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violentdelightsandviolentends · 2 months

Note

hey!!

could i maybe get a roommate fic where carmy’s getting ridden and about to come and has no filter so it slips out that he loves her

Baby, Please.

it’s been on the tip of his tongue for too long. it was only a matter of time.

roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. carmy’s a bit pathetic at some points in this (you’re welcome)

word count - 2.4k

authors note - ah shit, here we go again. I always end writing carmy as a little bitch in these, sorry lmao (i’m not). but here it is!! a love confession!! will they ever talk about anything, I hear you ask? we’ll see…

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

Carmen automatically smiles when he hears your keys clinking against the lock in the front door.

As soon as he clocks it, he rolls his eyes at himself. You’re not supposed to get butterflies in your stomach when your roommate comes home on a random Thursday evening.

And yet here he is, sitting on the couch, trying to play it cool - as if he hasn’t been waiting for your return for the last hour and a half.

You’re usually back from work before he is, and suddenly he’s grateful for it. He couldn’t do this everyday. Sitting, waiting for you to come home as if you’ve been gone for months rather than nine or so hours. The apartment feels a little bigger, a little colder without you in it. Carmy wonders how he lived here for so long without you.

You swing the door open, kicking off your shoes instantly. Throwing your bag onto the counter, you take in the sight of your home. It’s clean, tidied, more organised than you’ve seen it in a while. Carmy’s been putting the work in while you’ve been gone.

“What happened, Carmen? Are you okay?”

“W-what?”

“Were you stress cleaning?”

He laughs, all full and warm.

“No, babe. Just regular cleaning.”

He rises from the couch, coming over to press a kiss into your cheek before slipping your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it up behind you.

“Carmen, what’s that smell?”

“Tomato and basil slow baked rigatoni. Homemade garlic bread. And then, if you have any room left… my homemade snickerdoodles.”

“Did you… cook for me?”

“Yes I did, baby. It’s the least I can do after you’ve been at work all day.”

It’s all so domestic, so thoughtful, so heartfelt, that you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. You step forward into his space, looping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. He grins at you when you pull away.

“What was that for?”

“A thank you,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I really won the roommate lottery, huh?”

“We both did,” he chuckles, covering your face in kisses while you squirm in his arms.

Eventually, he lets you go, but not before raking his eyes up and down your figure very slowly. He takes you in - your work clothes, the way your hair is falling out slightly, your bare feet. As much as you want to let him devour you, you’re starving. A different kind of hunger to his.

“Dinner first. That after.”

“What after?” he plays coy, trying to fight the smirk off his face.

“Don’t play dumb, Berzatto. It’s not a good look on you.”

With that, you leave the kitchen to get changed, laughing as you go.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You sink further into Carmy’s side on the couch, trying desperately to pay attention to the vintage sitcom that’s playing on the TV.

All you can focus on are the rough fingertips tracing patterns on the bare skin of your thigh. They keep getting higher, brushing the seam of your pyjama shorts occasionally. Every so often, Carmy leans in to press a kiss onto your temple, into your hair, behind your ear. You rest your head on his chest, soothed by the steady beat of his heart.

“That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I could eat that pasta every day for the rest of my life and die a happy woman.”

Carmy laughs, and the sound rumbles through both of you.

“I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You sit up, then, turning in your seat to look him in the eyes.

“Carmen. You cook for me almost every day.”

“Yeah, but… not really.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Most of the time when I’m cooking at home, I’m trying a new recipe, or perfecting an old one - for the restaurant. And then we both eat it for dinner. But tonight, I actually picked a recipe I knew you’d love, and made it for you. Because I don’t cook for you often enough.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling as you do it.

“You know I don’t mind either way, right? Whatever you make is always delicious. Except for that weird duck mousse from last week. That was… awful.”

He shoves you playfully, laughing when you topple backwards onto the couch cushions. Climbing onto you, he digs his fingers into your ribs, chuckling as you try to squirm away from him.

“Stop, before I kick you in the stomach or something,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to try and keep him still.

When that doesn’t work, you resort to dirtier tactics. You roll your hips up into his, watching as his face changes when he realises what you’re doing. The tickling stops, replaced by fingertips gripping your sides in a completely different way.

“Fuck,” he murmurs into your neck as he drops his head down. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Minx.”

“Well you wouldn’t stop, so…”

“You’re usually telling me not to stop, honey. ‘Oh, Carmen, don’t stop baby, don’t stop’…”

You laugh as he mocks you, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

“You’re such a dick.”

“You still want me though, huh?”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, tension thickening in the air. Carmy’s eyes go dark as he looks down at you, gaze raking across your face. You nod in response to his question, chewing at your bottom lip.

“You gonna let me thank you for dinner properly, Berzatto?

Who is he to say no to an offer like that?

You tighten your legs around his waist and pull his hips down to yours, flipping you both over on the couch. You settle with your thighs on either side of his, your weight keeping him anchored down to the cushions.

“You look so pretty underneath me,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your gentle fingertips. “Pretty, pretty boy.”

Carmy’s hips buck up into yours at the praise.

“You’re so fucking predictable,” you giggle as he groans. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Love what?”

His voice is all strained and breathy already, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Being my bitch.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, but his tightening grip on your waist gives him away. You lean in to press your forehead to his, breathing him in for a moment. Carmy tilts his head up to meet your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth as you whine.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, melding your lips against his. You let him explore your mouth, winding your hips down into him in a steady motion. You lean back to pull his shirt over his head, yours following suit shortly afterwards and ending up in a pile on the floor.

Carmy kisses his way across your chest, nipping and sucking as he goes. You’re way past the don’t leave marks stage. Neither of you care anymore. You rake your nails down his stomach, smirking when he shudders, goosebumps rising across his skin.

You tip forward to bite at the muscle of Carmy’s neck, licking a stripe up his throat as you go. He tastes like his minty shower gel and cinnamon sugar from the snickerdoodles. It’s the perfect combination to make your mouth water.

He tangles his fingers into the waistband of your pyjama shorts, trying to tug them down. You go to stand up to help him, but the whine he lets out stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

“Carmen, if you want my pants off, you need to let me stand up.”

“You can do it here.”

He pulls you back down into his lap, ignoring your raised eyebrows. You manage to slip your shorts and panties down one leg, rising awkwardly on the other to try and get them off. You kick them to the floor, chuckling as you settle back over Carmy’s hips.

“Happy now?”

“Very happy,” he mumbles, reattaching his lips to your jaw. “The happiest. Got the prettiest girl in the world naked in my lap right now.”

Heat rises across your chest at the compliment, head ducking down to avoid his eyes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, tugging down the waistband of Carmy’s sweatpants.

You pull them and his boxers off in one fell swoop, dropping them onto the floor. When you take him in your hand, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, looking up at you through thick lashes.

“Wait, baby.”

You freeze instantly, finally meeting his gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong. Just need to get you ready first.”

You shake your head, gentle smile on your face. He’s always thinking about you. Selfless boy.

“I am more than ready, Carmen.”

When he looks at you with skepticism in his eyes, you decide to make a point.

You trail your fingers down your stomach, pulling them through your wetness when you reach it. Sliding a digit inside, you rock your hips, throwing your head back. You can both hear how ready you are, and it makes Carmy groan.

“Oh, fuck.”

He’s whispering in awe, careful not to spook you when you’re so clearly in your own little world. You add another finger, and Carmy has to grip your hips as hard as he can to stop himself from flipping you over and having his way with you.

You remove your fingers and shove them straight into Carmy’s mouth, panting as he laves his tongue around them. You both whine in unison. Always so in sync.

“I’m more than ready,” you whisper into his jaw. “Promise.”

“I believe you,” he croaks, wrecked already. “Please.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg.”

You line him up, sinking down ever so slowly. You want to feel every inch, every ridge, every movement. You don’t want to miss anything.

You both drop your heads back in bliss, chests heaving against each other. You’re adjusting, while Carmy’s trying to get a hold of himself. He doesn’t want it to be over too quickly, but it so easily could be if he isn’t careful. He runs his hands up and down the bare skin of your back, admiring how soft you are.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says through gritted teeth. “Shit, baby.”

“You feel so good. So big, Carmen. Fuck.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you can’t help but tease, running your thumb over his bottom lip.

“Talk like that. Fuck.”

“Oh,” you laugh in fake realisation. “You like it a little too much, huh?”

He leans his head forward to rest on your chest, gasping when you lift your hips up to drop them back down. It’s all so slick, so easy. It’s like you’re made for each other, made to fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

You can’t help but want to push him a little further. He’s always so quietly domineering, so seemingly in control, that you love when he allows himself to fray at the edges slightly. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you off.

“So you don’t want me to tell you how you’re filling me up just right? That you’re so big, that you feel so fucking good? That I could sit here for hours? That I’ve never had it like this with anyone?”

Carmy’s hips buck up involuntarily, and you chuckle a little cruelly.

“Baby, please.”

“Okay, Carmen. Okay.”

You press a sugary sweet kiss to his lips before settling your hands on his broad shoulders to give yourself some stability. You set a steady rhythm, winding your hips up and gliding them back down with a clear purpose. Your knees ache, and your hips are being held open a little too wide, but you feel delirious with it, high off the pleasure. It’s good. So good.

“Shit, honey. Fuck. S’good, yeah? So good. Keep going, don’t stop.”

You’ve always found his babbling amusing, but right now there’s nothing funny about the way the sound of his voice pushes you undeniably closer and closer to the edge. You never want him to stop talking.

Carmy moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, rubbing soft but intentional circles onto your clit. It sets your nerves alight, whole body buzzing with anticipation.

You keep your rhythm going, even as it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate. You can feel that Carmy’s close, that he’s sitting on a knife’s edge waiting for you. You realise, suddenly, that you want him to come before you. You want to undo him.

You move one hand to tangle in his hair, while the other settles at his throat. You don’t squeeze too hard, just enough to turn his moans into breathy little ah ah ahs.

“Baby, please. Fuck, so close. So good, honey. You’re so good.”

Your grip tightens in his curls, making him groan. Your hips get faster, and so do his fingers on your clit, the pressure more insistent now.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, don’t stop baby. Fuck, I love this. I love you. Keep going, so close. Atta girl.”

Your brain is too lost in your actions to register his words. Instead, you press your forehead to his, kissing him gently in contrast to the violent slam of your hips. This juxtaposition seems to be Carmy’s undoing, his grip on your hip tightening so much you hope it’ll bruise.

He emits the most gorgeous moan you’ve ever heard when he comes, which sends you straight over the edge. You tighten like a vice, whole body shuddering with it. Your climax seems to last forever, every single one of your nerves fried and frayed.

You both come down slowly, foreheads pressed together and lungs heaving. You’re panting into his mouth, smoothing out his hair where your fingers have ruffled it. Carmy’s arms wrap around your back, pulling you in so you’re chest to chest as he presses a kiss to your temple. You sit like this for a while, completely at peace in each other’s company.

Eventually, after what could have been hours but was probably minutes, you break the silence.

“So we should probably talk about the I love you, huh?”

@jazminsjaz @buendiabebeta @kingsqueensandvagabonds

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natalievoncatte · 3 months

Text

Lena was waking up, and not in her own bed. She was somewhere warm, swaddled in a heavy blanket. Her head was pounding and she didn’t want to open her eyes. A soft mewling sound tumbled from her lips, and she made as if to blink. Her eyes felt gummy and stuck shut.

“Shhhh,” a small, soft voice murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“Wuh?”

“Just rest,” Kara said.

It was easy to rest. He head fell against the wall of muscle that was Kara’s chest and pillowed on her breast and Lena let out a soft sigh, shifting a bit as she came around and grew more wakeful. She was sitting in Kara’s lap as Kara leaned back against a wall, and Kara had unclasped her cape and wrapped it around her in an impenetrable blanket.

As Lena opened her eyes, she saw that Kara was carding her fingers through Lena’s hair, so gently she barely felt it.

“Your hair is really pretty.”

“Thanks,” said Lena.

A kind of confusion swept through her. Weren’t they fighting? Lena was mad. She was furious. She was world-endingly, life-burn-downingly mad at the woman in whose lap she currently sat. Kara had lied to her about the fundamental nature of who she was and… and…

Lena didn’t feel mad.

“They gave you some pretty heavy drugs when they kidnapped you.”

“Kidnapped me?”

Kara let out a little snort. “You probably don’t remember. These were the lamest kidnappers, Lena. They nabbed you and immediately called me out. I found you and bagged them before you even came around from the drugs.”

“Thanks.”

“You probably won’t remember any of this later,” Kara sighed. “I just want to tell you I’m sorry again. I’m sorry I lied. It was wrong and you deserved better. I should have given you my trust the way you gave it to me.”

Lena blinked a few times but said nothing.

“I’ll never stop saving you. I will always protect you. Even if you never forgive me.”

Lena shifted slightly, pressing a little into Kara, who was now lightly teasing the tips of her fingers across Lena’s scalp, sending light tingles through her sleepy body. Kara yawned and shrugged.

“You okay? You warm enough?”

Lena nodded.

“Alex is coming with a team, she’ll make sure you’re all right. Go back to sleep, baby.”

Baby. That word sent a shockwave through her.

Lena’s eyes drifted shut. She was very tired and it made sense to sleep, to just let it all go. She was safe in Kara’s arms.

As she tumbled towards the dark, she felt the soft press of warm lips to her forehead.

“There’s still so much I want to tell you.”

Lena sighed and nuzzled into Kara’s shoulder. She was soft and warm and smelled heavenly, not just her lavender perfume but the soft smell of her. Lena never told Kara that she wanted to smell her armpits after spin class.

“You want to smell my armpits?!” Kara choked out.

Oh. That was supposed to be inside voice.

“Mmmhmm,” said Lena.

“Can I tell you something, since you probably won’t remember this later?”

“Sure.”

“I’m in love with you.”

Lena started, jolting a little more awake.

“No, shhh,” Kara said, pulling her into a tighter hug. “I know it doesn’t change anything. You don’t owe me anything. I’m just scared. I need you to know of something happens, if…” her breath caught. “If not fast enough.”

“Kara,” said Lena.

“Shh,” Kara murmured, touching a soft kiss to her forehead again that sent a jolt rippling through her.

“I don’t even know if you like girls. It’s just that was the real reason why I was so shitty and hid who I was. I was scared you’d leave if I told you and… and it happened anyway. I’m so sorry.”

Kara sighed.

“Sometimes I wish I could be human so there’d be no secret. I don’t know of Human Kara would have been brave enough to say anything to you but I’m a coward. It would be so easy if there was no lie.”

Lena opened her eyes and looked up. Hot tears glittered on Kara’s cheeks.

“And you know, if you lived with me, and not in that big fancy penthouse, nobody would kidnap you. I’d keep you safe and get you breakfast and make sure you eat before work and take care of you because you don’t take care of yourself.”

“Mmhm, and what do you get out of this arrangement?”

“Well,” said Kara, “I’d get to kiss the prettiest girl in the world.”

“Is that all?”

Kara’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Well. I could do more than kiss. I never have with another woman so I’m not sure how… but I want to…”

She brushed bright scarlet.

“I could teach you,” Lena whispered.

“Don’t do that,” said Kara. “Don’t dangle that in front of me, if there’s no chance.”

“Kara,” Lena murmured, her drugged brain grinding its gears a little, “you don’t fill someone’s office with flowers as a friendly gesture. One does not buy an entire billion dollar media empire to hang out with one person as a platonic exercise.”

“Oh,” said Kara.

“I thought you were straight,” said Lena. “It boggles my mind that you thought I was. Me? Really? Have you seen me?”

“Yes,” Kara was looking at her intently now. “I have seen you since the first day. When I saw you for the first time I felt something I’ve never felt before or since.”

“This fight we’re having,” said Lena. “It doesn’t really feel important right now.”

“I know, but you’re on drugs.”

“Will you kiss me?”

“No.”

Kara’s lips were trembling. She dipped slightly as if she’d changed her mind, then pulled back and pursed her lips, pressing her eyes tightly closed.

“You might not feel this way later. It would be wrong.”

Alex chose that exact moment to kick the door in, sending a shower of splinters across the room. Kara pivoted in anticipation, shielding Lena but twisting around so they were even closer, Kara’s stunning blue eyes filling Lena’s vision.

“If you still feel this way later, call me.”

From then it became a blur. Kara placed Lena gently on a stretcher and reclaimed her cap, then trudged a safe distance away and flew off.

Alex was curt and short with her as usual, fussing over unnecessary risks and complaining sharply that Lena got into too much trouble, before sharply cutting off the conversation when it got too friendly and storming off.

Lena ended up back in her penthouse by six, all in all a fairly convenient kidnapping and rescue. She trundled inside and sat down on the couch, staring straight ahead for a while before she went to pour a glass of scotch, then thought better of it.

The night was chilly. National City never really got cold, but on a January night it could be brisk. Lena leaned on her railing and stared out at the bright lights of the city, the flow of traffic beneath and the distant sounds of life and joy.

Suddenly she felt very cold.

“Kara,” she sighed.

In an instant she was there, appearing in a faint gust. Her cape billowed out majestically behind her, hair aloft on the wind currents like clouds of spun gold. Kara didn’t look like an angel; angels looked like Kara.

“Come inside.”

Lena turned and walked back into the warmer confines, hearing the gentle thud of Kara’s boots on the balcony and her soft footsteps walking over.

“Haven’t been here in a while.”

“I used to dream of you moving in with me,” Lena admitted.

Kara stood silently behind her, shifting on her feet.

“I used to think about pampering you every time you mentioned that your rent was high or joked about a reporter’s salary. I wanted to take care of you, treat you, give you fine things.”

“You don’t have to give me anything.”

Lena turned around and crossed the distance between them. With Lena barefoot and Kara in heels, she towered over her. Lena stepped aggressively into her space and Kara didn’t flinch as Lena curled her fingers in the collar of her suit and pulled her down.

She didn’t hesitate. She gently bracketed Lena’s hips in her hands and pulled her in, bending over her to bring their lips together, Kara’s every move soft and gentle, the utmost care in every tiny gesture.

Kara was a good kisser. Lena let it deepen, feeling the heat flush in her chest and elsewhere, as Kara swept her cape around the both of them in a grand, silly, absurdly romantic gesture that made Lena’s knees go all wobbly and her belly flare with warmth.

“I could give you another chance,” Lena whispered into Kara’s lips.

“I’d like that.”

“Want to fly me home?”

“You are home,” said Kara, sounding a little confused.

Lena looked around the apartment, then rested her head on Kara’s chest. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh,” said Lena.

“Take me back to your loft. We can kiss and do the other things and then you can go get me breakfast.”

Kara slid her arm under Lena’s legs and back and picked her up, tucking Lena gently against her chest, stepped up onto the balcony railing and then off, into space. Lena’s breath caught and she tensed as she always did. She really didn’t like heights.

“I won’t drop you.”

Flying back through Kara’s window was a little awkward with the two of them, but they managed. Inside, Kara deposited her on the couch and the fussing began.

First, she made Lena put on a hoodie at the first sign of a shiver. It was old and threadbare and smelled like Kara, and when she wasn’t looking Lena buried her face in the sleeve and breathed it in.

Kara placed an order at a local restaurant and rather than wait for delivery, zipped out and got it herself.

“Do the people at the potsticker place not freak out when Supergirl pops in?”

“Actually, they give me a discount.”

She put the food in front of Lena and disappeared briefly, emerging in a tank top and running shorts, and Lena almost dropped the potsticker she was about to bite into.

Kara sat down beside her, and Lena stared at her. She wasn’t wearing her glasses and her hair was in a loose ponytail, leaving her in a kind of halfway state between Kara and Supergirl. Despite the display of her blocky shoulders and the ribbed fabric tight on her bunching abs, she looked so warm and soft.

Kara speared the potsticker and popped it into her own mouth.

“Hey!” Lena chirped.

“You were just staring at it.”

“Kara!”

“Fine, here.”

Kara gently took another dumpling in her chopsticks and offered it. Lena looked at her askance, then leaned forward and took it in her mouth, eyes never leaving Kara.

Slowly, they shifted together until they were side by side on the sofa, Lena sort of falling onto Kara as she sank into the cushions. They were less eating and more feeding each other, which turned into Lena feeding Kara as they watched whatever came on the TV.

Kara slowly worked an arm around Lena’s waist and Lena turned, throwing her legs across Kara’s thighs.

“I’m tired,” said Lena.

“You’ve had a long day.”

“Want to go to bed?” Lena said. She tried to put her best husk into her voice but it cracked a little and betrayed her.

Kara said nothing. She smiled and lifted Lena up with ease and carried her to the bed.

Lena shimmied out of her leggings, letting them fall around her ankles, all while covered by the oversized hoodie, and her heart was pounding as Kara lifted the covers with an exaggerated gesture and beckoned her into the bed. Lena climbed aboard.

Kara crawled in after her and embraced her like she was trying to pull Lena inside her body.

“You must be tired,” Kara murmured. “It’s okay if you just want to sleep.”

“I am,” Lena whispered back.

Kara started to pull back, but Lena held on. “Can you hold me for a while.”

“Nothing is gonna get you.”

Lena closed her eyes and curled up against her, sighing.

Two weeks later, she put the penthouse on the market.

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mywritersmind · 8 days

Text

SAVIOR - LN4

pt.2

summary : Y/n’s favorite place has quickly become her and Lando’s shared hallway. They grow closer and finally make it to the fresh air.

OG SUMMARY (When y/n’s absent neighbor shows up, causing her great annoyance with smoke and repetitive beeping, she marches over to tell the man off but is met with a handsome face and strong hands that are in distress.)

listen up : no warnings!! y/n is clueless abt f1. lando is silly. i’m craving strawberries now.

word count : 1878

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I haul my five grocery bags into the elevator, struggling to keep them all off the ground. I sigh when I finally still in the metal box, i’ve carried these at least two blocks and one had broken on the way.

The doors are about to close but a hand slides in between them, making them automatically open for him.

Hello my hot mysterious neighbor.

He looks relieved he made it, “Y/n!” He says cheerfully, like we’ve known each other for ages. It’s been a couple weeks since I slammed on his door and stomped through his kitchen.

The other side of the hallway had been quiet until last night when I heard keys rattling and the door opening. I can’t help but wonder what he does that keeps him from home so often.

“Lando, Hi!” I smile back as he slides beside me and presses our floor.

“You need help?” He eyes the bags as I bite my lip, not wanting to bother him. I don’t have the time to respond because he takes three bags out of my hands like it’s nothing.

“Thank you.” I sigh, “I’ve been struggling for like two blocks.” He laughs a bit with me as the numbers get higher and higher.

“I’m happy to help.” We finally reach our floor, Lando watches me go first and walk to my door, unlocking it and walking in.

Lando follows hesitantly, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed.

“Thank you again! I put myself in a bit of a bind when I decided that my friends need fifteen types of salami and cheese.” I place the bags on the counter, Lando following.

I push back my hair and suddenly wish I had cleaned up a bit more. My friends are coming over tonight and I had decided to push back my cleaning. Looking around at the clothes and old popcorn bowls scattered around makes me want to slap myself.

“Really, I like to lend a hand! I never get to be neighborly.” He shrugs.

“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” I start placing the cold items in the freezer.

He leans against the counter, his arms holding him up and looking alarmingly fit, “Uh… You ever follow Formula 1?”

I nod, “Kinda? I used to love it!” My mom and I would watch every sunday but I stopped in college so I don’t know any of the current grid, “So you work in the sport! That’s cool, pretty hands on?” I ask as he laughs a bit, looking awkward.

“Yeah, I work with the cars.” He looks around my place a bit, “So, why does one need this much food? I’m judging or anything it’s just… You don’t seem like the type to need a jumbo sized pretzel bag.”

I smile and snatch the bag from him, “I could definitely eat all of this by the way! But I'm having a bit of a party tonight. If anything’s too loud just let me know! It’s just old friends from college- actually.” I look up at him, a boost of confidence appearing in me, “You could join us. If you’re not busy.”

It suddenly sounds like a ridiculously stupid idea. I turn back to the fridge, placing a bottle of lemonade in it and cringing.

“I would love to.” I let out a sigh of relief, “But I've got plans…” I frown and turn back to him, finally putting away the last of my groceries.

“Aw.”

“It’s really nice of you to invite me.” I smile, a bit sad and confused why I'm disappointed. I mean I barely know the man. “What do you do for work?”

I lean against the counter so I'm across from him, “I’m a writer. Journalism right now but I really want to take a more bookish route…”

He genuinely looks so intrigued, more interested than anyone else who I've told I write articles about neighborhood drama.

He checks his watch, which I'm now realizing is incredibly expensive, and swears, “I gotta go. Have fun with your party tonight.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I definitely do have fun. My friends and I eat, drink, and play board games just like we’re back in dorms. I’m seeing my last and closest friend off when Lando comes up the hallway, As my friend's eyes go wide when she sees him, I shake my head.

“Goodbye!” I push her out of my apartment, “Love you!”

“Yeah love you too! Text me!” She walks past Lando, nodding at him before she turns behind his back and mouths ‘he’s hot’.

I roll my eyes at her, a smile still on my face as Lando looks at me. He’s in a full suit, holding his blazer in his hand.

“Fun time then?” God he’s hot!

“Absolutely!” I giggle, a bit tipsy, “How about you then?” I eye his suit.

“As good as I could make it.”

I slap my hand over my mouth, “God you aren’t coming from a funeral then, are you?”

He laughs at this, “No! No. A work banquet thing.”

I giggle a bit as he turns to his door, “Hey!” I say without thinking, “Would you want to come in? I have wine.”

He’s sitting on my couch thirty minutes later, a glass deep and talking about where he’s traveled too.

“That’s my dream!” I say, my feet tucked under myself as I tilt my head on the couch cushions, “Traveling. I mean- You’ve been everywhere!”

He shrugs, sipping his wine, his tie undone and shoes off, “It’s amazing but I'm not there for long so I don’t usually get to sightsee much. Honestly the most interesting thing that’s happened to me recently is this pretty girl came to save my baking disaster.”

I hum to his words, blushing a bit, “Sounds like a hero if i’ve ever heard one.” We both go silent, taking pieces of my leftover charcuterie board. “Should I start watching F1?”

“No!” He says it so quick that i’m taken aback.

“No?”

He laughs a bit, shaking it off, “It’s boring. I can’t have someone else in my life talk about it.”

I spin my wine around in the glass, “So I'm someone in your life now?”

He smirks, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

I pretend to contemplate this, “I’ve never had a friend who hasn’t gone to the strawberry market with me.”

He makes an odd face, “So we must go then.”

I sigh, “If you want to be my friend…”

The corner of his mouth pulls, “Tomorrow at 9?”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

He’s at my door at 9:12. Thank god he’s late because I hop over to the door, pulling on my shoe and pulling down my jean skirt.

I open the door and stand up straight, smiling breathlessly. He, of course, looks perfect in jeans and an olive green shirt, “Morning.”

“Ready to taste the best strawberries you’ve ever had?” I grab my bag and keys.

“So ready.”

We make it to the market just on time. It’s my favorite neighborhood gem. Every Sunday people gather with strawberries. There are big and small, some covered in chocolate and some in honey.

I buy a box of chocolate ones, well Lando does. He insists that he still owes me. Handing one to Lando with an extra fork, he bites into it, his eyes roll, “Fucking hell.” I nod, excited that he likes them as much as I do.

“My favorite treat! Something you can’t burn your house down with.” I eye him and he eyes me right back. Being with Lando is like a breath of fresh air. I’ve never been so confident in my social skills.

He laughs with a shop owner as he buys his pack of plain strawberries. He's so nice and just listens politely as the woman goes on and on about her childhood on a strawberry farm.

He gives her a bigger bill than necessary and as she insists it’s too much, he just shakes his head and continues walking.

We settle at a park bench nearby, tasting all the pieces we’ve bought, “This is genuinely phenomenal.” He says while eating another, “How’d you find this place?”

“Had to write about something local and had total writers block… I was walking around one day and just sort of stumbled upon it.”

He smiles, I really like this smile. “You seem like the type to just stumble upon a strawberry market.”

I laugh, covering my mouth, “What does that even mean?”

“You’re just so…” His hands make these weird gestures, his fingers moving around as he laughs and gives up, “It just fits.”

I smile, meeting his eyes. They're so nice, a mix of blue and green. His gaze washes over me and I feel the need to smile even more.

“You’ve got nice eyes.” My stomach twists as he says it so calmly, “Real pretty.” I feel a blush on my cheeks and I turn away from him, looking at the park near us and being startled by the child looking up at us.

Lando follows my gaze, mumbling softly, “Shit.”

“Hi.” The kid says awestruck, I look to Lando who’s smiling and sitting up straighter. “Um- Are you Lando Norris?”

Lando scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah I am! What's your name?”

“W-William!” He says, swallowing and pulling a pen from behind his back, “Could you sign this?” I glance to what looks like his mother, she’s watching him with a smile.

Lando simply nods and takes the cap from his head, its bright orange. He signs his name and messes up the kid's hair, “Thanks a lot! My friends’ll never believe it!” The boy squeals and runs back to his mom who waves slightly and takes the boy's hand.

I raise a brow at Lando, still confused, “I’m sorry…” He looks embarrassed but I don’t even know what for.

“I’m going to assume you didn’t tell me the whole truth in what your job is?”

His cheeks get a bit red, “I do work with the cars… Just really close. Like I’m in them. One specifically.”

I nod, “Yours?”

“Mine.” He crosses his arms, his lips in a thin line, “I drive for McLaren.” I breathe out.

“Oh.” I can’t help but think I have a type because I grew up with Jenson Button posters on my wall.

He runs a hand through his curls, “I don’t usually get recognized around here- Thought we would be okay.”

“We are okay!” I reassure him, realizing he’s actually embarrassed, “That was sweet.”

He looks up hopefully, “You think? I’m sorry for lying- I just really liked that you didn’t know who I am or what I do.”

“Well, I sort of still don't. I know your full name now, that’s about it.” He smiles at this, I bite into another strawberry.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

He is yet to say something I'm not shocked at.

“Yeah.” I nod, smiling at him as he grins, “I’d really like that. Don’t you have to race soon though…? Singapore, isn’t it?”

The smirk that pulls at his lips is just plain mischievous, “I never said the date would be here.”

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #f1 imagine #lando x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando imagine #f1 fic

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kalinysu · 1 year

Note

💮 Hello, I was wondering if you could do a muzan × reader where they're married, so he's the demon king and she's the queen, and they have been together way before he was a demon, so he turned her. She's also pregnant, and he won't allow her to go on missions anymore. I would like to know if he would keep her by his side or would he lock her in her room. She can also walk in the sun. Please take your time. 💮

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏. — Muzan x F!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Gentle Muzan with slightly harsh words, stubborn reader.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Very cute request! I’ve never written for Muzan and a pregnant wife, so it should be fun. Might rewrite, this was a little lazy 😭

“Darling, please lay down.” Muzan said with a sigh. You two had been going back and forth all night, and you were keeping him quite busy, busy enough to the point he had to ignore his other tasks and focus on you in the moment. “Stop!! Don’t you have any missions for me to do?— I mean, I can’t just lay here for 8 months straight.” You said, trying to sit up and get out of bed.

Muzan kept you away from the other demons, well more specifically Douma. He was far too handsy with you even if you were of a higher status and deserved just as much respect as Muzan. He preferred keeping you locked inside of his room when he couldn’t have you near him, such as when he worked on experiments or had meetings with the ranks. You were too distracting and required every of his attention, which he was willing to give when you two were alone and he wasn’t busy.

“Woman. Lay down, now.” Muzan said, furrowing his brow a bit. His hands were placed on your shoulders, occasionally switching to your waist, trying to be as gentle as possible with you even if his words weren’t. He let out a exhausted sigh, getting into bed with you. He then wrapped his arms around you, holding you just firm enough so you couldn’t get up from the bed. “Missions—“ You said, still trying to free yourself from his grasps. “Darling, I’ve made it clear that i’m not letting you go on any missions while your pregnant, go to sleep.” He said. He was right, besides, you hadn’t slept in days, but you wanted to do something, anything but be in this room.

“Let go—stop it! Stop!”

Muzan eventually had to lock you up inside of your room, not allowing you out at all. He had practically began to neglect you after the first few days of staying by your side. He did bring you human flesh to eat sometimes, and spend short amounts of time with you before going back to his work. If you got into too much trouble while on your own, he’d have Kokushibo or Akaza watch you. And they watched you like a hawk. They treated you as if you were a human, and any minor injury would be treated majorly.

Muzan wanted to be near you, but he just had too much to do. Today though,Muzan had come to check on you while you were asleep. But when you heard the door open, you forced yourself awake. You felt Muzan pull the blankets over your body completely, before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Muzan..?” You mumbled, turning over to look up at him. He gave you a small smile, before getting into bed beside you. “Upper 1 told me you were crying today. What’s wrong?” He asked, and you could barely believe it. You were about to slap him, but he had caught your wrist. He was just about to lecture and scold you, but you had burst out into tears before he could.

He didn’t know that this was also just your hormones affecting your mood, and thought you were just sad. “Darling, come here.” He said, sitting the both of you up and pulling you closer, allowing you to cry into his chest. “Y-you barely ever stay with me anymore!!” You sobbed, gripping his shirt. “My love, you know I have things to do..” He said, gently stroking your head. He was being honest, but there was another reason. He wasn’t sure how to take care of someone he actually cared for who was pregnant, so he resorted to locking you away to keep you safe and away from others.

“My apologies. I’ll take you with me from now on, how’s that sound, hm?” He asked with a smile when you finally calmed down a bit, tilting your head up to look at him. You sniffled, before nodding, wiping away your tears.

#demon slayer #kny #muzan #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan x y/n #muzan x reader #muzan x you

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housecow · 3 months

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it’s so bad but. ruination is one of the hottest parts of feedism for me... i’ve set myself up well so far. i’ve made good decisions that’ve paid off—but i want all of that to mean nothing eventually.

does it even matter that i’m a published academic when i can’t get myself off the couch without help? unread emails from colleagues i haven’t seen in years. inquiries about a database i poured my soul into developing for grad school, unread and untouched for months because i can’t bother to reach over and pull the laptop onto my massive belly. maybe i’d figure out a way to forward them to someone else, removing any potential responsibility. why keep up with those connections when it’s so much easier to keep shoveling food into my mouth?

i can’t wait for all of my accomplishments to pale in comparison with the hundreds of pounds i’ve put on. my world will narrow—my feeder and the piles of food he supplies will be the only things that matter. his careful and strong hands, massaging the rolls and folds he so lovingly made sure were our priority. it started with a simple, “close the laptop and come sit, i got the shake ready”

one day i just won’t open it ever again. the tv remote is right there, my phone is tucked somewhere under the flab. there’s a few pizzas on the way. premade shakes are in the mini fridge next to the couch i fill up almost entirely by myself. my mind is finally blank—no one would expect i was ever more than a useless cow

the occasional trip to the fridge is the most i’d accomplish in a day, maybe even a week. my feeder figures out he can lace the shakes with thc and keep my mind numb, just like i told him i needed. no more documentaries. shitty reality tv keeps me entranced and distracted, thousands of calories devoured each hour. after work he finds me where he left me, surrounded by wrappers and working on a tub of ice cream. “babe, how many has it been?”

can i even count at that point? “i don’t know, can you get me another?” he’d pop it in the microwave first because spoons are getting hard to hold in my pudgy hands. sticky sausage fingers grasp the tub as he hands it to me and he slides onto the couch next to my massive figure.

this is the best part of the day. he rubs my belly in circles, pressing deeply into the soft and dimpled fat as i desperately gulp down the slurry of melted ice cream. he grips a roll and gives it a shake, making me groan a bit—in a good way, it freed up a bit more room. not like i would’ve stopped eating anyways. he shakes his head and tuts: “you still have room?”

i don’t say anything but i smile and lazily look at him, slow and dumb but knowing what that disapproval means. he reaches to the table and pulls the funnel mask out, slipping it over my face. “good girls can barely breathe by the time i get home.”

god, at one point in time people thought i actually had potential. i can’t wait to ruin it all

#is this too much…#feedism.#feeder/feedee #feedee.#hucow.#anyways. akshwjshs #it’s dark i know #death feedism.#writing #feedism writing

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reminiscingtonight · 2 months

Note

pool, drunk, sunglasses Alexia

Cooling Off (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

[WOSO Masterlist]

You’ve been having a fairly great day so far.

Woke up a little bit earlier than normal, but managed to have a cute little breakfast date with your girlfriend. Alexia catered to your every whim, being every bit the doting girlfriend you knew her to be. The two of you barely got through the door frame before your friends were dragging you back out again, so much yet to explore in the city.

Now it’s late afternoon and the lot of you are all lying around the back of the villa. Most of the others are making great use of the pool, but you’ve found your own spot in the sun to work on your tan. Eyes closed, basking in the soothing warmth of the sun, everything would have been perfect… if it wasn’t for the shadow that falls over you in what feels like only a few minutes.

Peeking an eye open, you’re not surprised to see your girlfriend peering over at you.

“Pool time?” Alexia looks a bit sheepish, shuffling on her feet. It’s a question she’s asked no less than three times now, but each time you’ve come up with an excuse why you shouldn’t.

“I just ate.”

“I’ve got a cramp.”

“Oh look! I think Jenni wants your attention.”

Alexia’s an energetic person at heart. If she’s not out practicing on the pitch, she’s running or biking or doing literally anything to burn off her excess energy. Vacation Alexia is no different. She’s already managed to rope you and the other girls out on some sweat-worthy hikes. After the third time she tricked your entire group into joining her for another energy spending outing, you all banned her from planning any more activities for the group.

She whined and pouted and argued away, but you all held firm.

And that’s where the pool comes in. The only upside to having a pool in your rented villa, other than the occasional cooling off of course, is that Alexia has a way to work away her energy while everyone else gets to relax. It’s also a bonus that you have some nice eye-candy to look at while she’s swimming those strokes, but for the most part it helps keep the rest of you sane.

So yeah, maybe you’ve been denying hopping into the pool whenever she asks. You know your girlfriend like the back of your hand, and you’d be a fool not to expect forced laps if you joined her in the water.

“Nope. I’m drunk. Drunk people shouldn’t go into the pool.”

It’s a lie of course.

You both knew how high of a tolerance you have, not to mention the clearly full drink still sitting by your side.

Alexia doesn’t miss your full drink either, narrowing her eyes at you. “Drunk you say?”

You give her your best smile. “Yep. And you know what they say about drunk swimming.”

She raises an eyebrow. “It’s a good way to sober up?”

You roll your eyes, “No, you daft--”

Whatever you’re about to say is caught off in a scream when you’re suddenly hoisted in the air, sunglasses slipping off your head and crashing back down on your chair.

“Alexia! What are you-- Let me go!”

Your girlfriend pretends she can’t hear you, tightening her grip on your body. It doesn’t matter how much you thrash, the muscles she spent hours cultivating in the gym were definitely not just for show.

Everyone else at least has enough mind to swim out of the way when they see Alexia approach the edge of the pool.

“Alexia Putellas I swear to god, if you throw me in--”

“What’s that? Did you say something?” Alexia turns her head side to side, but there’s no mistaking the shit eating grin on her face. “‘Please throw you in?’ Oh well when you give me a request like that.”

“Alexia, don’t you dare!”

---

Safe to say, Alexia spent the night sleeping in the living room.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes #3wp

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peachdues · 10 months

Text

SANEMI V. NO-NUT NOVEMBER

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆ ･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳

In honor of it being Thanksgiving in the US, I thought I would feed you all. Happy Turkey Day, skanks.

CW: MDNI. Explicit sexual content.

Let’s count the ways you’ve tortured him over the last thirty days

You would purposefully wait until he arrived back home at his estate before getting yourself off — in his bed, or in his private bath, so that Sanemi had to watch or feel you working yourself, whimpering his name as you imagined your fingers were his.

You’ve never seen a man wound tighter than Sanemi, coming home after a long night of fighting demons and having to put up with incompetent younger Corps members, who is greeted with the sight of his lover, in his bed, legs spread wide open as she plunges her fingers in and out of her wet and ready core, moaning his name.

You also were fond of trouncing around his estate wearing little clothing — if any. In fact, you were far more fond of wearing nothing but his haori as you cooked for him. Sanemi thought you wouldn’t be able to resist him sidling up behind you and sliding his hands between its open folds to rest on your bare waist. He thought.

As it turned out, you were more than happy to swat away his eager hands and resume chopping vegetables. Sanemi managed to hold in his groan of frustration until you bent over to pick up a stray piece of carrot that escaped the pot.

Not to mention it was his BIRTHDAY on the 29th and you wouldn’t so much as let him eat his favorite cake (your pussy)

“But I’m not the one being pleasured, it’s you,” Sanemi’s voice bordered on a whine as he danced his fingers down the curve of your outer thigh. You swatted his hand away. “Need I remind you that, on more than one occasion, you’ve had to change your clothes after spending time between my legs?” Sanemi’s eyes are nearly bulging out of his head as you primly turn away from him, tightening the blanket around your half-nude form. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me —“ “Goodnight, ‘Nemi. Happy Birthday.”

But when the clock hits 12:01 AM December 1?

“If you think you’re walking out of this not pregnant — or that you’re walking out of here at all —,” he said severely, yanking you by the calves until your ass was pressed against his thighs. “Then you’ve got another thing fuckin’ coming.”

Listen. Sanemi respects the fuck out of women, but you’ve been disrespecting him for the last month. He’s about to get MEAN.

I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that Sanemi is going to need to purchase new furniture by the end of it; shit’s getting smashed by you two. The bed, dressers, tables, you name it, you’re getting fucked on it, and it’s getting broken.

You are being edged to oblivion. If you whine or complain, it only makes the punishment that much worse (so does crying but he actually wants to see those big fat tears). Sanemi breaks up pace consistently to ensure this happens. Also, he’s gonna cum as much as he wants, but you’re not until he says so.

And when he finally, finally lets you cum, don’t you dare think it’s over — now he’s going to overstimulate you until you’re sobbing (again)

“You think you’re done, sweet girl?” His saccharine coos made your stomach curl because you knew that tone meant he was being anything but sweet. “Like hell you are.” Sanemi flipped the pair of you over, forcing you to lay with your back against his chest, your arms pinned behind you. The hand not restraining you slid to your throat, gripping softly and tilting your head back against him as Sanemi began to thrust sharply up into you. “I’ve had to watch you cum around everything but me for the last month, darlin’,” his teeth sank down into the soft flesh between your shoulder and neck. The wince you made at the sharp prick of his teeth was quickly chased away with a few soothing licks and caresses from his deceptively soft lips. “So you’re gonna be my good girl and cum on my cock until I’ve decided you’ve had enough. Understand?”

It gets to the point where you genuinely cannot tell apart the fluids on your skin — sweat, your cum, his cum, or your tears

When he’s finally out of stamina (which is like. days later, RIP you), the last few rounds are much slower, and he’s much softer and clingier. Granted, he’s shooting blanks by then because he’s also overstimulated and exhausted, but he thinks he’s made his point clear enough. He’s actually asking you for just one more, and if you’re crying, he’s quick to kiss the tears away and murmur words of encouragement and love

“Fuck, baby,” Sanemi moaned, his feet digging into the plush of his futon as a means of giving himself leverage to push into you, his thighs and hips having long since lost the ability to work with the same vigor they had when he’d first bent you over. “You feel too fucking good to stop.” You cried out, fists clenching against the painful pleasure your lover continued to bestow upon you. Part of you was desperate for him to stop, to rest, but your body kept betraying you, your legs tightening around his waist to hold him in place. “S-Sanemi,” you whimpered, fingers digging into the ropey muscles of his shoulders, unable to decide whether to pull him closer or push him away. “No m-more — I c-can’t —“ “One more, sweetheart, just one more.” He cooed, bending his face low to brush kiss after kiss against your lips, swallowing your moans and whimpers. Sanemi braced his weight upon his fists, situated on either side of your hips as he continued to rock into you. His pace now was far at odds with the one he’d maintained over the last day or two, with the scar-speckled Wind Pillar forgoing his vicious, unrelenting speed that had you clinging onto the nearest piece of furniture for dear life in favor of something far softer and more gentle. “You can do that for me, right?” Sanemi circled his hips. "Just one more, sweet thing, that's all I ask."

And you give it to him; though there are big, fat tears leaking down your cheeks and though every nerve in your body is screaming for a break, you come apart around him once more. But Sanemi still isn't fully satisfied even though he's a groaning, cursing mess rutting into you, so his thumb works its way between your legs and presses down. Only when a surge of your sticky fluid springs forth and coats his abdomen and groin, does Sanemi finally relax, his own climax rolling into him like a steady wave.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinazugawa #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #kny smut #demon slayer smut #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi smut

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miley1442111 · 5 months

Text

(part 4) wrong choice, wrong move-a.donaldson

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a/n: fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: when you find out about his betrayal and how your relationship truly ends. (dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, allusions to an eating disorder, depression, fainting, cheating, etc. +

PART 4 of 12

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Art was a shell of his former self. His eyes were constantly blood-shot and sunken, he was losing weight, his mindset was fucked, the works. Yet, you seemed perfectly fine. Your tennis had never been better, your grades were excellent, and you were focusing on yourself. Well, you were trying to, it was pretty difficult when Art Donaldson was constantly over your shoulder, wondering when he could apologise and make things right. You two had promised that you’d go no-contact for a few weeks, giving time to allow the fresh cuts to heal over and then you’d be there for each other after. That ‘no-contact’ lasted a day. Then Art was at your door sobbing his eyes out, and you had to let him in.

“I`’m so sorry to show up like this,” he sighed, tears rolling down his cheeks as he rested his head on your chest, his arms holding you close to him as you played with his hair.

“It’s alright Art,” you promised him. You missed him just as much as he missed you but you were hurt. You wanted a change in behaviour, not just some pretty tears and kind words. “Seriously, we promised we’d be there for each other.”

Art let out a choked sob into your chest and you held him tighter. “It's ok, I’m always going to be here for you.”

“I’m so sorry,” he cried into your chest. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, trying to calm him down. “Art you can’t keep doing this to yourself, you have to move on,” you sighed. “I’m not that special.”

His eyes met yours in a disapproving glare as he stood up, pacing your dorm. “You’re so special. You’re so incredibly interesting and smart and driven and I fucking love you! I fucking love you so much that I show up at your dorm room every fucking day looking like a fucking loser and making you comfort me because I fucked up! You’re off doing your own thing, being amazing and I barely do anything anymore! I feel like I can’t breathe when you’re not around, like I can’t think when you’re not there. I need you Y/n. So yes, you’re pretty fucking special to me!”

The room was silent.

“Art, just calm down love,” you sighed, trying to coax him to calm down.

“I’m not calming down. I want you, I want you more than anything-”

“Art that’s not fair,” you snapped. You were angry now. It’s exhausting watching someone be this blind to their own faults. “Art, we broke up because you constantly choose Tashi over me. That’s on you! You need to move on!”

“Have you?!” He shouted back.

“I can’t when you’re clinging to me like a fucking baby!” You shouted. “Go to your friends, not your ex-girlfriend Art! We broke up and maybe yeah, it was your fucking fault but I’ve been really nice trying to not hurt you more because I love you!-”

“Then why are we broken up!?” His voice cracked.

“Because I’m sick of being your second choice!” You screamed.

Art was quiet. He grabbed his jacket from the bed and left your dorm, leaving you to fall apart on your own.

Since Art had felt, your world had grown quieter and quieter, you became more distant to those around you, you were unhappy, you ate less, you trained more, probably too much.

But what else were you supposed to do?

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You showed up to the Challenger ready to win, despite the clear exhaustion you showed with your sunken and dark eyes, horrible posture, and constant yawning.

Art was shocked. He hadn’t seen you in weeks. You were significantly slimmer, you looked awful to be honest, and he knew it was his fault.

You served first, Tashi against you. The serve was good, not your best, but you two were playing real tennis.

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The ball hit the court and the game was over, you’d won, once again. Art and Patrick cheered discreetly from the stands as Tashi smashed her racket in anger. You didn’t even celebrate, just running to the bathroom and into a stall, sitting on the closed seat and passing out.

You were severely damaging yourself. Your entire team knew you were not safe to be playing, but they knew you were at your prime to go pro, so they ignored it. Everyday was like an uphill battle, one that you were losing.

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“Art!” Tashi shouted as Art rambled about how ill you looked. “I don’t fucking care about her form, or how she looked! If she’s ill, how come she beat me?!”

Art stayed silent.

“I cannot believe I fucked you at that party,” Tashi sighed, her head in her hands. You gasped and hid behind the door, stopping your hitting partner from walking into the warm-up court.

Art and Tashi had fucked the night of the party. The party that you and Art were late to because he fucked you before it.

He’d cheated on you.

What?

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You walked into the court, head high in spite of the dizzy feeling in your head.

“Good game, sorry I had to run off earlier, I felt sick,”you explained to Tashi, holding your hand out for her to shake.

"Good game," she grumbled. You caught a glimpse of the horror on Art's face. You'd heard. He was never getting you back, not now, not ever.

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

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#art challengers #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #challengers #zendaya #mike faist #mike faist x reader #josh oconnor #patrick zweig

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milksockets · 11 months

Text

why scan?

scanning is something i've done for probably about 12 years now (i'm ancient, for this site), with varying degrees of regularity, intensity, etc. it has ratcheted up since the dawn of 2023, though, which begs the question: why? why put so much time into what could not-wrongly be considered a passive activity, hunched over a piece of clunky machinery with the express purpose of preserving others' creations? the answers are several, and fascinating (not really).

i am a [sober] drug addict. anything i pursue, consume, create--more often than not--ends up taking on addictive qualities. i'll eat the same specific food item for a month, then never want to see, let alone taste it, again. i'll listen to one song on repeat for days until i'd rather hear nails on a chalkboard than have it shuffle on and assault my ears. one of the reasons that my scanning has increased in volume recently is that i acquired library cards to the 3 nyc library systems: nypl, brooklyn, and queens. as soon as i was able to, i pillaged + plundered those fine centers of learning, leaving any given library with as many hefty scan-worthy books as i could [barely] carry. here, finally, was a *free* way of obtaining more + more + more visual media to consume.

2023 saw me get my first legal, full-time job. as such, my adjusting to that hellish reality resulted in a steep decline in my own personal creative output. collaging, writing, and rapping all fell to the wayside as i slowly acclimated to a life of work that almost everyone else my age has known for over a decade is generally unbearable + detrimental to the maintenance of outside pursuits. in times of famine within my own artistic harvest, scanning, archiving, and sharing others' work is a means of feeling as though i am still contributing to the global oeuvre.

there’s an element of losing my mental self in a series of physical motions that becomes almost automatic after some time. “zoning out” is not something endemic to my daily life; if anything, i’m almost always too zoned in. relief is necessary. especially considering the shitshow this past year has been in terms of my personal life.

i am a product of capitalism’s cultivating a craving for constant consumption.

it seems that visual content is only going to continue to get more + more uninspired. has everything been done? did social media ruin it all? in any case, i feel a need to document the past. to a degree, it’s my version of doomsday prepping. (god forbid books go extinct altogether.)

i have always gravitated towards solitary activities. this topic could be a thesis in its own right.

i thrive on external validation. this reliance is something i’ve improved upon over the past several years, but it hasn’t been altogether extinguished. even though the materials i scan are not of my own creation, i nevertheless feel a vague pride in showcasing them. occasional appreciation thereof satisfies this fixation on others’ attention, albeit in a diluted form.

i am fortunate to live in a city bursting to the gills with cultural institutions. i am also lucky enough to have some disposable income that can be directed toward fulfilling my ravenous desire for visual media.

((i keep getting messages about the specifics of my scanner + "process":

i have a cheap ass hp envy 6055e and i just use the software it comes with.

there's nothing special or fancy happening here, and i could definitely invest in a better and/or a large format scanner, etc. but i really just don't care enough and it's not like i'm getting paid for this lmao))

#words #working girl #me

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xxspringmelodyxx · 29 days

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“𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓉…”

┗━⊱ 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒔𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 ⊰━┛

⊱ 𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔: 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐, 𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐, 𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒎𝒐, 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊 𝑭𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒐, 𝑺𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝑹𝒚𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏 ⊰ wc: 7.0k

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Warnings: Swearing, angst, comfort ⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿✿⋆·˚❀˚·⋆✿

Thank you to another anon for this request! I hope you enjoy! <3333

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Satoru Gojo⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

I sat quietly on the couch, staring at the clock. The day was nearly over, and Satoru still hadn’t mentioned it. My heart ached as I replayed the events of the day in my mind, hoping he would say something—anything—to acknowledge my birthday. But he didn’t. Instead, he went about his usual routine, too busy with his own life to notice how much today meant to me.

When Satoru finally walked into the room, I could barely look at him. Anger, hurt, and disappointment swirled within me. How could he forget? After everything we’ve been through together, how could he overlook something as important as my birthday?

“Hey, baby,” he greeted me with his usual bright smile. “I’m starved. Let’s get something to eat.”

I forced a smile, trying to mask the hurt that was clawing at my chest. “Sure. You go ahead and pick something.”

As we sat at the table later that evening, Satoru was his usual carefree self, talking about his day, his work, and everything else that crossed his mind. But I could barely hear him over the thoughts racing in my head. The man I loved had forgotten my birthday—the one day I had hoped would be special.

That night, as Satoru slept soundly beside me, I lay awake, formulating a plan. If he could forget my birthday, maybe he deserved a taste of his own medicine. Maybe then he’d understand just how much it hurt.

---

A few weeks later, it was Satoru’s birthday. I woke up early, just as I always did, and went about my morning routine. I made breakfast for myself, not bothering to prepare anything for him, and left for work without so much as a “Happy Birthday.”

The entire day, I ignored his texts, his calls, everything. I knew he was probably confused, maybe even hurt, but I didn’t care. Not yet, anyway. This was his punishment.

When I finally returned home that evening, I found Satoru sitting on the couch, a forlorn expression on his face. He didn’t even greet me as I walked in, which was unusual for him.

“baby,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Did I… do something wrong?”

I glanced at him, feigning indifference. “Why would you ask that?”

“It’s my birthday,” he said, his eyes searching mine for some sign of affection. “But… you haven’t said anything. You’ve been distant all day.”

I looked away, the memory of my own forgotten birthday fresh in my mind. “Maybe I just didn’t think it was that important.”

His face fell, and I could see the hurt in his eyes. A pang of guilt tugged at my heart, but I pushed it aside. This was what he deserved. He needed to understand.

“I’m sorry, Satoru,” I said, my voice colder than I intended. “But you didn’t think my birthday was important enough to remember, so why should I care about yours?”

His eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “baby… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to forget. I’ve been so caught up with work, but that’s no excuse. I know I hurt you.”

I turned away from him, not wanting to let him see how much his words affected me. “I just wanted you to understand how it felt. To know what it’s like to be forgotten by the person you care about the most.”

Satoru didn’t say anything for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost broken. “I do understand. And I’ll spend every day making it up to you. Just… please don’t shut me out like this. I don’t want to lose you.”

My resolve weakened. I had hurt him, just as he had hurt me, but the satisfaction I thought I would feel wasn’t there. Instead, all I felt was a deep sadness.

“Come with me,” I said quietly, taking his hand and leading him outside.

We walked in silence to a small clearing in the nearby park. The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the area. I had prepared a simple picnic, just some of Satoru’s favorite foods and a blanket to sit on.

“I didn’t forget your birthday,” I finally admitted, my voice soft. “I just wanted you to know how much it hurt when you forgot mine.”

He looked at the picnic and then at me, his eyes filled with emotion. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling me into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I returned his embrace. “I know you are. And I forgive you. But you need to understand that it’s not just about the birthday. It’s about making time for each other, about showing that you care, even when life gets busy.”

Satoru nodded, his voice thick with emotion. “I promise I’ll do better. I never want to make you feel like that again.”

We sat together in the fading light, sharing the simple meal I had prepared. There was no need for grand gestures or expensive gifts. All that mattered was that we were together and that we had both learned something valuable.

As the stars began to appear in the night sky, Satoru took my hand in his, squeezing it gently. “Thank you for this,” he said softly. “And happy belated birthday, baby.”

I smiled through my tears, leaning into him. “Happy birthday, Satoru.”

And as we sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, I knew that this was a moment we would never forget.

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Suguru Geto⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

The day had started like any other. I woke up to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, the sound of birds chirping outside. I turned over in bed, expecting to feel Suguru’s warmth beside me, but the space was empty. He must have gotten up early, probably to meditate or attend to his responsibilities.

As I got ready for the day, I found myself checking my phone more often than usual. Every time it buzzed, my heart would leap, only to be disappointed by a random notification or message that wasn’t from him. The hours passed, and still nothing. Not a single mention of my birthday.

I tried to push the thoughts away, convincing myself that he was just busy. Suguru always had a lot on his plate, and I didn’t want to be a burden. But as the day wore on, that familiar ache in my chest grew stronger. How could he forget?

It wasn’t until late afternoon when I heard the excited footsteps of Nanako and Mimiko running through the house. They burst into the room, their faces bright with smiles.

“Happy Birthday, mama!” Nanako exclaimed, throwing her arms around me.

“We made you something!” Mimiko added, holding out a small, hand-drawn card filled with colorful hearts and stars.

I smiled, my heart warming at their thoughtfulness. “Thank you, girls. This means so much to me.”

But the warmth quickly faded as reality hit me. They remembered, but Suguru hadn’t. The girls must have noticed the change in my expression because they exchanged worried glances.

“Did… did Suguru say anything?” Nanako asked cautiously.

I shook my head, forcing a smile. “He’s been busy. It’s okay.”

Mimiko frowned, clearly upset. “But it’s your birthday! He’s supposed to know that!”

“It’s not fair,” Nanako agreed, crossing her arms. “He should be here celebrating with you.”

I tried to reassure them, not wanting to dampen their spirits. “It’s fine, really. Sometimes people forget.”

But as I said it, I knew it wasn’t fine. Not really. And I could see that the girls weren’t convinced either.

---

By evening, I had given up on hoping. I found Suguru in the garden, sitting under the large oak tree, his eyes closed in quiet contemplation. He looked peaceful, almost ethereal, as if the worries of the world couldn’t touch him. But I couldn’t share in that peace. Not today.

“Hey,” I called out softly as I approached.

Suguru opened his eyes and smiled up at me. “Hey, you. Come join me.”

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside him. We sat in silence for a while, the only sounds around us being the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the city.

“I was thinking we could do something tonight,” he said eventually, turning to me with a gentle expression. “Maybe grab dinner, take a walk, or just stay in and watch something. What do you think?”

My heart sank. Even now, he didn’t realize what today was. “Sure,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “Whatever you want.”

Suguru reached out and took my hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “Are you okay? You seem a little… distant.”

Before I could respond, Nanako and Mimiko came rushing into the garden, their expressions a mix of disbelief and frustration.

“Suguru!” Nanako exclaimed, her hands on her hips. “How could you forget Y/N’s birthday?”

Mimiko nodded vigorously, her eyes wide. “We remembered, and we’re just kids!”

Suguru’s eyes widened as the color drained from his face. He looked at me, then back at the girls. “What…? No, I didn’t forget…”

But the truth was written all over his face. He had forgotten.

“Suguru,” I said quietly, pulling my hand from his. “It’s okay. I understand that you’ve been busy.”

“No, it’s not okay,” Nanako insisted, glaring at Suguru. “You need to make this right!”

Suguru looked utterly lost, his usual calm demeanor shattered. “Y/N… I’m so sorry. I’ve been so caught up in everything else, but that’s no excuse. I can’t believe I forgot.”

The girls stood there, arms crossed, waiting for his next move. I could tell they were upset, not just for me, but because they looked up to Suguru so much. He was their protector, their guide—and he had let us all down.

I took a deep breath, feeling the hurt begin to ebb into something more manageable. “Suguru… maybe you should talk to the girls for a bit. I’m going to go for a walk.”

---

The days that followed were a blur of awkward silence and half-hearted attempts at reconciliation. Suguru apologized repeatedly, but something between us had shifted. We still lived together, went through the motions, but it felt different. The warmth, the easy laughter—it all seemed distant.

I could tell he was trying. He left me small gifts, little notes apologizing again, and gestures meant to make up for his forgetfulness, but I wasn’t ready to forgive so easily. Every time I looked at him, I couldn’t help but remember the hurt I felt on my birthday, the sting of being forgotten by the person I loved most.

Instead of dwelling on the pain, I began working on something special. Each time I withdrew from him, it was because I was spending hours in my little crafting corner, crocheting. I decided to create something that would remind him of what mattered most—something that would mean more than words ever could.

I crocheted tiny versions of us: Suguru, me, the girls, and even his beloved dragon. Each doll took hours of painstaking work, and every stitch was filled with the love I still held for him, despite the distance between us. As the days passed and his birthday drew nearer, I worked in secret, pouring my heart into the project.

On the morning of his birthday, I acted as if it were just another day. I made breakfast, but didn’t acknowledge the significance of the date. Suguru watched me, his eyes filled with hope that today would be different, but I remained distant, giving him only short, polite answers to his attempts at conversation.

As the day went on, I could see the realization dawning on him. I wasn’t going to acknowledge his birthday. He tried to mask his disappointment, but it was clear in the way his shoulders slumped, in the way he avoided meeting my gaze.

By evening, Suguru seemed to have given up. He sat on the couch, staring blankly at the television, but not really watching it. The once lively atmosphere in our home had turned somber, filled with unspoken words and lingering tension.

I felt a pang of guilt. This wasn’t how I wanted things to be. I had wanted him to understand, but now I was only adding to the pain. Taking a deep breath, I decided it was time to make things right.

---

“Suguru,” I said softly, approaching him where he sat. He looked up at me, his eyes tired and filled with a mix of emotions—confusion, sadness, and a glimmer of hope.

I began, pulling out a small box. I opened it to reveal the tiny crocheted dolls, each one representing him, me, the girls, and his dragon. His eyes widened in surprise, his breath catching as he took in the sight.

“I didn’t forget your birthday,” I continued, my voice trembling slightly. “Every time I ignored you, I was working on this. I wanted you to have something that would remind you of what’s important—of us, of the family we’ve built.”

Suguru stared at the dolls, his fingers gently brushing over the tiny figures. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked back at me. “Y/N… this is… I don’t even have words. Thank you.”

Before I could say more, I signaled to the girls, who had been hiding nearby. They came out, beaming, carrying a small cake with candles lit. As they started singing "Happy Birthday," Suguru’s face broke into a wide, emotional smile.

The girls’ voices were filled with joy, and as they sang, I could see the weight lifting from Suguru’s shoulders. When they finished, he blew out the candles, and the girls cheered, wrapping their arms around him in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” Suguru whispered to me as the girls giggled and clung to him. “I’m sorry for everything.”

I leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I know, Suguru. I forgive you. Don’t do it again though, or else I’ll never make you crocheted stuff again!” I joke

He nodded, his eyes still misty. “I promise, my dear. I’ll do better. I never want to make you feel like that again.”

As we sat together, sharing the cake and enjoying the night, I felt a sense of peace settle over us. The tension had lifted, replaced by the warmth

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Kento Nanami⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

The day Nanami forgot my birthday, I felt the hurt sink deep into my chest, but I didn’t let it show. I had spent the entire day waiting, hoping he would remember—waiting for a text, a call, something to acknowledge the day. But as the hours passed, it became clear that he wasn’t going to.

When he finally got home late that night, he looked exhausted, his usual composed demeanor weighed down by the day’s work. He walked in with a tired smile, greeted me with a kiss on the forehead, and headed straight for the shower without a single mention of my birthday. Not even a glance at the beautifully set table I had prepared or the dinner that was now cold and untouched.

I swallowed the hurt, forcing a smile when he emerged from the shower. I knew that if he didn’t care enough to remember, I wasn’t going to remind him. Instead, I decided I would give him a taste of his own medicine.

The days turned into weeks, and I carried on as if nothing was wrong. I acted like the perfect partner, hiding my disappointment behind a veil of normalcy. I waited patiently, knowing that Nanami’s birthday was approaching, and I had every intention of “accidentally” forgetting it.

When his birthday finally arrived, I made sure to play my part flawlessly. I woke up early, just like any other day, and went about my routine without acknowledging the significance of the date. Nanami, ever the observant one, noticed the lack of celebration. He glanced at me throughout the day, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and disappointment, but he never said a word.

By the time evening rolled around, I could see the weight of the day pressing down on him. But instead of confronting the silence, Nanami buried himself in paperwork, his brow furrowed in concentration. It was clear he was using work as a distraction, trying to avoid the painful realization that I hadn’t acknowledged his birthday.

He sat at the dining table, papers spread out before him, the soft scratching of his pen the only sound in the room. Every so often, he would glance at the empty space where I usually sat, but I stayed in the kitchen, letting the silence speak for itself.

As the night grew late, I knew the lesson had been learned. Nanami’s shoulders were tense, his movements growing slower as the exhaustion and disappointment weighed on him. He looked up as I approached, his eyes weary, filled with a quiet hurt.

“I’m going to the kitchen to grab something,” I said casually, as if the day had been completely ordinary.

He nodded absently, his focus returning to the papers in front of him, though I could see the conflict in his eyes. He was trying to push through the pain, to keep working, but the disappointment was too heavy to ignore.

A few minutes later, I returned with a small cake in one hand and a neatly wrapped gift in the other. Nanami looked up, his pen still in hand, and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw what I was holding.

“Happy Birthday, Kento,” I said softly, placing the cake on the table beside his paperwork.

His expression was a mixture of guilt and relief as he slowly put down his pen. “You… you didn’t forget?”

I shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips. “No, I didn’t forget. But I wanted you to feel what I felt.”

He stared at the cake and the gift for a long moment before finally meeting my eyes as he was hit with realization. His voice thick with emotion. “I’m…im sorry, honey. I’m so sorry for forgetting yours.”

I sighed, sitting down beside him. “It wasn’t just about forgetting the date, Kento. It’s about feeling like I don’t matter enough to be remembered. That hurts more than anything.”

Nanami reached out and took my hand, his grip firm but gentle. “You do matter. More than anything. I’ve been so consumed with work that I lost sight of what’s truly important. I’ll never let that happen again.”

I smiled, leaning into him as I spoke. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

As we shared the cake and he opened the simple, meaningful gift I had prepared—a reminder of our time together—I could see the relief and determination in his eyes. The tension that had built up over the past few weeks began to dissolve, replaced by a renewed sense of connection between us.

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Choso Kamo⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

It was already midday, and I hadn’t heard a word from Choso. The hours had slipped by with no messages, no calls—nothing to indicate that he remembered what today was. My heart sank a little more with each passing minute, but I tried to push the thoughts away, convincing myself that he was probably busy.

I picked up my phone, deciding to reach out to him instead. Maybe he was planning something and just hadn’t had the chance to text yet.

“Hey, what are you up to today?” I typed, hoping for some sign that he hadn’t completely forgotten.

A few minutes later, his reply came through: “Hanging out with Yuuji! We’re at the arcade right now, having a blast. How about you?”

I stared at the screen, the pit in my stomach growing heavier. He was at the arcade, completely engrossed in his day with Yuuji. And he hadn’t even asked about mine.

“Glad you’re having fun. I’m just relaxing at home,” I replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of my words. I didn’t add anything else, not wanting to come off as passive-aggressive. But it hurt—there was no denying that.

The rest of the day passed slowly. I tried to distract myself with chores, reading, anything to take my mind off the fact that Choso had forgotten. But nothing really worked. The disappointment lingered, gnawing at me with every hour that passed.

By the time evening rolled around, I had resigned myself to the fact that Choso wasn’t going to remember. I decided not to cook anything special; instead, I settled for leftovers from the night before. I sat at the table, eating alone, the quiet of the apartment only amplifying the ache in my chest.

It was well into the night when I finally heard the door open. Choso walked in, his face lit up with a smile as he kicked off his shoes. “Baby, you should’ve come with us! Yuuji and I had the best time today,” he said, his voice full of enthusiasm as he headed toward the kitchen where I was tidying up.

I glanced over my shoulder at him, forcing a smile. “Sounds like you had a great day.”

He nodded, oblivious to my strained tone. “Yeah, we did! We hit up the arcade, grabbed some ramen, and then just wandered around for a bit. I haven’t had a day like this in a long time.”

I turned back to the sink, scrubbing a plate a little harder than necessary. “I’m glad you had fun.”

Choso’s smile faltered as he noticed the tension in my shoulders. He walked over to me, placing a hand on my arm. “Hey… are you okay?”

I shrugged, not trusting myself to speak just yet. I could feel his eyes on me, searching for answers that I wasn’t ready to give.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with concern.

I set the plate down and turned to face him, meeting his gaze head-on. “Choso, do you know what today is?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. “Today? Uh… it’s Saturday?”

I sighed, the hurt in my chest expanding. “It’s my birthday, Choso.”

His eyes widened, and the color drained from his face as the realization hit him. “Oh, no…baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t… I was so caught up with Yuuji that I didn’t even think—”

“You didn’t think,” I repeated, my voice trembling. “You spent the entire day with Yuuji, having fun, while I sat here waiting for you to remember. But you didn’t.”

Choso’s face crumpled with guilt, and he stepped closer, his hands reaching for mine. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I forgot your birthday. I didn’t mean to—”

I pulled away, shaking my head. “It’s like I’m not important enough to be remembered. Like I come second.”

His shoulders sagged, and he looked down at the floor, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not second, baby. You’re everything to me. I just… I messed up. I’m sorry.”

I watched him, my heart heavy with the weight of the day. I knew he hadn’t meant to hurt me, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear. “I needed you today, Choso. I needed you to remember.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. And I’ll spend every day making it up to you. I promise.”

For a long moment, we stood there in silence, the words hanging between us. Finally, I sighed, letting some of the tension slip away. “It’s okay,” I said quietly. “But next time, don’t forget.”

Choso looked up at me, his eyes filled with remorse. “I won’t. I promise.”

He pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly as if afraid to let go. I leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace soothe some of the hurt. It would take time to fully move past the disappointment, but I knew that we would get there. After all, love isn’t about never making mistakes—it’s about learning from them and growing together.

A few months passed, and Choso’s birthday was just around the corner. Despite his promises to make it up to me, the hurt from my birthday still lingered in the back of my mind. I decided that maybe it was time for him to experience what it felt like to be forgotten—just for a little while.

When his birthday arrived, I played my part perfectly. I woke up early, just like any other day, and went about my routine without acknowledging the significance of the date. Choso seemed puzzled, his eyes flicking toward me with an unspoken question as the morning passed in silence.

Instead of spending the day with him, I made plans to hang out with Shoko. “I’m going out for a bit,” I said casually, grabbing my bag and heading for the door. “Don’t wait up.”

Choso looked at me, his confusion deepening. “Wait, where are you going? It’s—”

“Just meeting Shoko for lunch,” I cut in, my tone light. “I’ll be back later.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond before I left, closing the door behind me. As I walked to meet Shoko, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. He had no idea what was coming.

Shoko and I spent the day gathering everyone together at the park, making sure everything was set up perfectly for Choso’s surprise party. The weather was perfect—a clear, sunny day with just enough breeze to keep things comfortable. We set up tables under the shade of the trees, decorated with lights and streamers, and laid out blankets on the grass for everyone to sit on.

It was hard to keep the secret, especially when I received a few texts from Choso throughout the day, asking what I was up to and if I was planning anything. I kept my replies vague, letting him stew in the uncertainty.

By evening, the preparations were complete. The park was filled with our friends, all smiling and laughing as they waited for the guest of honor. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, with the smell of grilled food wafting through the air and the sound of children playing in the distance.

I texted Choso one last time, telling him I was on my way back and that I needed him to meet me at the park. He responded quickly, his messages a mix of curiosity and confusion.

When he arrived at the park, he looked around, clearly unsure of what was happening. I walked up to him with a smile, taking his hand and leading him toward the gathering.

As we approached, everyone jumped out from their hiding spots, shouting, “Surprise!”

Choso froze, his eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. The park was filled with our friends, all smiling and cheering, the tables laden with food and a cake in the center. Shoko was grinning from ear to ear, clearly enjoying the look of shock on Choso’s face.

“You… you planned all this?” Choso asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

I nodded, unable to suppress my smile. “Happy Birthday, Cho~”

For a moment, he just stood there, staring at me with a mix of awe and guilt. Then, without warning, he pulled me into a tight embrace, holding me as if he never wanted to let go.

“I thought… I thought you forgot,” he whispered against my hair, his voice trembling slightly.

I pulled back just enough to look up at him, my smile softening. “I wanted you to know what it felt like. But I would never forget your birthday, Choso.”

He looked at me, his eyes filled with emotion. “I’m sorry for what happened on your birthday. I’ll never take you for granted again.”

I leaned up to kiss him gently, letting the warmth of his words sink in. “I know you won’t. Now, let’s enjoy your party.”

As we joined our friends in the park and celebrated his birthday, the lingering hurt from my own began to fade away. Choso had learned his lesson, and I knew that our bond was stronger for it. After all, love is about forgiveness, understanding, and sometimes, a little playful revenge.

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Toji Fushiguro⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

It was late, the darkness outside the window deepening with each passing minute. The apartment was quiet, save for the distant hum of city life. I sat at the dining table, staring at the cold meal I had prepared hours earlier. The candles had long since burned out, leaving only wisps of smoke and the scent of wax lingering in the air.

Toji was supposed to be home by now. He had left early in the morning for a mission, one of those jobs that could go on indefinitely. I knew how these missions worked—time blurred when he was out there, his focus entirely on the task at hand. But today, of all days, I had hoped he would remember to come home.

As the hours stretched into the night, I finally realized that he wasn’t coming back—not in time to celebrate my birthday, at least. There had been no message, no call, not even a sign that he remembered. The weight of disappointment settled over me like a heavy blanket, and I couldn’t shake it off.

I cleared the table quietly, putting away the untouched food. My movements were slow, almost mechanical, as if any sudden motion might crack the fragile calm I was trying to maintain. I blew out the last candle and headed to bed, my heart heavy with the realization that Toji had forgotten.

When I crawled into bed, the sheets were cold, and the emptiness beside me felt like a void I couldn’t fill. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, replaying the day in my mind. It hurt more than I wanted to admit, but I wasn’t one to dwell on things I couldn’t change.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of the front door creaking open. Toji’s footsteps were heavy, and I could hear the rustle of his clothes as he dropped his gear by the door. He was back, finally.

I stayed in bed, listening as he moved through the apartment, his footsteps hesitant as he approached the bedroom. The door creaked open, and I felt him pause in the doorway.

“You awake?” His voice was low, cautious.

I turned over, meeting his gaze. He looked tired, his clothes rumpled and his eyes slightly red. I nodded, sitting up slowly. “Yeah, I’m awake.”

He came closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back sooner. The mission…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“It’s fine,” I replied, my voice steady but distant. “You’re home now.”

Toji studied my face, his brows knitting together in concern. “Did something happen?”

I shook my head, forcing a small smile. “No. Nothing happened.”

He frowned, clearly picking up on the underlying tension. “You sure? You seem… off.”

I didn’t reply immediately, letting the silence stretch between us. Finally, I looked him in the eye. “It was my birthday yesterday.”

Toji blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to realization. He ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I completely forgot.”

I nodded, looking down at my hands. “I know. You were busy.”

He reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to forget. You know that, right? I just… I get so caught up in this stuff, and time slips away.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “But it still hurt.”

Toji’s grip tightened slightly, his face clouded with guilt. “I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”

I met his gaze, my voice calm but firm. “I just…sometimes you need to understand that there are more important things than work. I am grateful for you working, but I’m even more grateful when you spend time with me.”

He nodded slowly, absorbing my words. “You’re right. I’ll do better. I promise.”

The week passed quickly, and soon it was the night before Toji’s birthday. He hadn’t mentioned it once, likely feeling guilty about what had happened on mine. But I had a plan, one that would show him I wasn’t holding a grudge, even if I had been hurt.

On the day of his birthday, Toji left for another short mission, unaware of what I had in store. I spent the day preparing, making sure everything was perfect. I arranged a quiet dinner at a small, secluded cabin outside the city—a place where we could escape from everything and just focus on each other.

—

When he returned that evening, he was not met with your wonderful kisses, or the beautiful sounds of your voice or laughter. It was just empty. Were you ignoring him?

He felt a pang in his chest. He didn’t realize how badly it would impact him to be alone on his birthday. It reminded him of old times.

“Doll? You here?” He asked, his voice filled with desperation. But all he heard was the sounds of the lights buzzing.

He slumped over, feeling his heart ache. Now he knew how you felt, and it was awful. He hated the feeling, but he knew he deserved it. Its all he deserved…

As Toji walked further into your shared home, he found a note on the table with instructions to meet you at the cabin.

You had arranged for a car to take him there, knowing he would be too tired to drive himself.

—

When Toji arrived at the cabin, the sun had just dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The cabin was lit warmly from the inside, a soft glow spilling out onto the porch.

He stepped inside cautiously, calling out my name. “Baby?”

I appeared from the kitchen, smiling softly as I wiped my hands on a towel. “Happy Birthday, Toji.”

His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of the cozy, candle-lit cabin, the table set with a simple but delicious-looking meal. He looked at me, his expression a mix of surprise and gratitude.

“You did all this… for me?” he asked, his voice low.

I nodded, walking over to him. “I did. I wanted to do something special, just for us.”

He reached out, pulling me into his arms, his embrace tight and warm. “I thought… after what happened on your birthday… I didn’t think you’d want to do anything.”

I pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “I was hurt, Toji. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I wanted to show you that we can still make time for each other, even when things get tough.”

He nodded, his expression softening as he leaned down to kiss me gently. “Thank you, doll. I needed this. I needed you.”

We spent the evening together, just the two of us, away from the chaos of his work and the pressures of everyday life. As we sat by the fire later that night, Toji pulled me close, his voice soft and sincere.

“I’ll do better,” he promised. “I won’t let work come between us again.”

I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of the fire and the steady beat of his heart. “We’ll be okay, Toji. As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay.”

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Sukuna Ryomen⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

Sukuna was never one to dwell on sentimentality. His world was one of power, control, and dominance. He wasn’t one to coddle or concern himself with trivial matters like birthdays. I knew this about him from the beginning, yet, somehow, a part of me hoped that he would remember—just this once.

The day passed quietly. Sukuna was his usual self—intense, brooding, and wholly consumed by his own thoughts. We spent the day in the manor, a place that felt more like a fortress than a home. The dark halls echoed with silence, the air thick with an unspoken tension.

I had learned long ago not to expect much from Sukuna when it came to displays of affection. But today, of all days, I had hoped for something different. A simple acknowledgment, a word, anything that showed he remembered.

But as the hours slipped by, it became clear that he didn’t. There were no subtle glances, no lingering touches, nothing to suggest that today held any significance for him. The weight of disappointment settled over me like a shadow, growing heavier with each passing minute.

By evening, I had resigned myself to the reality of the situation. Sukuna, the King of Curses, had forgotten my birthday. It shouldn’t have surprised me, yet the sting was still sharp.

I found him in the grand hall, seated on his throne-like chair, lost in thought. His eyes were half-lidded, his expression unreadable as he gazed out into the darkness beyond the windows.

I approached him quietly, my footsteps barely making a sound on the cold stone floor. “Sukuna,” I called out softly, my voice almost lost in the vastness of the hall.

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze slowly shifting to me as if I were an afterthought. “What is it?” he asked, his tone indifferent.

I hesitated for a moment, searching his eyes for any sign of recognition, but there was none. I forced a small smile, trying to hide the disappointment that threatened to spill over. “Nothing. I just wanted to say goodnight.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the change in my demeanor. “Goodnight? Already?”

“Yes,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

He didn’t question me further, simply nodding as he turned his gaze back to the darkness. “Very well.”

I turned and walked away, my heart heavy with unspoken words. As I made my way to the bedroom, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being forgotten, of being insignificant in the eyes of the man I loved.

The next morning, I woke early, my mind already working on what I needed to do. Sukuna’s birthday was in a few days, and while I had initially planned something special, the hurt from yesterday still lingered. I decided to change my approach—he needed to understand what it felt like to be overlooked.

For the next few days, I continued my usual routine, but I was distant. I didn’t linger in the halls where he might pass, didn’t seek him out for our usual conversations. I kept to myself, letting the silence stretch between us.

Sukuna, in his usual manner, didn’t comment on the change. He was too proud, too detached to ask why I was being distant. But I could see the flicker of curiosity in his eyes whenever we crossed paths, the subtle tightening of his jaw when I didn’t engage with him as I normally would.

The day of Sukuna’s birthday arrived, and I played my part perfectly. I went about my tasks as if it were just another day, not once acknowledging the date. I didn’t greet him in the morning, didn’t prepare anything special. I simply acted as if it held no importance at all.

As the hours passed, I could feel the tension growing. Sukuna wasn’t one to show vulnerability, but I knew him well enough to sense the shift in his demeanor. By the time evening rolled around, the air was thick with unspoken words.

I found him in the same grand hall, seated in his usual spot. His gaze was sharper this time, his expression more focused as I approached.

“My pet,” he called out as I entered, his voice carrying a subtle edge.

I paused, meeting his gaze with a calm expression. “Yes?”

He studied me for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I’ve been busy.”

“With what?” he demanded, his tone growing sharper.

I raised an eyebrow, tilting my head slightly. “Does it matter?”

His eyes flashed with irritation, and he stood, closing the distance between us in a few quick strides. “You’re hiding something,” he accused, his voice low and dangerous.

I met his gaze evenly, refusing to back down. “Am I?”

His grip on my arm tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to show that he wasn’t pleased. “Yes. You are.”

I sighed softly, letting the silence stretch between us for a moment before finally speaking. “It’s your birthday, Sukuna.”

His eyes widened slightly, the only indication that he was surprised. “You remembered?”

“Of course I did,” I replied, my voice steady. “But you didn’t remember mine.”

Sukuna’s expression darkened, his grip on my arm loosening as he processed my words. For a moment, there was only silence between us, the weight of my statement hanging heavily in the air.

“I…” he began, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

“You forgot,” I continued, my voice soft but firm. “You didn’t even realize what day it was.”

He stared at me, the realization sinking in. For the first time, I saw something flicker in his eyes—regret, perhaps, or guilt. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

“I didn’t mean to,” he finally said, his voice quieter than usual.

“I know,” I replied, my tone softening. “But it still hurt.”

Sukuna let out a slow breath, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m not good at… these things.”

I stepped closer, placing a hand on his chest. “I don’t need grand gestures, Sukuna. I just need to know that I matter to you.”

He looked down at me, his expression unreadable for a moment before he finally nodded. “You do. More than you know.”

I smiled slightly, feeling the tension begin to ease. “Then show me. Don’t just say it.”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding again, more firmly this time. “I will.”

That evening, we didn’t have a grand celebration, but we did spend it together. Sukuna, true to his word, made an effort to show me that I mattered. It wasn’t in the form of gifts or elaborate displays of affection—those weren’t his style. But he stayed close, his presence a silent acknowledgment of the mistake he had made.

And as we sat together in the quiet of the night, I realized that, despite his flaws and his pride, Sukuna was capable of learning, of growing. It would take time, but I was willing to be patient. Because love, especially with someone like Sukuna, wasn’t about perfection. It was about understanding, forgiveness, and the small moments where we could find common ground.

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paigebueckersmommy · 6 months

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not tonight.. but - p.b

dom paige turned sub x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, p eating, literally pure filth

you and paige had been dating for 11 months, your one year approaching in 3 weeks. paige had told you to sit back and relax as she did all the planing and work. she was that way in most areas, especially in bed. paige loved being in control, hearing your pleasure while moaning her name, it was her favorite thing. you had just started your period two days ago, and paige had called you about an hour ago to ask if she could come over. you of course said yes, and with you being on your period you wanted to treat paige to a suprise, knowing that she deserved it since she was always in control by her own choice.

you heard her keys jingle in the door and ran from your bedroom to the door of your apartment to greet her. she opended the door, wearing a white nike sports bra under her gray zip up and black sweatpants, her average outfit. “hi ma i’ve missed you so much,” paige says already touching on you, touching your bare collarbone since you were wearing a tube top. she pushes you against the wall kissing you as her thumb slips under the waistband of your sweatpants. right after she does that, “baby i’m on my period.” you say, seeing the disappointed look on her face you follow up with, “but you know how hard you’ve been working lately,” you say touching her neck and brushing your hands against her clothes abs. “i’m just so proud of you, y’know that right baby?” you say in a needy ton, looking up at her as you are just 5’3 and paige stands before you in her 5’11 glory, with the added height from her tennis shoes.

“oh, my submissive princess is gonna fuck me?” paige says looking down at you with a smirk. “hell yea.” you say , hands around her waist leading her to your couch, she sits down as you lap her, kissing her passionate ad your hands cup your face as her hands fall to your ass. still kissing her perfect lips, you tug at her shirt and start to pull it off her. once it’s off, you pull away from her face stroking the strap of her sports bra you say, “baby can you take this off for me?” paige licks her lip then chokes out, “anything for you,” with a giggle. you slightly lift yourself off her, still straddling her and you lower her sweatpants and her panties coming with. once they’re fully off, you start to lick her nipples, earning a gasp from her followed with multiple heavy breathes out.

you lick down her abs, and lower your slef to her thighs. you kiss her upper and inner thigh. “ma please,” paige says, breathing heavy. “please what, P? use your words sweetheart.” paige moans out, “y-your mouth please,” you smirk, you had never seen paige so submissive, you loved it. you starting flicking your toung over your her clit, earning many desperate moans from paige. you brought your fingers up and down her folds, using her wetness to make it easier to slip two fingers into her sopping cunt, earnings loud and breathy moan from paige. “holy shit holy shit fuckkkk, i- i don’t know if i can last baby” paige choked out in between breathy moans.

paige tasted so good, and when she melted under you in orgasm she tasted even better. “fuck fuck holy fuck” paige said, still catching her breath. you pumped your fingers into her thrice more before taking them out and straight into your mouth as you didn’t want any juices to fall off your fingers. you kept eye contact with her the entire time. “holy fuck.” paige breathed out once again, you had loved every second of that. “baby i might have to take that role more often.” you said with a smirk after plopping down next to her on the couch still keeping eye contact with her as you kept eye contact with paige still. “y’know i definetly agree, baby u did so good.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #paige buckets #uconn huskies #Spotify

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seungfl0wer · 3 months

Text

*I’ll do anything*

Part Title: Devils Helping Hand

Genre: Angst/Smut/Fluff?

Paring: Minho x Reader (Fem)

Warnings: Mafia!Au, Mentions of death, Sick sibling, Mentions of being shot, also mentions of being Minhos slave, slight blood mention

This will be a small series. For my 🔪 anon, they have a beautiful brain and now I’m obsessed with the thought of Mafia boss Minho 😪 (Their request/thoughts Here and Here) also side note this is the first series of writings I’ve done in a long while so please bare with me and my ramblings.

Series Master List

-🩵

You prepared for this for weeks, wanting it to go right because it meant everything if you could pull it off. Staring at the building knowing there was people in there willing to shoot you on sight. But none of that mattered if you could pull it off. Your brother has been getting worse and worse. He’s been in the hospital for the past month battling his illness but nothing seems to be helping. There’s a new treatment they want to try however it’s expensive. The insurance can only cover so much of it and the rest is up to you.

You’ve been working your ass off 2 jobs, barely eating to save money and your sleep schedule? People slept? You sighed loudly watching as people got into their car to leave. You’ve been scoping out the schedules of them seeing when they leave how long they stay how many go in and out. It was gonna work. It had to work. You find the window that’s been open for the past 3 days slinking your body through it. Bingo. The room was close to the one you needed. You peaked out the door quickly checking the surroundings before bolting to the room beside.

The door was locked but you learned how to pick a lock just for this. You worked your janky skills as you heard voices down the hall. Heart races as you quickly tried the lock and then it clicked. You were in! You hurriedly got into the room so know one could see. One thing that was very odd to you was there was no cameras. You even had a mask you were gonna wear but realizing there wasn’t anything you didn’t put it on.

You searched the room opening ever drawer and checking ever nook you could. You were getting frustrated not being able to find the safe you knew was there. Until you remembered in those movies people would keep things behind paintings. Eh it was worth a shot to check. Moving the few art pieces you rolled your eyes as you actually found the safe behind a painting of the boss. He was handsome, but word had it he was a very cold hearted man. I mean he had to be doing this job.

You searched anywhere to find a code he might have wrote down anywhere. You sighed why couldn’t it have been one of those with the tiny keys. As you looked you heard the door opening “fuck” you say in a whisper “this is it huh” you said to yourself. You weren’t going to go out with a fight though. You stood behind the door waiting for him to come in as he shut the door he looked over to his desk. Noticing things had been moved he turned to grab the door again only to be met with your eyes.

He was so calm and collected while your heart was about to beat out of your chest. Your palms started to sweat and you could feel a lump get stuck in your throat as you tried to speak. He tilted his head a bit looking you over “who hired you?” He asked staring at you eyes staying locked “I’ll pay you double what they’re paying you” he said still studying you. He seemed almost confused you looked like such a sweet girl. Your innocent eyes shaking as you stared at him.

“No one sent me” you admitted, trying to make eye contact with him. He scoffed a bit “you broke in here with out no one find you and you expect me to believe you” he laughed “what the hell did you come here for then? Do you have a death wish?” He said making his way to his desk. This wasn’t going as you expected but you weren’t leaving here empty handed. You stared at him as he looked at the painting that hid the safe. “Ah so you came for money is that it?” He questioned. You nod “My brother is sick” you said softly “i don’t give hand outs sorry” he laughs a bit before you cut him off “then let me work for you, I can do anything.”

He paused looking at you “I can get a whore anytime” he was about to say before you continued “I can clean really well, I’m also a pretty good cook” he raised an eyebrow he was honestly more confused than anything. “Pay me the money for my brother and in return I’ll be your servant” you said choking back tears. You couldn’t tell if it was from being upset about your brother or the fact this man could literally just kill you here.

He walked to his desk sitting down staring at you with big boba eyes “and if I refuse?” He smirked “what will little you do to me hmm?” He has a point what exactly could you do if he said no. The only thing you could really muster out was a “please” your hands trembled now, shaking so bad it felt like you were vibrating. Your legs felt like jello so wobbly and weak. You looked over your face making his way to you he lifted your head to make you look at him. He stared at you thinking hard “You will do anything I ask you. No protesting. Everything I say to you is met with a yes sir. If you cannot follow these orders say goodbye to your brother.”

That last part hurt a bit, but you nodded excepting the offer “good girl” he said in response dropping your face “how much exactly do you need?” He says like the money is an after thought like he was so rich it wouldn’t matter. “His first treatment would be 80K but his insurance is covering at least 10K so 70K.” You croaked out. It was so much money and that was only for the first treatment and it may not even work. You had 5K saved already from working yourself to death but it would take you forever to get it all.

He nodded “pocket change honestly” he said with a cold expression “I’ll pay it in full for you to come work for me for at least 6months” he said staring at you. You were honestly shocked 6months? You thought he’d just make you a slave forever “however you will move into my home for the time being so I can keep you close. Don’t want you running off after I pay” he laughed a bit “like you’d be able to hide from me” he said still laughing. “And if he needs another treatment we can work something out.” He said cracking his neck slightly.

You kinda just nod your head was empty at this point. Your body had almost gone numb at the thought of what you had offered. If you got yourself killed who would be there to help your brother? So you made a deal with yourself there and then, you were gonna put a smile on and work as hard as possible. No matter what the man would through at you. You were gonna live and live to see your brother better.

“So is it a deal darling?” He said his voice so sweet sounding but his face turned into a smug smile. “It’s a deal.” You said locking eyes with the man “Good choice, now please sit while I grab my stuff. We will swing by your house before we head to your new home.” You nod “oh by the way darling I never caught your name.” He said nonchalantly rummaging through his desk “I’m y/n.” You said as you watched the man he nodded slightly “Y/n- hmm. A pretty name for a pretty lady” he smiled.

Was he hitting on you? Your eyes widen a small bit thinking to yourself. The smile on his face widened a bit at your expression “gonna put you to work when we get there cause I’m starving” he said finding the paper he needed “oh by the way kitten, if you are going to my little slave just know you will not leave as innocent as you came here” he said smirking getting up putting his bag over his shoulder. That’s it. You had literally just sold yourself, not just for work but your body.

Shit. You said to yourself can’t he get any hooker or whatever he wants. He wouldn’t want you right? RIGHT!?

-🩵

He opened the door for you to get in the car he got in after sitting beside you. He told the older man driving your address and you headed to your house. Your mind buzzing thinking of what you are getting into. You broke the silence with a low “shit.” Minho turned his head in question wondering what had made you said that. But before he could ask the man had pulled into your place. It was a small janky apartment where he knew well had a lot of problems. Just last week someone from his group had shot someone dead in the street.

His eyes looked over at you how could you be living here? Someone so beautiful in such a crime ridden place, you didn’t have anyone here to protect you he thought to himself. Or did you? He never thought to ask honestly. And if you would have someone what then? He’d make sure they’d be outta the picture.

Minho broke out of his thoughts as you tapped his shoulder “uhm we’re here” you said softly looking at him with almost puppy dog eyes. You both walked in silence up to your door, your apartment was pretty empty you hadn’t bought much of anything after moving here. It was the closets and cheapest place you could get to your work and your brother. The place itself was very neat and clean almost looked like you just moved in.

Closing the door behind you, you turned to Minho “I have a question” you said avoiding eye contact. Before he could respond he heard a faint meow coming from the only chair you had in the living room. He smiled his expression softened as he knew what you were gonna ask. “I’ve always loved cats” he said walking towards the crusty looking cat. The cat rolled over as he approached exposing her little patchy belly. Her fur was a burnt orange color with a black and white batches over. She was a little chunky thing, with only one eye. Her meow was cute almost like a kittens meow how high pitched it was.

“Will she be joining you?” He asked as he petted her soft fur. His body language was so different now, he seemed approachable and kind. “Is that ok with you?” You said with hopeful eyes. He nods “of course” he pauses for second “when we get home you will address me as sir as I said before. You haven’t said it once but I will let it slide for now.” He said standing up staring at you “get what you need quickly.”

You head to your room grabbing clothes and such. As you did the man snooped through your house. Checking your fridge. Empty. Empty?? His jaw almost drops at the sight. It was so bare not even condiments. There was a single bottle of water, a small carton of milk and jar of jelly. What the fuck do you even eat? He questioned. How are you even alive if this is what your fridge looked like. He looked in the cupboard seeing a few canned foods but he noticed you had a whole shelf of cat food, treats and wet food. Of course. Damn you’re so sweet aren’t you. Buying food for your cat over yourself. God how’s he gonna be this tough guy over you when you’re this loving? He thought.

You came back out with a suitcase packing the cats stuff and putting her in her carrier. You looked at him as he stood by the door scared for what is to come but relieved your brother will be taken care of. You two walked back the car heading to your new “home” back again in silence.

-🩵

You pulled up to a beautiful house, it was nestled in the woods you could see a beautiful garden at the side with a small pool on the other side of the house. The house itself was not overly big. Bigger than one man needed but no mansion like you thought he’d have. Stepping out of the car Minho grabbed the carrier as you took your suit case out. You headed inside where he gave you a small tour, showing you where you’d be staying which was right across from his room.

“Alright now that you know the place I’m starving.” He said stretching his arms above his head “let’s see how your cooking skills are” you nod as you both walked towards the kitchen. You looked through the fridge that was stalked to the brim of fresh vegetables, fresh fruit and meat. Anything and everything you could really want. You quickly get to work on making him some fish over rice and some fresh steamed veggies.

As you cooked he watched over you, like a Sargent almost. He found it so attractive you could cook because he himself loved to cook. That’s a reason he’s never hired a chef but now he had you. Watching you make him food, your pretty lips in a pout almost as you focused on what you were doing. His body almost moved on its own, he pressed himself against your hands coming up to grab yours as you cook. “You should do it like this” he said helping you cook the fish.

He was so close to you, you could feel his hot breath on the back of your neck. Body pressed as close to yours as he could. His other hand resting firmly on your hip as his other wrapped around your hand that was holding the pan. You could feel him moving his hips slightly against you. Soft enough he thought you wouldn’t feel, but you did. God did you feel it. “Y/n” he said softly “you’re doing so well” his voice barely audible. The very intimate moment was interrupted by his phone ringing. His sighed loudly as he pealed himself away from your body grumply answering the phone.

“What” he hissed at whoever pulled him away from you. “Alright I’ll be right there” he said another loud sigh escaping his plush lips. “Of course I gotta go” he rolled his eyes. You titled your head a bit as you heard a car horn honking. He quickly went to the door “Make yourself at home I won’t be gone longer than 2 hours.” He said rushing out the door. You breathed out almost sad he had to leave. You wondered how much time he actually had to himself. He seems like he works himself a lot especially at the state of his house. You finished making his dinner placing it in the microwave for him to heat back up.

You kept yourself occupied cleaning up the kitchen, you cleaned up half the house before you sat down falling asleep on the couch. Minho finally came home later than he was supposed to. It was 3am, he looked exhausted slight blood painted his shirt. As he walked through the door he was almost shocked at how clean you had gotten things already. He saw you sleeping on the couch he was going to carry you to bed but remembered his shirt. He took a quick shower before coming back out. While he was in the shower you had heard him come home. You heated his food up for him setting it out on the table with a glass of whine you had found.

You slumped back into the couch waiting for him to come out only to quickly fall back asleep. The couch was so comfortable. You had been sleeping on a small bed on the floor. Anything was honestly better than it, it was so hard and lumpy.

Minho came out of the shower the smell of the food had filled the air his hungry stomach lead him straight to the kitchen. His heart cried as he saw you had warmed his food up and sat it out for him. Why the fuck are you being so kind to him? He thought to himself. He quickly devoured the delicious food you had prepared and oh boy was it delicious. He made his way to the couch seeing you had fallen back asleep he picked you up taking you to your room. You laid you down putting the covers over you and quickly kissing your forehead.

This was it. You were gonna ruin him. You already had his heart melting. Do flips at the sight of you. The thoughtfulness you had already shown and being so obedient cleaning when he didn’t expect you to already. He stared at you softly for a moment “one of us is gonna destroy the other, I can feel it. And honestly I hope it’s me who’s destroyed at the end” he said before placing another kiss to your forehead leaving to his room. He laid there staring at the ceiling just thinking of you before drifting off to sleep.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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moonstruckme · 9 months

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Hello love, I just found your blog and I must say that I adore your writing!! I’ve been looking for some new marauder content and couldn’t be happier with what I have come across here! 🫶🏼🩷

Can I request a counterpart to Dizzy? Where the reader comes home super tipsy and roommate James has to deal with their affection and sloppy behavior :)) I think that might be a fun change of perspective for those two.

If not, no worries! Thank you for your amazing work 🥹 take care 🫶🏼

Hi gorgeous, thanks so much! Apologies for the wait, this got a bit long haha. Hope you like it <3

cw: drunkenness

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words

James hears the front door open and close, a painful sounding series of thumps, and not much after that.

He sets down his late-night snack of melon he’s been sneakily eating from the bowl you’d cut it up in earlier, leaving his fork sticking out of a piece. “Hello?”

Your reply is quiet, barely echoing down the hallway to reach him. “James?”

He gets up and goes toward the door. You’re slumped against it, cast half in shadow from the lamplight that filters through the window to fall upon one side of your face, brows bunched as you toy clumsily with your shoelace. You look up at his approach, and your expression clears.

“James!”

James smiles; he can’t help it.

“Hi,” he says, with nearly as much enthusiasm. “Did you have fun tonight, sweetheart?”

You nod happily. “I brought you something.”

He feels his eyebrows raise. “Something for me?”

“Mhm.” You twist onto your side, mouth screwing up concentratedly as you lift your bum to fish around in your back pocket. “Here!” You pull out a squished mars bar, looking rather pleased with yourself. “Those are your favorite, right?”

“They are,” he agrees, taking it from you, “thanks. Where’d you get this?”

“A man was giving them out on the street.”

James blinks. “Just giving them away?”

“I know, very suspicious.” You nod sagely. “But I already had mine, and it wasn’t laced with cocaine or anything, so I figure it’s fine.”

Right, then. James will just have to check on you in the morning to make sure you’re still breathing.

“Well, thank you for the gift,” he says, and is rewarded with your gargantuan grin.

“I’m glad you like it,” you reply, eyes full of an earnestness so sweet it makes James’ chest hurt. “I never get to do anything for you, and you’re so nice to me.”

“You do tons of stuff for me,” he scoffs, but you look prepared to argue, and he doesn’t want that. He gives your shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Hey, wanna get some water?”

You go quiet, considering this. “Can I have it on the floor?”

James laughs. “You want to drink your water sitting on the floor?”

You smile like you don’t quite understand what’s so funny but are happy to go along with it anyway. “The floor is good,” you say, as though it’s a simple fact of life.

“Alright.” James weaves his arm under yours, hoisting you up. “Sure, sweetheart, you can have it on the floor.”

He all but carries you into the kitchen, your feet barely touching the floor as they stumble inelegantly over each other and your one undone shoelace. You make a small sound as he eases you down on the floor next to the fridge, looking decidedly worse than you had over by the door.

“Do you feel okay?” he asks, keeping a wary eye on you as he fills a cup from the tap.

You hum noncommittally, waving him off. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Sorry, you can’t stop me,” he replies teasingly, crouching in front of you to pass you the water. He can’t stop himself. “Do you think you’re going to be sick?”

You make a face, mouth twisting in disgust. “God, I hope not.”

A nervous laugh escapes him. “Okay well, uh—here.” James grabs a nearly empty bread bag from the counter, taking the last two slices out and setting them on top of the toaster. He passes it to you. “Just in case you do.”

You give him a soft look, as if he hasn’t just handed you a vomit bag. “Thanks, Jamie.”

His heart sputters. You never call him that, and certainly never while looking at him the way you are now. He has the sudden urge to squish your face between his hands.

“Course,” he says quickly, looking down and getting to work on the shoelaces that were giving you trouble earlier. You’d double-knotted them and evidently forgotten. The action of prying the knot apart feels good, giving his body something productive to do.

For a while, you only drink your water quietly. James disentangles the laces and slips your shoes off, setting them next to each other on the floor. You put your feet in his lap, and he lets you. When you gasp, he looks up, alarmed.

“What?”

“James.” Your eyes are wide and glossy. “James, I just remembered the most wonderful thing.”

His heart calms slightly. “What’s that, love?”

“I cut up cantaloupe earlier. We should eat it!”

James grins, taking your ankles to move them out of his lap. “Great idea. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He stands, ignoring your confused puppy sound at his leaving.

Your eyes light up when he returns a moment later, bowl of melon in hand.

“Oh my god, you’re the best,” you gush, reaching for the fork he passes you from the drawer. “Where were you hiding this?”

“In my room,” he admits, sitting beside you. “I know you don’t like it when I eat right out of the bowl, sorry.”

“Oh, I don’t mind so much anymore,” you wave him off, forking a chunk of melon and taking a bite out of it. “That was a new-roommate thing. I didn’t want your spit in my food, you could’ve had herpes.”

A laugh startles out of him. “Did you think I had herpes?”

“I didn’t know!” you defend yourself, and it’s ridiculous how endearing he finds it that you’re comfortable enough to talk with your mouth full around him. “You’re a very pretty man, James Potter. For all I knew, you had a steady rotation coming in and out of your room whenever I wasn’t home.”

James guffaws, bumping your shoulder with his reprimandingly. “Wow, thanks for that. At least you think I’m pretty.”

“Just the truth,” you say into your cup, voice somewhat quieter than before.

He looks over, and you’ve gone a bit bashful, shoulders pulling up towards your ears as you down the last of your water. James thinks that he’s lucky you aren’t like this often. It’d be very hard to keep things platonic between you if you were this sweet and open with him as a habit.

“I wasn’t sure about you when you first moved in either,” he says to lighten things. “The first time I opened the cottage cheese and saw peaches inside, I almost moved out.”

You turn to him with your mouth agape, hand coming up to grip his bicep in offense. (He presumes he’s supposed to be intimidated, but all he can think about is how you never touch him like this, usually. It’s nice.) “You said it was good when I made you try it!” you accuse. “You liked it!”

“It was okay,” he allows laughingly, letting himself cover your hand with his under the pretense of loosening your grip. “It was just off-putting at first. That was a lot of weird right out the gate, sweetheart. Sirius wanted me to call the police.”

His plan backfires, and you drop your hand. Your chin, too, giving James a deadpan look through your lashes. “It’s not that weird. Tons of people do it.”

“Sure, sure,” James says, patting your shoulder placatingly when you seem like you could argue more. “Feeling like you might be ready for bed?” You seem to have eaten your fill of melon. Your fork lies discarded in the bowl, swimming in juice.

You deliberate for a moment before humming in affirmation. He stands first, taking both of your hands to help you up and marveling at the fact that you let him. When he turns to walk towards your room and you link your arm through his, he begins to worry he’s dreaming this whole thing.

“James,” you whisper up towards his ear. “Jamie-Jame. I have a secret to tell you.”

Definitely dreaming, then. A secret? He wonders what you could have thought of to tell him at this hour, in the state you’re in. Surely a good friend wouldn’t let you spill your guts when you’re this out of sorts. It could be something serious. Anything you’re not willing to share sober, he shouldn’t want to hear.

“What is it?” he asks, hating himself.

“I’m not going to take off my makeup before bed.”

A giggle bubbles out of him, so ridiculous he’s glad you’re not in your right mind to hear it. “Wow. Dire measures, huh?”

You nod somberly. “I’m gonna be so upset with myself tomorrow. I’m gonna wake up with crusty-eye and a million new zits, but I just want to go to sleep so bad, you know?”

“Mm, I think I see where you’re coming from.” James tries to sound like he’s giving it due consideration while he sets you down on your bed. You scoot back to the side, making room for him to sit beside you. He does. (Who is he to refuse an invitation like that?) “Yeah, you’ve just gotta prioritize comfort sometimes. You’ll make it up to yourself, I’m sure.”

You level him with what seems to be your best approximation of a stern look. It makes you look extremely cuddly. “You can’t hold it against me when you see my skin tomorrow, James. It’s going to be atrocious.”

He has to bite his lip to match your seriousness. “I guarantee I will not mind. In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never not looked lovely.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t get it.” You flop back onto your pillow, disconsolate. “You’ve probably never had a zit in your life.”

“Actually, I went through a fairly bad stint in year eight—”

“That’s not fair,” you groan.

He smiles at you patiently. “What’s not fair, sweetheart?”

“You’re not fair.” You gesture vaguely in his direction as if to make your point. “You haven’t gotten zits since eighth year, first of all. Then on top of that, you smell nice. And you have really long eyelashes, which no boy should ever have. There’s no way you appreciate them as much as they deserve. And you call me sweetheart—what’s up with that?” James blinks, but you’re not done. “And you’re way too nice to me! It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Right,” James says, considering. “So all I have to do is start getting zits, stop showering, and…trim my eyelashes, and then you’ll be satisfied? Justice will be restored?”

Your lips curve, and you nod magnanimously. “Yes, please. Straightaway.”

“Cruel.” He sets a hand on your knee, giving your leg a teasing little shake. “Should I stop calling you sweetheart as well, then?”

You go shy again, looking just to the side of his face as a faint blush colors your cheeks. “No, that’s okay.”

James has to bite the inside of his cheek to tamp down the full force of his smile. “Okay. Alright if I continue being nice to you as well? I’d feel like a bit of a prick if I stopped.”

You give it a few moment’s consideration. “Fine,” you say, as if this is a large allowance and he really is on thin ice. James lets loose his smile. You copy him, your own grin lopsided and goofy. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Can I have a hug?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” The word tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop it, warm fondness oozing from every syllable. “Of course, come here.”

Despite his own words, he goes to you, crushing you to his chest with perhaps a touch too much eagerness. You don’t seem to notice, drooping against him with your arms banded around his middle. He thinks he hears you breathe in.

“Still feeling okay?” he asks gently, rubbing your back. You hum. “Ready to go to sleep?”

“Not if you’re going to leave.” Your voice is muffled against the fabric of his pajama shirt. The skin beneath grows warm from your breath. “I like you so much, Jamie. You’re so nice to me, you know?”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that.” He smiles to himself, palm sweeping over the bare skin of your upper back and the material of your dress. He wonders if you’ll regret having slept in it in the morning. He can’t stand the thought of wearing outside clothes in bed. Oddly, he doesn’t know if you’re the same. “I can stay for a bit, if you want.”

“I like you, like, so much it’s a problem,” you go on as if he hasn’t spoken. You sound mildly upset. “You have no idea.”

Something tense and tentatively happy twists in James’ gut. It takes more effort than it should to keep breathing, keep rubbing your back. “I can stay, but you have to go to sleep, okay?”

You ease out of his embrace to look up at him. Your eyes are somewhat focussed, but watery. “James, I like you so much.”

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” he says softly, heart a hard-to-ignore, thundering thing in his chest. “Let’s just sleep for now, okay?”

“Okay.” You look reluctant but nod, laying back against your pillow. “Thanks.”

James doesn’t know what you’re thanking him for. He’s not sure he deserves it. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” you grumble, but reach up for his hand. He gives it to you, and you haul it to your chest with surprising strength, sending James slumping forward until he’s nearly lying down beside you. “Sorry,” you say drowsily. Then, after some thought, “Actually, no I’m not.”

James laughs. He’s happy to know you, he thinks. You’re kind and funny and thoughtful, and apparently very talkative when you’re drunk. He likes you too. Loves you, maybe. He’ll think about it tomorrow.

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