#i still don’t know where these photos originated from

[shiny-crocodile]

the best person i’ve ever met

lucy bronze x ona batlle

Summary

lucy and ona origin story; semi-slow burn, semi-quick; multi chapters that will get a little smutty

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8

CHAPTER 7

Chapter summary: injuries and jealousy

Chapter notes: thank so much for all the suggestions! already had this written but tweaked to include one. hope you enjoy xx

Smut

As the days and weeks passed it was harder and harder for Lucy to keep this hidden from her teammates. She wasn’t a natural at keeping secrets, and there was only so many ways she could reject Mapi’s relentless offers of another tattooed friend for her to date.

The two right backs called each other nearly every night, knowing it was about to become extremely difficult to hide with Ona going to the Chelsea game and having to spend time with both Lucy and her Spanish teammates afterwards. They had zero clue how they were going to navigate that one.

The game only a few days away, Jana and Salma were in the changing room discussing match tickets in earshot of Lucy.

“So I asked her if she wanted me to get her tickets to the game on Saturday but she said she’s already got some,” Jana continued. “Did you get her them? I need to make sure she’s in the family area so my mum will have someone she knows there.”

The group around Jana all shook their heads.

So Jana turned to the rest of the room, announcing, “did any of you get Ona tickets to the game on Saturday?”

“Not me” chimed out from different parts of the changing room as they all looked at each other.

She was in the family area, but Lucy was going to keep quiet and no one was really looking at her, they wouldn’t think to. Apart from Keira and Alexia but they would have never said anything.

“Why don’t you just ask her?” Alexia suggested.

Jana sighed, “I did, she’s aired my messages, must have lost her phone again.”

Lucy chuckled in her head, knowing full well Ona’s phone was alive and well as they were messaging each other 10 minutes ago.

Jana huffed and stropped out to training.

As the last two out onto the pitch, Alexia matched Lucy’s pace. “She’s sitting in the family area yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool I’ll let Jana know, can’t have her sulking all day,” Alexia said, “you know everyone’s going to find out on Saturday.”

Before Lucy had time to respond, Alexia had jogged off to catch up with Jana.

She knew her captain was probably right, but the barça girls were still more Ona’s friends than Lucy’s. She would wait for the younger girl to be ready to tell them, not putting any pressure on. Lucy could keep her mouth shut.

////

As the Barcelona coach pulled into Stamford Bridge, the day had finally arrived and crowds were starting to build. Lucy looked out the window to see as many “Bronze” shirts as she did Chelsea or other Barça ones, giving her the warmest welcome when she jumped off.

Ona was already at Stamford Bridge, excitement building as she chatted to a lot of familiar faces, mingling with the friends and family of her Spain teammates.

She had been so looking forward to being reunited with Lucy but also to watch her play, never having actually watched her from the stands, she couldn’t wait to fan girl.

The Spaniard loved that she wasn’t the only Lucy fan, with Bronze shirts everywhere! She proudly took photos of any in her eye line. If anything it made Ona feel even luckier to be with her.

Just watching Lucy warm up was adorable, in a world of her own, and then sweetly swinging the arm of her young mascot, Ona was well and truly swooning.

As the game kicked off Ona felt similar rush from watching Lucy play as when roles were reversed a few weeks ago. The number 15 won every duel, was first to each ball, and even made an insane goal line clearance, Ona was in awe. Mesmerised enough that she even felt it lower down, knowing exactly where her hand would be right now if she wasn’t sat next to Jana’s mum.

So transfixed by the game and the girl, she nearly missed what Alexia’s sister was up to a couple rows in front of her. Nearly missed, but not quite.

Scrolling through TikTok, Ona could easily recognise these as Lucy edits, she’d seen most of them before herself. Some were thirstier than others but video after video was just Lucy.

Ona knew that either Sofia had literally searched “Lucy Bronze edits” or her algorithm was just pure Lucy. Whichever was true, Ona’s blood was boiling, completely taking over her as she lost all focus of the game, pissed off that this girl, a beautiful girl at that, was thirsting over her Lucy.

With her eyes off the game and burning a whole in the back of Sofia’s head, the younger girl didn’t see Lucy go down until the whistle drew her attention back to the pitch.

“Shit, what happened?” Ona asked Jana’s mum next to her. Medical staff were surrounding Lucy now as play was paused.

“I didn’t see properly but she went down holding her knee.”

Fuuuuuck, Ona thought, knowing exactly what this meant. Lucy wasn’t one to require treatment or stay down this long if it wasn’t serious. Ona was panicking.

Lucy limped off the pitch and straight into the changing room, leaving Ona feeling helpless and biting her nails for the last 30 minutes of the game until the full time whistle went and Lucy reappeared, not walking right as she made her way onto the pitch to congratulate her teammates and commiserate with her Chelsea friends.

Rather than going round the pitch to see fans as she usually did, the English girl hobbled back down the tunnel. She couldn’t bring herself to wave up at the family area, worrying Ona further, who was ignoring the congratulatory hugs to try and read the expression of the older girl for something, anything.

//

The Man U player was feeling incredibly anxious as she waited for Lucy in the hospitality restaurant that all the family and friends were told to wait in. She was temporarily distracted as the Barcelona players gradually started to make their way into the room, giving her mini reunions with the girls she’s known for years.

As more and more players came in, the English girl never appeared. The Spaniard couldn’t wait any longer.

Ona - all good?

Lucy - sorry, medics are taking their sweet time on my knee.

Lucy - can you go to the lifts? I’ll send someone to get you.

Ona discreetly made her way out, not noticed by the rest of the room who were digging in to some post game burgers.

//

“Shit,” Ona said as she entered the room to see Lucy sat up on the medical bed with an insane amount of ice around her knee.

“Not as bad as it looks,” Lucy lied, getting an eye roll from Peter the physio.

Peter picked up one of the ice packs to take a look at the knee in question.

“Ok you need to stay here a little longer, I’ll go and get you both a plate of food from upstairs.”

Lucy wasn’t particularly hungry but she wasn’t going to argue with him offering to leave the room.

The second he was out the room, Ona was by her side, leaning down to kiss her lips gently.

“You were so good, and crazy hot,” Ona said, moving some of the sweaty hair out of Lucy’s face while staring into those mesmerising green eyes.

“Thanks bonita,” Lucy said, blushing while pulling the Spaniard down into another kiss, more passionate this time.

“You have fun with Jana’s mum?”

Ona nodded, rubbing circles in Lucy’s palm.

“Mm yeah,” Ona started, pretending she had just remembered something when really it had been at the back of her mind for the past hour. “And I was sat a couple of rows behind a whole other kind of Lucy show.”

“Oh yeah?” Lucy asked, curious.

“Yeah, more of a TikTok edits type of show,” Ona continued, “Alexia’s sister spent most of the second half glued to her phone watching sexy videos of you.”

Lucy grimaced slightly and Ona noticed.

“What’s that look?” Ona asked.

“I do kind of know Sofia,” Lucy admitted, feeling incredibly awkward, looking down at her hands that Ona was still playing with.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm, we hooked up a few times last year,” Lucy said, now looking up at Ona, not knowing what her reaction would be.

“Oh really? A few?” Ona asked. Lucy had mentioned in one of their late night phone calls that she’d not exactly been a nun since her break up, so that wasn’t surprising. But Ona had got the impression they were all one time things.

“Yeah, a couple parties and couple booty calls, never anything close to serious.”

“How did it end?” Ona asked, she had quite a lot of questions but wasn’t going to ask them, she knew the answers would only feed her jealousy.

“I mean it never really started but I guess the nail in the coffin was when this one girl nearly vomitted on me at a wedding and the other girls suddenly didn’t matter,” Lucy said. She was trying to be cheeky but it didn’t come out as anything but adorable, earning her a playful shoulder shove from Ona.

Before Ona could say anything back, Peter returned with the burgers. Killing the mood but, unlike Lucy, the younger girl was starving so she wouldn’t complain.

“So I have to get a scan tomorrow,” Lucy said to Ona, changing the subject. “Sorry I know we had fun weekend plans.”

“That’s ok, we can still have fun in a hospital waiting room,” Ona said, unwrapping the foil round her burger, the older girl loving that it didn’t even cross the Spaniard’s mind to not be at the hospital with her. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“Well the girls have booked out a part of the hotel for a little fiesta, so we could go to that for a bit so you get to spend more time with that lot, and then we can just hang,” Lucy said with a knowing smile, both girls fully intending to minimise the party time and maximise the “hang” time, but they couldn’t say that in front of Peter.

///

The party was one of the more low key ones for the Barça girls. After all they were still in season and under the watchful eye of their coaches.

Sub groups had formed around the room, which was scattered with tables holding bottles of Prosecco and beer.

Ona and Lucy spent the evening at a safe distance from each other. They knew they’d have the rest of the weekend together so this temporary time on other sides of the room wasn’t a big deal.

They still stole glances and smiles, unable to stop their eyes from wandering to the other every few minutes. That’s why it wasn’t hard for Ona to spot another brunette making her way towards Lucy.

“Sofia, hey,” Lucy said giving her ex-fuck buddy a quick hug.

The younger Putellas held onto Lucy’s arms a second longer than needed. “Hola Lucia, it’s been a while.”

Lucy laughed awkwardly, she didn’t really want to have this chat with Ona nearby, but she’d never be rude enough to just dismiss her. “It has, how have you been?”

“Yeah really good, I just got a promotion at work, and bought my own flat!” Sofia said.

“Wow congrats, look at you go!” Lucy said, honestly happy for the girl. While their connection wasn’t the deepest it wasn’t as if they ended on bad terms or anything. Sofia was just a sweetheart.

Sofia leaned down slightly to stroke Lucy’s bandaged knee, “how is it?”

As platonic and friendly as the conversation felt for Lucy, it looked the opposite to Ona from across the room, who’s eyes were narrowing in on the pair, ignoring Jana and Mapi yapping beside her, not that they noticed.

She stared as Sofia kept touching Lucy’s arm, laughing excessively loudly at anything Lucy said, starting to whisper in Lucy’s ear instead of speaking from a normal distance.

It felt like the temperature in the room had just gone up by 20 degrees as jealousy took over her.

Lucy’s reaction to all this certainly didn’t cause this to cool.

The older girl laughed back, she grinned, she chatted, looking carefree and relaxed. Well carefree and relaxed until she caught Ona’s eyes on her.

Lucy had never seen her look like that before. She stepped back on instinct, reestablishing some distance between her and Sofia.

She recognised the anger, she recognised the lust, but the two in combination was new. Whatever that look was, she’d be lying if she said it didn’t excite her, looking deep into her.

The temperature of the room was now 20 degrees hotter for both of them.

Now Ona had Lucy’s full attention, she couldn’t stop her feet from marching over to the pair.

“Oh hi Ona, are-“ Sofia started, but before another word could be uttered , Ona was barging Sofia out the way and latching her mouths onto Lucy’s, instantly forcing her tongue in.

Once Lucy had got over the initial shock she joined in on the messy kiss. With the younger girl keeping her close with hands on either side of the English girl’s head. Lucy used her hands to grab Ona’s arse, squeezing hard enough to spur on the lust and energy flowing through them.

Meanwhile, they’d obviously attracted the attention of others in the room.

Jana’s jaw dropped to the floor, tapping Mapi incessantly to get her to turn around, who followed suit with the jaw dropping.

“What the actual fuck? Those two? I can’t believe Lucy is the person Ona’s obsessed with,” Jana says, having been on the receiving end of many of Ona’s ramblings about the nameless girl she was seeing.

“Well that explains all the extra Spanish classes she’s been begging for,” Mapi had said, shoving her girlfriend, “see Ingrid, I told you she wasn’t trying to steal me from you.”

Ingrid wrapped a hand round Mapi’s waist, giving it a squeeze. She was relieved her girl wasn’t going to be stolen by the Lucy Bronze but also finding it hard not to be turned on by the steamy kiss in front of her.

Apart from those 3 and Sofia, who was frozen in shock, the rest of the room were too distracted by their own conversations to notice, but they would surely know soon enough now the team’s chattiest members had seen.

Ona pulled back from the kiss, a smug smile on her face as she turned to Sofia, giving a “yeah, sorry” before taking Lucy’s hand and leading them out the room, not giving Lucy’s head time to catch up as she hobbled after her.

After entering the lift, instead of jumping back to Lucy and picking up where they left off, Ona gasped in realisation of what she had just done.

“Shit Lucy,” the Spaniard said, “I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry I should have asked you before kissing you in front of everyone.”

Lucy was still in shock herself, not really computing what had just happened and why it had happened. All she did know was that she was very into it.

“Shh, come back here,” Lucy said, pulling Ona over to her, who quickly forgot what she was sorry about, pushing the older girl up against the lift mirror and reattaching their lips.

Ona took complete control of the kiss, sucking her tongue, fingers tangled in her hair.

The lift pinged at their floor and Ona resumed her position of dragging Lucy around by the hand.

The younger girl walked straight into their room and over to the bed, ordering Lucy to lay down. They’d be limited on positions with Lucy’s knee, but the Spaniard had plenty of ideas.

Pushing Lucy onto her back and climbing on top, Ona started sucking on the older girl’s neck.

Lucy moaned loudly as she felt the brunette leave marks all over her neck, loving this side of Ona.

“Oh my god,” Lucy uttered out between moans.

“Gonna mark you up and show that bitch you’re all mine,” Ona whispered into Lucy’s neck, sending the older girl’s head into orbit.

Between head spins it dawned on Lucy, that look she didn’t recognise Ona serving her, the reason for the public kiss bombardment, it was all jealousy.

This perfect, beautiful girl was jealous of someone else. If she wasn’t so turned on, she’d laugh.

Once Ona had finished her attack on Lucy’s neck, she made her way down the older girl’s chest and torso, discarding tops and bras as she went, leaving deep red marks everywhere her mouth went.

In a complete change of attitude, the Spaniard switched from possessive to caring mode. She looked up at Lucy to sense any hesitation as she gradually brought her trousers down her legs, not wanting to disturb the knee strapping.

“You ok?” Ona asked, noticing Lucy wincing as the trousers went past her knee.

“Yeah, all good, knee just hurting a bit.”

It wasn’t just hurting a bit, it was throbbing, the pain killers were wearing off. But Lucy was desperate for that not to stop the Ona show that she was living for.

“We don’t have to do this,” Ona said. As much as she wanted to, she didn’t want to hurt her.

Lucy wracked her brain, thinking of what they could do that could still let Ona get this jealous rage out but also not require Lucy to mess up her knee further.

Then it came to her. “You don’t have to say yes but d’you wanna sit on my face?”

“Oh my god,” Ona said, feeling her knickers get soaked at the offer alone.

The way the younger girl quickly ripped all her clothes off gave Lucy the answer she was waiting for, putting a pillow under her head as she shifted herself up the bed.

Ona followed her, crawling up the bed until their lips met again. “I can’t wait to ride your beautiful face,” she whispered in Lucy’s ear, pulling a delicious moan from the girl beneath her.

“Did you ever do this with Sofia?” Ona asked as she repositioned herself, legs straddling Lucy’s face.

Lucy couldn’t help but laugh at the timing of that question coming as she had the world’s best view of Ona, admiring her as she was absolutely dripping.

“Did you?” Ona asked, more forcefully this time.

Lucy thought about her next words very carefully, “you don’t want the answer.”

That was all it took for Ona, pushing herself down onto Lucy’s face.

Taken aback at the speed and force, Lucy grabbed Ona’s arse to establish some stability, not able to resist squeezing it. She pushed her tongue flat to Ona’s pussy, licking up her folds as the Spaniard shuddered above her.

The Spaniard, feeling the control over Lucy that she wanted, grabbed onto the headboard as she started fucking herself on Lucy’s face.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Ona screamed as Lucy’s tongue destroyed her, causing her to rock even harder, getting everything she needed from Lucy’s mouth while the older girl’s hands ground at her arse.

Lucy tilted her head so her nose to get better friction on Ona’s clit, knowing exactly what the girl needed.

“Oh my god. Your mouth. Never stop,” Ona said, rapidly approaching her high.

Lucy pushed Ona up slightly, enabling herself to breathe for a second and assure the younger girl, “it’s your mouth, and this is my pussy.”

Ona let out an earth shattering moan, Lucy’s words were exactly what her jealous ass needed to hear as the older girl continued to fuck her with her tongue.

Lucy could feel Ona was close, drowning in her wetness, so she sucked on her clit, sending the younger girl hurtling into her orgasm.

Ona cried out again, continuing to rock herself on Lucy’s mouth as the older girl helped her through her high, swallowing everything she could before Ona couldn’t take anymore, lifting herself off Lucy’s face, collapsing next to her.

“Wow,” Ona said, panting, absolutely exhausted.

Lucy wiped Ona’s juices off her face, also panting as she rolled on her side to face the Spaniard.

She held the younger girls face lightly, turning it to face her, looking deep into each other’s completed fucked out eyes.

“You know you’ve got nothing to worry about, right?” Lucy asked. She was grateful for Ona’s jealous side when it led to that, but she had no intention of letting that jealousy carry on any longer.

Ona hummed, staring into Lucy’s warm, reassuring eyes.

Lucy continued, not satisfied that Ona was sufficiently reassured, “in case it wasn’t already abundantly clear, I only want you.”

Ona sighed, it was exactly what she needed to hear and she knew she had been behaving a little extra.

“It’s just not the nicest thing to see,” Ona admitted, “like girl stop drooling over my girlfriend.”

Ona didn’t notice the slip of tongue, but Lucy absolutely did, eyes opening wide in shock.

“What?” Ona asked in response to Lucy’s raised eyebrows, really not computing what had just come out her mouth, until she did.

“Oh shit!” the younger girl said, hand clasping her mouth.

“Your guuuuuuuuurlfriend?” Lucy teased, trying to pull Ona’s hand away from her face.

The Spaniard’s cheeks turned a bright crimson, not made better by being teased.

“Ughh,” Ona said, pushing Lucy away as she tried to tickle her through the teasing coos. “Stop, I take it back.”

“You don’t wanna be my girlfriend?” Lucy said, teasing tone still there but sticking her lower lip out to pout.

Ona shook her head, “no thank you.”

“Suit yourself, shall we head back to the party and see if anyone else will be my girlfriend,” Lucy smirked.

The English girl was absolutely loving this, while the Spaniard was hating it.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” Ona said, knowing she was lying but Lucy just knew how to get under her skin.

Too shattered to continue teasing, Lucy dragged Ona towards her by the hips, kissing her gently before pulling back.

“Forgive me Oni,” Lucy pleaded in her cutest voice possible as she placed the younger girl’s hair behind her ears. “I think of you as my girlfriend any way. I was just waiting on you.”

Ona found it impressive how Lucy could go from being the most annoying person on the planet one minute, to the sweetest the next.

“You don’t need to wait, I’m right here with you,” Ona said, bringing Lucy’s fingers up to kiss each of them softly. “And I don’t want to hide it from our friends either.”

“Well I think the hiding it may be out the window now, but I’d like that a lot,” Lucy said, voice starting to drag slightly as the tiredness took over.

“And I especially don’t want to hide it from any of our flirty friends,” Ona said, pushing herself up and straddling Lucy, knees either side of the older girl’s hips.

Suddenly Lucy felt a rush of energy at a naked Ona on top of her. Linking a hand behind Ona’s neck she pulled the younger girl in for a messier kiss, gearing up for round 2.

////

[slythereen]

FRED VASSEUR congratulates MAX VERSTAPPEN on 10 consecutive wins — Italian Grand Prix, Monza 2023

[deadsetobsessions]

“DIDJA SEE THAT, DANNY?!” Tim, a scrawny eleven year old now, excitedly smacked Danny’s arm.

“Ow. Yes, yes I did.”

“Oh, gosh, I have to tell Jazz about this!!” The kid waved his arms about wildly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Jaso- I mean, Robin, smiled at me! And said he liked my t-shirt!! Oh my god, he likes literature puns, he even laughed! And then he punched the bad guy in the face! Look! I even saved the tooth!”

“Okayyy, nope!” Danny plucked the tooth and tossed it, ignoring Tim’s betrayed face. “I’ll trade you that for this.”

Danny Held out a piece of paper with Robin’s and Batman’s sigil on it, from when he asked them to sign it after they “saved” the two brothers from the two-bit thugs trying to mug them.

“Oh. My. God. This is like the best day of my life!! I love you, Danny! You’re the best brother ever!! Oh my god! I have to get Nightwing’s signature!!!”

Danny felt a rush of warmth at Tim’s proclamation of affection. Ah, he should probably step in.

“Hey, wait, no, we’re not going to Blüdhaven for you to stalk another vigilante.”

“It’s not just any old vigilante-!” Tim ignored Danny’s dramatic clutching-pearls gesture of mock hurt. “It’s Nightwing. The original Robin! He gave me my first ever hug!”

Danny paused. God dammit.

“…Fine.”

“YESSSSSS!!!!”

——

Danny-

“I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”

-is so damn tired.

“Tim. I’m literally a vigilante ghost. What makes you think I’d be stupid enough to argue with a kid who runs around Gotham at night to take pictures of other vigilantes?”

Tim deflated. “Oh. Honestly, I thought you’d put up more of a fight…”

Jazz laughed and ruffled Tim’s hair. “I definitely couldn’t stop Danny when he went out. He trusted me to support him and I trusted him to come to me if he was injured, though. Can you promise me that, Tim?”

“Yeah… okay, Jazz, I promise.” Tim promised, even if he was still pouty.

Danny chimed in.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally worried and I’m gonna hover like a mother hen when you go out, but again, I know how stubborn and crazy we vigilante types have to be.” Danny paused. “Do you want me to put up a token protest?”

Tim nodded, sulking. “Yes, please. I had a speech planned out.”

Jazz and Danny exchanged amused glances.

“Oh, okay, my bad, kiddo. Here, let’s start from the top.”

“Okay. Ahem,” Tim straightened his back, settling into his previous mulish expression once more. “I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”

Danny placed an appropriately disapproving frown on his face. “No, you can’t! It’s dangerous! You could get hurt! You’re just a child!”

Tim launched into his speech. “But I can’t stay still and do nothing when people are getting hurt! Even…!”

They were gonna be here for a while. There was definitely something about Batman going on a spiral because Jason wouldn’t be able to walk again after the Joker got to him. Danny wondered if ectoplasm could help. He might offer, if it actually had a change of getting Tim out of the vigilante business.

But that’s for later, because they had time. Jazz was on Spring Break… and they’re still staying here for free, after all of these years.

“So, how are you going to convince Robin to let you be Robin?” Jazz asked Tim.

Tim froze. “I… hadn’t thought of that yet.”

“Well, you could always remind him of the fact that we saved him from the Joker. He seemed pretty ready to leave the Robin mantle, the last time I saw him as Phantom.”

“I don’t want to blackmail him into it!” Tim whined.

“It’ll just be a suggestion, Tim.” Jazz smiled patiently.

“Besides,” Danny continued, smirking mischievously at his adopted little brother. “If you were actually blackmailing him, you’d pull out the photos where he ate dirt.”

“I guess that’s true…” Tim mumbled. “I know! I’ll have to follow them to see how I can best approach him!”

"I think that's called stalking," Jazz deadpanned.

"Well, it's not any worse than what he's already done." Danny shrugged at his older sister. "Sure, kid. Why not? Do whatever you want."

"I was planning to!" Tim bounced off to grab his photography gear. Jazz stared off after him.

"Should we be encouraging that?"

"More like can we actually stop him?" Danny leaned back, lazily completing his GED assignments. Jazz sighed.

"Guess not. Make sure he doesn't get in trouble."

"Do you even know how hard that is, Jazz?" Danny complained, dodging the whack Jazz sent at the back of his head. She smirked at him.

"Womp, womp, Danny. How does karma taste today?"

Danny flipped her off as he put the last punctuation on the paper. He heard a clatter and groaned.

“I’m gonna go watch Tim stalk Batman for the night. Want anything from the store?”

Jazz hummed. “Get me the specialty strawberry ice cream, from that one place?”

“The one that’s definitely a front for Falcone’s money laundering??”

“Yeah. They make good strawberry ice cream.”

“Sure.”

Danny went ghost and flew straight through the walls to catch Tim sneaking out by the scruff of his collar.

“No. Bad Tim.”

“Awww, come on Danny!”

[cl6teen]

affection, ln4 ❀ chapter ii. the need to know

masterlist || chapter i || chapter iii

summary: [4.5k words] drunken nights spent in lando’s townhouse are an ode to your friendship, and maybe just a little bit more.

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

contains: lando and reader are in denial, self friendzoning, lots of reminiscing and fluff, lando taking care of reader, very lazy smut, one night stands, oblivious flirting, talks of sex, intoxication, unprotected sex, pull and pray.

note: not proofread, this can be read as a stand-alone or as part of my affection series, however this is not a required read for said series. (sorry for such a long wait! exams were rough and this was difficult to write for some reason)

❀ silverstone ❀

The overarching sounds of EDM and conversation ring through Lando’s ears in a destructive harmony that’s sure to hit him tomorrow morning in the form of a stupid migraine. Still, he pushes through the sea of bodies crowding around, trying to huddle in close enough to him to hopefully snag a photo of ‘Silverstone’s P2 driver’. It has a nice ring to it, since you said that with Max in this competition, P2 is the new P1, so he should be nothing more proud of his performance. 

Prideful he was, enough to confidently down shots with today’s true winner, forgetting how the Dutchman always lets as loose as he can during these after parties. And while they didn’t seem to hit whilst manning the dj turn-tables for the last hour or so, the newfound alcohol in his system was certainly making itself known now.  

His hands run through brown tufts of hair as he scans the club entrance for you, “Y/n?”

“Over here.”

You’ve sat yourself in an armchair close to the women’s washroom, where you nurse a half-full lukewarm bottle of water in your hands before taking yet another prolonged sip. 

“You look like shit.” He chuckles, leaning down to fix the strands of your hair that stray from the rest. 

“Tell me about it,” you roll your eyes playfully, a laugh escapes you both, “you’re not one to talk, either.”

Fair point, he shrugs. With tousled hair that manages to go in every direction except for what it was originally in, sunglasses threatening to fall off the bridge of his nose, and the faint red lipstick marks stained on his unbuttoned white collar, Lando looks far from put together. He’s impossible, how can he have the nerve to talk to how you look on a night out while he was so quick to leave you with Oscar (who you had no problems being with—he just didn’t seem to be the party type) after receiving a shameless once over from a leggy blonde passing your group by upon arrival.

“So, where’s tonight’s girl?” He stares when you passively fold your arms into each other and question, completely unaware of how the movement pushes your chest together. He clicks his tongue, stop looking, Lando. 

“Hell if I know.” He sighs in fake disappointment, in hopes of cutting that conversation off as quickly as it was introduced, “you’re staying at mine tonight.”

Okay, you nod. You don’t question it—you never do. Instead you sit quietly and watch him swipe around on his phone, no doubt shooting Max (Fewtrell) a quick text to let him know you were both leaving before calling up an Uber Black. Was this normal? To go home with Lando after a long night out? To you, the answer was always yes—hell, if you need him, say the word and he’s on the way, isn’t that what friends were for?

But other people can’t fathom the idea, they look at the two of you with doubtful eyes after explaining that although you can’t seem to go anywhere without one another, Lando’s just a friend. You sigh in exasperation at the thought, Lando Norris isn’t dateable; at least, not to you. He texts you about the girls he’s on dates with and nitpicks about how their breath smells, or how they had food in their teeth, or the potent perfume they drench themselves in to the point of inducing headaches in people they pass by. He’s whiney, and picky, and—

Lando’s fingers snap in your face and bring you out of your stupor, “What’s got you thinking so hard?” 

“Nothing.” Your little jump earns you a perplexed look from Lando, who can only stare you down, “nothing, just want to get some rest.”

“The car is here, but it’s a little walk across the street.” He notices the heels toppled over each other next to the chair—you truly are a mess. “Do you have your purse?” You nod, flimsily holding the bag up for him to see.

Lando is no Superman, he knows that well after an ambitious jump off a bunk bed and straight into an ER visit and a three month cast at the age of ten; but now he feels like he’s got the power to do it all, looping the straps of your heels on a finger and hoisting you into his arms bridal style. It’s far from a pretty sight, but it still manages to grab the attention of partygoers nearby, who point and whisper and gush at the scene in front of them. “People will see, Lando.” You look up at him through dark lashes in an unfamiliar way that gets his gears turning—more than anything, he just wants to get you to this car. 

“Yeah, but that’s okay.” He smiles nervously, letting you burrow your head into the crook of his neck to hide from the nipping British breezes outside. It's probably anything but okay; pictures might make their way around, and make both his life and your own a pain in the ass, but he can’t rain it on you like that. 

The subtle aroma of your perfume invades his senses, and all of a sudden he’s become so hyper aware of his touch on your skin, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest—he shakes his head.

In Lando’s mind, you’re but one thing to him; a friend—one he intends to keep like that.

—

Silent car rides in the backseat have never been Lando’s thing, not when he’s drunk, not when he can’t use his phone because he has to watch you. He’s not complaining, really—but there’s a fleeting moment of relief when forty minutes later, the two of you find way to the steps of his townhome, and he's fumbling around in his pockets for the keys while you stay huddled close to him to keep warm despite already sporting his jacket. 

He’s profane as he fiddles with the door handle. You’re lucky he’s sweet enough to give you his clothing, because even though he practically threw it at you after listening to your nonstop whines about the cold, and how he ‘wasn’t even fazed by it’, he is actually freezing now.  

“Tonight was…”

Rough, Fun, you both say in tandem; Lando’s enthusiasm is unsurprising, he finds himself at home in these situations. Work hard, play harder, he would say—it makes sense, his job is high stakes, stressful, the media is a pain in the ass; you would look forward to the fun bit too.

However, you’re not Lando, you don’t vacation in Ibiza or party with Max Verstappen on weekends—you travel to Thailand and read on rafts, but your best friend making podium during a home race is more than enough reason to show face for the night, so you make your peace with it and thank whoever that you’re home now.  

“I need to change out of this,” you refer to the dress you’ve spent the entire after party readjusting and pulling down only to tug back up. “Lend me a shirt?”

“Did you really need to ask?” He speaks from a hunched over position while clumsily taking off his shoes. “You know where my room is.”

It’s a painfully familiar place; Lando’s never around enough to change it up anyway. When was the last time you were here? Maybe two years ago, during summer break, your memory is too foggy, but not to the point where you can forget your first time visiting. You and Lando were nineteen and twenty, and he wanted to use his well earned ‘Y/n’s daddy’ funded bonus on something practical. A house was not what you had in mind, but twenty five year old Carlos had a bottle of wine and a pipe dream of a three person housewarming party (one your father wasn’t too stoked to hear about, no doubt). It ended just as expected, wine drunk and full on that no bake cookie dough, albeit against the wishes of the drivers’ nutritionists, and you somehow bundled up in Lando’s brand new King bed while the other two found their comforts in plastic wrapped couches tucked away in the living room. 

The only thing different in Lando’s bedroom are the bedsheets (thankfully), and frames full of podiums that showcase just how far he's come. 

The smile you fight while reminiscing falters when you reach to tug at your zipper and fail. For what you spent on it, the list of inconveniences following your dress just seems to grow.

“Lan!” An exasperated huff escapes you, “could you come in for a moment?”

“My zipper, it’s stuck and I can't get it.” You want to cringe at your words, it’s a cliche—one of the many the universe seems to put you two in. Turning away from him, you move your hair out the way to expose your back, “do you mind?”

His fingers feel warm on your back, it’s a foreign feeling that creeps over the expanse of your nerves and has your breath hitched uncomfortably in the back of your throat. Something is just…different—maybe the alcohol, but you’ve been drunk around Lando one too many times and never has it ended like this, with his fingers nervously fiddling with the metal zipper, tugging at your dress material while gently trying to yank it down. 

“Lando, that hurts.” you breathe for the first time in what feels like ages. 

He kisses his teeth in frustration, placing a firm hand on your waist to keep you from squirming around, “You need to stay still.” The thickness of his accent becomes more apparent with each word. 

You feel so weak, letting just a simple touch bully you into submission, silently you nod. The zipper's journey down is agonizing and slow, for both of you; at this moment, Lando wants nothing more than to leave the room, yet his feet seem glued to the ground he stands on. It’s dimly lit, but you can still feel eyes burning holes into your bare skin, up from the nape of your neck and down to the top of your hips that the lace material underneath clings to. 

He watches the thin straps of your dress struggle to stay atop your shoulders and fall down your arms, further exposing the skin of your back—he sees a tattoo, one that he convinced you to get in Vegas last year, it looks good, better than he thought it would. 

“—did you hear me? Are you done?”

He should leave.

“Yeah, yup. I just got it down,” and as quick as he came, it feels like Lando’s miles away, “I’m gonna go now, just…grab whatever shirt you would like.”

–

“Hey.” You say quietly, padding your way to the kitchen island.

Okay. Things seem a lot more normal between you two. Maybe all that was needed to fix whatever tension between you both was a fresh change of clothes and some bright lighting.

“You hungry?” He prompts, leaning against quartz counters with the world famous boyish smile signature to Lando himself. “I can make us a little snack before bed, just to lighten the hangover you’ll probably get tomorrow.”

You hum sweetly, the time reads 1:53 am—it’s earlier than you thought, time always blurs together when you’re drunk. “Could you get me a glass of water please?” 

“Here you are, missy.”

You scrunch your nose up at his tone, “any name but that.” He laughs obnoxiously, proud of how he manages to get under your skin in a way only he can.

The sizzling sounds of grilled cheese on the pan accompanied by the dull hum of a faulty ceiling light are the only ones in the kitchen (you’re constantly telling him to get it fixed, but Lando never seems to follow up on your suggestions, opting for the answer of ‘I don’t even live here like that anymore’). Sipping from your glass, the lipstick stain on his collar catches your eye again—you’re curious, why didn’t he just go home with her?

“So what happened with the girl?”

“What?” He turns to look at you, brows furrowed into a knot. It’s not until you make a little gesture to the base of your neck that he looks down at his own to see what you mean. “Oh, her, what was her name again…Abby, Aria—no, Amy. She was too…onto me, only talked about racing and the other drivers. Don’t get me wrong I like, love, racing, but I want to have a natural conversation.” he searches for the right comparison, “like how you and me flow.”

You and me. 

Empathetic, you sigh into your hands, Lando is simple, adjacently, he likes things that are simple; routine and normal, like you two. “Lando, if you keep comparing girls to me you’re going to chase them away.” You think his attitude will be his undoing, but he says if it hasn’t happened now there’s no chance of it happening ever. “Even worse, they’ll think I'm your girlfriend.”

He shrugs calmly, so normal about the entire idea, “Max says they already think that.”

“Yeah well,” you huff out in mild annoyance, stuttering over your words at the thought of Lando discussing your relationship status with someone. “Max doesn’t know everything.” 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t date you in a million years,” mouthing off, he turns to look at you with a sour face, “too snobby.”

“You talk like you’re not daddy’s money too.” The reaction of your middle finger poking out is almost reflexive. “You’re not my type anyway.”

“That’s a lie. You thought I was cute when I first met you.” It is a lie, a painfully bad one at that—Lando has always been a cutie; though, his constant need to annoy you in some way seemed to drown that aspect of himself out. 

“And then your personality came to light.”

The witted banter between you always comes  naturally—he would poke and prod at your last fiber of patience with him until you finally find yourself giving your attention to his words and firing something back that would be surefire dig deep had it not been aimed at somebody like Lando. 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t think I’m hot.” Sniggering, he shoots you a teasing wink, “don’t worry, I think you’re hot too.”

“I know that, everyone thinks I’m hot.”

He scoffs to himself, he says you’re a narcissist, you say it’s not narcissistic if it’s true. 

The spurt of banter is short lived, and soon enough you’re back to hearing the hum of the kitchen lights. It’s peaceful enough, better than the crescendo of club music from an hour ago.

But you’re inebriated—and needing to talk to keep yourself from falling asleep while waiting on Lando, you start, “Have you ever thought about it?”

“About what?”

“You and me,” you repeat his words from earlier, but they’re not laced with the cool and calm confidence Lando had—instead, they’re shaky. You’re unsure if you want to know the answer to your own question. 

“Like…dating?” The pitch of his accent goes higher in confusion.

“Uhm, not dating per say…” you down your saliva to slow yourself before continuing, with the liquid courage flowing through your veins, the mental filter that once barricaded stupid nonsense from revealing itself is nowhere to be seen; which sucks because you could really use it right now.

“Do you mean hooking up?” Lando takes the meek stare you give as a yes, and your sudden shyness has him wanting to press you for more, “Have you?”

Have you thought about it? Screwing Lando Norris? Embarrassingly so, you’ve always wanted to sleep with an F1 driver (to know what makes these girls so insane for them, that’s what you tell yourself), but you prefer to keep those fantasies in your head, locked away in an untouchable space where nobody can reach. Still, it would be a lie to say it hadn’t crossed your mind—even if you harbor no romantic feelings towards him, people don’t usually mind sleeping with someone they find physically attractive. 

“And what if I have?” You probe, arms folding into each other as you watch Lando watch you out of the corner of his eyes. 

You’ll put him into a lot of trouble soon enough, and he dreads the day you do. “You’re funny.”

“So it never crossed your mind?”

Of course it has, look at you—unbelievably pretty even while piss-drunk and dressed in an old wrinkled t-shirt riding up your thighs. Though, he would never tell you that to your face; it would do him more worse than good. Lando might not love you in that sense, but he is a single man with an appreciative eye; he thinks many of the other drivers on the grid can attest to the fact that you’re stunning, some even going as far as using him as a means of snagging your number. He does you the favor of turning them down in your stead, though, because you would never get with any of them—he’s sure of it.

At least, that’s what he hopes. 

“Every guy has thought about hooking up with his best female friend, at least once.” He shrugs, not seeming to care about the way your mouth hangs open at his nonchalant vulgarity. Lando doesn’t actually know if it’s the truth, but he sure as hell feels that way about you, wrong or not. You don’t notice, but he’s already turned the stove burner off before facing you with a jerkish smirk, “what, did you want to try tonight?” 

“Jesus, goodnight.” You shove at his left shoulder and try to make a b-line back to his bedroom, only to be held back by Lando's outstretched arm that wraps itself around your shoulder. 

“Okay, okay,” he’s quick to plead, and he’s equally as quick to overlook the plans of goosebumps that settle across your body at his touch. “What I said was a dick move, I admit it.” Through a fanned breath, he heaves out, “but seriously, hm? What’s got you thinking about all that?”

What has got you thinking about all of this? The shots of Patron making its home in the pits of your stomach mixed with rumors that never seem to die down, maybe. There should be a warning sign, Patron & gossip: can lead to shamelessly flirting and innocently talking about topics like hookups and sex—with Lando Norris no less. 

And Lando…

He’s better than this, he knows he’s better than this, letting your suggestions lurch him into a debauched daydream of the two of you coming to a head in the bedroom of his home, skin hot from fleeting touches instead of warm alcohol, hands grabbing underneath the shirt hung over your body and finally being able to do what no other man could—

“It’s not going to happen.” 

—do for you.

You bring him out of his thoughts when you quickly dismiss the entire idea (disappointingly so), “I brought it up because I’m…bored, and drunk.” the tone of your voice goes high enough to pan your mumbled words out as a question, even you sound unconvinced of yourself. 

Lando recognizes your doubts just as you do. “You suuuure about that?” He says in a way that has you giggling schoolgirlishly into his arms and makes this a little more not-so-awkward. “You know you don’t need to lie to me.” 

While there's probably some truth to his reassuring words, he’s being bad, he wants this—maybe even more than you do, you can tell. It makes you a bit more still, knowing that he’s also, to some extent, got a hard on for you in a one-off sense. Meanwhile, Lando’s mind is going a mile a minute (it’s characteristic of someone who actually goes a mile a minute for a living), carefully observing your expressions to see what it is you’re thinking—to some degree he is a gentleman, if you say the words, he’ll forget anything was ever mentioned.

But boy does he want it.

Glassy eyes seem to pierce yours for what seems like an eternity, “Lando…” You hope your voice is calmer than how you feel, but it’s not promising; the world around you feels standstill—like you can’t even breathe for air. 

“Don’t say my name like that.” He mumbles, eyes softening at how your body relaxes into his own. The two of you dance around the point of no return, still, magnetically you gravitate towards it. You want to embrace it tonight, and worry about the mess brewing tomorrow.

“Fucking hell.” He curses in the endearing way only a Brit can, arm circling the small of your back and lips ghosting against your own, “it’s just a one time thing.” 

“Just this once…”

Just this once is what you tell yourselves when his lips catch your own, tongue languidly breaching your mouth whilst pulling you closer into him as you fall into his touch and wrap your arms around his neck. It’s just this once that he’ll push away plates and keys to pick you up and sit you on the kitchen counters for you to entangle your fingers within his curls, moaning for more as he kisses his way around your neck.

It’s just this once you’ll sleep with him.

—

Lando, like with everything else, is a massive tease. You should complain, but the feeling of warm hands hiking up your t-shirt short circuits your nerves and limits whatever capability you have to bite back, so you take it all; the ghostly touches, trailing kisses along your jaw, and hands wandering from the crux of your neck down to your entrance.

It aches so unfamiliarly, cotton panties are tugged haphazardly to the side and your pussy is wet and overstimulated. 

Yes, that’s the word you’ve been looking for. It’s all so overstimulating, the fading pulsations of your last orgasm brought on from having two thick fingers scissoring out of you, the puffiness of your nipples still sensitive from Lando’s ongoing oral fixation, and the feeling of his dick messily slotting itself between folds and up against your clit, it’s all just so much. 

“Lando…” You whine, “c’mon.”

He mocks you with a haughty smile, repeating his name shamelessly in a pitch much higher than your own. There’s little to be embarrassed about, yet you feel so exposed, in both a literal and figurative sense. He’s drawn two orgasms out of you with such ease, like your body is as simple to navigate as a track, all without even fucking you properly. Somewhere deep down you’re grateful he’s so observant; it’s a wildly different experience than what you’re used to in every way possible.

“Did you want me to do something? You need to use your words.” He feigns ignorance, like he doesn’t feel the clinging drag of your naked hips against his crotch. Right now, there is nothing nice about Lando—he’s brought you to the edge and left you to plead for him to dig his hands into the meat of your thighs and finally fuck you as promised. 

And with eyes barred shut, you do ask for it, muttering a quaint just put it in with a hushed whimper that shoots straight through him, fueling some kind of excessive desire to give it to you straight. 

“Lan!” Your instincts to twitch take hold of you when you feel the tip inch into you, stretching you out more than anything else. 

“Relax.” He soothes not only you, lazily thumbing your clit to distract your body from the unnerving stretch of him bottoming out, but also himself; there’s a prayer he’s mumbling at the back of his mind, asking for strength to keep him from succumbing to the biting grip your walls welcome him with, he could cum on entry alone. “That feel good?”

It feels great, but you can’t find the words to talk, so you opt for the drawn out whine that amplifies to a full moan when he finds his rhythm. You guess Lando fucks like he races, wild but calculated, hard and fast. His thrusts push you up closer to the headboard, and you think you see stars with each one. Lando’s dilated eyes are focused on the way your boobs move in tandem with his hips, which roll into your own unforgivingly. 

If this is what he gets when he does well, he needs to get those wins and that championship, as soon as possible. 

“Just like that, Lan.” You exhale out, fingers darting to grapple at his wild brown tufts, “I want more of you. Need it.”

To hear you say you need him, it makes him somewhat insane. His body is eager to close in on your own, lips ghosting over your jaw and inching closer to your ear as a hand gently finds its way to your neck.

“You feel so perfect.” He’s so breathless, practically whining into your ears about just how good you feel, It doesn’t reach you, you’re too focused on feeling every inch of dick buried into you. It feels like he’s mushing up your insides, hitting spongy walls that desperately cling to him. Every thrust is harder than his last, and the way the trimmed hair resting above his base brushes against your clit provides all the extra stimulation that has your head lazily rolling to the side.

You’re not sure when you cum, but you do. It’s wet and his name is hot on your tongue, as if you’re cheering him on to fuck you through your orgasm, and who is he to deny you? Lando’s undoubtedly happy to see the pleasure he’s giving you, his eyes blowing wide at the feeling of his lower abdomen growing soaked by your arousal. 

“Look at you,” he marvels, prideful and horny, “ever done that before?”

You haven’t—it freaks you out, yet despite all of your hurried apologies and groans of embarrassment, Lando finds himself dipping his head into the crux of your neck to suppress a groan. You’re so pretty it hurts him, his hips bore deeper into yours, hoping to get closer than humanly possible. 

When he kisses you, your legs slither around his waist as if to cage him. You’ll be the death of him—the two of you are playing a dangerous game, and you both know it. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” he smiles against your lips, and your body melts like putty, malleable enough for him to pry your legs from its digging into his back and push them closer towards you by your thighs. 

His pace noticeably falters when you flutter around him. You’re muttering something about coming inside, pleading for it—but he pays you no mind; you’re intoxicated by the feeling of dopamine, and as much as he would love it, the feeling of stuffing you full, he’s a smarter man than that.

He cums with a guttural fuck, barely managing to rip himself away from your clutches and spill himself onto your stomach—and you just watch, doe eyed and jolted by the warm feeling on your skin. You both pant heavily against one another, until all you can hear is the noise of the London night leaking in from an ajar window.

“Hey.” He lazes out, rubbing circles on your thigh.

“Hi.”

“This can’t—” happen again, get out to anyone—there’s so much he could say, but you would rather not hear it. Not tonight.

“Yeah.”

❀❀

tags: @babyvinnie @leclercdream @im-an-overthinker@ririyulife @1655clean @sukisheadlights @harrysdimple05 @drunkinthemiddleoftheday

(if bolded i couldn’t tag you i’m so sorry!)

[nininikki]

divorced-ish — n. kento

content warnings: ex-husband!nanami, delusional!nanami (he’s cute tho)

author’s note: sigh i need him

ex-husband!nanami who just couldn’t stay away from you if he tried

ex-husband!nanami who you’d originally separated from on account of his work seeming to hold more priority over you, and then your newborn daughter.

ex-husband!nanami who still keeps a photo of you and the baby on his desk at his job (which, ironically, was the thing that ultimately led to his marriage failing). when asked by his nosey secretary why he still kept the photo, he only responded, “it’s my family. why wouldn’t i?”

ex-husband!nanami who had yet to actually finalize the divorce. but really, it wasn’t his fault. he just hadn’t gotten around to sending the papers over (or having them printed up at all), what with all those crazy shifts at work. oh, well, it didn’t matter. he would do it at some point.

ex-husband!nanami who had left you virtually everything in the not-so-finalized-divorce. the four bedroom, four bathroom house, your diamond 6 carat engagement ring, your wedding china, the aston martin db9 he had gifted you for your birthday, the park avenue apartment, the country house in monaco—all of it.

ex-husband!nanami who you had never been able to turn down whenever he stayed over just a little later after dropping the baby back off with you. the two of you would sit on the couch and catch up over a glass of wine. then one glass turned to two, then two to three. and for a minute it would almost feel as if you were still married.

nanami never ended up leaving until the late hours of the night. by which point you began to wonder where he’d gotten all the free time he couldn’t seem to find when you were actually married.

ex-husband!nanami who internally scoffed whenever you mentioned going on a date with another man.

“do you think you could watch her on saturday? i’ve got a date i really don’t wanna miss.” you’d asked at the tail end of an already too long (thirty minute) phone call.

nanami breathed a recognizable, pensive sigh on the other end, chewing through what he’d earlier told you was tempura, but considering how long it was taking him to answer, it may as well have been your nerves.

“you know i will, but, uh,” you heard him swallow. “a date?”

although your ex-husband didn’t exactly sound like he was joking, you couldn’t help the giggle that vibrated through your body. glancing at the clock on your nightstand that read eight-thirty and the baby sleeping soundly in the crib next to your bed, you propped the house phone between your ear and shoulder. what was the harm in killing another thirty minutes?

“yes, kento, a date. his name is scott. he’s an art dealer. i think you’d like him.”

“does scott know you’re still married?”

“separated,” you corrected him. “and no, he doesn’t. do you tell every woman who asks you out that you’re married?”

nanami hesitated for a second before answering, “yes, i do.”

ex-husband!nanami who came to your house with flowers and a store bought pumpkin pie for thanksgiving. more than you’d like to admit, you liked having him around for the holidays. he was so good with the baby, and so attentive to everything else. cleaning up all the leftovers and stray baby toys as the night came to an end.

it was nearing ten o’clock when he had successfully put the baby to sleep, and then came down to help you tidy up the downstairs. “y’know you didn’t have to buy a pie, right?” you told him after you’d discovered it hidden amongst the array of leftover pots and aluminum pans. “i know it’s your favorite. i’d have made you some.”

nanami brought his task at hand (loading the dishwasher) to a stiff halt and joined you at the island countertop. “but hey,” you added, tearing the lid off the pie. “we could see if it’s as good as the real thing.”

your ex-husband, usually the most well-spoken man you knew, could only stiffly nod in your direction while you retrieved a pair of shiny silver forks, still in the drawer they’d always been in. “and i got some whipped cream if you want.” you added as you gave him a fork, now taken aback by his sudden lack of speech. seriously, he hadn’t spoken this little since the year leading up to your separation.

what you didn’t know was that nanami couldn’t speak if he wanted to. he needed this. the three of you hadn’t had a real holiday together since last halloween, and even that was admittedly very bleak. “i miss you,” nanami blurted.

and he did. he missed your desserts for every holiday—savory pumpkin pie for thanksgiving, sweet apple pie for christmas, strawberry eclairs for valentine’s day. he missed opening his eyes every morning to the sight of your face smushed into a pillow, or a bit of drool gathering at the corner of your mouth. he missed coming home from work to the sight of you and the baby sound asleep on the couch. he missed being your husband, and even more knowing you were his wife.

ex-husband!nanami who spent the night fucking his ex-wife into the couch as though they were still married. wrapping you in his strong arms, while murmuring promises of change and betterment. “i’ll never go to work again, swear,” he said, shuddering between deep thrusts. “please just take me back, baby.”

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

MDNI, Mentions of sex but no smut, violence.

Thinking about baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara who’s scow immediately returned to his face as soon as you and your daughter were out of sight. Wasting no time to march to the elevator and hit the button to your floor.

Baby daddy!Miguel who couldn’t help but let out a scoff in disgust when he turned the corner of your hall and saw Henry sitting on the floor against your door. Not noticing until he was close enough that he was passed out, head lulled to the side, and an occasional snores leaving him as Miguel glared down at him.

Baby daddy!Miguel who had to resist the urge to wake him up with a swift punch in the face, and not stop until he wasn’t conscious again.

Baby daddy!Miguel that opted to instead nudged him with the side of his foot. Wanting to see what bullshit he’s spew out first.

—

What you ever say in this guy, Miguel will never understand, what you’d see in any guy that wasn’t him he’d never understand. Although to be fair, when you were with him, he probably wasn’t as pitiful looking as this.

“Not so much of a cocky ass now huh?” He couldn’t help but mumble to himself before taking the heel end of his foot and nudged the smaller male's knee. “Wake up.”

After a few more nudges, Henry woke with a loud snore, droopy eyes looking around in confusion before he finally noticed the legs in front of him. Neck cracking up slowly until he was met with the sight of Miguel’s body hulking over him. The overhead lights casting a shadow over his face so he couldn’t read his expression, and if Henry was just a tad bit less drunk, he’d feel the death-like glare being casted on him.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” He slurred, remembering why he was outside your door in the first place.

“None of your business.” Miguel retorted, hands crossing in front of his chest. Despite his scary guard dog aura, Henry tsked in annoyance as he began to stand.

“I think knowing where my girlfriend is my business-“

“She’s not your girlfriend anymore.”

Silence filled the air as Henry was finally able to get himself up on two feet, before a scoff left his lips.

“She already told you. I’m not surprised.” Now it was Miguel’s turn to scoff.

“Of course she told me. I'm the father of her child-“

“I knew something had to still be going on with you two.” Henry’s finger jabbed into Miguel’s chest, his drunken slurring forming into a bit of a hiss. Not phasing the bored look on Miguel’s face. “I’m not fucking blind, I’ve seen the way you looked at her. You’re still in love with her.”

“Look, I’m not wanting to cause any problems,” that’s a lie, “but it’s obvious you’ve had too much to drink and are just talking nonsense. She doesn’t want to see you, alright? So how about you walk away and leave her and my daughter alone.” Miguel spoke calmly, not denying the allegations thrown his way before they both knew it was true.

Miguel’s hand found its way to Henry’s back, not-so-gently pushing him towards the elevator and away from your front door.

“I’m not stupid as you think I am, man.” Henry retorted, planting his heels into the wooden floor to stop himself, before turning around to face Miguel again. “You’re not over her, you don’t think I knew what you were doing at the barbecue when you were dancing with her? Practically fucking her in front of me.” Miguel’s jaw clenched to keep himself from acting irrationally as Henry hissed at him like a dog ready to attack. “The way you always try to one up me in front of her. I’ve seen your messages to her, the old photos, the Spanish nicknames-.”

“Alright that’s enough dude.” Miguel interrupted him. Tone returning to its harsher original one.

“I’m not surprised the minute the opportunity comes, she runs back to your ass!” Henry shoved against Miguel, causing no recoil from the larger man.

“I’m not the one who cheated on her.” Miguel snapped back.

“Yeah, but you were just waiting for the opportunity for me to fuck up. Look like some…knight in shining armor.”

“Okay, man let’s go. You’re not gonna be able to finish this fight. Go home.” That’s when he felt it, a harsh pain on the side of his face. He didn’t realize till he touched his cheekbone and hissed at the throbbing sensation that came from the area that had transpired.

Henry just punched him in the face.

“I wanted to be nice. You already put her through a lot of shit in the past few days.” He mumbled as he rubbed the stop that was sure to bruise black and blue. “But you decided to make this more difficult for yourself.”

Henry didn’t have a chance to reply before his back collided with the wall, air being knocked out from his lungs as Miguel’s hands found their way to Henry's throat.

“You wanna know what happened the night she caught your ass sleeping with another girl?” The question was rhetorical.

“…What?” Henry asked, voice meek under the weight of Miguel’s hands.

“I got her to stop crying, comforted her… got her some food… then I started fucking her till she starts to cry again.”

“You son of-“ Henry began, trying to thrash his way out from under Migue, only to have more pressure applied to his throat. He quickly stopped when he felt himself become light headed, arms that were around Miguel’s wrist drop back down to his sides, and a cough left his throat when the hands around his neck loosened slightly so he could breathe a bit more properly again.

“You’re gonna shut up and listen, and listen good.” Miguel began, his voice dropping down to just above a whisper. Allowing Henry to let out a frantic nod before continuing. “I was the one who comforted her when you fucked up and broke her heart. I was the one who was there to pick up the pieces, not you. I’m the only one who knows her better than she knows herself. I’m the father of her child, me. It was always gonna be me. You weren’t the one who changed her baby’s diapers, you weren’t the one who taught Gabi to ride a bike, you weren’t there for her like I was. You never will, because when it comes down to it, she’ll pick me over you, every. damn. time.”

Miguel didn’t know what felt better, finally getting Henry to shit his smug ass up, for being able to get all his frustrated thoughts out in words.

“She’s mine, she’s always been mine, she's always going to be mine. So don’t for another second, think that you can just walk back into her life and act like you own her. You don’t own shit, you understand?” Miguel finally ended his rant, eyes narrowed as he waited for Henry’s response. Satisfaction flowing through his veins when the smaller male looked like he had just just been face to face with the grim reaper himself.

“I-yeah, yes-I understand.” Henry finally stuttered, face paled, and eyes wide.

“Good, now I want you to walk out of this building, and walk out of her life. If I see you or hear you trying to talk to her ever again, I’m not gonna do as much talking next time.”

—

Part 8<

Not proofread.

Word count:1.2k

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

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[styxwanderer]

The Wrong Fake Identity | Twisted Wonderland |

[you turn into a cat beastman because of crowley being an ass]

<Part 1> Part 2 part 3 Part4 part 5 part 6 part 7

<Please ignore my grammar mistake as i do not speak English as my mother language, thank you and please enjoy!>

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*

"Due to the covered overblot incidents occurring in Night Raven College, the government of each island is requesting an inspecting, but you as somebody that originated from none of these islands are unrecorded by the government. Grim is fine because he can be disguise as a familiar but you, oh, what ever shall we do." Crowley spoke, hand on his check as if he was the most miserable person in the world. The person standing infront of him, the most respected and admired student from NRC. Managing to capture hearts and admiration since the incidents with the overblots stand still. 

"When will this be?"

"Tomorow morning."

The enthusiastic tone contras to the alerting news. 'Why didn't you tell me sooner you OLD CROWW!' you screeched in your head. you had been called to headmaster office as he give his revelation. You wished Grim is here with you and blasting the old crow with whatever insult that come to his mind, but he chooses to bail on you, opting to wait on the now cozy ramshackle dorm you both share. 

A bit of panic did manage to etch to your mind because you don't want any of them to take you away from your friends. "What do you propose?" 

"Simple, you will be locked away hidden in the cottage island you found near that ca-"

" Fuck no." 

" -or you accept this envelope I had gracefully taken time to buy with my own money and try your best to act accordingly. Oh, how good of a person am I."

" Why do you even suggest the first, when you'd had gotten me a fake id?" his shenanigans starting to irk you. you could even feel a vein popping out.

" For the drama of course. then after this go to sam to get your photo taken for the id"

you sigh as you opened the envelope containing your passport and id. 

" Headmage.."

"yes?"

" What the fuck is thisss?" you point of the id specifically on the species where a bold letter is etched on it.

"beastman?"

"Ah did i get the wrong one? oo.. oohohoo, my bad.. but it's too late for a chance now. Oh, look at the time, it has gotten so late! you better get to Sam now before he closes his shop. The inspection is tomorrow so good luck!" he pushed you out of his office and slam his door on your face.

' THE FUCKING AUDACITY OF THIS BITCH ! ILL PICK YOUR FEATHERS TILL YOU GO BALD OLD Crow' you grumbled as you begrudgingly make your way to Sam. 

Save to say, at the end of the day you left Sam anticipating the next day chaos and you are left with the illegally obtained transforming potion and a complete id and passport. Grim is laughing nonstop at the revelation enjoying whatever torture that will come to you the day after. 

Crowley had been cursed at least a hundred times in your head. you drank the potion to change you into a beastman as you fall asleep.

" i wonder what beastman you will become." Grim said as you both nuzzled up to sleep.

The morning come sooner than you wished, the lights blinding you awake. 

"God dammit when did the sun get shinier"

you went to scratch your ears only to find it gone. This had made you jolt awake, bolting to the giant mirror you go, accidentally waking Grim in process. 

"UWAAA!! what's the rush y/n?" Grim sleepily asked.

The mirror reflects your new figure, and you could only be one thing, and that is MORTIFIED. 

you screeched in distress. 

" WAAA!! what's your damage dude." Grim spoke now fully awake as he went to approach you who are crouching holding your new ears.

" i... I had become..."

" NYAHAHAHAHAHA!!! out of all beasts you have to become a cat! i can't wait till Ace and Deuce sees this!!!" His loud laugher filled the room. You don’t even know there is such thing as a cat beastman. You had thought all beastman is the undomesticated version of every animal, yet here you are in a tip pointed ears of not a wolf, not a lion but a GOD DAMN CAT. Your tail swishing in distress.

"Just you wait Grim, once you have a misfortune, I'll laugh it up your face!!" your retort went on deaf ears as he kept laughing

Poor you can only power through the embarrassment, not at all excited to meeting any of your friends. 'They're gonna have a fieldtrip about all of thisss' you cried. 

a brilliant idea come to mind, you decided to just go class with a hat and tuck your tail hiding it under your jacket. wishing the day had not start but ended. 

from your understanding back in your world, you know how many sickfucks is there obsessing over cat girls/boys. you hope today is different. please lord. 

<*>

the bell has rung signing students to enter the classrooms, that includes you in a hat and jacket to hide the transformation. Ace and deuce spotted you as you entered the class.

" Yo! y/n! what's with the hat and jacket?" Ace greeted you as you went to your usual seat. 

" aren't you hot in all of that layer?" deuce followed

" Listen, Y/n got --" 

in a speed of light, you quickly grab his muzzle shutting whatever information u rather not share with this mischievous creature.

" If you don't shut up, I won't buy you the premium tuna can anymore!" you huffed. 

"no fairrr!!" Grim whined 

the conversation was cut short as crewel entered the building

“Right, pups, get to your seat. Today we will have an inspection authorized by the governments since there is several overblots that occurred in this past month.”

“What? Why did they just tell us now?” Ace questioned

 The whole class was shocked by the revelation. 

“quite pups, as your homeroom teacher I expect you to be on your best behaviour. Now –“  crewel stopped in his track as he stared at your soul. 

‘Professor Crewel, please let go of my uniform misconduct, just this time.”

“y/n I believe the headmage had given you solution for this inspection, you would not need the whatever disguise you are wearing.”

“ uhm.. no this is not a disguise actually--”

“As I mentioned, there would be a inspection so I cannot oversee your uniform misconduct. Now take it of.”

You were sweating bullets. ‘FUCK!’ your head is ringing with alarm. You don’t know what to do so you just sat still. Crewel started to approach you.

“oi, what’s the big deal y/n c’mon he is getting mad!” Ace said

“They might have an allergy reaction to their head! Deuce chimed.

‘ thanks, but not helping deuce!!’ you mentally shriek as crewel is now standing Infront of you. 

“ now stop with this tom-foolery, I expected better from you.” He reached for your hat.

“AH! Wait-”

Crewel had yanked the hat off showcasing your cat ear. 

The silence before the collective gasp makes you want to curl up in your blanket. 

“PUWHAHAHAHHAH!!! You can’t even be a legit legit beastman !! ” Ace laughter break the silence as you flush in both anger and embarrassment. 

“ Pfftt, Domisticated beastman..” deuce joined in.

“ SHUT UP!!”

Crewel cleared his throat gaining an abrupt silence from the Adeuce duo, tapping his whipping stick repeatedly. 

“explain..”

“ Headmage, Crowley-“

“ haaaaaa, show me the id and passport.”

You quickly took them out of your bag and place them on your desk as he inspect both of them. 

“HAAAAA… unfortunately I still cannot allow you in that atrocious get up, so remove your jacket and hat” he signed loudly again, engraving in his mind to kill the old crow, after all you are always his favourite students, how could that crow torture you so relentlessly. Maybe if he get to give you the adoption paper this crow wouldn’t dare to mess with you anymore?

You sigh, relenting to your fate. Any speck of pride you have over yourself vanished. As you let your tail swish free. 

Ace is trying hard not to laugh over your embarrassed red faced. But honestly both are just captivated by your new look. The way your ears twitch and your red face, the way your new feature give you a docile look. Both ace and deuce suddenly find their textbook or the corner of the room fascinating as their face are getting darker.

These reactions are of course not limited to ace and deuce but to the other students as well. Crewel watch in disdain as his precious ( soon to be) children is getting flaunted by these beasts. He mentally take note to keep you safe from there unruly teens, but priority. His number one priority now is to get Crowley in his chokehold. 

 <*>

“RINGGGG!!”

The bell signing for lunch ended the class, causing you another brain aneurism, because now you have to go to the packed cafeteria, with guaranteed display to everybody attending NRC.‘FUCK FUCK FUCK’ 

“c’mon prefect lets go get lunch!” deuce said

“I’m so hungry!! Lets go hurry before they ran out of the good stuff!”

 “Easy for you to say! You don’t have a cat tail or ears…” you suck holding grim as you hesitated to walk out of the classroom.

“how bout this! I can hide you with my body!” Deuce said enthusiastically

“haaaaa, alright.. thanks” you went to cling to his back as you let grim down opting to squeeze the article on his back, using your meat shield to your fullest potential.

Deuce face burn bright with how close you are to him, ‘this is like a hug from the back!’ he squeal internally. 

“r-right! Just stay close to me!” if he was given the opportunity then why not use it. He will definitely treasure this moment till the day that he passes.

“H-Hey! I can be your shield too you know!.”

“Deuce beat you to it, pal.” Grim jeered

You peek from your meat shield giving Ace a tongue out as you went back to hiding. What can a guy do when your insult is also cute. He can’t but just try to save his pride as he hides it with his teasing, just like a kindergartener. 

The four of you arrives at the cafeteria as a realisation dawn on you. You needed more meat shield. 

You dragged ace to line with deuce as you slid you press yourself against the wall creating and effective human wall, Ace didn’t mind being a flesh wall he just hoped he is  facing you instead of the other way around.

It all went swimmingly the four of you were spotted by your other friends.

“ what the hell are you up to?” Epel asked still unaware that you are clinging to their back hiding behind them. 

“Oh us? We are just here to get some lunch right? Deuce?” 

“o-Oh yeahh righttt! We are hiding anything at all.” 

Ace hit deuce foot as he grumbles at his idiocy and deuce to panicked to retort.

“yeahhh.. right” Epel narrows his eyes suspiciously.

“seriously guys today is the inspection day at least behave yourself while these governments representative are observing us.” Jack huff, crossing his arms disapprovingly.

“seriously! We aren’t ,making any trouble promise!” Ace the pro mischief maker he is, retorded without fail

“I double that” deuce half-shouted.

“ohh? The why did your heart rate is higher than normal?” the humanoid,Ortho joined in ganging up on acedeuce duo, 

“CEASE THIS NONESENSE IMMIDEATLY, HUMANS” 

“eep!” Sebek’s loud voice seems to ring harder on your ears making you let out an involuntary sound. 

“ Not so loud crocodile boyy, my ears are ringing.” Grim grumbled as he hold his ears.

“ I feel you now Grim.” You mentally said.

“ AH what is that!” epel accused as he slip past the human wall you created and be greeted with you.

“no wait!” Deuce tries to save but he was too late.

You in cat ears and tail.

Your ears continuously twitching. 

You have tail.

“uh hi? Epel?” 

Epel wondered if the mushroom in his plate is the right kind of mushroom or is he about to die and be greeted by one final sight of you. 

Is this bliss?

IS this heaven…?

“ oi.. Epel? Whats the problem?”

The other three curious of what Epel was seeing push through.

And there you are as a beastman. A cat beastman.

Jack howl.exe has stopped working

Sebek zigvolt.exe stopped working

Ortho.exe has taken rapid shot 

He is making sure his brother gets to see you like this as well. The picture is auto sent to Idia’s device.

Jack’s fluffy white tail began frantically wagging

Sebek the loudest of the loud manage to be the quietest.

The three of them felt blood rushed up their heads, while Deuce and Ace share a sense of ‘i get you.’ Vibe to the other four. 

In collective silence the four of them created a bigger human wall shield continuing adeuce duo’s wall.

“the wall keeps getting bigger and bigger! Yeahh! This will tell people that the great Grim is passing through!! “ Grim shouts.

 You would laugh at his antics but now just not the time. 

You pick grim up as to cover yourself with him as well, using his body to cover as much face as you can while u hunched trying to be invincible. 

Of course this meant letting go of ace and deuce much to their disappointment. 

The sixth of them wish they were born as some werebeast so easily carried by you and 

“We need explanation but for now let’s get some food.” 

With the group all agreeing to stay in formation you went. To get the food in line. 

You had manage to make grim cover your ear while u get food for him and you, you of course give him extra chicken for all the hard work.

Everything was going swell, or so you thought.

“BOOO!” 

In a speed that u had never achieved before you jump very high up into a table in an offense position hissing. Only then you had realized you fucked up. 

Grim had fallen off your head showing full out your new cat ears and tail.

‘Oh great sevens.’ You wanted to mentally bash yourself because what the fuck is that reflex.

The old bat had froze in his track as his eyes widened at your new form. He found your new form rather endearing, plus what kind of reaction can you show now? 

The whole cafeteria had gone silent so have your before jack covered you up with his jacket and scooped you up off the table and ran. All the other first year in tow.

“ MIND YA OWN BUSINESS, There is nothing to see here!” You could hear Epel shouted. 

“Run run run!” Ortho speed hover. 

“I WILL STUN YOU IF YOU FOLLOW US HUMANS!” Sebek shouted.

You could hear vil shouting to Epel for him to stop and order to Rook who is still in a paralyzed mode.

You could hear Riddle threatening Ace and Deuce to stop or not he would cut off their heads which only make them ran faster. Trey and carter trying to calm their dorm leader while also thinking of a plan to steal u away. 

Floyd was whining about how they are taking the little shrimp-cat away from him to jade. 

Azul still stuck in his trance.

Kamil shouting for you to come back, 

jamil silently planning murder to get u back.

Leona chuckling saying something about a hunt to ruggie who is also chuckling in amusement.

Silver shocked with how sebek is involved, but then again you are involved so he should’ve expected it and also your new form. Malleus also is laughing, amused.

Truth be told the first year gang had scoop you up not only to save you but also to fulfill their desire, your new form that had enhance your cuteness should only be for them and theirs only. They found you first! Not those second or third year! You belonged to them! You are one of us! They do not want any body to see you like this. They don’t deserve it.

Although Sebek won’t mind sharing this sight with Malleus he thinks no body deserves to see you like this especially with their lust filled eyes.

Lilia chuckle as he snapped out of his trance.

“Kufufufu, it seems the kitten has been kidnapped by a big bad rebellion.. it’s time to teach them to know their place isn’t.” 

“ father.. what are you planning?” 

“Truly a wise word, Lilia. Whatever shall we do to teach these rebellious kids to never steal from a dragon.”

“You mean a lion?” Leona  now annoyed with the declaration. 

“ you and them? Ha you are most incompatible with them.”

“Are you sure about that? She is a beastman now, and most beastman are in the reigh of sunset savanna, ultimately my kingdom. Plus i am the original of their beastkin, she would be most compatible with me.”

“She could live in luxury in briar valley as the wife of a king instead of just some lousy king.”

“Ha what is that?”

“Or a general wife you kno.”

“Not you too Lilia!.”

“Excuse me! I know them more and better than any or you!” Riddle now involved in the conversation.

“ oh my, i can’t even imagine the fate they will have if you get to her.”

“Ha what do you mean by that?”

“What i meant is simply, your “rules” is definitely going to be atrocious to follow. If she were with me she would live happily in riches.”

“And wet underwater? Oh how bad that would be for her poor skin. She would much rather go with me draped in fame and gold.”

“ as if! She would rather be with me!”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Fine let’s settle it like a sensible being. The one who manage to capture her first would have the right to be with her.” The lion declared.

“Such a wise statement coming from you, Rook prepare yourself.” 

“Ouii, a game of hunt! I agree.” Standing tall beside the fair king, he readied himself. 

“This whole thing is dumb, of course they would choose me, but for the sake of your dignity i will participate this game. Besides i have to collar a few underclassmen of mine” The red hair boy stands.

“Oo sounds fun, Jade, Floyd we will have a change if schedule, it seems to be perfect day for hunting.”

“Yes, Azul.”

“Yes,Azul~”

“As if you all could beat me the crown prince of briar woods himself.”

With the whole dorm agreeing to play the game of hunt, they set the hunt to begin after school finished (curtesy of Riddle), lets just say you might want to wish that your group got a memo of this and tries to save you from them and not take you for themselves of course .

Meanwhile-

“Of course they wouldn’t choose me.” 

“But… if i can catch them then they will have no other choose, hahaha.” The flamey blue haired guy spoke

[3251 word]

>>To be Continued<<

.·:*¨༺ ❈ ༻¨*:·.

[lanabuckybarnes]

💳💳💳 take all my money but pleeeeease write more about dirty big boy Lee who wants to give you his son because that small drabble had me sweatin already😮‍💨

Ask and thee shall receive!

Breeding Bitch

18+ MINORS DNI

(I do not own any photos, Credits to original owners)

Uhhh so this is fucking….maybe the warnings would describe this a bit better hehe 👀.

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Reader

Warnings: Dark Lee!, LEE BODECKER!!, Dub/Non-Con Themes, Unestablished Age Gap but there is definitely one (Reader 20s, Lee late 30s/40s), Cheating (it's Lee), Teeny Size Kink if you squint, Names: Darlin, Good Girl, Baby, Slut, Bitch, Whore, Heifer, Girl. Handcuffing, Good ole Gaslighting, Degradation, Gagging, Dirty Talk, Cervix Abuse, Voyeurism? (Your father is in the next room), He uses the fact that your Pa is so close to his advantage, Mentions of Breeding, actually Breeding, Alcohol (Again, It’s Lee), Marking, Biting, Slapping, Bleeding (from yer cooch), Spitting, Daddy Kink, Rough P in V, Threats (Lee threatens your teeth), Dacryphilia, Panty Stuffing, Absolutely zero aftercare— if I’ve missed anymore, especially in a story like this one, please lemme know!!

DO NOT PROGRESS IF ANY WARNING(s) TRIGGER YOU PLEASE!!

Word Count: 1.2k

This is a doozy. I’ll put a lil palette cleanse at the end for you my loves ♥️

“Augh shit you’re fucking tight” Lee growls above you, cock head pushed uncomfortably against your cervix, your hands cuffed above your head and your panties in your mouth.

You would never admit this to anyone. The almost nightly occurrences of Lee ending up in your little cottage on the hill, his pants round his ankles and his cock wherever he so chose.

It was his wife’s fault, he’d told you; she was sick, old and unable to give him what he wanted. That’s why when you moved into town, bright-eyed and innocent, he had to have you.

His head rolled with his eyes, a strained groan flowing from his lips as his tummy jiggled softly at the tightening of his core.

“Never get over a tight little pussy like this” You whined as he pushed further, sheathing his dick fully inside you.

What would your daddy say if he saw you like this, legs spread akimbo for a married man, the Sheriff no less? Your hands pulled against the cuffs attached to the headboard, the rhythmic clanging had Lee’s eyes shooting open.

“Hey now! Darlin” a huge hand smoothed over your metal clasped wrists before running down your arm to your left breast, he squeezed firmly.

“You wouldn’t want your daddy waking up now would you?” that fucking smirk, the dark look in his eyes— he had you, right where he wanted— the reminder of your feeble old Pa in the next room keeping you tamed, Lee didn’t care about him finding out about your little secret, he’d fuck you right in front of him, but he knew it would keep you pliant for him.

You stopped, hands hanging painfully from the cuffs.

“Good girl, knew you’d come around…now you let me breed this little cunt, loosen up a bit, enjoy it” The brandy on his breath had you queasy as it mixed with his residual cologne. His thick lips peppered marks all over your breast, tongue licking the flesh before biting down with a force that had your toes curling and you crying out into the cotton of your panties.

“Oh don’t be dramatic” he chuckled, slapping the reddened mark lightly. He groaned as he pulled his length out slowly, letting you feel each inch run over the stretched flesh of your heat until his cock head fell from you in a sickly squelch, his precum mixed with your blood.

“God baby, you’re fucking soaked…you like me doing this to you? Course you do you fucking slut” Lee gleams wickedly before launching a huge glob of spit over your clit and his head, his thick fingers circling your clit once, twice and then rubbing the saliva over himself.

He keeps your head still, forcing you to look at him as he pushes in again, making you watch as his dark eyes swim with amusement at your pathetic little whimpers.

“Mmmn…you know, if I didn’t have to do this, I’d feel bad for your stupid little face” Lee laughs, slapping his fingers against your cheek mockingly.

His patience had worn thin, you were lucky enough to get this much prep from him but he was over it now— the growing itch to fill your fertile little hole with his cum becoming too overwhelming.

He slams in, hitting your already abused cervix painfully. His pace is brutal, the only thing stopping the headboard from clattering off the wall being the pillow he’d so ‘generously’ placed between them.

“Oh shit! you fucking little breeding bitch, ahh I ain’t ever had a pussy this tight… fucking made for me, wasn’t it? Yeah, it fucking was” Lee rambles, as he usually does. You could do nothing but take whatever he was giving you, you wouldn’t dare fight back— did you even want to at this point? He had you all cock drunk, stupid little baby so you were.

“Mmm, baby you like this” Lee spoke assertively, punctuating each word with a hard thrust “Push me away as much as you want but at the end of the day you’re still gonna take my load happily… I mean look” he laughs as he pushes your legs from his wide shoulders, they fall open on their own. “You fucking hold yourself open for my spunk, you fucking want this, you need it… you want my son ya little slut”

The quick yank of your panties from your mouth made you gag slightly, the drool that had gathered falling from the corner of your mouth and into your tresses of hair. It amused Lee, watching you stare off into that little space you ran to, unable to control your body— you let him fuck you however he wante— no, however you needed.

Lee’s hand clasped around your face painfully, his thumb hooking behind your teeth “fucking answer me whore, or I’ll pull these out” a firm tug to your lower jaw warned you before he spat again, the hot liquid falling right on your tongue.

“I want this… wan you! Want your baby! Please Lee gimme your baby” you wailed, no longer caring about your volume.

“Good little slut, always begging for daddy ain’t you? You take this fucking baby, you take everything I give you” Lee’s pace stuttered, only for a second, but it told you everything you needed to know and you were disgusted at the way your body pled for it. The way your back arched, your pussy squeezing and frantic cries fell from your lips as your orgasm slammed into you like a train.

“Oh shit! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Lee practically screamed as he sank himself into one last time, releasing spurt after spurt of his thick, hot, cream against your bruised womb entrance. You don’t know how long his dick sat in your throbbing canal, only falling from you once he was fully soft.

“God, who’d I fucking bless to get a little heifer like you hmm?” He spoke eventually, kissing your cheek, allowing his tongue to poke out and lap at the salty tears falling freely from your big sad eyes.

“Don’t look so fucking upset at this, it’s a good thing, you’re being used for something great…I know girls that would have their panties round their ankles in no time if I let them” He chuckled while standing, fingers gripping your discarded undergarments to wipe along his cock, gathering his cum, and your slick; which had a tinge of red from the tear in your fragile skin he caused by stretching you out.

Once he deemed himself clean enough, he ran the panties through the mess pouring from your core.

“This won’t do, you’re supposed to keep it in” He tutted before pushing the soaked material into your stretched hole, his fingers stuffing the scratchy fabric into you carelessly. He made quick work of the cuffs digging painfully into your wrists, placing a quick peck over each dark mark around them.

“Tomorrow, I don’t want none of this fighting bullcrap you hear? No panties, no bra, no attitude— just you, alright girl?” He pushed your cheeks together, puckering your lips in the process.

You knew that what you said to him wouldn’t matter, he’d take you all the same so you just nodded like you would every single time his cerulean stare flickered over your much smaller structure.

“Atta girl” His lips grazed over your own, and then like a ghost, he was gone, leaving you to sob in a pile of your own mess.

-

I’m so sorry for him, he’s not usually like this, I promise he’s a nice guy 😔 🚩

Here’s your payment~

[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (4 of 4)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief discussion of verbal, emotional, and physical injury canon-typical swearing, protective Simon, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

You might not be his anymore, but Ghost doesn't believe so. When you reach out to him, Ghost makes every excuse to come over, knowing that he can get you back if you just realize that you've always only been his.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

Simon stands in the middle of your living room.

He is blood-drenched. Lead-hungry.

Full of venom. Full of fury.

His gaze sweeps over the busted television, the broken bookshelves, and the massive hole in the wall. There are bent picture frames empty of their glass. The photos within are either missing or partially torn. Whiskey stains the wall, running down from the impact point in little ribbons of amber.

Simon’s hands curl into fists.

This is so much fucking worse than what he originally thought. The living room doesn’t even scratch the surface. The kitchen is completely trashed, so is your bedroom where your boyfriend decided to shred up your clothes in anger.

Your… “boyfriend.”

That fucker should be grateful he isn’t here to face Simon. If he were, Simon would make him suffer. Make the prick eat his teeth.

On the phone, you were delirious, each word running together anger, frustration, and a fear that Simon felt in his gut. It sat heavy in his ears. That was enough for Simon to forget all responsibility and come to you.

Otherwise, Simon would not have come. You are not his woman anymore. That obligation to comfort doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to your boyfriend, but he’s the cause of all this suffering.

Why should you seek that bastard out?

No. Simon is glad you called him even though the circumstances turn his stomach and fill his veins with sludge.

He turns around and finds you lingering nearby. Your eyes are red with irritation, and your cheeks are puffy. Simon longs to pull you into his arms, yet hesitates only because you might push him away.

Simon unclenches his hands, flexing his fingers. “You’re breaking up with him.”

He’s not going to step around or sugar-coat this. Simon has always been blunt with his words, and this will be no different.

Your back straightens, hands clasped in front of you, fingers curled around the neckline of your sweater. “Simon—”

“It’s not a suggestion.” Simon lifts his arm, indicating the disaster of an apartment. “This is who he is. This will happen again.” He drops his arm.

Your chest expands. Deflates. “But—”

“Don’t defend him.”

“I’m not,” you snap.

Simon strides forward but you do not retreat. You stand tall, staring up into Simon’s face. Though your cheeks are stained with your tears, you’re beautiful.

“Next time it won’t be the wall or your television. It will be you he hurts.” Simon shakes his head. “And I won’t allow that.” You open your mouth as if to interrupt but Simon is having none of that. “I’ll kill him before that happens.”

“No. You won’t.”

“I will,” he growls. “I’ve never lied to you. Think I’m lying about this?”

Simon watches your throat bob as you swallow. He knows you understand. Fucking hell, he might be distant at times, even cold or blunt, but he never lies to you. Simon has always told you exactly what’s on his mind. Sometimes it has been to his detriment.

It is one of the reasons the two of you broke up. Simon didn’t want to end things. He respected your wishes, but even upon leaving, Simon still considered you his. The issue was with him and how he communicated with you about things. Emotionally, he was fucking distant. Not all the time, but enough that it seemed like he didn’t care.

That’s far from the truth, but Simon didn’t see any of it until you put it all out in front of him and decided to leave. Only then did he realize, and he did fucking everything to work on himself.

Fresh tears develop in the undersides of your eyelids. That’s it for him. It’s over.

Simon moves in, clasping the sides of your face with both hands. “Do you understand?” he asks softly, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

You don’t nod or even make a sound.

It’s not enough. Simon needs confirmation.

“He will escalate. He will get worse. You will be a target. Tell me you understand.”

There is a sniffle before you speak. “I know,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly.

Simon sighs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. You’re warm. A beacon of light in the disaster of a room. He leans in, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. He inhales and his lung fill with you.

With a final squeeze, Simon places a kiss to the crown of your head. He pulls back, but just enough to look at you. “I’ll clean up.”

“I can help.”

Simon shakes his head. “No. Sit. I want to do this for you.”

Your brow softens, arms falling away from him as you step back and glide to the sofa.

Simon tackles the bedroom first, shoving all your damaged clothes into trash bags. He organizes everything, making sure nothing is out of place, that it appears as it did before your boyfriend trashed it all. When he’s done, Simon returns to you, putting you to bed.

“Don’t leave,” you murmur, and Simon doesn’t. He curls up next to you, holds you until your breathing becomes shallow and slow.

Only then does Simon unfurl himself, slipping away. He doesn’t leave the flat. He shuts the bedroom door and gets to work, picking up the shattered glass, sending the television to the large rubbish bin. He orders you a new one and schedules it for delivery. He sweeps the floor and returns everything to your kitchen cabinets. Anything that is torn or broken gets trashed. Simon works through your clothes last. Sitting on the living room floor, Simon shifts through every one, trying to see if anything is salvageable. Most of it is, but there is plenty he has to toss.

Simon works until there is nothing left. It’s incredibly late, the time creeping close to the rising of the sun. Returning to the bedroom, Simon kicks off his shoes and removes the balaclava. You’ve seen his face countless times, and showing it now is normal.

When Simon slips into the bed beside you, and your body shifts, turning in his direction. He slides over into your reaching arms. The moment your bodies come together, you sigh with pleasure, and the noise goes straight to his groin.

But Simon won’t. He won’t push. This is not about him.

Sleep floods in, and it is your soft hands caressing his face that eventually wake him.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, voice harsh from dreaming.

“Morning, Simon,” you reply, resting your chin on his chest.

This is how mornings used to be. It sends Simon into memory and the days when he knew he was in love.

Was?

No.

Is. He still is. He still loves you utterly. That never stopped for him.

Your hands are not idle. After caressing his face, they move downward. The shift in your motions sends little shivers through his spine. They are visible and sharp. You inhale, and Simon begins to lean in. You mimic him but pause before your mouths can meet.

“Do you have to go?”

Simon captures one of your wrists with his hand, caressing the pulse point there with his thumb. “I can stay as long as you like.”

The smile that spreads across your face warms him everywhere. He wants to savor it forever. Your gaze drops from his eyes to his mouth. Then, your head shifts to glance at his chest and stomach. He might be wearing a shirt but Simon feels bare under your attention.

As your gaze returns to his face, Simon’s resolve melts away.

Fuck it. He’s doing this.

Grabbing the back of your neck, Simon closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours. There is no hesitation or resistance. You melt into him, and Simon has to hold back a moan. Every kiss is tender. Sweet. He’s missed this—missed you so fucking much it’s a raging inferno under his skin.

There is no part he leaves untouched. His hands roam everywhere, seeking closeness. Seeking your warmth.

“Simon,” you whimper against his mouth.

“I’m right here, love.”

You push upward, swinging your leg over his body, straddling him. Simon is momentarily stunned but you’re already returning to him, pressing you lips to his. He groans and grips your neck harder as your hips rolls against him.

“Simon,” you repeat, and his name on your lips is shifting him around, turning his insides out, revealing all his weaknesses.

His hands and your hands tug and pull. Moving clothing. Shoving bedding aside. When you start to sink down on him, Simon has to break the frantic kissing to breathe deep, to praise you in all the ways he knows how.

Your hands are solid against his chest. An anchor as you rock back and forth.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“Fuck,” he repeats, elongated the vowel as your pussy lightly squeezes him.

Above him, the air from your lungs releases from you in little sighs that creep into his ears and burrow in the folds of his brain. They are collected there. Remembered.

Using his grip on the back of your neck, Simon pulls you right back in, claiming your mouth. You open for him perfectly, your hips momentarily stalling as all your attention shifts to this one connection.

But Simon needs that movement. He craves it like the birds need the wind.

Wrapping his free arm around your waist, Simon flips you onto your back. There is no pause between the time Simon flips you and when he starts to thrust. It is instant. An impulse. A driving force that overcomes him.

Your fingers claw at his back, your legs hooking around the backs of his thighs, drawing him closer. If that is what you want, Simon will do it. Happily.

Pressing his forehead to yours, the two of you exchange breaths. The bed strikes the wall in repeated thuds, pleasure pooling in the base of Simon’s spine.

“Don’t—” You inhale. Exhale. “Stop.”

Growling, Simon presses his mouth to your neck, his pace increasing until his thrusting becomes an erratic, desperate thing. He hears you moaning, feels your pussy clenching down to keep him inside.

It’s too fucking much.

Simon’s own release roils up from the depths. His hips grind forward, creating a seal as he comes. His entire body shivers as one of your hands cradles his cheek. The touch is so soft he almost doesn’t recognize it at first.

But then you curl your fingers under his chin, guiding his face away from your neck to stare into your eyes. He starts to pull away, but your feet stay locked over the back of his legs, keeping him inside you.

Simon smirks.

He has you.

It might not be perfect or even solid, but he has his way in.

You haven’t said it, but you don’t need to.

You are his.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @kittytiddywinks @cinnabeanz @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

[irisintheafterglow]

he's the death you chose (you're in terrible danger)

summary: married life with husband!gojo means cleaning up bodies at 2am.

wc: 1k

cw/tags: mentions of violence, blood, and deaths (nothing graphic), mild angst/comfort with happy ending, some swearing, yes this is the albatross coded

note: honestly not sure where this came from! was just listening to ttpd and thought about what being married to gojo realistically would be like (aka always being targeted as his weakness that it becomes routine). hope you like it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

Wise men once said, “Don’t sleep with your windows open,” and you should have listened to them. If you had, there wouldn’t be three dead mercenaries in your living room, and another somewhere in your kitchen. There were five, originally, but you figured the last one was being hunted down a hallway as he tried to escape your building. The blood-spotted microwave’s clock reads 2:08 when you glance at it to grab cleaning supplies from the cupboard. 2:10 is when Satoru re-enters the apartment and kicks off his shoes. 

“I called Ijichi; he’s sending over cleaners right now,” he says, carefully stepping around the blood and curse guts splattered on the floorboards. Stray drops of who knows what speckle the photos on the bookshelf and he wipes them with his sleeve, scowling. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” 

“Yeah, there’d probably be less of a mess,” you admit, wiping down the kitchen island and guiding the crumbs and dust into the trash. “But they’d still be dead, so I guess it doesn’t really matter in the end.” 

“You handled yourself pretty well for being out of the country for a few months,” he adds appreciatively, retrieving the carpet cleaner from under the sink and sprinkling it onto the living room floor. “I still think it’d be better if you lived on-campus, though.” He squints in the pale moonlight at the pile of abrasive powder and decides to dump a little bit more for good measure. 

“I know–Hey, what’d I tell you about wasting the carpet cleaner? A little goes a long way, remember?” Satoru sets the tube down and puts his hands up in surrender, reaching back and tightening his blindfold before he approaches you in the kitchen. “I can hear your thoughts as they make their way to your mouth, dear.” 

“Look, I know what you’re gonna say–”

“Don’t ask what you’re about to ask, then, if you already know the answer,” you interject with that lightning-quick wit he adored so much. You move to grab the broom from next to the fridge, but he gently catches your wrist and turns you to face him. 

“You’d be safer there,” he continues and you pull your lips into a tight line. 

“Only place I’m safe is wherever I'm with you, realistically.” You had a point. In any other circumstance, the sentiment would be sweet if it wasn’t horribly true. You’d heard time and time again from Satoru how he stared restlessly at the ceiling, anxious about what danger might be coming wherever you were. He theorizes that the higher-ups promoted you to spite him, to have you travel even more often than he was and visit more places across the globe than any seasoned sorcerer would be comfortable with. Phone calls weren’t enough to verify that you were safe; he had to see you, feel you, know you were alive. “This is, what, the second time this month? The first time was when I came back from Paris, right?”

“I don’t think that was this month. It might’ve been the last week of the month prior. Monaco, maybe?”

“Eh, same thing. They always come after me when I get back from Europe. You think they’re trying to catch me off guard or something?”

“I don’t know if we can predict a schedule with these guys, babe,” he grimaces. As much as he liked that you were making light of the situation, the churning in his gut about what could have happened if he didn’t come was too painful to ignore. “Your dad would kill me if he saw how much danger I put you in.” 

“It’s a step up than sneaking me out of the third story of the house, I’ll admit,” you tease. How you could still find humor in times like these, he could never fathom. It’d taken months to convince your father to let Satoru court you, let alone marry you. To your family, he was an impediment, an obstacle, and, unfortunately, the love of your life. “Maybe even as bad as the food poisoning you got from that one place in Sendai.”

“I don’t think ‘in sickness and in health’ is supposed to apply to attempted assassinations. Food poisoning and sprained ankles, sure, but that other one toes the line a little too much.” The frequency of your life in danger was why he wanted you to live full-time on one of the Jujutsu Tech campuses and become a teacher, like him. Sure, a selfish part of him wanted you closer all the time, but he’d pick your safety over your proximity any day. 

“How far are the cleaners?” You yawn, washing your hands at the sink and scanning for everything in your home that needs to be wiped or scrubbed. 

“Ten minutes, tops. I can wait for them if you wanna go back to bed.” He knew you weren’t going to take him up on his offer. You were never able to sleep properly after attempts like this unless he was in the same room. “Though I know you won’t.”

“Isn’t it a little fucked up that we know how the rest of these nights usually go?” You chuckle, a soft, airy sound that takes some of the weight off of Satoru’s chest. You were truly sunlight incarnate and he was the darkest, unseen side of the moon. 

“I’d say this is all my fault, honestly.” You look at him curiously and he shrugs. “I’m the one who made you fall in love with me, after all.” 

“By that logic, I’m also partially to blame,” you point out, flashing him the ring on your left hand. The glow of cursed energy Satoru had embedded into the gemstones glows like Christmas lights in the darkness. The energy was more concentrated than your own body’s natural reserves, allowing him to pinpoint you immediately as long as you were wearing it. Danger and plans A through Z, and everything in between that came with marrying the strongest sorcerer in existence. “I can’t count the number of people who warned me about you.”  

“Why didn’t you listen to them?” 

“Because they’re not you,” you smile. “If you say that you’ll keep me safe, then I trust you to keep your word.” Sunlight incarnate, he thinks again, and God help anyone who tries to block you from him.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[satoruhour]

HE PLAYS BASS !

a/n: modern au bc i cant handle any angst rn. i ramble a lot in this to set the scene teehee. not beta read, gn btw / tagging @crysugu @slttygeto @getousex :3

wc: 3k ish

warnings: bass guitarist!geto, soft dom!geto, he is respectful of your boundaries, both geto and reader smoke weed, shotgun kiss, sexual acts under the influence, fingering, clit stimulation, implied second round, implied cunnilingus, dry humping, praise, n*sfw under the cut

bass guitarist!geto who has had an interest in music and its instruments since being a little boy, practically begging his parents to enrol him in some guitar classes. with fingers strumming the nylon strings alongside complicated chords on the frets felt so right that since then he and his guitar have been inseparable since.

bass guitarist!geto who gets to know the guitar so well that he masters guitar solo after guitar solo, playing songs by ear in his free time and thought lead guitar was all there was to music until the age of fifteen where he stumbles across a song with a bass line that sounded absolutely heavenly — through the 240p quality of the youtube video, he watched the bassist dish out the heavy beats, always in the background yet detrimental to making the band sound complete.

bass guitarist!geto who leaped at the opportunity to buy a bass guitar with whatever money he had to purchase a Squier bass — it was a little shitty in sound but it was cheap, something affordable for a middle schooler. suguru didn’t care. he perfected the use of his bass guitar, already having the basics down from playing guitar; his room is filled with posters, picks, pieces of displaced lyrics.

bass guitarist!geto only has the chance two years later to ask his new friends if they wanted to jam out together and down the line, if they wanted to form a band. it was a clueless band of boys (with shoko of course) in some room of gojo satoru’s luxury house where his parents don’t care to ask him to keep the noise down like suguru’s parents do.

bass guitarist!geto fights to get a spot to audition for one of tokyo’s biggest music festivals a few months later. if they won they would get more recognition, more support, even if they haven’t figured out the specifics of how to operate a band. with gojo as the singer, shoko on the lead and nanami on drums, they would find out what they had.

bass guitarist!geto who breaks that stereotype of the bassist being ignored throughout a performance. he thinks it could be because of his longer hair and his newly bought gauges, and he thought he didn’t look too shabby himself — although he isn’t surprised to see most of the girls fawn over gojo as he sang lyrics of an original song, courtesy of the joint effort between geto and shoko.

bass guitarist!geto who gives judges the finger after they said they couldn’t perform originals at an audition, blacklisting them for future performances — but gojo sees it as a win when he has a hoard of new fans waiting outside to get a photo with him with autographs that differed from each paper his pen made contact with. later, he bursts out laughing when gojo says he hadn’t even thought of a proper signature yet and just ‘did whatever on their paper’.

bass guitarist!geto whose band gained popularity fast because of everyone’s good looks, singing at that same place they auditioned at, but now with repertoire under their belt. it’s then that they’re already all in university, and yet everyone’s still incredibly passionate.

bass guitarist!geto who spots you in the crowd together with your friends, jamming out to their set, but while your friends’ eyes are locked on gojo who’s loving the attention, nanami who can’t give a shit and shoko who’s too focused on her solo, you manage to draw geto’s eyes to you. he spends the rest of the set locking eyes with you, amidst other things like sending you winks and licking his lips until you’re under his spell. all throughout he doesn’t lose the rhythm, but he does slip-up from time to time and there’s a panicked look that nanami sends to geto for messing up his rhythm.

bass guitarist!geto who sees you at his next show alone, smiling up at him right at the front row while he’s trying not to mess up after the last time. this time he has a chance to show you what he’s got in a bass solo, losing himself in the music until even you fades off and you’re truly seeing the bassist for who he is. he’s easing back into the main melody of the song but not before leaning over the speakers with a knee on the floor, hovering right over you before shoko takes over and he’s back to his heavy beats.

bass guitarist!geto who brushes off the teasing after the set ends, only to be bombarded with more of it when he sees you on campus — no way you’re in the same school as him, walking around with your cute outfits and laughing along to your friend’s joke with no care in the world.

bass guitarist!geto who doesn’t have much trouble charming you into hanging out with him, already recognising him from far away when he’s got his long flowy hair and gauges and tight black shirt and tall stature — you aren’t realising he’s asking you if it’ll be okay for you to head over to his dorm room. you’re getting pushed by your friends behind you to say yes with giggles and gossip, and of course you weren’t going to reject the hot guy you missed class and ditched friends for.

bass guitarist!geto who shows you his room and tells you to let him know if he’s made you uncomfortable in any way. in the background, there’s a faded, soft song that continues to play that really completes the dorm, immediately hitting it off until he starts to roll a joint a while later, offering it to you with a raise of his eyebrow.

“oh— n-no it’s fine, geto-san, i don’t really smoke…” you sheepishly turn down the weed, settling instead to watch him and his beautiful side profile, letting him explain to you about bands and guitar and chords.

“thank you for having me, geto-san,” bowing, you’re nothing like the person in the bar that day, geto thinks it’s the lack of alcohol but he doesn’t mind, simply leaning on the doorframe as he nods down at you. his smile is intoxicating and so goddamn attractive you would’ve buckled to your knees if not for the deep breaths you were taking.

“next time, pretty?” geto smiles, a little high from smoking. his eyes are lidded (they usually are anyway) and smile lopsided. his hair’s almost out of the bun.

“yeah, next time,” it sounded so breathy, you bit your lip. “i guess you’d have to find me on campus, though.”

bass guitarist!geto who mutters how you’re a little tease to himself later when he closes the door. he swears to himself he’d get your number next time, but it’s not difficult to find you the next time, hanging around the same place at the same time. it’s like you wanted him to find you — he’s not opposed to it. it’s a few weeks down the road now, and the second time is watching him curiously as he smokes, too. you take a hit and embarrass yourself completely in front of him though, and while you’re fighting for your life, you’re not opposed to the buzz it gives you.

bass guitarist!geto who’s opening the door to you the next time, surprised to see your dishevelled state and a pillow between your arms, walking almost a block like this to the next building where his dorm was. he offers to make you some tea and you shake your head, feeling a pounding headache already coming on just from explaining that your roommate was an asshole.

“you can sleep here if you want to, okay?” you sigh, thanking him immensely because even after knowing him for such a short period of time, you’re comforted by his presence.

“at least satoru’s not here,” you laugh at that, nodding tiredly before you’re settling on gojo’s bed after insistence from the other. he wouldn’t care, he’s always going back home anyway, don’t know why he wanted to share a room with me. but before you can get settled in, you hear the familiar crinkling of the paper and the click of the lighter and the smell of weed fills the room again.

again, his hand is outstretched, holding an ashtray below him as the tip of joint glows a red, calling out to you yet reminding you of the way you coughed the other night.

you crawl off his roommate’s bed, snatching the cig out of his hand in a way to prove something to yourself before taking a big puff. this time you’re better, letting the drug flow through your system, but tolerance is another thing, because it only takes another hit for you to be smiling drowsily at the other while geto is a little high, too, eyes rolling to the back of his head when your hand traces over his arms and you giggle.

“you w’nna kiss?” geto asks quietly, a little soberly, having talked late into the night while you hang off his arm and slur your words. but now you know you’re feeling a little more sensible when you can feel your heart pound and your eyes widen despite their need to close.

“i meant it, doll. you’re fuckin’ stunning,” suguru mumbles, the coldness of his rings sending a chill down your body, but also a spark to your core, “you look exactly like the day i discovered bass.” and it’s like cupid fully shoots his arrow through your heart — because have you heard the man play? you’re speechless at his point, only mustering a nod before you’re leaning in.

he hums drunkenly as a way to ask you to wait a min, manoeuvring you onto his lap before he’s taking the almost vanishing joint into his hands. two more puffs are perfect for the cigarette to be discarded and so with a gentle hand, he holds onto your nape while he tries not to get hard from having you on his lap. slowly, your lips wrap around the other end of the joint, taking in another influx of the drug before he does too.

bass guitarist!geto who pulls you towards his lips a little roughly but he doesn’t give you what you want (what he has in mind is much, much better), rather leaving his lips ajar as he exhales the smoke from his mouth into yours, your own smoke already dissipating. weirdly, this burn is more prominent, probably because all you can focus on are suguru’s dazed eyes and the way they burn through your skull. you inhale the smoke before you feel his soft lips on yours.

geto hums into your lips, coming off of them periodically to allow the smoke to disperse, but the moment is so intimate and hot that you blow away the smoke and lunge forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

“no more pullin’ away, geto-san…” you’re trailing off, words messily whispered against his lips and you burn at the chuckle he sounds out, muttering back a question of consent. you’re nodding, reeling at the speed at which he places his hands on your thighs, dragging you further up his front until you rested on his pelvis.

“kissing me like you can’t breathe and you’re still calling me by my last name? i’m wounded.” geto pulls away and defies your rule — you think he’s the only one who can do that. pouting, suguru pushes away the hair enclosing your face. “c’mon, drink, sober up a little.”

“...i like it like this,” you murmur, ashamed as to how readily you leaned into his touch. his stare is piercing though, not budging until you’re gulping down half the cup.

“throats turn dry when we smoke, princess. we can do it more when you’re more used to it, alright?” geto explains, patting your thigh and ignoring the tensing of them around his own. he’s trying so hard to act nonchalant, but he can’t get the image of you parting your lips for the smoke out of his head. the way your eyes flutter close, how you wanted more of him.

“alright… suguru,” you sigh out the name and geto wishes he could hear it somewhere else, “but can we—” the high is getting to you, making your hormones go into a frenzy and you’re grinding on his lap. geto hisses at the feeling, of your cunt brushing against his bulge. your hips are inexperienced, but you’re going by feel, drawing little circles and moving back and forth; whatever that brings you pleasure.

“baby— f-fuck…” geto swears when you pair it with the lips tha kiss down his cheek and jaw and neck, hands on your hips guiding you as you try to chase your high. but a whine from you draws geto out of his daze and he almost cums hearing your needy voice, begging him for something, anything.

“’m tired, suguru,”

he knows, grinding is a tiring thing, so rather he opts for you to lie on him with your back to his chest. by now, the room’s filled with the smell of weed and arousal, asking once again if he could take off your pyjama shorts. geto smiles at the lack of underwear but he says nothing, eyes latched onto the strings of juices that connect your pussy to the shorts.

“my baby ready to be touched?” he feels you nod, loving the way your stomach contracts and expands at the hand that travels over your clothed tits. there, he squeezes them, rubbing fingers over the hardened nub but soon creeps towards your centre. his hand and fingers are so much larger than yours, covering your whole core easily when he cups it and the contact is enough to make you mewl.

“hurry,” your hips hump the air.

“patience, darling,” geto’s gravelly voice cuts through to your ear before he finally draws languid circles upon your clit, rubbing and pressing on your bundle of nerves. his whole body burns from seeing you react so cutely, all cause your eyes couldn’t leave his on that stage. now your eyes were rolling up and over, little moans leaving your lips just from his hands.

bass guitarist!geto who seems to know all your pleasure points in one night, kissing the spot under your ear, to talking you through your orgasm. you were enamoured by the guitarist that you’d let him do anything to you, obsessed with the way he never missed questions of “is this okay?” and “tell me to stop”. geto is just as besotted by you, the arch of your back, the call of his name. god, he was going to write so many songs about you.

“think you can handle a finger, baby?” suguru whispers, caressing your twitching thighs from your first orgasm. with a shaky “yes”, geto plays with your hole, smearing your juices around your sex and getting it all on your thighs. the bashful suguruuu! has him laughing, taking your lips into another kiss as an apology.

“sorry, sweetheart. love teasin’ ya,” muffled words are said, “goin’ in.”

your jaw drops even more when geto first inserts a finger, so much wider and longer that a long moan escapes you. the stretch is so good, everything you’ve ever imagined after watching his fingers travel over the bass strings, and you’re already asking for a second finger. when he does oblige, your hands fly to grab at his wrist.

“feel good?” he chuckles at your lack of an answer, rather responding by clenching around his fingers and leaning back more into his hold. geto sets a pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. he thinks it’s enough of staring at you and almost gets whiplash when his head turns to his hand — from the way he disappears into your dripping cunt, he thinks he’ll cum untouched, although your desperate hips also would play a part.

“feel s’good, suguru— shit…” geto groans lowly into your ear when he feels your hand replicating the circles he’s made on your clit, juices starting to collect in his palm from how wet you were.

“you keep clenchin’ around me, baby, you w’nna cum?”

your body is more vocal than your voice, twisting and thrashing from how his fingers already feel so good. the haze and the smell of geto suguru and the weed in your system is all overloading on you at the moment, but in between you’re able to nod, fingers rubbing at your clit while geto’s speed picks up a little.

your legs naturally spread, each slap of his palm against your pussy paired with the lewd noises only making the whole thing better. it’s not long before you feel that familiar feeling, using your right hand to direct him to you once more and it’s here you see the man you saw on stage before: focused, flushed, small smirk on his face. “gonna cum.”

“yeah? are you?” geto asks against your lips, still tasting the faint aroma of the joint. your eyes are so heavy and your limbs feel like lead; it’s a wonder how both your hands are moving on your soaking wet pussy.

“yeah, sugu, s’sensitive—!” geto coos softly at your whimpers before capturing your lips, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and your orgasm comes crashing down on you. suguru effectively swallows your moans, groaning on his own end when he can feel your cum running down his hand. slowly, he lets you ride through your orgasm, pressing pecks on your skin and shoulders.

“attagirl. so much cum, hm?” your chest is heaving, whining when he removes his fingers and there’s a cute little squelch from the juices, gasping softly as geto separates his fingers and there’s strings connecting his middle to ring finger. “dirty girl.”

you scoff softly with a smile, eyes following how his fingers make his way into his mouth. the other only hums before carrying you bridal style to the shower with a sweet smile on his face. geto suguru was certain he’d worship you.

“gotta taste that cute little pussy next time.”

[waxingrunes]

Ghostface Thriller

This was supposed to be my original fully fleshed out Halloween gig but I changed my mind at the eleventh hour to something else. I only have these very rough shallow sketches to offer that started the whole thing. Read on for a little texting excerpt of their conversation from this moment.

And for one single (quite tame?) Ao3 continuation.

Sirius: you know, this whole conversation is just proving more and more disappointing ghostie

Ghost: Why’s that.

Sirius: well

Sirius: the more you talk the more you

Sirius: this is gonna sound weird but you know when you can grow attracted to the way someone sounds without ever seeing their face? the way they hold themselves like through the screen, the way they talj

Sirius: talk*

Ghost: Are you about to tell me you’re crushing on me, pretty?

Sirius: i mean

Sirius: im telling you i think the way you talk is attractive and despite the damning circumstances you’re actually kinda smart

Sirius: you have to be to get away with the sick shit you do :)

Ghost: Mm, nobody’s made me blush before.

Sirius: me calling you a sick shit made you blush?

Ghost: And sent a jolt straight to my c*** little pretty.

Sirius: romantic

Ghost: Struggling to understand what’s disappointing about any of this.

Sirius: oh right

Sirius: well it’s just you sound hot but obviously you’re not actually you know

Sirius: hot

A moment passes where Sirius swaps the phone between one clammy palm to the other, doubting his turn of phrase with the radio silence that’d been dealt.

Staring at the bottom of the screen he waited another whole minute for the three dots to appear, which was excellent restraint in his books, before huffing out a breath through his nose and yielding.

Sirius: no ten wears a mask

Sirius: if you were as attractive as your fancy words make you sound you’d make it known

Ghost: You’re trying to unmask me through the phone and here I was thinking I was the pervert.

Sirius: doesn’t pretty get at least one photo

Sirius: of something? anything? to aid my crush :(

Ghost: Ask nicely.

Sirius readjusted, looking up to the ceiling as if he was going to find some sort of resolve there. What wasn’t yet clear, was whether it was the weight of the situation that was getting to his head and making his tummy swoop with this roleplay he’d voluntarily landed himself in, or, he really had a fucking crush.

Wetting his lips, he swallowed and was already blindly tapping out his response before his eyes fell to it again.

Sirius: please ghostie

Moments passed. Deadweight moments where Sirius convinced himself his shadow was moving on its own accord. In reality it was a handful of seconds but it felt like minutes, ticking by with the faint feeling of something hot dripping down the back of his throat.

Ghost: I don’t make a habit of sending selfies to my toys.

Sirius stared at the photo. It was his time to go quiet now, for reasons he planned to take to the grave; an event which may end up closing in sooner than anticipated if he plays his cards wrong.

Ghost: Tick-Tock, pretty. What you looking at?

The bastard.

Sirius: not much apparently

Sirius: i mean nothing i haven’t seen before apart from your legs

Sirius: never seen those out before

Ghost: You a leg man?

Against his will, Sirius giggled. Flushed in an instance from shame and shock and the feeling of very sudden self-awareness, but still had to swallow the tail end of it.

Sirius: am i going to get anything else more

Sirius: motivating

Sirius: i’ve been good all week and followed your orders

Sirius: i haven’t argued

Ghost: Oh, pretty. Come on now.

Sirius: okay but

Sirius: wouldn’t you get bored if i made it easy

Ghost: Clever boy.

Sirius squeezed his legs together, sinking further into the cushions.

Sirius: then reward me

Sirius: please

Sirius: please please please

Ghost: You’ll get what you want soon, but for now…

Another picture came through and for a sharp second, Sirius hesitated. It wouldn’t be his face, surely. He knew that and yet the moment felt pivotal either way as he hovered his thumb over the attachment and tried levelling his rattling heart.

He opened it, simultaneously losing feeling in his fingers and gaining it elsewhere.

Ghost: I wasn’t kidding about that jolt, not that hard yet but you’re doing a good job pretty.

Picture no.2

[johannestevans]

Where do I find the queer people?

Making friends and finding social & community spaces as an LGBTQ+ adult.

Originally published with Prism & Pen. Also on my Patreon.

Photo by Brett Sayles via Pexels.

A friend and I recently went to a Queer Open Mic night after I saw it advertised on the same afternoon. While we were on the way back, she asked about how I’d found it.

“I just feel like you always know loads of queer events that are on,” she said, “and I don’t know how to begin to find them.”

I sat down with her a few weeks later and showed her some of the ways I find events, regular or otherwise, and where I look for others — especially given that on social media in the past few days I’ve seen a few people talking about the difficulty of finding and meeting with new queer people when not online.

I thought it might be useful to put it together here.

It’s quite hard with the pressure on and elimination of many third spaces to go out and easily meet people, and given that most of us use a lot of online socials and dating apps, it can feel difficult to seek out and engage with in-person spaces without knowing exactly what the protocol or format of the event is going to be.

Especially given that many people are still more isolated than they were before the start of the Covid pandemic, and/or struggle with seeking out events for themselves having finished school or university or other more structured environments, there can be a lot of anxiety about attending events or meeting new people. But it’s worth it to remember that pretty much everyone else is in a similar spot, and there’s nothing weird or unusual about wanting to make friends or have social time with others.

I am based in the North of England and generally go between the UK and Ireland. So this guide might be less useful depending on where you are. Obviously, in countries with more repressive legislation on queer identity, community groups will by definition be far more underground. Even in areas where this isn’t the case, some of these suggestions might be more viable than others depending on how densely populated your area is, how accessible different venues and events are, and how active your local queer communities are. So, just take what’s good for you and leave the rest.

Finding Local Queer Community Groups

In your search engine, put in simple search terms — [queer] [group] in [my area].

If you can, narrow your search to websites updated in the last 6 months to 2 or 3 years — you’ll sometimes find a website from six or seven years ago where the events haven’t been running for half that when you were already excited about it.

Search your town, city, or county first, and then widen your search — I normally initially look for Bradford and Leeds respectively, but then might broaden my search to West Yorkshire or even North England depending on the time of year and if I’m more willing to travel for certain events, e.g. looking up summer events around Pride, or specific holiday events if you’re looking at Halloween, Christmas, New Year’s, etc.

Combine:

“Queer”, “LGBT” or “LGBTQ”, “Trans”, “Gay Men’s”, “Lesbian”, “Transgender”, “Transsexual”, “Gay Rights” or similar terms

With:

“Charity”, “Support Group”, “Social Space”, “Community Space”, “Meetup”, “Society”, and similar terms

Swap around the terms and find what language seems to be used in your area — remember that depending on the age group and demographic you’re looking at or for, there might be terms you prefer.

I personally search for a lot of gay men’s groups because the average age tends to be a lot older and focused more on the experiences and social spaces of men who love men rather than general queer spaces, which I find can be a bit too young and fast-paced for my speed.

In general, I find that there’s a loose separation between younger trans and queer social groups, which tend to be a mix of differing identities and ages but with a big emphasis on young adults in the 18–25 area, and then specific gay men’s or lesbians’ groups, which will have a wider swathe of ages and might be a little bit less online.

I understand the fear some people have of these spaces being more transphobic than younger spaces — that’s not personally been my experience, as transphobia and lateral bigotry might happen in any social space, but unfortunately, you just don’t know the specifics of an event or a group until you get there and actually meet and talk to the people.

Some charities or community groups that run a variety of spaces might have specific age or identity guidance on group titles — some might be particularly for younger or older people, be for trans people more than cis people, and some might focus on particular sub-communities, such as BIPOC queer groups or specific religious or ethnic meetups, disabled queer groups, etc.

You also might find meetups that are centred around certain hobbies, professions, or interests — boardgames or Magic the Gathering, Doctor Who or fantasy novels, medical professionals or blacksmiths, etc, depending on how big the area you’re in is and how populous it is.

If you are already a member of an institution or society, whether that’s your school or university, your union, some workplaces, your temple or other religious institution, etc, you might find that there are already events running for you!

Finding Queer Events Online

There are almost certainly queer events on, and they’re probably advertised, but where do you find them?

What’s annoying about the Internet as it exists, corporate online spaces and otherwise, is that most events will be posted in one or two spaces out of hundreds. The good ones will sometimes be hard to find because there’s a bunch of shitty advertising in the way, and because individuals and small charity or community advertisers don’t necessarily know about things like search engine optimisation or how to make a good, searchable post. There will be really cool events that are advertised online, but just aren’t tagged or easy to find.

This means that it’s worth looking often but keeping it casual — glancing through the top page for events that might be coming up or meet some keywords, but if most of what you see is ads, just leave it and move on. Digging through for the good events in busy areas that are also ad-heavy can take ages and might not even turn up much.

If you find socials for local community groups or charities, even if they don’t run events themselves, they might regularly share other local events or cool ones, so it can be worth following them!

Ditto for other queer people in your community — follow local artists, performers, academics, creators, public speakers, craftspeople, or any local community leaders or public figures, and see if they share and boost local events.

They might boost special interest events that are of interest to you if you follow people who share certain communities or interests. If, for example, you have an interest in lolita fashion and follow queer lolita dressers in your area or in areas you can travel to, they might post events that are of interest to them and maybe to you — whether that means specific lolita events, other clothing and fashion events like gothic or steampunk markets and shows, or even anime cons or renaissance faires or whatever.

Obviously searching on social media can help — looking for keywords like “queer event” or “LGBT social” on one site or other can be especially good if it’s a site where you can localise your search results, such as Facebook or Instagram.

With that said, Facebook and Instagram are increasingly difficult sites to use given how much they’re overwhelmed by sponsored and corporate posts as well as spam and bot posts. So, it’s generally worth it more when you focus on either events in smaller and limited areas, such as small towns, or when you’re looking for crossing over of different areas of interest, such as particular queer hobbyist or interest groups. When you start looking for broader spectrum events in a busier or more populous area, you can get inundated by spam and copy-and-paste duplicate ads that have all been promoted. But it’s still worth it to have a glance and see if anything is up at the top!

Sites and apps like Eventbrite or TicketSource, or equivalents in your area, will often let you search for specific events . As with social media, these sites can have the same problem of sponsored events coming up first, and annoyingly you can’t block particular event providers or organisers to make sure they don’t show in your search results if they’re not your thing.

Use every option that comes up and see if you can cross search where you can — pick a particular location or area, click on free or paid events, pick events at certain times, pick a certain kind of event, add in tags like LGBTQ or similar if it’s a site that allows it, etc.

If an event comes up that you like the idea of, note it down, then look the organizer up on social media and see if they run or share other events.

Looking for local tourism sites will let you search for other local events as well — especially if you live in a city or regularly visit one, they’ll often have a What’s On page or a Visit [Blank] website or equivalent, and you can search through that — most of them will have cultural events or a specific LGBTQ section you can glance through.

Here’s the Visit Bristol site, for example:

What’s On in Bristol — VisitBristol.co.uk Click here to find out What’s On in Bristol!…Get the latest information on the latest Events, Festivals, Carnivals…visitbristol.co.uk

For obvious reasons, sites like most of the above will focus on paid events, especially evening and party events. Pub quizzes, drag events, bingo nights, balls, drinks offers, parties, etc.

These events aren’t for everybody — and if they’re not for you, focus on events that take place, if not in cafés and restaurants, then in libraries, universities, museums, and other public buildings.

Queer Events Locally Advertised In-Person

Wait, do people still do that?

Look for poster and notice boards in:

Libraries, museums, community centres, university lobbies

Vintage and alternative clothes stores, music venues, etc

Your temple, church, or other religious institutions

Gay bars, queer cafés, LGBTQ centres, queer bookshops

Doctor’s offices, GUM clinics, and sexual health clinics

Anywhere else you see a noticeboard with events showing!

Also look on flag poles or in windows around your local gay bars or businesses if you have any, generally around the gay village if there’s one to go through.

How do you know the events are good? How do you know they’re legit?

How old does the poster look? Do you see many copies of it around?

Look for dates for the event(s) they’re advertising on the poster, and then look up the venue the events are meant to happen at. Do the dates match? Is it a regular event? Is the event showing on the venue’s website or social media?

Is the event run by a local group, collective, or charity? When you search them, do they have socials or a site of their own? Do they seem active?

If a local queer poster gives you socials, check those socials out — do they have any followers you’re familiar with? Do they post their venues publicly and have defined and public meeting times? Do they seem to have active and engaged commenters? Is there a face or faces behind the social media, or are they anonymous?

If an event is run by anonymous people, or if it seems like they don’t have many followers on social media or very active ones, that might be a bit more suspicious — ditto if an event just gives you a phone number but not any further identifying info.

It’s not inherently suspicious for a queer event to be at an undisclosed location, because of course people do want to ensure some safeguarding and vet people before they come, but if it’s an undisclosed location in combination with anonymous organising, that might be a bit suspicious, and should probably be avoided.

Finding Queer People in Specific Hobby or Other Community Spaces

You don’t have to go to queer-specific events to meet other queer people — any hobby or community you can think of, there’s probably queer people in attendance.

If you’re in a busier or more populous area, say there are 5 events that centre around the same hobby — of those 5, some of them will have more queer people than others, and it might be worth checking them out just to see if you click with anyone there.

My partner and I attend queer-specific board-game evenings that are run out of gay bars or by queer clubs, but pretty much any board-game night is likely to have one or two queer people knocking about, whether they know or would identify themselves as LGBTQ+ off the bat or not.

While there are obviously more open queer people at the queer events, I would say that when we went to a local board-game night run by older straight guys, about a quarter of the attendees were older queer people.

Of my queer friends, pretty much all of them have varied interests and attend different groups or clubs with a lot of other queers knocking about without them being labelled or explicitly queer events — knitting and crocheting, computer coding, electronic music and DJing, fandom, blacksmithing, glassblowing, stand-up comedy, improv, cooking, gardening, board games, cosplay and historical costuming, LEGO, live-action roleplay, tabletop roleplaying games, Magic the Gathering, Yu-Gi-Oh, and other trading card games, poker, burlesque, sports games and clubs, swimming, cycling, fishing, photography, book clubs, bug collecting, birdwatching, weaving, painting, sculpture, pottery, video games, singing, songwriting, poetry…

The list goes on.

Hell, half the people I know seem to go and meet new dates at the local climbing wall, where it seems like all the lesbians and gay guys are crawling all over one another. Another friend of mine attends their local WI, and have met other queer people there.

Other Tips

Remember you can meet people on dating and hook-up apps and that doesn’t necessarily have to be for sex and relationships, whether that’s Grindr, Her, Lex, etc — or you can ask hook-ups and casual dates where they go or if there are local events they think are good or fun. Poly people are particularly useful for this, because they’ll often have a whole network of regular events crossing over and diverging.

If you’re nervous about going to an event alone and you don’t have anybody to go with you, it can be worth checking it out on socials first and see if you have any mutual friends with people that are going — if not, it’s worth heading along anyway, because people might well speak to you before you have to open the conversation with them.

Community groups will often have icebreakers or sessions where people swap names, pronouns, and basic introductions, and that can ease the way into getting used to the space.

If you see somebody else on their own who seems nervous to talk to people, they can be good to approach and say, hey, I also don’t know anyone here, what brings you here? And so on. Remember, other people are pretty much always in the same boat as you.

For me, one of the biggest anxieties about going to new events alone is the fact that I’m disabled and dependent on public transport, and that combo can make it tough on me if I get to a place and it’s inaccessible or just not my speed, and then I have to sort of immediately turn heel and leave, but wait ages for a bus in the meantime. I’ve missed more than one event I was really excited about just because transport didn’t line up for me.

Some considerations to keep in mind when you look for events:

Is the event free or paid? Is this clearly marked? Do you need to buy tickets in advance?

How recent is the posting about the event? Is it posted on a web page or a social media page? Are there recent comments or engagement on the entry? If there is a contact for the event, is it active and responsive?

Is this event regular or recurrent? Is it for a special occasion, and does it have sister events or concurrent events?

Is the event exclusively online, exclusively in-person, or do they change between the two formats? Would you prefer to attend online before you attend in-person?

Do you want to go to a closed and more private group — for example, one that has you message them for the time and location, seems to have capped attendee limits, seems to have a regular community. Or do you want to attend a more casual event in a larger, open space where people might not notice as much as you come and go? Is it going to be very crowded or more spaced out?

Where is the event located, and will you be comfortable in that venue? Is it in a community building such as a charity space, community group, religious institute, school, or university? Is it in a café, restaurant, pub, bar, club, or late-night venue? Is it an explicitly or dedicated queer space? If you are not out to other members of your community, will going into this space reveal that you might be a member of a queer group?

Is the venue age-restricted, and will it require ID? If you must provide ID, will providing your ID in a dead name or in a different gender presentation to your current one be anxiety-inducing or a potential problem for you?

How accessible is the venue to you? Is it walkable, on a regular bus route, or does it have appropriate parking for you? Does it have ramps or elevators? Is it well-ventilated, and does it have a HVAC or other air filtration and purification protocol? Is masking enforced, and/or are masks provided? If you might be watching something together, is there a hearing loop, will there be subtitles on a screening? Is there a first aider at the event? Does the venue serve food or drink, or provide refreshments?

If you are attending alone and have specific needs or requirements, or might need to leave abruptly, is there someone you can let know at the event, such as a first aider or community leader? Are there regular buses, a taxi rank, or online taxi access if you need to quickly head home? Have you let someone else know where you are going, just as a safety concern?

Is the event activity-based, or is it a space where people just sit and talk? Would one or the other of these feel more natural or comfortable to you? Do you have to bring your own activity, such as with a craft or knitting circle, or are supplies provided, such as boardgames or a screening?

Does the group or host for the event(s) have social media? Do they advertise the regular events on socials, or have a newsletter, or some other helpful reminder system?

Most community events will be free, but if it’s an activity group or society, or if it’s a private event, especially one where they buy equipment or supplies, there might be an up-front ticket or access fee, a membership fee or a collection jar or similar — most events will tell you in advance if there is a fee or if they might request a donation.

Most importantly, like… Have fun.

If it sucks, hit the bricks — there’s no obligation to stay anywhere if it’s not fun or doesn’t satisfy you in the way you were hoping.

There’s always other events out there, and you’re very unlikely to truly be the only gay in the village, even if it sometimes feels that way. Good luck!

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

*original Image from a CW still photo

Summary: Dean shows you what it means to be in a relationship with a self-proclaimed Red-winged Bloodhound, and to be loved.

Characters: Dean Winchester x You

Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY, period sex, shower sex, brief oral, super horny bc hormones and Dean Winchester, ILY exchange, intimacy

Words: 2K

Author’s notes: Sanctioned will be a series of low-stakes explorations of sexual taboos and boundary nudging with one or both of the Winchester brothers and You. It will all be written in 2nd person, further fostering a sense of closeness and leaning into the level of intimacy achieved with each act. It will not necessarily be considered part of the same universe but can absolutely be read that way.

As always, all my love goes to my long-time beta and friend @brrose-apothecary and many thanks to @bigmouthlass for the read-through and green light.

Sanctioned: The Red-Wing Rodeo

Being on your period sucks.

You radiate heat, but you're freezing. You can’t even think about wearing anything other than sweatpants. Most days, you bleed through an ultra tampon and the thickest pads you can buy in less than an hour, and you’re hungry all the time.

For nasty, greasy junk food and for Dean.

Dean’s gorgeous and effortlessly sexy. Even when you aren’t on your period, all he has to do is say your name and you’re putty in his hands. When you are on your period, bloated as a bridge troll and craving melty cheese, the things your brain conjures up for him to do to you threaten to set feminism back faster and farther than an old, white conservative on the Supreme Court.

It’s all you can think about—Dean’s hands on your skin, his lips on your throat, and his cock hammering you senseless.

But you smell bad, right? Your eyes are puffy and your feet look like sausages. No one thinks that’s attractive.

He’s tried to tell you that he likes it. Loves it, is what he’s said. He’s the one who told you there’s a name for guys like him—Bloodhounds. He’s even gone down on women having their period.

You don’t consider yourself a prude, but he can’t be serious, can he?

Right now, you’re in the shower in an attempt to feel less ick and maybe work out some frustration where you can easily clean up afterward. You’ve washed and conditioned your hair, exfoliated, shaved everything, and now you’re standing under just-the-right-temperature water as it blessedly sluices your neck and shoulders to your toes. You’re starting to feel something approaching relaxed when you hear Dean’s voice.

“Care if I join ya?” he asks, peeking around the large shower stall with a grin that no one in their right mind could resist. He’s naked, his hair’s spiking in nine different directions, and his face is smudged with grease from the Impala.

You shake your head and shrug, afraid to firmly commit to any answer since every cell in your body is stretched tight between tenterhooks; you could snap at any second.

“You sure?” He arches a brow and dips his chin to his chest as he eases his way into the shower.

“M’sure,” you mutter, curling in on yourself.

He settles in behind you, tall and strong, skimming his big hands over your hips before gently palming your belly. You rest one hand on his forearm and reach up behind you with the other to slide your fingers through his dampening hair. Dean begins to hum and sway before moving to multitask—dragging one hand up to expertly cup and caress one hot, tender breast, and lazily drawing a random but intricate pattern around your navel and lower.

“I know it’s your time of the month or whatever you call it, and I know it’s gettin’ harder lately,” he murmurs, touching you with reverence and heat, kissing your temple, around the shell of your ear. “I wanna make it better.”

You sigh. “I know… I just-”

When his thumb brushes your nipple, you gasp and bite back a desperate moan.

“Just what, honey? Tell me.”

He shifts behind you and his thick, hard cock grazes the curve of your back. It’s too much. He’s told you so many times how good he could make it for you.

“Please?” He continues to kiss and suck the thin skin of your throat and thumb your nipple.

You bite your lip and twist his hair with your fingers. Maybe you can let go a little. The shower will help with the mess, right?

Dean sucks an earlobe between his lips and brings his other hand up to work your other breast, forcing a pitiful whimper from your chest. You grip his wrists, encouraging his touch and buck back against him.

“Fuck me,” you whisper.

Dean groans and you can practically feel him vibrate with excitement. “I promise I’m gonna make this so good for you,” he whispers back.

You sigh, brace your hands against the tile in front of you, and widen your stance before glancing over your shoulder. His eyes flick to yours as he lathers up his hands. When he takes a step closer to touch you again, you drop your head to hang between your arms and exhale. He works you up, kneading your breasts, pulling and teasing your taut, sensitive nipples.

“You look so beautiful when you trust me like this. I want you to know it and believe it.”

He nuzzles and nips under your jaw as he hooks one hand under your right knee and gathers both your wrists with the other. You gasp when he lifts and shifts you like you weigh nothing, spreading you up and open, pressing you up against the cool tile.

“Makes me crazy knowin’ how bad you want somethin’ but won’t ask for it.”

And then he slowly sinks inside you.

You sob his name and quake between his solid weight and the soothing ceramic. You feel so hot and light, spread wide and fucked tight.

“So good, Dean,” you whimper, and he kisses you everywhere he can, sucking small bruises into your skin.

“You too.” He pushes your knee up higher, opening you wider. “So hot and greedy. Fuck, your pussy’s squeezin’ me so tight.”

“Ung.”

His thrusts are slow, shallow, and precise. Each pass sends ripples of brilliant pleasure from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes—liquid, rolling, boiling.

“Wanted you like this for so long,” he huffs in your ear. “Give you what you need when you feel so empty.”

He’s repeatedly, steadily driving over your g-spot, slip-sliding along the path he’s traveled time and time again—but this time, every single nerve ending inside you is engorged and hypersensitive. You can feel every ridge of his cock, stroking your insides.

“Yes, Dean. I can- can feel you everywhere. Fuck.” You gasp for air and arch your neck as he plants his forehead against the shower wall.

“C’mon,” he whispers, quickening his grinding pace and eliciting a shout from you.

“Fuck… fuck… fuck…” you’re chanting, your skin is singing, and your vision blurs.

Time warps and whirls, Dean tells you you’re so perfect, so beautiful, and then- your body seizes rigid and shocking before blowing up into the most powerful, white-hot orgasm you’ve ever had.

•

•

•

Dean gently nudges you awake with soft, warm touches and the aroma of chicken soup. Your eyelids flutter open and he’s lying on his side above the covers facing you, lightly brushing the wide tips of his fingers across your forehead.

“How ya feelin’?”

“Mmmph.” You wriggle into him, clutching his soft t-shirt in your fists, and nuzzle his chest.

Dean chuckles. “That good, huh?”

You feel brand new, wrapped in crystal-spun gossamer—delicate and feral. Your consciousness scrambles to catch up to your body’s instinct to climb on top of Dean and never let him out of bed ever again.

He runs a hand down and up your back, soothing and warm, and kisses your temple. “Should eat somethin’, babe. Made ya some chicken soup and those cheese crisps you like so much.”

“You’re so good to me,” you mutter as you roll and squirm toward your nightstand. You push yourself to sit up, holding the sheet to your chest, and reach for the steaming mug.

Dean traces your spine, back and forth, up and down, sending chill bumps all over your body. You are pretty hungry, so you take a few healthy sips from the mug and pop a cheese crisp into your mouth before turning back to face Dean.

“Thank you. I do love those crisps. But I like you even better.” You scoot closer to him and slide your hands up under his t-shirt. “You should get naked and get under the covers with me.”

“I should?” He smirks in that way that makes your heart skip and your guts twirl. “One single period sex shower session and you’re hooked. I like it.”

He helps you get his shirt off before shimmying out of his pajama pants and sliding under the covers with you so you’re skin to skin.

“God, you’re already hard.” You immediately push a hand down and wrap your fingers around his thick length, kissing him hungrily. “So smooth, want you in my mouth.”

“Uh-uh,” Dean stops you from diving down, rolling you to your back and kneeing your legs open to slot his hips and grind his cock right there. “I want you in my mouth, smell so fucking good, so ripe and hot.”

You groan. Two hours ago, you’d have been horrified by the mere suggestion, but now you want, want, want.

“Dean, you can’t-”

He answers your groan, rolling his hips and nestling his face against your neck. “I won’t if you don’t want it, but,” he pauses, pushing up to look you in the eye. “You want it, don’t you?”

His eyes sparkle, and your pussy throbs. He’s right; you’re hooked and there’s no going back. You’re so turned on that he likes the way you smell—that he wants to devour you. Dean’s always eager to eat your pussy, but right now he looks ravenous.

Your heart rate kicks up a notch, and you nod.

Dean swears under his breath before kissing you, hot and firm. He kisses you so well, every day. He’s thorough with his kisses and touches. This is no exception.

When he finally, slowly begins his descent, you’re breathless, writhing in the twisted bedding and fisting your hair. He gives every square inch of your body the same treatment as your mouth, all the way to your ankles and the arches of your feet. Everywhere he touches, licks, and kisses is a hot zone. As he makes his way back upward, you think you might come before he even lays a finger on your clit.

“Dean, I’m-” You break into a sob and squeeze your eyes shut.

“No, no- don’t hold back, honey. Make some noise, make a mess, I gotchu. C’mon.”

You open your eyes and he’s watching you closely as he hunkers back down, nodding. You mirror his nod and take a deep breath, reaching for him to sink your fingers into his hair.

He smiles as he continues kissing his way from your knee up the inside of your thigh, then splays his fingers against the backs of your thighs. You watch him gently part your seam with his thumbs and dip in to press a kiss to your swollen clit.

“Fuck,” you breathe, dropping your head back to the mattress and twisting his hair in your fists.

He huffs a quiet laugh, blowing a stream of cool air over your slick, open pussy, and you lose it.

“Aaahhh!”

You’re higher than you’ve ever been on any substance, raw, and on fire. You feel like you might rocket through the roof of the bunker into the stratosphere; then Dean slides up over you and inside you, filling you up and anchoring you. He braces his forearms on either side of your head and you wrap your arms around his back.

“I love you so much,” you whisper, accepting his kiss and reveling in his long, steady strokes inside you.

He rests his forehead against yours and breathes, dragging out and pushing back in.

“Me too,” he whispers back, brushing noses with you. “So much, honey. Thank you for lettin’ me take care of you.”

You giggle and lift your legs to hug him tight. “Thank you.”

“Next time, I’m goin’ down on you ‘til you forget your own name, but,” he pauses to rotate his hips and kiss you again. “I just had to be inside you.”

“Not complaining.”

Dean keeps that connection, pulls the thread, loops it back again, and reminds you why you’re there. He reminds you of why you love him.

[myfictionaldreams]

Rule Number One. // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was Bucky's birthday but even a surprise party won't stop Steve and Bucky from punishing you for not looking after yourself.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, angst, threesome, dom/sub, bdsm, punishment, self-neglect/forgetting to eat, rough sex, overstimulation, discussion of safe words, oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing, multiple orgasms, spanking, daddy and sir kink, praise kink, size difference, begging, aftercare 

PLEASE BE WARNED: There is a lot of discussion about eating as the reader has skipped meals to party plan. If you find the topic of eating/skipping meals triggering, please proceed with caution.

ღ Be kind to yourselves please ღ

A/N: Also... the next Mafia!Stucky fic will be how reader & Steve met so keep a look out for that! Sorry my uploads have slowed down I’ve been busy with University but fingers crossed I’ll upload it soon.

Words: 7.2k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link 

As you began to complete one task, someone was at your side asking endless questions or you’d notice something was out of place and therefore would have to immediately fix it. It was ridiculously busy, more than you’d anticipated when you had the brilliant idea to host a surprise birthday party for Bucky.

Originally it was supposed to be a small get-together with a couple of friends, some nice food and drinks. However, as soon as you’d mentioned your idea to Steve, he insisted that the ‘sky was the limit’ for his best friend, no expenses spared. So now, at the local venuel, there were food vans hired, bars, a dance floor, plenty of waiters and servers and everyone on good terms with the Rogers mafia, was invited to celebrate your boyfriend and second-in-command to the gang. 

Steve, the boss, was currently distracting Bucky by taking him out for lunch and then a baseball game, keeping him thoroughly distracted so that you could organise the venue with a couple of other members of the gang.

“Where do you want the popcorn machine, Boss Lady?” Sam hollered from the other side of the dance floor.

“Over by the bar please, Sam!” you shouted back with just as much enthusiasm from where you were currently folding the napkins to place across the scattering of tables. A deafening cash then sounded from behind you as a waiter dropped a large case of glasses that were about to be placed behind the bar.

Trying to hold back your sigh of frustration, you were quick to try and help to clean up, mistakes happened but there was still so much to do. Being careful not to cut yourself on the glass, your phone began to vibrate in your back pocket, disposing of the glass in your hand into the bin and then stepping away to answer whoever was phoning.

A photo of you and Steve graced your phone screen, a smile finally springing to your face as you answered. “Hello, Handsome”.

“Hello beautiful, how’s it all going?” Steve’s deep voice always had your heart beating a little quicker, any worries and stresses you were experiencing disappearing from your thoughts.

“Is he with you?”, you asked quietly into the phone, knowing Bucky had amazing hearing.

“He’s gone to the toilet”, he informed, and you could tell that he was smiling as he spoke to you.

You couldn’t help but sigh into the phone, “It’s going peachy, having the best day ever and don’t regret planning this at all!” your voice was dripping with sarcasm as you began to pace up and down the random corridor you had found that was empty.

Steve chuckled at your response, “I’m sure he’ll appreciate all the effort you’re putting into this, baby”.

“I know he will, he was happy enough just to have a blowjob as he woke up this morning, let alone a full party in his honour”.

Steve hummed at the memory of waking up to see Bucky’s hands cupping the back of your head, guiding your movements as his cock pumped into your throat. “Such dirty words coming from such a pretty mouth”, Steve noted, his voice notably lower now as he teased.

Your cheeks warmed, your pacing stopped as arousal bloomed in your core, Steve was always so good at distracting you. Shaking your head you attempted to change the subject, “What time will you be arriving with him?”

Steve took a deep breath on the other end of the phone and you could hear shuffling as he attempted to readjust his pants that had tightened over his hardening cock, something that always happened easily when he was picturing your lips. “Um, probably half past five? Does this give you enough time to get everything ready?”

“Yes I think so, I mean, there’s still quite a lot to do but I can always get changed after he arrives, as long as I see his face when he sees the surprise that’s all I care about”, you grinned into the phone with anticipation for the upcoming event.

“You’re still looking after yourself right?” Steve asked curiously, “You aren’t pushing yourself too much to perfect this party”.

“Yeah of course I’m fine, it’s nothing I can’t handle”, you tried to blow off his worry but he didn’t seem convinced as he hummed again but it sounded more thoughtful than before.

“Have you eaten today?”

Your mind went momentarily blank of thoughts. Had you eaten today? You’d been drinking plenty of water as that was easy to have on the go but couldn’t remember having any food and with the way your stomach seemed to rumble at the thought of eating. 

“Does Bucky count as eating? I mean I technically did swallow…”, you smirked at the sound of Steve groaning at the other end of the phone, his cock pulsing at the thought.

“Now who is distracting”, he commented. “Bucky’s cum definitely isn’t enough food sweetheart”.

“I’m sorry, I will eat something, in fact, I’ll go and get something now before doing any more tasks, I’m sure there’s a vending machine hidden away somewhere”.

“Do you promise?” Steve asked, sounding more serious now.

“Yes of course”, you respond instantly.

“Good, you need to look after yourself and if I get there later and you haven’t, there will be repercussions. You don’t want to make me upset do you?” Steve asks, his tone completely changing from worried to gruff and steady.

“No sir”, you responded submissively, your chin tucking into your chest to hide your expression.

“Good girl, I know you’ll do me proud and eat but I need to make sure, I know that you want the best for this party but I won’t have you neglecting yourself just to make Bucky happy. Speaking of- he’s on his way back from the toilet, so I’ll see you later baby, I love you”.

“I love you too”, the phone cut off as you both simultaneously hung up. Great, you thought, not only were you hungry but aroused due to Steve’s subtle praises. Turning back towards the party room with the intention of finding a vending machine, all plans were quickly disrupted as one of the food vans arrived and parked in the wrong space and needed your attention immediately and once again, one thing led to another and a few more hours passed by.

It felt like in a blink of an eye, the afternoon had passed and guests were beginning to arrive, thankfully Sam was happy to welcome everyone as you dressed in record speed, just in time for Steve to arrive with Bucky.

Your cheeks were aching before long with how happy you were seeing Bucky’s reaction. He was beaming, his pearling white teeth grinning, the corner of his eyes creasing with pure joy, dimples forming in his cheeks, absolutely speechless as everyone wished him a happy birthday, Bucky couldn’t believe it, immediately his eyes locking in yours and quickly enveloping you in his muscular arms as he whispered his unwavering adoration for you.

The party was filled with joy, dancing, and plenty of food and drinks. You weren’t drinking though, not as the one being in charge of the party, someone had to stay level-headed, even though both Steve and Bucky had an extremely high tolerance to alcohol so weren’t really affected by it.

There were no fights either which was another positive for you and a rarity with such boisterous guests. Everyone seemed to be having a great time and as the night rolled on, you too were able to fully immerse yourself in the music, dancing between Steve and Bucky, smiling happily.

When the food vans began to serve, you were one of the first to stand in the queue and be served, stomach now painful with hunger, the inkling of guilt at the back of your mind as to not going to find any vending machines earlier but at least you had some food now! Settling your food on one of the tables near the back, and out of sight of Steve so that you could devour every single plate that you had managed to find, grabbing more plates than necessary but compensating for the lack of food throughout the day.

“This seems like an awful lot of food for someone who promised they would eat earlier”, Steve’s voice whispered into your ear. You screamed with a mouthful of food, having moved onto your third plate, your stomach beginning to feel full and happy. Your boyfriend took the seat next to you, placing his own food plates onto the table but he ignored them for now, leaning back in his chair to look over at you with a serious expression which told you he wasn’t in a joking mood and probably wouldn’t appreciate your sarcastic responses.

Swallowing the food sooner than you should have that it kinda hurt your throat, you sighed, shoulders dropping with defeat as you leaned heavily back into the chair. “I did try and find some food but then someone was asking for me and I was distracted and the next thing I knew, you and Bucky were arriving and it was too late”.

Steve seemed unconvinced by your excuse, “Did you try? If you did, you would have noticed the vending machine just outside of this room through that exit that would have taken you 30 seconds to get something to eat”, Steve pointed towards the closest exit, one that you had passed through at least 20 times that day.

“Shit”, you whispered under your breath, reaching for a couple of fries to shove into your mouth, unsure what to say but Steve was happy to continue talking for the both of you.

“You promised that you would eat something, you’ve been busy all day, you need to look after yourself”.

“It’s not like that, I didn’t do it on purpose, I just wasn’t thinking about myself today, I wanted Bucky to have the best party ever and I knew these food vans were going to be here anyway! I’m sorry I didn’t eat earlier Steve but everything is fine!”

Steve’s jaw clenched, “it’s not about being fine now, one of our rules, you, me and Bucky, is that we must look after ourselves and I need you to prioritise yourself over us, I’m sure they could have dealt with where to put the cake without you for a couple of minutes whilst you had something to eat. Not only that, you promised me that you’d eat something. I’m sure Bucky appreciates everything you’ve done for him but how do you think he’s going to feel when he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day just to make sure that his party looked good? He’s gonna be pissed”.

“Please don’t tell him, Steve, I don’t want him to have to worry about me today of all days, just let him enjoy his birthday and it’s not that big of a deal I promise, look- I’m happily eating now!”, you shoved a handful of fries into your mouth until your cheeks were bulging, in an attempt to make Steve laugh but it was unsuccessful as he still looked at you intently.

Steve leaned in close, his lips hovering over your ear as you began to chew the food in your mouth. “Do you remember me telling you what would happen if you didn’t look after yourself earlier?”

Your chews slowed, your heart, beginning to beat harder in your chest as you did remember, in fact, this was the reason you were trying to compensate now, hoping that Steve wouldn’t have brought it up. Nodding your head whilst looking down at your lap was your only response to the question.

“I want you to enjoy the rest of the party and I won’t tell Bucky - yet. In fact, I’m inclined to forget about punishing you for this because of how much fun Buck is having, but I need you to understand that you’ve broken a rule and a promise and I need to look after yourself first, not eating all day was neglecting yourself so I need the seriousness of the situation to be understood and it seems that you won’t listen to my words.”

Steve’s fingers drifted under your chin, tilting it until you were looking at him. His eyebrows were raised as he waited for you to answer but it felt like you were momentarily stunned with the weight of his words. With the dynamic of yours, Steve and Bucky’s relationships and being exclusively the submissive one, you’d had a fair few punishments due to certain situations and they ranged from one extreme to the other, both of them making you cum until you were overstimulated and near-passing out, or spanking until you couldn’t sit properly for two days and your cunt dripping with need but they would leave you until healed, making the punishment almost torturous with how much you were throbbing to be touched.

“Yes sir”, you finally managed to respond, unsure how to react as like always, you wanted to lean into his touch but you were being punished so didn’t want to push your luck too far with being given warm caresses of his fingers against your jaw.

However, Steve leaned down to kiss your cheek, giving you the confirmation that you could still lean into his touch, something you did greedily, suddenly feeling needy knowing that you’d upset him and broken your promise to him. “We’ll enjoy the rest of tonight, ok? I still owe you a slow dance anyway, don’t I?” Steve reminded you of the request you’d made to him yesterday, the thought making you reach for him more, but he grasped your reaching hands and placed them next to the plates of food. “Keep eating my love, there will be time for that later”.

He kisses you softly on the lips and you force yourself to continue eating, forgetting about the anxious pit in your stomach as the small amount of affection is enough to forget about the consequences of your actions that would occur at the end of the day.

It was well past midnight, and many of the attendants had left to continue the party elsewhere or return home to their families which meant the music had slowed its best considerably. This only gave Steve the opportunity to grab your hand and sway slowly together in the middle of the dance floor, his arms circled around your hips as yours rest on his shoulders, both of your foreheads leaning together which meant that he had to lean down considerably due to his significantly taller height but he never complained.

“You’ve done such a good job today, honey”, he praised under his breath, leaning to kiss your temple softly and intimately.

You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes and savouring the warmth of his body standing over yours, the softness of his lips and the aftershave that now seemed to remind you of feeling safe. “Thank you, I couldn’t have done it without you though”, you pulled your face away so you could look up into his sky-blue eyes that were flicking across your face, trying to mesmerise every inch of your beauty.

“You mean that you couldn’t do it without my credit card”, Steve joked with a growing smirk and twinkle to his eye as he heard your giggle in response.

“No, not just that, you do so much for all of us, thank you, Steve”. Standing on the tips of your toes, puckering your lips to indicate that you wanted to kiss him, he happily met you in the middle, his freshly shaved face connecting with yours, full lips lightly pressing just enough to want you needing more, both of his large hands cupped your face sweetly. However before you could do this, he began to pepper your face with teasing kisses, along your cheeks, nose, chin, anywhere that he could reach that once again had you laughing with glee.

Steve stood back to his full height, still holding your face so that he could watch your joy without you trying to hide in his chest. Then a third hand was brushing over your lower back, harder than flesh and as familiar as the ones cupping your face as Bucky slid behind you, “room for a third one?” he asked as his arms circled around your waist, lips kissing along your bare shoulder.

“Always”, you smile, eagerly leaning into his touch, feeling happy and safe sandwiched between the two. The three of you swayed on the spot in time with the music, you had a hand gripped onto each of them, wishing that this moment could last forever. “What do you want to do after this Buckaroo? I think they want everyone out at 1 am so they can begin cleaning, did you want to go out for more drinks? I think some of the guys have gone to that bar a few blocks away, we could go there if you like?”

Bucky didn’t answer immediately, his eyes closed as his mouth remained on your naked skin, breathing in your scents, feeling that same calm that you always felt when in their arms but then he was kissing a path up to the shell of your ear. “Oh, I don’t want to go anywhere after this except home where I can really show you how thankful I am that you’ve done this for me”.

Your core tightened in arousal at his words, eyes unfocusing for a brief moment as you tried to think of something to reply, any word at all but it seemed you were completely distracted with the thought of his plans for when you all returned home. Bucky’s chest vibrated against your back as he chuckled deeply, “Is that something you’d like Doll? Do you think you’d like my tongue stroking across every inch of your skin, my fingers curling against the special spot I know you like so much? I won’t be in a rush either, slowly working your body through all of the pleasure that I know you like”.

Your thighs rubbed together uncomfortably, happy they were both holding you up as your knees wobbled, mouth dropping open to help with your breathing as the air suddenly became very thick. “Maybe I won’t even wait until we get home, the toilets here are very spacious, maybe I’ll let you cum before we leave as you have been such a good girl”.

You moaned at the praise name, tilting your head back onto his shoulder, wanting everything he was wanting to give you but then Steve stated in a more stern voice, “Actually Bucky, I’ve got some other plans with her first. Do you want to tell him or shall I?”

Your eyes flashed open as it felt like your whole body had been coated in ice water as the realisation of this dreaded conversation of course had to happen now as you were beginning to become highly aroused and so did Bucky with the hard lump brushing against your backside. Looking up at Steve, you gave him a look that would hopefully soften his threats, eyes wide with hope, bottom lip sticking out slightly but Steve simply brushed his thumb over it and gave you a knowing look.

“That looks not going to work today baby”, Steve insisted. Bucky was now pulling away from where he was nibbling your ear lobe, looking up at his best friend with a questioning glance.

“What’s going on?” he asked and the three of you had stopped swaying now, standing completely still in the middle of the dance floor but luckily there weren’t many people remaining to see the discussion.

“Our beautiful girlfriend decided to break rule one today”, Steve stated without a care in the world, changing the outcome for the night now.

You could feel Bucky pull away further, his hand leaving your waist to grip your jaw, tilting your jaw back so that you were now looking over your shoulder at him, “you didn’t look after yourself!”

“I… I was just so busy today that I didn’t have time to get anything to eat. I've had plenty now though, it’s fine!” You finally found your tongue and explained the events, hating how much this was being exaggerated, it wasn’t like you forgot to eat every day, in fact, you absolutely loved food, it’s just that on this one occasion, the perfection of the party ended up taking priority.

“Baby that’s not the point, you promised me earlier you’d find something to eat to keep your energy up, I need you to understand that yes, even though you’ve eaten now, you can’t go that long without food”, it was Steve now who was forcing your face to look at his.

He did have a point though, even though this had yet to turn into a punishment, you knew for sure you’d never make this mistake again, in fact, you were going to make sure there would be a couple of breakfast bars in your bag from now on, not ever wanting to have this conversation with either boyfriend again.

“There’s no point fighting us on this baby, you know why this is happening?” Steve questioned, tilting his head again with a knowing look, expecting you to repeat back to him why you were going to be punished.

“I’m being punished because I promised that I would eat earlier and I didn’t make it a priority which is breaking rule one”, your voice sounded defeated, knowing any arguments and disagreement you wanted to have would be ignored.

“Good, now let’s go home”, Bucky stated, giving your cheek a soft peck that helped you to not feel as disheartened by the notion of going home just to be punished.

Your mind seemed to blur with the rush of saying goodbye to people and loading up the taxi with all of Bucky’s presents and anything else they managed to steal including a few bottles of Rum before you were squished between the two of them in the back of the cab.

Your hands began to tremble in your lap as your thoughts escalated in your head as to what was coming your way. You always prided yourself on being a good girl and the naturally submissive personality meant that you’d always try and make the boys happy so the thought of a punishment was making you nervous.

Steve and Bucky simultaneously held one of your shaking hands, their thumbs stroking your skin in an attempt to calm you down. The blonde Mafia leader shifted in his seat which was a struggle with his bulging muscles already squeezed into the tight space but he made it work as he now faced you, one arm leaning over the back of your seat so he could lean down to whisper into your ear.

“The safe words are still in effect baby, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to, ok?”

You released a heavy breath, finding the courage to squeeze both of their hands at hearing this. Of course, you already knew this, Steve and Bucky were always very good with their consent, always listening if you needed a break or wanted to stop if things became too intense. “Yes sir”, you made sure to audibly reply, leaning your forehead against his.

“I also meant what I said earlier, you’ve done such a good job today, I still want Bucky to show his appreciation to you but we’ll get to that later”. This also helped your anxiety about being punished, knowing that it wouldn’t last the entire night as it had on previous occasions.

Steve pulled his forehead away from yours but only to kiss a tender kiss against your temple and then returned to looking out of the window. Feeling slightly more needy now with the impending event, you leaned into Bucky’s arm and he returned the intimacy but whispered, “I’ve got you mama, just need you to look after yourself, that's all”.

Even on returning home and unpacking the taxi, there wasn’t any rush to punish. The three of you found some leftover pasta in the fridge, reheated it and kept it in the pan as you all had a fork each and tucked into it as Bucky opened a few of his presents. You and Steve had already given your presents to him in the morning, a brand new motorbike courtesy of Steve and from you, there was a new salve that was supposed to help the ache in his shoulder where the metal and flesh met and when you were worried this wasn’t enough, a little jar of pieces of paper that promised sexual favours whenever he picked out a strip of paper.

He appreciated everything that was given to him and you loved seeing the joy in his eyes but all too long, you were all stumbling up the stairs, exhausted from the long day and you were desperate to take off your dress as it began to feel uncomfortable.

“What are you going?” Steve asked as he watched you begin to pull one of his oversized t-shirts over your head as a makeshift pyjama top but his question had your movements halting as you looked at him with a confused frown.

“Getting ready for bed?”, your answer caused Steve to chuckle with a hint of condescension.

“Oh princess, did you really think we forgot?”.

No…but you certainly had forgotten since returning home about the promise to punish for your earlier mistake. Hugging the shirt to your front, you watched as Steve removed his tie, unbuttoning the top two of his shirt buttons as he walked towards you.

“Remember your safe words?”

“Green, yellow and red”.

“Good, and what about when your mouth is preoccupied?”

Your chest tightened at his new question, wondering what he had in store, “I would tap my hand once, twice or three times or nod my head for green, shake my head once for yellow or twice for red”.

“Well done”.

Those were his last words as he reached to take the material from your grasp, throwing it to the side and leaving you completely bare before him. His eyes appreciate searched over your body and even though you felt exposed under his stare, the subtle smile on his face had you feeling confident.

Steve then gently walked you over to the bed where Bucky had just finished laying out a few objects across the sheets, it appears the two of them had quickly discussed the punishment with the way they wordlessly worked together.

Bucky’s own stare at your naked body was just as loving as Steve’s and it almost looked like he wanted to reach across and follow through with his earlier plans of licking you up but refrained. Instead, he began to layer your body up with restraints, starting from the bottom, placing a spreader bar between your legs, the straps taped around your ankles so that you weren’t able to close them.

Then he was standing behind you, his hands cupping yours to bring them together behind your back so that he could handcuff them together, the metal cool against your warm skin. Lastly, Steve’s black tie was placed over your eyes and tied around the back of your head so that all you were able to see was complete darkness, only instead having to concentrate on your hearing senses as to where the two men were.

“I’m going to lie you on your front across the bed now, Baby girl”, Steve's voice was suddenly behind you instead of Bucky and it made you jolt with surprise but you followed his instructions and the hands that were urging you to bend over the bed. “Take a seat Buck, enjoy the view”.

Your cheeks warmed as you could hear a chair being moved in the room and knew that Bucky was now sitting directly behind you so that he had the perfect view of you bent over the bed, your legs spread open and your already soaked cunt on view for him. Shifting slightly to get comfortable, you were thankful when Steve placed a pillow under your head, helping to take the weight fully off of your neck.

A couple of minutes passed as Steve seemed to wander around the room, preparing for the punishment and all you had to do was wait and try not to squirm which was uncomfortable with how aroused you already were, your feet digging into the carpet of the bedroom floor to try and keep yourself in position, the hands handcuffed resting against your lower back.

“Do you understand why you’re being punished?” Steve suddenly asked, his voice full of authority now as he slipped into his dominant headspace which only made you mewl, wiggling your hips to both show how open you were for him, but also how wet, wishing for him to touch you. Steve wasn’t having it though, gripping one of your arse cheeks firmly to keep you still and waiting for you to answer. It was also usually Steve who dealt the punishments to you, Bucky usually finding that he was too easy to give in to your wishes and giving up halfway through to kiss you better so most of the time he sat back and watched.

“I’m being punished because I forgot to eat all day, breaking rule number one, even after I promised”. This was the first part of your punishment, to explain why you were being disciplined whilst also completely bare, the sensation feeling degrading and embarrassing.

“That’s right”, Steve made sure not to praise you, even though he wanted to say that you were a good girl for answering his question. “I am going to give you 10 slaps to each cheek until they’re both hot to touch and then Bucky is going to decide if you deserve any more punishment for not looking after yourself. Now… I want you to thank me for looking after you with every single slap. Do I make myself clear, baby?”

Your tongue suddenly felt too large for your mouth, 20 spanks overall, you had really upset him to deserve that many. Steve tapped your hip to remind you to talk and you swallowed drily, “Yes sir, I understand”.

Taking a deep breath to try and remain calm, letting your body melt into the sheets, knowing from past experience that if you tensed too much then you’d be aching for many more days than necessary. Behind your blindfold, you couldn’t see Steve smiling as he saw you preparing for his hand, a small voice at the back of his conscious feeling sorry that he had to do this but then he remembered just how long you’d gone without food when you had promised to be good.

Steve’s large palm swatted through the air, the contact with your left arse cheek, causing a loud ‘smack’ that had you jolting but it wasn’t too painful to begin with.

“Thank you for looking after me”, your voice was confident as you were happy to remember to speak but once again, this would all change the further into the punishment you went.

The next few spanks only mildly stung but as the fourth made contact, your arse cheek began to sting, thighs shaking slightly with the impact from trying to flinch away. By the sixth, the skin was warm to the touch but not enough for Steve to stop and you made sure to continue thanking him for each swat.

You were making sure to breathe deeply, in through your nose and out through your mouth, to try and remain in control of your emotions but as the eighth spank connected, you were starting to lose your control. Not only was the stinging in your left arse cheek increasing, but Steve was being teased and letting the tips of his fingers graze further down your thighs, inching closer to your sopping wet lips but never actually touching.

Even though you would prefer not to be punished, there was no denying that the thorough establishment between dominant and submissive, being completely controlled by Steve and furthermore the mixture of pain and pleasure only made you become a drooling mess.

As you thanked Steve for the tenth spank, you were exclusively mouth breathing now, not being able to use the brain power to calm yourself down. Your left cheek was feeling tender now and with the size of Steve’s hand, the sensation spread from your lower back to the tips of your thighs and was now hot to the touch, sweat gathering across your body due to the sensations.

Your boyfriend didn’t give an inclination that he was moving on the next ten until his hand was slapping against your previously untouched cheek. This seemed to snap you out of whatever control that you had been holding onto, a deep groan slipping from your lips, saliva building under your tongue and slipping out of the corner of your mouth and soaking the pillow beneath.

“Thank you for looking after me”, you managed to choke on the lump in your throat, tears beginning to form under the blindfold. It wasn’t overwhelming pain that you were feeling but the throbbing and pulse of your cunt was driving you almost insane, wanting to beg to be touched but you needed to be good and take your punishment.

Three more spanks later and you were openly sobbing, your arse trying to move back with Steve’s hand, desperately chasing his touch. When you expected the fourth, you were disappointed when it didn’t come, knees wobbling as they continued to try and keep your body from collapsing onto the floor. 

“What’s your colour?” Steve asked with more affection to his tone. Green…GreEN, GREEN! You screamed in your head but your tongue didn’t want to say anything that wasn’t “thank you for looking after me”, so instead you opted to tap your fingers once where they rested still cuffed together. “You’re doing so well, only 6 more to go baby”.

Steve’s reassurance only made you cry harder, you had taken more than half of your punishment, the finish line in sight.

Four, five, six, seven spanks on your right cheek and your voice now were only just audible with a whisper as you continued to try and hold back from begging. Your arse was tender to the touch, hot and slightly raised from the impacts.

Not that you could see but Bucky was having to hold onto the edges of the chair with a ferocious grip to stop himself from pouncing over and fucking you hard into the bed. Seeing you completely fucked out of your mind and needy, his cock was throbbing harder than it ever had before from where it stood proudly pointing towards his abs. He had to take it out of the restraints of his trousers it had been so uncomfortable but he didn’t want to touch himself, not when this was a punishment for you, but he couldn’t deny the thick globs of precum that were trickling from the tip and dripping down his abdomen.

Steve was just as hard but kept his cock tucked within his boxers and slacks, needing to remain in control of the punishment for only three more slaps and if he did touch his cock, he knew that he would be doing something similar to what Bucky was desperate to do.

Number eight and nine spanks were given, your entire body trembling now with overwhelming emotions and sensitivity.

Steve swatted his palm down onto your right ass cheek for the tenth time, his skin now red from the impacts but he didn’t care as he listened to you shout in relief at the punishment being over, frantically praising, “Thank you, thank you, thank you”, towards Steve.

You weren’t thinking clearly now, feeling so aroused it was painful, your clit desperate for attention, your hole quivering with the need to be filled. The heavy tension that was once taunting over your body as you waited for each spank was not loosened leaving you feeling floaty and light.

So lost in your fucked-out thoughts, you hadn’t felt the bed shift next to where your head lay as Bucky undid your blindfold, wiping away the tears. “Doll, I’m gonna need you to talk to me”.

You knew he meant to check in that you were ok but all that came out of your mouth was, “Please fuck me, please fuck me please…”.

Bucky’s cock throbbed at the request but he waited for you to calm down slightly, enough so that you opened your eyes but this only turned to more begging as you were now eye level with his member.

“Shh sweet girl, you’ve taken the punishment so well, I don’t think you need any more, I just need to make sure that you’re with us and not too spacey”.

“My colour is green, please fuck me Bucky, I just want your cock, please Daddy”.

Bucky audibly groaned now, eyes rolling back at your desperation and he was instantly moving back to the other end of the bed, removing the remainder of his clothes as he admired your exposed, dripping cunt before stepping closer, working his feet around your spreader bar so that he was now only a couple of inches away from penetrating you.

“Please Bucky! Fuck me…”, your voice was raspy and thick as you glanced over your shoulder, your sight a little blurry from the tears but enough to see him shifting forward.

“My poor needy sweet mama”, Bucky grunted, holding the base of his cock as he pushed it towards your entrance, groaning as he slipped in with ease, your arousal lubing him perfectly. The two of you released near animalistic shouts of relief at finally being touched in the way that you had wanted.

Bucky had attempted to allow you time to adjust to his thick, veiny shaft but you immediately began to roll your hips, wanting him to move and he was more than happy to oblige. With his metal hand holding onto your hip, his flesh hand held onto your handcuffed hands, using both as momentum to pull your body back and forth onto his cock that was stroking your warm wet walls just how you wanted.

The birthday boy did little to hold back his movements, fucking you hard and fast and with the way your sore arse was smacking into his hips, it wasn’t long before your first orgasm was quivering your cunt in bursts around him. He didn’t relent, fucking you through it and making the pulsing last as long as it could before it fluttered to a stop, leaving you sensitive and wanting more.

Your eyes were clenched closed as you enjoyed Bucky’s pleasure, your moans vibrating into the bed.

A firm hand was then suddenly gripping your cheeks, making your eyes snap open to look at Steve from where he knelt next to the bed so you were both at eye level. “Think you can take me to baby?” he asked with a husky voice, his other arm moving vigorously as he touched himself from where you couldn’t see.

You didn’t answer verbally, instead, your jaw swung open, tongue sticking out as a sign that you wanted him in your mouth, wanting to taste his arousal.

Steve and Bucky then fucked your two holes, as Bucky fucked forward it pushed your mouth further onto Steve’s length that dragged against the back of your throat, causing more tears to spring free from your eyes, your moans muffled by his member.

You weren’t sure when but you came again, your body absolutely exhausted as Bucky’s frantic fucking only meant that the peaked sensation of the orgasm lasted longer which only assisted in Steve’s pleasure as your throat tightened.

“You’re doing so well for us sweetheart, that’s it, taking my cock like a good girl, Are you ready for daddy’s load?” you weren't able to verbally answer but you made sure to suck him harder as Steve held the back of your head. His cock pulsed a few times before he remained still, his tip at the back of your throat and his cum began spurting into you. Eagrly you drank it down, groaning at the salty goodness that was his seed, not stopping your movements until his cock began to soften and he eased out of your mouth.

“Fuck-Shit- Ah!”, Bucky grunted hysterically, his thrusting erratic and grip on your body tight as he came too, watching you take Steve’s load so well, he couldn’t hold back his own release. “Can you feel me filling you up, Doll? Wanna see it dripping out of you…”.

As Bucky’s cock began to soften post-orgasm, he gently pulled out, careful of your sensitive pussy and then groaned seeing his white, thick juices spilling out of your used hole. “So fucking pretty”, he praised and you mewled in response, eyes closed and not willing to open.

“You ok, my love?” Steve asked sitting next to your head once more, stroking the side of your drenched face that was covered in sweat, saliva and tears.

“I’m ok”, you answered honestly, but your voice was so quiet and timid, completely exhausted from both the long day setting up the party but also the nighttime activities.

Steve and Bucky were careful with their next few steps, the aftercare that they provided was one of their favourite parts in this type of relationship, being able to look after you after you’d been so good for them, making you feel safe and loved.

Even though all you wanted to do was fall asleep, they made sure to keep you awake as they undid all of the restraints, massaging the areas of your wrist and ankle specifically before Bucky gathered you into his arms and walked towards the bathroom.

In there, they ran a warm bath, cleaning your body but also the temperature helping to relax your aching body from being held in the same position for so long. It also helped the heat coming from your spanked arse.

Once cleaned, Steve held you up as Bucky dried, finally easing that t-shirt from earlier onto your body. The brunette found the jar of cooling salve next to his side of the bed, massaging the cream onto your arse to help with the pain and heat that was radiating from the surface, the sensation making you moan deeply.

Lastly, as you were slotted between Steve and Bucky on the bed, they passed you a glass of water, watching as you finished it before giving you a chocolate bar, even though you were all going to bed, it was better to have some energy than waking feeling worse.

As the bedside light was switched off, Bucky kissed the tip of your nose, “I love you so much, thank you both for today, it’s been the best day ever”.

“I love you too, Buckaroo, I’m so glad you’re a part of my life”, you responded honestly before sleep captured your consciousness.

[dokries]

my boo

pairing: boo seungkwan x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: ~1.1k (with bonus)

warnings: seungkwan being embarrassing in public, going to the beach/sea, mentions of food in the bonus

author note: hi i know it’s may but. here’s a first snow seungkwan fic? i wrote this and originally posted it in early december so…basically, i don’t want to keep this in the drafts until then HAHA once again, this is a repost! if you think you’ve seen it, you probably have :D (it is still my work though of course)

masterlist

“IT’S SNOWING!” you hear seungkwan’s voice right before you get tackled by him on the couch, his limbs trapping you underneath him.

you giggle at his excited expression before looking over his shoulder, seeing the white flakes fall outside through the window. “you’re right, it is. the weather report said there was a 80% chance of snow today.”

he gets up, untangling your bodies before pouting at your cool demeanour. “you’re not excited. why are you not excited?”

you shrug before getting up, groaning from the use of your legs after the time you had spent sitting down. “i mean, it’s not like it doesn’t snow every winter.”

seungkwan gasps before putting a hand to his chest, offended. “are you telling me that your first winter with me isn’t important? we haven’t even had a date in the snow yet! or—or literally anything wintery! i can’t believe this. why do i even love you?” he finishes ranting with a huff, turning his body away from you.

you roll your eyes fondly at your tangerine boy before pulling his hand towards you, urging him to look at your face.

“it’s nothing like that kwannie, i promise,” you say before grinning widely. “and you love me because of my amazing sense of humour and just because i’m great, of course.”

he sighs and gives you a fake annoyed expression before smiling mischievously. “so this means you’ll let me take you to the beach so we can have a photoshoot right? yeah,” he says, pulling your arm to the entryway, giving you no choice but to put up with his antics. (you would anyway; it’s him after all.)

“wait…in this?” you look down at your silly moose pyjamas, and at seungkwan’s matching ones before shaking your head. you knew seungkwan didn’t care—he loved to be open about your relationship, and these pyjamas definitely helped that. besides, it’s winter! you would be wearing a jacket on top anyway.

you let seungkwan put your coat on you (not without a little peck on your forehead to let you know he wasn’t actually mad; you knew he never was when he acted like this) and your socks when you struggle before putting on his own winter gear and opening the door. he lets out a low breath before taking your hand and putting it in his pocket, both your hand—and hearts—warm together.

…

in the car, you clap every time after seungkwan finishes belting out a christmas song from a playlist you had found (how he managed to focus on driving while doing this, you had no idea) and when he parks in the small lot the beach has, you grin, fully excited for your little date.

after your hands reunite in his coat pocket, he takes you to your favourite spot whenever you both went to the beach; a place not too close to the water where you had to worry about getting wet, but also one where you could still see the serene beauty of the ocean clearly.

as you take your phone out of your pocket to take pictures of the icy sea, you hear the sounds of seungkwan’s phone clicking in your direction. when you turn to look at him with a question on your face, he shrugs before saying, “just making sure i take pictures of the best view around here.”

soon enough, your photo taking session comes to an end, and you walk back to your parked car, laughing at a silly picture you took of seungkwan. he takes a look around before running over to a small field nearby covered in fresh snow, before slipping and falling.

“seungkwan?? you okay, honey?” you ask as you run over to his side before your worried expression turns into a deadpan, seeing his pose. he was on his side with his elbow propping up his head, and before you can say anything about how silly he looks, he wiggles his eyebrows. “that was a perfect reenactment of how i fell for you, my pookie dookie snookie pookums.”

before you can shush him and remind him that you’re in public, you hear a loud gasp and a little girl’s voice say, “mommy, look! they’re flirting!” from behind you.

you turn your eyes back to the trail you were walking on with your boyfriend just a few minutes ago, and see a mother cover her young daughter’s eyes from seungkwan’s antics before hurriedly walking away from the scene you two were making.

thankfully, as soon as they leave, there’s no one to see the way you crouch down and smack seungkwan’s shoulder. “what was that for, kwannie?!”

he pouts before sticking out his tongue at you and pulling you down onto the snow beside him. “i was just showing my love for you, my sweetheart plum sugar with two eggs five cups of flour—”

you shut him up with a small peck to his cheek before shooting his lovestruck face a dirty look. “that’s enough out of you now. i’m telling your mother that you embarrass me in public,” you huff, fully knowing that seungkwan’s mother simply adored you.

you giggle when seungkwan makes a sound of indignation and instead peck his cheek again. “fine, fine, i won’t. but…you have to stop using those corny pet names.”

he huffs before sighing dramatically.

“fine. i’ll stop, my five large egg yolks, one and one third cups water…okay i’ll stop,” he finishes off, seeing your face before leaning in to peck your cheek, making you giggle and him smile. “there’s my boo.”

bonus!

in the car, you remember to ask seungkwan something. “what were you even saying? my 2 cups of sugar…was that even an actual recipe?”

he looks at you while fixing his rearview mirror. “yeah, it’s from a recipe for lemon meringue pie.” his neck flushes a bit as he continues, “i was planning to make it for you one day…so it was the first thing i thought of.”

the next day, you wake up to the smell of something burning. you quickly get up and sprint to the kitchen, only to see seungkwan putting something in the trash sheepishly. “…i burnt the pie.”

though it takes a while to get the smell out of your home, and the window needs to be open in the cold weather, you have an excuse to cuddle up with seungkwan in your warmest blanket. (he would anytime you asked anyway; no need for burnt baked goods).