#i shared a bedroom almost my whole life growing up

[fastandcarlos]

Restless Baby : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: 1.1k words of dad and husband max trying to fix the angsty mess that he's made

A hum of confusion came from Max as he tapped the space beside him, expecting to feel your figure. Instead he was slapped by the harsh cold of your empty space, the chill in the air leaving Max shivering. He knew bed was where you needed to be, especially with your pregnancy so close to the end.

He slowly sat himself up, brushing his hands over the front of his face. Max steadily stood up, noticing a faint glow of light coming from the doorway. He knew it was you, but he was confused as to what you were still doing up. 2:07 the clock informed him, definitely time for you to be resting. Max crept through the house, moving down the stairs to try and find where you were.

Fast asleep.

Max was almost relieved to see you resting until he noticed how uncomfortable you looked. The guilt struck him as soon as he took you in, knowing that your decision to sleep on the cold, battered sofa was all down to him.

Unlucky for Max, you weren’t quite as asleep as he thought you were. You could hear him moving through the room, desperately trying to keep your eyes screwed shut in an attempt to convince Max that you really were asleep and for him to leave you alone. He knew you better though, and knew exactly the way to try and catch you out too.

His head shook as he took a few quiet steps towards you, poking his finger against your arm that hung out from the blanket you had draped over you. Your body jumped at his sudden touch, confident you could hear Max giggling proudly to himself as he sat down beside your figure, giving you a moment to rub the sleep out of your eyes and tilt your head to look across at him.

“This is ridiculous,” Max told you, resting his arm just above your head.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huffed, pulling the blanket further around your body, making sure that your bump was well protected and warm.

“Just come and join me in bed.”

Your head shook defiantly back at Max. “Why would I share a bed with the man who says I’m distracting his career because he can’t get a good night’s sleep with all my fidgeting. I’m giving you what you wanted right now, what’s the problem?” You snapped. Max flinched at your harsh tone, he knew what he’d said was probably the worst thing that he could say, and he knew he had a whole world of making up to do too.

“According to my data I got three hours of sleep last night, my coaches are really concerned as to what’s going on!”

“You try being seven months pregnant and see how it easy it is to rest at night, I’m sorry life is so difficult for you Max.”

“At least you can rest most of the day!”

“Wow Max!”

“My lack of sleep is starting to effect my performance and I can’t let that happen, my career is important and you wriggling around most of the night is really starting to impact that!” Max yelled back, stopping as soon as he realised what he had said. Your eyes fell to the floor as you took a moment to process what he had said, sticking the blame on you as if you wanted to sleep restlessly and enjoyed not being able to let your husband rest at night. “Babe, I-“

“Don’t even try and apologise, I can’t believe you’re making me feel guilty for growing our child, I’m sorry it’s all just such an inconvenience.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, you know I don’t feel that way,” Max tried to argue, but your mind was already made up, his true feelings really were now known.

“You go to bed Max, I’ll give you the space that your precious career needs,” you told him, pushing him in the direction of your bedroom. He let his feet go, knowing arguing with you was pointless, hoping you’d follow behind him.

“I don’t know what I was thinking when I said what I said earlier love.”

Max’s hand slowly reached out and hovered over the top of your bump, smiling to himself as he admired just how big your baby was getting.

“My career is important, but you and the baby mean so much more to me. I was insensitive and rude, my priorities weren’t straight. I know it’s hard for you, and I really do completely understand how difficult being pregnant is,” Max whispered.

Your hand slowly moved across your bump, resting your fingers just over the top of Max’s.

“No one wants for me to sleep peacefully more than me,” you informed him.

“I know,” he smiled, shuffling closer towards you. “I’m so proud of you, you’re coping so well, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel anything different.”

“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know?”

“I do,” Max chuckled as he saw the first hint of a smile on your face. “I’m stupid, selfish and a massive ass sometimes, but that doesn’t stop me being so in love with you and our baby. You have no idea how excited I am for our future together babe.”

You hummed in agreement with Max, “I do, I’ve heard all those interviews you did in Miami last weekend.”

“Seeing as you’re talking to me again, is there a chance you might come and join me in bed again too? It’s horrible being in there without you,” Max smirked, extending his hand out for you to take.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you teased, taking Max’s hand and allowing his other arm to wrap around you and help you off of the sofa.

“Can I get that in writing too?” Max grinned as you started walking.

Your head shook as he supported you all the way back to the bedroom, easing you down and placing the duvet gently over your body.

“Max, reckon you could sleep if I laid in your side?” You whispered, surprised by just how cold your spot was after you left it abandoned for so long.

“Of course,” he replied without even having to think, lifting his arm up and inviting you into the warmth beside him.

“Is this alright for you?”

“I promise, it���s more than alright for me.”

Whether he slept well for the rest of the night or not, it didn’t matter to Max, just as long as he had you back by his side.

And if his data was rubbish, well, his coaches would just have to deal with it.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile II

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: It's beginning to be a littler darker. Slowly we will see Alastor's mindset. There is blood in this chapter and a bit of sadism from Alastor. But I hope you'll enjoy it. I can't wait for them to grow up so it can get darker and darker~

You were so bored. You were laying on the floor of your bedroom, staring at the ceiling. It's been a whole week since you played with Alastor and you couldn’t wait for the weekend to come. Your mother wanted you to make friends in your new school and the weekend you would be able to go play with Alastor, and she would be able to meet with her precious friend.

 You pouted. You were still trying to find new games to play with Alastor, you didn’t want him to feel bored with you, you wanted him to want to be friends with you!  You didn’t want him to see you as a child, you were eight years old, he was a year older, if you were a child so was he ! You stood up and went downstairs, meeting your mother in the kitchen.

“ Mommy, what do boys like?” you asked, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. You didn’t know why but you felt embarrassed to ask your mother. Most of the time, your friends would follow your lead as you decided the games you wanted to play. Your mother turned toward you with a knowing smile.

“ What do boys like or what do Alastor like?” she said with a teasing glint in her eyes. You shook your head so hard you almost lost your balance. How come she already knew you were thinking about the boy?

“ No mommy ! It’s just… At school, they don’t play the same game I used to.. So I’m asking you, what kind of games were you playing when you were my age?” you tilted your head, proud of you. You weren’t lying , you were also curious about your mother’s childhood, but if it could help you find a game Alastor would like.. 

Your mother held her chin with her finger, looking at the ceiling, searching in her memory. After a few seconds she shook her head and went back to cooking.

“ I’m sorry sweetie, I don’t really remember. It’s a shame you don’t want to know what Alastor likes, Marie told me some information about him but I guess you are not interested.” she sighed with a smile as she cut the vegetable on the kitchen counter. You looked at your mother, eyes wide open, curiosity devouring your inside. 

“ What does he like, Mommy? Tell me, tell me!” you bounced next to her, grabbing her dress with a beaming smile, already forgetting that you wanted to keep your curiosity about the boy a secret. She laughed as she patted your head, putting the knife down.

“ Well, he likes food, he always loves helping Marie when she is cooking but if my memory is correct he doesn’t like sweets. He also loves music, he plays the piano very well !” She told you as you stared at her. He liked food and music… 

You didn’t know how to play an instrument  and you only knew how to make sweets - with your Mother’s help-. how were you supposed to be closer to him with that information!

 “ Well sweetie, don’t look so down! You can sing with him while he plays the piano, can’t you?” she tilted her head as she stroked your cheek. You blushed and shook your head, you loved singing but you didn’t want Alastor to hear you, what if he didn’t like your voice? He didn’t see you as a proper lady, what if he deemed your voice annoying or worse ! Maybe you could try to cook something for him with your mother’s help..? As you shared your idea with your mother she smiled and promised that this weekend you would cook something for Alastor and his mother.

~~~

Finally! You buzzed with excitement as you held the plate that contained the food you made with your mother. It was almost 2 pm as you walked toward the soon to be familiar house.  Your father didn’t come with you this time, saying that he would not interfere with your mother and Marie’s gossip. You couldn’t hide your smile as your mother knocked at the door, laughing at your eagerness. Three seconds later, the door was wide open with Marie hugging your mother and kissing you on both cheeks. You really liked “La bise”, you hoped she would keep doing it.

“ Well, well, what is that my dear? Did you make it for us ?” Marie asked as she took the plate from you, inviting you inside her house. You nodded with a proud smile, looking around to see if Alastor was there. “ If you’re looking for Alastor, I think he is in his bedroom, playing with his radio.” You didn’t wait for her to give you permission, as soon as she told you where Alastor's bedroom was, you were running, trying not to fall the stairs, eager to play with the boy. 

You quietly opened the door and peeked inside the bedroom where you could hear music playing. And there he was, his back to you,his head moving with the rhythm of the melody, sitting on a chair with a radio on the desk in front of him. You grinned and walked slowly and quietly toward him, you were going to give him the scare of his life. As you inhale air to shout near his ear–

“ How rude, entering a boy’s bedroom without permission.” Alastor turned his face toward you with a cocky smile. You almost said a bad word but held yourself and you smiled at him.

“ I see no boy.” you grinned, as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, just like he did the first time you met him. He blinked and brought his face closer to yours, his smile getting bigger and bigger. You blushed and took a step back. “ What ?”

“ You know that I could hear you from the moment my mother opened the door? You aren’t really discrete. “ he took his glasses on his desk and put them on before looking at you once again. “ Why are you here ?”

You almost choked on your own saliva. What did he mean? Didn’t he want to see you again? Trying not to blush from embarrassment you just turn your head to the side, closing your eyes, your lips in a small pout. 

“ Well, my mommy wanted to see your mommy and she brought along. I didn't want to see you again!” you stuck your tongue at him before turning your back at him. Your face was red, disappointment and embarrassment were circling in your body. You felt so upset, so lonely.... You felt Alastor’s hand on your shoulder but didn’t move, you kept your back at him. You were done being nice to him. Serves him right! 

You heard him sigh before you felt his hand on your eyes, covering them. You stood still, confused. What was he doing? Can’t he see that you were angry with him? You opened your mouth to tell him to back off but–

“ I didn’t expect…to be content to see you today.”

You stood there for a minute in silence, his hand still covering your eyes. You couldn’t help the big smile stretching your lips. You put your hand on his eyes, as you could because you couldn’t see anything, but Alastor took your hands and put it on his eyes.

“ I wanted to see you too.”

You both stayed like this for a minute or two until you couldn’t hold still any longer. You took your hands off his face and he did the same. You smiled at him before kissing both his cheeks, just like his mother did to you. He looked at you, his smile twitching but didn’t do anything else. You clapped in your hands, feeling overjoyed once more.

“ I cooked something for you ! And don’t worry, it’s not sweets !” you smiled, pleased with yourself. Alastor blinked, tilted his head and grinned.

“ Why did you not make sweets ?”

“ I thought you did not like sweets?”

“ How do you know?” he teased.

“ Whatever, it’s not important!” you walked toward his radio with big shining eyes. You listened to the music coming out of it and turned to Alastor with a big smile. “ Let’s dance !”

You saw his smile stretched with a glint in his eyes. He held his hand toward you like a gentleman. Just like how your father did when he danced with your mother in the living room. You took his hand and jumped to the rhythm, laughing as you saw Alastor face drop, his smile confused, watching you jumping around as you held his hand in yours. You encouraged him to jump just like you, you didn't know if he was timid or something else but after some time he began to dance with you. 

He took your hand, making you twirl, your dress moving with your movement. You looked at him, surprised. He seemed to know how to dance like an adult! He smirked at you and you couldn't bear to see his face so satisfied, again. You let go of his hand, dancing toward his bed… and then, you took a pillow and threw it at his face. You watched as it hit him right in the face, making him stumbled back, falling in his behind. You laughed loudly, holding your belly.

“ Serves you right Mister Alastor–” you fell on your bottom as Alastor ran toward you and hit you with the pillow. He had a big grin on his face, laughing and hitting you with the pillow as you were laughing, trying to escape him. He pinned you down and held the pillow in his hand above his head.

“ Rule number one, never drop your guard.” He hitted you with his pillow. “ Rule number two, I’m the strongest here.” he hitted you once again. “ Rule number three, give up.” He smiled as he watched you trying to sit up but each time you tried, he would hit you softly with his pillow. As he held the pillow once again above his head, his shirt raised a little, making you able to see his belly. You tilted your head as you saw .. bruises ? You looked at his face and saw his gaze on you, any kind of fun was no longer present, even his smile seemed to have faded a little. 

You quickly took his hand and put it on your eyes, covering your vision.

“ I wanted to make you something, I know you don’t like sweets because I asked my mother what you would have liked…” you bite your lips, your cheeks red. You wanted Alastor to laugh again, you wanted him to have fun so you began to blablated about your old life, what you liked to eat, to do… you let his hand go but he kept it on your eyes. After five minutes of you talking alone you stopped.

“ … So you sing?” he asked.

“Yes! ” 

“ We can try a duet if you are good enough.” he took his hand off your face with a playful smile. You grinned, mission accomplished !

“ Kids, come downstairs !”

Alastor stood up and helped you sit up. As soon as you were ready, you went downstairs where your mothers were waiting for you. You sat on the sofa with Alastor as you began to chat the afternoon away. Beginning to get bored after twenty minutes, you looked at the windows and squeaked in glee as you saw a cat walking. You jumped off the sofa and ran outside. 

“ Kitty, kitty, hello~” you approached your hand and let the cat nuzzle against your hand. You smiled as you petted it, happy to hear it purring. You heard footsteps behind you and soon after you saw Alastor, standing still as he stared at the cat. You didn’t know what happened but the cat began to hiss toward your friend, you tried to calm it but its claws dug into your hands before it ran away. You let out a scream as you held your hand against your chest. That hurts ! You looked at your bleeding hands, tears welling up in your eyes.

“ Let me see.”

You sniffed as Alastor took you hand in his, watching your injury. You tried to not cry, you didn't want him to think you were a crybaby! He asked if it hurted, to which you answered with a nod.

“ You can cry if you want.” You shook your head but let out a shout as Alastor dug his nails in your hand. You looked at him, eyes wide open with tears streaming down your face, why did he do that? But what was even more confusing was that Alastor was staring at you, without blinking.

“ Don’t be ashamed, you can cry. I… I think I want you to cry.” he looked confused even with his smile. You didn’t know why but you began to cry as Alastor was observing you. You didn’t know what was happening and it was kind of scary but maybe Alastor was asking you to cry because he couldn’t cry? You thought about his bruises on his belly and cried louder. You were scared. You opened your eyes to see Alastor’s face closer than a moment ago. 

“ You…–”

“Alastor.”

Alastor flinched as he tored his gaze from you and looked in the voice’s direction. You tried to look behind you but he kept you against him, hugging you. You sniffed but didn’t move. Who was that?

“ Father.”

“ Why is this chick crying ? For God’s sake, what have you done boy?”

“ The cat scratched her.”

“ This stupid cat… I’ll shoot it next time.”

And just like that, the man entered inside Marie’s house, shouting about his arrival and that he was hungry. You searched Alastor’s eyes but he hid your eyes once again with his hands.

“ Never cry in front of this man.”

You just nodded.

~~~

Marie was cleaning your cut while your mother was petting your hair, saying that you were a brave girl because you weren’t crying. You couldn’t help but look at the man, sitting on the sofa with a glass of… whiskey was it? Alastor was sitting next to you but his smile seemed so tense. 

“ I think it’s time for us to go home, I wouldn’t want to go back when it’s too dark.” Your mother said as she stood up. Marie did the same and you turned toward Alastor. You whispered into his ear. 

“ I’ve made pizza with my mother. I hope you will like it.” He looked at you as you gave him a happy smile. He took your uninjured hand in his and dragged you to the kitchen. He looked around to be sure that nobody was here then, he took a knife and took your plate. He began to cut two pieces of pizza and offered you one piece. You smiled at him and began to eat the pizza that your mother and yourself made. You stared at Alastor as he munched, looking at the food in his hand. He looked at you and smiled softly.

“ It’s good.” you beamed at his answer. “ Next time, I’ll cook for you.”

You hurriedly finished your food before going toward your mother who was calling for you. You kissed Alastor on the cheek and waited for Marie’s bise. You waved them goodbye and left with your mother.

~ ~ ~ 

You were staring at your ceiling, in your bed. You were supposed to be sleeping but your thoughts were too loud to be able to fall asleep. You sighed and looked at your injured hand. Why did Alastor want to see you cry? Why did he not want you to cry in front of his father? You huffed, next weekend, you’ll ask him. And if he doesn't you will hit him with a pillow.

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova

[not-magdi]

"Chocolates"

Warnings: smut, 18+

Summary: You and Pablo try out some special chocolates

Word Count: 1k

Reading Time: 4 min

A/N

This whole thing is actually not my idea, it was @amaranthineghost idea so all credits go to her and her post.

Hope you enjoy it, love you guys Magdi <3

---------

Pablo's body felt like it was on fire. Every muscle in his body longed for her. He didn't even know it was possible to feel so turned on as he currently is. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he looked over at you, hoping to see the same effect on you.

He shuddered when he glanced at you and found you sitting on the couch, looking completely unbothered like these damm chocolates didn't even do anything to you.

When you saw a video of a couple trying out these unique chocolates, you knew you wanted to try these things with Pablo, too. You two have been trying out new things in the bedroom lately. Not that there was anything wrong with your sex life, but you two are young and want to experiment a bit.

As you first came to him with the idea, he just smiled and waved you off, not believing a piece of chocolate could have such an effect on him. So you ordered them and made a challenge out of it. The one who lasts longer has total control afterwards.

Still not believing these things work, Pablo agreed instantly. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated things, so he wasn't worried he had to give away the control tonight.

Oh, how he cursed himself for making this bet now. He was slowly losing his mind. It was only ten minutes since you split one of these little squares. Little beads of sweat collected on his forehead as his sweatpants became tighter with every second.

He thought you didn't see him struggling so badly, but you did. You acknowledged every movement of his, every little huff he let out as he adjusted himself again. You had a perfect look at him from your peripheral vision, your phone screen long dark, you only had your eyes on him.

You would lie when you'd say you weren't affected at all. The warmth between your legs was growing stronger and stronger. You were just better at hiding it.

Pablo, on the other hand, was close to exploding. Because you just had to wear his favourite pair of shorts you own and one of his old jerseys with his name on the back.

The images that were flooding his mind were everything but PG13. As much as he tried to stop it, he couldn't. Pictures of you on your knees before him, his hands in your hair as his cock was buried deep down in your throat.

A choked sound left his lips as he bucked his hips up into nothing to get at least a bit of friction.

Smirking, you sit up, looking into his eyes with a smug expression, "You giving up?"

His face flushes bright red, "N-no I'm fine, totally fine."

"Ok, if you say so." Shrugging, you lay yourself on your stomach before him. Now, Pablo had a great look at how good your ass looks in those shorts.

Groaning loudly, he finally admits defeat. "Baby, come here, now."

Smirking, you stand up and walk over to him, making sure to sway your hips while walking. Now standing between his legs, you wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance between you two.

Feeling her soft, chapped lips against his own made every muscle shiver. God, how he missed that feeling. Almost like an instinct, his hands ran down her spine and flattened against her ass. Applying some force, he urged you to curl your body against his.

Finally, having her sitting where he needed her the most drew a sinful sound from his lips. "You like that baby? Huh, you like having me in your lap?"

Pablo's grip on you got tighter, moving you gently on his dick. "Mhm you know I love it, Amor." He whispered into your ear.

You two continued to share passionate kisses as you gradually became less clothed. Now, only in your underwear, Pablo moves to go on top of you, but you stop him.

"Hey, you lost the bet. I'm on top tonight."

Letting out a huff, Pablo moves to sit up again and guides you on his lap. Both of you let out a hiss as your core brushes over his clothed dick. You start to brush soft kisses all over his necked chest. While your hand slowly moves downwards, scratching his abs slightly with your nails.

"Mhm, fuck Y/N!" Your hand finally disappears beneath the cotton of his boxers. Pablo sucked in a sharp breath as you griped him in and slowly started to massage him.

Pushing his underwear down his thighs, you climb up again after removing your panties. Locking your eyes with Pablo, you slowly sink down on his length, letting out a loud whimper when he is bottoming you out.

Pablo's hands grip your hips tightly while he leaves wet kisses all over your collarbones. You start to move gently up and down, increasing your pace gradually.

Your nails claw into his back as Pablo starts to thrust upwards into you, your breath hitching with every thrust. Arching your back a bit makes Pablo hit your G-spot with every thrust.

"Shit Pablo, right there!"

"Right here, baby? Yeah, does that feel good?"

Your words coiled in your throat. The only answer you can give are high-pitched moans right into Pablo's ear.

Feeling the coil in his stomach get tighter and tighter, Pablo reaches down to rub your clit. Wanting you to come before him.

Pablo's finger flicking aggressively on your clit was the last thing you needed to cum. Clenching hard around him, you release your juices all over his lap, squirming at the overstimulation.

Grunting loudly, Pablo feels your walls clenching around him and shoots his load deep into you.

You two bask in the afterglow of two amazing orgasms for a few minutes until Pablo picks you up and carries you to the bathroom.

"You ok, Amor?"

Cuddling yourself deeper into his strong arms, you nod. "I'm good, and I love you."

Pablo giggles and snuggles you into the soft blanket of your bed. You were always becoming a big softie after sex, and Pablo thought it was the cutest thing ever.

Cuddling himself next to you, he grabs you and snuggles his face into your neck.

"Goodnight bebé, I love you."

"I love you too."

----

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome!! ❤️

[edensxgarden]

Baby fever with Lando, which then leads to sleepless nights… 🤫🤫

You had never particularly found yourself wanting to be a mother. When you grew old, you had visions of growing old with your lover, supporting him on the track until he eventually retired, and then traveling the world for leisure rather than for work. You simply had your whole life vaguely mapped out, staying alongside Lando, just you two.

But while laying in bed, scrolling through Instagram, you stumbled on a video. You watched as your phone played a video of Lando hugging a young fan, the boy crying in adoration and excitement at meeting his idol. A blush dusted your cheeks, and you couldn't stop watching. 

Seeing Lando being so good with the kid had your mind racing. You envisioned him playing around with a son of your own, a little baby for you to share. You couldn't shake the image of your happy little family, and it had you rethinking everything. Lando would be such a good father—the best father of your sweet kid—it made your heart clench. 

You were taken off guard when Lando walked into your room, dramatically flopping on the bed next to you. You caught vision of him, his hair messy and fluffed up, covered by a backwards hat. He wore grey sweats with no shirt, and his disheveled appearance did nothing but further emphasize your rosy cheeks. 

"What are you watching, baby?" He asked you with a curious smile on his face. These were the type of days you loved—lazy days where you laid together in bed all day scrolling through silly videos and binging some series you vowed to watch together.

In your flustered state, you shied away from his question, not wanting to admit that you had been watching this stupid video on loop for almost 5 minutes now. In the absence of your answer, Lando grabbed onto your phone and saw the reel your Instagram displayed, slyly giggling to himself at your attempts to retrieve your device. 

Lando looked back at you with a knowing smirk, the gears in his mind quickly working to read yours. Just looking at you, he could practically recite your exact thoughts, and he couldn't lie; the thought did quick work of turning him on. 

Lando was never quite on the same page as you about kids. He was never dead-set on having them, but a small part of him wanted one day to retire and raise a small family with you. Deep in your hearts, both of you knew you were far from ready for that, but that didn't matter in this moment. 

Lando grabbed your reaching arms, throwing the phone you were trying to reclaim somewhere safely in the room and pulling you towards him. He roughly claimed dominance over your mouth as you sloppily made out. Drool slipped from the sides of your mouths, and your teeth clashed together, but it turned you on beyond belief as you needily grinded yourself against his lap. 

"I got you, baby," Lando gruffly whispered to you as he skillfully pulled off your pajama shorts and made quick work of your panties, smirking to himself at the wet patch that soaked through the crotch area. He instantly sank his large fingers into your cunt, letting his thumb rest on your puffy clit, rubbing small circles onto it. 

You let your head loll back, letting your sweet moans echo through your bedroom while Lando expertly used his huge hands on your pussy. Lando always relished in the noises you made, pathetic and needy moans egging him on to make you cum around his fat fingers. 

Lando spoke with a condescending voice, babying you through the immense pleasure he brought you with just your fingers alone. He often found himself giggling at just how desperate you were for him. His patronizing laugh just made you wetter, wet squelching noises harmonizing with your moans. "Gotta get you ready for my big cock, yeah, baby? Gotta stretch you open." 

Despite the narcissistic act he had going on, Lando was completely enamored with you. He was so hard in his sweats, that he felt like he could go insane. His throbbing cock pressed against his pants, the leaky tip leaving a pearly wet spot against the fabric.

Growing needy himself, Lando increased the pressure on your swollen clit, pushing you over the edge as you tightened around Lando's fingers. Your body shook and twitched in pleasure, losing yourself in the feeling of Lando working you through your orgasm. 

Once you game down from your high, Lando was quick to rid himself of his pants, unable to stop his shakey hands from grabbing and pulling on his poor, deprived dick. He flipped you over so you were lying with your back against the plush mattress and aligned himself with your weepy hole, pushing in with a long wonton moan. 

Lando stilled inside of you, and desperate to feel him, you pushed your hips back on his, beginning to fuck yourself on his dick. Lando gripped onto your hips with bruising force, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths before signing out between gritted teeth, "Gotta stop that, baby, or I'll cum right now." 

You begrudgingly stopped your movements, letting Lando adjust to the squeeze of your walls around his cock. Once he regained his composure, though, there was no stopping him. Lando pistoned his hips into yours, fucking you with ferocious speed. 

He pushed your legs against your chest, holding them in place as he fucked you, reaching so deep inside that you could practically feel his fat cock in your stomach. Lando couldn't help his moans from escaping his mouth, his dirty mouth betraying him and spouting absolute filth as your cunt sucked him deeper and deeper inside. 

"Gotta fuck a baby into you, yeah? Gonna fuck you till you're all nice and pregnant with our kid." A loud moan interrupted his rambling, your pussy feeling far too good around his sensitive dick. 

"So tight around me, baby. Your sweet pussy is practically begging me to cum inside, fuck!" You unconsciously clenched around him, his lewd words forcing a moan out of you. 

Your legs began to shake as Lando moved one of his hands to play with your sensitive clit, feeling the familiar feeling washing over you. With a particularly deep thrust, you came around Lando's dick. Your tight walls squeezed around him, and he couldn't hold back any longer, emptying his heavy balls into your cunt and shooting milky white ropes of cum deep inside your pussy. 

Once he came down from his high, he rolled over onto his side, a loving look in his blue eyes as he pushed the leaking cum back into your cunt. "Don't wanna waste any of it." He clarified, and a proud smile flashed across his face. 

With a heavy heart, you regained the strength to look up into Lando's loving eyes. You whispered out to him, almost sad at your words, even though you knew it was for the best. "Lando.. you know I'm on the pill right?"

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 40

Part 1 Part 39

Days pass, and Steve’s painkiller script runs dry. Without the pills, Steve’s every waking moment twinges, but what irks him more is the way his life is passing him by.

He spent almost a week in a painkiller haze of sleep, and now he’s awake and pissed off.

The swimming season is almost over, he’s going to be drowning in schoolwork, and he’s just sitting in the Munson trailer, rotting with Eddie by his side.

Will had gone back to school yesterday, and Steve’s itching to scrabble back into mundanity.

His doctor, Wayne, Eddie, hell even Joyce, all act like it’s too soon, like he’s made of crumpled paper, like he needs handled delicately or he’ll tear.

He’s sick of it. Steve wakes up, too early with the taste of ash in his throat. Eddie’s already awake, curling his fingers around Steve’s forearm and dragging him closer in his small shoebox bed.

“What day is it?” Steve asks.

Eddie squints at the clock, reading the vivid red 4:43 on the clock like it’s a calendar. “Thursday…” he says, voice ragged with sleep, trailing off, clearly unsure.

Steve stares up at the dark ceiling, doesn’t look at the glowing red, and says, “I’m going to school today.”

Eddie squeezes his forearm, says, “Steve,” plaintively.

“I can’t do this Eddie,” Steve whispers. He blinks and he’s there, staring up at the vines writhing on Eddie’s ceiling, the red of Eddie’s alarm clock pouring through the windows. He blinks again, and he’s back, Eddie’s warmth beside him. “I’m going crazy, cooped up in here.”

Eddie sighs, a long, dramatic groan that vibrates Steve’s head where it’s propped up against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re making me go to school, Stevie,” he says, trailing his fingers gently up and down Steve’s shoulder.

“Don’t you miss your friends?” Steve asks, pointedly not thinking of his own.

Eddie’s still rubbing Steve’s shoulder, as he replies, “Yeah. Jeff called a few days ago, and Wayne told him I had the flu.” He sighs. “I just hate lying to them.”

Steve’s relationship with Tommy and Carol is built on a bed of deflection and lies. No, what you said didn’t hurt my feelings. Of course, I want to throw a party and get stuck holding the bag when the cops show up. Yeah, my parents are out of town a lot, you’re right, it’s the best.

But sometimes, when Tommy was just the right level of tipsy, or late at night at one of his sleepovers with Carol, one of them would say something real. Carol would whisper about the diet her Mom was on, how her bones were that of a bird and Carol was so afraid of being whittled down to nothing. How Tommy’s dad had hit his face hard enough to bruise, and then gotten made that he looked like a ruffian the next day.

How Steve’s parents don’t stick around long at all.

Those are the people he misses. The people left rotting in the corners of the ones who roam the halls of Hawkins High. That’s not who he’ll get to see at school today.

“They’d understand,” Steve says. “If they’re your friends, they’d understand.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Eddie says, letting the topic drop.

Wayne grumbles over his mug of coffee when they stumble out of Eddie’s bedroom, both dressed in Eddie’s clothes, but doesn’t say much. They share a quiet breakfast, as Wayne scarfs down his meal before bed, drooping into his plate.

Eddie rifles through the whole trailer until he finally finds the van keys discarded in the bathroom. Wayne sends them off with a gruff, “come home if ya get tired,” as they walk through the door.

Steve doesn’t notice he doesn’t have any of his stuff until Eddie’s already pulling into the parking lot, students glaring and giving a wide berth to his van as it loudly chug chug chugs into a space.  

He can’t remember if he had any assignments due, what they were learning, barely even remembers his class schedule. It’s like everything from before has the haze of a dream. Only the nightmare of after is crisp and real.

The whispers as he stumbles out of Eddie’s van, start slow. They grow louder when Eddie rushes to the other side of the van, holding out his arm in an offer of support that Steve snubs.

Eddie walks by his side, leaning into him like he just can’t help himself. “You know,” he whispers conspiratorially. “It’s not too late to pretend I kidnapped you or something.”

Steve snorts, letting his elbow slide into Eddie’s ribs as he takes a step closer, even as the stares fillet his skin right open. “I’d make a terrible captive.”

Eddie laughs. “You really do,” Eddie says, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Coming here against the doctor’s orders? Naughty naughty!”

Steve jams his elbow into Eddie’s ribs, hard this time, sending him reeling even as he laughs, clutching the abused spot.

No one approaches them, treating the whole spectacle like it’s a television show. Fascinating and untouchable.

But the bubble inevitably bursts. Tommy’s loitering by Carol’s locker, arm slung over her shoulder as she digs through its contents. She laughs, smacking his arm even as she smiles up at him. They look happy. Fine. Normal. Like Steve hasn’t been missed at all.

There’s something dark and slimy slithering up Steve’s throat. He swallows it down.

He keeps walking, Eddie by his side, not looking their way. So, it’s a shock when a small hand grabs his hand and yanks.

“What the hell, Steve?” Carol says, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Where have you been?”

“Nevermind that, what happened to your hair?” Tommy asks, laughing. Like Steve being missing is a joke. Like everything always is, with him.

“Just felt like a change,” Steve says, smiling sarcastically at them before trying to continue on his way.

Carol’s hand tangled in his sleeve stops him. He looks down at it. Her fingernails are turning white under her pretty pink nail polish. He sighs, stops, Eddie stopping beside him.

“I was in the hospital,” he says, meeting Carol’s eyes, pretending Tommy isn’t there at all. “Thanks for visiting by the way.”

She takes a startled step back, stretching Steve’s borrowed sweatshirt out with the way her fingers are still hanging onto it. As if she can sense people staring, she steps forward, holds her ground as she glares up at him, hissing, “we didn’t know!” she stamps her foot, loud with her clunky heels. “We went to your house, and no one answered!”

“And you didn’t think that was weird?” Steve demands. “You didn’t think, huh, maybe we should look for Steve? You couldn’t even pretend to give a shit?”

“Steve, I—” Carol starts, before Tommy interrupts her.

“So, what?” he demands, posturing into Steve’s space before Eddie throws out an arm, pushing him back. “You got your feelings hurt and you decide to start slumming it with the trailer trash?”

That dark thing slithers back up Steve’s throat. He pours it out at Tommy’s feet. “Anyone’s an upgrade compared to you,” he spits. “Poor little Tommy, has to make everything a joke so no one will notice there’s nothing underneath.”

“Steve!” Carol gasps.

“Oh, like you’re any better!” he says, something vicious and snarling crawling out of him. “Act like a bitch so no one gets any closer.”

“And what does that make you?” she demands.

“Steve,” Eddie says, pulling him back. “Let’s go.”

Steve looks at the two people who were his best friends and feels nothing. “You’re right,” he says, turning around and not looking back. “They’re not worth it.”

“Whatever,” Tommy shouts. “Just go off and fuck your new boyfriend, see if I care!”

People in the hallway are staring. Steve feels their eyes like fingernails down his face. Eddie takes a step away from him but doesn’t leave his side.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods, afraid he’ll spit up rage like bile if he opens his mouth. Eddie doesn’t leave him alone until he’s at the threshold of English class.

“I’m in shop,” he says, eyeing Steve critically. “Get me if you need me, okay?”

Steve nods.

“Promise me,” Eddie says, crossing his arms and staring Steve down. They both ignore the furtive look other students give them as they slip past to get into the classroom.

Steve chokes out, “I promise,” maintaining eye contact with Eddie until he finally turns and leaves with a strained sigh.

Once he’s out of sight, Steve runs on shaky legs, shoving through the nearest bathroom door and dropping painfully to the tile as he leans over the open lid of the toilet, stomach heaving.

It’s not rage that crawls out. Something small, and slimy, and black slithers out of his throat and into the bowl.

Steve flushes the bowl, washes his mouth out and goes back to class just before the bell.

Part 41

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar

[cheeseceli]

My first and last

Pairing: Jeong Yunho × Gn!reader

Genre: very very fluff, drabble

Summary: as memories come and go, you are reminded of your first and last love

Warnings: reader wears a dress, that's pretty much it

A/n: I finally wrote something for the literal love of my life (best thing I've ever written)

It felt like it was your first date all over again

When Yunho first said he would like to take you out on an official date one day, you thought you were dreaming. How else in the world would your long term crush invite you out? Yet, the shy smile on his lips and the heat rising to your neck were the proof you needed that all of that was real.

You remember how you spent a whole week trying to find the perfect outfit for the oh so special day. Tonight, you were wearing a similar dress to the original one. You smiled at the fond memory. Even after all the years, you still looked pretty much the same. The lovesick smile was still there, stronger than ever.

He took you to a movie theater, recently opened back in that time. The latest movie of your favourite franchise had been released and he thought it was a good idea to take you there. It was, in fact. That evening was the first of so many where he couldn't stop falling in love. Funnily enough the franchise announced a reboot a few years later, the premiere being tonight, and that one good old movie theater would be hosting it.

Your smile was growing each time you remembered something about your first date with Yunho. That evening was almost perfect. Almost. There were only two flaws. You admit they were very silly, but it bothered you back then as you really wanted everything to be perfect. The first one being that even though your dress was fabulous, you had nothing to match it with, not even a single accessory. The second one, the back of your dress was ridiculously hard to button up.

However, you felt like this time would be totally perfect. The former problem being resolved by the beautiful jewel adorning your left ring finger, one which matched your dress incredibly well. The latter being solved by Yunho himself, who came to your shared bedroom right when you were trying to close the back of your dress.

"Need any help?"

The smile that came next couldn't be contained, not when you saw your lover helping to get you ready. He also looked the same: gorgeous with a golden personality. That's how lucky you could get, to call a man like him this your husband.

"Seonghwa is already with the kids. We can go right now."

You nodded, not averting your sight from his eyes not even by a mere second.

"So" he said, a mischievous smile on his face. He still had the loveful gaze even after so many years of looking at you "would you like to go out with me? I heard there might be a new movie you'd like."

Masterlist | you'll probably like: paper rings

Thank you for reading <33

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

You know how small children, especially toddlers who just started walking and talking could be, so I'm curious how the turtles would handle their oldest kidd at this age especially since they never got to interact and take care of kids before this. From my personal experience, toddlers can be either innocent and cute little angels or annoying devils who bother everyone in public if they don't get what they want

First Steps or Words (Fluff)

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: I’m not fully sure what you mean with toddlers just having learned to walk and talk, as kids typically take their first step or say their first word during the infant stage, but it could very well be my limited English that is getting in the way here😅 Anyway, in my internship I work with kids in the age group of 3 - 5, so I agree and disagree. Kids have a limited knowledge, both of themselves and their surroundings. Oftentimes they don’t think of how their actions can affect others, which is then my job to help them understand, and at the same time help them verbalize their emotions in a better way. But boy, sometimes the last thing you need is 4 year old that’s crying over something so simple as a toy, even though to them it's their whole world at that moment😭 Enough of that, time for some cute stuff💙❤️💜🧡

Warnings: I already had baby fever before this, so I don’t know if you guys will get it too😭💚

Leonardo:

Never had Leo thought he would get to experience something like this. You and him in your shared bedroom, relaxing after a long day of working, with little baby Romeo smiling and giggling in the bed, kicking around in his little onesie. Your son had been a giggling delight all day, making all sorts of sounds from his play pen, almost distracting you, Leo and the first of the turtles in your work, building to extend the lair so that there would be space for your growing family.

Recently, Romeo had learned of a new sound to make, showing it off proudly with or  without a crowd to watch or hear him. Pressing his lips together with his tongue poking out, Romeo would blow out air, creating what sounded like a fart noise, with bubbles of spit forming where the air came out.

This was nothing new to you, having seen many human babies do things like that, either on the internet or in real life. You didn’t find it any less cute however, you had just known that Romeo would start doing it at some point. Leo however, was totally mesmerized. He had never seen nor heard a baby make noises like that, even though he watched hundreds of baby videos after the day he learned you were pregnant. But nothing prepared Leo for how fast it was going. In less than a year, Romeo had gotten from this little emobile green bean with big staring eyes, to this little bundle of loud noises and kicking limbs. Leo’s heart swelled, and as he watched Romeo kick around on your shared bed as you and Leo was cleaning up for the night, Leo couldn’t stop himself from hovering over your son, nuzzling his beak against his little stomach, causing the young boy to let out a high pitch scream of laughter. Leo lifted his head from Romeo’s stomach, looking down at his smiling son as he pressed his lips together around his tongue, kicking his legs as he made the noise he had been making for the last few days.

“Bbrrrrrrr”, Romeo let out, small bubbles forming around his mouth, making it impossible for Leo not to smile.

“Bbbrrrrrrrr”, Leo said back to your son, the small child laughing at his mimicking, reaching out for him, his small hands touching Leo’s face.

“Is daddy being silly?”, you asked in a baby voice, smiling with a chuckle as Romeo continued his small sounds, only for Leo to say them back to him. Romeo let out a high pitched shriek with a big smile, holding on to Leo’s face as his bright small eyes started at him. You wouldn’t help but smile as you watched the two of them, feeling warm throughout your body. It was wonderful to see Leo be so calm and loose around his child. He was truly at peace. “I think daddy’s being silly”, you teased, causing Leo to poke his tongue out at you as Romeo rambled on.

“No, daddy is having fun”, he said, turning his attention back towards the rambling Romeo.

“Brrrr, ba, babababa, dadadadada”.

You and Leo stared at each other in shock. Did you hear right? Did Romeo just say what you thought he said? All of your questions were soon answered when Romeo reached out for Leo once more, continuing his newly learned word.

“Dadadada”.

“That’s right!”, Leo exclaimed, picking up the happily screaming Romeo. “I’m dada! I’m your dada! Did you hear that mama?! He said dada!”

Raphael:

There was nothing more entertaining than watching Joan crawl around the floor, trying to get from one place to another, closely following behind either you or Raph as you walked around the lair. With her small arms and legs and what you could only describe as a happy battle cry, she tried to keep you the best she could, soon gaining very strong leg muscles that could push her around the floor with ease. It was just a matter of time before she would start walking, and Raph was more than ready for that.

Everyday, Raph watched Joan intently, waiting for the moment she would start walking around on her small legs. He was fully intended to see her first steps, especially after having heard Leo complain more than once that he wasn’t home to watch his own son’s first steps. Raph wouldn’t make the same mistake. He would be there with a front row view when his first born started walking. But so far, she had only been crawling or sitting on her but, screaming loudly before following people around.

But Raph never once gave up hope, continuing to watch Joan each and every day, for the moment she would start carrying herself around on only two limbs. Which was one of the many reasons why he now sat on your shared bedroom floor on Joan’s playmate, with the young child between his legs, hoping that she would support herself on him and start walking. You sat on the bed, watching them with a smile, feeling your heart swell as Raph baby talked with your daughter.

You could have stayed there and watched them for hours, had your parents not called, asking about the next time they could come and visit you and Raph, and see their adorable little granddaughter. Therefore you stood up with your mother on the phone, heading towards the living area, in order to hear the other turtles and their partners, if they were okay with your parents coming over that following weekend.

And just like any other time, when either you or Raph stood up around little Joan, she looked in your direction, let out a high pitch sound before following you, supporting herself on Raph’s legs. Raph held his breath, waiting for the moment Joan would let go, and follow without anything supporting her. But as soon as she let go of Raph, she fell to her knees and started crawling for the door.

Raph chuckled, only slightly disappointed that Joan didn’t walk, but highly amused by her determination. “Don’t worry sweetpea”, he said. “Mommy will be back in just a moment”.

Joan sat back on her butt, looking at Raph for a moment with her fingers in her mouth, before she let out another sound, crawling back towards him. Or that was what Raph thought she was going to do. As she placed her hands on the ground, just like she usually did when she crawled, she did not start to move forward. Instead she used them to push herself off the ground, before wopling on her own two feet.

Raph let out the biggest shriek you had never heard, making you stop and turn in the living area, your mother still on the phone. Flailing around on the ground with his arms open, as if to tell her to come to him, Raph called out for you. “Babe! She’s walking! (Y/N)! She’s walking!”

You almost fell back into the room at the sound of Raph’s shriek, almost forgetting about your mother on the phone, not hearing her concerned questions, fearing that the roof was falling down on top of Raph and Joan. So did you for a moment, not registering the words Raph had yelled, but the sight of Joan taking small hesitant steps towards Raph was almost enough to make you fall to your knees with your arms open as well.

“Mom!”, you yelled into the phone, turning on the camera so she could follow along. “She’s walking! Joan’s walking!”, you continued to yell, capturing the moment Joan walked straight into Raph’s arms with a bright smile.

Donatello:

Have you ever seen a baby get mad, when they can’t do the things people around them can? Well, that was Galileo when it came to walking. Watching his parents, uncles, ants, grandparents and cousins walk, while he was stuck on the floor was enough to make him angry, supporting himself on everything, trying his best to walk on his own. But it was the same story every time. As soon as Gali let go of whatever he was holding onto, he fell to the ground with a sad and angry expression. He wanted to walk!

You and Donnie did your best, lending him a helping hand whenever he wanted to walk, feeling pure happiness when you saw the big smile upon his face and heard his loud happy noises. But there were times where you couldn’t help him, or walk him in circles around the living area for hours. But Gali wanted that. He wanted to walk so bad, almost to the point where he got hysterical when he was tired. So you and Donnie did what you could do and helped him practice, enjoying his laughter and smile and how it brightened your world up.

One day, you and Donnie found yourselves sitting in the middle of the living area, sitting on the floor in front of each other with your legs out scratched. You held Gali’s hands in yours, his infectious laughter making both you and Donnie break out in bright smiles as you watched your son stand on his wobbly legs, holding onto you in order to stay up.

“Come on, Gali”, you said, fighting not to break into another fit of laughter. “Go over to daddy”.

You slowly guided Gali forward with the help of your arms, Gali laughing all the way, even as Donnie took his hands from yours, helping him all the way into his embrace.

“Hey, big boy!”, Donnie smiled, causing Gali to throw his head back in further laughter. It was adorable. Donnie held Gali close in a hug, looking at his hysterically laughing son, taking off his own glasses in order to rub his eyes, that had glossed over in tears due to his own laughter. “I’ll never get enough of this!”

“Imagine how much he will laugh when he can walk on his own”, you said, massaging your cheeks as they started to hurt from all that laughing.

“I can’t wait to find out”, Donnie said, turning Gali back towards you, holding him by the sides. Still smiling wide, Gali looked back over his shoulder, smiling at Donnie, a little bit of drool running from the side of his mouth. “Go to mommy, Gali. It’s mommy’s turn”.

Gali started laughing again, his legs giving out under him, letting him fall down into Donnie’s lap. However Gali kept laughing, causing Donnie to hide his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking from his own chuckles.

Gali stopped laughing, and grabbed onto Donnie’s arm, pulling himself up on his feet. Donnie quickly recovered, ready to hold on to his son once more, only to find that Gali had already taken a few steps away from him, still holding onto his arm. And then Gali let go. Both you and Donnie expected him to fall to the ground, followed by loud crying, but that did not happen. Instead Gali continued to walk towards you, laughing and screaming happily as he did so, before almost falling into your arms, you and Donnie staring at each other in shock.

“Gali’s walking!”, Donnie exclaimed, as if he did not fully believe it.

“He is”, you said, letting go of your young son, only for him to walk back to Donnie with more happy screaming.

“You’re walking!”, Donnie yelled excitedly, lifting Gali up for a bear hug, the young boy screaming and laughing all the way.

Michelangelo:

Nothing could beat mornings like this. You and Mikey in the kitchen with Sunny in her high chair, eating alone together before the rest of the family woke up. Who would have thought that you and Mikey ever would become morning people? Well, neither you nor Mikey, but then you gave birth to a daughter that tended to rise with the sun every day, and there was nothing that would make her go back to sleep. But both of you had to admit it was nice, sitting just you three in the kitchen, engaging Sunny in small conversation, her small sounds and her finger that kept pointing everywhere with curiosity, without the rest of the family around. It wasn’t because you didn’t want the others around, no not all, but because when Mikey’s brothers and their partners woke up, then so did their toddlers. And as much as you loved your nephews and niece, it was nice with some time only for your little family, enjoying your early breakfast together.

Once all of you had finished eating, you would stay in the kitchen for a moment, waiting for the rest of the lair to wake up. During those moments, Mikey tended to take Sunny out of her highchair and set her on his lap, letting her play with his hands, the tails of his bandana, or whatever caught her wandering attention that morning. And today it was his thumb, her small fingers holding onto it as she made all the sounds she could think of.

“Mmmmm”, Sunny hummed, her small hands grabbing onto Mikey’s thumb, before putting it into her mouth with a small grin. “Mmmmmm”.

“Do you think she’s about to say her first word?”, Mikey asked, wiggling his thumb a little, making Sunny giggle. “I think she’ll say her first word today”.

“Yesterday you thought she was going to say her first word”, you smiled, chuckling at the drool that dripped from her mouth.

“Mmmmmm”, she continued, her bright blue eyes looking up at her father.

“What’s that?”, he asked, bouncing his leg slightly, making her giggle once again. “Are you about to say mommy?”

You rolled your eyes. For the past few weeks, Mikey had tried and tried his best, wanting Sunny’s first words to be your parental title. And why exactly? Well, because Mikey thought you deserved it. You gave birth to her, so at least her first words could be mommy.

“Mikey, she isn’t going to say mommy”, you said with a smile, shaking your head at your husband.

“Bet”, Mikey said, lifting Sunny up so that she was standing on his thigh with both his hands under her arms. “Come on, Sunshine, say mommy”.

“Mmmmmm”.

“Mikey”, you said in a teasing warning.

“Mmmmmm”, Sunny continued.

“Nono babe, she almost got it”, he said, his eyes never leaving her small face. “Come on, Sunny, say mommy. I know you can do it”.

“Mmmmm”, she said one more time, and then, suddenly. “Mikey!”

Mikey stared at Sunny in confusion while you broke out in laughter, Sunny giggling in the way she always did.

“No, no, Sunshine”, Mikey said with a chuckle of disbelief. “I’m daddy, not Mikey”.

“Mikey!”, she said with a big and bright smile, giggling even more at his confused expression. This was definitely not what he had expected, nor did he fully know how to react. But for a long time afterwards, no one was allowed to call him Mikey, until Sunny started calling him daddy.

[totalswag]

all grown up — DREW STARKEY

authors note first off, thank you so much for 100 followers. this was a request from raye, i hope you like it!! ps, i had trouble finding pictures that can fit this fic so these are the pictures i could find, please don't come at me lmao.

summary your daughter going to preschool for the first time and drew and you don't know how to control yourselves because your little girl is growing up but drew is having a harder time accepting it because he cares for his little girl so much.

warnings none just a lot of sweetness and crying 🥹

As a parent, taking your child to school for the first time is filled with a lot of emotions. You want to make sure your child is going into an environment where they’ll have fun, make new friends, and be safe.

It takes eight minutes to get to school. Drew was driving with one hand on the steering wheel and the other softly caressing your hand, while Tatum sat in the back seat staring out the window with her teddy bear in her lap.

“Are we there yet?” Tatum asked softly.

“Almost princess,” Drew answered.

Tatum mumbled underneath her breath, you couldn’t understand what she was saying.

You shed a few tears when you arrived, but you wiped them away because you didn't want to overwhelm Tatum.

"I want to hold your hands," she says, raising both hands in a grasping manner.

Drew and you exchanged glances, giggling at your daughter's request.  

Drew was ready to cry and let it all out just by looking at him. In a public setting, he is great with controlling his emotions. You walked into your shared bedroom the night before to find him on the phone with his mom, crying over Tatum. Drew crying is rare unless it’s something serious.

To be real, you watched home videos of when Tatum was just a baby and balled your eyes out the whole time without knowing Drew stood by the door with his arms crossed.

This morning Drew felt a wave of emotions hitting him all at once again. He doesn’t want you to let you know how much he wants to cry but he has mentioned plenty of times how happy he is of his little princess entering preschool and is growing up so fast.

It was simple to find your way through the school hallways to Tatum's class. The door was open for the kids and their families. The classroom was nicely designed and provided everything a preschooler needs. Tatum grip Drew's and your hands more tightly as you walk around the classroom.

You smiled and pointed to the desk with her name on it, "This is where you'll be sitting."

Tatum slowly releases your hands as you crouch down to look at her. Drew helps her in taking off her backpack and setting it on top of her desk. 

While Drew helped Tatum, you scanned around the classroom, admiring how the teachers made things appear so enjoyable for these kids, who were still crouched. You make eye contact with a young woman wearing a name tag, whom you assume is one of Tatum's teachers. 

"Hello, it's nice to meet you, you must be Tatum?" The young woman smiles and extends her hand. "My name is Miss Eva, and I'll be your teacher this year," 

"What do you say, Tatum?" Drew nudges her softly, whispering.

"Hello, my name is Tatum Starkey," she responds then hides her face in Drew’s neck. 

Drew kisses her head and runs his left hand up and down her back.

Drew and you shake the young woman's hand and introduce yourselves. 

Miss Eva explains to Drew and you about the class and what she and the other teachers will be doing to keep this preschool year fun for the kids. 

Drew kept Tatum close to him, making you want to cry for the two. Drew and Tatum's relationship is unbreakable. His entire life changed for the better the instant she entered the world. He will do anything to protect her.

After Miss Eva walked away, Drew and you told Tatum to walk around the classroom and find a friend to play with before the class starts. 

“I’m so sad, I don’t want her to feel upset the whole time she’s here” you sigh, leaning your head on Drew’s arm.

“Me neither” Drew’s body was tense. You patted his chest to comfort him.

Drew felt like he could break down and cry right now. But, he kept the crying for the car. 

You two watched your little girl walk around the room with her arms in front of her body. She looks at one girl playing with baby dolls in the corner, she walks over, and sits beside the girl. The young girl gives Tatum a kind smile, handing her a baby doll to play with. The two start giggling. 

“The class is about to start, we should get going” you announce, checking the time from your watch. 

“Tatum can you come over here for a second” you call her over, she places the baby doll down, and walks over with a smile.

“That's my new friend, her name is Bella.”

"That's lovely to hear, my sweet girl," you say, trying not to choke, "me and daddy are going to leave because we aren't supposed to be here the whole time." Her bottom lip quivers, and her eyes begin to water. 

"Please don't cry unless you want mommy to cry," you chuckle as you take her hand in yours.

Tatum hiccups, "I don't want you guys to leave me."

You look at Drew with tears forming in your eyes, he nods and makes Tatum look at him.

"Princess, listen to daddy right now; you'll see us in a few hours, and when we pick you up, we'll get you some ice cream to celebrate your first day of preschool." "You'll have so much fun with your new teachers and make so many friends," Drew assures Tatum as he tucks her front strands of hair behind her ear.

When Drew said the word "ice cream," Tatum's eyes lit up. 

"Be good for mommy and daddy, please."

"I will, I love you," she says as she pulls you both into a group hug.

You each kiss her on the cheek and exit the classroom. Her gaze never leaves your figures. She blows you two kisses, like she always does. It’s her way of saying, I love you.

The moment you got in the car you started crying.

Drew gently held your hand as he looked at his wrist, which was a bracelet Tatum made for him. Drew felt a tear fall across his lap. He couldn't stop thinking about how his little princess had grown up. He is grateful to be able to call Tatum his daughter. 

"I love you, Y/N," Drew says when you raise your head from your lap.

He's crying. 

"I love you even more, Drew," she says, leaning over to hug him.

"She's growing up, and we have to accept it," you whisper in his neck, and he nods, crying.

"She's my whole world."

You two have another five minutes together before heading back home to relax.

taglist 🧚🏼‍♀️

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @ikisscline @brooklynscherry-z

[bangfantanfic]

Our Own World: Chapter 12.

Warnings: Possible mentions of stalkingand yandere behaviour.

tags; @miss-jupiter @imagine-forlife @blaaiissee @millenniumspec @toughbook @darkuni63 @badbyeyoongi @iloverubberduckiez-blog @missseoulite @singukieee @potterbrooke @suhappysuho @doublebunv @sevenpersona @blancflms @childfmoonn @caffeineandreveries @cryingpages @gato-dumbo @xicanacorpse @devilzliaison

A/N; I am alive! Thank you all for being so patient, life has been life-ing and I cannot say it's been enjoyable lmao. I hope this update is okay, please let know! I am also currently going through Our Own World and my other works editing everything! So there may be some changes, so please bare with me while everything is a bit messy. If you would like to be removed or added to my taglists please let me know <3

Being holed up in Jimin’s room had surprisingly been a nice refresher. The only person coming and going from the room had been Jimin, taking clothes to his roommates, bringing fresh clothing to you, and meals whenever they were ready. He spent nearly every second glued by your side, chatting away like he had known you his entire life. He had millions of questions, wanting to know every intimate detail about the life you lived before finding yourself stuck here, although he worded it much nicer. 

In turn, you asked Jimin a million and one questions. You asked about his life, what it was like living with your brother, did he have hobbies, and of course, questions regarding life as a hybrid. You hadn’t ever spent much time around normal animals despite the never-ending line of pets your parents bought home, and so obviously hybrids were a whole new ballgame. Jimin had been thrilled by your interest, answering every question in length and always making sure you understood everything. The hybrid had shown you so much patience and care, more than you had expected or ever even experienced before. It had been a shock and left you feeling embarrassed and ashamed of the way you had behaved around them all. 

Growing up, despite your parents' interest in hybrids, they never got any. Nobody you knew had hybrids— well obviously other than your brother but his ownership over them had been a surprise! You had very little knowledge of them, only what you had learned through the media, which even you should have known wasn’t the most reliable source at times. All your information, the knowledge you thought you had? Useless. You may as well have watched Fox News all your life. Thankfully, Jimin didn’t seem to mind your lack of knowledge, in fact, he seemed thrilled to share everything he could with you. The two of you had started to form a surprising bond. 

For the first time in almost a week, you woke up alone. It had left you feeling strangely disappointed. The first night you had spent in Jimin’s shared bedroom, he had insisted you sleep in his bed, and you both had bickered for a ridiculous amount of time until you caved in. By the second day, he had rejoined you in his bed, being careful to keep his distance. It was sweet. By day four you were waking up to Jimin curled up around your body, his nose buried into your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. Strangely enough, you weren’t bothered by the skinship. Your skin didn’t crawl at his touch, even the gentle brushes of his tail on your calf. It was almost comforting. Jimin had picked up on the change in attitude toward touch, slowly amping up his skinship. 

But it was strange to wake up to the disturbed routine you had so briefly experienced. Usually, you woke up before Jimin, the fox hybrid stayed up later than you and slept in longer. Today was different. Deciding to shrug it off, you rolled across the bed blindly reaching for your phone on the bedside table. The blinding white light from your screen caused the device to slip from your hands for a moment before you recovered from temporary blindness. Speedily scrolling through the notifications on your lock screen, your thumb froze upon noticing a familiar name. 

HY- U free today? Was thinking about going on a walk… u interested? 

Staring at the words, rereading, and then reading one more time, you threw the blanket off your body, throwing yourself upward. You still texted the man from the grocery store, Hanyoon, nearly every day, unfortunately, you hadn't run into him again since your first meeting. Covid’s lockdown rules had thankfully finally started to ease up. Whilst masks and international travel still hadn’t gone back to normal, you were allowed to roam the streets again... Exercising for a few hours outside of the house in the neighborhood you lived in was encouraged. Getting out of the house was just what you needed, even if it was with a man you had only met once. Keeping yourself cooped up like this was crazy, of course, it was. Jay wasn’t able to return anytime soon, and just because Hoseok and Jeongguk had scared the shit out of you, it didn’t mean you should close yourself off to the others who hadn’t done anything wrong. A day out was exactly what you needed to clear your head. 

Y/N- sounds great! Whenever you're ready :)) 

Dropping your phone back onto the mattress, you stumbled out of the bed, ankle snagged in one of many blankets that Jimin kept all over the bed. You made a quick mental note to fix his bedding when you got back. Digging through the pile of your dirty clothes that had been shoved behind the door, you found a decent enough outfit. Sure, you could go to your bedroom but the fewer stops the better. If you could avoid alerting the whole house of your departure that would be ideal. 

You were thankful for the one sink in the ensuite that still worked, getting to quick work brushing your teeth. Unfortunately, your hair was disgustingly greasy, but with no time to shower you would just have to steal some of Jimin’s dry shampoo and pray it could fix the cesspool on top of your head. Not bothering with makeup, knowing your unfit ass would sweat it all off, you were quick to ditch your glasses in favor of contacts. Deeming yourself presentable for the public, you quickly grabbed your phone from Jimin’s mattress. Hayoon’s contact alerted you to his arrival at the park nearby. 

To your complete surprise, you managed to make it out of the house without a single soul making an appearance. If you didn’t know any better, you would have assumed the house was empty. Knowing better than to test your luck, you had been quick to slip into your sneakers by the door, taking off down the driveway. Despite enjoying Jimin’s companionship the past week, you craved normal human interaction. Jimin was a sweetheart, but there was something that lingered under that sweetness that often left you feeling uneasy. It could just be you overthinking, subconsciously comparing him to his two packmates that had spooked you, but you weren’t going to completely ignore your gut. You had learned to be better than that. 

“Y/n!” 

A grin pulled at your lips as you locked eyes with Hayoon, your legs picking up pace to meet him faster. Hayoon looked good, dressed in loose black shorts and a baggy white tee. His hair which had been completely buzzed off the first, and last, time you saw him had started to regrow. Thick dark hair had started to flower across his head, making you wonder what kind of style his hair had been before it had been shaved off. 

“Hayoon, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting?” You asked sheepishly, keeping a little space between your bodies. 

He waved you off, smiling down at you. You forgot how tall he was, definitely an inch or so taller than Namjoon. You weren’t short, in fact, you were considered tall for a woman in your country, but Hajoon made you feel tiny, something you couldn't say happens often. 

“Nah, I haven’t been here long.” He assured you, gently bumping into your shoulder as he started to walk along the dusty path. The crunch under his shoes finally jolted your legs into gear after what seemed to be a moment of short-circuiting when the skin of his arm brushed against yours. 

The sun felt amazing on your skin, something you never thought you could say. Even the gentle breeze didn’t bother you. It was still early, the only other people in the park being an elderly couple walking with their arms linked up ahead. Despite how warm it already was, the couple were dressed in thick coats as if braving the city's harsh winter. Watching the way they interacted so freely with one another warmed your heart, they seemed so in love. Growing old didn’t seem as scary if you did it with someone you loved. 

Hayoon must’ve been watching the same scene as you, a soft smile on his lips as he admired the affectionate couple ahead. A comfortable silence had settled over the two of you rather quickly, and you were grateful. Something you liked about Hayoon was how easy it was with him. There were no forced conversations, no bitterness over slow responses. There were many similarities between the two of you, making it almost effortless to keep any conversation going. Any differences were discussed, debated, and settled. Those differences weren’t drastic, nothing that could end the bond that slowly was forming. 

A sound of disgust broke your thoughts, Hayoon’s eyes were still looking toward the elderly couple, only now a third person had appeared. A short woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties had been walking in front of them and now separated off to the left with her arm linked with the elderly woman, the two admiring a shrub of flowers. The short woman had pretty honey-colored hair with ears of the same color poking out– a hybrid. 

Hayoon looked down at you, an apologetic look on his face. His tanned cheeks had a cute pink flush to them. “Sorry– I didn’t mean to.” He stumbled over his words, his cheeks going brighter in embarrassment. 

“Not a fan?” You laughed, glancing back toward the elderly woman and her hybrid. 

Hajoon snorted, shaking his head. He kept quiet as you approached the trio, waiting until a good distance had been made before he answered your question. 

“It’s just.. Weird?” He sighed, his thick brows pulling together. “It’s not natural.” 

Humming, you found yourself agreeing. Hybrids were a strange concept, you found it incredibly difficult to understand why anyone would go out of their way to warp genetics in such a way. What was the real reason for creating such a mess of DNA? Only to ban them twenty years later? What was the reason for banning them? They were a hot commodity, every facility selling out within weeks, the waitlists being years long. The money the government had made from their creation had been staggering, and yet twenty years later facilities were shut down and forced to stop producing. The last few generations were sterilized, and the older generations were also encouraged to be as well. The government was trying to completely erase their creations without an explanation. As anyone could imagine, it didn’t go down well with the public. Hybrid trading has become a huge issue over the last few years, with huge rings being found and shut down every few days. 

What about Jay’s hybrids? When exactly did he get them, and where from? They were all born before the ban, that much you knew. So maybe he got them legally? Did he follow the government's advice, suggesting (demanding) to have all hybrids sterilized? Jay seemed to want to hide the fact that he owned hybrids, was it because of how many he had? Maybe there was a limit on how many hybrids a person could own that you weren't aware of. Seeing the elderly couple out with their cat hybrid, not a concern in the air, had you confused as to why the seven back home were kept under lock and key. Was it because of their breeds? They were all exotic animals, the laws might apply differently to different breeds. After the ban on hybrids, many laws shifted, and still to this day they are constantly changing, it is difficult to keep up to date. 

The topic of hybrids and Hayoon’s opinions on them piqued your interest. You were still clueless on the topic, no matter how much research you did into it you still felt uneducated on it all. Hayoon had been an excellent source of information, leaving you almost speechless on how much he seemed to know about them. If there was one thing you admired about the man, it was how educated he was on all topics. He always made sure to have himself as well informed as possible before making an opinion, he was a pool of knowledge. He never looked down on you for things you didn't know or understand and explained things as many times as you needed. It reminded you of Namjoon. 

A knot of anxiety pulled at your stomach. Had they noticed you were gone? Were they upset... Maybe you should have told someone, or at least left a note. You know Namjoon has a shitty old phone that's shared amongst the group, but you never bothered to get the number for it. You hadn’t seen a need for it, the only time you had spent away from any of them was to go get groceries. A part of you also just didn’t want them to have your number, the thought of them being able to contact you in the only time you had alone was distressing. Quickly shrugging off your concerns, you turn your attention back to Hayoon who had thankfully not noticed you spacing out. 

They’re fine, they’re grown men, and they can live without you for a few hours. 

“She’s gone!” 

Namjoon slammed his laptop shut, glaring up at Jimin for bursting into the bedroom he was temporarily residing in until Y/N was ready to go back to her own. 

“Have you forgotten how to knock?” He snapped, earning a frustrated hiss from the young fox. 

“Are you deaf!” He shot back, tugging at his hair. “Y/N is gone, I can’t find her anywhere!” 

Jimin’s panic was already distressing enough, the emotion suffocating the room the longer he stood in the doorway, but the anxiety that flooded his nerves was enough for him to feel bile rising in his throat. Namjoon had heard one less heartbeat when he woke up late this morning, but he had pinned it down to either one of the boys had gone walking at the back of the property, somewhere too far for his hearing to pick up, or Jeongguk was sleeping so deeply that his heart had slowed to almost nothing again– a common occurrence when the snake hybrid had a late night. The possibility of it being your heartbeat missing hadn’t even crossed Namjoon’s mind. You had been locked away in his bedroom for some time now, nobody but Jimin had seen you, and nobody would have suspected you leaving. The smell of your fear still lingered upstairs, Jimin would herd everyone downstairs before you would agree to go use the upstairs bathroom to shower. Going as far as making Jimin stand guard on the door until you were done. When did you lose that anxiety? 

Ripping the blanket, Namjoon’s laptop hit the floor as he jumped off the mattress. “Where have you looked?” 

“I’ve been through the yard, the kitchen, our bedroom, and all of downstairs. I haven’t checked Jeongguks room, I was on my way–” 

Namjoon was speeding down the hallway before the fox could finish his sentence. This was a new kind of fear he had never experienced before, his throat closing up and his eyes burning. His lungs were on fire, struggling to keep up with how quickly he was breathing. At the end of the hall was Taehyung and Jeongguk’s room, the door shut and only the sound of one heartbeat fluttering peacefully. Had you found your way into their room? Maybe you had gotten lost and ended up in the wrong bedroom? These things happen all the time! He’ll open the door and you’ll be curled up in someone's bed, and the crisis will be averted. 

With the force that Namjoon pushed open the door, he almost fell flat on his face. Stumbling into the room, his eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, squinting as he took in two groggy men peeking out from their blankets. 

“Hyung, what the fuck?” Jeongguk groaned, his heart going from nearly stopped to racing. 

“Well, is she there?” Jimin huffed, shoving past his leader to look for himself. To his great disappointment, the room held no signs of you ever being there. Cursing, Jimin shoved past Namjoon, his usual gratefulness replaced with clumsy heaviness. 

“What’s his problem?” Taehyung whined, pulling his blanket over his head to shield himself from the brightness of the hall. 

Namjoon, for the first time in his life, couldn’t find words. You’re not here. There are seven heartbeats, not eight. The knot in his stomach tightened, the bile in his stomach rising higher and higher. When did you leave, how long has it been? Your car is still here, you couldn’t have gotten far. How didn’t anyone hear you leave? A house full of hybrids and not a single one heard you get up and out the front door? 

Impossible. 

“Did you hear anyone leave the house this morning?” He asked as calmly as possible, the shake in his voice far more noticeable than he would have liked. Both grunted out no’s, begging the elder male to close the door. 

It was Jeongguk, finally ripping the blanket off his head ready to start a war over the damned door still being open, that noticed Namjoon’s pale sweaty skin. He looked like he was about to projectile vomit. Frowning, the snake hybrid slinked out of bed and heaved his tired body toward his sickly leader. Pressing the back of his cold hand against Namjoon’s forehead, he sighed in relief. He wasn’t running abnormally hot, so it wasn’t a fever or some kind of sickness. Even with his less advanced hearing, he could still hear the erratic beating of his hyung’s heart. 

“Joonie, you okay?” He murmured, his hand cupping the back of the man's neck as he tried to get closer to assess him better. “You don’t look so good…” 

The concern in Jeongguk’s usually smug tone had Taehyung flying into a sitting position, his hair standing in every possible direction. His puffy eyes zeroed in on his pack leader, his brows pulling together in concern. 

“Is he sick?” 

Jeongguk shook his head, keeping his eyes on the wolf hybrid. Gently squeezing at the muscle in his neck, the snake hybrid was starting to get antsy. “Hey, come on. Talk to us, we can’t help if you don’t tell us what's wrong.” He cooed, the money hybrid making a sound of agreement from behind. 

Namjoon’s tongue pressed against his cheek, his eyes going glassy. He couldn’t get his tongue to work, he couldn’t get himself to say the words his packmates needed to hear. How could he admit to everyone that he had lost you? He could hear Jimin tearing through Jay’s room downstairs, Hoseok and Seokjin hot on his heels trying to calm the younger man down. They didn’t know what was happening either, nobody else had figured it out. 

“We can’t find Y/n.” 

[minkkumaz]

EVIL

there was never truly escape from leehan, his sweet words stringing the perfect crash landing for you to stay with him. but every passing second you could see the imaginary horns growing from his head. it wasn't you that was evil.

❛❛ loving you was lethal, guess that makes me evil ❞

PAIRING kim leehan x fem!reader SETTINGS lovers to exes. toxic leehan. angst no fluff. manipulation. gaslighting. cussing. biting. mentions of blood. WC 1.5k

LEEHAN WAS A MASTER MANIPULATOR. he always possessed the ability to snake his way back into your life, adjusting his scaly grasp around your waist to keep you still in his arms. you remember the way he smiled tenderly at your sobbing face as all of your little tears were wiped away with the pads of his thumbs. each touch against your blushed cheeks dissolved each memory that had formulated him into a bad person, when he existed as nothing more than the love of your life in the aftermath.

it’s all in your head, a phrase you heard often. and maybe he was right when he sucker - punched you with these words, only making you reflect back to the crazy imagination you had as a kid. because that is what you felt like around him, vulnerable and childish, watching him put your thoughts to bed instead of the other way around. 

there were four unanswered calls in his inbox, as you waited impatiently in your shared room with an explosion of butterflies fluttering gracelessly in your stomach. you dialed a fifth time, listening to the sound of ringing be interrupted by the same voice.

your call has been forwarded to an automated voice message system, eight, two… is not available.

being left completely in the dark by leehan was not uncommon behavior, feeling the same familiar rush of frustration flooding through your veins. the silence in the room feels suffocating, amplified by the darkened walls and the faint hum of the ceiling fan above your head.

every sound outside makes you jump, hoping it's him finally coming home. your eyes dart to the clock on the nightstand, watching the minutes crawl by painfully slow. nothing holds your attention more than the itching feeling settling in your throat, pangs of anger mixing in your chest. 

when you finally hear the familiar creak of the front door and the heavy sound of the combat shoes you had just bought your boyfriend, you lack any feeling of relief; just the remaining negative emotions that made you feel like you were going to explode. clenching your hands at the sides of your body, you walk down the hallway to greet his tired expression.

as your eyes land on him fully in all of his glory, leehans eyebrows are furrowed and his lips puffy and red. he stares at you with an unreadable expression, almost as if he didn’t expect to see your figure standing at his feet so late in the night. you reached out to put a hand on his bare arm, lacking the leather jacket he had initially left the house wearing.

“what happened to your jacket?” you mumbled, looking up at him.

“don’t know, probably left it somewhere in my friends house.” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, moving his arm away from you to run a hand through the strands of his dark brown hair.

“is that where you were this whole time that you couldn’t even call me back? i’ve been waiting for you, you know.” you scoff, “and i bought that for you, how could you lose it?”

“please just stop nagging me, i had a long day, okay baby?” he almost rolled his eyes, pushing past you toward the bedroom.

a huff leaves your lips as he bumps your shoulder, “what friend was it anyways, i remember most of them being nice enough to at least let me know.” “you wouldn’t know her.” he says lightly, sending what feels like a rock dropping down into the abyss of your gut.

“her?”

“one of my friends friend, it’s nothing y/n.” he groaned, turning around to look at you. “what? do you want to hear that i cheated on you or something? don’t be conceited.”

his words hit you like a slap in the face, the insinuation burning a hole through your chest. "conceited?" you echo, your voice trembling with the sheer effort to contain yourself. 

the room seems to shrink around you, trapping you in another argument with him. you follow him as he strays away into the bedroom, your breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. leehan flops onto the bed with a dismissive wave of his hand, his casual demeanor only fueling the fire inside your heart. 

“this happens every fucking time leehan i just don’t understand.” tears prick at the corner of your eyes, dripping down the sides of your face the harder you try not to let it.

he doesn’t meet your eyes, instead staring up at the ceiling, as if avoiding your gaze could somehow deflect your accusations. "i told you, i was just at a friend's place. nothing happened."

your hands curl into fists at your sides, knuckles white. "it doesn’t matter if nothing happened, you neglected me like i was nothing. all i do is care yet i can never get it through to you" 

"you’re blowing this out of proportion, y/n, this is all in your head. can we just drop it?" he groans, frustration etched on his face. the dismissiveness in his tone is like a dagger, twisting deeper into your already raw emotions.

"i’m supposed to just drop it? how am i supposed to trust you again when you treat me like this?" 

leehan finally looks at your crying eyes, “you can never be content without breathing down my neck, can you?” he stands up to peer over you, letting his hand creep up to grab your cheeks to squeeze your face together, “it is fucking suffocating.”

“no, i never knew what it meant to be content with you.” you seeth between your teeth, only making him squeeze harder.

“don’t be evil, you’re supposed to be my angel, remember?” he took his lies to the grave, playing pretend with the idea you were a picture perfect doll he could fiddle with.

words died on your tongue with your head titled up to face him, feeling his nails dig into the sides of your face. his look flicked from your tear stained skin and your mouth, leaning in to steal a kiss from you. heat rushed to your brain, instantaneously overwhelmed with his act of aggression on your lips.

before you could even think about it, you bit down as hard as you could on his lower lip. he flinched, immediately pulling away from you whilst the taste of metal snuck on his tongue. leehan was a bitter, corrosive thing that constantly left you standing there, feeling utterly alone, but this time you were ready to let go. the raw taste of blood lingers on your lips as you shove him away, your chest heaving with a mix of fear and defiance. he stares at you, shock and rage mingling in his eyes. he touches his lip, wincing as his fingers come away stained with crimson. the silence between you stretches, thick and suffocating, broken only by the ragged sound of your breathing.

“you need to get out leehan.”

"are you out of your mind?" he spits, his voice low and dangerous. the metallic tang of blood sharpens his tone, "you’re really going to do this?

“loving you was lethal, so i guess that makes me evil.” you stand your ground, “i’m not going to keep being mistreated by you.”

leehan’s eyes narrow, "you don’t know what you’re talking about," he snaps, "you’re the one always overreacting, always making something out of nothing."

“my life feels like nothing with you in it, so pack your shit and leave.”

he steps closer, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "you think you can just kick me out? this is my place too."

your own hands were trembling with the intensity of your emotions. "i can’t keep doing this, leehan. i deserve better than living in constant fear and doubt."

the words hang between you as you watch his chest rising and falling with the effort to contain his own feelings. for a moment, you think he might lash out, try to force you back into submission with the sweet words he always strung around your heart. but then he scoffs before turning away from you.

"fine." he mutters, grabbing a bag from the closet and stuffing his belongings into it with sudden movements, "you want me gone? i’m gone. don’t come crying back to me when you realize how much you need me."

you watch in silence as he packs, your heart pounding in your chest. the room feels too small, too charged with the tension between you. he slams drawers and throws clothes into the bag, each angry movement reinforcing the end of your relationship.

when he finally storms out of the bedroom, his bag slung over his shoulder, he doesn’t look back. the front door flings shut behind him with a final, resounding crash, the sound echoing through the empty apartment. an empty aura swarms the room in an instant, everything feeling too real. 

the only sound that breaks the silence is the gentle, rhythmic hum of the fishtank filter, a soft whisper that fills the space with an odd sense of calmness. you turn your head toward the fishtank, the glow from its interior reflecting on the walls. the water’s surface ripples slightly, a result of the steady bubbles rising from the filter. the sound of the bubbling is like a distant memory, a constant that had once been a comforting backdrop to your shared life with leehan.

but it was never really a life if you weren’t sure what it felt like to live. this time, everything was going to be different.

OMI oh my days its been so long since i have actually sat down and written something. i do have a lot of plans but i've been a little caught up with other things. regardless, i'm actually going to go see the trilogy tour soon! so i plan on releasing some portals inspired fics to help me remember some of the songs, because i have been in such a bonedo rut. it feels like an annual summer thing at this point hehe. also not proofread since this is something i kinda just sprung out!

© 2024 minkkumaz, all rights reserved support your writers by reblogging + giving feedback! it is greatly encouraged and appreciated. thank you! → why feedback + reblogging is so important. ~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[redheadspark]

heyyy i hope im not late for requesting for this month's prompt, time has been really tight recentlyyy!! i would like prompt #12 and #16 with benedict bridgerton (do wtv pleases you, however you'd like, whether u wanna combine them or do them separately each prompt has its own imagine)

and thank youu!!❤️

A/N - Sorry this was a bit late, I was with my parents and I never got around to writing this sooner! but I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting!

Taste

Summary - Benedict will forever be your taste tester

Warnings - Just fluff :)

“You ate the last one?”

“You don’t have the proof!”

“It’s clearly on your face!”

Benedict laughed as you scowled at him, though it was not a real scowl.  In a teasing manner, Benedict quickly went to wash his hands in the sink before you would take the hand towel in retaliation.  The sweet smell of the freshly made cookies was still lingering above both of your heads, as well as the tangy scent of the lemons still perched by the sink.  The rest of the kitchen must have looked a mess with flour everywhere and some of the other ingredients askew, but it was not a negative thing.

In fact, you loved it.  Sundays were meant for baking.

You loved to bake, it was something that brought you peace ever since you were a little girl and you baked cookies with your mother.  She had the magic touch in baking and would bake everything and anything.  Cupcakes, muffins, bunt cakes, all and more, she knew precisely how to make it memorable.  Thankfully, you had the same gift and made it your own as you got older and branched out on your own.  You were still working a 9 to 5 job, gathering every single cent you would earn, yet you would save baking for your own time.

Baking was also a good second job for you, almost like a side hustle.  You’ve baked for birthdays, gender reveals anniversary parties, retirement affairs, and even for one funeral.  It was decent money, and once word got out about your baking skills, people were reaching out for you to bake for them.  So money was no longer an issue.

Your main issue was your fiancé, Benedict Bridgerton.

He stumbled into your life by pure accident or fate.  His brother Anthony and sister-in-law Kate reached out to you after hearing about you from a mutual friend, they requested treats for their own gender reveal tea that Anthony’s mother was throwing for them.  They were a lovely couple, the Bridgerton family was well known for their kindness and charitable work, so you took the couple up on their offer. Arranging an assessment of treats, from small cupcakes to large donuts, your dessert table was an instant hit.  Especially with the Bridgerton siblings, all of whom praised you in your desserts and stirring up a conversation with you.

Benedict was instantly smitten with you when he asked about the blueberry lemon cupcakes, and you two have been inseparable ever since.

Being the man that he was, he made your life far more interesting and entertaining.  There was never a dull day with him, which rocked your world and life greatly.  After a few times of dating, you both moved in together and you got the whole scope of who he was.  Although he was an acclaimed artist, he was also a bit messy.  You oddly trip over his shoes every once in a while that was thrown on the floor, his paints and easel seemed to look out of place in your shared bedroom with a bit of mess growing by the minute. Even in the way that he would be so aloof in how he would walk in the apartment as if he was walking amongst the clouds.

You walked in on him stripped down to his boxers at one moment in your kitchen, standing in front of the freezer to get some relief since your AC was not working its best.  You huffed, tossing your work bag on the countertop, and glared at him with your hands on your hips.  It was even harder since you wanted to jump his bones then and there from how he was only in his boxer shorts and leaving nothing to the imagination.

“I know it’s hot but Jesus, put some clothes on!” You scolded him, yet it was short-lived when he slammed the freezer door shut and chased you into the bathroom, you laughed as he helped strip off your clothes and you both went under the cold water together. 

He became a massive supporter of your baking, as well as everything else in your life.  You found him to be kind, insightful in the most unique of times, and an amazing artist.  He made you laugh in both the good and not-too-good times, your voice and advocate when you would have some unruly customers that would try and rip you off, and beyond loving to you when you were hard on yourself. It had to be the Bridegrton touch, something that seemed both magical and rare.  You found yourself far deep with him, which was not scary.  But it was light, light, and seasoned with magic here and there.

He asked you to show him how to bake, which turned out to be more chaotic than you thought.  It wasn’t that he was clumsy or couldn’t work around the kitchen, he could to a point.  But Benedict was still aloof, like his personality, even with flour on his nose and some of the cookies burned from the bottom.  Yet it was still fun to bake with him, he knew how to make the evenings light or the early mornings genuine.  Baking alone was always fun, but now having another person to bake with was even better.

Even one evening in December, he made some freshly baked muffins on a plate to give you as you were curled up in your favorite chair with a book in hand.  But when he placed the plate in front of you, you saw a small velvet box in the middle of the muffins, making you cry as he knelt on one knee.  

Now, in the swelting heat of summer and your wedding coming around the corner in the late fall, you were experimenting with cookie and cupcake recipes that you would use in your reception at the dessert table.  You were a bit stressed about it, looking through plenty of baking books and recipes online to find the right dessert for your big day.  Your fiancé knew you were under a bit of pressure in that department, the rest of the tasks when it came to the wedding seemed not as stressful.  He hoped in plenty of the decisions and booking the vendors, the venue was his mother’s back garden.  

“It was delicious, my love,” he reasoned as he kissed your cheek and you moved a bit of the crumbs that were left on his chin off with a swish of your thumb, “New recipe?”

“I found it online, but I’m not sure if I like it or not,” He explained, dusting off your fingers on your baking apron, “I’m still on a hunt for a good lavender blackberry cake that I want to make for your mother as a Mother-In-Law gift!”

“I’m sure my mother would like anything you bake her, and she does,” Benedict explained as he wrapped you in his arms and tucked you in close, “Whatever you decide to make for our day, it’ll be amazing, just like you.”

He tucked his finger under your chin to lift your lips up to meet his.    Having this small moment, the kitchen semi-destroyed in baking tools and ingredients, in your cramped little kitchen of the apartment you both have been sharing together, it was perfect.  You both had plans for your future after the wedding, wanting to travel together as a newly married couple and see the world past the little town you grew up in.  You wished to take new culinary classes to sharpen your baking skills, and Benedict was going to look for a bigger apartment, even a townhouse, for you two to perhaps grow your family further down the road. 

But for now, for this small moment, you were happy.

Benedict pulled away and smiled widely at you, his bright blue eyes looking even brighter as he found your voice, “How about you and I have a movie night in, and I can order us an extra large, extras cheese pizza along with that bottle of wine Colin and Penelope gave you,”

“Oh, I’ve been. Looking forward to opening that for weeks!  Sounds lovely,” You replied in a hum pecking his lips one more time before he started helping you clean some of the pans and measuring cups.  You were looking forward to this kind of slow Sunday with him, every slow Sunday even, as long as Benedict was at your side. 

Your mother-in-law, Violet Bridgerton, loved her Blackberry Lavender cake you made especially for you, along with the card you gave her with the news of your pregnancy.  

The End

[bellewintersroe]

Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader

part 13 - dramaaaaa y/n gets upset when reading some of the weird comments after a little group holiday goes viral and secrets are starting to be exposed. Little bit of a time jump here, I wanted to get to the nitty gritty parts. Also I realised I accidentally wrote the last chapter in first person instead of third? (Or second I can’t remember wtf each one is) oops!!!! Here’s the LINK to part 12.

warnings: mentions of sex, inappropriate touching (consensual ofc) nothing too graphic, hate?? comments& crying. Mentions of readers and Daniel’s age gap, but again the ages are up to you, I’m going no lower than 22/23 because I feel kinda weird about any younger.

“How are you so tanned, Daniel?!” The almost-as-tanned girl sat down on the Australian’s bare lap. Hence the almost, being from England and from a ginger father, she was always naturally pale and tended to use spray tans to make up for the translucency of her skin.

“It’s called being Australian, baby.” Daniel cheekily grinned, holding her bum cheek and giving it a quick squeeze as soon as she sat. “Yeah, but…” y/n scooted forwards, playing with the strands of his hair. The Ibiza sea had somehow made his hair even curlier, even hers had a beachy wave to it that Daniel thought made her look like a mermaid (as he told her 5 times over). He thought she looked beautiful- he didn’t think she could get anymore beautiful until he saw her bikini cladded, in her natural form, cannon-balling off the side of the yacht they’d boarded for the night.

“You’re like so nice and dark, can’t you give some to me?” His eyes, fell to her chest, the baby pink pushing up the swell of her breasts. He just wanted to nuzzle his face deep inside of- “Daniel…” she warned.

“Right, sorry… yeah, I would if I could.” With his eyes back on her freckled face, she offered him a smile, nudging to leave his lap. Daniel’s hands tightened with a soft, “no.”

“What? You wanna have sex… again?” Her brow perked, Daniel felt hot under her gaze, and he couldn’t deny the semi that was growing in his swimming trunks.

“No- yeah.” He couldn’t even lie. They’d been at it like rabbits, and especially on this yacht, on the deck when nobody was watching, all over the bedroom, in the water (comment if you acc want me to write a smut based off this lmao). She was sore from the amount of action she’d had the past two days, but she wasn’t complaining, y/n just thought she needed to give certain areas of her body a rest.

“Daniel.” She groaned, head dropping on his shoulder. “Can’t help my girlfriends fucking sexy as fuck.” His lips pressed to the inside of her shoulder, at first she was about to shudder from the action, but the specific use of girlfriend threw her into a frenzy of excitement. “Oh, I’m your girlfriend now?” She tried to play it cool, but both of them could hear the giddiness oozing off her voice. “Uh huh… if you wanna be?” Daniel nodded up, a closed mouth smile growing on his face. “Yeah.” A giggle escaped her lips.

“Yeah? I already thought you were, you… sausage.” He teased, bouncing her slightly on his knee. “Mmmmh, whatever.” They shared a loving kiss, one that wasn’t helping Danny’s situation in his pants. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Ok, babe. I’ll get in after you, I’m just gonna go back on deck with the lads for a bit…” The good thing about the pair of them was that they could spend as much time together as possible without getting sick of one another, Daniel felt like she was apart of himself that he’d been missing his whole life- not to sound cheesy. But spending their own time together was so important, and space for y/n felt vital, especially when she wanted to have silent time, scrolling through her tik tok. At least, she thought she wanted some time to herself. Things were going well until a specific video of an overwhelmingly recognisable yacht came up on a video. Her stomach immediately dropped, pictures of her and Daniel, engaging in nothing to explicit, but a few kisses, touches, hugging. Clearly somewhat intimate moments that they kept concealed to the public eye. She swiped furiously, concerned as to what else had been captured. Daniel untying her bikini top, the two of them making out…

Y/n felt her breathing intensify and skin prick with beads of sweat. The comments were what she feared the most- the exploitive pictures were guaranteed to bring unasked controversy.

A mixed response was guaranteed, of course people were shocked, some ecstatic, others doubtful of their age gap. It wasn’t that which bothered her, it was the intruding questions and statements of complete lies and assumptions that rattled her. It didn’t take long for tears to form when people began comparing her to Daniel’s ex’s. Questioning ‘what age’ the relationship started, pointing out insecurities on her body, commenting on their visible intimacy.

Y/n was shaking when Daniel returned into their bedroom. She froze, phone still in hand, automatically turning off her phone as though she intended to hide this from him. “Still in your towel?” He attempted to tease, reaching out to nudge it off her head. The lack of response had him confused, stepping forwards with a slight hesitation.

Daniel questioned if she was crying, before shaking it off, but when she sniffled he was falling to his knees in front of her. “Hey…” he crouched in front of the saddened girl. He reached out, both hands resting on her lap comfortably, feeling a punch in the chest when he caught sight of her tear stained face. “Somebody’s leaked pictures.” She blurted out, voice heavy with upset. Daniel felt his breath hitch.

Without saying another word she handed over her phone, allowing Daniel to see for himself. “Nothing like- really bad, but… I don’t know.” She watched his reaction through the corner of her eyes, using her towel to wipe at her damp eyes.

“Oh, y/n/n.” Daniel sighed. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” She let out a sad laugh. “It’s just- it’s so invasive and the comments-” her voice became choked up once again.

“Ah, babe, you know not to read them. Fuck all that, it’s not even important.” He slung an arm around her, pulling her instinctively into his chest. “Like the most people are fine- but I-i don’t care it’s just the awful ones, Daniel. How have- why has somebody followed us on a fucking boat?” Her torment was something that angered Daniel. Not towards her, but to whoever the fuck stalked them, whoever decided to be a creep and take these pictures of her- not to forget the people who sent spiteful messages.

“People just like to ruin it for their own gain. I’m sorry, baby.” Again, Daniel sighed, feeling a little lost for words as y/n cried quietly in his arms. “Don’t-dont cry, y/n/n. C’mere.” She shuffled further onto his lap, wiping at her eyes in a subtle manner. “Like now my dad has to see that, everybody’s just gonna see and-” her voice cut short to avoid becoming too distressed. Daniel felt the tension that began to grow in his muscles.

“I don’t know.” She managed to exhale after. Daniel pressed a lingering kiss to her head, and squeezed her again. There was a moment of silence which fell between the pair. Daniels mind now began lingering.

“What did they say?” He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help it.

“Just stupid shit.” He was already reaching back for her phone, glimpsing through a few of the weirder comments. “Oh, I can’t even read that shit.”

“Don’t read it then.” She muttered, biting down on her thumb. “Honestly fuck them.” Daniel inhaled, lifting up her cheek. One kiss was pressed to the rounder part of her cheek. A small, angelic kind of smile managed to peak through her sadness, even just for a second or so.

“I love you. So much, nothing in those comments will change that, will it?”

“No.” She agreed, swiping the last of her tears. “I’ll sort it out. Don’t worry.” He then nodded, a slight sense of reassurance filling her. “Are you sure?”

“Positive, baby. I’m not gonna let that slide, not when it’s upset you like this…”

————————————————————————

taglist: @dinodumbass @mccall-muffin @allabouthappiness @benbarneslut @ricciardhoe-3 @headinthecloudssblog @f1wintermoon13 @hrlzy @topguncultleader @victoriaholland @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @j-cat @lovzmez @laneyspaulding19 thankyou guys so much for commenting and following along I appreciate it, I love reading all your comments!!

[ivystoryweaver]

🦸🏽ANYTHING on spectre marc after readers death please and thank you i am prepared for pain🫡

You burrowed in to the dark parts - the broken, unlovable parts and made him your home. You dwelled, willingly, in the dejected, despondent substance of his soul. A soulmate.

Pairing: Marc Spector x f!reader (from my fic Spectre), but can be read on its own Word Count: 430 Content: angst, major character death…maybe?

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

There's a part of Marc that feels more...right when he loses. When he hurts.

See, he knows how deeply flawed he is - certain he doesn't actually deserve love.

This is because he robbed his mother of Randall's love - of her ability to actually love at all.

He destroyed his once happy family

Violence and isolation followed him for the rest of his life, even after Khonshu saved him

Steven and Jake healed him to a degree, made him whole.

Then came you.

But he knew, he always knew that forever with you would exist slightly out of his grasp - there was no way someone as good as you could ever really be his, not eternally.

Still, you loved him so hard, and so good. You burrowed in to the dark parts - the broken, unlovable parts and made him your home. You dwelled, willingly, in the dejected, despondent substance of his soul. A soulmate.

You weren’t there to fix him - you wanted him just how he was, even when he withdrew, when he pushed you away or pulled back. You ebbed and flowed right along with him. He learned to grow with the fluidity of your love.

And god, he adored you. He lived for you. He moved back to the States for you, happily. He cozied up to nosy, small town residents because it made you feel at home. Every time you felt homey or happy or at peace, he felt like he was stacking a building block, restoring the family and the home he once obliterated.

Marriage terrified him. But for you, he wanted to. He saved. He bought you a ring. He almost let himself believe he could have you as a wife.

And right when he thought of how he might propose…when he allowed his dreams to take root in a shred of reality…

…your light was extinguished from the universe.

For no reason at all, you died*. You left.

You didn’t mean to. It wasn’t your fault.

On the day after he buried you, Marc sat down on the floor, in the middle of your bedroom and felt…normal.

He felt the way he’d always been expecting to feel.

This was his life. This was all he would ever have. Ever deserve.

It felt more right to lose. To hurt.

Except...he had begun to believe life with you was more right.

He suddenly had a soul he shared - a mended heart. And a lifetime of love, with no one to give it to.

And that was the moment his heart truly broke.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Ask me anything. Requests are open!

Marc Spector-Centric stories

Moon Knight Masterlist

My Fic Masterlist

*Spectre readers know what actually happened here! 😉

[neetily]

↳ EVENT 09. M!Robin (Jealousy Sex + Yandere)

— ✧ warnings: Yandere, Somnophilia, dubcon, Creampie — ✧ word count: 2,777 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

Appearances are hard to keep up with when he's got you in his life. Though, all things considered, he thinks he's done a pretty good job of keeping your dumb little brain unaware of his true feelings thus far— real self locked away behind nice smiles and sweet platitudes out of necessity. Placating you until it's a good time time to strike, to get his grubby manhandling hands all over every inch of you like he fucking deserves; especially after putting up with you for so long, his whole life as he remembers it to be precise. Childhood best friends turned hopeful lovers.

And yet, he's too late. Despite all of the patient solitary wanting, fist down his pants over your sleeping frame every night, watching, waiting, struggling not to touch your most sensitive parts as you lay unaware, biding his time by instead collecting items of affection from you unnoticed, just so that his selfish self doesn't come on too strongly and accidentally scare you off. Pining in secrecy because his intentions are anything but pure, and you're so fucking innocent to him, God.

Even after all that time of him waiting— you still run off with someone else.

To who? To fucking Whitney, that's who. A shared bully figure, someone so undeserving of your kindness it's almost laughable, if only he didn't need you more than life itself. A slap in the face he intends on returning in kind tonight, sneaking his way to your bedroom early in the morning, when everyone else sleeps— careful of the creaky floorboards, he remembers which one makes the most noise— to show his beloved all about what you've been missing out on. And, selfishly, to express some of his built up frustration and downright hatred he holds for the man you've been seeing behind his back this whole time.

Because he's not as stupid as he's lead you to believe. Tapping into your precious little saviour complex as a means to grow closer to you, feigning innocence in the face of your genuine curiosity, just to play the part of your loving, harmless, childhood best friend. And it's been working, too; that's the worst part. The fact that he was so close to earning his reward, creeping into your room with slow movements so as to not wake you from the obnoxiously old hinges, so close to having you that he can practically taste you as his frame hovers over your own sleeping one.

A regular sight for him, pants already tenting just from huffing the same air as you, holding his breath for a second or two too long just to accurately hear you cutely puff out a few of your own. God, he bets Whitney doesn't appreciate you like this, does he? Bending down, careful not to fuss over you too much because you look just so cute snoozing away like that, hovering his lips mere inches away from your own for the sole purpose of sniffing. Inhaling your delicious scent like it were a drug, and it might as well be from how dizzy with desire his head becomes, cock heavy and dribbling in his pants without even having to touch you.

Does Whitney get the same way with you?

Drooling over your sleeping body, greedy paw magnetic to his cock as he starts to tug on it just from hearing you snore, blissfully unaware but oh, you make such a pretty victim. Of his love, of course. His obsession with the way your chest rises and falls in the moonlight, fat beads of precum rolling down his length, dripping down his balls to leave him feeling all gross and sticky and in love. All pure intentions here, he privately assures you.

Too many countless nights have been spent this way. Yearning for you, craving just a single taste— knowing deep down that the first bite is always the sweetest; hence why he's been waiting so long. Here, have this freshly peeled orange slice, I plucked the section by hand just for you. Except, instead of dipping your orange juice soaked fingers down his throat, Whitney has had the supreme pleasure of tasting instead.

To which he physically cringes at the mere thought of, a full body jerk back, cock throbbing in his pants out of sheer jealousy for where your fingers have been.

He's only here to take back what is rightfully his anyway. What is, and always has been, his claim. Proven by the fact that his cock twitches for you now, how it drools just from being near you.

"Shit..." He curses under his breath, still pawing away at his hard bulge, aimed directly at you. Only the barely audible shuffle of his pyjama pants every time he jerks his cock filling the room besides your own steady breathing. And then, a smile stretched his lips. Wide and toothy at the way you so easily get under his skin, how even just watching you sleep is enough to get his cock rock hard and his balls taut with seed. Wouldn't you agree that this indicates fate? That despite your affair with some bully like Whitney, the fact that he's graciously accepting your unknowing apology means that you're destined to be by his side, right?

"I still love you." Despite your adultery, he continues to smile. Interspersed with rushed gasps and sighs, an honest attempt to keep himself quiet out of fear of startling you— but don't worry. He has a lot more planned for you tonight. Best laid plans that've been years in the making.

Although, he thinks so at least. The reality of the situation dawns on him as you lazily snore that by being this close to you, one wrong move and his lips are touching yours, he can't think straight. Torn between taking things slow like he'd initially premeditated, or— go in for the kill as his prey lays bare.

A split second decision, unable to stick to fully one idea, he goes for a mixed approach. Tip toeing his way to the other side of your bed; it's not the first time he's slept over, and he'll make sure that it won't be the last either, he quietly sneaks under your sheets to snuggle his body next to your. So soft and warm you are, hair tickling his nose for him to huff at. "Fuck," He whispers to himself, fist instinctively wrapped tight around his twitching cock, fighting the urge to brutally flip you onto your tummy and pounding your shape into the bed below as fast as he can. It'd be easier if he took his time, right? Played into the tired role of sweet best friend, his eyes rolling back in spite of his attempts to return to that mindset— he can't help himself when it comes to you.

"S'all you're fault." He continues to whisper, reprimanding your sleeping body in hopes of your dumb little brain subconsciously remembering his actions tonight. "If only— fuck," he accidentally rubs too close to the sun, hips stuttering as his clothed tip brushes against your ass. He has to take a moment to collect himself, seething behind you out of utter frustration, or love? They feel all too similar to him when he's in this state. That is, when he's next to you.

"If only you didn't choose Whitney."

Deciding it's now or never simply because he's leaking profusely inside his pyjamas, surely turning them sheer with the amount of affection he regards you with, he tugs his bottoms down. No underwear to follow, free balling by your side because he wanted to fuck you tonight. Take your first time together while you remain blissfully unaware, in the most pure state you could be in. That's when he likes you best. A soft, unconscious, unwitting participant in his declaration of love. And, if you by chance wake up as he's pulling your panties down, or as he leaks copious amounts of precum onto your pretty ass, or when he gently lifts your thigh up just a little, enough to allow room for his cock to slip between, or when he takes to gliding his red hot and needy cock between your slippery folds— holy fuck, that feels so fucking good, then he's certain that he can reel you back to his side by way of some stupid friendly act. A little pout here, an eager apology there.

Regardless of how you take it tonight, you're getting his cock. He's decided you deserve to know exactly what you do to him, anyway.

The second he comes into actual contact with your untouched by him cunt he halts his breathing. Slipping and sliding along your slit feels better than he could ever have imagined, all those lonely nights spent fisting himself silly over your sleeping face immediately feel wasted. You're telling him that he could've been rubbing his fat cock against your pretty little slit like this all this time, turning your tummy all sticky white rather than your cute kissable face? Shit, he feels doubly cheated now! Silently slithering an arm under your neck for stability, the other hand resting on your hip to lightly squeeze and pinch at to keep himself grounded enough to focus on how unfairly perfect your body feels against his. The feeling of your squishy thighs unknowingly squeezing at his length causing a satisfied sigh to escape him, heart full at the thought of your unaware and naive mind being eager to please him even in your sleep. Meant to be, right?

He'll show you what you've been missing out on. Why Whitney is the lesser of two evils. Why you should break up with your sick little play pretend boyfriend and start dating him instead, like he'd intended on from a very young age.

Because yeah, he's been wanting you ever since he can remember. Humping his fat cock up and down your slick pretty slit at the memories of growing up with you. How you've always be on his mind, number one in his heart. After all this time, he deserves a fucking slice too, dont'cha think?

But fuck if you don't feel better than anything he's ever experienced before, downright ruined his fist for future fucks, determined never to use anything other than your perfect angel cunt from now on. He always knew you'd feel amazing, fucking knew it deep down in his gut. But nothing could have prepared him for how nice it'd feel to simply slip between your folds, to knock his dribbling tip against your clit over n over again just to hear your pretty little sleepy mewls.

A small laugh escapes him at your meek moans, easily hidden between the sound of shaking sheets and your squelching cunt, his eyes squeezed tightly shut to try and determine whether you're more wet from his leaking cock, or because your lewd body just wants him as much as he needs you right now.

So, could you blame him from 'accidentally' slipping into your tight little hole as he thrusts against you? Tip caught on your entrance like a beg for more, all his prayers answered the second he feels your squirmy walls accept and envelope his drooling tip, and swiftly his full fat length when he can't stop his hips from driving forward.

Which must have woke you up, at least a little. A confused mumble falling from your pretty lips as his body stills behind you, cock remaining balls deep and throbbing, pulsing inside your warm little hole with sheer need to fuck you into his shape. Carve out your insides so that no one else but him will ever fit again, made perfect solely for him, yeah?

But, after waiting for what feels like for fucking ever, his whole body shaking under the amount of restraint it takes to not fuck you into next week, he doesn't hear another peep. Feeling your body once again relax in his greedy hold, lust driven mind convinced that you must be giving him consent to continue. Because if not, then what else?

Propping one leg up on his other for better leverage, he digs his greedy fingers into your plush skin. Really dragging his nails against you— not on purpose! God, you just— "Feel so fuckin' good, ah..." he whines to himself, pouting at the back of your head with an internal promise to fuck you better than Whitney ever has; or will, for that matter. Drawing his hips back so torturously slowly that he has to let out a low whine from how desperate he is, hopeless in how much he wants to prove himself to you, needs to fuck you the way you deserve so bad, and fuck when you moan in your sleep? All light and airy, a breathless promise that he's doing good, keep going, he can't do anything other than adhere to your wordless plea. Pushing his hips forward again with a little more speed, and then pulling back a bit faster, and then thrusting into you at a much more satisfying pace— one that already has the bed creaking under the weight of his love for you, cute little cunt hugging his cock so well— fucking bitch. Should have picked him, yeah? Maybe then he wouldn't be trying to mount your ass right now, throwing a possessive leg over your own to more easily hump himself stupid into your tight little hole, the way your walls suck him in further, sucking his tip off just so well, like you were fucking made for it—

And fuck if you don't fucking shut up he's liable to shove his slick coated cock down your noisy throat like you're clearly asking for. Cute muffled moans for him to drink up, his voice coming out breathless and whiny when he reprimands you with: "Havin' a nice dream?" God you must be, from the way your insides gush around his intrusion, bullying his tip as deep as he can to try and reach places Whitney has never touched before. Hoping to stain your insides with his scent to ward off anyone else from getting too close to you, nails dragging your ass back down to meet his every greedy thrust with a wet slap! of his balls against you. Mine, he thinks to himself. Fucking mine, no one else should even think of touching you, right? My pretty pet, my good girl, aren't you? He can feel tension building in his tummy with his thoughts, huffing and puffing above you like some kind of bitch in heat, determined to mark you up from the inside out. So that even if you do wander off again, you'll be so thoroughly dirtied by his cock that no one else will even want to touch you. Wouldn't that be nice? To have you come crying in his arms, upset that no one wants you; except he does. Maybe a little too much given how frantically he thrusts into you now, driven only by his selfish need to breed his pretty girl.

Tight fucking cunt, oh my God. So good for me, doesn't this feel good? Feel better than Whitney, right? Wanna fuck you every night like this, fuck, every morning too. Wanna keep my cock permanently inside your pretty angel cunt as a reminder of who you belong to, who fucking owns her, huh? This pretty fuckin' cunt, who owns her?

"R-Robin—?"

Oh shit, did he say that out loud and wake you? Fuck, he's cumming immediately upon hearing your sleepy voice, coated in shame and misunderstanding, muted by the pillow under your pretty face. He can't stand how cute and drowsy you sound while getting defiled, pounding his spurting cock into you with fat ropes shot directly against your cervix, some of it gushing out of your stuffed hole to stain your bed sheets. Sticky insides still squirming around him as he rides your ass out silently, as if remaining quiet will somehow hide his transgressions tonight. Except, they're not really transgressions, are they?

He's only taking back what was originally his. Making sure you know your place by his side by humping his load deep into your hole even after his orgasm dissipates. Small stutters of his hips, struggled gasps for air after holding it in for so long.

"Morning, love." He sputters, back to his regular chipper self for you, cringing at the way his cock grows sensitive inside of your wanting hole. How it continues to beg for more fucks, coaxing him into circling his hips while pushed all the way to the base inside. "Did you sleep well?"

[quantumhealingava]

Julia Fox

She is a Shravana Sun (gifted) truly, much like Billie Eilish. You can see it in the eyes, that psychic, 'weirdo', 'rejected' 'freak' kid. She talks a lot in her book about feeling 'different' from everyone else, unique and strange. With Shravana natives, we see the gifted child (Harry Potter vibes)

Her Bharani Moon gives her a seductive, hypnotic, sultry, Venusian beauty. She loves fashion, like a typical Venusian, and has a hedonistic, intense, extremist side. We know she was a Dominatrix in her young adult life, which is perfectly in line with sensual Bharani Nakshatra (it's symbol being the literal Yoni)

Her Mercury is in Purva Ashadha, and she does have a very soft, beautiful writing (and speaking) style. Mercury rules over how we speak, write, communicate and think, her mind is beautiful really, and so is her speech.

I can definitely see her sensual Bharani Moon in a lot of photos of her online; lollipops, sugar, ice cream. Venus (Shukra) is oozing out of every pore in her body. She does give off a very seductive energy, and has an intoxicating, Aphrodite-like aura.

Bharani is ruled by Yama, The God of Death, and she does talk a lot in her book about sewersidel thoughts. She overdosed twice. She almost died, she's definitely 'tasted' death. This is in line with Vedic Mythology. This is directly from her book: "My new friends and I hold séances in my bedroom, invoking the spirit of the deceased front man of my favorite band, Nirvana. I tape a picture of Kurt Cobain on my wall and fantasize about dying so I can join him on the other side. “It’s better to burn out than to fade away,” he wrote in his suicide note." -Julia Fox

Her Ascendant is in Ardra Nakshatra (ruled by Rudra, The Storm God, and The Tear Drop), she's lived an extremely traumatic and tumultuous life. She does have a bit of Taylor Swift energy though (Also Ardra influenced), whereby she constantly mentions 'not needing men', and is a radical feminist). Ardra Nakshatra is also very into fashion, due to Rahu here creating obsession and craving, a touch of materialism. (Peep the black and white Fabric - Coco Chanel vibes and the leopard print too!) From her book: "The faces on the missing posters stare blankly back at me. There are so many all stacked on top of one another, each telling a devastating story. At night, I lie in bed and wonder if every plane I hear flying overhead is actually a bomb. I grip my pillow over my ears and brace for impact."

In my humble opinion, she is extremely iconic, and still too underrated. I believe she will continue to grow further into her fame - she's got a very socialite 11th House Moon, (fame, friendships and the spotlight).

Her life purpose (Rahu) is in Shravana (The Moon); a huge part of her destiny in this lifetime was to become a mother. Chandra = Mother / Moon. We know that she writes and talks a lot about her son, and how he changed her entire life and is now her whole world.

A lot of Moon influenced women, Venususians and Rahu girls will fall in love with and greatly look up to Julia Fox. (Shravana + Bharani, Purva Phalguni) as well as many Ardra Natives. Gen Z in particular, I can see a ton of women with those placements feeling inspired by her, feeling like her story is home to them, feeling like they understand her, and she understands them.

Overall, I love Julia Fox and her energy, and just wanted to share this with you all. As a Bharani Sun woman myself, I feel so close to her energetically and spiritually (and I'm sure many of you out there do too!)

[toomuchracket]

scary movies (birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

day 3 of promptober75! this is less about scary movies than it is about the two of them musing on romance. but they do watch bones and all! i don't think there are any spoilers, but don't yell at me if there are please lol this isn't proofread. yeah, this is just a cutely weird little fic about some cutely weird people. i hope you enjoy!

"baaaaaaaabe, hurry up. i miss you!"

you can hear the pout in matty's voice, even from the next room of the hotel suite. picking up the bowl of m&ms in one hand and the open bottle of champagne in the other, you pad back into the bedroom. "how can you miss me? you've been with me the whole day."

"i always miss you when i'm not right beside you, no matter how long it's for," matty replies, sitting up on his knees on the bed to carefully take the bowl and bottle from your hands. the way his stomach muscles shift with the movement makes your knees run the risk of shaking. "the night before our wedding is going to be hellish for me. are you sure we can't just stay together? al green it?"

"baby, it's tradition."

"peer pressure from dead people, you mean."

"fine, another reason, then. oh, here's one - absence makes the heart grow fonder. you can't argue with Classical poetry."

"try me, babe."

you sigh. "matty, sweetheart, love and light of my life, sole occupant of my head and heart… it's only for twelve hours of our lives. and we will literally be on the same floor of the same building. it'll be fine!" 

matty quirks a brow.

god, he's stubborn. you inhale deeply before you talk again. "alright. i'll wait until the bridesmaids are asleep and then we can sneak out together for a walk. but i'm not sleeping with you at all - in either sense, actually - regardless of how crippling your separation anxiety is."

"i can work with that, darling. thank you," matty smiles and leans up to kiss you.

before he can, though, you place your index finger on his pretty lips. "not so fast, healy, i have a caveat: i'll only do it if we can share a cig."

matty rolls his eyes, and nudges your finger from his face with a quick head movement. "should've seen that one coming. christ, fine. one cigarette, and that's it. don't want any rattling coughing fits during our vows."

you giggle, leaning down to kiss him; the speed with which his face softens afterwards is comical, almost cartoon-like. "thanks, angel."

"mmm, can't wait to marry you," matty murmurs against your lips. "nor can i wait for you to get into bed with me so i can cuddle you the way i've wanted to all day."

"point taken, baby, just let me…" your face screws up as you reach around to unclasp your bra through your (matty's) t-shirt, before pulling it out from under the soft material and launching it towards the open suitcase in the corner of the room. relief palpable, you climb onto the bed and grin at an enamoured matty, now sitting against the plush headboard and swigging champagne. "freedom at last."

"you know, i'd gladly do that for you, sweetheart," matty smirks, tugging you onto his lap with one arm. "in the name of feminism, and all."

"as much as i commend your attempts to champion the gender, baby, i'll pass," you smile, enjoying the tiny moan that slips from your fiancé's lips as you weave your hands into his hair. "because i know if i let you do that, your hands are gonna end up on my tits, and then we'll never get anything done."

"oi, that's not true," matty frowns (cutely). "we'll get each other done. and i know you enjoy that. as do i, my god."

his lips attach themselves to your neck, making their way down; your insides begin to liquify, but you fight through the slight haze of pleasure and stand your ground. "yeah, i really do enjoy it. but, baby, there's other stuff i enjoy doing with you that i wanna do too, yeah? like… watching this film we agreed we were gonna put on tonight."

matty groans against your skin. "must we?"

"yes. you promised me, matty," you say, as firmly as you can with his lips still attached to your collarbone. "we watched the irishman yesterday because you wanted to, and you said we could do bones and all today. it's only fair."

"a romance film about cannibalism," matty mutters to nobody in particular. "it's foul, that concept."

"well, fair is foul and foul is fair."

"what?"

"macbeth. shakespeare. can't argue with him. anyway," you say, shuffling around so matty can lean back against your chest. "can i put the film on now?"

a deep sigh, one that seems to drag itself up from the depths of matty's soul. "depends."

"on?"

"it depends," matty begins dramatically. "on if you're going to spend the rest of the day thirsting over timothée chalamet or not."

"you know, i seem to like him a lot more in your head than i do in real life."

"really?"

"yeah."

matty hums, appeased. "sick. go on, then, stick it on."

you press a kiss to matty's temple and snake a hand across his torso to hold his own. matty brings it to his lips, and the contact seems to release a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. "thank you, lover."

the beginning of the film passes without much incident; that is, until the first lightly gory scene. you wince a little at the sound of cracking bone, but you're nowhere near as bad as matty, who almost upends the bowl of sweets resting on his lap and vigorously shakes his head as if it'll erase the memory from his brain. 

once it passes, he reaches for the champagne on the bedside table and takes a long drink, before passing the bottle to you. "maybe you'd better hang onto that, darling."

"alright, baby."

despite both of your respective silences,  and although you can't see matty's face, you can picture the disgust colouring his features from the way his head tilts against you as the film progresses. he doesn't speak until the film's main villain is introduced, reaching back for the champagne with a "creepy fucker, that one"; this sentiment is built upon at the shot of a james joyce book in said fucker's residence. "oh, christ, he really is suspicious."

despite your own discomfort towards the happenings on-screen, you grin at matty's assessment. "i mean, yeah, baby. but i think the lurking and creeping kinda gave that away already."

"well, obviously. but that book's an extra layer of him being an absolute wrong'un."

you giggle, wrapping your other arm around matty and resting your head on his shoulder. with a happy little huff of air through his nose, matty turns slightly to kiss your cheek; the two of you stay like that, cosied up in a tableau of casual domestic intimacy. it's sweet, for a while, and comfortable - matty even rips the piss out of you at a particular scene involving timothée chalamet and a cornfield, touting it as "your dream movie death, babe". 

(he's lowkey not wrong.)

the sweet moment breaks somewhat, though, as the film progresses and matty gets increasingly more grossed out. with every drop of blood spilled, every jumpscare, every mere mention of the "eating" driving the plot, the muscles in his limbs loosen and contract back into tension, soundtracked by a chorus of gasps, gulps, groans of disgust, and the odd "oh for fuck's sake" when things get really horrid. in spite of your own discomfort at some of the gore, you can't resist fucking with your fiancé a little bit; amidst a silently fraught moment for maren, the protagonist, you lean right next to an unsuspecting matty's ear and crunch a handful of m&m's in your mouth. he practically hits the ceiling in fright, and pinches your thigh with a "not fucking funny". but he doesn't let go of you at all, however grumpy you make him, holding you like a lifeline throughout. in fact, by the time the credits start rolling, matty's fully squished his face into your ribs to get away from the gore on screen, thumbs rubbing your thighs so quickly to try and calm his noticeably thumping heart that you fear he might accidentally set your skin ablaze. 

despite his terror, though, you have to hold back a laugh. "matty, sweetheart," you say, trying with all your might to keep your voice steady. "were you scared of that movie?"

"no, just unnerved by it," comes the clearly- untrue reply, muffled by your cotton-mix-clad chest. "like, they were just constantly eating raw? really? mingin'."

you can't hold back a derisive cackle now, though. "you're freaked out at people eating raw meat? you fucking hypocrite!"

"i wasn't eating people, was i?" matty protests.

"i don't know, i think you ate with it at finsbury."

matty scoffs, but you feel him smile against you. "you're a right weirdo, sometimes, you know that?"

"and you're a scaredy-cat, you know that? honestly. can't even handle a bit of cannibalism in a movie. pussy."

your fiancé pulls back from your chest to look at you, and you regret your words immediately as soon as you see the shit-eating grin on his face. "well, you are what you eat."

an immediate facepalm. "i can't stand you."

"that ring on your left hand suggests otherwise, darling," matty kisses said ring, then presses little pecks up your finger to the tip. "and look at that - you can be romantic and kiss fingers without wanting to munch on them. this film is nonsensical. i mean, i get it's some metaphorical thing about loving people for who they truly are, but jesus, the cannibalism isn't half disgusting."

"hmmm, i don't know," you muse, twirling matty's curls around your fingers. "i think there's something romantic about it. the ending with maren and lee, at least."

matty peels your fingers out of his hair and moves to face you, his beautiful face contorted into the most bewildered expression you think you've ever seen. "are you on something right now?"

"i'm serious! it's romantic, if ill-advised. and messy."

"sweetheart," matty shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "politely - what the fuck are you on about?"

you smile. "well, it's all about desire, and lust, yeah?"

"yeah, i get that, but…"

"so, it's just needing somebody so much that you, well, you consume them in their entirety. and also, like," you continue, pushing your slipping glasses back up your nose. "there's an element of closeness to it, too. how much more intimate can you get than having your lover being broken down in your digestive system, literally fuelling you the way their love does so emotionally? oh, and devotion! giving yourself up to your lover like that to sustain them? you're together forever. yeah, it's disgusting, but you can't deny there's a romance to it, matty, you really can't."

he looks like he wants to, though. "but it's so violent."

you roll your eyes. "says the man who wrote a song about the idea of cracking his girlfriend's skull open, just so he could know exactly what she was thinking. and i thought that was sweet, and romantic."

matty opens his mouth as if to disagree, then closes it and shrugs. "actually, you've got a point, darling," he smiles almost shyly, tracing patterns in the bare skin of your shin. "i wrote that about you, you know."

"you did? aww, baby," you coo, pulling your fiancé's face towards you so you can kiss all over it. "i had no idea!"

"oh, come on, babe, who the fuck else would it have been about?" matty scoffs. "used to daydream about being so intimate with you like this, just hearing you think out loud, as unedited as you'll ever get."

you smirk. "bet you didn't think the thoughts would be about the inherent romance of cannibalism, huh?"

matty laughs, leaning in to kiss you slowly, deeply, passionately. "no, but it doesn't matter. i love you regardless."

"i love you too. and i promise i won't try to eat you, baby."

"nor will i take a heavy object to your skull, sweetheart. however," matty smirks, shuffling down the bed to rest his head in the gap between your legs. "i would quite like to eat you in a slightly different sense, if you'll allow."

"oh, go on then."