pleaded earnestly. "Pretty please," he persisted. She shook her head, amused, and relented, saying, "Okay, okay." Through the phone, she could hear his small yet enthusiastic 'yes.' "Order some takeout. We'll have a cosy night in with a movie," she suggested. "Yes, ma'am. I'm on my way," he joked lightly. "Take care." With that, she hung up and returned immediately to her laundry task.

Following that day, they continued hanging out. She pondered over the abrupt shift in their dynamic. It was uncharacteristic for her, yet she relished every moment spent with him. He delighted her by taking her to places she longed to visit and presenting her with gifts tailored to her preferences. He seemed to be doing everything right. However, as she prepared for a movie night tonight, a disheartening text message appeared on her phone. Hey, something came up. I have to reschedule. Sorry. She sighed, feeling a tinge of disappointment. Perhaps she should have anticipated this turn of events.

Sure, we can reschedule. she replied, her eyes brimming with tears. As they cascaded down her cheeks that night, she found herself immersed in a sea of sorrow. The following morning, she anticipated a message from him, but none arrived. Disheartened once more, she resolved not to reach out again. Days turned into weeks, with silence echoing his absence. It seemed as though he had vanished from her world. Or so she believed. Suddenly, her phone interrupted her reading, and without lifting her gaze from the book, she answered, "Hello?”

"Hey, are you still there?” echoed the familiar voice in her ears. Pausing, she glanced at the caller's ID. 'James :)' flashed on the screen. With a soft hum, she replied. His sigh reached her ears before he responded, "Good." Once more, she felt relegated to the sidelines in his priorities or had she truly ever moved from that place? Despite the familiar sting of disappointment, Y/N responded, "Yeah, I'm still here, James." His sigh of relief was almost audible across the line, and for a fleeting moment, she felt herself soften.

"I'm sorry, Angel," he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of regret and something else she couldn't quite place. "I've been...busy." Busy, always busy. But she knew what that meant. Lily. Yet, she found herself replying, "It's okay, James. I understand." She knew she was settling for less, allowing herself to be on the backburner once again. But the truth was, she couldn't help it. She was drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, willingly choosing to dance on the edges of his life, even if it meant getting burned time and time again.

So, she swallowed back the hurt and disappointment, offering him a smile he couldn't see. "We can catch up soon, okay?" She suggested, her voice steady. There was a brief silence before he answered, "Yeah, that sounds good. I'll see you soon, Angel." With that, the call ended, leaving her with the familiar echoes of his promises. She sat alone in the silence of her room, her heart heavy yet hopeful. As she closed her eyes, she knew, deep down, that she was still James's second choice, his backburner. But for now, for better or worse, that was a role she was willing to play.

[satoruxx]

sorry to go feral in your inbox but ghostface!miguel who is crazy about you (in a good way I promise) and does everything in his power to protect you and keep those horrible college guys from your classes away from you but you only know him as the mysterious gravelly voice who calls you every night that you’ve grown fond of as your personal lullaby-

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader | 1.5k words summary: ghostface!miguel, stalking, possessive miguel, violence, death, killing, obsessive behavior, suggestive, killer miguel ofc, reader is WAY too trusting, miggy just loves you so much !! rheya’s note: NONNIE BABES YOU GENIUS !! he absolutely would oh my fucking god. i am so normal about this (going feral) i was literally squealing while writing this it was rough. why is this concept hot? do i need therapy? probably. anyways he's a creep in this but in a good way? (the way this ask literally got me inspired to draw ghostface!miguel UGH) anyways ENJOY !!

miguel isn't a bad guy. he's not. he's one of the good guys actually, a hero. he's always been a hero.

it's not his fault that there are some assholes in the world that are fucked up, preying on innocent people who just want to live their lives.

sweet, innocent people like you.

how a girl as sweet and precious as you managed to get yourself surrounded by such horrible people is beyond him. and you're so nice too, always assuming that nobody has it out for you or that everyone has some good in them. with that mindset, you were just asking to be put in danger.

so, being the hero that he is, it's his obligation to look out for you, right?

it starts off quietly. he doesn't make an effort to connect with you, choosing to watch you from the shadows as he silently tracks your day. miguel is nothing if not observant, mentally noting every single person you interact with or looks your way. and if they get a little too close, a little too comfortable? well, then he'd just have to take care of that for you, wouldn't he?

he hates that one flirty coworker of yours, always leaning a little too close to you and chatting like he's your fucking boyfriend. miguel can see the little crease of discomfort in your brows whenever that coworker is nearby, and he decides that he hates that expression on you. but you feel fine afterwards, because when your coworker goes missing the next day, you send a quick thank you to the heavens, trying to push down your guilt.

he finds out that you try to make some extra money by tutoring a guy at your school. and when miguel watches the two of you through the windows of the library he feels hatred like no other run through his veins because he doesn't like how this guy looks at you. that asshole probably didn't even need tutoring to begin with, using it as a pathetic excuse to get close to you. what a fucking joke. but you don't have to stress about tutoring anymore because the next day you get a text saying the kid has transferred schools. you never hear from him again.

oh but the worst ones are the ones who ask you out on dates. they don't even know how lucky they are, getting to see you all dolled up and pretty for them, only to absolutely destroy your hopes for a good time. it makes miguel so angry he sees red. every fucking time one of those losers makes a comment that has your shoulders slumping with disappointment, a miserable frown on your pretty lips by the end of the night, he feels sick to his stomach. but he hopes that when you see your date's body on the news the next morning, you won't be so disappointed anymore.

only after watching over you for a while does miguel decide to finally talk to you, finding the perfect hiding spot to watch you through your window as you pick up your ringing phone. he has to stop himself from groaning because your voice sounds so much sweeter when it's in his ear, smooth and precious as you ask who it is. and he can't resist playing with you, dying to hear more as he sighs behind his mask.

"tell me your name and maybe i'll tell you mine." miguel answers, gravelly voice practically purring through the speaker. he can see the confusion on your face as you pace your kitchen, reaching for a bag of chips before walking back to your couch and settling in to watch a movie. he hears the screams from the tv and bites his lip. "what's that noise?"

"a movie." you reply, the expression on your face getting less guarded as you listen to his voice.

"a scary movie?" he asks, leaning against the edge of the roof so that he's got the perfect view of you. you take a chip and pop it in your mouth, chewing quietly, and he follows the movement of your lips with eager eyes.

"mhm," you nod, and miguel thinks it's so fucking cute the way you move your head even though you think he can't see you.

"you like scary movies?" he asks with a hum, and you voice out a yes. his eyes remain hooded and attentive as he effortlessly continues the conversation. "you got a favorite, sweetheart?"

he catches the way you melt under his sweet words, and miguel decides then and there that he's never letting you go. he listens to your answers with a grin, tucking his knife away and watching you animatedly talk to him for the remainder of the night.

and the rest is history.

you tell him about a guy who's bothering you? he'll bury him. someone made you cry? he'll break their legs. your date stood you up? he'll stab them so many times he loses count. and then after all of that, he'll call you like he always does, rumbling honeylike words into his phone as he casually watches you from behind his mask.

"and how was your day today, sweetheart?" he'll drawl out, late at night as he perches on the neighboring roof to your apartment. with the way he's angled he can perfectly see the innocent little smile on your face as you settle in bed, talking on the phone like you're not scared of him at all.

and you shouldn't be, because he'd never hurt you, of course.

some nights you'll giddily tell him about the most exciting parts of your day, smiling and giggling until you fall asleep without a care in the world. but on the nights when you complain or whine about somebody that's made you upset, wronged you, or god forbid, showed interest in you? well, those are the nights miguel has to grit his teeth and clench his fists, trying to control the flare of pure rage that courses through him. he lulls you to sleep with sweet words, trying to keep his cool but still vibrating with anger because who the fuck do they think they are, getting near you like that?

"don't worry, pretty girl," he sighs into the phone, twirling his knife between his fingers. "i'm sure they'll stop bothering you soon enough."

and they do. but you being the precious oblivious little thing you are, assume that you're just lucky. a guardian angel, you had said, was watching over you. miguel had just chuckled into the phone, deep and rich as he smirked at you from the roof once again.

"guardian angel? well lucky you, huh?" he had asked, feeling all too pleased with himself. you agreed with a nod.

well, if that's what you wanted to see him as he had no problem playing guardian angel for you.

and no he doesn't even want you to find out, because the last thing he wants to do is scare you. no no, he'd much rather protect you from the shadows, eliminating every single threat could ever harm a hair on your pretty little head. his reward comes in the form of you living your life, carefree smiles and all.

and granted he feels much more rewarded when he calls you late at night, deep voice teasing with an underlying sense of possessiveness as he speaks to you about anything and everything. he doesn't understand why and how you decided that he was safe to talk to, but you do, laughing and sighing into the phone until you've dozed off.

and if you've accidentally left your windows open, well of course being the gentleman he is, miguel will close them for you. but not before he stands at your bedside, raising his mask to watch you sleep peacefully. such a pretty little thing, so sweet and gentle. and after pulling himself away from your sleeping form, he quietly shuts the window behind him, yanking his mask back down with a smirk because he doesn't want anyone else to see you all vulnerable like that.

you were too trusting to begin with, but you trusting him is alright. after all he's the only one who's been looking out for you. anyone else tries to get near you and he'll have no choice but to tear their limbs off. they could be a threat to you, right?

but that's why he'll never let you out of his sight.

you're his after all.

[goatakiart]

JEALOUS XAVIER!!!💛

Love And Deepspace

SFW

Bar scene

Kiss scene

I put a lot of work on drawing and writing, I hope you like it! 💛

☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ

You walk into the office in drowsy steps towards your desk and drop into your chair. It's too early in the morning. The sun is barely out, and everything is still dark.

Just when you short things out before you begin to work, a colleague comes over to your desk with a cup of coffee. Since he came to the office and you work together, he keeps bringing you coffee every morning, which is curious, but you appreciate the gesture.

Right when you thank him and he begins to walk away, you notice a different figure walking up to your desk with a bag on his hand. It seems like a busy day already. You blink in surprise.

"Xavier?? What are you doing here?"

Xavier lets the small bag on your desk.

"I was passing by for some intel, so I brought you breakfast. I...will probably have to stay here today."

He takes a small glance at the coffee sitting on your desk and looks up at the man that's walking away.

His presence made the day better already

You smile and drag another chair next to yours, the sound of the dragged chair legs draws Xavier's attention back to you. You simply pat the chair next to you.

"Be my guest."

Xavier's lips curl up. He brings a laptop and some books to his side of the desk. You spend some time eating together and talking about how you slept, You enjoy hearing about all the weird dreams he always has. Unfortunately, you have to cut the chase and work. You both drown in silence and focus on your tasks. Only the sound of keyboards and the book pages is heard all around. However, his presence is enough company.

The afternoon comes, the orange light hits through the window, and a lot of people leave the office. Your colleague comes to your desk once again.

"Hello, was the coffee good?"

Xavier just ignores him. He crosses his leg as he keeps reading his book.

You smile politely at the man on the other side of the desk and nod in response. He smiles back happily.

"I'm not here for that tho! Did you know that a team of hunters is gonna have a party going on tonight? It's at the bar on the next square. I thought I should invite you, I'll be there too."

Xavier subtly takes his eyes away from the book and side eyes him behind the pages, in a way that none notices. You agree to go and continue the conversation a little before he heads off.

"See you there, Trevor." You wave goodbye and finally close the laptop.

As you walk back home with Xavier, he's a little too silent. He's probably focused his thoughts on his research. The pink and peach shades of the sky eliminate on him beautifully, it causes you to daydream for a short while and grin like an idiot. You poke his shoulder softly. A cloud moves and casts its shadow against you both, hiding the light of the sky.

"Did you hear?"

"Hmm?"

He rotates his head to your direction, he's still in thought.

"About the party."

"Oh, what about it?"

You hesitate slightly before asking him, he probably won't accept, he's not the type to party, but you try anyway.

"Do you wanna come--"

His focus fully shifts to you.

"I would love to go with you."

He didn't even leave you fully finish the sentence, you're a bit shocked he agreed so fast, but it's a pleasant surprise, he looks eager to come.

"Then, I'll see you there?"

His expression becomes somewhat alluring, a smile forms on his lips, his head tilts, the cloud moves away and the light is even brighter than before, you can see the sky in his eyes.

"I'll come take you by 10pm instead. Let's go together."

You raise an eyebrow by his reactions but agree, you didn't wanna go alone anyway.

"Sure, let's go together!"

☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆ミ☆

The night finally comes, and you're outside your door waiting for Xavier to appear. You wear a simple short, sleeveless, black dress and boots, not much. As he appears, you notice he's dressed in black for the first time since you met him, which makes you match. A buttoned top and fancy pants with a golden chain on his neck with a small star. It's as if he did it on purpose.

"You look really good!" You say excitedly and his face can't help but brighten up in satisfaction.

"Do you like it? I bought it today. You look beautiful Y/N." He says and softly reaches for your hand which you playfully take and twirl around as if you're dancing, you both chuckle.

"Did you buy this only for today?"

"Perhaps I need a change."

He looks down at your purse embarrassed.

"Let me take this for you."

He takes your purse and hangs it on the side of his shoulder.

"Why, thank you."

You lovingly wrap your hand around his bicep as you head towards the party.

You reach the entrance and you both notice that the club is packed and loud music is playing. Some of Xavier's old colleagues appear and begin to talk to him, he gives you a look that you know very well... he's pleading to be saved, however you do not submit to the request.

"I'll find a seat for us, it's not bad to socialize once in awhile, I'll be waiting for you alright?" He looks quite disappointed but agrees.

"I'll be back soon."

You get in, nuzzle your way through to find a place to sit. Trevor also finds his way to you. He reeks of alcohol, so you assume he's already drunk.

"Heyyy! You made it here! I'm so glad to see you."

"Well, I said I would come."

You are being polite but way colder than how you treat Xavier. You clearly don't trust him enough. He's sloppy and his voice is unstable. He approaches you, you take a step back in response. "I noticed I've never seen you fight! I'm pretty sure you're an amazing hunt--"

"She's an exceptional hunter."

Xavier's voice cuts him off from behind you. His hand wraps around your shoulder tightly as he towers over you. His voice is firm, his eyes darken, you could say he's a little...scary.

For a moment your thoughts wander again. You think to yourself that he looks crazy attractive in black. Trevor takes a step back this time, as Xavier continues, his voice sounds mad. He's rarely mad.

"If you wish to witness a fight, I could give you a demonstration."

He tilts his head with a frown, rising an eyebrow, an expression fill of intimidation.

The drunk man's gaze lower in shame.

"No, man, it's alright... I'll... I'll go now..."

He raises his hand in defeat and walks away in quick steps, almost running. You blink in shock, you look up at Xavier as he watches him go like a carnivore watching a pray.

"What was that?"

As his gaze turns to you, his eyes change immediately from threatening to sweet, you raise your eyebrows, and your eyes widen. Your expression communicates perfectly to him. Meanwhile, the music started changing towards the slow romantic kind.

"He was obviously drunk. He could have done something inappropriate."

"So tonight you're my knight in shining armor?"

Your expression switches to a slightly teasing grin. He smiles in response and bows as he extends his hand.

"Would you care to give me this dance, your majesty."

He could get into the role pretty easily. It's as if he's actually a knight.

"I would love to." You placed your hand on top of his in delicate movement. He grasped it tightly and planted a kiss on top of it before he pulled you close to him. You release a short gasp by the sudden pressure. Your heart doesn't just skip a beat but miltiple. Your chest touches his, and his hand lingers to your back as you begin to dance. You look up at him. He grins with an adorable gaze.

"The dance lessons we did back then seems to have worked."

Your face flushed at the reminder, you immediately look away.

"Did you get that black fit on purpose?"

You were meant to ask this for some time now, but now it was the perfect opportunity to avoid the conversation.

"We're matching, Xavier."

The expression painted on his face reveals it all. You could notice a tint of pink on his cheeks at the revelation of understanding his motive. You both keep dancing. He leans forward to the side of your face. You can feel his hot breath on your ear, but he doesn't immediately speak, as if he's hesitating. Your heart begins to beat faster, you hold your breath. Xavier tightens the embrace, wrapping his arms around you like he'd never let you go. You can feel the warmth of his body, hear his heartbeat as it grows in intensity. His muscles tighten around you. When he speaks, his voice is nothing like what you've heard before. The slow, sensual whisper leaks down your ear, like honey on fruit.

"What's wrong with showing others you're mine."

You would never expect him to say something like that, your lips part slightly as you stay in place. The thought he's jealous drives you crazy. You feel a spark down your nerves as you release the breath you were holding in fear it will reveal the overflowing emotions. You caress the hand which is holding yours and interwine your fingers together as you begin to slow dance, you sneakily kiss his neck as he still leans against your ear. His breath catches in his throat, he reactively jumps back to check your expression. He looks down and around in embarrassment. You giggle. Your arms go around his shoulders, closing the space in between. You tiptoe to reach his ear, to return the previous act. This time you are the one to whisper seductively.

"I like it when you're jealous. I might even make you jealous on purpose."

You say teasingly, acting all tough. However your heartbeat is quickening. He's not immune to this either. He can feel his heart hammering against his chest and his face feeling hotter and hotter. His hand explores your back before it reaches your cheek, he continues by placing it under your chin. His expression overwhelms you with desire. His face flushed with passion and a little desperation. He meets your gaze and swallows. He's lost himself in all the feelings you give him. The look you have on your face is enough to satisfy him. The corners of his lips curl up in a slight teasing smirk. 

"I would not suggest that."

His gaze explores your face, slowly moving his pupils around, scanning you. His actions sends a jolt through your veins, your face turns red, you subconsciously bite your lip, but you decide to keep up the act.

"Is that so?"

He raises his eyebrow in amusement, the smirk grows larger.

"That is so."

He leans even closer, his blue eyes are shining against the dark environment beautifully, he doesn't break the eye contact, you slowly lean as well, your eyes are closing, blocking the view of his own,  till you feel his soft lips against yours. They taste like cherry, they feel like silk, his perfume doesn't go unnoticed either. His effords are shining like a bright star against a dark sky, and they totally win you over. His hand gripped on your back, pulling you against him. He deepens the kiss, you can't help but add your tongue to the game, so you lick his lips shyly. A short whispery gasp escapes his lips just before he deepens the kiss, and you feel his delicious tongue against yours. Your body reacts like a magnet to him. You melt into his embrace, not resisting anything he does. He has you in the palm of his hand when he claims you, he knows it, and he loves it.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Sweet Delights

Peeta Mellark x AFAB!Reader

Summery: It's a slow work day in District 12. With rain pouring down outside, who can blame you for wanting to indulge a little? Everything's fine so long as no one walks in... right?

Tags: Pre-established relationship, no use of y/n, pet names, reader has AFAB body/female pronouns, switch!Peeta, switch!Reader, edging, female fingering, teasing, count down, orgasm denial, blow job, face fucking, public sex, someone walks in, dirty talk, Peeta's a freak but he's sweet about it, praise kink if you squint, mentions of eating out, cum swallowing, cursing, post-Mockingjay but that's not really relevant, no reader orgasm this time around. Once again, I'm probably forgetting something.

Notes: I have to say, I did not expect Peeta to win the poll! And not to worry for everyone else, I'll get to all those characters eventually. (Derek girlies, I see you and I love you.) Thank you for your support on the last one, I hope you like this one too! Bon ABBA teeth.

•°《▪︎♡▪︎》°•

Peeta loves surprises.

Giving them, receiving them. If it's unexpected, Peeta is practically bouncing off his chair to figure out what to do with it.

It made everyday life sweeter. Slipping a note into his apron pocket when he wasn't looking for him to discover, finding a million more hidden in my apron. Little drawings hidden amongst everyday things, like the wildflowes Peeta likes to draw and place next to my powders and perfumes. But best of all surprises were the little pastries we would make when the days were slow and the other was watching the front of the bakery. Usually using scraps, because Peeta detests wasting food, but always delicious nonetheless.

The best innocent surprise, I should say.

Today was an especially slow day. Rain pounding down in District 12, making the roads thick with mud. It's a blessing for the hot ovens that fight against the cold seeping through the front windows. Although they're helping me more than Peeta, who's up front perched at the counter, insistent as always that someone needs to be watching the shop. "We won't hear the bell over the rain," he'd said.

I knew better than that. There were tells when Peeta wanted a surprise. He'd never just ask for something, always fearing rejection. Of course the minute I opened my mouth he was ready to do whatever I had even intrusively dreamed of so long as it meant love and praise. But to ask for himself? It's a whole different matter. So when he is insistent I work alone in the back, I understand that this is his own silent way of asking for some sort of surprise. And with the way his broad shoulders look in that pale yellow knit sweater, who am I to deny him?

I'm not one to deny him anything, quite frankly.

The best surprises of all are when we sneak up behind the other, always starting so innocently. Maybe while one of us is baking, maybe while one of us is simply dressing. With the quick slip of a hand, it doesn't take long before the other is panting and begging for release. Not that we always give it to each other.

Peeta liked sneaking up on me in private. Usually when I was in the back baking.

"What are you working on?" He'd usually ask.

"Custom order," I may answer with a smile. He liked my smiles, always said so.

"What are the details?" He'd ask. He'd put his hands on my lower back, rubbing soft enough to not disturb me while still working out some knots.

Then I'd prattle off details. This one is for so-and-so down on whatever-street-or-corner, they'd like a cake.

"For the Harvest Festival?" He'd ask. I'd nod, still focused on my task. "How many orders do we have for the Festival?"

"A good bit, it's our busiest time," I'd always say with a bright, soft tone to my voice. He'd chuckle, placing a small kiss on the back of my neck and pressing his hips against mine from behind, usually revealing his hard on.

"So, how many orders this year?" He'd ask. His hands would work at a knot, his breath hot on my neck, and his hips would roll ever so slowly against mine, taking his time to build both of us up.

"Ah, I think- I think 12?" I'd say, trying to focus on both him and whatever I was making. Cake. Right. Stir.

"12?" He'd ask. His cock would be deliciously hard, grinding against my clothed cunt just a bit harder as his hands would return to my hips, steadying me against him. "That's pretty good."

"Double digits," I'd say brightly, my voice breathy as I struggle more to focus. Cake. Stir. Hands, not hips.

But I'd always do hips instead, leaning back and tilting my head ever so slightly so he can see my enjoyment.

"You need to stir," Peeta would gently guide in my ear. My back would press against his front, his chin now resting on my shoulder.

"I know," I'd say softly. I didn't know shit.

He'd chuckle, one hand slipping to my front to cup one of my breasts.

"Need to get those orders out," he'd remind me. "You always seem so stressed about being on time."

"One of us has to be," I'd say. His hand on my hip would find the band of my pants, slipping past them and teasing me, sliding his fingers against my wet folds.

"Pick up the whisk," he'd instruct. My hands would shake as they obeyed, moving from being splayed across the marble counter to resume my task.

"Stir slowly," he'd say. His large fingers would slip over my entrance, coating himself in the thick lube now dripping from me. "You want to make sure the texture's correct."

It took such mental energy to balance the two things. Especially when he would finally sink in his middle finger, always going knuckle deep and twirling it around inside of me, making sure to leave no spot untouched. His other hand would pinch and pull at my breast, giving special care to make his fingers replicate the feeling of his soft lips wrapped around my sensitive nipples.

"What's the next order?" He'd ask. I could feel myself dripping down his hand, and I knew he loved this. Peeta would do whatever he could to make sure I was wet, even when he wouldn't go any further than simple teasing. I think he liked the idea of me always being ready. Not that he would assume. He always started out slow, and if I ever said no it was never a big deal. He'd simply continue talking to me and go on with his day perfectly fine. But if I was willing, he'd always massage or do whatever until he could feel my arousal himself. I think it's why he likes eating out best. Especially when I'd talk him through it, usually promising to cum down his throat while tugging his soft blond hair. His eyes would grow wide and soft at that, his whimpers increasing as he'd fuck me quicker with his tongue, grinding himself against whatever. It was a beautiful mess he'd turn himself into, desperate and begging silently as he clutched my hips.

"The what?" I'd ask breathlessly. I was tight around him, focused on how slow and sweet he was pumping in and out, twirling and wiggling his finger inside of me. His other hand slipping under my shirt, and his lips sucking gently at my neck, careful not to leave bruises.

"The orders, sweetheart," he'd gently remind me. "What's the next one?"

My lips would part, eyes fluttering shut as I tried to remember. His middle finger would pump out and then pump back in with the addition of his pointer finger, tearing a soft moan from my throat.

"Shh," he'd gently whisper. "We're at work."

He liked this little game. Ramping me up, forcing me to behave a certain way so to not tip off customers. If Peeta wouldn't immediately be arrested for it, something tells me he'd simply fuck me in the front room, bent over the register counter during business hours and just act like it's a normal thing. Such a sweet boy.

"I- ah- need to look at the book," I'd say. He'd roll my nipple between his two fingers, his other two fingers pumping slightly faster as his lips suck at the spot just under my ear.

"You have such a good memory though," he'd say. "You can remember. Just think."

That's a lie. I have a horrible memory and we both know it. But if I say I can't, he'll pull away. Sweet and gentle, he'll go get the book and place a million kisses on my cheek before leaving me to my work and dizziness.

Next order. Next order. That's easy. It's a tart with cream on top. Cream. God, I'd like his cock in my mouth right now.

"Next order. Come on, pretty girl. I know you know it," he'd softly encourage.

"I know it," I'd moan, my head tilted back and resting on his shoulder, fucking his fingers instead of working on the cake. He feels so good, so warm and protecting. Simply smelling the traces of dill and cinnamon baked into his skin made my mind shut off, my eyes growing tired from the feeling of safety.

"I know you know it," he'd say so sweetly. "You're smart, pretty. And you've got a delicious cunt I'd love to fuck over and over if I could," he'd say softly, placing warm kisses on my neck between each point. I was panting openly now, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried desperately to remember who ordered what.

His fingers curled inside of me, making rapid 'come hither' motions fast enough to steal a soft, sudden cry fron my lips. Peetas mouth found mine, swallowing my moans and giving me some of his own.

"I may have to count down, sweet girl," he'd warn me. His fingers had found my g spot, hitting and rubbing it at rapid speed. The cuff of his sweater is soaked from me, his hand sticky and coated. I shake my head quickly, moaning and gripping the counter as best I could to keep myself standing.

"I can remember," I whimpered. Peeta laughed softly.

"I know you can, sweet girl. But look at you, you're a total mess." His voice is sweet and kind, his eyes taking in my current state. "I can't have you all dumb back here during work hours."

He's sweet but he's cruel. God, he's cruel!

"I think there's berries in it," I stammered.

"Ten," he's start patiently, his teeth tugging at my earlobe.

"N-no, wait! There's- There's berries and there's..." I'm completely making this up. I have no clue what's next.

"Nine," he continued, knowing this.

"That's not fair, you started low on purpose!" I whined.

"Eight." He wouldn't argue. I was right.

"It's got- got cottage cheese frosting." I'm so close, so awfully close. I can feel myself clenching around him rapidly, my pussy swallowing his fingers quicker and quicker as I climbed closer towards the edge.

"Seven." Oh, God. This motherfucker.

"Six. Come on, good girl. You can do this," he'd encourage sweetly, kissing my cheek and trailing to my collarbone with said kisses.

"They wanted flowers on the top. Violets, I remember that!" That detail is actually true, surprisingly. The candy violets were always easy to remember because I loved them so much.

"Five." His other hand kneeded my breast, admiring the soft flesh and running his thumb over my stiff, aching nipple repeatedly. "Four."

"You're speeding up," I whined. "This isn't fair."

He let out a soft 'aw,' apologizing and speeding his hands to bring me closer to the edge.

"If you can come before one, I'll fuck you right here," he promised. "You can come before one, can't you?"

I nodded stupidly, moaning and panting as I sped up my hips, slamming down on his hand repeatedly. Cake details be damned, this is my mission now.

"Three." I'm so impossibly close.

"Two."

"Wait a minute, slow down-"

"One."

With one final, cruel, hard thrust of his hand he slips away, leaving me to almost crumple to the ground and opening my eyes to blink stupidly, trying to process what just happened.

"You okay?" He asked softly, his dry hand cupping my cheek and looking at me carefully with his sweet, hazel eyes.

A long, soft whine escaped me, batting my lashes as I lean against him and whisper as many 'please's as I can, pressing a dozen kisses all over him. He laughed softly, returning the kisses with whispered 'I love you's.

"Let me go get that book," he'd said. And that was that until that evening when he made up for it like he always did.

Now I was carefully removing a tiny apple pie made from leftovers meant specifically for Peeta. The rain was as bad as ever as I entered the front room, Peeta leaning on the palm of his hand while he struggled not to doze off. His long lashes flutter softly, his lips pressing against each other and his jaw a bit tight.

"Hi sleepyhead," I whisper, sneaking up behind him. He started a little, turning to look at me with the sweetest smile he has.

"Hi," he says cheerily, his voice just a touch gravely. His eyes glance down to the small treat in my hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Is that for me?"

"Of course it is," I say, placing it in front of him. "Figured you could use something to warm you up. It's freezing up here."

He chuckles. "It's not that cold," he says as he picks up the fork I'd placed next to the tiny pie and began scooping some up.

"Liar," I teased. "You're shivering."

He shifts in his seat slightly. "Not from that," he says, a small blush growing on his cheeks. He takes the first bite, then another, smiling and leaning his head against my shoulder.

"Thank you, dear," he says softly. He leans in for a kiss to which I happily oblige, cupping his jaw with my left hand. His lips taste sweet, the sticky apple and cinnamon tasting delicious on him. I swipe my tongue across his lips, stealing a soft moan from him as he allows my tongue access to his mouth, melting in my hands. His hand dropped the fork, accidently missing the pan and instead hitting the counter, but neither of us care. His hand comes up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to silently ask me for more.

My other hand trails down to his lap, finding one of his hands already there, palming his stiff, clothed cock through his pants.

"Is this what you were doing when I came up?" I ask softly, pulling away from the kiss only a bit. He chases me, biting at my bottom lip to drag me back to him. That's a yes, then.

My tongue explores his warm mouth, tasting him while my hand traces the outline of his dick, pressing and flicking against the tip. He whines, bucking softly into my hand, desperate for more.

"Can you stay quiet?" I ask him, pulling away again. This time my hand on the back of his neck grabs his golden locks, holding him still as I look into his eyes. His cheeks are red as well as his lips, kiss swollen and damp. His breathing is heavy, his eyes blown out. Barely touched and already a beautiful mess.

"Huh?" He asks, his voice higher than usual as he tries to focus. His hand grasping my wrist, making sure to keep my hand where he can buck against it.

"If I asked you to, would you stay quiet?" I repeat gently, teasing him with kisses by leaning forward and pulling away. We both liked this.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Anything."

"Anything?" I ask, raising my brows.

"Anything."

Alright.

I press a quick, admittedly sloppy kiss to his lips once more before dropping to my knees and slipping under the counter. His brows furrow in confusion before he realizes what I'm doing.

"You can't!" He whispers frantically. "What if someone walks in?"

"That's why I asked if you could stay quiet," I say patiently. "Can you?"

He bites his lip, obviously unsure. His eyes dart between me and the shop door, thinking.

"We can wait," I offer genuinely. This seems to be the deciding factor.

"I'll be quiet," he promises eagerly. "I've got a pie I can shove in my mouth if I can't, right?" He jokes, his smile crooked and eager as his hands work quickly to begin freeing himself. He's excited alright.

"Right," I say, taking his hands away and undoing the buttons on his pants myself. "Just keep watch of the shop, alright sweet boy?" He nods, placing his arms on the counter and trying to resume his position.

I slip his cock from the confines of his clothes, pressing a soft wet kiss to the underside along a thick vein. A quiet whine escapes him, his hand covering his mouth. I'm not truly worried about him being quiet, no one is going to come in here during such bad weather. It's just an edge to help work him into a frenzy, knowing full well he never stays quiet. I'd thought I was vocal when we started our relationship, but Peeta easily takes the cake.

His cock is warm, half hard against my lips that trail his veins. My tongue slides from his tip to his base, barely any pressure on his skin. Grazing always works best to start out with. When I reach his base I lap at his skin, blowing soft, cold air against the wet spots to make him squirm in his chair. I focus on his base for a while, sucking, licking, blowing. Ever so gently I even bite just the tiniest bit, enough for him to notice the edges of my teeth along his red, pulsing cock. His voice is soft, panting quietly.

My tongue trails slowly up his cock, exploring different ridges and spots that make him whimper quietly, working my way back to his tip which is soaked with thick, warm precum. I wrap my lips around him, swiping the moisture away with my tongue in one round sweep. I relish in the cry it tears from his throat, the dozen little apologies he whimpers immediately after. His hand covers his mouth, and the other trails down to gently cup the back of my head. I smile around him, swirling my spit around his tip as I suck gently, pressing my tongue against the underside of his dick.

His fingers play with my hair, unintentionally tugging it and apologizing as he does. I simply squeeze his thighs and begin lowering myself, taking him until his tip hits the back of my throat, taking deep, even breaths to fight off the gags that threaten to escape me.

It's when my nose buries in his soft, curly hair at his base that the bell of the front door rings.

"Hi!" Peeta says a little too quickly, a little too brightly. "Welcome to Mellarks Bakery. How may we- I help you today?"

I'm frozen, his hand gripping my hair out of anxiety. If I pull away, we'll be done. If I stay here, Peeta may very well have to make good on his promise.

Although, acting has never been a challenge for him, has it?

The customer is describing a custom tart she wants made, then pulling out a long list and prattling about this, that, and the other thing. Her accent clearly shows her as a Capitol transfer, and these orders always take forever given that they still have a hard time releasing the concept of not over indulging. But this time I don't plan on complaining.

My tongue begins to move slowly, rubbing carefully along the bottom of his cock while I watch his face carefully. He's smiling at the woman who's still going down the list, his eyes glancing at me to confirm this is what we're doing. With a small nod from me, his hand casually covers his mouth once more and he resumes focus on the woman, his other hand now guiding my head slowly, carefully.

He pulls me to the tip of his dick, working me back and forth slowly on just that spot. My tongue works quickly, my lips wrapping around him tightly to help create proper suction around him while I suck.

"Do you have pumpkin?" The woman asks.

"W- what?" Peeta asks, clearing his throat. "Oh, pumpkin. I'll admit I'm running a little low, it's been a popular request since we don't grow them locally. I've requested more but I don't know if they'll be in in time, so if you want something that uses it you'll have to get it-" his voice cracks as I deepthroat him again, swallowing around him quickly before returning myself to his tip. He clears his throat. "You'll have to reserve it right now," he finishes. I can see him quickly scoop up some of the pie, shoving it in his mouth and trying to hide his blush. It's lucky for us how oblivious Capitol born citizens are.

His hand guides me faster, focusing on fucking his tip near the back of my throat since we both know full well how hitting the back of my throat isn't an option. We can't risk any noise gagging may cause since it may not be covered up by the soft music playing on the shop speakers, a gift from Beetee for the reopening.

His pace is fast, faster than it should be. He's close, smiling at the woman and acting as though everything is normal. His large vein throbs, precum spilling out of him with each new thrust into my mouth. My hand reaches to press two digits against the soft spot behind his balls, a sensitive spot that makes him cry and squirm.

His jaw tightens as I do this, his eyes darting down daggers quickly. I can hear coins on the counter, Peeta accepting the list and opening the register. With the loud 'clank' springing forth from the older device, he takes the chance to slam my face down fully on his cock, his fingers making the coins loudly shift around as he gives the customer her change. Tears spring to my eyes from the sudden force, swallowing around him as I focus on my breathing to recover. He promises the woman he'll do what he can and wishes her a good day, and she coos sweetly. She reaches across the counter, patting his cheek and calling him a sweet boy before turning and walking out of the bakery, the bell chiming at her exit.

Peeta looks down at me, smiling brightly. "Hi," he says with a newfound excitement.

I moan around his cock. He gets it.

"You okay?" He asks, his hands moving to cup my cheeks. I make an affirming noise, trying to smile. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" He asks, his thumbs swiping away the small tears dangling from my bottom lashes. I shake my head, swallowing around him. He moans softly, his grip tightening.

"Yeah, I kinda forgot you like it when I am, don't you?" He asks, beginning to slowly pump his dick in and out of the back of my throat. I moan happily, taking him as easily as I can.

"You know how hard it was not coming down your throat with that lady in here?" He asks. "I had to edge myself so that it wouldn't become known how much I like fucking your throat."

My cunt throbs at his words, his closeness making him willing to be more rough. He starts fucking my face in earnest, tearing noises from both of our throats as he loses himself.

"Can't do that again," he pants. "Next time I'm just taking you. I don't care who walks in." He's moaning openly now, his cock abusing me. I can feel him throbbing, twitching. There's enough precum it's all I can do to focus on swallowing and breathing.

"Show this whole District how much I love you," he babbles. "I'll eat you out on this fucking counter, I don't give a fuck."

I press my heel against my clit, grinding into it to relieve some friction as my hands steady my body against his thighs. The chair underneath of him creeks horribly. If anyone walked in now, I don't even think we'd have a small second to hide what we're doing.

"I love your fucking pussy," he rambles, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. "Love your fucking mouth. You take me so well. So eagerly."

I moan around him, spit dribbling from my mouth, hair stuck to my face. His balls slam against my chin, his wet curls pressing against my nose as he face fucks me like a rabid animal.

"I'm gonna cum down your throat," he announces. "Then you're gonna cum down mine. Again," thrust. "And again," thrust. "Until we don't even have to make dinner from how full we'll be." Goddamn, he's close.

His hands are rough, gripping my face. "Rub your tongue harder," he commands. I do, putting as much pressure as I can on his throbbing vein. He moans loudly, leaning forward and clutching my head.

"I'm coming," he pants, his voice high and tired. "Fuck, I'm coming-!"

His warm, thick load shoots down my throat, filling my mouth so much I cant breathe if I want to swallow it all.

"Such a sweet girl," he praises. "So sweet and good, eager to make me cum." His face is pressed against the cool counter, his chest heaving as he recovers his breath. His thumbs stroke my cheeks at different paces, small whimpers escaping him as I milk him dry with my mouth, making sure not a drop is left behind. When he's fully softened, I place a small kiss on his tip before tucking him back in, rebuttoning his clothes and patting his thighs one more time.

It takes a moment for me to rise, my joints stiff and my mind scrambled from the abuse it had just suffered. I stumble a little as I stand, Peeta's weak arms collecting my body and bringing me into a warm embrace.

"You're wonderful," he whispers, resting his head against my chest. I chuckle softly, placing a soft kiss on the top of his messy hair.

"So are you," I say.

He looks up at me, flushed and smiling at me with the most wonderful, lazy look on his face.

"Your turn," he says, finding a new wave of surprising strength and placing me on the counter.

"Peeta, we're still open," I giggle, batting his hands away.

"I know," he says. "Did you think I was joking?"

He stares at me, smiling and eager as he begins to part my legs.

This is going to be a long night.

•《♡》•

Whoever gets second place on the poll is who I'm writing next. Feel free to send in requests for characters/scenarios! See you next time, you degenerates <3

Masterlist

[httpiastri]

charles leclerc x sainz!reader, 18+ mentions

charles is waiting for you outside the club once your uber arrives. it's like he knew when you were going to arrive, like he had a tracker on you – or like he was just waiting for the first best person to get his hands on.

"if it isn't my favorite sainz sibling," he says when he opens the car door for you, his handsome grin flashing down at you as you step out. "had a good day in the paddock?"

"probably better than you," you joke, your hand landing on his shoulder to give him an apologetic rub. "my brother was upgraded to the podium, but you were disqualified, so..."

"shit happens." charles shrugs before snaking his arm around your waist, leading you into the club. "my day is about to get a lot better, though."

a chuckle leaves your mouth. his fingers move up and down your side as you make your way to the bar, and charles slows down every once in a while to greet some friends and other acquaintances.

you wonder what this looks like to those who don't know. you attached to his hip, his tight grip on your side, your body leaning against his. but to those who do know, the sight is nothing strange or unusual. despite how much you both try to deny it – not only to others but also to yourselves – you're drawn to each other like magnets.

"buy me a drink, will you?" you ask.

he's facing you now, and his hand still hasn't left your hip. "no, i don't think so." you raise your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side at his words. "i know what it would lead to. and we both made a promise not to go there, didn't we?"

"maybe so. but..." you pull your fingers through your hair, shaking out your locks. "what if i make it up to you?"

"and how would you do that?"

you pretend to think about it for a moment, pursing your lips. "i'll tell you the color of my panties."

charles pauses, his mouth dropping slightly open as his expression grows blank. you can practically see the gears turning in his head, and you have to let out a laugh.

"oh, you're actually considering it?" you ask teasingly, shooting him a wink as he just blinks at you.

his free hand drags across his face and he drags his hand down his face. his voice is low when he speaks. "shit, you can't just say that."

"why?"

he groans and his eyes wander across the room, hoping that looking away will save his cheeks from growing even hotter than they already are. "it makes me think things i shouldn't think about. not when i'm trying to stay away from you."

your hand on his cheek makes him look back down at you. you know what he's thinking, you can see it in his eyes. he wants you – and you want him too. "you hate it, don't you?" you smile up at him. "me being your teammate's sister?"

"so much."

your hand moves from his cheek to his neck, fingers playing with the short strands for a moment. you have to step closer to reach the back of his head, dragging your hand through his digits as his warm breath fans over your face. his adams apple bobs when he gulps, his eyes hazy and gaze weak.

it's so easy for you to get to charles. you always leave him feeling weak in his knees, like the breath has been sucked out of his lungs, like the annual butterfly convention is located in his stomach.

you know he won't be able to refrain. he'll have to give in.

"this would get so messy," he says, voice low as a whisper.

the dress you're wearing is so short that charles doesn't have to reach far down to find the edge of it. his fingers pinch the material, the corners of his lips turning up when it rides up even higher on your thigh. "you know it's worth it, though," you answer simply, trying your best not to lose your cool. you don't want him to see what effect his actions have on you – you are supposed to be the teasing one.

his thumb draws circles into the inside of your thigh, and you squeeze your legs together instinctively. the action reminds him of how he's seen you before, legs clenched around him with your hands in his hair just like now, and the thought causes his brain to short-circuit (and the tent in his pants grow). he shakes his head, unwillingly pulling his hand away from you to grab your hand. "okay. you win," he mutters, intertwining his fingers with yours. he pulls your hand up to his mouth to place a quick kiss on the back of it, as if to show you that he isn't actually as upset as the playful frown on his face tells you, before dragging you with him to the door again.

"i always do, don't i?"

"shut it."

"wait, i wanted you to buy me a drink-"

[xfancyuu]

~ now i draw a luxury nxde. [aemond targaryen] 18+ SMUT

because it's the beginning of spring i wanted to post for that so in universe it is also warm and flowers are blooming! reader is afab with she/her pronouns & my requests are open! this could be read as though it's in the same universe as my other bolton!reader works, though she's married to aemond and is referred to as lady targaryen. there are no appearance indicators in this fic, this is kinda canon divergence. also i didn't bold the dialogue for this one and i actually think i'm gonna go and reformat my other fics to match! this fic is also known as frolicking and fucking so yeah that's what you're in for. smut will be indicated with a different coloured line break if you do not wish to read it. [1,757 words]

this fic contains: wall sex, public sex, dressed sex, choking, spitting, voyeurism, name-calling, corruption kink, attempted dirty talk? y'all are just newly married and experimenting tbh, y'all degrade each other, slight orgasm denial, cumming inside. if i missed any please lmk!

You had never imagined life as a married woman to be so blissful. You had heard from the ladies in court that they simply did their marital duty and did not enjoy spending time with their husbands. They had told you that the bliss would wear off within the year once you had children, and they would steal your beauty.

You had all but rolled your eyes at their commentary. They were rude and bitter, seeking your own mood to be as equally unhappy as their own. They nitpicked at everything you did, from reading too much to what you ate and how you conducted yourself. Loneliness truly was more appealing than spending ceaseless amounts of time with women who were your mother's age and almost as bitter. Being surrounded with unmarried women was improper, they had told you — not that you paid them mind, as your ladies in waiting were all unmarried and far better company.

You found yourself in the gardens with your ladies-in-waiting more often than not, the weather was pleasant, and you'd much rather be outside than wallow inside without much joy. Flowers had brought you much more joy than you had anticipated, they livened your mood from the dreaded time spent with the married ladies in court. They wouldn't be seen outside without reason, whereas you did not care much for the opinions and thoughts of others in court, despite being a Princess.

The book within your lap had become much more interesting than whatever your ladies were gossiping about, you hadn't cared much for the people they were talking about, but the adventure of Lady Sunderland and her times in the Reach were too addictive to put down. Your ladies' had tried to gain your attention one too many times, but you were too engrossed in the book to care for the outside world.

The book was abruptly taken from your hands, making you both lose the page you were ready and had caused your brain to be hazy. You were both mad and irritated by the actions of someone clearly trying to ruin your day. "Do you mind?" You had asked, not expecting to see your husband as you looked up.

"Is it a crime for me to want to spend time with my wife?" Aemond had asked you, extending his hand as if expecting you to take it despite disturbing your peace.

"It's a crime when you snatch my book off of me and expect me to be happy about it." You retorted, deciding it was probably better to go along with him, and took his help to get off the grass. "Lucky for you, I like you enough not to lock you up."

"Oh how merciful." Aemond responded, not removing your hand from his grasp, "the flowers are blooming, you should be looking at the world instead of living in your books."

"I'll have you know I can do both equally," You retorted, leading Aemond away from the prying eyes and sharp ears of your ladies, "Now you're here you might as well keep me company if you won't let me read, perhaps a walk around the garden would do us both some good."

"I have a better idea than touring the gardens," Aemond had pulled you into a secluded pathway leading away from the hustle and bustle of everybody else.

"Your ideas always end up with us in trouble." You weren't entirely wrong, the disapproving look of Queen Alicent would be forever engrained in your brain.

"They may be troublesome, but you always have fun." You couldn't disagree, instead you simply followed Aemond to whichever location he wanted to show you.

Aemond had abruptly left you in the morning, leaving you needy and begging for him to finish the job he'd started yet he had left you without a thought for your own well-being. You could somewhat blame your crankiness and willingness to do such a deviant act in public with the possibility of anybody seeing and reporting such acts to the Queen.

The thought that you shouldn't be doing this had crossed your mind — the words would not leave your mouth though, you had wanted to do this, neediness had seeped in, with your skirts and underclothes raised above your waist, your modesty was damned and so were you.

The carnal need and desire you felt within yourself had put all your thoughts out the window, if you were in your usual mind frame you would have told Aemond no, that it was improper but words would not form in your throat. Instead, you kissed him back with almost as much longing.

The insatiability you had felt was consuming you, yet it felt more so annoying, Aemond hadn't truly done anything to you to make you feel this way, little touches and long stares did not warrant you feeling so flustered by the man so much you'd let him take you any which way he wanted.

You were expecting the current position you were in — being in public had never been a boundary you crossed with each other, yet he had so little patience when it had come to you, not even checking if the garden was secluded enough not to have prying eyes follow you, "Who knew my lady wife could be such a whore?" Aemond had whispered in your ear, though you could not form words of your own, "Wanting me to take her right now with not a care in the world who witnesses it."

"I think you can only get your cock up with the thought of an audience, you leave me so frustrated when we're alone in our chamber."

"You may come to regret that, wife." Aemond had always had to get the last word, "Your tongue may be sharp, but I will fuck you until you can't form another sentence." He'd begun unlacing his trousers, and you truly knew you were in for it — whatever it entailed, you weren't sure.

"You keep saying what you're going to do, but you haven't even stuck it in yet, tell me husband, are you struggling? Do you need me to help you stick it in? Can you not find the hole?" You couldn't finish your light-hearted taunting Aemond had entered you with little care, it was sloppy and lustful as though he felt as much need as you did.

You couldn't stay quiet, not with how intoxicating Aemond had felt inside, thrusting himself as far as he could inside of you, the slow pace was comfortable but irritating, you wanted it fast and hard, you wanted Aemond to show you the side of himself he hid away, the side which would make you blush if you so much as thought about it.

You were so used to being in control, Aemond had ensured you always felt comfortable and could stop at any moment but seeing him so dominant had made you tingle, then gasp as you felt a hand around your throat. "You've got to be quiet, you don't want the world to hear you, do you? Don't want the world to hear what a whore you become for cock."

The sight of your ladies seeing you in such a position had the opposite effect than what you thought it would, the idea of corrupting them as much as you had been corrupted had you clenching around Aemond's cock.

"Not so fast, princess," Aemond spoke, his pace slowing and causing the momentum and build-up to your own orgasm to be depleted. "Good girls get to cum, you've not been a good girl, have you?"

You couldn't respond, the hand wrapped around your throat had become tighter, "Going to cum inside you, princess, have you got a problem with that?" You had tried to shake your head, but with the grip Aemond had on your throat, your head hadn't moved an inch.

Aemond had increased his speed, and you knew he was close to his own peak despite ruining your own, the pettiness within you had decided if you didn't get your release neither was Aemond. As if sensing your plans, Aemond thrust into you harder, keeping you in place as though you were a doll he could do what he pleased. "You're going to take my seed, and you're going to thank me for it."

Your orgasm was too sudden for you to realise what was happening, from the words Aemond spoke to the way he was fucking you, it was far too much to process and your body reacted entirely by itself. You knew disobeying Aemond would have consequences but in the depth of your own pleasure and Aemond continuing to fuck you, you didn't care. You'd take any punishment to feel a moment of the pleasure you were currently feeling.

"Naughty girl." Aemond whispered in your ear as you came down from your high, "I thought you'd finally be a good girl, though I suppose I set my standards too high for you. Open your mouth."

You did as he commanded, not wanting to make him more upset with you. However, you weren't prepared for him to spit in your mouth — or to like it as much as you did. "You belong to me and you do as I say."

It hadn't taken long for Aemond to spill his seed within you, his grip on your throat loosening and his teeth biting into your skin. It wasn't often you had allowed him to cum inside you — the prospect of what would follow being in the forefront of your mind. "I'm yours." You reassured Aemond as he came down from his climax.

"Are you okay there?" You had asked, not used to such an intense reaction from Aemond, "I really enjoyed myself." You reassured him, you were so close and the euphoria of the situation had you cradling Aemond within your arms.

"It was just a bit... much, I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked, pulling out of you. At that moment, you knew you'd need to bathe. The feeling of his seed coming out of you had you almost recoiling.

"Trust me, you'd know if you were hurting me." You didn't want to approach the subject of being witnessed in such an act. "Your mother may be expecting more grandchildren soon."

"Moontea exists, my dear." You hadn't been married a year yet, it wasn't entirely suspicious that you had not shown signs of being pregnant. "And for what it's worth, I enjoy our time just being the two of us."

as always, thank you for reading this! i really appreciate it. i really enjoy writing for aemond so if y'all have any requests send them my way. my next hotd fic will be for helaena so if that interests you just message me! crossposted on ao3 under the name hedonism!

[gogh-with-the-flow]

Part 4 of cheating!Soap. Simon's POV. Angst. Potentially ooc Simon.

---

Simon Riley is a bad man. He wasn't given much of a choice really. He was dealt a bad hand that kept getting worse and worse. He tried to live a good life, despite his childhood, but it was all taken away from him in fire and blood. So he threw himself into it headfirst. He dove into it and found comfort in the fire and blood. He knew fire and blood. He's good at fire and blood.

Simon Riley is a lonely man. All his life, he's never had anyone. He keeps everyone he meets at arms-length at a minimum. He doesn't do love. He doesn't believe in it. The last time he tasted it was from his mother, and that taste has long since been replaced by the tinny taste of blood. He's comfortable being alone. He fills his time with work, and on the rare occasion he's sent back home to his barren flat in Manchester, the most he does is find a quick fuck at a pub.

He doesn't care about their names, he doesn't particularly care if they're a man or woman or something in between. He doesn't care what they look like, he hardly looks at them at all. They're just a means to an end for him. Just a warm hole to stuff himself into to feel good for a bit, to make his head quiet for a bit. He leaves once he's done. He never stays the night, never even stays much longer than to tie off his condom and pull his trousers back up.

It all changed when he met that damned spitfire of a man John MacTavish. Goes by the name 'Soap'. A ridiculous nickname in Simon's opinion, but then again, he goes by Ghost, so he doesn't have much room to talk.

Soap is loud and brash, but he can be careful and focused, too. He's intensely loyal and has a deep sense of justice. He fights for what's right, Ghost has seen it. He makes the icy shell around Ghost's heart melt, ever so slightly.

It's a slow progression, the way Soap draws Ghost into his orbit. Ghost doesn't even fully realize its happened until Las Almas. There was a moment when he thought he lost Johnny- when did Soap become Johnny? They had gotten separated and Ghost waited for him. Ghost never waited. But he couldn't, in that moment, hiding out in a church with a whole militia after him, even fathom leaving Johnny behind.

By the time Simon realized he loved Johnny it was too late. Johnny was married. Simon hadn't noticed that when he read Soap's dossier years ago. It must have happened in the time they had known each other. Simon had never pinned Johnny as someone to keep his cards so close to his chest like that, but he was proved wrong.

Johnny didn't wear his ring in the field. It was a liability, not just to have jewelry on in life-or-death situations, but also for anyone to see he was married, be it friend or foe. He didn't find out until after Chicago. It seemed that Soap's near-death experience at the top of a skyscraper had shaken him more than he'd let on. He'd snuck off at the bar to use the payphone and Ghost had followed.

"Hey, its me... Just needed to hear your voice, bonnie... No, no, I'm alright, just a wee bit banged up... Yeah, I miss you too, lovie... No I promise I'm alright. Just got a bit worried the whole 'til death do us part' thing was comin' sooner than expected... Sorry, bonnie... No, no, you're right, it's not funny. I'm sorry... I'll be home in a few days... Yeah... I'll see you then. I love you."

Simon hated you. He hated you and he didn't even know you. He didn't even know you existed and he hated you. Who were you? Some civilian? Some random woman who decided to shack up with Johnny? Probably just chasing valor or benefits or something. What could you possibly have to offer someone like Johnny? You could never understand him the way Simon does. Their bond is forged in fire and blood. You could never hope to understand it. They'd been through hell together. And yet you've wormed your way in between them. You, a woman he doesn't even know, have ruined everything. But Simon, ever the stoic sentinel, keeps it all under wraps with practiced patience. He didn't survive this long by letting his emotions control him. He'll figure out a way to fix this.

Then several months later, Simon meets you. It's after another mission, and you're picking up Soap from base, who had gotten a mild concussion and couldn't drive himself. You're there, waiting for him with a lovesick smile on your face. Simon watches as you embrace Johnny, wrapping him in your arms and holding him for a long time. Too long, in Simon's opinion. And then you pull back and hold Soap's head in your hands, turning his face side to side to get a better look at him. You laugh at something he says. Simon sneers. Oh, aren't you just perfect? A sweet little doting wife?

And then Johnny brings you over to introduce you two. You shake Simon's hand with both of yours, gratitude broadcast to the world as you thank him for getting your Johnny home safe. Your Johnny. Simon hates it. He hates how sincere you are. He wishes you were something worse, something worth hating. But Ghost reads people. He's great at it. But he can't read anything but genuine in you. And it makes him hate you more.

It isn't fair, Simon thinks. You don't deserve someone like Johnny. You haven't earned him. You haven't fought for him like Simon has. You haven't fought alongside him like Simon has. Simon has suffered. His whole life has been nothing but blood and fire. Doesn't he deserve something good for once? Hasn't he earned it? Even the devil himself got to taste heaven before he fell to earth.

That's what he tells himself on that night. The night they were stuck in that frozen safe house in the middle of Bumfuck, Russia. They'd narrowly escaped the enemy, and they didn't dare poke their heads out for risk of being spotted. Soap's radio had broken in the escape. Ghost was the only one with a means to communicate with Watcher. She tells him exfil will be there in the morning. He unplugs his radio. He tells Soap he can't get through. He tells himself that he's justified. He's a devil seeking a taste of heaven.

And what is Johnny if not heaven? Simon needs him. He needs to taste him. Johnny is worried. Simon can feel it rolling off him in waves. Simon can make it all better for him. Just for tonight.

"Who knows when exfil's gonna get here?" He asks. "What do we have to lose? It's just for tonight. Just let me take care of you, Johnny."

Simon can feel the hesitation in Johnny's body when he kisses him. But Johnny let's Simon lay him down. Simon whispers words into Johnny's ear. Not quite words of reassurance. But Simon Riley is a bad man, and a lonely man, and those two things make a nasty combination.

Simon tastes every part of Johnny's body he can get his mouth on. Neither man has bathed in days, and a lesser man would be disgusted, but Simon has experienced far worse. Besides, nothing about Johnny could ever disgust him.

And when Johnny let's him inside, Simon, that devil, finally tastes his slice of heaven. A whole life of suffering was worth is just to feel Johnny beneath him. It's perfect, he thinks. Even if only for the night. Simon looks Johnny in the eye. Simon stays with him afterward. Simon sleeps beside him.

Then morning comes. Exfil comes. Regret comes for Johnny, but not for Simon. Maybe he shouldn't had lied about his radio, but it was worth it, wasn't it? But now Johnny won't look at him. He won't speak to him. He practically runs from him when they land.

No, no, no. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. This was supposed to fix things! It was supposed to fix what you had ruined! You, Soap's perfect wife with your perfect life, perfectly ruining Simon's. Johnny was supposed to see that he needed Simon more. Johnny was supposed to see that he needed Simon as much as Simon needed him. What happened? What went wrong? Simon blames you. He always blames you.

Simon calls Johnny late that night, after he's sure you must be in bed. He pleads with Johnny to come to his senses. It wasn't a mistake! How could he say that? How could he say that it was wrong when Simon had never felt so right in his whole life? It's your fault. You've got Johnny trapped under some kind of spell. You can't love him like Simon could, like Simon does. Simon changes tactics.

"You have to tell her," Simon tells him. Maybe if you know, you'll leave. Then Simon can have Johnny all to himself, without you getting in the way again. "The guilt will eat you up, it's better if you just tell her. Its the right thing to do." Johnny reluctantly agrees.

Simon waits for Johnny to call him the next night, to tell him you've kicked him out. He waits for the call so he can swoop in and be Johnny's rescuer. Maybe then Johnny will see how much he loves him. But Johnny never calls. Simon would be tearing his hair out with anxiety if it wasn't so close-cropped to his head. What's happened to him? He hasn't lost control of his emotions like this in years. What have you done to him?

Simon drives to Johnny's house. He watches from the curb through your window. Johnny's alone. Good. He has half a mind to walk up to the door when he sees you come around the corner. He watches you two talk. He watches you cry. Crocodile tears, they must be! Poor you, having your perfect life be derailed. Simon was justified. It's only fair that you suffer even a fraction that he has so he can take some of your perfect life for his own.

But then Johnny is holding you. Johnny is kissing you. No, no this isn't right! You should be screaming at him to leave! You should be beating Soap to a pulp so Simon can put him back together! Why won't you let him have this?

He watches Johnny carry you away. He forces himself to drive away before he does something he'll regret. He speeds the whole way home. He turns his apartment upside-down. In the back of his mind he's thankful he lives in a shit part of town where no one calls the cops unless someone is actually dead. No noise complaints as he shatters every mirror.

It's your fault he's losing control. You you would just let him have Johnny, it would all be fine. But you, you selfish bitch, want to keep Johnny all to yourself. Why? Because you've got a ring? Because you made a vow? Well, Simon makes a vow to himself. No matter how long it takes, he will make Johnny his.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All the Good Girls Go To Hell 20

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, injury, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Friday! (again)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

It takes until noon to get yourself together. The world around you feels disconnected and hazy, beyond your reach. You just want to hide from the chaos your life has become, but you know you can't do that. Bucky says as much, telling you to take it all in small steps. The first; get your car.

You slump in the passenger seat of Bucky's range rover, arms folded over your fraught stomach. Never again. It's never worth it, even if it lets you forget. You just have to remember it all the next day, all while feeling shitty as hell.

He pulls up in front of Harry's house and you slowly sit forward to look around him. You gulp and fish out your keys, the jingle making you wince. You blow out a breath and undo your seat belt.

"Should I come with you, doll?" He offers, one hand on the wheel.

You look at him. His long hair is draw back into a ponytail at the back of his head, a few strands dangle loose to his chin. His square jaw is speckled with dark stubble and few patches of silver. His steely blue eyes shine as his plain white tee and blue jeans offer a perfect canvas for his easy allure. The way he looks at you makes it hard not to notice how handsome he is.

"No, no, I'll just go get my car and follow you back to your place. Should be easy."

You pull the door handle before you can lose your nerve. You're grateful for Bucky's help but you need to do this on your own. He can't coddle you and you can't expect everything from him. You don't want to be in this situation ever again; cast out and lost.

You get out and gently shut the door. You round the front of the tall rover and push your glasses up your nose. You cross the street, tucking your hands in your pockets as you keep your shoulders curled and head down. You cross the pavement and head up the tarmac, stopping short as you catch sight of your car.

Your mouth falls open as you gape at the mess strewn across it. Shaving cream streaks the hood and roof, toilet paper draped over it in tangled strips, and eggs smashed into the worn paint. As you get closer, you notice the only blank patch is keyed with the words 'dumb bitch'. You stare stunned at the desecration of your only possession.

You shake your head and don't look up at the house. You can guess it was probably Harry and his friends. This is the type of stuff the got up to in high school and these people made it clear that you're an outsider. 

You near the car and grab a few strips of toilet paper, pulling them off and wadding them up as you try to wipe off the yolk and half-melted cream. Some of it's caked on after sitting for at least half the night. You sigh and focus on just tearing the tissue off. You can hit a car wash but you don't know what you'll do about the scratches.

As you scrape off what you can, you hear a door and sense a shadow. Harry's laughter rattles in the afternoon sun and you ignore him as you toss clumps of cream and toilet paper onto the ground. You unlock the door and he catches it from the outside, holding it in place.

"Do you get the hint now?" He asks darkly.

"Leave me alone," you tug on the door and it doesn't budge.

"Naomi is better than you. You're just some stupid nerd who doesn't know her place. The only reason Peter was interested is because he wants to make MJ jealous--"

"I don't care--"

"You're too boring for her," he sneers, "so better go off back to your corner and cry, little girl."

"Frig off," you spit at him, "and let go!"

You try to jerk the door away and he just snickers again. You bear your teeth in frustration and roll your eyes. If he wants you gone, why won't he let you go?

"She helped. The eggs were her idea," he taunts. You don't care if she did or not, her loyalties are clear enough. You saw them last night.

"Hey," Bucky's voice rips through your standoff and you turn as he storms up the driveway. "Back up, jackass."

"Jesus Christ, not this geezer," Harry snarls.

"Yes, this geezer," Bucky barks, "go inside before I show you what an old man can do."

"Whatever, bro."

"Whatever," Bucky stomps past you and stops only inches from Harry, looming over him, "I'm up for whatever you choose, boy."

Harry huffs and curls his lip. He raises his hands and takes a step back, "you're not worth the trouble."

"Sure," Bucky keeps his shoulder in front of you, blocking you in, "go on and run back to your posse of dumbasses."

Harry waves him off and turns on his heel, slides flopping under him as he tramps like a toddler back to the house. You shudder and look at Bucky as he turns to you. He rests his hand on the top of the door.

"You alright, doll?" He softens his tone.

"Yeah, fine, he's just dumb."

"Mm," he looks past you, "assholes. Let's get this thing cleaned up and--" He pauses and shifts away, bending to examine the message etched into the paint, "hmmmmm," he growls, "good thing I know how to buff this stuff out." He stands straight, hands on his hips, his pose accentuating his chest and biceps, "you want me to drive this thing till we get it washed or--"

"No, no, it's okay," you murmur, "I just wanna get out off here."

"Sure thing," he tries to smile but his cheek ticks as his eyes drift angrily to the house, "don't let appearances fool you, there people are trash."

🌞

When you get back to Bucky's, he unfolds a lawn chair and points you to it. There's little argument to be had as his anger has you tongue-tied. You know it's not directed at you but you can feel it steaming off of him. You've never been good at handling that sort of emotion, especially from others.

It's probably for the better. Your head is pounding, even in the shadow of the awning, and you stomach is still wobbly with uncertainty. You rest your chin in your hand as you watch him spraying your car with the nozzle of the hose. As he does, the splash back dampens the front of his tee, the fabric clinging to his stomach as he sneers at his task.

He shut the hose off and grabs the sponge from the bucket, scrubbing at the harder to get patches until has has it mostly clean. He gives it another rinse with hose and rolls it up, dumping the bucket in the grass and dropping the sponge inside. He puts the pail down and sits on the steps, only a foot away from you. 

"Sure made a mess of myself," he looks down at his wet shirt, wiping his hands on it before tugging it upwards. He strips it off and shakes it out as you avert your wiley gaze. "I'll buff the side later and it should be fine. Probably have to find somewhere to fix the paint properly, though."

"Thanks, uh, you've really done... enough."

"Shitty," he mutters clutching the shirt in his hand. As he leans an elbow on his knee, your eyes stray to the trim of hair across his broad chest. You hide your wandering gaze and focus on your hands, "I'm sorry she dragged you into all this. Really... and I know I've probably not made it any easier."

"I guess I'm just confused. I don't know what to do with myself. I guess I should keep looking for a job but at this rate, I won't have one until I have to head back to campus. If I even get to go." You exhale shakily, "my parents split tuition but if my mom cuts me off... I don't know what to do."

He nods and gives a thoughtful hum. He sits back and props his elbow on the step behind him, his muscled stomach tugging at your gaze. No, stop.

"I never had kids. Obviously. Always knew I couldn't give them everything I would want to, you know? But if I did, I'd give them everything I could. I just don't get it. I really don't, you're a good girl and they just don't see what's right in front of them," he sucks his teeth, "well, how about..." he stops himself and lets his leg sway one way then the other, "I could offer you a job. You could do some work around the shop. Sweeping up sawdust and stuff but the pay is good."

You nod and chew your lip. It's a nice idea. More than you deserve.

"What... what about..."

"Steve? You let me handle him. Really, he's just a dumbass. Gets carried away. Besides, sounds like he has his hands full with your mom and his wife," he scoffs, "you'll be working with me, not him."

You wiggle your foot, "I don't know..."

"It's your choice but it'll keep you busy and it could help with money problems," he puts his hand flat, "all you have to do is say yes. Oh, and obviously, whatever you decide, you got a place to stay."

You glance up at the house and frown, "I don't... what about Naomi?"

"What about her? If she comes back, same thing for her. She has a room here. I made promises and I don't break those. However she feels about me, I wasn't the one who hit the self-destruct button."

You drop your head, holding it tight as it feels ready to splinter. It's not just your hangover, it's everything else. You squeak and rub your temples with your thumbs.

"You okay?" Bucky leans forward and touches your elbow.

You lift your head gently, "yeah. I just feel awful. That I ever thought you were... bad. After everything, you won't even turn her away."

"She's lost. She's careless but she's young. I only ever wanted to help her, I was just selfish about how," he shrugs and retracts his hand, "but anyway," he stands and touches his lower back, "I think you should go inside, chill out on the couch, and watch some Netflix. I'll get you something nice and greasy to eat for that hangover."

You whimper and give a pathetic smile, "I'm sorry about that," you stand with some effort, "I don't usually drink like that--"

He laughs, "don't apologise," he waves you up the steps ahead of him, "I'm going to start being honest with you so I do need to tell you that it was really cute."

You giggle and shake your head as you reach for the front door. He's fast and extends his arm past you, opening it around you, close, so close you can feel the heat roiling off of him.

"No, it wasn't," you insist.

"It really was," he snorts as he follows you inside, "you get this pout and it's just..." he's quiet as you slip your shoes off, a lull as he weighs his words, "gorgeous."

You chuckle nervously and rub your neck. He clears his throat and toes off his sneakers. He moves around you cautiously, as if fighting not to get any closer.

"I'll go grab my phone and we'll figure out what to order," he mutters, his tone uneven, "you just make yourself at home."

🌞

You feel a bit more stable once you have a good meal in your stomach. Good being a relative term. The greasy cheeseburger and onions rings are hardly nutritious but they are satisfying. 

You slurp on your diet coke as you lay with your head up against the armrest and lose yourself in the shallow drama of the reality show personalities. An argument about a dress really is compelling theatre. You put the cup down and hug the cushion to your chest, laughing as a woman storms out, tossing her wine in the process. Wow, and you thought your life was ridiculous.

You yawn and close your eyes. It's getting late. You should probably go to the guest room and try to sleep off the last of your alcoholic regret. 

The end of the couch dips and your eyes snap open. Bucky sits just below your feet, tilting his head at the screen. He arches his brow as his eyes search the television. His mouth slants as he looks at you.

"So, why are these women screaming at each other?" He asks.

"Oh, uh, you can change it," you go to sit up but he firmly puts his hand on your ankle.

"No, I'm curious. Genuinely."

"Really, it's just a stupid show--"

"I want to know," he smiles and glances back at the TV, "they are really angry."

"Well, the blonde one borrowed a dress from the brunette and never gave it back but the blonde claims she did and the other woman is lying. And the other blonde is saying she saw the dress in the brunette's closet," you explain and end with a chortle, "it really is nonsense."

He keeps his hand on your ankle, his thumb rubbing through the cotton of your sock. He nods and squints, "the brunette is lying."

"Hmm? How do you know?"

"You can tell," he points with his other hand, his other slipping down your foot. "She keeps looking left."

"Oh?" You look between him and the television, overly aware of his hand. He pushes his thumb into your sole and you groan at the delightful pressure.

"You ticklish?" He wonders as he drags his thumb along your arch, "huh?"

"A little," you confess, "what are you--"

"Just... being nice," he grips your foot as you try to pull away once more, "just lay back. Everyone loves a good foot massage, don't they?"

"I... I wouldn't know," you push yourself up on your elbows and watch him knead your foot, barely withholding a moan. He knows what he's doing. "Never had one before."

"Really? Well, you got a lot of tension right... here," he poke his thumb into you and your squeal. It sends a zing up your leg. "See? I told you, you need to relax. I'm just helping." He grabs your ankle higher up and yanks, just hard enough to have you flat on your back, "sit back and enjoy, doll. You deserve it."

[flowering-thought]

Since I messed up I'll still write it just without the down bad ask I had for context ;-;

It was Sweet Anon if anyone wants to know-

Not edited

WARNING - MINORS DNI

AFAB reader and reader is described as feminine and chubby/plus sized.

Yandere themes, piercings, tattoos, semi-public

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Takeo Kawahara

NSFW Headcannons

• Not a virgin. He used to have a couple of girlfriends but he never felt any emotional attachment to them and while he found the sex nice, it wasn't amazing.

• About 6.5 inches (16 cm) with a girth full enough to barely fit in your pretty hand perfectly and a slightly fatter tip. Bends a bit when it's fully hard and shows off his Jacob's ladder when it bobs against his abdomen-

• Man's can go for quite a bit. About 3 or 4 rounds. He's a tattoo artist so he sits most of the day and his sessions so all that energy at the end of the day builds up quite a bit.

• Following that up with his hands. Takes care of them quite well and knows definitely how to use them well. Very slender and long fingers as well.

• Loves it when you use your hands on his dick. He can't help but love seeing your hands stroke his cock. May even enjoy it when you get your nails done and he gives you some money to splurge on getting your nails done just to see you wrap them around his dick.

• May also ask sometimes to pick the color or give you images of some nails he saw that he thinks you would like. He loves to spoil you and if he gets to see those spoils around his dick it's a bonus ♡

• Not too into toys as he gets a little jealous of anything even an object getting you off beside him.

• Does enjoy tying you up on occasion though. His favorite is Shinju (the shibari type around your chest) as he loves to suck and grope and bite occasionally when he wants to leave more marks.

• Moans. The man moans a lot. He's also got quite a sensitive neck and lets out small groans when you suck or bite down and leave marks.

• Loves overstimulating you. He just can't help but adore it when your legs start shaking or your thighs quiver against his head when you tense up and grab his head to try and pull him away from your aching and sensitive clit.

• Also definitely loves to cum inside. Usually uses birth control for you or if you don't like that he'll get a vasectomy cause he wants to keep you comfortable. He does like kids! He just wants to enjoy his time with you before he's ready to let another person take away some of that time.

• Also a very pussy drunk man. Sometimes even if his cock hurts he'll keep going cause he can't help but love the feeling of you wrapped around his dick.

• Calls your pussy many things such as soft, mine, pretty, tight, wet, and all sorts of others but with the prettiest little moan coming out of his lips.

• His favorite position is probably cowgirl. He loves watching your tits bounce and that cute face you make when he suddenly thrusts up. It does usually end up with him getting impatient and sitting up to kiss you while he speeds up.

• Honestly he has a sketchbook he hides in a drawer that contains all the lewd drawings he has of you. He doesn't like pictures as they feel too raw to him. So he draws the faces you make or the way your hands reach down to grab his hair. Or sometimes he catches a glimpse of you two in the mirror and can't help but adore the sight of you and commits that sight to memory for later.

• He's good at aftercare but by the time you both are done he's usually too tired and might either collapse on you or beside you while still inside of you. Your walls just draw him in and make him addicted.

• Quite adores quickies. He occasionally pulls you aside to a quiet place and just tries to get off as quickly as possible with you. Does have a thing for public sex cause he loves how shy you get ♡

• Also has two moles right along his v-line and a tattoo right in his inner thigh near his crotch. The tattoo is the Draco constellation and when his cock is flaccid it rests right against that tattoo so perfectly ♡

• Might even think about permanently marking you but only if you agree. After all he hates doing things you don't like. But if you give him enough reason such as trying to leave he might just mark you with a special piercing or possibly something a little more permanent...

But he puts his whole heart and soul into making love to you, he can't help himself find hind himself lost when it comes to you. And isn't it better to be lost in you than without you?

[argreion]

Can i request some more girl dad Leon, or some hcs regarding this? I just love domestic fluff with Leon ughhh i love him :((((

Thank you for sending a ask wonderful anon! (Didn’t expect an anon to ask THIS fast!)

So, I know that what I wrote was subpar, considering it was one of the first times I ever wrote in general. Should expand on what we've seen, y'know?

Apologies if the drabble is a bit iffy with pacing. I feel a little out of place amongst writers due to like... How I write. That feels weird to say- 😭

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Girl Dad Leon! headcanons and a drabble!

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I'll start with the first thing I can see. The dressing up.

❀ He will occasionally dress up for his daughter. Leon curses himself out in his head, as he'd forced you to help him. Tighten the built-in corset, help him with his hair, and please... Don't make him wear heels!

❀ First, it would be a Disney princess, then once he has to deal with Barbie? Or a superhero? Superman? Batman? Spider-Man? Man, he's finally out. He draws the line at a princess, unless the puppy eyes and crying are used against him.

❀ Fine! He finally caved in, with an annoyed, defeated sigh. The outfit is bought on Amazon, amidst your bickering for him to not buy something off eBay. (Look, he's sorry, ok? He may get a decent sum of money each paycheck. Leon is relatively cheap, or looking for a bargain. Blame the kid in him for wanting to save money!)

❀ The only reason he does it is that he loves his daughter, ok!? Maybe you compliment or tease him on being saved by a 'hero', but that doesn't matter! At the end of the day, he doesn't mind as he's forced to save your daughter from one of her stuffies.

Saving another civilian (or being a princess for your child) is a good deed to him. Something else he looks forward to every day, even with the aches in his bones, bruises on his body, and constant doctor visits.

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Next are a few other things I have to add on this subject because I do see Leon as a dad who has a daughter AND a son. This is just purely if he has a daughter, so don't mind that. Fluffy stupidity up ahead!

❀ Make-up. Make-up. Make-up. Let's be honest, who hasn't played with make-up a bit when they were a little girl? His daughter has certainly got into a few places she shouldn't! Dabble a little sparkly blue eyeshadow on her dad's eyelids. Smudge some highly pigmented red on Daddy's lips. Isn't he beautiful, mama? Looks like he came out of the circus? Yep, that's the make-up for ya!

❀ Stickers on his motorcycle... Stickers on his helmet. Wears them with pride on his helmet. Even if the laughs of his co-workers, Hunnigan at some points, and Chris! He'd punch Chris if he could, but he can't let his daughter see daddy 'roughhousing' with his friend. Sends his daughter after Chris as revenge for laughing at him. Still the favorite thing of his daughter in general. He'd purposefully buy stickers and let her stick them on anything of his. No guns, though, no guns.

❀ Will sneak a little treat for his daughter before dinner. Shhh, don't tell your mom, ok? He'll probably get hounded for it, and we both know he's a sucker for the two girls in his life. It's a Daddy-Daughter secret, m'kay?

❀ BEDTIME STORIES? Any day that Leon is there and not on a mission, Leon will take his time to read a bedtime story. His favorite is his daughter's favorite because it brings her the most joy! Anything that makes his daughter happy he'll note in the back of his mind. Has fallen asleep with his daughter. (Take a picture and keep it, but also send it to Leon. He'll want it for memories.)

Now for the small thought in my head...

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How many years had it been since you and Leon went on vacation? Going down to the Bahamas like every rich American did. Or every stressed, overworked dad suggested with a maniacal look on their face. This time, it wouldn't be the two of you. A plus one which was your daughter joined the pair of you. Joined you on the plane to Italy, and in the very Gelateria you stood in with Leon.

It was nice to get away from the smog filled city and the screams of fighting couples. Being able to appreciate the view of the nearby bridge and the welcoming ambience of another country. Asides from avoiding the scams and having to chase down a toddler once or twice... It was nice!

Your daughter was pointing out the window with babbles of joy. Leon was using his mother language as he paid for the gelato for the trio of you. Keeping your daughter beside you was fairly easy, as she waited for a sweet treat. How you wish minutes ago she wasn't screaming, and the only way a kid calms down is with something sweet.

So, why not let your child taste your home country?

“Grazie ancora una volta.” Leon thanked, followed with a small nod as he made his way through the small line towards the pair of you. A smile on his face as a scheme was brought into play. Well, not exactly a scheme—more so just being an ass.

While you pay attention outside the window, an unknown presence crept up behind you. The use of military training in his favor as you spoke with your daughter,

“What do you think of Italy so far?” You questioned, looking down at her. Gently squeezing her hand as she hummed.

The little girl replied, not turning her head from the window. Pointer's finger pressed to the cold glass, leaving a faint smudge as you gently tugged her away. “Daddy said this place was cool when he lived here. Right now, it's just really hot.” She looked up at you, her brows furrowed. “Are you sure daddy was right that this place is cool?”

A response fell dead right on your lips as the feeling of frigidness gently touched your cheek. Your reaction time was slow as a small chuckle came from Leon's lips.

“It'll be cooler with these, bambola.”

Why'd you groan? At the cheesiness or the joke that only managed to make your daughter squeal. Already moving away to go after her father. Like the cookie monster but instead for the sister of ice cream.

You brushed the small bit of gelato off your cheek. A hint of annoyance now bubbling in your system as you brought it to your lips. Trying the flavor that seemed to please you. Silky

“What's this?” You asked, meeting Leon's gaze as he heard the question. The dad is already in the process of handing the small gelato cone off to his daughter.

“It's gelato?” Leon confusingly answered. “I tho-”

“No, no, what's the flavor?”

Was he that forgetful? He lets himself choose the flavors and doesn't even think to tell you? It made you slightly regret even getting with him at this point. Maybe you should've sat down with him to talk about his memory. Not that he'd remember that, anyway.

“It's uh, Cream Caramel. Reminds me of when I was young.”

Leon smiled, with the slight tilt of his hand, as he responded with a more detailed answer. One of the traits you grew to hate and love as he answered. The gelato slowly slid off until...

“Merda!”

Jumping at the loud cuss of your daughter, eyes wide as you snapped your neck to stare at her. Her eyes meeting her father's gelato on the cold, lonely floor. Why were you almost cackling? Leon was staring at the gelato, and you were barely holding in your laugh?

“Where'd you learn that, sweetie?” Leon asked, forcing a smile on his face as a small part of him died on the inside. Brain wanting to cry as he accepted the fact his childhood fell down onto the floor.

Your daughter paused, frozen. Mimicking the statues from earlier as you toured Florence.

“D-dad.” Was the only thing she squeaked out.

When she said that, regret was the only thing that could describe the two of you meeting eyes. One for the fact they let Leon cuss near their child. The other for even saying it.

He knew he should've stuck to overtime as he realized the fuck-up he did.

Writer Gods from above, please don't end my soul for not writing for a month. 🙏

[rhadamanthes]

Shared Custody. Sukuna x reader x Toji

Part 2 from this work !

Word count : 3k

Warnings : established relationship,threesome, double penetration, hate sex (kinda), oral sex female receiving, creampie, overstimulation, praise, bit of fluff and bit of angst

The weight on your lap is slowly lifting and you tighten your grasp as a reflex. Opening your eyes you see Toji trying to take little megumi in his arms. You blink the sleep out of your eyes and relax your arms.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't waiting for you this early" you say standing on your feet. He scoffs, securing megumi on his hips

"I was gone for two hours, you two slept the whole time?" 

Ever since you moved in, a lot of things have happened. Your boyfriend befriending the teasing neighbour is one of them. And the more you get to know him the more it makes sense they're a lot alike in more ways than one. They often go to the gym together, and can talk for hours about cars and UFC that you don't really care about, but you're glad they do. Sukuna with his gruff nature doesn't have a lot of friends, even if he'll never admit you know that this is what they are for each other. 

When Toji learned that you worked from home he asked you if it was ok for you to keep his 6 year old son from time to time. You gladly accepted, thinking it'll bring you some company and you're already used to babysitting thanks to Yuuji : Sukuna's little brother who is the same age as Megumi. Needless to say Megumi is a spitting image of his father both physically and personality wise. He slowly warmed up to you and is now fully comfortable in your presence. As a proof Toji dropped him off earlier and just a few minutes in he climbed on your lap asking you to draw with him. Megumi ended up falling asleep and you followed him. 

Snapping out of your reverie you reach on the coffee table for the drawing Megumi did for his dad. you show it to him smiling at the fact that he drew a wolf with a scar on his lips. Toji smiles at the sight too before meeting your eyes

"You did this for me?" he asks with one of his signature smirk. You roll your eyes before pushing him to the door. He turns around thanking you for keeping megumi this afternoon before planting a kiss on your cheek and leaving. You freeze at his gesture, he's never been physical with you like you've never been with him. It makes you uncomfortable and you feel a pit in your stomach.

"Do you want me to kill him ?" you gasp putting your hands over Sukuna's mouth

"Shhhhh! he can probably hear us!" You debated the whole night to Tell Sukuna or not about the kiss incident as it made you feel like you were hiding something from him. Now that you two were in bed you decided it was the right time but he doesn't seem to take it seriously.

"Want me to kill Toji Fushiguro ?" he repeated louder this time. You hit his arm and give him a hard stare.

"I'm being serious, I'm telling you this because it makes me feel weird."  He covers your hand with his own petting you lightly.

"I understand, maybe it's just his way to thank you you've been helping him out a lot this days with the brat" you raise your eyebrows at his answer

"You're taking this very chill, if it was Satoru you'd be fuming"

"Because i think that this idiot is not really gay"

"Oh please he is engaged to Suguru and we're literally invited to the wedding" you scoff

"All i'm saying is until one of them get pregnant i'll not believe it" You chuckle at his words

"So we're good i just wanted to tell you to avoid an awkward situation" you say caressing his hair.

"All good baby, go to sleep," he adds, kissing your lips. As always he holds you close to his chest, hands on your tits before he drifts to sleep. You can't shake the weird feeling you have about his reaction. 

A few days pass. Toji seems to have noticed your attitude change and he's been teasing you even more, sending wink your way anytime he gets a chance. He is infuriating you; he knows you're trying to set boundaries and he's just laughing at your face. You think about this while laying flat on your bed, eyes closed. A long sigh escapes your mouth, tonight is the weekend and you want to do something with Sukuna, he should be coming home anytime now. You hear the front door opening  but you don't move, eyes still closed, a soft smile playing on your lips, the mattress dip next to you, rubbing his back softly as you tell him your plans.

"Baby~ I was thinking tomorrow  we could go to the funfair and then the movies after what do you think?"

"I think you should ask your boyfriend when he gets home" Your eyes snap open and you straighten your back. Toji is seating on your bed looking at you like he owns the place, you can even process what's happening you're just staring at him dumbfounded

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" you snap "What the hell is wrong with you? Get out of here!" you yell pushing his back trying to get him off the bed. He doesn't even budge, you were about to drag him by his hair when Sukuna's voice echoes in the room

"Hey, what's happening here ?" he asks in his nonchalant voice. You instantly walk to him grabbing his shirt in your fist.

"What in god's name is your problem" you say on the verge of a breakdown

"Calm down" he says attempting to unclench your fists. Losing all of your patience you grab his jaw digging your nails in his skin in the process.

"One thing you are not going to do is tell me to calm down when you know damn well it's your fault you think i'm stupid ? you think i don't know what's happening?"

The thing is Sukuna has always been vocal about his needs and fantasies. He's been telling you for a long time now that he would like to have a threeesome not with a  woman  like most men want but with another man, because he likes to see you struggle. The weird gut feeling you had the night you confessed to him slowly came to this conclusion: he doesn't mind because he wants this to happen with Toji. He is a handsome man, that's for sure but the fact that Sukuna is going behind your back makes you want to pull the hair out of your scalp.

A long sigh escapes his lips. You feel his hands on each of your cheeks. He crouches down so your eyes are on the same level as his, but you keep your gaze on the ground not wanting to give him this satisfaction.

"Baby, I didn't tell you anything because I know that you would catch up on it" he says in a sweet voice. You scoff in  disbelief meeting his gaze

"So you and your friend had fun toying with me all week long ? Well I'll leave you to it, go on and explore each other's bodies" you spat rushing past him. Before you can reach the doorknob his arms are wrapped around your waist, your back flush against his chest. You try to wiggle out of his grasp but there's no use. His head is right on top of yours

"Now now it's not a way to behave when we have a guest" he coos, you feel him move back until he sits on the bed, you on his lap. 

"I have a feeling the funfair won't happen tomorrow" you hear Toji say from his side of the bed. You don't even look his way at the remark. He probably just wants to rile you up more, but your whole body is buzzing you want to slap him so badly. Sukuna pet you thigh, proud that you don't let your anger control you.

"Good girl" he murmurs, kissing the back of your head. You tense at his gesture still not at peace with his whole plan

"You look like a puppy on his master lap you know" Toji taunts You dig your nails in Sukuna's arms about to lose your patience

"Toji have some respect for my girlfriend will you ? Or else we can have fun without you." Your body relaxes a bit at his words; he's not willing to let any transgression for the sake of his fantasy.

"I would like to apologize but pup is not even looking me in the eyes". you huff through your nose in anger.

Sukuna moves your body sideways so you're facing Toji . You're only taking a good look at him now he's wearing a black compression shirt with a loose sweatpant and his signature flip flop.  You roll your eyes at his ease, a smirk crosses his lips at your reaction. He's holding his hand in front of yours.

"That's your apology?" you ask incredulously.He withdraws his hands rolling his eyes.

Sukuna has the feeling of watching two children argue and he is getting impatient

"Toji why don't you show her how sorry you are instead of using your words" he raises his voice. He then gets you off his lap.

You turn to him searching for an answer in his eyes but he's ignoring you, taking off his jacket with a smile on his lips. Toji is kneeling in front of you, parting your thighs. Even though he's infuriating, you have to admit that seeing him on his knees for you makes you feel hot inside. He bites at your skin until he reaches your underwear, closing his eyes he takes a long sniff. What a damn pervert you think.He starts licking at your covered clit, emerald eyes never leaving yours. You're starting to get flustered, heat rushing to your cheek. Sukuna places himself behind you and you lean on his torso in an attempt to cool off a bit. His hands snake under your shirt to grab your tits, his indexes are teasing your naked nipples.The contrast of Toji hot tongue on your fold and the coldness of Sukuna fingertips makes you quiver. Your underwear has been long discarded, Toji is eating your pussy like a starved man, alternating between swirling his tongue around your clit and slobbering on it, leaving your arousal all over his lower face not even caring to look you in the eyes anymore, his grunts and the obscene sound of your wetness meeting his skin fills the room. At this pace you're going to unravel at any given moment. you grab a lock of his hair to get his attention

"Toji i'm going to cum" you manage to croak, and you hate how weak your voice sounds like you were not  fighting him just five minutes ago. He groans in response, picking up his pace.

Sukuna grabs you jaw turning your face to his, you reach for a kiss desperate to feel more of him. His hand slides down to your throat keeping you in place while the other is still toying with your sensitive tits. Soon enough you lose yourself in pleasure cumming all over Toji's face. Sukuna absorbs your moans pressing his lips deeper on your own. Out of breath you break the kiss. Toji stands up and you notice the obvious tent in his pants. He makes a quickwork of his sweatpant standing in his underwear in front of you. Looking down on you, his face still glistening with your arousal, you want to satisfy him back. Before you can reach for his underwear he plops on the bed, hands behind his head looking at you with a big smile. He takes joy in your frustration

"Don't be so eager i want the real deal you can suck me off later " he coos spreading his legs wide.

"Do you ever just shut up" you groan annoyed with his antics once again.

"Why don't you make me?" he says, fluffing the pillow behind his head, making himself comfortable once again.

Filled with confidence you straddle him ducking his face into the pillow, he chuckles at your roughness but you quickly stuff his mouth with your index and middle finger. He groans, closing his teeth around your flesh sucking your fingertips in his wet mouth.

"Careful now don't break him" you hear Sukuna behind your back. He places a kiss on your naked shoulder before he slides both Toji's and his underwear down. 

They're fully hard, your mouth salivating at the thought of them filing you at the same time. You retrieve your finger from Toji's mouth, kissing him hungrily. The kiss has nothing to do with the one you share with your boyfriend. This is a battle for dominance. He bites at your lips, licks your teeth and pulls you impossibly closer as he digs his hands on your sides. From behind Sukuna can't help but laugh at the sight, you were never an angry person and seeing you taking it out on Toji like that amuses him. He takes his length along with Toji's stroking them a few times before he prodds them at your entrance. You gasp at the unfamiliar size, clenching Toji's shoulders. Looking back at Sukuna you whimper a little.

"Relax baby" he says tapping your ass.You lay your head flat on Toji's chest trying to unwind. The stretch is nothing you ever felt before, you bite on his pec as they slide more and more of themselves inside, until they're fully stretching you out

"Oh my god, fuck" you blurt at your fullness. You slowly straighten your back scare to make any sudden move.

"Go on doll, go at your own pace" Toji says he's out of breath like he just ran a marathon. Fuck you want to see him crumble.

Using his body as an anchor you start to move your hips slowly the three of you groan in unison at the new feeling. the more you move the more you start to feel pleasure flooding your body it's like electricity in your fingertips. Sukuna locks his beefy arms around your middle part, thrusting slowly inside you. His breath is erratic and you wonder what it feels like for him to be both inside of you and flushed against Toji's member. 

" Shit you're wetting my balls," Toji says, his voice faltering. Both of them sound so spent at the moment, it makes you gain a confidence you never knew you could have. Your moans fill the room as they're both hitting your g-spot.

"It feels so good " you gasp biting Sukuna's cheek. Toji grips your hips to thrust up inside of you and it drives you mad. You don't have time to feel empty as their cock bullies your soft spot one after the other.

Sukuna pins you against Toji's chest, bending one of your arms against your back. With your free limb you claw at his skin

"You're so big" you cry against his chest, tears filling your eyes as the pleasure escalates quickly. You feel his large hand grab your jaw before he melts on your lips.

The kiss is not as hungry as before, it's messy and leaves drool on your chin. "Fuck me" He groan against your lips and you know he's close. You grind your hips as best as you can, maintaining eye contact. Soon his pretty jade orbs roll on the back of his head filling your womb with his seeds. You chuckle a bit leaning your back against Sukuna's body now that you're satisfied with his release. Sukuna sticks his head against yours looking at your victim

"Look at what you did baby, you're proud ? " he asks in his deep voice. You nod your head, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you intended to make him endure the same fate. Toji's face contorts in both pleasure and pain as his sensitive tip is still inside of you. Reducing him to a moaning mess after he's been teasing you so long makes you proud. Continuing his ministrations Sukuna brings you closer to the edge until you feel your whole body spasm with bliss while he fills you up. You collapse on Toji's chest not feeling strong enough to stand another second. Sukuna is hovering you, you can tell by the heat you feel in your back. He pulls out slowly of your cunt  grunting at the sight of his and Toji's spunk leaking out of your hole. You feel so sinful thinking about it.   

Lifting your body from Toji's he places you on the bed right next to him. He then leans on you as he peppers kisses all over your face and neck.

"I'm sorry if I let you get worked up all week hmm?" he coos placing another kiss on your face. Still hazy from your high you just nod , caressing his hair.

"But you did so good for us today, pretty girl, I'm so proud" he says, hiding his face in your neck and chewing on it. You giggle at the tickling sensation spreading in your skin.

From his side of the bed Toji feels a pit form in his stomach being the spectator of such an intimate scene reminds him that he has no one to go home to. Sure there is megumi, and the little guy had helped to keep him on track without even knowing it but Sharing your life with someone else is different. Getting up from the bed he hurriedly put his clothes back on, desiring to go back to his apartment as fast as he could. Your soft voice stops him in his tracks. turning around he sees your hand extended to him,your tired eyes urging him closer. He closes the gap between the two of you, taking your hand in his.

"Tomorrow let's meet for ice cream.  You will buy me plan B after hmm ?" you say squeezing his hands. He chuckles at your request but agrees nevertheless. He places a soft kiss on the back of your hand before taking his leave, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. 

[qqueenofhades]

I'm having a bit of a rough mood from seeing that the judge in the Georgia case dismissed some of the orange motherfucker's charges.

Can I get some your ever-insightful perspective on this, and if there's still hope for prison time for something? Anything at all?

I can offer a few pieces of context on this, yes. First, the judge did dismiss a few of the less-substantiated and secondary charges against Trump in the Georgia election interference case. However, these charges were primarily related to "soliciting others to make false statements," i.e. how he enlisted others in the purpose of overturning the GA election results, and do not contest or impact upon the actual fact of election subversion (which is at the core of the prosecution). The judge also openly invited the prosecutorial team to re-submit the dismissed charges with more substantiated evidence and clearer testimony, so this wasn't a from-the-bench hack job like the ones Aileen Cannon keeps running in the Mar-a-Lago classified documents case (seriously, when can we appeal to the 11th Circuit to get her taken off? WHEN???) Which, considering that this is a Republican judge appointed by a Republican governor (Brian Kemp) is a good sign.

In short, this wasn't the judge saying "all these charges are bogus and inadmissible," it was the judge saying "I'll dismiss a few of these for not being as well substantiated as the others, but please resubmit with revisions/improvements and I will be happy to consider them again." And while I am not a lawyer, it is my understanding that prosecutors typically bring a multiplicity of charges, including some that might not ultimately stick, in case of this exact circumstance where some of them get dismissed/required to undergo judicial review/are otherwise ancillary to the central indictment. Which, in this case, is still intact. So no, Trump is 100% not "getting entirely off the hook" or "no longer under investigation in Georgia" or whatever else. I'm sure the GOP will try to spin it as such, but ignore them. The Trump "find me 11,780 votes" phone call to Raffensperger and the rest of his Georgia election interference has not been dismissed, and the RICO case still largely exists as first filed.

This is also a good sign that the judge won't order Fani Willis dismissed and the case completely shut down, as the Georgia Republicans have been trying to do with their hit-job inquiry into her personal life. If the judge was leaning toward dismissing Willis/the case entirely, this could have been a lot more sweeping intervention, but it doesn't look like he's going to do that, and in fact offered them an invitation to re-submit and make the case stronger. So that actually bodes better for the chances of eventually securing a conviction in the Georgia case, if the prosecutors have to go back to the drawing board and make sure everything is airtight. It's probably helpful to see all this in the above light and to understand that all legal cases drag on for years, with forward progress and setbacks. Especially this one, which is unprecedented in all ways.

However, I need to warn people again about thinking that Trump will be tried, convicted, and imprisoned before the election, and that this will spare us from having to vote against him or otherwise electorally dispose of him. SCOTUS, to nobody's surprise but still our disappointment, agreed to hear the Trump immunity case in late April (instead of just accepting the DC Circuit's opinion), and while they're likely to rule against him, that still creates another months-long delay. Importantly, though, the Department of Justice has announced that the "no legal proceedings 60 days before the election" rule does NOT apply to Trump, as he has already been indicted and the cases are currently being litigated. If they had decided that the 60-day rule applied, all trial proceedings would have to be frozen in the first week of September, but since not, they can continue into October and November. If the 60-day rule had been upheld, it would have drastically increased the odds of Trump avoiding trial entirely before the election, as few prosecutors would have wanted to proceed when they knew that there was an automatic kill switch built in. But if the DOJ holds to this, Trump could literally be on trial on Election Day itself. Which is good, obviously, but still: it will not be the magic solution. We still have to vote for Biden.

As I have said before, the stakes in 2024 are simple. The criminal trials will not get rid of Trump before the election. There will be another election that is Trump vs. Biden and therefore one of them will win the presidency. If Biden wins and Trump loses, Trump will be out of delay options and will go to prison almost 100% as all his criminal chickens come home to roost. If he wins, we will be fucked for generations to come. Vote accordingly.

[stormberry-12]

faceless // P4: are you ugly? ~ charles leclerc x reader

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader

includes/authors notes: language, lack of equal rights/ gender equality, readers an unknown figure in the races, fem!reader's gender assumed as male, use of "y/n".

Bold Italics are the past.

Normal Italics are thoughts.

summary: "There is a new mysterious driver on the grid. Nobody knows who he is, the only thing we know is that he races for Red Bull with the number 66. Other drivers call him the faceless driver for none have ever seen his face or heard him speak. The faceless driver is a legend in the making and even giving Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen a run for their money…”

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sat alone in a medical room, sure you had wanted to reveal your identity eventually but this was too much to handle all in one day. You could sense the awkwardness of the doctors who had come to perform tests on you, they were polite but curt. A nice nurse offered you some tissues but no one uttered more than 5 words to you, probably still processing it themselves.

You pulled out your phone, there was no doubt Charles knew, he was out of his car even before you were, probably watching televised on hundreds of screens around him. 

He hadn't tried to contact you. 

You didn't blame him.

However, you did have hundreds of notifications from other people and F1 Instagram pages tagging your private account and spreading the news worldwide.

A knock on the door frame made you jump, "You're free to go miss, as long as you have no more neck pain."

"Thank you," you replied, not looking the doctor in the eyes, and climbing out of the bed.

"Take the pain meds twice a day, for your wrist and neck, don't over-exert yourself. Have a good day."

'Have a good day.'

You walked out of the medical center with your belongings, walking to the parking lot, not planning on going back to the Red Bull garage. You couldn't care less what Christian thought about this whole thing and would probably receive a very heavily worded email from him later tonight.

The sky was dark, you must have been in there for a while. The lights from the posts shone down on the many expensive cars that the drivers had driven to the race.

Charles's car was gone.

"Fuck me," you cursed, the tears had returned along with shooting pain up the side of your neck. You called an Uber, waiting in the crisp air and wiping the tears off your face. The world seemed wobbly as you scanned your surroundings, letting reality hit harder and harder every time you thought about the day you just had.

You looked across the parking lot to see Yuki getting into his car. He shot you a small smile and wave. "Fuck is a fun word. And you have a cool helmet by the way,"

"YUKIII!" Pierre screamed, running over to the car drawing both of your attention. "I'm driving,"

"No!"

"Yes."

They argued for about 20 seconds before Yuki hopped in the passenger seat. Pierre then noticed you, giving you a thumbs up and a knowing smile before hopping in the car.

God, word spread fast. 

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

You and Charles settled onto the couch, cozy blankets draped over your laps, snuggled up next to each other. Tonight's choice? The Office. It was a show you both adored, somehow whenever you watched it it always managed to lift your spirit. With a bowl of popcorn between your legs, you hit play, and the familiar theme song filled the room. You nestled into Charles's side, feeling the comforting warmth of his presence.

"Guess what, I have flaws. What are they? Oh, I don't know. I sing in the shower. Sometimes I spend too much time volunteering. Occasionally I'll hit somebody with my car. So sue me." Michael Scott's voice rang from the speakers.

"Oh my god," Charles chuckled. "I can't with this show,"

As the credits rolled, you turned to Charles, a contented smile playing on his lips. "I love nights like this," you whispered.

"Me too," Charles replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Especially when I'm with you."

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

The door to your apartment creaked as you opened it slowly, the hum of the airconditioning filled your ears and and hit you with a cold blast that sent shivers down your spine. You tossed your backpack on the floor and braced yourself for all of the outcomes that could happen next.

'What if he breaks up with me?' Flashed in the back of your mind as one of the possibilities that made your stomach ache. He was sitting on the couch, gaze not leaving the TV, but you could see his shoulders tense as your footsteps entered the room.

"Charles, we need to talk," you said softly, your voice barely audible over the blasting TV and loud voices outside the thin wall. 

He ignored you coldly, grabbing his plate off the side table and walking towards the kitchen. 

"Oh come on, Charles! Jesus, listen to me, I can explain!" you cried, following him around the apartment until he finally turned to face you, his eyes were broken. 

"Explain..."

"Yes-"

"Explain? You've been racing alongside me all this time, pretending to be just another driver, while I've been completely in the dark about who you are! You lied to me!" he spoke, voice cracking and eyes watering.

"Charles I-"

"Like holy shit!" Charles's voice trembled as he continued to word vomit his feelings like he always did. "You were the faceless driver. The one everyone speculated about, and-"

"Charles, I didn't want to lie to you. I just... I never wanted my identity to overshadow my abilities on the track. I wanted to be known for my skill, not my gender or boyfriend's name." You sighed heavily, hands trembling slightly, head pounding.

"You didn't think I deserved to know? We're in a relationship, Y/n. We're supposed to trust each other!" Charles's voice grew louder, his words cutting through the air, making you feel small.

"It was in my contract Charles, I couldn't tell anyone-"

"Why would you sign your life away like that? Red Bull was taking advantage of you but you were too stupid and blinded by all the secrets you had to keep-" he hissed.

"Oh my god! Why are you being such a dick? I came up with half my contract rules, I didn't want to tell anybody!" you held your neck as it ached.

"You told Lando,"

"No, I didn't. I never meant for him to find out!" you yelled, well tried to, as you found it harder and harder to catch your breath. "And do not bring Lando into this, he's your teammate and friend-"

"But he knew before I did! He kept secrets from me too," he complained. "And you had your little waves out on track and everything, don't bring Lando into this my ass. I hate how you realized you could trust him but couldn't think of anyone else in your life that you might be able to trust. Someone who might deserve to know. Was there no one else Y/n? No one else that you spent hours of the day with, that had trusted you with all of his problems? No one that loved you so much and would support you no matter what-"

"Charles-" you choked out, guilt overtaking you.

"This is so wild, I can't believe this day is real," he mumbled and you weren't sure if he was referencing the fact that you were a driver or the fact that you had left him in the dark and damaged the strong relationship you had. Probably both.

You sighed and rubbed a hand over your face, you felt like you were going to puke. You pushed past Charles and shuffled to the bathroom slamming the door behind you. You heard Charles call after you but his words were drowned out by the pounding and ringing in your ears. 

As you leaned over the toilet vomiting you felt your hair being pulled away from your face and a hand placed firmly on your back. You knelt there for a while, his fingertips traced up and down your spine until you pulled away to splash your face with water.

You slid back down to the floor leaning against the sink. You hugged your knees to your chest, not wanting to feel the cold tiles on the back of your legs any longer, as your boyfriend sat across from you quietly. Charles hesitated, his eyes locked with yours. The weight of the words you yelled at each other hung heavy in the air. His foot grazed yours softly and you both looked down at your matching socks that you un-intentionally wore on the same day.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"Yeah. They told me I didn't have a concussion..."

"That's bullshit. And the wrist?"

You looked down at your bandaged hand, "Sprained."

He hummed in acknowledgment, "They did a shit job at that too, can a re-wrap it for you?"

You nodded and he skooted closer, taking your arm gently in his hands. He unwrapped the tenser bandage around your wrist and you winced, Charles whispered an apology, examining your bruises and swelling.

"Jesus, love," he wrapped the bandage around you once more, neat and tidy, securing it tightly. He looked up meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression, fingers still grazing your bandaged wrist. "Lando had more than one secret he was keeping from me,"

"What?" you croaked.

Charles closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face, "He's leaving. His contract was only for a year to try out a new team..."

You stared at Charles in shock before he continued. "He misses Mclaren, and of course Zack misses him. So yeah," Charles laughed but no humor filled his face, "I'll be saying goodbye to yet another awesome teammate that I've considered a brother."

"I'm so sorry Charlie," you whispered, linking your hand with his. You knew how hard it was for him when Carlos left, they didn't speak as much anymore, and you could always see the pain in Charles' eyes whenever Carlos brushed him off with a rushed wave in the paddock.

"God, I've got to stop being so sensitive and annoying," He sighed.

"No, your empathy, understanding, and awareness are some of my favorite things about you," you smiled softly at his blush.

"But I wasn't very understanding to you," he whispered and you felt your heart pinch.

You were about to respond, countering his statement with the truth that you were so terribly sorry and pissed at yourself for everything, when your phone rang pulling you from the moment. Looking down at the screen you stared at Christian Horner's name as it buzzed.

~<>~<>~<>~<>~