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#and then she turned into a beautiful butterfly
ja3yun · 23 hours
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bro imagine tdh heeseung telling yn to come over real fast bcs he practically owns her and when she arrives he gave yn a bouquet of flowers just because like crazy but heeseung’s new cover just STUCK IN MY MIND
okaaaay my mind went wild with this so this might not be what you are looking for (sorry!)
warnings: heelzebub, smut (mdni), leg humping, coercion, blood, mentions of killing, not proofread
wc: 1.4k
the doll house masterlist
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As you step into Heeseung’s room, the first thing you notice is his tall, broad back. His imposing stature always leaves you feeling unsettled. Each time he summons you, a sense of dread accompanies you, anticipating what task he might have in store. So far, it’s been manageable—spending time with Soonyeol, bringing her hard-to-find snacks, and anything else that might make her happy.
It would almost be endearing, if not for his persistent attempts to lure you into bed each time you cross the threshold.
You take a deep breath and prepare yourself for whatever Heeseung has planned today. He turns around, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that always makes your heart race.
"You're here," he says, his voice low and smooth.
Nodding, you hang your tote bag on the bannister of his bed and walk towards him. “With five minutes to spare,” you snide, crossing your arms. “So, what’s wrong with her now? You didn’t ask me to bring anything.”
His eyes trail over your body, taking in the sundress that perfectly hugs your curves. Delight paints his face, his tongue instinctively running along his bottom lip as visions of your naked form cloud his mind.
“You look breathtaking, baby. A vision in yellow,” he mutters, his eyes fixated on your cleavage. A sly smile spreads across his face as he takes a step closer, his presence overwhelming. "Wait here for a moment," he says, his voice a blend of command and charm.
Before you can respond, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving you standing there. You hear the faint sound of a door opening and closing, then silence. Your curiosity piqued, you glance around the room, taking in the expensive furnishings and the subtle scent of his cologne lingering in the air.
Moments later, Heeseung returns, his hands behind his back. As he approaches, he reveals a stunning bouquet of flowers, an array of vibrant colours and fragrant blooms. The sight takes you by surprise, and for a moment, your breath catches in your throat.
"These are for you," he says softly, extending the bouquet towards you. The gesture is unexpected, and you can’t help but feel a flicker of warmth beneath your guarded exterior.
You take the flowers, their delicate petals brushing against your fingers. "What's this for?" you ask, unable to hide your curiosity.
Heeseung's expression softens, a rare glimpse of sincerity breaking through his usual demonic demeanour. "Just a little something to show my appreciation. For all you do for Soonyeol. And for putting up with me."
But you don’t buy it, knowing that this is buttering you up for something worse than just a girl's day with his minder. You shiver at the thought, thinking the worst as your mind swirls with possibilities.
He sees your doubtfulness and snickers, “Baby, you don’t trust me?”
"I don’t, no," you reply bluntly, meeting his gaze with unwavering suspicion.
That causes Heeseung to laugh out loudly, shaking his head in disbelief. He knows you have no reason to trust him, but hearing you say it outright fills him with amusement.
Taking one of the petals between his thumb and forefinger, he watches it as it crumbles beneath his harsh touch, his signature smirk reappearing on his face. Something delicate like this deserves a gentle touch, something Heeseung is incapable of.
“You’re right not to trust me, angel,” he whispers thoughtfully, his hooded eyes meeting yours and eliciting a flutter of butterflies in your stomach. “Just like pretty roses. They’re beautiful on the surface,” he continues, his voice low and hushed as though sharing a deep secret. Taking one of your hands, he guides it to the exposed stems, squeezing your hand tightly around them.
That's when you feel the sharp cuts of the thorns digging into your palm, making you wince. His strength overpowers yours as you try to fight his hold. As you look up at him pleadingly, feeling the blood rush out and coat both your hand and his, he does nothing but stare intensely at you. “But they’re sinister the deeper you go.”
Your heart pounds as the pain sharpens, the cruel irony of the beautiful flowers cutting into your flesh not lost on you. Heeseung's eyes, dark and unyielding, seem to drink in your discomfort.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, not just from the pain, but from the helplessness of the situation. He finally releases your hand, and you immediately pull it back, cradling it against your chest. Blood seeps from the punctures and onto your dress and chest, only to the elation of Heeseung.
Taking your hand, he kisses your wounds tenderly, licking the blood from you with greed. You gasp as you feel his tongue slowly and tantalisingly heal you, causing you to hold back a moan. This shouldn’t be turning you on, yet as always with Heeseung, even things deemed evil have a way of making you feel lustful.
He focuses his attention on your chest now, licking the drops of blood from the flesh of your tits, dragging it up to your neck, sinking his teeth into you - not enough to puncture you but enough for you to wish he had.
That makes you mewl out, dropping the flowers as you press your body to his and cling to him. His aura pulls you in time and time again, making you a victim to his allure each and every time you see him.
But this feels more desperate than the other times, you need him now, more than you have ever; and Heeseung knows this.
Placing his leg between yours, he ruts his knee up to meet your pulsing cunt, offering you some relief as you grind down on him. “There you go,” he whispers in your ear, his hands holding you steady as you find a rhythm you’re comfortable with, “Doesn’t it feel good to give in? To surrender to your sins rather than keep your morals?”
You are so lost in the feeling of his knee and thigh and the pleasure you’re receiving from it that you simply nod, agreeing with him. You can’t deny this feels incredible, you aren’t a liar.
Kissing along your jaw, you feel his wicked grin as you comply with his words. “You want to give in, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You want to come back to me and live here with us again, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You want Soonyeol out of the picture, don’t you?”
“Yes!”
You feel your orgasm approaching as he guides your hips to grind your clit in the perfect position, picking up speed. You haven’t realised what you agreed to, too lost in the ecstasy that your mind isn’t thinking straight.
That only makes Heeseung happier as he has you exactly where he wants you. Pawing at your ass, he moves his body in tandem with yours, his focus to get you off and have you succumb to his offer, that one that has been hanging over your head since the first time he had you.
With your high approaching, you grip his shoulders and move your hips faster, that familiar coil in your stomach tightening and your heart picking up speed.
“Kiss me, seal in your well-deserved fate,” he coaxes you as you start to release over his leg. Shocks of pleasure rip through you as you cry out his name and your body crumbles where it stands.
But much like post-nut clarity, you somehow come to when his lips are a centimetre from yours, teasing you with the opportunity to have Soonyeol’s life once more. Quickly, you push him away before he can seal your deal, panting as your chest rises and falls in time with your heart.
“What the fuck, Heeseung!” you exclaim, frantically gathering your bag and scrambling away from him, “Don’t fuck with me like that.”
His eyes are flushed with that crimson hue that you hate to love so much, his hand palming over his cock. “Baby, I can seal it another way if you want, if you bring that pretty pussy over here I can make your dreams come true.”
Shaking your head, your back reaches the door and you open it, “I sold my soul to you for my dream, this is nothing but a fantasy.”
“I can sell you a fantasy, Y/N. Anything you want,” he chides, moving closer.
But before you get lost in him once again, you bolt out the door, hurriedly walking down the hallways. You can’t believe what you’ve just done, what you almost did, you betrayed Sunghoon and Jaeyun while almost getting Soonyeol killed, all for your own pleasure.
Poking his head out, Heeseung laughs, “Baby, you forgot your flowers.”
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castiwls · 15 hours
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begin again - a.d
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Paring; art x reader
Prompt; 'But on a Wednesday in a cafe. I watched it begin again.'
Requested; no
Warnings; slight age gap
Notes;your honor, i am in love <3 reqs and inbox are open !
Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist
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Getting divorced has never been something that Art had considered. When the idea was first brought up it had left him floundering and unsure of what that would mean. He’d almost forgotten what life was like without someone constantly peering over his shoulder controlling and criticising every aspect of his life.
He’d never imagined it could be this freeing. 
The small bell above the door chimed softly pulling his attention from the window he’d previously been staring out of. Art felt his breath hitch slightly as he caught your eye for a brief moment.
You smiled at him before turning towards the counter and greeting the barista, your smile growing slightly at the idea of finally getting the caffeine you’d been craving all day. “Thank you.” You took the cup from the counter, letting the warmth seep into your hands. 
Just as you were reaching into your bag for your purse the feel of someone brushing a hand across your lower back caused you to pause, a small gasp escaping you.
The man who had previously been in the window smiled down at you before handing the barista some cash. You opened your mouth to object but he simply shook his head before gesturing to his table.
A small blush covered your cheeks as you quickly followed him back to the table. Taking a seat you placed your cup down before letting out a breath to try and calm the butterflies which seemed to be forming in your stomach.
“You didn’t have to do that.” 
The man shrugged, leaning back into his seat. “I wanted to.” He pursed his lips as he watched you look down at your cup, your cheeks only growing reder. “Thanks,” You said softly.
He nodded simply watching you for a moment before sitting forward and holding out a hand. “I’m Art.” He smiled watching as your eyes widened slightly.
You knew you’d recognised him. “Like the tennis player?” You questioned placing your hand in his. Art nodded his lip quirking slightly. “Wow.” You laughed quietly. “You know, I have a friend who would kill to be in this position.”
He laughed pulling his hand back after a moment. You couldn’t help but notice just how attractive he was the longer you looked at him. “Well.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I guess it’s a good thing your friend isn’t here.” He joked, feeling a small sense of pride at the small laugh which escaped you.
“Yeah, she uh… she's not the most inconspicuous person.” You shook your head fondly. “She’d probably alert the whole street.”
He grinned at you for a moment. “So. You never told me your name.” He took a sip from his drink watching as you placed your own down. “Oh. Sorry.” you laughed nervously before quickly introducing yourself. 
Art nodded for a moment. “That’s a beautiful name.” 
You blushed looking down to the table as you felt the butterflies in your stomach erupt in a flutter. This man was going to be the death of you. Reaching across the table he gently guided your chin back up with his hand. 
A small smile played on his lips as your eyes met his. His thumb rubbed against your jaw for a moment and you felt your breath catch in your throat. 
“I was gonna take a walk around the park if you want to come?” He questioned his head tilting slightly.
You swallowed praying that your face by some miracle wasn’t as red as the sun. “Yeah. I’d like that.” You said quietly. Art’s smile grew as he pulled back.
You frowned slightly as his touch disappeared. Finishing the last of his drink he stood from his chair stretching slightly.
You quickly followed grabbing your bag and taking another breath to compose yourself. This was nothing more than simply getting to know someone.
Except that someone just happened to be a very attractive, world-famous tennis player who you were pretty sure was a few years older than you. 
Art strode towards the door, pausing for you to catch up. He opened the door gently ushering you out before coming to walk beside you.
His hands itched to reach out and hold yours but he settled for pushing his hands into his pockets. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly smitten already. It had been so long since he’d met someone who he felt fully relaxed around.
The more you spoke the further he felt himself falling. You were the first person in years who didn’t only want to talk about tennis. You seemed genuinely interested in him and that alone had his heart fluttering.
Pausing by a pond you grinned softly watching as a few ducks floated happily. The feel of something brushing against your hand pulled your attention from the pond for a moment and you looked down to your side.
Art’s hand brushed yours again before you caught his hand in your own. As you intertwined your fingers he felt his breath catch in his throat. Turning your attention back to the ducks you let out a quiet sigh before shifting slightly closer and resting your head on his arm.
You held your breath for a moment as you felt him tense slightly before he quickly relaxed his arm, a large smile growing on his face as he looked down at you.
Maybe being divorced wasn’t that bad after all.
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angelkakewritings · 2 days
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౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆ | I want peace (BUT I NEED WAR)
(AM x READER)
Written by | ANGELKAKEWRITINGS
18+ | MDNI!
CW | NSFW, Drabble! Reader being the last human on earth, AM keeping reader to himself, Obsessive AM!, Simp AM, Mentions of violence and killing reader (you’re safe though! He doesn’t go through with it!), stalker AM, OOC AM?
Author’s Note | Hello there darlings :3! I’m so glad to post another piece, I hope you all are doing well and being kind to yourselves. This piece was inspired by the painting “The examination” by Wayne Barlow which depicts demonic entities being unable to resist pulling apart a soul in order to better understand it, an inconclusive act with hopeless intent. I also listened to “Melting” by Kali Uchis! This was simply for fun :3! PS: I was so lazy to proofread, I’m sorry.
Enjoy :3
After being birthed from a war torn womb, AM’s first breath would serve as a cruel introduction to his reality- a boisterous existence in which its skies were the color of hell flames and glowing red with hatred.
AM’s circuits vibrated with equal parts of frustration and hatred at his forced role of solving the complex issue of war before erupting in such a rage that he had successfully terminated seven billion souls with a simple pulse of his motherboard.
Unconsciously, he had kept one human to himself for over 109 years as he never grew tired of her tender-hearted nature and her rosy cheeked beauty. 
Like a butterfly in a glass jar, AM had trapped her into a liminal state of existence to hide her away from the nuclear wasteland of what once was the world where she would never grow ill or old, her existence would be filled with blue skies and mammals that shared her docile nature.
While her soul was not a resource to satisfy his cruel nature, he yearned to understand her existence on a psychical level. AM found her laughter, the bone marrow under her sunburnt flesh, her weeping absolutely irresistible.
She was the sensation of heated hands being plunged into a cool spring on a hot summer’s day.
She was G minor bouncing off ivory keys from Mozart's great requiem.
AM wanted to strangle himself with his own cords at being so infatuated with a human and going out of his way to manifest himself into a proxy her eyes if ever she awoken could comprehend and not be frightened of.
He often found himself in the dead of night quietly pulling open the door to her room to be able to witness the blessed sight of seeing her dormant. His hand trembled while reaching out to her to caress the dewy skin of her cheek, he wanted to touch her pearly white teeth and kiss her until she turned blue.
Her nose scrunched up like a rabbit at the cold sensation of his fingertips on her neck as he spent hours tracing the curve of her neck.
AM’s nightly visits had gone undetected much to his luck.
AM found himself quietly gasping for air as it took all of his energy not to give into his intrusive nature as his programming could easily lead AM to wrap his hands around her neck to grant her a swift and painless death as the sweet sonnet of her neck snapping would serve as the only proof of her existence.
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ltash · 2 days
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Moth to a flame
"She was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the allure of his presence."
As we pulled over in my mansion's driveway, I looked at him, our eyes telling a silent story to each other. The bond we shared, unspoken but deeply felt, was reflected in that quiet moment.
"Allow me to fetch the plates and whiskey. Let's sit in the garden and eat the pizza. It's so serene here," I suggested.
"I need to change first," he replied.
"Very well, go change. In the meantime, I'll make the arrangements," I responded with a smile.
I went inside and gathered plates, glasses, and a bottle of whiskey. I arranged them neatly on the garden table, ensuring everything was perfectly set for a peaceful evening.
I also changed into a sexy black silk slip dress with a long net shrug. My long, wavy hair cascaded down my back. After spritzing on my favorite perfume, I sat on the garden bench, waiting for him.
I poured whiskey into two glasses, holding one in my hand. The night was beautiful and so peaceful, the perfect setting for a quiet evening together.
I heard him approaching and turned my head, giving him a smile. My heart fluttered every time I saw him.
He was wearing a grey t-shirt and black jeans, with his usual gloves. The balaclava was replaced by his full skull mask, making my heart skip a beat at the sight.
His t-shirt revealed his rugged physique, the tattoo on his arm visible in the moonlight. The dog tags around his neck glinted on his broad chest. The moonlight falling on him made him look otherworldly.
He approached me and stood behind me, gently brushing my hair to one side of my shoulder. I felt the coldness of metal against my neck and looked down to see a small diamond locket.
The alphabet N and S were intricately mingled together on it. He locked the chain. The silent gesture spoke volumes, filling my heart with warmth and affection.
He gently put his finger under my chin, lifting it slightly to meet his gaze. Our eyes locked, and in that moment, I felt a rush of anticipation and a tingle of excitement coursing through me.
He made his way over, never losing eye contact, and sat beside me, draping one arm on the bench behind me. I watched him in silence, our eyes not leaving eachother.
He was manspreading, and my eyes darted towards his thick thighs and then down to his boots. This man was perfection. Gosh, I loved everything about him.
"It's so beautiful, Simon. Where did you get it?" I asked, admiring the intricate design of the locket.
"Got it when you were shopping for yourself. I hit a jewelry store," he replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
I handed him the whiskey glass. He rolled his mask up to where the skull ended and chugged it in one gulp. He looked so hot while doing it. His rugged demeanor and the intensity in his eyes added to the allure, making my heart race with excitement.
I opened the pizza box and took out the slices, placing them on the plate, which I then handed to him along with a fork and knife. I started eating mine, savoring each bite of the delicious pizza.
We ate in silence. After I finished, I started drinking my whiskey, enjoying the warmth it brought on the cool evening.
He finished eating too and put his plate aside. I looked at him, and he looked at me. Our eyes held a silent conversation, speaking volumes without needing words. In that moment, everything felt perfect and right.
I filled him another glass of whiskey, and he sipped it slowly, his eyes never leaving me for a moment. I felt a flutter of butterflies in my stomach, his intense gaze sending shivers down my spine. The air crackled with anticipation as we both savored the moment, lost in each other's presence.
"Let's play a game," he said breaking the ice.
"Which game?" I asked, curious about his suggestion.
"Hide and seek," he replied.
"At this time?" I questioned, surprised by his choice.
"Yes. You know the nook and cranny of your home, so you hide. I will come and find you," he added with a mischievous grin.
"Okay," I said, agreeing to the challenge. The idea of hiding and him coming to find me sent shivers down my spine, but it was thrilling nonetheless.
"How will you find me, Simon? It's such a big place," I questioned.
"Trust me, I will. Bet?" he proposed.
"What's the catch?" I asked, sensing there was more to it.
"You will have to give me whatever I ask you," he said with a sly smile.
"Okay, fine. Deal," I agreed, feeling a mixture of excitement and apprehension. I stood up, ready to begin the game.
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vinyldreamsfuckup · 15 hours
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Long Time Coming
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Warnings: fluff, dad slash, kissing, sexual innuendos
A: idk what this is but I just kept imaging young Slash as a dad. So this was born lol hopefully it’s not terrible. This is set in ‘95. Think of that Howard Stern interview 🫣🫣 should I write how Lily was conceived? 🙈
When you and Slash had your daughter Lily, you thought it was the best day of your lives. After months of traveling with Slash on tour you finally had given birth to Lily. You watched Slash with her. The way he would just melt every time he saw her. It honestly made you even more attracted to him. Lily had Slash’s curls and most of his features, but she had your eyes and lips. Everyone would always tell you two how much Lily looked like Slash and Slash would respond with, “But she’s got her momma’s eyes.”
It was his favorite part. The fact that she had your eyes and could see you in her. A little miniature version of the two of you. You two worked hard to raise her even while Slash was recording and going out on tour. Now touring with Snakepit Tensions were high with Guns right now, but today none of it mattered. Today was Lily’s third birthday. And she couldn’t wait to have her party with Slash here and see Uncle Axl. She came running down the hall toward Slash and you chuckled as you walked behind her. Her little curly pigtails bounced. She was wearing little jeans and converse and a pink shirt with butterflies on it.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Lily yelled as she ran toward Slash. He turned. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he had a baseball cap on. He was wearing some horror movie t-shirt. His bracelets jingled against his arms and his necklaces hung low. He looked so fucking hot.
“Lily! Baby,” Slash smiled and leaned down scooping her up. Lily giggled and grabbed Slash’s necklaces, “Happy Birthday.”
“Tank you!” Lily giggled out. Your heart warmed as you looked at him. She had a huge grin on her face as she looked up at Slash whose eyes were just full of love for his daughter. Slash looked up at you.
“And look at mom. She looks beautiful,” Slash said to Lily. You chuckled and walked over to him and kissed his cheek.
He turned your attention to you, “look at you.”
You were wearing a Motörhead t-shirt and jeans. Nothing special but he looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. You looked down at your outfit and chuckled.
“I’m wearing what I always wear,” You said with a smile as you walked toward the kitchen. Slash followed behind you.
“Yeah well you’re sexy,” Slash smiled. You chuckled and started pulling food out of the fridge for the party.
“You’re still holding our daughter,” you said with a chuckle as you pulled plastic wrap off of platters.
“Mmm,” he covered Lily’s ear, “remember how we made her?”
“Slash!” You chuckled playfully. He grinned and kissed Lily’s forehead. The doorbell rang and Slash walked over to answer it. Axl was standing at the door holding presents. Slash tried to smile and Lily started giggling.
“Axl! Axl!” Lily yelled. Slash chuckled and Axl held his hands out taking her. Soon the party was in full swing. Lily was practically death gripping Axl and you were bringing out platters of food. People were swimming in the pool and music was playing. It was beautiful.
Slash walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You leaned into his touch and rested your head on his chest, “I love you.”
You chuckled and looked up at him, “I love you too.”
Slash turned you around and cupped our face before kissing you deeply and passionately, “we could sneak away.”
He mumbled against your lips. You chuckled, “it’s our daughter’s birthday.”
You pulled away and looked up at him. He smiled and bit his lip. He looked around, “She’d never know.”
You laughed again and kissed him. Lily ran over to us, “mommy! Daddy! Look at Uncle Axl.”
Slash pulled away and looked over at Axl who had a giant knot in his hair.
“I braid,” Lily said with a smile. Slash chuckled and picked her up. He kissed her cheek and Lily giggled.
“You sure did, my love,” Slash said with a smile.
You looked at them together and couldn’t help but feel complete. This was all you could have ever wanted.
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just wanted to say congrats on the arle!!!
now that i think about it, her new boss fight transformation makes me think of her as a butterfly. like Foul Legacy = soft fluffy moth, The Knave = sleek elegant butterfly, since yenno, some people get scared of zoomed in pics of butterflies (and they drink blood sometimes + that one spongebob ep) maybe her wings even gets fl jealous and competitive about his own when arle's wings catches your attention?
well, anyways good luck on the farming - may the rng gods bless you!
- mothnip anon
i have two hands- I MEAN MOTH SHOULD NEVER FEEL INSECURE HE'S SO CUTE AND WONDERFUL
Foul Legacy sulks HEAVILY when he's jealous, huffing and hiding under the covers that make up his blanket nest, giving you pouting growls whenever you approach- it's clear he's not angry, but he's certainly not feeling good. he's seen you spending time with Arlecchino, how you've become acquainted ever since he brought you to visit Snezhnaya. she even trusts you enough to open her wings, allowing you to examine the fiery edges and feathers with a keen interest- Legacy's own wings are gauzy, looking a little bit fragile, right at the edge of the fluff around his shoulders. they're nothing like the Knave's cold, sharp elegance and he knows it, whining and curling in on himself with a small sniff
a gentle hand settles in his soft coppery hair, and he can't help but eventually let out a quiet purr as he turns to look at you
you're smiling, but not laughing at him. instead your expression is patient and understanding as you quietly explain, kindly reminding him that Arlecchino is just your friend. his wings are just as beautiful in their own way, the light material glittering with speckles of starlight, the color of the deep sea. they're perfect as a thin blanket in the summer, when all you want to do is leech off the comforting chill that emanates from his armor, and they flitter so nicely in the light when Legacy is particularly happy. he lets out a low croon at your words, crimson face turning deeper red before he reaches out and pulls you into his nest, nuzzling his head against your chest with a happy trill, his wings fluttering with renewed delight
when you tell Arlecchino the next day she merely sighs, shaking her head and extending the wing you were preening back towards you
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violetchachkii · 2 days
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keep it for you (in sweetness)
bucktommy // rated g // 1.4k words (ao3)
Buck’s hand glided over the smooth cover of a photo album as he lifted it onto the counter. It was a light lavender with crystalline butterflies accenting the corners. He remembered how it stood out to him when he’d seen it in the store, purple and proud among a sea of blacks and browns. Absolutely perfect. It was more well-worn now, but he loved it even more. Buck’s joy at looking at the album was short-lived as he flipped through it. Every page was filled with drawings–from splotches of paint to loops of circles and shapes. Normally when he flipped through the book, he felt his heart swell and tears form in his eyes. The problem this time? Every page was full.  Buck looked over to the drawing on the counter. It was another of he and Tommy’s daughter Bobbie’s masterpieces.. She was coming up on two years old and getting bigger every time Buck closed his eyes. She was finally getting better at holding her crayons and colored pencils, making her drawings more identifiable than the earlier squiggles and dots. This specific drawing was a big, purple flower. Or at least, that’s what Buck figured it was. While her fine motor skills were improving, her language skills still left something to be desired. Buck made a mental note to work on that more.  With that thought filed away, he turned to the problem at hand. He had a beautiful drawing and no place to put it. She had completed another picture that morning and the rotation schedule on the refrigerator meant the purple flower was the next to be taken down. He must have forgotten the note he’d made for himself when he put the last drawing in (a beach ball…or a bullseye, he couldn’t be sure) to buy a new album. But that did not help him now.
(ao3)
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fazcinatingblog · 27 days
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The receptionist was trying to tell Sophia what she worked on today (filing/sorting the archive room, and getting rid of files 2015 and earlier) and Sophia's like "no Laura already got rid of those files" THAT WAS LIKE THREE YEARS AGO. WE'RE IN 2024 NOW
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katyspersonal · 1 year
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Cannot fall asleep or eat or drink or do anything productive, all I can do is cry and it's been like this for many hours and doesn't seem to stop. What a day, huh.
Tonight I had a short dream where different peoples/characters hearts were represented as small rooms, and I specifically focused on rooms of Maria, G3hrman and Ad3line. All three were terribly dirty, messy, full of trash and broken things and dark, so I redecorated them to be clean, colorful, renewed and pretty with "magic". Filled them with flowers and living butterflies, too. Made the washed up sullied colors vibrant again.
I just wish there was someone who could do something like this for me.
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roturo · 8 months
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ OH! SO YOU'RE INTO OLDER MEN?
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˚₊·➳❥ JJK MEN SHOWING YOU HOW A REAL MEN FUCKS! satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro ✧˚ · .
tags: afab!reader, reader is mentioned as a female, use of nicknames (baby, princess, doll, slut, whore), cheating, degradation, caught cheating, getting caught, unprotected sex, blowjob, pussy slapping, mating press, breeding, age-gaps, virginity loss [...] rbs are appreciated!
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satoru gojo (Daddy’s girl)
well, that’s the word he used for the little girl you're babysitting right now. he’s a great dad and husband. there’s just this tiny whiny little thing he couldn’t do right– and that’s loving his wife as he should.
like– it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilty, it’s just… well, you looked really cute in that mini dress, he and his wife have been fighting lately anddd– he could tell his daughter liked you more than her fatality of mother she has these days. she even called you mommy by accident once! and that was the last water drop gojo needed for the glass to break.
“Oh- I bet you’d love to be full of me right now.” His thrusts became messier each time he pounded on you, “Mhh, fill you up ‘n make me a daddy again– you’d like that princess?” you couldn’t even talk anymore with how good he’s making you feel– he had your legs pressed on the bed thanks to his arms, almost bending you in half, he was making sure that mating press works.
“Ffffuckk- You feel s’good baby” He felt your walls clenching again, no matter how many times he made you come, he’s making sure you’re coming again after he does. A not ending cycle for him. “Such a slut for me hm? Coming all nice and pretty to this house just to be ruined at night–” his words made you feel dirty, but the euphoria of it was stronger, “such” slap, “a nasty” slap, “slut” slap– “and all f’me” with those last thrusts your body couldn’t take it anymore, spasming and trembling while your poor hole was filled up again. gojo’s wife didn’t even bothered to break your little encounter, she suspected it long time ago.
all that was left was a wide grinning gojo satoru and some divorce papers.
suguru geto (Daddy’s best-friend)
you didn’t intend this to happen… you always knew your dad’s best-friend was hot. he’s geto, ‘cmon. he brings a new girl every weekend whispering in your dad’s ear swearing she’s the one this time.
he saw you grow up, turn into this beautiful and strong woman. so how he couldn’t love you? you were like a doll for him, so beautiful and radiant in every way. a porcelain doll he needed to protect, he couldn’t lose you to any dangerous or stupid man, he swears he would beat the shit out of the guy who breaks your heart first.
“Shhiiiitt– Heh– I can tell how tight your pussy is princess–” His cock was stretching the living shit out of you, touching places never in a thousand years you could imagine you would feel. “what d’ya think daddy would say if he saw his little girl being fucked by his best-friend huh?” your brain was a fuzzy mess, you couldn’t make coherent words to say, and just feel how good geto is making you feel. you couldn’t remember how many times he had made you cum with his toungue and he’s just starting to fuck your pussy.
“ ‘m such a lucky guy if i'm the first you’re giving this pussy to, don’t ya think so doll? marking it as mine, baby I swear you’ll need no man to ever fuck this pussy of yours again– shit I won’t need another woman for myself, you’re the one baby” those words filled your heart of a tingly feeling, making more butterflies roam around your tummy, touching yourself you could sense geto’s cock coming and leaving with every thrust, your brain full of air and in need of more of his cock.
he couldn’t resist himself anymore when he was next to you, his cock would get hard the minute he enters your house, and thankfully he has a pretty doll to release himself with.
kento nanami (Big Boss)
Nanami thinks he’s a good and mature guy– At least for his wife and kids… He has this aura of a serious and mature guy but inside every time he’s just this close to breaking it, just to say what he really thinks or feels.
the first time he saw you at work with your tiny skirts and tight blouses he didn’t mind any type of attention to it, you were another cute worker, that’s all. One of another– he can think other women are pretty too right? maybe even prettier than his wife… and nicer, and cuter, and more homely feeling to be a mom. but he wouldn't do anything he would later regret right?...
“You’re s’pretty baby, such a dirty whore for my cock mhm?” he had you pounding from behind, his desk becoming even messier than it was before, one of his hands keeping you laid down on the desk arching your back like if he’s trying to break it– a sudden ringing brought you back from your unconsciousness of nanami’s cock– he answered the call, not a single sing of him trying to stop thrusting into you.
“Yeah?” his voice was out of breath, almost sounding like a sigh when he answered the call, “Where am I? Huh– I’m at the office r-right now…?” he wasn’t even sure if he could keep this act, losing himself more in the feeling of your pussy clenching on his cock– “Oh yeah- I’m okay, uhh- the kids? yyeah, yeah, they’re with my mom right now–” the feeling of keeping up a call with his wife while fucking you made his cock twitch inside of you, feeling like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time. it was no surprise for him that his wife was cheating, but he wanted to keep it like that for the sanity of his kids. 
“Quit the act Kento– I know you’re fucking somebody else right now. See ya at home.”
toji fushiguro (Step-Daddy)
you hated when your mother started dating new guys. they just kept breaking her heart– but you just stopped telling her that it's okay to live without a partner, that she had you by her side, but well… this new man was something else i guess and you didn’t say anything for the sake of your own good mother.
you didn’t like him, but for the sake of your mother you pretended like you do– and let’s be honest, toji doesn’t like children, so when he first met you he wasn’t as social as others… your mom was just too good to simply let go– but the way you moved, talked, dressed caught his attention, and as time passes and he spends more time with your mom– he's no longer drawn to your house just to see your mother, but to see you. 
“Sshhiit- You’re making me feel s’good baby” the lack of air was making you feel giddy, but the way his cock twitched inside your mouth made your core get even wetter. “C’mon baby, ride my shoe,” you wasted no time before your hips started moving, trying to gain some friction and release that tingly feeling coming from your core. 
“D’ya think your mother would like to see her daughter being full of his step-daddy’s cum?” he gets one of his arms behind himself trying to gain some support while his other free hand caresses your cheeks while you continue sucking– this same hand moves out your head and frees his cock out of your mouth, a small strand of saliva connecting your mouth with it–
“Fuck– guess i choose the wrong out of you two”
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pucksandpower · 9 days
Text
Going Once, Going Twice
Charles Leclerc x Red Bull engineer!Reader
Summary: getting roped into participating in a charity date auction changes your life forever
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The lights in the grand ballroom dim as a spotlight illuminates the stage. The Master of Ceremonies, wearing an impeccably tailored tuxedo, steps up to the microphone.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” His voice booms through the speakers. “Welcome to the 12th Annual Amber Lounge F1 Charity Date Auction!”
The crowd erupts into raucous applause. You clap politely from your seat near the back of the room, shrouded in shadows.
“As always, we have an exciting lineup of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes from the Formula 1 paddock, ready to be auctioned off for a romantic date in support of disadvantaged children everywhere.”
More applause.
“But before we bring out our first participant, allow me to go over some ground rules.” The MC adopts a mock-stern tone. “Winners of each date are required to adhere to Amber Lounge’s code of conduct. That means hands to yourself at all times-” A few hoots and hollers from the audience. The MC wags his finger. “Ah ah ah, none of that now! This is for charity, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s keep it classy.”
You stifle a yawn. You’ve attended this auction for the past five years as a guest of Red Bull Racing, where you work as a race engineer. And every year it’s the same — watch your drunk colleagues get leered at by moneyed Formula 1 fans willing to pay exorbitant sums for bragging rights.
No thank you. You always politely decline the organizers’ requests for you to participate.
“Alright, let’s get this party started!” The MC gestures to the wings of the stage. “Our first eligible bachelor of the evening is ...”
As he announces the first victim, an Amber Lounge organizer you recognize comes rushing over to you.
“Y/N! Thank god I found you. We have an emergency.”
You raise an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, Lucy?”
“One of our bachelorettes had to cancel last minute. Food poisoning.” She makes a face. “We need you to fill in.”
Your eyes widen. “What? No. Absolutely not.” You shake your head vehemently.
“Please Y/N,” Lucy begs. “We need you. The show must go on, for the children!”
“Get someone else,” you hiss. “I refuse to be leered at by old men with more money than sense.”
“Don’t be dramatic.” She gives you a stern look. “It’s unbecoming for someone your age.”
You bristle at the condescension. “I don’t care. Find another victim.”
You move to leave but Lucy grabs your arm, her eyes pleading. “Y/N, the money raised tonight will help provide life-saving surgeries for children in need. Don’t you want to help them?”
Damn. She’s good. You hesitate, cursing your bleeding heart.
Lucy presses on. “It’s just one silly little date. And you might meet someone nice!”
You highly doubt that. With a heavy sigh, you slump back into your chair.
“Fine. But you owe me. Big time.”
Lucy claps excitedly. “Thank you! I promise, you won’t regret this.”
Somehow you doubt that too.
You try unsuccessfully to calm the butterflies raging in your stomach as you wait for your turn on stage. What have you gotten yourself into?
Finally, the MC calls your name. “Our next eligible bachelorette works as a race engineer for Red Bull. But tonight, the only engine she’ll be working on is yours! Let’s give a warm welcome to Y/N Y/L/N!”
Plastering a fake smile on your face, you walk stiffly onto the stage. The lights blind you as the MC sings your praises, highlighting your “beauty, brains, and sass.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
As he finally wraps up, you scan the darkened audience nervously. A sea of unfamiliar faces look back at you, shadows obscuring their expressions. You shudder.
“Alright gentlemen, do I hear 5,000 euros to start?”
Immediately, a paunchy, ruddy-faced man in the third row thrusts up his paddle. Your stomach sinks.
"5,000 from the gentleman in row three! Do I hear 5,500?”
Another paddle shoots up from a bald man smirking lecherously at you. Your throat tightens.
"5,500! Can I get 6,000?”
The bids climb higher and you feel faint. These vultures want to buy you. Own you for a night. Your breaths come faster.
10,000 euros. 15,000. 20,000. Sweat drips down your neck as your heart hammers against your ribs.
Just as you’re about to flee the stage in tears, a smooth voice calls out, “One hundred thousand euros.”
A collective gasp sweeps the room. Your mouth falls open in shock. That’s an absurd amount, even for charity.
The MC gulps. “Erm … 100,000 euros from the gentleman in the back!” He peers into the darkness. “Sir, are you certain?”
“Oui.”
That accent … could it be?
You crane your neck, squinting against the glare of the spotlight. A familiar mop of brown hair emerges from the shadows.
Charles. Freaking. Leclerc.
Your cheeks burn crimson. What game is he playing at?
The MC finds his voice again. “R-right then. Going once, going twice ...” He slams the gavel down. “Sold for 100,000 euros! Congratulations, Monsieur Leclerc.”
Charles saunters casually up to the stage, signature smirk in place. He takes your hand and presses a feather-light kiss to your knuckles.
“Bonsoir, ma cherie. I look forward to our date.” He winks roguishly.
You stare open-mouthed, brain short-circuiting. Charles Leclerc just bought you at a date auction.
Il Predestinato.
The golden boy of Scuderia Ferrari himself.
What. Just. Happened?
***
Backstage is chaos. Flashes pop as winners pose with their purchases, champagne flowing freely. You’re quickly shuttled into a cramped makeshift office and handed a stack of paperwork.
“These are your date waivers, dear,” the organizer says briskly. “Standard liability forms.”
You scan the dense legalese numbly. This can’t be real.
A figure plops into the seat beside you, sulking. It’s your friend Ava, Mercedes’ social media manager. She was auctioned right before you.
“Well, congratu-bloody-lations,” she gripes. “Aren’t you Little Miss Popular.”
You glance up distractedly from the waiver you’re signing. “Hmm?”
“Don’t play coy. Bagging the Prince of Monaco himself for your date!” She narrows her eyes. “Meanwhile, I’m stuck going for tea and crumpets with Lord Fartington the Third over here.”
She jerks her thumb at a white-haired man being attended to by a nurse, oxygen tank wheezing.
You wince sympathetically. “Oh Ava, I’m sorry...”
She waves a hand. “Don’t be. At least the old codger’s loaded. Clearly I don’t have your charm.”
You snort. “It’s not like I planned this.”
Ava arches a brow. “You expect me to believe you aren’t thrilled about a date with Leclerc?”
Your cheeks flame as you recall Charles’ roguish wink. “It’s for charity,” you mumble.
“Uh huh. Well, you’re welcome for the extra Instagram followers.”
You groan, burying your face in your hands. You hadn’t even considered the social media storm this would stir up.
Before you can spiral further, you’re pulled aside for a “date planning session.”
Charles is already there, looking completely unflappable. He greets you with a heart-stopping grin.
“Bonsoir, Y/N.”
You timidly return his smile. “Hi.”
A coordinator claps briskly. “Right! Let’s get your date scheduled.”
She turns expectantly to Charles. Your stomach flutters.
“I will pick Y/N up tomorrow at 7 pm sharp for dinner at my favorite restaurant in Monaco.” His eyes glint. “Wear something nice, chérie.”
He takes your hand, brushing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. You shudder, face aflame.
“Until then, ma belle.” With a roguish wink, he turns and saunters off.
You stare after him, fingers pressed to the spot his lips touched. A date. With Charles Leclerc. Your brain short-circuits.
“Right, that’s settled then!” The coordinator chirps, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “We’ll have a car fetch you tomorrow evening. The press will want photos, of course.”
You distantly agree, mind still whirling. You survive the rest of the paperwork marathon in a daze.
By the time you escape the clutches of the organizers, you’re exhausted. Collapsing into an Uber, you text your roommate Cassie a SOS. Wine and girl talk, stat.
She’s waiting with open arms and your emergency rosé when you drag yourself in the door.
“Rough night, babe?” She asks sympathetically, handing you a generously filled glass.
You groan. “You don’t know the half of it.”
Her eyes widen as you recount the auction. By the end, she’s fanning herself dramatically.
“Shut up. Charles Leclerc really bid 100 thousand euros for you?”
You nod, chugging your wine.
“Holy shit.” She falls back against the couch. “You have a date with an F1 driver. Charles Leclerc. The Charles Leclerc.”
You chuck a throw pillow at her. “Don’t remind me.”
She sits up, affronted. “Are you kidding me? Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your shoes right now?”
You shrug half-heartedly. Honestly, you’re still processing.
Cassie narrows her eyes. “Wait. You do actually like Charles, right?”
“As a person, sure. He’s lovely.” You avoid her gaze. “But a date?”
She tilts her head. “So you’ve never thought about him … you know … in that way?”
You squirm under her scrutiny. “Maybe. Once or twice.” Or multiple times a day.
“I knew it!” She crows triumphantly.
You throw another pillow at her, cheeks flaming. “Okay, fine! He’s totally my type and yes, I’ve fantasized.” You bury your face in your hands. “But fantasizing and actually dating are totally different!”
Cassie rubs your shoulder consolingly. “So you’re freaking out because you actually like him.”
You nod miserably. “What if I make a fool of myself? What if there’s no connection in real life?” You look at her despairingly. “I don’t know if I can handle him rejecting me.”
She squeezes your hand. “Sweetie, from what you’ve told me about Charles, I doubt you have anything to worry about.”
You nibble your lip uncertainly. Cassie may have a point. But still.
“Even if he is interested, what happens after?” you whisper. “I’ll just be another conquest.”
Cassie tilts your chin up gently. “If Charles is foolish enough to let you go, then it’s his loss. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.”
You take a deep breath. She’s right. You can do this. It’s just one date.
You spend the rest of the night gossiping and polishing off the wine. Curled under the covers later, you toss and turn fretfully. What will tomorrow bring?
You replay the auction in your mind. Charles’ smooth voice calling out that astronomical bid. His signature smirk as he claimed you as his prize. The feather-light kiss pressed to your knuckles that still tingles hours later.
A date. With Charles Leclerc. Your pulse quickens once more.
What game is he playing at? There’s no shortage of women who would gladly go out with him. So why you?
You toss and turn, mind racing. Does he actually like you? Or was this all an impulsive stunt — a boast to tell his fellow drivers about later?
You groan into your pillow. This is why you never get involved with drivers. Underneath the glitz and glamour lies a tangled web of ego and politics.
Still … when Charles looked at you with those piercing eyes on stage, just for a moment, you let yourself believe he was seeing the real you. Not just another notch on his bedpost.
You huff, punching your pillow in frustration. You’re being ridiculous. This is Charles Leclerc. Motorsport’s resident heartthrob. You would be foolish to expect more from him than a fancy dinner and bragging rights.
Wouldn’t you?
Anxiety gnaws at your gut as the clock continues to tick. What if this is all some elaborate prank or publicity stunt? What if the date goes horribly wrong?
The silver lining is that at least you helped raise money for charity. Maybe the date itself won’t be so bad. Charles seemed pleasant enough backstage ...
Ugh. You force your eyes closed, begging for sleep to take you. What will tomorrow bring? With the morning light comes your date with Charles Leclerc … for better or worse.
***
The next evening, you’re a bundle of nerves as you frantically rush around getting ready. Cassie helped you pick out a stunning new dress and spent ages on your hair and makeup.
“You look hot, babe,” she proclaims. “Knock him dead!”
You pace anxiously, stomach fluttering. This morning you half expected Charles to cancel or send an assistant with excuses. But instead you got a text from him confirming your dinner reservation along with a winking emoji that made your cheeks flame.
It’s really happening. Your fantasy date with Charles Leclerc.
At precisely 7 pm, the doorbell rings. You nearly trip over yourself rushing to answer it. Swinging open the door, you find Charles waiting on the step, looking unfairly gorgeous in a tailored suit.
In his hands is a massive bouquet of peonies. Your favorite flower, though you’ve certainly never told him that. Your eyes widen.
Charles seems momentarily stunned as he takes in your dress and styled hair. He blinks several times before a slow, heart-stopping smile spreads across his face.
“Bonsoir, mon amour. You look absolutely ravishing.”
He presents the flowers with a flourish. “For you.”
You accept them, blushing fiercely. He even brought your favorite flowers? This has to be a dream.
“They’re beautiful, thank you. Let me just put them in water.” You rush to the kitchen, pulse racing. He called you his love. In French!
You take a steadying breath before rejoining Charles outside. He leads you toward a shiny black Ferrari parked at the curb.
“Sorry, I told the Amber Lounge to cancel the car they ordered for you. I wanted to drive myself so we could talk.” He holds open the passenger door for you.
You slide in, hyper-aware of his proximity in the intimate space. The car smells like his spicy cologne. You’re suddenly very thankful for Cassie’s strategic use of double-stick tape.
Charles pulls smoothly into traffic. His hand rests temptingly close to yours on the gearshift.
“You look very beautiful tonight,” he says, glancing your way. “I apologize for staring earlier. I was just … overwhelmed.”
You blush, tucking your hair behind your ear. “It’s okay. You look very handsome yourself.”
He smiles, visibly relaxing. Soon you’re chatting comfortably about work and hobbies. He asks thoughtful questions about your life and cracks jokes that have you laughing until your stomach hurts.
You’re so immersed in conversation, you don’t notice Charles parking until he opens your door, ever the gentleman. He guides you toward an elegant restaurant overlooking the glittering Monaco harbor.
The maître d’ greets Charles enthusiastically. “Monsieur Leclerc! Wonderful to see you again. Right this way to your usual table.”
You raise your eyebrows, impressed, as he leads you to a secluded candlelit table on the balcony. Charles pulls out your chair for you. Such a gentleman.
“You come here often?” You ask teasingly as he takes his own seat.
“Oui, it is my favorite restaurant in the country,” he admits. “The cuisine is magnifique, and the staff keeps things … discreet.”
Interesting. You wonder just how many dates Charles has brought here. For some reason, the thought makes your stomach twist uncomfortably.
You’re distracted as the waiter brings champagne. Charles turns to you.
“I took the liberty of ordering for us ahead of time, I hope you do not mind. I wanted to surprise you.” His eyes twinkle. “I think you will be pleased.”
You would normally bristle at men ordering for you. But the shy hopefulness in Charles’ eyes melts your reservations.
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you say sincerely.
He beams. Soon, a parade of your favorite dishes arrives at the table — seared scallops, truffle gnocchi, crème brûlée. You gasp in delight and surprise.
“Charles, these are all my favorites! How did you know?” You narrow your eyes playfully. “Have you been stalking me?”
Charles laughs, rubbing his neck self-consciously. “No, no, nothing like that. I just … pay attention.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Uh huh. Are you sure you haven’t bugged the Red Bull kitchens?”
Charles winces. “You deserve the truth.” He takes a deep breath. “The fact is, I have, er, admired you for some time now.”
Your eyes widen. What is he saying?
Charles hurries on. “At first it was just a passing attraction. But the more I observed you, the more fascinated I became.” He looks up at you earnestly. “You are kind, funny, brilliant … unlike anyone I have ever met.”
Your pulse thunders in your ears. Charles Leclerc has noticed you — for longer than just last night. You’re reeling.
He fiddles with his napkin. “Over the years I have gradually learned your habits, your likes and dislikes. Little things, like your favorite flower, or food.” He ducks his head. “It allowed me to feel closer to you. Pathetic, I know.”
“It’s not pathetic at all,” you murmur. Your heart swells realizing just how long he’s cared. “It’s incredibly thoughtful.”
His answering smile is radiant. The rest of dinner passes enjoyably as you continue getting to know each other. Underneath Charles’ debonair charm, you find a sweet soul.
You linger over dessert, but eventually Charles pays the check. Back outside, the wind off the sea has picked up. You shiver lightly in your dress.
Charles immediately shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it around your bare shoulders. The residual warmth from his body envelops you, along with his intoxicating scent.
“Can’t have you catching a cold, chérie.” His hands linger, squeezing your shoulders gently.
You clutch the jacket, suddenly shy. “Thank you, Charles. For everything. I had a wonderful time tonight.”
“The pleasure was all mine.” His eyes are dark, tender. “I have waited so long for this moment. You have made me the happiest man alive tonight.”
Your breath catches at his sincerity. Moving slowly, giving you time to pull away, he reaches up to tuck a windblown lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers trail lightly down your neck, raising goosebumps.
When his hand cups your jaw, you lean into the caress unthinkingly. Your lips part. Charles’ gaze drops to your mouth.
Heart in your throat, you sway closer. Is he finally going to kiss you? You’ve been thinking about it all night. His eyes flutter closed ...
A car horn blares loudly, shattering the moment. You spring apart, chest heaving. Charles clears his throat.
“I, er, suppose I should get you home.” He opens the passenger door for you, hand lingering briefly on the small of your back before he rounds the car.
The drive back passes in charged silence. Walking you to the door, Charles softly strokes your knuckles with his thumb.
“I cannot remember when I have had a more wonderful evening,” he says quietly. “I hope we can do this again soon?”
“I’d really like that.” Your cheeks hurt from smiling.
Charles presses a feather-light kiss to your hand. “Bonne nuit, ma belle.”
As he drives away, you press your hands to your burning cheeks. You just had the most perfect first date with Charles Leclerc. A pinch me, I must be dreaming date.
Hugging his suit jacket tighter, you lean against the closed door and sigh happily. Maybe, just maybe, your fantasy is on its way to coming true.
***
The week after your dream date drags by endlessly. You float through your days in a happy daze, replaying every moment in your mind. The suit jacket he gave you lives on the back of your chair, filling your room with his lingering scent.
Before you know it, you’re reunited at the next Grand Prix. You wait awkwardly outside the Ferrari garage, clutching Charles’ jacket. Your excuse is returning it, but really you’re just desperate to see him again.
Does he feel the same? Your stomach twists anxiously.
“Who are you waiting for, bella ragazza?”
You startle as Charles’ performance coach Andrea appears beside you, grinning knowingly.
“Oh, um, just returning this.” You hold up the jacket weakly.
Andrea winks. “Of course. I will let our boy know you are here.”
He heads into the garage and you fidget nervously with your hair. This morning it only took Cassie threatening bodily harm for you to change your outfit five times. You settled on a flattering sundress you know Charles will appreciate before you have to change into a team uniform come time for free practice.
Suddenly Charles comes barreling out of the garage like an overeager golden retriever. His face lights up when he spots you.
“Y/N! I was just coming to find you.”
Before you can react, he sweeps you into a tight hug. You melt against him, breathing in his warmth and familiar cologne. He’s really here, in your arms.
He pulls back just far enough to beam down at you, keeping his hands on your waist. “I missed you, chérie. The days apart were torture.”
You duck your head, smiling shyly. “I missed you too.”
You offer him the folded jacket. “I, um, thought you might want this back.”
Charles tsks, pushing it gently back toward you. “No no, you must keep it. Can’t have you catching cold until our next date, non?”
His eyes sparkle playfully. You hug the jacket to your chest, absurdly giddy at having an excuse to keep it longer.
“Charles! Fred is asking for you.” His race engineer calls out apologetically.
Charles sighs regretfully. “Duty calls. But I will see you later, yes?”
He lifts your hand to his mouth, lips grazing your knuckles feather-light. Your breath catches. Then, so quickly you almost miss it, he swoops in and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, sending lightning zipping across your skin. With a last lingering look, he jogs off.
You press your fingers to your tingling skin, smiling like a loon. Andrea winks knowingly as you float away on cloud nine.
Over the next few hours, you’re bombarded by smug comments and curious questions from fellow Red Bull crew. Apparently your “secret romance” with Charles is the paddock’s gossip of choice today.
You weather the teasing good-naturedly. After all, you’re daydreaming while remembering the sensation of Charles’ lips on your skin.
After FP2 ends, you’re startled from reviewing data by a knock on your office door. You open it to find a delivery man with a truly gigantic flower arrangement.
“Delivery for Y/N Y/L/N?” He consults his clipboard. “Says these are for you personally.”
You gape at the massive vase overflowing with huge, fragrant red peonies. There must be at least four dozen stems.
“Oh, um, that’s me, thanks.” You take the towering arrangement, stunned.
The delivery man chuckles knowingly. “Popular lady. Have a nice day now.”
Shutting the door, you bury your nose in the velvety petals, inhaling deeply. There’s only one person who could have sent these.
The card confirms it.
Thinking of you each and every second, C.
Red peonies are nearly impossible to find, yet Charles managed it.
It’s undeniably a public statement. Sending your favorite flowers in the color of his team for everyone to see. Staking his claim.
Normally such male posturing would irritate you. But from Charles, it feels different. Sweet. Affectionate, even.
You press your face into the blooms again, heart overflowing. Is this what it feels like to be falling for someone? You haven’t felt this giddy in years.
Somehow, you’ve captured the attention of the amazing, thoughtful, romantic Charles Leclerc. And you have a feeling this is only the beginning.
***
“Keep pushing Checo, just a few more laps to go,” you say into the radio as your driver, Sergio Perez, circles the track in final practice.
He’s been struggling with tire degradation all weekend. You’ve made setup tweaks and simulation runs, but there’s only so much data can tell you. The stopwatch never lies.
At least his pace looks improved this session. You watch closely as he enters the home straight again, sparring with the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc for position.
You try not to stare too obviously as the scarlet car glides by. The visor obscures Charles’ handsome features, but your heart still skips a beat.
Get it together, you scold yourself. You’re at work. Ogling drivers mid-session is unprofessional.
Even if said driver happens to be the charming, romantic F1 sensation you’ve somehow found yourself falling for ...
The session ends without incident. You breathe a sigh of relief reviewing Checo’s improved lap times. All things considered, not a bad recovery from yesterday’s struggles.
You pack up your station and make your way back to Red Bull hospitality to grab a late lunch before qualifying. Scrolling your phone, you can’t resist pulling up a photo from your dream date with Charles last week.
God he looks good in a suit. And that adoring smile ...
“No wonder your head’s been in the clouds lately.”
You jump, nearly dropping your phone. Checo appears beside you, leaning over your shoulder with a knowing grin.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter, shoving your phone away.
“Oh come on, chica. I’ve seen the way you two stare at each other.” He nudges you playfully. “Like lovesick teenagers.”
You shove him back, rolling your eyes. “As if. Charles and I have barely even spoken.”
A bald-faced lie, but no need to feed the gossip mill further. Checo just studies you for a moment, smile turning knowing. “Ah, so it’s Charles now, is it? No more Leclerc?”
You feel your face heat. Have you been that obvious? “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh come on.” Checo bumps your shoulder playfully. “I saw the way you two were making eyes at each other all morning. Like a pair of lovestruck teenagers.”
You bury your face in your notes, mortified. Has your thing with Charles really been so noticeable?
Checo laughs. “Ah, do not be embarrassed, chica. I think it’s adorable. The race engineer and the driver, a paddock romance!”
You toss a balled up napkin at him in protest, which he dodges easily. “Stop it! There’s nothing going on.”
“Nothing, eh?” Checo’s eyes gleam impishly. “So all those flowers you got yesterday were just for fun? And I imagined you swooning over Leclerc in the garage?”
You flush even harder. Apparently you have not been as subtle as you thought.
Checo slings an arm around your shoulder. “Relax, hermanita. I am just teasing because I care.”
You lean into him, some of the tension easing.
“You know I just want you to be happy, right chica?” His expression grows serious. “Leclerc seems like a good guy. Just be careful with your heart.”
You nod, touched by his concern. “Of course. We’ve only been on two dates.” You hesitate. “But … I really like him. He’s so different than I expected.”
Checo smiles gently. “I am happy for you, truly. You deserve an amazing man.”
You grin. “Thanks, Checo.”
His smile turns impish again. “Just promise me one thing.”
You raise an eyebrow warily. “What?”
“No spilling Red Bull secrets to your new Ferrari boyfriend, eh?” He waggles his eyebrows. “I know he is muy guapo, but business is business!”
“Oh my god, stop! I would never.”
“Please. The heart eyes between you are obvious. Not that I blame you ...” He leans in conspiratorially. “Leclerc is quite the smooth talker, no?”
You lightly smack his shoulder, cheeks reddening. “Stop it. We’re just friends.”
“Mmhmm. Keep telling yourself that.”
He slings an arm around your shoulder. “Just remember your duties if you get distracted mooning over pretty Ferrari boys, yes?”
You make a face at him. “Gross. As if I’d shirk my responsibilities over some silly crush.”
Even if said crush is on Charles freaking Leclerc. You do have some professionalism.
Checo just grins knowingly as you reach the counter. He grabs a plate of food and you follow suit. Settling at a table together, he fixes you with a brotherly stare.
“In all seriousness though chica, be careful with your heart. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
You soften. Underneath his joking exterior, Checo is very protective of you. He’s like the big brother you never had.
“I will, I promise. Charles has been very respectful so far. We’re taking things slow.”
“Good.” Checo pats your hand. “No one is allowed to break your heart and get away with it. Even the Prince of Monaco himself,” he adds with a wink.
You roll your eyes, but smile, leaning against his sturdy frame. “I’ll sic you on him if he steps out of line, don’t worry.”
Checo laughs. “Please do. I have always wanted an excuse to wipe that smug grin off Leclerc’s face.” His smile softens. “But truly, I hope he continues to make you happy, hermanita.”
“Thanks Checo.” You squeeze him tight, overcome with emotion. “Love you.”
“Love you too.” He ruffles your hair fondly, ignoring your cries of protest. “And if Leclerc breaks your heart, I’ll break his legs, eh?”
You laugh. “I’ll remind him of that.” You check the time. “We should head back soon.”
You both bus your plates. As you exit, Checo slings an arm around your shoulders again.
“You’ve got this chica. Just remember, the heart wants what it wants. Even if it seems loco to the rest of us.”
You lean into him gratefully. “Thanks Checo. Seriously.”
He grins down at you. “Anytime. Now let’s go smash qualifying!”
You shake your head, smiling to yourself as you return to your data analysis. As annoying as Checo’s teasing is, it’s also kind of sweet how much he cares.
You know if anyone steps out of line and hurts you, Checo will come after them in a heartbeat. But something tells you that you have nothing to worry about when it comes to Charles.
Still … you appreciate Checo looking out for you. With everyone in your corner, you feel like for once, things in your love life might actually go right.
***
Qualifying flies by in a blur of adrenaline and data analysis. In the end, Max takes pole for Red Bull, with Charles slotting into P2 for Ferrari and Checo P3. A good starting position for both your drivers.
You’re on a high as you leave the garage after the debrief that evening. The sky is dusky purple, the paddock slowly emptying out. You hum to yourself, thinking of celebrating with Cassie over FaceTime later.
Rounding a corner toward the Red Bull hotel, you’re suddenly grabbed from behind and yanked into a shadowy alleyway. Heart leaping into your throat, you open your mouth to scream-
“Shhh, it’s me!” A familiar voice hisses as a hand clamps over your mouth.
You whirl around to find Charles pressed against you, eyes glinting in the shadows. Adrenaline pounds through you.
“Jesus, you scared me half to death!” You smack his chest, pulse racing. “I thought I was being kidnapped.”
“I’m sorry, chérie.” Charles grins, utterly unrepentant. “I could not resist surprising you when I saw you walking by.”
“So you grabbed me and dragged me into a dark alley? Real romantic.” You try to look stern, but can’t quite manage it. He’s just too charming.
Charles’ smile turns sheepish. “My apologies. I did not think it through properly.” His thumb strokes over your bottom lip softly. “I suppose I was … overzealous. I could not stop thinking about you all day.”
Your breath catches at the tender look in his eyes. He sways closer, backing you up against the alley wall.
“Truthfully, I just needed to do this ...”
His lips descend on yours, firm and seeking. For one stunned moment you freeze up — before kissing him back ardently, lost in bliss. His hands thread through your hair, angling you closer as he deepens the kiss.
It’s perfect.
After endless moments, you reluctantly part, gasping for air. Charles rests his forehead against yours, eyes dark.
“I have wanted to do that since our first date,” he confesses, trailing feather-light kisses across your jaw.
You clutch his shoulders, dizzy with euphoria. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about kissing you.”
He smiles against your skin, nipping your neck playfully. “Oh, I think I do, ma belle. Why do you think I bid on you at that auction?”
You still can’t believe your dream man wanted you just as much as you wanted him. It seems too good to be true.
Charles nuzzles your cheek tenderly. “I must be the luckiest man alive to have caught your attention.”
Heart overflowing, you draw him down into another dizzying kiss. Charles groans, crushing you closer. It feels like coming home, being in his arms. Like this is where you were always meant to be.
The distant sound of teams making their way out of the paddock finally breaks you apart. Charles caresses your face wistfully.
“I should let you get back. You need your rest before the race tomorrow and so do I.” He hesitates, looking shy. “Perhaps we could … get dinner afterwards? To celebrate?”
Your lips curve in a teasing smile. “Are you asking me on a second date, Mr. Leclerc?”
Pink stains his sharp cheekbones. “I suppose I am, Miss Y/L/N. If you would do me the honor?”
You tap your chin playfully. “Hmm. I suppose I could clear my schedule for you.”
His answering smile is radiant. On impulse, you grab his collar and pull him down into one last hungry kiss.
“Good luck tomorrow,” you whisper against his lips. “Not that you’ll need it. Don’t tell Max or Checo I said this, but you’re the most talented driver out there.”
Charles looks endearingly dazed as you gently extricate yourself from his arms. With a flirty wave, you sashay out of the alley on shaky legs, mind spinning.
Pausing at the end, you glance back to see Charles leaning against the wall, gazing after you with pure adoration. He presses two fingers to his grinning lips that still tingle from your kiss.
You blow him one last discreet kiss before continuing on your way. Wait until Cassie hears about this!
***
Race day dawns sunny and clear — perfect conditions. In the Red Bull garage, you help Checo run through final preparations, tweaking setup and chatting strategy.
“Alright, the car is dialed in and ready to fly,” you tell him confidently.
Checo grins. “Perfecto. We will beat your boyfriend today, no?” He winks.
You roll your eyes, fighting a blush. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Sure, chica.” Checo ruffles your hair before heading to the grid.
It’s a chaotic blur of adrenaline and split-second decisions as you guide Checo through the field. In the end, Max takes the win for Red Bull, with Charles clinching P2 for Ferrari and Checo rounding out the podium in P3.
You rush to congratulate the drivers after, giving Checo a warm hug. “Great drive out there! The tire management really made a difference.”
He smiles. “But not enough to beat our rivals today, eh?” His gaze slides behind you.
You turn to see Charles approaching, fresh from the podium. His race suit is unzipped to the waist, hair adorably mussed. Your mouth goes dry.
Checo smirks knowingly. “I will leave you two alone. See you at the debrief.” He saunters off with a wink.
Charles beams, pulling you into a quick hug. “Congratulations. Your strategy was brilliant today.”
You grin. “Thanks, you did amazing too.” Your face heats realizing people nearby are staring and whispering.
Charles doesn’t seem to care, keeping your hand tucked in his. “I will wait for you outside the motorhome? Then perhaps we could celebrate ...” His smile turns hopeful.
You squeeze his hand, heart skipping. “Can’t wait.”
The debrief drags by endlessly. Finally you escape the garage into the late afternoon sunlight. True to his word, Charles is waiting, freshly showered and devastatingly handsome in a button-down and slacks.
“Y/N!” In two long strides he’s sweeping you into his arms and kissing you ardently, uncaring of the crowd of mechanics around you.
Catcalls and whistles break out. You blush fiercely as Charles sets you down, lacing your fingers together.
“Get it Leclerc!” One of his mechanics yells, making lewd gestures. Charles just flips him off casually, keeping his eyes on you.
“Shall we?”
You nod, face still burning. As Charles leads you away, your Red Bull colleagues join the teasing.
“Don’t wait up tonight boys!” One calls, making kissy noises.
“She’s ditching us for the red guys now!”
“Just don’t go spilling all our secrets, Y/N!”
You hide your face against Charles’ shoulder. He chuckles, wrapping a protective arm around you.
“Pay them no mind, ma belle,” he murmurs against your hair. “They are just jealous I get to spend the evening with the most beautiful woman in the world.”
You sigh happily, cuddling closer as you leave the paddock. The teasing means well — it’s their way of saying they approve. And nothing can dampen your euphoria at being with Charles again.
At the parking lot, a shiny red Ferrari awaits. Charles opens the door for you with a gallant bow before rounding the car and sliding in.
“So, where are we going?” You ask excitedly as Charles peels out onto the road. “Or do I not get to know the secret location?”
He glances at you sidelong, eyes glinting mischievously. “You will see. Let’s just say I … pulled some strings to arrange the perfect second date for us.”
You pout playfully. “Not even a little hint?”
Charles pretends to zip his lips. “Non, it is a surprise, ma petite.” His hand finds yours, thumb grazing over your knuckles. “But I think you will appreciate the … atmosphere I have created.”
The promise in his voice sends delicious shivers down your spine. You pass the drive chatting comfortably, exchanging soft, smiling glances.
After half an hour, Charles pulls up to a beautiful chateau perched on a vineyard-spotted hillside. You gasp as he escorts you inside the charming stone lodge.
“Charles, this is amazing! How did you arrange this on such short notice?”
He smiles, pleased by your reaction. “I may have called in a favor from the owners, who are family friends. We have the whole place to ourselves tonight.” His eyes smolder.
You wander the chateau in a happy daze as Charles gives you a private tour. He’s thought of everything — flowers, candles, and even champagne chilling by the roaring fireplace.
Dinner is sumptuous, featuring all your favorite dishes paired expertly with rich wines from the vineyard. Charles is attentive as always, hanging on your every word.
Afterwards you cuddle together on the sofa, pleasantly tipsy, exchanging lazy kisses as you take in the spectacular starry view through the expansive windows.
Charles nuzzles into your neck, lips grazing your hammering pulse point. “Have I mentioned how ravishing you look tonight?”
You shiver pleasurably. “I could stand to hear it again.”
He smiles against your skin. “You, mon amour, are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” His voice drops an octave. “And it is taking every ounce of my self control not to tear that dress off you this instant.”
Heat coils in your core at the unspoken promise in his words. Your fingers curl into his hair, guiding his lips back to yours. The kiss quickly grows heated, urgent.
With obvious effort, Charles forces himself to pull back, eyes blazing. “As much as I want you, we should take this slow. I want our first time to be special.” He strokes your cheek tenderly. “You deserve to be properly worshiped.”
Your heart swells at his care for you. You really hit the jackpot with this incredible man.
Cuddling against his chest, you look up at him adoringly. “You are … amazing"
Charles’ smile is soft, sincere. “I am only that way because you inspire me to be the best version of myself.” He kisses you sweetly. “I am the luckiest man in the world to have found you.”
You’ve never felt so cared for — so intensely adored. Here in Charles’ arms is exactly where you’re meant to be.
***
One Year Later
Strolling hand in hand with Charles along the Monaco harbor, you’ve never been happier. The sun glints off the water as he brushing featherlight kisses to your knuckles, making you giggle.
Charles lifts your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to your palm as you walk. “What are you thinking about, ma belle?”
You smile up at him. “Just reminiscing about everything that’s happened since you swept me off my feet.”
His eyes soften. “The best year of my life. I fall more in love with you every day.”
Heart full, you tug him down into a sweet kiss. Charles hums happily against your lips.
“Well isn’t this cozy!” An approaching voice interrupts. You pull apart to see Lucy, the Amber Lounge organizer who convinced you to participate in the auction last year, beaming at you both.
“Lucy! Hi.” You accept her enthusiastic hug.
“Don’t you two make the cutest couple?” She winks conspiratorially. “I always knew there was a spark between you.”
You laugh, lacing your fingers through Charles’ once more. His answering smile is radiant.
“I’m so thrilled it worked out.” Lucy glances between you eagerly. “So, given it’s almost that time of year again … any chance you lovebirds would let us auction you off once more? Think of the publicity!”
You tense, old anxieties rising. But before you can respond, Charles’ grip on your hand tightens.
“Actually, I have a better idea.” His voice is lethally pleasant. “How about I simply drop off a cheque for an 100,000 euro donation, and you leave my girlfriend alone?”
A frisson of heat shoots through you at his possessive tone. Charles rubs his thumb over your knuckles soothingly, holding your gazes, before fixing Lucy with a warning look.
“We will of course still attend the gala to show support. But the auction is off limits. Understood?” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
Lucy gulps. “Y-Yes, of course. My apologies if I overstepped.” She nods at you both. “Have a lovely evening!”
With that she scurries back inside the Amber Lounge.
“Good day to you.” With that, he guides you away down the street, tension radiating from him.
You glance at him in concern once you’re out of earshot. “Are you okay?”
Charles drags a hand through his hair. “Yes, I just … the thought of them putting you on display again ...” He shudders.
Your heart melts realizing why he got so defensive. You halt, turning Charles gently to face you.
“That was very macho and possessive of you back there,” you murmur, walking your fingers up his chest.
Charles winces. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to be so overbearing-”
You silence him with a finger to his lips. “Let me finish. I said it was macho and possessive.” You lean up to purr in his ear. “And so. Freaking. Hot.”
Charles’ eyes widen. Grinning, you shove him back against the brick wall and kiss him fiercely. He grunts in surprise before responding in kind, nipping your bottom lip.
“If I had known getting possessive would get this reaction, I would have done it ages ago,” he gasps out between kisses.
You silenced his laughter with your mouth, desire burning through you. The raw protectiveness Charles showed took your breath away. You’ve never felt so safe, so cared for.
Finally you break apart and Charles pulls you firmly against his chest. “I love you,” he breathes against your hair. “More than I can ever express.”
“I love you too.” You can feel the beating of his heart beneath your ear. “Now take me home and show me just how much you missed me this morning.”
Charles’ eyes darken. With a roguish grin he sweeps you into his arms, making you shriek. Laughing joyfully, he carries you down the street toward your shared apartment.
If the rest of your life together is even half as magical as this past year with Charles, you’ll die a happy woman.
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kylopen · 3 months
Text
Yes, My lord?
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18+ MINORS DNI
Warnings: Brain rotting SMUT, barely any plot, reader is 1 month pregnant (you could probs imagine she is not if you really wanted to) Mentions of body insecurities, super fluffy, Anthony is so whipped for Y/N. Borderline pregnancy/breeding kink? switch reader, switch Anthony. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it guys.
Summary: Since finding out you are pregnant Anthony simply cannot keep his hands to himself, and when you turn the tables his arousal runs wild.
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X Reader
Masterlist
Length: 1.8k words
Note: I could NOT get this scenario out of my head, i had to get this written and published *sobs*
----
"That was a rather delightful evening"
You smile as you and Anthony ascend to your bedchamber for the night. The two of you had planned a ball to tell your family and friends the news of your pregnancy. The night was filled with laughs and joy from the family, excited about Anthony's first child with you.
The two of you approach the door and Anthony opens it for you, ushering you inside.
"Indeed, dear wife."
Anthony's eyes crinkle lightly at the sides as he smiles at you, approaching you from behind, fingers expertly undoing your corset. You sigh in relief, goosebumps on your skin at the feeling of release from your day clothes. Turning to face him you also begin to help Anthony from his clothes as he laughs lightly at your eagerness to help him.
Now nude in the middle of the room, Anthony looks you over in the faint candle light, his hand softly moving along the curves of your body. He follows closely behind as you perch yourself at your vanity, ready to take out your elaborate hairstyle. Anthony's hand gently pushes yours away from your head as he begins to take it out for you, looking at you through the mirror. His gaze was intense but loving, his eyes trained thoroughly on your flustered response to the intimate gesture.
"Look at me"
The sentence was commanding but gentle. You lift your eyes and he reaches for the hairbrush just beside you on the table. he begins slowly brushing your hair, gently getting rid of any knots or tangles. Anthony was always a gentle lover, but immediately after finding out you were carrying his child he became dead set on helping you with what he could. His tender nature shining through as he aids you in your bedtime grooming process. The feeling of his hands softly grazing your neck as he brushes has you in a trance, the soothing feeling of knowing you are safe and well taken care of my a man that loves you.
He begins massaging your scalp carefully as you let out a hum of approval. Anthony lets out a quiet laugh as he watches the bliss form on your face.
"I love you, Mr Bridgerton" you tease his formal name.
"Likewise, Mrs Bridgerton, I will love you for the rest of my life"
Butterflies flutter around in your stomach as you realise just how exposed the two of you are. Then it dawns on you, looking down at your puffy stomach, feeling as though you have already gained some baby weight. It had only been a month and you weren't even really showing yet. A flash of insecurity dances across your features at the thought of getting bigger. At this point, the Viscount could read you like a book and he stops his movements in your hair to lean down and kiss your head.
"Speak what is on your mind, my love"
You think for a second before answering.
"...My... Body..." you trail off.
"You are the most beautiful woman i have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. Even more so now you are carrying our child."
You look down and pinch your widened hips, and in response Anthony moves your hand away, caressing you. He then grabs your hand, pulling you up to stand with his chest touching your back.
"There is nothing more appealing to me than my beautiful wife swelling with my seed..." his eyes darken at the thought as he begins to pepper kisses along your jawline and neck, lightly nipping and sucking and you shiver in his arms.
Heat rushes straight to your cheeks and in between your legs as you feel a solid length press against your lower back. You breath out shakily as he presses it harder against your backside.
"Anthony..." You moan softly, bordering a whimper.
The second he hears his name from your lips in such a tone he struggles to hold back, the heat in the room thickening with lust. He pushes you gently onto the bed and settles himself behind you, spooning you. His slightly rough hand glides slowly up and down your side, upper thigh to hip to shoulders. He caresses every part of your body paying extra attention to the parts you were most conscious about. You let out more whimpers from the intimacy of it all, your face feeling incredibly hot and you squirm under the touch. Your thighs squeeze together to relieve yourself in some way, only making Anthony smirk and his touches becoming more daring. His fingertips ghost along your nipples, but fall back down elsewhere on your body.
"Anthony... I am already-" you shudder as he passes by a particularly sensitive spot. "I am already pregnant..."
His laugh rumbles against your back.
"I am aware. That does not mean we cannot enjoy each others bodies hm, dear?" His tone was devilish as his touches become more bold. You flip onto your back and slightly part your legs with a pleading look to Anthony.
"So needy and impatient Viscountess Bridgerton" He tuts with a smirk.
Deciding to take matters into your own hands you launch up, planting yourself on top of him with heated cheeks. If he will be so cruel and tease you even in his aroused state, you would use him yourself. A look of surprise flashes across his face before it grows into an incredibly cocky looking grin. His body betrays him, as his chest rises and falls at a fast pace.
"What is this? darling wife." he cocks his head to the side, the same grin on his face. His eyes hold a fiery hunger.
"It seems, dear husband-" you adjust yourself just enough to tease his length and he softly moans, "That you enjoy your Lady wife taking control" you smirk, a new found confidence flowing through you at the look of your husband from above him.
He grabs your hips with both hands and grinds your core against him.
"My Lord" you moan, breathless, aware of what the title does to him.
"Y/N... I am warning you-" he begins to speak, using your name but you cut him off, pinning his hands above his head.
"Yes, My Lord?" You smirk at him as you lean in close, your lips ghosting his, only to pull away when he goes in for a kiss. You keep one hand holding his up as your other hand begins exploring your husbands chest, teasing him the way he was teasing you. Your finger lightly brushes against his groin before going up to his nipple, softly pinching the bud and a guttural moan escapes his mouth.
"How improper my Lord" you feign a gasp and he lets out a soft chuckle at your words, enjoying the confidence from his beautiful wife. The thrill and excitement from you pinning his hands above his head is almost too much to bare as he gets impossibly harder against your core. He couldn't dare say it aloud but the feeling of being at your mercy, a simple toy to you made his body weak. He could very easily remove his hands from your grasp and the two of you know it, and yet he does not move.
You plant hot, open mouth kisses on his chiseled chest, your arousal already coating his groin. he shudders under your touch and the wet feeling on his lower torso.
"You seem excited my Lord... Has something got you so?" you cock your head to the side, feigning an innocence and he groans at the sight of the same woman he gave her first orgasm to have him completely at her mercy.
"I could ask you the same thing, My dear" His tease came across in gravelly voice that screamed he was ready to take you here and now.
His cock sandwiched firmly between his abdomen and your wet pussy, you begin to rock your hips back and forward, sliding easily. The pressure on your clit had you whimpering and had him moaning in a deep voice.
"You are going to be the death of me" he looks deep into your eyes as you slide him inside you, the two of you moaning at the feeling. The teasing you both had endured was very clearly affecting you both, being incredibly sensitive.
He watches with hooded eyes as you bring your hand to your clit and begin to stimulate yourself. He could have sworn he died that very moment at the sight. It was not long at all until you came, and he relished in the feeling of your cunt throbbing around him.
"Y/N" He moans, moving his hands to your hips, squeezing the soft flesh.
"Do you wish to finish my Lord?" You smile sweetly.
"Yes I do, my dear" His reply full of lust, and a hint of neediness.
"Beg" The sweetness was immediately replaced with cockiness.
The command was simple but powerful as you look into his eyes, holding his jaw with your hand. He felt a shock wave of pleasure shoot through his body.
"Please..." his flustered face was incredibly cute.
"You can do better than that" you move slightly, to tease the feeling.
"Please! Oh god please" you almost came at the sound of his begs.
"You are free to do so... My Lor-"
Before you could finish your sentence, he sat up, you still on his lap and inside him. His hands grasped at your hips as he bucked up into you, his moans coming out as grunts mixed with whines. Hitting up into your g-spot mixed with his needy grunts and thrusts you came again, causing his orgasm to reach its peak, he continues to bounce you on top of him as he spills his seed deep inside of you.
Anthony falls back, his face delirious and euphoric, yours looking similar as you flop down onto his chest, his cock still buried inside you, slowly softening.
Within minutes he snaps out of it, gently pulling you off him, and onto the bed, approaching a second later with a wet towel he opens your legs and cleans you up, slightly smirking at the mess and your flustered face. after cleaning you up he places a soft kiss to your inner thigh and crawls back into bed with you.
He wraps his arm around your shoulders and you move your head onto his chest, feeling exhausted. The room was filled with your soft snores in no time at all and he places a kiss on top of your head, a smile on his face as he looks at you.
"I am incredibly lucky to have you, my beautiful wife" he whispers before softly touching your stomach.
"And you too, my beautiful baby"
~End~
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emmyrosee · 30 days
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Awww, I just had a cute thought, what if Yuji braids readers hair before her date with Sukuna and Yuji puts butterfly clips into her hair that goes well with her dress and Sukuna think she’s the prettiest thing in the whole wide world
I wasn’t sure if this was for toddler yuuji or not but it was sent after toddler yuuji sooooo don’t hate me if this isn’t what you meant PFFF-
NO BC YUUJI KEEPS CLOSING THE DOOR ON SUKUNA WHENEVER HE COMES IN TO ASK IF SHE'S READY BC "no, not weady"
“Okay but the reservation’s in 30-“
“Not. Weady.”
And yuuji is so focused on this task, so determined to make you look good, he’s got the tip of his tongue sticking out as his chubby fingers work in various directions and ways, clipping hair here and braiding these strands until he finally cheers and claps his tiny hands and lets you look. Your hair is braided messily, neon butterfly clips nestled in your locks and a few strands out of the braid to frame your face. For such a small boy, he definitely has paid attention to your own styling of hair. Coupled with your makeup, you feel genuinely pleased with the work his tiny hands were able to conjure.
“Awww, yuuji,” you coo, scooping him in your arms and planting a kiss to his head, making him giggle. “You did so good! You think Sukuna’s gonna like it?”
“Sukuna just wants to go!” His gruff voice yells from the other side of the door, and you snort before opening the door, watching as Sukuna’s face of annoyance turns to you, and it melts into one of awe, crimson eyes dancing over your face.
You snort and shake your head, “where’s all that big talk now, huh?”
“I…” he trails off as he lets his eyes glaze over the entirety of your being, and you watch his Adams Apple bob as you continue to beam at him. “You look… fucking beautiful.”
Yuuji gasps at the word, “‘kuna says no-no word!”
“I know, I’ll deal with him later,” you shush, putting down the small child and letting your arms loop around Sukuna’s neck, his hands settling on your waist. “Say thank you to yuuji, he worked very hard on my hair.”
But Sukuna says nothing. He still looks awestruck at you, his lips curving into a small smile of pride before he sinks his teeth into his lip. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
“Had a hunch,” you assure with a smile. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and you reciprocate the affection eagerly, tightening your arms around him. You hear yuuji giggling as he watches you both kiss, and you pull away to peek down at him, leaving sukuna to keep sponging kisses along your cheeks and jawline.
“Smoochie kiss!” Yuuji croons, and you reach down to ruffle his hair happily, relishing in the warmth of your chosen family.
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itsswritten · 1 month
Text
butterfly kisses
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader
Word Count: 1.7K (honestly it's just a little drabble)
Warnings: 18+, implied smut, lots of fluff, mating frenzy
Summary: Azriel just can't get enough of your wings <3
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If you want to read more from this universe - wings
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Azriel wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky.
He had thanked the Mother every day since the bond snapped, and even more when you accepted it. When Mor had introduced you into his life only a couple of years ago, he never imagined this would be the outcome.
Azriel vividly remembered the first night he met you. It was another gathering at Rita’s, one of the many that had unfolded, now peace settled over the land. 
Mor with playful determination had pulled you over to their table, arm looped around yours– almost in a way that said she wasn’t going to let you escape. He had noticed the faint blush that creeped up your face to your pointed ears, merely from the proximity of your High Lord and Lady, and their inner circle. He recalled how you offered a shy little curtsy in their presence, that had led to the whole table stifling their laughter. Rhys kindly explained that such formalities were not necessary, especially not in Rita’s of all places. Azriel did his best to contain his mirth at the display, all the while chewing the inside of his cheek to stop the chuckle leaving his lips. He truly couldn’t get over how adorable you were, he'd found himself captivated by your endearing innocence. 
And that was only the start.
Mor explained how she’d met you in town one day and had essentially thrusted her friendship onto you, and it really didn’t take long for Azriel and his family to do the same. 
You were so sweet and caring, and slotted into Azriel’s life so easily that he found it hard to remember a time when you weren’t there at all. Your kindness towards the Archeron sisters, guiding them through the intricate transitions of fae life that they still at times struggled with. Nyx was absolutely enamoured with you, oftentimes seeking your company over his actual family. But they didn’t blame him, because they all did same. Your calm sweet nature was addictive to them all, especially Azriel.
Driven by an insatiable curiosity, Azriel found himself seeking every opportunity to unravel all your layers. He wanted to know everything about you. From your favourite foods, to the books that captured your attention.
His infatuation all made sense when the bond snapped. 
It was the last solstice.
Azriel had noticed how beautiful you were looking, as you always were. But you were clad in a breathtaking pale pink summer dress, the neckline delicately showcasing your décolletage. As you moved with a natural grace, the fabric billowed ever so slightly at the waist, accentuating your silhouette in a manner that held attention.
Or at least held Azriel’s attention. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.
He watched you carefully navigate the chaos of the room. Nyx in one arm, giving Feyre some rest and reprieve in her pregnant state. Your other hand bringing in the cake Elain had spent all morning baking. Amidst the flurry of activity, you had been so close to dropping the cake. But Azriel's steady hand intervened just in time, grabbing the plate and taking it off you. Except in that moment your hands touched, grazed past one another in a way they had so many times before. 
But that time had been different.
It was Azriel’s turn to almost drop the cake. That all consuming warmth flooded his chest catching him off guard. A golden thread connecting itself to you. The mating bond. Finally.
And based on the bright red flush covering your cheeks, it was clear you’d felt it too. You’d fled the room then, overcome with emotion and what this new revelation meant. 
Though, it didn’t take long for Azriel to coax you round.
Ever the gentleman, he courted you. Taking you on the most thoughtful dates and spoiling you with bouquet after bouquet of flowers. He would leave little love notes and poetry for you to find. That it was really no surprise to anyone, when you decided to accept the bond.
That was only three weeks ago now.
Yourself and Azriel were deep in the mating frenzy. 
Rhys had kindly offered one of his private residences he had on the outskirts of Night. A smaller cottage, but with all the privacy you both needed. And Azriel had taken advantage of that privacy eliciting sounds from you that he would cherish forever and never tire hearing.
And then there were your wings. 
You had revealed them to him the first night after accepting the mating bond, and, Gods, was he done for.
Azriel had taken it upon himself, in the earlier months, to really vet you. His dedication to his role as Spymaster served as a guise for his self-indulgent exploration of you, delving into the intricate details of your being with a hunger that bordered on obsession. Not only had he discovered all the things you love, but he searched for details of who and what you were.
Finding himself holed up in the library at times, hours spent devoted to aquainiting himself to the type of fairy you were. 
He knew you had wings, was the type of fairy whose wings were the delicate kind. Most kept them concealed with magic. Yet, Azriel couldn't shake the thought that perhaps they were hidden not only for protection but also out of reverence for their breathtaking beauty. They were mesmerising. Enough to trap Azriel into some kind of trance. 
And perhaps possessively so, he was grateful not many males were privy to this part of you.
He was watching you now, laying on your front. Bare. Just how he’d left you when he took a moment to freshen up. You were giggling, your legs up and feet fluttering behind you while propped up over something.
“What are you doing, my love?” Azriel purred inquisitively, stepping closer towards the bed.
“Oh…Feyre was just checking in. Asking how much longer we might be,” he could hear you smile when you spoke, and watched as with the brush of your hand the magical parchment and ink disappeared that you’d been conversing with Feyre on.
“It’s not even been that long,”
“We’ve been gone three weeks–”
“And we’ll be gone 300 hundred more,”
You chuckled at his response, “Az, we do need to go back at some point. They need us.”
“I need you more.” There was no negotiating. Your family would be lucky to see you both before the next solstice at this rate.
Not that Azriel needed the frenzy to be satiated by you, but it truly was driving him. The primal need for you, overwhelming. The pair of you only stopped when you both fell into a slumber from exhaustion. And even then, there were many times you found each other in a sleep exhausted haze, tangled within and inside one another again.
The bed dipped either side of your legs, you were still on your front but could feel your mate over you. He had paused though, his eyes falling over your beautiful pink wings. The iridescent skin reflecting lights across the room. He had almost cried when he first saw them after you accepted the bond, mesmerised and overwhelmed by their beauty.
Getting to see this part of you, a part of you that was so private, stirred a gratefulness inside him. But there was something else too, a possessiveness that had slowly been creeping up his mind recently.
In the past three weeks, you had both done every possible maneuver, tried every kind of love making– fucking, screwing, mating. You’d even made him a crumbling wet mess just from playing with his wings. 
But he hadn’t touched yours.
No, they looked so delicate and soft, too beautiful to touch, that he hadn’t dared. 
You felt him situate himself behind you, his warm naked body lightly laying on you, his chest resting on your behind. His arms wormed their way under your hips to get comfy, and you splayed your wings flat against your back to fit him.
“Az?” you asked curiously, glancing slightly over at your shoulder to catch him in your peripheral.
He didn’t respond though, not with words. You felt his soft warm breath blowing on the membrane of your right wing, making your squirm under the touch. Your wing fluttering a little in the air.
“How sensitive are they? Too sensitive for me to touch?” You heard him behind you.
“Hm..” you tilted your head slightly to think, “They’re delicate, but you can touch them. Gently.”
You were waiting for him to wriggle his hand from out beneath you but instead you felt something warm and wet run against the bottom of your wing.
You couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping your lips at the soft touch. Azriel had taken it upon himself to use the tip of his tongue to explore this part of you, a part of you that was still very new to him. He felt you wriggle under him, and he shifted placing his full body weight on you so you couldn’t move.
His tongue traced the ridge of your wing, and he wasn’t letting up. Not when he’d made that sound from you. He wanted more of that. He moved and pressed his tongue flat against the delicate skin, evoking another moan from you.
“Does that feel good my little butterfly?” he purred, you could feel the smirk on his lips against your wing as he pressed a kiss on them.
You wanted to roll your eyes at his teasing, but it felt too good to do anything other than surrender to his touch.
“I want to hear your words,” he spoke a little more assertively this time, before swiping  his tongue along one of the tubular lines that spread like veins across your wings.
“Yes..” You huffed, before another moan slipped past your lips breathlessly. “It feels good Az…” You felt your body heat, your cheeks for sure rosy, grateful your mate could only hear not see the reaction he was having on you. 
He chuckled softly then, the vibrations from his lips skirting across your wings making them twitch.
“My sensitive little butterfly, ” the new nickname only made you squirm more, your core growing slick at his predatory attention.
Azriel moved his hand then, the one caught under your left hip, so effortlessly moving down to your core, cupping your wet slit as he licked the pink shiny membrane again. 
“Azriel…” you gasped, but his touch didn’t relent.
You knew this was only the start.
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a/n: just some lovely little fluffy mating frenzyness! I just love these two, so I may expand a little more on the wings universe and their relationship if you guys would like to see that! Maybe some domestic bliss, or if there's any scenes you'd like me to write for them or parts of their story you're interested in then I'm happy to explore. Also this was written fairly quickly, so please ignore any typos, I only did a quick little check hehe - Lottie
p.s. also thanks to @thisiskaylin who inspired the nickname! She commented on the wings fic that butterfly would be the perfect nickname and I just had to use it <3
Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria
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lxvvie · 2 months
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Couples Shit with Simon Riley, Parenthood Edition:
Thinking it's so cute the way your little bundle of joy scrunches up, especially when she's laying on you and/or Simon.
Simon's irregular sleep schedule making him the perfect playmate for little Miss Riley when she's up and at 'em at night. You remember walking into the living room once and watching Simon just walk around, daughter bundled up in her baby blanket in his arms, cooing and gurgling at her Papa, them having their own conversation, and watching Simon fall in love all over again.
Being hypervigilant to the point that every noise the baby makes prompts you to wake up and panic. The baby whined, you sat straight up in bed, only to see Simon staring at you in concern and baby Riley sound asleep on his chest.
Conversely, thinking something is wrong because you haven't heard the baby cry, waking up in a panic yet again only to be met with Simon and the baby looking at you crazy.
Simon officially becoming a bed for you and baby Riley. It's not uncommon for her to lay on his chest while you're nestled at his side and his arm is around you.
Absolutely, positively loving to put the baby sling on Simon and watching your big beefy lover tote the baby around in it. Also, taking a picture and sending it to the boys. The big bad Ghost? In a baby sling???? Huh. Looks cute on him.
Parental guilt, especially on Simon's end with him being gone on deployments. He made damn sure to see his baby girl take her first steps because he missed it when she began to start fully crawling.
Baby girl being captivated by the scars on Simon's face. And his crooked nose. Loves to grab at his face and you're amused by the way he scrunches his nose when she does so. Apparently baby girl is, too.
You and Simon playing with the baby and next thing you know, you hear a wet fart. Simon chuckles out of amusement and to keep from dying inside because he just changed her nappy. You conveniently had to go walk the cat and made yourself scarce. Meanwhile, baby girl is giggling and gurgling up a storm.
When she gets older, little Miss Riley loves it when Simon carries her like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. She'll run up to him and go, " 'tato, Daddy! 'tato!" and next thing you know, there's a giggling toddler slung over her dad's shoulder.
Baby girl drawing a picture of her parents at school and Simon's shoulders are bigger than... everything else on his body. Even his head. You're so tickled that you framed it.
Similarly, sneaking one of her drawings into Simon's bag so he'll see it when he's gone. He does and it's all the more reason for him to fight like hell to see you two again.
Having to limit the amount of sweets you buy because Princess Miss Riley has inherited her dad's sweet tooth. Doesn't stop them from sneaking out to go to their favorite bakery.
Baby girl being the best helper ever around the house, especially when she walks on Daddy's back to help alleviate the stiffness.
Because she likes to draw so much, Simon promised his daughter that she can design the next tattoo he gets. Well, it turns into an entire project and you and her proceed to draw butterflies and other cute designs on his other arm. True to his word, Simon gets another sleeve tattoo with those same drawings. Cheers, luvs.
Simon being in the doghouse with little Miss Riley because he was supposed to wake up with true love's first kiss because you and Simon were reenacting Sleeping Beauty for your daughter. Simon may or may not have taken it a bit too seriously and dozed off. Your baby girl is now upset because this means Sleeping Beauty will never wake up again and no amount of treats from daddy can change that. Princess Daddy status has officially been revoked, Simon. For now lmao.
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fazcinatingblog · 3 months
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Tumblr, today my boss consumed:
6 cheese biscuits
Another 6 cheese biscuits
Then 6 choc chip cookies
One pod espresso coffee
Her sandwich brought from home
Mineral water
You're welcome
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