#it looks like they are staying at a hotel?

[artdcnaldson]

okay but PLEASE elaborate on Olympics!Art AU

TeeHee

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v), feral obsessive behavior, infidelity

A/N: And you would do it too, that’s all I’m saying. Also IMPORTANT note: I love Tashi, she is a mother to many. However this fic has a very obsessive reader who just wants to fuck a married man, at Tashi’s expense

Maybe you were a bad person.

You’d met Art and Tashi Donaldson before— a year back at an event held for Tennis’ rising stars. That was you, some other guys who had done well in the Juniors, a girl from an Ivy League, and more people that fell into the blind spots of your interest..

You must’ve looked so sweet in your formalwear, approaching the couple with shaking hands so you could say just how big of a fan you were. You had no ill intent then, not when you were face to face with two people you’d idolized since you were twelve and watching the Junior US Open. That night you’d taken a deep breath as you stared at the ceiling of your home, feeling like you’d made it.

Sure, Art was handsome, and you’d lived the past decade harboring a massive celebrity crush on him, but he was married, he was untouchable. Art Donaldson oozed that sweet, devoted husband shtick. Anniversary posts, birthday posts, Valentine’s Day posts, Mother’s Day posts. He had a daughter, he posted about how much he loved being a dad.

You were fine accepting that your fantasies of fucking Art Donaldson were strictly fantasies. But that was before you qualified and had to see him every fucking day.

Art Donaldson, who held open doors for you, who talked to you casually, like he might an old friend. Art, who stood in the long line in the food court with you, ate something he probably shouldn’t have, and asked that you don’t tell Tashi.

And you’d smile conspiratorially, and assure him his secret was safe with you. The implication being that you’d keep that secret, and more. As many as he’d ask you to, really.

You’d see him on a practice court, running drills with his wife, and feel the heat of jealousy in the pit of your stomach. You’d turn away, focus on your own game, practice until your hands were aching and sore.

“Where’s Mrs. Donaldson?” You asked one night after you’d been sexiled and had to sit out in the hallway waiting for your roommate to finish up. Art leaned against the wall, standing tall above you, so you had to crane your neck. You liked that point of view, on your knees looking up at him, you wondered if he liked it too.

“Oh, she’s staying in a very nice, very expensive hotel room with our daughter right now,” he said with a grin. “As soon as my events are done, that’s where I’ll be too.”

“Oh,” you said, bringing an easy smile to your lips. “Well, we’re all glad you’re here now.”

“We?” He questioned.

You gave a coy smile, batting your lashes so sweetly. “Maybe just me.”

There was a strange expression on his face for just a moment. Then he laughed like it was nothing. He wished you a goodnight and good luck in your matches the next morning, and disappeared into his own room.

You medaled in women’s doubles. They published photos of you and your partner biting the silver between your teeth. That same day, Art Donaldson took home gold. You were there to see the very end of his last match— every single collision of racket against ball, every step, every grunt of exertion. Your thighs clenched as you watched, fists balled up in the fabric of your skirt.

You wanted him in a needy, desperate sort of way. Like a groupie for a rock band, or a virgin being sacrificed on a mountaintop. You watched him celebrate with a kiss from Tashi and felt that same need like an open wound. Jealousy was festering in you like a rot.

The dive bar wasn’t what you’d expected. Something Art had found with a quick google search and a few minutes with a translation app. He’d knocked on your door to invite you, wearing the beaming smile of someone on top of the world.

“So you’ll come?” He asked after he told you all about it.

“Mhmm,” you said, heart hammering against your ribs. “I’ll come.”

And there you were— in a dress that hardly qualified as such— standing so close to him that you could smell his expensive cologne. His arm would brush yours, he’d glance over and apologize with a warm hand to your arm. You’d clench your thighs together and peer at him through your lashes. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.

A few of the other players disappeared to play darts, or watch the late night coverage of the other sports still competing. You stuck by Art’s side, happily allowing his attention to fall on you completely.

“I saw parts of your doubles final,” he said finally. He was drinking a brand of beer you’d never seen before— something local, you supposed. “You looked beautiful out there.” Your eyes lit up, and then he added. “The way you were playing, I mean— it was phenomenal.”

“Well, I’m no gold medalist,” you said. You let your hand rest on his arm, and looked up at him. The fingers on your other hand toyed with the edge of the medal, warm from where it had been flush against his chest.

He swallowed. You felt his muscles flex beneath your touch, but he didn’t discourage it. Not one fucking bit.

It wasn’t lost on you that Tashi wasn’t there. Not that it was really her type of venue, from what you had gathered. It wasn’t lost on you that Art Donaldson was at a dive bar, drinking random Brazilian beers, instead of celebrating with his wife, with his daughter. Fuck all those posts on his instagram— if he really was a good husband, a faithful one… that’s the only place he’d want to be.

“I saw your match too. I ran right over after my ceremony to watch,” you confessed. It was hard to concentrate on anything else— you were standing so close to him that you were nearly pressed completely into his body.

His lips twitched in interest. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Mhmm. It was incredible. You were so dominant out there, just taking what was rightfully yours.”

He swallowed again, gravitating closer. Your tits were practically spilling out of your dress— he probably got the perfect eyeful when he eased you closer with a firm hand on your lower back, when he looked down at you through blown pupils.

“You looked so fucking hot out there, Art,” you said, lips brushing against his jawline. “You can’t even imagine how it felt sitting there, watching you win. How turned on I got… how wet.”

Art exhaled a shuddery breath. “Jesus Christ.”

It must’ve been a while since he had someone want him this bad, you thought. Clearly he needed it— needed a pretty, sweet thing to tell him just how much they wanted him. You could be that. You could do that.

“I’m not wearing panties,” you whispered in his ear. His grip on you tightened and you had to suppress a giddy smile. “You can feel if you want. I won’t tell.”

He swore under his breath and glanced around. Everyone was too occupied or drunk to give a shit about what the two of you were up to.

He grabbed your hand, pulled you away into the bathroom. You looked pretty even then, in the flickering lights, sat up on the edge of the sink eagerly awaiting his attention.

When he wrenched your thighs apart, he was greeted by the pretty sight of your glistening cunt— sticky with arousal and need. His hand fit there perfectly, right where you needed it.

“Fuck,” you gasped. His fingers rubbed through your slit— wet and hot and aching for him. Your head fell back, knocking against the dirty mirror. “Want you to use me— whatever you want, just take it.”

And you meant it too. This was your teenage idol— a man you’d touched yourself to the thought of countless times. He owned your body, your sexuality, as much as you did. It was only fair he took from it whatever he pleased.

You watched with hungry eyes as he fumbled with the button of his pants, then shoved them down just enough to free his dick.

Your mouth fucking watered with the need to feel it on your tongue, nudging against the back of your throat. You weren’t opposed to begging— you nearly started before you got it into your hand.

Warm, thick, pulsing. Precum beaded at his tip, so you smeared it around the sensitive head of his cock with your thumb. He groaned, bucked into your fist once, twice before he moved your hand.

“Spread your legs wider for me,” he said, slapping the inside of your thighs. You obeyed wordlessly, spreading yourself out invitingly. He pressed closer, so you felt him rutting his dick against your pussy, coating it in your arousal. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

The words came out with equal parts disgust and awe. He probably thought you were a slut with the way you were throwing yourself at him. You wished he’d just call you that, spit it in your face.

Your cunt pulsed with need, aching to be filled up finally. The culmination of years of fantasizing. Art pressed himself against your entrance, sinking himself into you with the slow reverence of a man who liked making love.

He buried himself inside of you and had to stop moving to keep from cumming then and there. He was a perfect image of restraint— the way his fingers dimpled the flesh of your hips in a bruising grip.

Art wanted to be a gentleman— to give you time to adjust to the size of him, to ease you into it and let the pleasure be a slow, soft burn. He pulled out nice and easy, slid himself into your wet, throbbing cunt. That was all fine and good, but you knew it was just pretense. You were laid out and wanting, begging for him to use you as his own personal toy.

“I’m not your wife, Art.” You met his gaze, locked your ankles around his waist. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

The first thrust, the first real one, knocked the air from your lungs. That silence didn’t last long— because you got what you wanted— he was really fucking you, bullying his cock into your pussy with the same need and desperation that you felt.

“Jesus Christ, you’ve— fuck— you’ve got no fucking self respect, huh?” He pounded into you, leveraging his grip to pull you against him, really impale you on his dick.

The moan that escaped you was pornographic. If he kept talking to you like that, if he kept fucking you like that, you’d cum.

“You don’t even care, do you? This fucking pussy’s squeezing me so tight— you fucking love this,” His voice was strained, interrupted by groans and pants.

You moaned, eyes rolling back. “Love this,” you echoed. When you looked down, at the sight of him splitting you open, of the ring of creamy arousal circling the base of his dick, you felt dizzy. Like you were standing on top of a tall building and looking down. Sort of out of body, tethered in the present by brutal thrusts into your pussy and the wet, slapping sounds of your bodies joining.

Your fingers moved between your thighs, rubbing needy and insistent at your clit. So close to finishing that you wanted to cry and just ask to start over again, that you’d savor it more a second time.

“Gonna cum,” he groaned suddenly. You felt him start to pull out, to leave. It wasn’t fucking fair.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck— not yet, you didn’t want it to end like that. “I have an IUD,” you lied through your teeth. You used your legs, pulled him closer, deeper. “Just keep going, don’t stop. I’m right there.”

He moaned against your throat— holding you tight, fucking into you with animal need. Your fingers moved against your clit with an insistent need. It didn’t take much to push you over the edge. Your moans so loud that Art had to put his medal between your lips to shut you up.

And you were so pliant— letting him drill into your aching, used cunt, your mouth tasting like metal. You felt his rhythm falter— one, two harsh thrusts that knocked muffled moans from you until he came, painting your insides thick, creamy white.

He stayed buried inside of you for a while— panting, doing his best to catch his breath. You spat out the medal and it fell back against his chest, spit slick and shining. You reached up, ran your fingers along his face, reverently, sweetly. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and you tucked it away with delicate fingers.

When he pulled out, you felt that sinking feeling of loss and jealousy in your chest. He redressed in silence, turned away like he couldn’t stand to look at you, or the mirror. Shame rolled off of him in waves that you wanted to brush away.

It wasn’t bad, you’d assure him. You’re a tennis star, you’re the greatest in the world. You should have whatever you want, whenever you want it.

But you didn’t say that. You just tidied yourself up as best as you could and slipped back out into the bar. If anyone noticed, they said nothing.

[graybby]

PR nightmare

Lando Norris x Russell!reader

The F1 drivers twitch streamer sister series !

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 here 2285 words

sorry for the wait ! hopefully it's worth it <3

This isn’t good.

Pacing back and forth around her hotel room wasn’t how Y/N planned to start her morning but the constant dinging of her phone had rudely awoken her from her slumber at 5AM. She felt reluctant to check it at first, anxiety swirling through her brain as she racked it for a reason why this was happening, nothing preparing her for what she was about to see. Hundreds of tweets and pictures of her and Lando from the grand prix the day prior - luckily none had captured the dispute between him and her brother, which came as a momentary relief to the drama that presented itself in front of her. The focus was only on the two individuals as they had been papped in the time it took him to find her in that heat stroked state and walk away from the bathrooms, which led to a multitude of both Lando’s and her own fans to start conspiring. Those who watched Y/N and had knowledge of her most recent stream - in which Lando had made his presence known - were already losing their minds, believing that this wasn’t just a coincidence and that she had specifically attended the race as his guest, some of these comments being a lot meaner than others - accusing the smaller streamer of being an ‘attention whore’ and ‘just using him for likes and followers’ however there were a few that sounded excited at the possibility of a blossoming romance between the two. Y/N laughed to herself that people were making assumptions about the two, trying to block out how much some of the hate comments stabbed into her mind but subconsciously agreeing with those that were finding it stupid that others believed Lando would even go for her let alone be dating her. 

She opened her chat with Lando to try and warn him about the social media mess but halted when she realised she was still left on read from the night before, pushing aside the feeling it gave her she began typing. 

I think we’ve got a situation..

The brown haired boy rolled over his plush hotel bed and groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Tired from the race and night he had which left him to return back to his designated hotel room in the early hours of the morning. He didn’t remember too much, only that he had been in a sour mood about something and decided to dull the internal noise with a shit ton of alcohol and crowds of people. His phone began blaring and Lando shot up to accept the call before he registered who it even was. 

“What do you think you’re playing at Lando?” a voice bellowed down the line. “Zak please it’s too early to be screamed at, what did I do now?” rubbing his temples, a hangover beginning to set in. 

“we said no more girl trouble Lando. It’s bad for our publicity right now, we really need a clean slate at the moment to boost our sponsorships. With all your recent antics the tabloids are making you out to be a party obsessed playboy and the current sponsors don’t like it”

“But I haven’t even been spotted with anyone recently it’s a joke- you can’t just expect me to stay put in my room like a good little dog all the time man-” “Hey hey stop, I know how shitty it is but yesterday you got spotted just talking to some youtube or influencer girl and the internet won’t shut up about it, you’ve been trending on twitter for hours and not for much of a good reason”. 

“What the fuck Zak- that’s such bullshit, shes just a friend and we only just met properly the moment it was photographed. It’s not fair”. 

“I know it is, look i’m really sorry Lando but we just need you to keep a low profile for a while- not forever, just until this ‘persona’ everyone is making you out to be is not tabloid front pages”. 

“Fine Zak I get it, I'll try to be a ‘good little boy’ just for you” sarcasm dripping off his tongue as he spoke.

“Whatever you say Lando, just don’t blow this. I’ll talk to you later”

“Yeah bye Zak”

What a fucking headache 

----------------------------------------------------

“Y/N are you alright?” George asked approaching his sister carefully, taking in her disgruntled appearance. He had found her sat on the edge of the hotel sofa - head in hands which tightly wrapped around her hair in frustration. 

“No” she groaned, slightly peeking out between her hands to meet her brother's worried expression. 

“I hate twitter” she cried out as George cradled her in his arms. “It's so stupid George, everyone’s going crazy at these images of me and Lando someone took of us talking yesterday. Now everyone’s jumping to conclusions and making up rumours I- WE JUST MET”, “I’m sorry- I don’t know why this is getting to me so much… I think deep down I’m just scared that someone’s gonna find out that we’re related”.

“Well just remember it’s not the end of the world if they do” George remarks, trying to hide the hurt he feels at the idea of his sister being this adamant on hiding their relation. 

“Yeah for you it’s not but the whole life I’ve been trying to build all by myself will just be over, I’ll just be ‘George Russell’s sister’ and who I actually am will come second”. 

“I’m sorry that's how I’ve made you feel” George pulls away from his baby sister in haste, barely looking at her as he rushes to leave the room clearly harbouring offence at her words, which she realises quickly after - attempting to follow him. 

“No George, sorry I didn’t mean it like that- wait!” the door slams shut in front of her before she can continue. 

Crumpling back on the sofa her tears continue to free fall, this time at a quicker pace as her heart tugs against her chest - guilt tearing through her. 

She reaches for her phone just to see that once again Lando planned on leaving her on read. Anger bubbling over the heartache she already felt towards her brother made her snap, hurling her phone against the wall on the other side of the room in a heartbeat as her vision clouds over, sobs racking her frame. 

----------------------------------------------

Clambering out of his room, Lando made his way down the hotel hallways, his throbbing head demanding a remedy which he decided would be a late breakfast. Passing along each door, stopping when he hears a loud bang against the wall he was outside of, followed by loud sobbing coming from a voice he swore he knew. Without even realising his hand was already knocking on the door. 

A moment passed before it cracked open revealing a distraught looking Y/N, her tired eyes made redder by the stream pouring from them. He was taken back by the sight, the shock not lasting long though as she attempted to slam the door in his face. Clearly underestimating the reaction time of an F1 driver as he swiftly wedges his foot between the door, stopping her from closing it as he barges past into her room. 

“I don’t want to talk to you Lando- why are you even here? You clearly don’t want to talk to me so just go..” 

“Wha- what gave you that impression?”

Y/N turns to look at him - straight faced, a scoff passing her lips. 

“You’re joking right?! You ignore every message I’ve sent you and you ask me why I think you don’t want to talk to me??” 

He stiffens as he realises his mistake this morning, too caught up in his own problems that he glossed over hers, he knew that her message would be about the pictures after his call from Zak but he didn’t know what to say to her - the way that Zak spoke to him earlier made Lando feel the need to distance himself from Y/N and the whole situation, something he thought he could manage until he heard her gut wrenching sobs and all his rational thoughts went out the window. 

His face softened as he reached out to her. “Y/N look I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t mean to upset you- I’ve just been caught up in a PR nightmare this morning and everything’s slipped my mind” she sniffles, eyes meeting his “it’s my fault isn’t it, the PR nightmare? Its cause you spoke to me” Lando notices her eyes welling up again as she spoke, he steps forward, his hand wrapping around her smaller one giving it a gentle squeeze - his other hand rising to cup her cheek (too close to the way the stood just the day before when everything began to go wrong). 

“Y/N no it's not your fault. This happens- way too often for my liking but no way is it because of you. It's the fault of nosy journalists and gossip pages that want to tear apart every aspect of my life and I'm sorry you got caught up in it. I can imagine some of the things you’ve seen people say about you today and I want you to ignore it for me okay- it’s just jealous, horrible people with nothing better to do okay? Don’t believe a word of it”. Lando stared at her, still holding her hand so gently as if he applied the slightest pressure that she might break. She nodded her head softly in response to what he said, a small smile breaking through the pained expression she wore since he walked in. He beamed at the change in mood, wrapping his arms around her in a warm hug. He had felt such guilt after ignoring her last night - he was so wound up by her brothers outburst towards him and being so close to his first win that he had given her the cold shoulder, choosing to drown his sorrows in alcohol and loud music instead of responding to her attempts at checking in on him.

Y/N melted into the hug, she hated the way that Lando made her feel so warm in the short time she had spent with him, especially after how cold he had made her feel only the night before, she felt she owed him in a way to hear him out, knowing how messy it can be living in the public eye. She was so glad she did as she stood there basking in the warmth his touch gave her - she felt embarrassed that he had this big of an effect on her, brushing it off and blaming it on how emotional she’s been all day making her overly thankful for his comfort. 

“Feeling better love?” he pulled back from the hug, hands still holding either side of her shoulders - that cheeky smile he always wore gracing his face as he gazed into her eyes. She giggled lightly at the sight before it became a full fledged laugh as he giggled back, smile stretching wider. They stayed like that for a moment just laughing as they held each other. Once they both quieted they sat down together on the sofa just enjoying each other's company. 

“I’m sorry about yesterday by the way, I don’t like arguing with people, George just set me off I guess- but it didn’t give me a right to take it out on you, thank you for checking up on me Y/N” sincerity oozing from every word that passed his lips. 

“Don’t worry about it Lando, but hey guess we’re both in George's bad books right now” she spoke solemnly, fiddling with her hands in her lap. Lando took her hands into his own as he noticed her anxiety bubbling. 

“What happened?” he was honestly quite shocked at her words not believing that her and George could have a full  blown fight. 

“I hurt his feelings pretty bad- I was going on about how scared I was that someone might do too much digging now that the attentions on me and find out that we’re related, I guess it sounded like I resented being his sister and he stormed off slamming the door on me before I could properly apologise, he just can’t understand that I’m scared it will just make all my hard work amount to being an ‘F1 drivers sister’ and not be recognised for my own achievements” she sighed, squeezing his hand softly as she spoke.

“I understand Y/N and I think he will with time, I personally hope that he’ll get over us talking- especially after yesterday, he’s never been that pissed at me before” he chuckled lowly, thumb rubbing the back of her hand. 

“He’ll get over it, he just doesn’t know how to react to me talking to anyone of the other gender without freaking out” she rolled her eyes as she recalled every time George had interrupted a conversation of hers, pulling her away from whatever guy she speaking to at the time before giving her a classic older brother lecture. 

“Good to know- guess I’ll have to start sneaking around and seeing you in private ey?” winking at her jokingly but catching the way her face flushed in response. Cute 

“It’s honestly not a bad idea though, that way we avoid any more media upset, you don’t have to worry about your identity and I don’t have to face the rath of your brother for simply just talking to you” Lando laughs nudging her shoulder as she giggled at his words. 

“I like the sound of that Lando”

“So do I” 

---------------------------------------------------

thanks for reading <3

taglist : @bicchaan @lauralarsen @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @ssararuffoni @cherry-piee @eviethetheatrefreak @2pagenumb

[pitchsidestories]

stay strong like a lioness II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Lioness!Reader

masterlist I word count: 1854

a/n: Hi, it's based off this request here, we hope it lives up to your expectations !

It suddenly felt hard to breathe, you fell to your knees on the pitch side, the whole England team was devasted, while the Spain team was celebrating the world cup win in front of your eyes.  The tears of disappointment and sadness you were holding back made your vision turn blurry.

In addition to that a lot of your Barcelona teammates were ecstatic by their glorious achievement which made it even harder for you to accept the loss.

An inner voice was screaming at you, you lost, you looser, you were bad, simply not good enough, not worthy to represent your country on the world’s stage !  The hateful monologue was interrupted by a familiar voice and a hand which was encouragingly placed on your shoulder.

“Good game, y/n.”, Mariona who was under the winners of the night congratulated you.

“No, it wasn’t, Mario.”, you shook your head frantically.

“Hey, you fought hard. It was a close game.”, she countered softly.

“If you excuse me now.”, you announced, shaking of her hand who was padding your back seconds earlier, as you prepared yourself to leave.

“Where are you going? I’m sure the others want to talk to you too.”, the midfielder questioned confused.

 “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like talking to anyone, really.”, you apologized in an honest tone.

“But-“, Alexia joined your conversation, looking alarmed at you. Her worry made your inner demons even louder in your head, you almost screamed at her, why do you care about me now? You just won the biggest title in football and I’m just a looser who will be just a footnote in the history books.

Instead, you chose some words which wouldn’t hurt your club’s captain feelings:” No, please, I just need some time alone.”

“Come on, y/n.”, Keira who lost just like you, opened her arms empathetically, but you refused to let her touch you.

“I’ll go to the dressing room.”, you declared sternly.

“We win and loose together, y/n.”, Lucy added, her eyes were red from crying too, the sadness she felt was written all over her face, she was an open book to anyone who would catch sight of the defender.

But you did notice that a hand steadied her posture. It belonged to Ona who smiled at the older woman. Much to your surprise she returned the smile, an unhappy one, but it counted, nonetheless.

“I don’t want to talk.”, you stated stubbornly. The loving words of your teammates who were also your friends didn’t reach over the wall you built around yourself since the final whistle.

“But when you want to, we’re here for you.”, Keira offered.

“Sure.”, you nodded absent minded.

“Girls, I think we should let her alone now.”, Ona muttered biting her lip disheartened by your reaction.

“She’ll get over it soon.“, Lucy agreed calmly while she watched you leave.

What you did not know while you locked yourself into your hotel room as soon as the team was back at their base camp, was that your girlfriends where sitting at home in Barcelona worrying about you.

“Mapi, she’s not answering our messages or calls!“, Ingrid complained and slammed her phone on the kitchen table in frustration. Her team was already sent home after the Round of 16, so she and Mapi had supported your journey to the world cup final from home.

Mapi frowned: “Still not?“

“No…“

There was silence at the kitchen table for a moment until the Spanish defender cursed: “Shit!“

“Maybe I could call Lucy.“, Ingrid suggested, nervously tapping her fingers on the table.

Mapi shrugged: “It’s worth a try.“

While she waited for Lucy to take the call, Ingrid put her phone on speaker. The English defender sounded tired when she finally answered.

“Lucy, could you please look after y/n? She doesn’t respond to us since the loss…“, the Norwegian got straight to the point, trying to keep the urgency out of her voice.

“She’s pulled away from everyone. She doesn’t want to talk.“, Lucy explained.

Mapi joined the conversation. Nervously she asked: “Not even to you or Keira?“

“No, she’s locking everybody out.“

Your two girlfriends shared a concerned look.

With all the hopefulness she could manage, Ingrid suggested: “Maybe after a good night’s sleep, it will be better…?“

“Maybe.“, Lucys voice agreed but sounded less than convinced.

“Fingers crossed. Thanks, Lucy. See you soon, champ.“ Mapi ended the phone call, still not much calmer than before.

But your girlfriends had no other chance than to wait until you arrived home from Australia just a day later. They really tried their best to make you feel better about returning home without the trophy. There was even a cake on the table but all you wanted to do was lay in bed until you felt less empty.

“She’s home. Hello, my love!“, Ingrid smiled brightly.

Before she and Mapi could come over to embrace you, you had already shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes. You silently waved at them before disappearing into your room.

Mapi looked at the suitcase that you left standing in the middle of the floor: “Still?“

“Mapi, that’s not normal.“, Ingrid voiced her concern.

“What should we do?“

“I don’t know…“

The two of them stared at the locked door for a moment before Mapi suggested: “We should make some dinner. She must be hungry after that long flight.“

Ingrid gave a short nod: “That’s a good idea, we’ll cook her favourite meal.“

“Yes, come on.”, the Spaniard got up from the stylish sofa they have been sitting on, while offering the Norwegian her hand, as she followed her to the kitchen to start cooking.

It didn’t take them long to cook the dinner you loved most, the delicious scent of it quickly filled the whole appartement, but smelling this only caused your stomach to turn.   

“Y/n, we made dinner for you.”, Ingrid told you in an uplifting tone, knocking softly at the closed door.

“Not hungry.”, you shot back. Immediately you regretted the harshness in your voice. After all it wasn’t your girlfriend’s fault that you’ve lost the final. It was yours alone.

“You need to eat something though!”, Mapi protested, she sounded almost mad at you for not accepting your favourite food.

“Later maybe.”, you replied quietly. It was so soft that your girlfriends were almost unable to understand what you’ve been saying.

“Okay.”, the defender sighed, clearly frustrated that they couldn’t get through to you.

The mist of sadness surrounded you and didn’t pass, even when the training with the Barcelona girls started it clung on to you like a second skin.

While you were pushing yourself extra hard in the gym Lucy’s green eyes noticed it with growing concern until she had enough and yelled at you:” Y/n, stop it!”

“What?”, you blurted out, still heavily breathing from the exercise you’ve just done.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”, Mapi added, the defender has been doing her training along side the English player.

“You all don’t get it!”, you countered angrily. The mist has been lifted in your mind, instead there was a thunderstorm of emotions rolling through your whole body.

“Yes, we get it! We’re all players just like you. We all want to be our best.”, Lucy disagreed furiously. The pain of the loss was fresh for her too, but she knew that new challenges were laying ahead of her, with potential wins as a reward to lessen the hurt.

“Exactly, and you can’t shut everyone out, because you lost one game.”, Ingrid tuned in, her facial expression saddened as she glanced at you. The Norwegian felt helpless against the state you were in. Nothing seemed to lift your mood and made you return to your usual cheerful self; the one, she fell in love with.

“It wasn’t just any game.”, you replied through gritted teeth.

“You were in a World Cup Final. Other players don’t even make it that far.”, Mapi reminded you.

“Right, this was a big achievement.”, Ingrid continued, beaming proudly.

You looked from one of your girlfriends to the other. Everything they said felt like pure pity, it made your blood boil.

“No, it was a failure… My dad said I had to be strong and I wasn’t strong enough!“, you exploded.

There was silence in the gym, your teammates stared at you.

Mapi took a step towards you.

“You’ve been very strong.“, she assured you.

You sniffed once, fighting the upcoming tears: “But not like a lioness should be… I let everyone down.“

“We all lost the stupid game.“, Lucy replied.

Keira nodded confidently, gesticulating to herself and your other teammates: “Yes, and we’ll win a lot this season together.“

“Oh yes.“, Mapi agreed.

“Now heads up, little one. There will be another World Cup final coming for you.“, Lucy winked at you.

“And you’ll be in it, no doubt.“, Ingrid added, her gaze soft.

You could feel your breathing slow down as you stood there and listened.

Keira quietly continued: “Plus, it might sound weird coming from me but it does help to talk to someone professional about it because…“

“Because you don’t need to be strong all the time, mi amor.“, Mapi finished for the midfielder, bridging the distance between the two of you and taking your hands into hers.

“Kei’s got a point.“, Lucy said before quickly following up with: “That excludes me though.“

This caused Ona to raise her eyebrows at her girlfriend: “Lies. You cried about it on the first night of our vacation.“

“Shut up, Ona!“, the English defender shot back quickly but with a laugh.

You paused, looking at her. Lucy was without doubt the toughest person you had ever met. “Wait, you cried?“

Instead of her Ona answered, shooting Lucy teasing look: “Oh yes, like a little baby.“

“I didn’t cry. Especially not like a baby!“, she protested.

For the first time since the World Cup, you could feel a smile appear on your face: “I believe Ona.“

Returning your smile, Lucy shook her head: “Of course such blatant lies cheer you up.“

“They do.“

The sadness still weighed heavy on your chest but you felt like a dark veil had been lifted. The conversation with your teammates earlier had helped and you were ready to finally let people in again.

Exhausted from your gym session, you laid in bed with your girlfriends, one on either side of you.

“Can you two just hold me until it doesn’t hurt as much anymore?“, you asked quietly, your gaze directed towards the ceiling.

Your sweet girlfriends immediately wrapped you up into their arms, keeping you safe in their middle.

“Sure, as long as you need us to.“, Ingrid whispered while Mapi pressed gentle kisses onto your temple.

You were so grateful for your teammates and your two girlfriends. Right there, between them, the voices in your head seemed to quiet down and you fell asleep almost feeling at peace.

Maybe you failed at winning the most important game of your life so far but you would always be more than just good enough for Mapi and Ingrid.

[leonw4nter]

I really like ur fics with Leon as a dad 🤍 can I request one where it’s angst at the start but happy at the end? I think with Leon’s job he’s probably alway moving to new places and his wife is kinda at the point where she just can’t take it and worried for their kid?

My Baby Here On Earth Showed Me What My Heart Was Worth

Husband!RE:Damnation!Leon x F!Reader

“The kids are sleeping now,” you quietly tell your husband as you get into bed with him.

He hums a response, setting aside a copy of William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury as he gets up. To go look at the kids one more time for the night, he says as he walks around the foot of the bed and towards the door. You wait until Leon noiselessly closes the door, his footsteps growing fainter as he grows more distanced from you, to sigh deeply, sitting up to lean against the cold headboard as you bury your face in your hands for a moment. You love Leon and you know that he loves you and your kids too but he’s grown increasingly distant with each passing day after coming home from deployment to the Eastern Slav Republic. You’ve done your best to show that you’re there for him, initiating conversations and even giving him simple compliments but the most he’s done is look in your direction and nod. A hum and a forced smile, if you’re lucky and he’s feeling less bad about himself. He still took care of the kids, driving them to school and playing with them in the afternoons but it’s clear that his mind is far from home. Even the kids could sense just how weary their father is, doing their best to cheer him up by giving him colorful drawings and letters. “Don’t be sad, daddy! Me, Ollie, and mama are here for yuo!” one of them reads, the word ‘you’ misspelled but Leon loved it nonetheless. For a quick moment he genuinely smiled whenever he read the letters and saw the drawings again before the frown took its place in his face again as he put the artwork in a folder and placed it back in the drawer cabinet.

You lifted your head from your hands when Leon walked back in, silent as always as he headed back to his side of the bed. You stared at him, urging him to say something–anything, just to dissolve the wall that he put up around himself but to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t speak. He checks the time on his phone and decides that it’s far too late to continue reading his book and sinks down beneath the covers, muttering a nearly inaudible ‘goodnight’ to you before he closes his eyes and drifts to sleep. Hurt, you scoff at how distant he feels. Physically, he’s home and with you but you know that emotionally and mentally, he’s still on the other side of the world and dealing with Tyrants, Lickers, and corrupt leaders. Turning the lamp off, you sink into the sheets as well and turn to face the wall. You have so much to say, so much to express to him but you’re afraid that this will only push him further from you even more. Worst case scenario, he packs his bags and sleeps in a hotel for a week before coming home plastered. He’s never done that before but you don’t want this rift to widen to the point he even considers doing that, maybe even leave behind the family he has with you for the enigmatic woman in red. Inhaling deeply, you shut your eyes before you speak to him. You don’t even think deeply about what you’re doing before your fears get to you and force you to shut up again.

“I can’t keep doing this, Leon.” You shakily begin. “We can’t keep doing this. I’m here for you, so are the kids, but you’re pushing us all away.”

“I need space.” He responds. Short and curt, straight to the point but you wish he said more.

“What does ‘space’ mean to you, Leon?” you gently ask as you sit up and face him who is still curled up on his side, his face hidden away like a secret. “I just want to know what I can do to support you while also giving you some time alone.”

“Leave me alone. There. That’s the kind of space I want,” he grumbles as he sits up, facing you. You stay silent for a moment, your sympathetic gaze on him but his eyes are elsewhere as he runs a hand through his dark hair, not wanting to see the look on your face.

“Okay. But let’s still talk, okay? Let’s voice out how we feel and communicate, I want to be able to provide you with what you need–”

“Why are you doing this?” Leon interrupts, not out of irritation but rather out of wonder. Your eyes widen for a quick moment before you inch a little near him, hesitant to reach out and place your hand on his hand.

“Because I care for you, Leon, and I don’t want to see you suffer alone. I want to be here for you and share the weight of the world on your shoulders too. You don’t have to keep it all to yourself, I can see it eating away at you.”

He doesn’t stop you when you take his hand, feeling the scars and calluses on them. He quite misses your touch, actually, but he felt like he was throwing himself a pity party whenever he thought about asking you for a hug or a kiss.

“I don’t want to bring home anything from work,” he explains. “I don’t plan on mixing it– work and home life… and I didn’t expect for it to get to this. That I’m pushing you and the kids away. I don’t… I don’t want my family to even think about how the monsters I’ve killed looked like or how I killed them. Something as precious as you three don’t deserve that. Our little ones, most of all.”

Pulling him in for the first hug in nearly two weeks, after two weeks of Leon trying to avoid your physical display of affection, he gives in. He leans his forehead on your shoulder but doesn’t wrap his arms around you and instead, lies limply on his side.

“Oh Leon,” you delicately whisper. Sushing and humming the same tune you used to hum when your toddlers were still tiny babies, you tenderly sway Leon from side to side in order to ease all the anguish he bottled up and refused to share. It doesn’t take long for his tears to wet your shoulder, his large frame shaken with stifled sobs. He went by “Condor One”, “Agent Kennedy”, and many other aliases required by his job but at the end of the day, he is your Leon Scott Kennedy. “Daddy”, as his dear children would call him.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Leon slept in your arms, his head buried in your side with an arm slung around your stomach, for the first time in the longest time. He still shook and spoke in his sleep, flinching at times, but his sleep appeared to be much more restful. It was your turn to be unable to fall asleep now, a hand gently patting Leon’s shoulder blade with a watchful eye observing him. You were tired from the entire day and the crying you did with him hours ago but you couldn’t find it in you to doze off; you thought about your kids’ future and raising them, along with considering the fact that Leon was rarely home for a long time and was always moving to new places for indefinite periods. Each mission brought the fear that this would be the last time you’d see Leon alive, to be talking to you in person and that what would come home to you are two agents holding a folded flag, an urn, and what remained of his gear instead. It would be cruel for Leon, who proudly proclaims that his life has only begun when he met you. Leon, who knew what it meant to truly live when he found out that you were pregnant with his children. You knew that it also hurt Leon to leave at ungodly hours of the night when he was going to be deployed for a mission and to think that his kids would wonder where their daddy is and why he’s always gone. You’re used to Leon’s constant absence but it doesn’t hurt any less each time he has to go. His job is bad for your heart, constantly putting it in a state of worry and fear. It always stung whenever your kids asked if they could go with Leon when he had to leave on an “adventure” because they wanted to spend more time with him. You hated breaking the news to Leon that he’d have to miss out on another one of their school events, having to phone Chris or Patrick to attend in his place; he sounded so pained whenever he asked about the details of the event, his dreams of walking up the stage and being active in his childrens’ schooling playing in his head every time he closed his eyes for a quick nap before being back on his feet and killing monsters. Ultimately, you decided to give the kids a day trip with Leon since their only trip with Leon was when they were still babies. Sighing once more before giving sleep another try, you start to mentally compile all the things needed for tomorrow’s road trip.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“She’s already got a stain on his shirt and the ice cream hasn’t even melted yet,” Leon says with an amused grin as he tries to wipe the chocolate off of Euphemia’s pink shirt with a wet wipe. You’re preoccupied with watching over the other twin Ollie, who’s trying to call a stray cat and give the kitty a lick of his vanilla ice cream. You look back at Leon, who’s giving his daughter kisses as he got the stain to look a lot less dark than it was earlier.

“Pheme still tends to get ice cream everywhere,” you softly tell him as you offer another set of wipes, to which he declines since the stain isn’t obvious and the wipes could be used for later. Leon smiles when he notices you use the nickname he gave to Euphemia; he’s managed to get you to use this one instead of his other loving nickname for Oliver, “Rolliver Polliver”, derived from when Ollie almost ate a roly poly bug.

All of you finish eating ice cream without getting any more stains or a cat being fed something it shouldn’t be fed and get back to the car, hitting the road once more. Queen, Hall & Oates, Elton John, and The Flamingos have been traded for nursery rhymes and songs to induce sleep in toddlers in order to get them to nap a little bit. Instead of Leon sitting in the passenger seat with you, he decided to sit at the back in between the kids in order to spend some time being near them on the road trip. The twins seemed to have gotten their habit of sleeping with their head leaned back and mouth slightly ajar while softly snoring from Leon, who is also asleep with his hands on their child car seat. Caught in a red light, you quietly observe this tender moment in the front and snap a few pictures of them with your digital camera from 1989 that still surprisingly works well. You giggle at the sight behind you, heart melting at seeing your husband and children look so adorable. His jacket is on your lap when you told him that you were feeling a little chilly, insisting that he’s fine in the back without one. Just earlier, he was making funny faces and holding a serious, one-sided conversation with his little ones, making them laugh and giggle at his every word and now they’re all asleep together. If it means having more moments like this, you’re ready to fight the D.S.O. for keeping your husband occupied on the other side of the world. You guess that it’s also moments like these that Leon continues to fight bioterrorism so that other families can safely enjoy moments like this one without worrying about monsters coming to harm their loved ones. Since the red light is still going and you seem to have been caught in a moderate traffic, you take out your video cam and film the soft scene behind you. “Papa and the kiddos are sleeping together, their snoring isn’t in sync so there’s no moment of silence for me but I don’t mind. I love you all so much and momma is very happy right now.”

After nearly four hours of driving, you four finally get to the cliff overlooking the great wide sea. Parking your car to a safe place, you take out the picnic basket and start preparing your spot. You two chose a spot underneath the shade of a thick tuliptree, a cover from the hot sun. The kids have been asking so much about finally being able to play soccer and ‘helicopter’, a game where Pheme and Ollie hang from Leon’s arms as he spins around (the twins have promised to never, ever play ‘helicopter’ again because they got dizzy but they seem to have ‘forgotten’ it this time) and you explained that they can play an hour after having the picnic and when the sun isn’t so hot anymore. Leon agrees and although the twins don’t seem too happy, they don’t appear to mind it that much since they’re eager to help Leon in unloading the car (he gave them the lighter tasks). As soon as the food is set and most of the bugs have been successfully warded off, the twins gather to sit beside you but before everyone can take a bite of the sandwiches, Leon gets up and takes the digital camera and snaps a couple of pictures, even attempting a selfie at one point. Soon, everyone digs into their sandwiches and stuffs their faces full of the snacks you and Leon prepared together in the morning.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After what felt like the nth picture Leon has taken of you and the twins, he finally puts the camera down and puts it back in its case but picks up the video cam instead. The twins groan, urging their dad for more playtime even if they’re drenched in sweat with dirty knees.

“5 minutes,” Leon says as he starts recording. “Papa’s back hurts. Why don’t you ask mama?”

“Mama already played! She can’t carry us and she says she’s also tired! She’s reading now!” Pheme exclaims.

He points the camera towards you, reading a pocketbook in the picnic basket while dabbing your forehead and neck with a towel. He laughs and calls you, causing you to look up from the book you were engrossed with and blow him a kiss. He laughs one more time, ‘catching’ the kiss and placing it inside his shorts pocket which gets a giggle out of you.

“My beautiful wife is uhh sitting there, she’s reading.” He narrates as he zooms in. “Very beautiful, the sunlight is hitting her just right. Gosh, she makes me nervous and she doesn’t even know. Love her very much.”

He zooms out and zooms into his children, who decide to take interest in the rocks and starts flinging them towards the cliff with the intention to try to fling it to the ocean, which is quite far from where they are.

“Hey kiddos,” he says as he walks up to them and pats them with his free hand. “What’re you doin’?”

“We’re trying to throw rocks into the ocean!” Ollie and Pheme cheerfully explain, showing their rocks to the lens before flinging it with all their tiny might.

“Ooh, that’s quite far honey,” Leon comments. “Want me to try?”

The twins cheer and he takes that as an opportunity to throw one, the recording being temporarily shaky.

“Woah! You threw it far, papa!” The twins say and clap, determined to throw it as far as he did. He helps the twins throw it, focused on teaching them how to aim and the force they need to exert to fling it a little farther.

After several minutes of flinging rocks and random conversations with your husband and your kids, you call them over to look at the pictures Leon has taken. Everyone gathers around you as you look at each one, oohing and aahing at Leon’s photography skills. Leon focuses the cam on the pictures popping up in the digital camera, chipping in with his thoughts.

“Mommy looks amazing there,” he breathily says. “Divine. What’d you think, Pheme?”

“So pretty!” She beams before giving you a big kiss on the cheek. Ollie giggles and snuggles closer to you, occasionally pointing to the pictures.

Like you guessed, most of the pictures are of you, the kids, or both. Observant like their dad, they picked up on this as well.

“Pa, you’re not in a lot of the photos! It’s always us or mama!”

Leon chuckled, ruffling his kids’ heads. He extends a pointer finger to a shadow in the image before you switch to another one, pointing to the tall shadow once again.

“That’s me,” Leon explains. “I’m the shadow.”

His twins seem confused, falling into silence along with you, who is also intrigued by Leon’s words.

“When you look at these pictures when you’re bigger, I want you all to know that I’m always here. These are proofs that I’m with you because I’m the shadow and I’ll always look out for all three of you,” he explains

The twins say ‘aww’ at the same time and tackle his legs, hugging him tight. While you set the camera down and look at Leon with a small pout and slightly glossy eyes. Leon chuckles softly and places a free hand on your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek before you join your twins in giving him a big bear hug as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you, Leon.” You softly tell him, warm breath fanning against his neck.

“Me too, sweetheart. I love you more.” He tenderly responds as he hugs you and the kids back.

He’s thankful that this tender moment is caught on camera so he can rewatch it several more times before he goes to bed.

NOTE - I hope you liked this fic anon!!! At first, I wasn't super confident about writing this or how it'll turn out but I think it turned out nicely ngl :) YALL. I finally got my driver's license. I can drive. Do I know how to? I know the theoretical aspects of it but driving itself? Running a motor vehicle? I have yet to learn (it's on June 20-21 and my dad will teach me until I get better)... I also scarfed down a big spicy bowl of ramen coz I didn't have breakfast this morning <3 Also, It's not rlly embarrassing for me to be writing fics while my parents r sitting at the back (I'm at my living room) but making the border??? Looking for pics of Leon??? It's embarassing for me 😭😭 My dad said that my Chris capcorom looks like a Bánh bò and ngl I kinda see it 😭😭 There's a Japanese mall where I live and I'll be going there tomorrow so hopefully yk there's a copy of any RE book or manga (PLEASEPLEASEPLE) Anyways, that's it and thank you for readings my fics!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The wavy divider was made by @kaitsawamura , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[gwilymz]

Reader making out with Tashi after she wins a game at Stanford. And Art and Patrick are jealous!

Oh my god yes...

Patrick and Art are obsessed with you two. You're not on the women's tennis team at Stanford, but you and Tashi had been assigned as random roommates freshman year and had been inseparable since. You came to all of her matches; you were the first person she ran to after a big win, pressing a big kiss against your cheek and spinning you around, high on adrenaline.

Patrick and Art had fantasies about the two of you. Of course, as the two best players on the men's tennis team, you both knew of them. But neither of you had paid much attention to them. They were exceptionally popular and well-liked, and every girl (and mom) within a 100-mile radius of Stanford University knew and admired the two of them. Fire and ice.

They would talk about the two of you late at night as they stared at the ceiling, watching the fan go around and around until they were dizzy and drunk off PBRs.

"I think they are just really close. Girls are like that." Art said, sitting up to rest on his elbows. They had a match the next morning at UC Berkeley; the team was staying at a hotel close to the campus.

"Yeah, maybe." Patrick sighed. "I would do anything for them."

"I don't know who wouldn't."

Patrick sat up quickly. "Do you think she is here?"

"Well," Art responded, his mouth full of cool ranch Doritos. "Given Tashi is on the team, I would say yes."

Patrick threw a pillow at his friend from his side of the room. "No, dipshit. Like, I think Y/N comes with Tashi sometimes on these trips. 'Cause she never misses a match."

"Okay asshole." Art rolled his eyes. "I don't obsess over every move they make like you do."

"Bullshit."

"What is your point?" Art changed the subject, confused at where Patrick's mind was headed. He figured somewhere perverted.

"I mean," Maybe it was the five beers in Patrick's quite empty stomach that was giving him this idea. This confidence. He was usually good at girls, but he couldn't get himself to talk to the two of you--especially not sober. "Maybe we could find their room. And maybe we could hang out with them."

Art lit a cigarette, his second of the night. "We have never spoken more than 5 consecutive words to them. What makes you think that would ever work out?"

"Can you not be a pussy for just tonight?" Patrick got up, pulling his linen button down on. He grabbed Art's cigarette from between his lips and took a hit. "Or be a pussy, and I'll just go by myself."

Art stood up quickly. "I'll go." He stole his cigarette back, ashing it into the trash bin haphazardly placed between their beds. "But how do we know what room they are in?"

They knew the girls' team was staying on the floor above them. And they knocked on every door until you answered, rubbing your eyes.

"What are you guys doing here?" You yawned, whispering to not awake Tashi, who was sleeping soundly on the side of the bed closest to the alarm clock, which read 2:15 AM. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Art looked embarrassed; he was red in the face. But Patrick leaned into the room, looking down at you in a shirt he recognized as Tashi's and little sleeping shorts that made his breath hitch.

"We wanted to see if you guys wanted to hang out." Patrick raised his eyebrows and looked over to Art, who nodded.

"We can't sleep. We were thinking it would be cool to get to know you guys better, I guess."

"You mean Tashi?" You whispered. "She's sleeping, you know."

"No," Patrick shook his head. "Both of you."

Tashi stirred awake. She was wearing a black tank top and similar sleeping shorts as you were. "What's goin' on?" She slurred.

"Patrick and Art are here."

"Why?" Tashi, sat up; her hair was in a neat braid. "It's late."

"They have beer, and they want to hang out." You were half making fun of them, how they looked so nervous.

"We can't sleep." Art repeated.

"Sure, come in." You didn't know if Tashi meant it. She was delirious when she was tired. But you allowed them inside, curious about their intentions.

Obviously, they were attractive. They were also exceptionally talented. But you and Tashi were content in your own little bubble, eating gummy bears and potato chips in bed and laughing at inside jokes from 3 years before.

You sat on the bed, next to Tashi. The boys sat on the carpet, looking up at the two of you.

"So," You said, hugging a pillow to your chest. Tashi rested her head on your shoulder. "Did you come here hoping to fuck us or?"

"Wha-"

"No," They responded, simultaneously. But their cheeks changing from peach to crimson told you and Tashi otherwise.

"We are just interested in getting to know you both."

Tashi scoffed. "Oh, Y/N, they are interested in getting to know us."

You laughed, throwing your head back.

You and Tashi noticed the dynamic you had created, completely on accident. She and you on the bed, them below you. Their eyes were glassy and lips parted, and you knew if you told them both to jump out the fifth story window, they would do it before they knew what exactly they were doing. You looked at each other and licked your lips.

"So if we offered to fuck you guys, you would say no?" You asked, furrowing your brows together.

"No, no, I wouldn't say that," Patrick scooted forward, hugging his knees. He looked vulnerable and small. "I can't speak for Art, but I-"

"I wouldn't say that either." Art said bluntly.

"Y/N," Tashi said, pushing your hair behind your ears. You were facing each other on the bed now; the boys were blurry in your peripheral vision. "How do you think they would kiss us?"

Patrick and Art swallowed.

You thought. "Hmm," You answered. "I bet it would be desperate."

"I think so too," Tashi leaned in, her lips brushing yours. "Probably pretty sloppy."

She kissed you, tangling her hands into your hair. You cupped your face, pulling her even closer than she already was. Your mouths opened against each other's, exchanging spit and each other's hungry moans. You pulled her braid to expose her neck, and kissed down the column of her throat, climbing on top of her. You and her had never done this before; of course, there existed the inevitable rumors, but they were untrue--until now.

"Holy fuck." Patrick was the first to break the silence; you and Tashi grinding against each other as Tashi's hands kneaded your ass.

Patrick's hand grazed the bed, a move made in an attempt to join.

"Uh uh uh." You tsked. "No touching."

Tashi flipped you around so she was on top now. Her thumb grazed your bottom lip, pulling your mouth open. You whimpered as her spit fell onto your tongue. Tashi pushed your--her--shirt up, palming your tits.

"Can we-" Art began.

"Can you what?" You and Tashi asked simultaneously, pulling away from each other. A string of your mixed saliva connected the two of you for just a second longer.

The boys rolled their heads back and moaned.

"Can we join you?" You could see their boners, prominent in their sweatpants. Beads of sweat dribbled between their collarbones and over their brows.

"God, you guys sound pathetic." Tashi laughed. "What do you think, Y/N?"

You pretended to think. "Well, I guess it's only fair." You began. You saw the boys' ears perk up like they were hungry little puppies, their lips bitten from lust. "That you guys show each other a little love and appreciation."

[riririnnnn]

You know, one thing I always wondered was how awkward was it in the Itoshi household after the Itoshi brothers' reunion, but now considering this:

My doubt has increased that Sae indeed chose to stay at a hotel or a place instead of his own home.

And it aches my heart a bit knowing that Sae never said he hated home, and I guess, he missed his home too, you know:

When I first found out in the Light Novel that Rin was so happy to see Nii-chan (Sae) that he felt like running up to him to give a hug, I nearly sobbed 'cause I oh so dearly wish that was would've given him a hug. Maybe it would've shut Sae up and made him realise that he doesn't need to breathe and talk about soccer 24/7 and that their brotherly bond comes before their shared dreams.

Like, look at this dude:

That's the face of a dude who clearly needs a tight bear hug and a jar of freshly baked cookies.

[megumishousewife]

yunho with a chubby girl just sounds right

A/N: Me tryna distract yall from Megs x Chubby Youtuber Part 2. It will be here I PROMISE, but for now enjoy this lil Yunho smut...And there's the smut warning too👍🏽 Also momma hwa being some what of a cock block

Ever since you started college, you decided that you wanted to explore new horizons and meet new people. With your first year of college almost under your belt, you manage to make a pretty big friend group and get out your comfort zone. As a plus size girl, these things tend to be harder to do, but your friends encourage you along the way. It's the end of the year and everyone in your group wanted to hang out after finals and before everyone headed off to their own homes for the next three months.

Your friend group along with your 8 guy friends decided there's no better place to go than the beach and stay at a hotel for the weekend there. Upon arriving to the hotel, everyone began to move all their luggage to their respective rooms. After that, everyone began to get dressed for the beach. You were kind of nervous about wearing a bikini in front of the boys but the ever so supportive San was already boasting the girls up.

"And don't forget ladies, YOUR BODIES ARE BEAUTIFUL! WEARING THAT TWO PIECE GODDAMIT!!"

Seonghwa just groans as he places his oversized hat on his head, "San, hush...you sound like a perv"

San just looked at his friend in shock but Yunho came up to you with a smile on his face

"I bet you'll look as beautiful as ever YN," Yunho said.

You blushed lightly, "Oh Yunho, thank you but I might just decide to wear a shirt and some short."

Yunho looked at you slightly taken a back, "Hm, if that's fine with you. I bet you'll look amazing in a two piece though."

You watched as Yunho walked back to his room and that's when your best friend shrieked behind you.

"GIRL?!? YUNHO JUST CALLED YOU BEAUTIFUL AND YOU WANNA WEAR A BASIC OUTFIT TO THE BEACH?! GET IT TOGETHER, Y/N!"

She dragged you into yalls shared room and got you in a (your favorite color) two piece. She examined you a little but and fixed your hair in a cute style.

She smiled at you, "I'm finna get you a man whether you like it or not."

The girls arrived to the beach later than the boys and they were obviously doing their own thing. Seonghwa was by the shore, fighting the wind, Mingi and Jongho were arguing about beach volleyball, Woo and San were renting a few surf boards while Hongjoong was asleep in between Yunho and Yeosang. Yunho did a double take when he saw you, almost snapping his neck. He lower his glasses to see you.

Yeosang was already on his case

though, "Calm down Casanova- You've been plotting on this girl all year. Play it cool."

Seonghwa walked over and joined Yeosang, "As much as I want to agree with you Yeosang, she's about to see why we call him a golden retriever."

"Yunho, just-"

Before Yeosang could finish what he was saying Yunho was already happily making his way to Y/N. Yunho came up to her confidently but seemed to be a little distracted by your boobs.

"H-hey, wanna play beach volleyball with the boys? We can split the girls and the boys so there's an even portion of us."

Yunho literally wanted to vomit because why did he sound like a little boy trying to talk to the girl he likes? This isn't like him at all. However, you didn't pay any mind to this at all.

"Sure," you smiled.

Mingi and Jongho was already gathering everyone to divide the team, 4 girls and 4 boys on one team. Team one consisted of Yeosang, Wooyoung, Jongho and San while group two was Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Yunho and Mingi. You and your best friend went with team Jongho and Yunho almost went to your side of the net but Seonghwa pulled him back.

Seonghwa said, "Stop following her like a lost puppy."

The match started and it was intense to the T. San was your team's main spiker while Yunho and Mingi acted as blockers on the other team. This was slightly challenging because of how nerve racking it was to get the ball over the net for San. But finally, the score was 24-24 for the last point of the last match. Both teams had each won a set, but this determined who was the declared winner. And what was on the line here: Ice cream...the loser buys ice cream for the winning team. Mingi serves for this team and it goes over the net to your side. The ball came in hard but Jongho was able to quickly shag the ball from it hitting the ground, you ended up popping the ball up high enough to get it at spiking level, and San did his approach and-

SMACK-

Little did you know, Yunho was watching you the entire time of the play. Just looking at your body and how the fat just adds an extra jiggle to what you did. He was even turned on by the way your breast pushed together to hit the ball and-

The ball ended up hitting Yunho square in the face. You rushed over and asked Yunho if he was okay and all he saw was just an angel that was supposed to be taking him to heaven. Luckly, Jongho dumped a bucket of water to take him out of LaLa Land. Yunho jolted up.

"I'm fine, Y/N! Let me treat you to ice cream."

You nodded as Seonghwa gasped.

Seonghwa said, "THAT BITCH IS SO EXCITED TO SPEND MONEY!"

Hongjoong side eyed his best friend, "This makes me question how much you ACTUALLY spent here."

Yunho ended up walking behind you to the ice cream stand, watching the way your hip swayed and jiggled from behind. Yunho tried to compress his thoughts about how good backshots would be with you as he gripped your love handles to force your hips harder on his-

"Yunho, your ice cream is melting, " you said to him, leading him out of his thoughts.

He excuses himself and begins to eat and talk to you more. As yall walked the shoreline together, you two heard a shout from the other end where all your friends are. It was Wooyoung."

"IT'S ABOUT TO RAIN! EVERYONE TAKE COVER SOMEWHERE!"

Yunho grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into a nearby cabana just as the thunder started booming outside. The area was known to have random rainshowers but you could have sworn you checked the forecast earlier. Other than that, the feeling of being in a cabana with Yunho seemed a bit claustrophobic. Not because of him but because of the tension in the air. Yunho found the change of beach clothes that you guys brought. He hands you your bag.

"I can turn around while you change because I know you don't want to lay down on the daybed and you're wet," Yunho said.

You thanked him and he began to light the candles in the corner of the cabana. It's actually bigger and fancier thar he expected. Seonghwa picked this beach so he expected it to have some high quality service to it but a cabana that could go for a one bedroom house wasn't it.

"I'm finished Yunho! You can change now."

He turned his back and saw you in a tank top and basketball shorts. A TANK TOP WITH NO BRA?!? Yunho almost passed out but he just silently nodded and changed his shorts. The two of you laid in the bed with each other and Yunho felt nervous being so close to you. He had that feeling that he was about to throw up. Being close enough to you that he could feel your body heat and smell your scent almost made him want to explore your body. You interrupted his thoughts once again.

"You've been staring at me all day," you said with smirk.

Yunho flipped towards you to try and explain himself but his eyes ended up dropping to your cleavage anyways. Knowing this, you decided for the first time to be bold with a guy you liked.

"If you want me, come fuck me," you said.

Yunho didn't even try to question what you were saying, he instantly went to licking your neck while massaging your boobs. He wedges himself in between your thighs, grinding his bulge against your clit, causing you to moan. He went to kissing you while getting the two of you undressed until he had you completely unclothed. You blushed as you tried to cover yourself but Yunho lifted your arms above your head with one hand.

"Lemme see that body, pretty girl," he said as he made his way to sucking your nipple.

While he was sucking on your left breast, one of his hands managed to snake its way to your pussy. Yunho massaged you clit and fingered you, eating your moans as if it was just encouraging him to go harder. He stopped sucking on your tits and went down to your entrance.

"Yunho, I can't take it anymore," you whined as you pushed his head away from you.

He laughed, "Just give me one and we'll be done. Let me take care of you."

Yunho began sucking on your clit while fingering you. You moaned his name like a mantra, closing your thick thighs around his head. The way he ate you out was like he was having his last meal. Like a thirsty dog. He grinded his dick onto the daybed while giving you what you want. He looked into your eyes and saw that you were about to reach your peak, making his fingers thrust deeper and harder into you. You pulled his hair while letting out a loud cry and you gushed all over Yunho's face. Your body started shaking as Yunho licked up the mess he left behind. He didn't even notice that he had cummed himself. He kissed you softly on your forehead and grabbed a blanket to put over you. The two of you laid in each other's embrace while listening to the soft pitter patter of rain hitting the cabana.

"YUNHO WHAT THE FUCK?!?"

You and Yunho were woken up by Seonghwa and his oversized beach hat. He stood in the door way the cabana with the most disappointed look on his face.

"Both of you, get dressed. I will talk to you two in 5 minutes."

He shut the door behind him and all you and Yunho could do is laugh at how he acts like he's a mom.

"Yunho, I hope you don't think I was nothing but a hook up because I genuinely like you," you said as you looked down at your feet.

Yunho just smiled at you, "After this, I'm not going anywhere. You had me hooked the first day I met you. I just hate how you're constantly talking about how you look. To me, you're the most beautiful woman to walk this earth."

You kissed Yunho and the two of you got dressed and got scolded by Seonghwa. San and Woo just looked at Yunho and saw the him staring at you the whole time.

San and Woo's convo

San: My boy is a turned simp

Woo: What do you expect? He was practically foaming at the mouth when he first met Y/N

San: If they did something in that cabana...she probably saw why we call him a dog

The two of them gave Yunho a thumbs up from a distance, but he wasn't even paying attention to them. He was too busy following behind his pretty girlfriend.

[aesthetixhoe]

warnings: cursing

CURRENTLY THINKING ABOUT sharing a bed with sam.

two rooms were always the standard when you would stay at hotels on a hunt. one room with two queens, and one room with a single bed for you. it's always worked. until now when the hotel receptionist told you she only had two rooms, both with only one king bed.

“well, hope you like sleeping on the floor, princess.” he smacks sam in the chest, sam rolling his eyes in response. “but seriously, who's bunking with who?”

“is that even a question? i am not listening to you snoring all night! i'll room with sam.” dean raises his eyebrows, but doesn't say anything.

“suit yourself. like i said, have fun on the floor.” he taps sam's shoulder before grabbing his key and walking to his room

once inside you both realize how small the bed is. “oh, king bed my ass.” you groan out, dropping your bag on said bed, and walking into the bathroom.

sam chuckles before saying, “it's fine, it'll be big enough for you, it's basically a queen.”

you peak your head out from the bathroom, “who said i'm sleeping alone?”

“uh, me?” sam retorts, snickering after.

“Uh, me?” You mock, walking out with your toothbrush in your mouth. “I don't care, we're sharing the bed, I'm not letting you sleep on the gross motel floor. You'll get a disease.”

sam raises his hands in a faux surrender, “hey, i won't complain.”

“but hey, if we're sharing a bed, i get first shower.” you tease as you grab a change of clothes from your duffle.

after your shower you walk back out to the bed, seeing sam on his stomach already passed out. you decide to stay up for a while longer, looking for a new case, but when you look over and see the alarm clock read 3:16 you decide it's time to sleep.

you try to sneak into the bed but pulling the covers up to get under them wakes sam.

he rolls over and smiles at you, dopey. “mornin’ sunshine.” you say with a southern twang.

“how long did i sleep for?” he questions as he props himself up on his elbow. you slid down to lay on your side facing him, pushed close by the lack of space of the bed.

“only two-ish hours.” you half smile at him. he nods slightly and lies back down. you're so close your knees are bumping each other's, and you can feel each other's breath. it's peaceful like this; the ambient hum of the air conditioner, the relief of solving a case, the only light being the lamppost light bleeding through the curtains.

you shuffle a bit, trying to find a sleep able position, your legs still bumping sam's, but not enough room to back up.

“you can... like, lay on me if you want. to give you more room.” you've never had a problem being close to him. until after he came back from college. something about him was different. something about you was different. you yearned to be close with him, but always too afraid to make a clear statement, and not just dropping hints.

you took a deep breath and scooted closer to him, your leg draped lazily across his thighs, and your head on his chest, where you could feel his heartbeat. the warmth of him. his arm wraps around your waist and it feels like you were made for this. made for him. “is this ok?” you ask softly, afraid that if you spoke too loud he would realize what he's doing and back out.

“yeah... it's nice.” he sighs softly. contently. you relax, feeling your body loosen once again.

your top arm moves out from its place, squished in between you and sam, and finds its way next to his. your fingers, so close. so close you would swear you feel electricity pasting between them. his hand inches closer to yours, his fingers laying on top of yours.

it's such a small gesture, holding hands, but in a way it means everything.

after a few minutes, and you being nearly asleep, his head tilts down to press his lips to your hair. “goodnight [y/n].”

“night sammy.” you whisper. finally feeling safe for the first time in years.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

What if F! Yuu's dad got transported to Twisted Wonderland with her headcanons

Pt. 2

I thought of this concept after watching those Fantasy Dad comedy reels.

When your dad woke up from the coffin before you, lemme just say it was pure drama.

🦀:"Yuu, get back in the coffin! We're surrounded by weird men and boys in cult clothes!"

He was even more distressed when you came out holding Grim in your arms.

That's when Crowley explains you and your father's predicament.

🦀: So you're telling me we're stuck in a twisted Disney universe at an all-boys school, and you expect my daughter and I to stay here? Ain't no way that's happening! Yuu, come on! We're finding a hotel!

Somehow you and your father end up staying because Crowley convinced him that ya'll should stay in case he finds a way home.

Y’all still end up at Ramshackle.

But where the path differs is with the overblots and Malleus.

Your dad saw Malleus and you in the garden and put a stop to it. Hank Hill style.

🦀: Yuu, who are you talking to in the garden, in the dead of night?

🦐: Just a friend, dad!

🐉: So this must be the father everyone is talking about.

🦀: Who are you and why do you look like a demon?

🦐: Dad!

🐉: Ahaha, mortals think of such creative names for us.

🦀: Yuu, get back inside this guy is weird.

🦐: Don’t be rude, dad! He’s my new friend!

🦀: Oh really? Then what’s his name?

🦐: Tsunotaro/Hornton.

🦀: And did he tell you that?

🦐: Well….he wouldn’t tell me his real name so he asked me to give him a nickname.

🦀:I’m going to give your pale thin haired creepy self five minutes to leave before I kick your ass!

🦐: Dad!

During the Riddle Overblot arc, when Ace comes to stay with you, your dad is just onto his tactics.

♥️: Please, can I sleep in your bed? I swear I won’t take up much space!

🦀: Listen here boy, she may not be able to catch onto your tactics, but I can. I was once a teenage boy too. You’re not sharing a bed with her.

🦐:….ha….yeah…..to the couch you go. I’ll see you in the morning.

🦀: Yuu, lock your door before you go to sleep.

He pays Grim in tuna to make sure he keeps the boys in line when it comes to Yuu.

[atsumou]

ii. JUST ME & YOU

miya atsumu x f!reader

── next: iii. Honeyed gaze | series masterlist

synopsis: You spend time with Atsumu exploring the heart of Shizuoka—from the local convenience store, all the way to Sumpu Castle ruins; and while the two of you are alone, Atsumu can’t help but ask a question that’s been weighing his mind.

chapter content warning: college au, fluff!!!, slight angst, mutual pining (reader & tsumu are so down bad for each other it hurts), miscommunication, requited unrequited love, slow burn, poor depiction of shizuoka city, not beta read.

word count: 3.6k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. hehehehe more tsumu & reader content !!

“Anyone notice the weird tension between those two or is it just me?” Suna shuddered, rubbing his gloved hands together in hopes for extra warmth.

Shizuoka wasn’t graced by deep snowfall but the afternoon temperatures still dipped low enough to have locals dressing thick enough to brave the winter breeze.

The brunette recounted the moment in the hotel lobby where he found the two of you situated side-by-side on the couch, looking rather on edge—the slight bounce of Atsumu’s leg, and the way you nibbled on your bottom lip.

Osamu snickered, cheeks blanketed with a tinge of pink from the iciness of the city,

“Maybe yer jus’ imaginin’ things.”

Clearly it was a sarcastic remark, his tone dripped with irony that it—almost—eerily sounded like Atsumu. For a brief moment, Suna thought so too, and did a quick, discreet glance at his friend just to make sure it was the correct twin. Being a nonchalant character, Suna had developed a habit of looking up from his phone whenever one of the Miya twins spoke just to make sure he wasn’t conversing with the wrong one—the twins loved to play that prank.

“Best not ta interfere whatever is goin’ on between ‘em. They’ll sort it out like mature adults.” Kita spoke up, tucking his hands inside his pocket. Curious as he was at the odd situation between the both of you, he didn’t want to meddle—it was something you and Atsumu had to deal with, alone.

Mature adults, huh.

Two options. Your mind came up with two options to choose from, albeit, not really sensible:

1. Stay holed up in your own room for the whole three hours, and steer absolutely clear from Miya Atsumu, and that weird look on his stupidly handsome face.

Or

2. Leave the shared suite to explore the heart of Shizuoka on your own, leaving him all alone.

But, there was a secret, third option: Face this situation like a mature adult, and act like civilised people for goodness sake.

Your mind scolded you—or was that your heart?

“. . Yeah, guess so.” You awkwardly cleared your throat, tugging at the ends of the fluffy cerulean fabric wrapped around your neck. The room was way too quiet, each mocking tick of the ivory wall clock filling the growing void between you and Atsumu.

“So. .” “Hm . . ?”

The blonde shifted his weight from one leg to the other, caramel gaze never leaving your own.

“What do ya feel like doin’?” He continued, a hint of unsureness in his tone.

Atsumu was rarely unsure but he didn’t know when he had started questioning every single action he did when it came to conversing with you—it almost felt like the blonde was walking on eggshells, not because he was afraid of your reaction but the fact that in his mind, he seemed like he was bothering you even if he knew he wasn’t.

It’s scary to think how one’s mind worked absolute wonders to not only self sabotage but also to re-think one’s actions, especially if it involved love.

The day Miya Atsumu realised his feelings transitioned into something deeper—unlike you—he welcomed it with open arms, and no regrets; as if he was able to foresee what the future held, the blonde knew this would eventually happen, and he accepted it in a heartbeat despite being fully aware of the fact that his feelings may not be reciprocated.

It was a rather quick realisation.

Naturally, whenever Atsumu’s admirers approached after a match to congratulate him, he’d bask in their endless strings of praises, effectively inflating his ego, and pride as a volleyball player. It became second nature to him at this point—hands on hips, honeyed eyes closed, head nodding along to every single word thrown his way.

But after a particular game back in third-year highschool, it didn’t feel the same anymore. Atsumu’s ego, and pride didn’t blossom inside his chest, no sense of accomplishment engulfed his body despite the high praises—inside one ear, and out the other. He didn’t pay attention nor relished it for even a second because all he needed after a tiring game was your validation, and praise.

Atsumu didn’t just need it, he yearned for it, and didn’t dare question what his heart wanted. Instead, he came into terms with the enclosed beast inside his ribcage, the feeling of uncertainty looming behind his back like a fox waiting to pounce.

“Mhm. Not too sure, you?”

You replied, awkwardly stretching your arms above your head, feigning calmness. In reality, your heart pounded like crazy, praying it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear it.

For a split second, Atsumu thought keeping to yourselves might be the best option for now but the idea dissipated as quickly as it formed—he wasn’t about to chicken out. At the end of the day, your friendship came way before he developed these stupid feelings for you.

So he thought of a different idea,

“How ‘bout we explore a bit? Y’ down for that?” Atsumu really hoped that you’d say yes to him—in every sense of the word—because it’d been quite a while since the two of you spent alone time together, and he missed the good old days where feelings didn’t complicate the situation. Not to mention your strange actions as of late, albeit subtle, Atsumu was one to always notice a slight shift in a person’s behaviour—especially when directed towards him.

Oh, he’s noticed the way you slightly held back from conversing or even standing next to him—the hesitancy laced in every action, each a careful, calculated move as if navigating through a field of mines. It raised concern in Atsumu’s mind; what if you somehow found out he loves you more than a friend, and distance was your humble way of showing him you didn’t feel the same?

He hoped that wasn’t the case. Atsumu held onto the fact that maybe you liked him back too, and it was your way of navigating through those feelings. Safe to say, it raised a question in the back of his mind but that was for later.

“Sure. I don’t feel like staying holed in here, anyway.” Liar. That was the first idea you thought of.

Atsumu could almost jump for joy when you agreed but instead, he shot you a warm smile, deliberately ignoring the way his heartbeat picked up as soon as you nodded; he could already imagine the two of you falling into a step along the chilly streets of Shizuoka as the sun slowly dipped into the horizon—hues of oranges, and pinks decorating the winter sky.

Okay, maybe, the first thing you thought of was to help your poor heart, and avoid Atsumu until dinner but that didn’t mean you were immune to him—who were you to turn down the opportunity of getting some alone time with him? As scary as it sounded, you found yourself looking forward to it.

Engulfed by the cold afternoon breeze, you shuddered, burying the bottom half of your face beneath the azure scarf wrapped around your neck as you fell into a step with Atsumu, the hotel’s automatic glass doors closing behind the two of you.

The latter instinctively moved closer at your response to the cold—clothed arm brushing against your own.

You didn’t say anything nor moved away, instead, you let him come closer—raging butterflies in your stomach, and a thundering heartbeat made itself known.

If anything, the small gesture put Atsumu’s heart at ease.

Today’s destination for the next few hours was Sumpu Castle—after some thoughtful decision with Atsumu—paired with a little pitstop to a local convenience for some much needed sweet treat.

Despite the dropping temperatures of the late afternoon, the blonde next to you had made his ice cream cravings known. Truthfully, he’s so lovesick that even walking next to you had his body burning with unspeakable emotions, thus the need for a cold treat.

After returning a polite greeting to the clerk, Atsumu beelined for the self-service ice cream, a hint of urgency laced in every step, determination engraved in his caramel eyes. It made you chuckle a bit, clearly oblivious to the reason.

“You should put more.” You spoke, watching the way the vanilla soft serve swirled onto the paper cup Atsumu held, the other hand carefully pulling onto the lever.

The latter looked over his shoulder, honeyed eyes tinged with slight tease as he found your gaze, “It’s priced by weight, ya know. Why? Ya wanna share this with me?” A slight smirk painted his handsome face, and boy was that enough to render you speechless.

Just the thought of sharing an ice cream with Atsumu made you all warm inside. There may or may not have been an imaginary scene in your mind where the blonde happily gives you a scoop from his own spoon—god, you felt dizzy.

It took all your willpower to keep the corners of your lips in check, making sure they didn’t curl up at his words.

“No, I meant. .” You trailed off, voice dissipating into the thin winter air, wracking one’s brain to find any appropriate sentence that came into mind—one that didn’t peek into the untouched emotions you had for Atsumu.

The blonde let out a velvety laugh, brows shooting up in amusement at your flustered form. Adorable as always. He didn’t say anything else, instead, he turned back around to decorate the ice cold treat with toppings, lightly humming to the faint music of the convenience store.

On the other hand, you stood rooted on the spot—mentally facepalming, unsure as to what even brought about the sentence earlier.

With the awkward situation forgotten, you and Atsumu were en route to Sumpu Castle—of course, he didn’t live it down for the first few minutes, asking if you wanted some ice cream with that teasing look on his face,

“Sure ya don’t want any? Seemed like ya were really eyein’ it back at the store.” You playfully rolled your eyes in response, gaze lingering a little too long on the spoon he held.

As tempting as it sounded, you held yourself back.

The two of you walked along the streets of Shizuoka in silence, occasional hums from the blonde next to you as he relished the saccharine soft serve melting on his tongue.

The only difference now was it wasn’t as awkward as your mind thought it would be—the silence was comfortable.

Blending into the quotidian noises of the city as each step neared the destination; the low hum of cars passing by, distant conversations of the locals, birds singing atop leafless trees—you let it comfortably engulf your senses.

It was silly to think how love blinded you in ways you couldn’t comprehend, most importantly, forgetting the fact that Atsumu was still your close friend. The friend who didn’t hesitate to console you after your first bad grade in university, the friend who listened to all your rants, the friend who accompanied you in the library whenever he had time.

Love had twisted your perception so much to the point where you were almost running away from Atsumu, ignoring your platonic history together. It was silly, really, and this little moment between the two of you made you realise how foolishly blind you’ve been acting.

But then again, it was a double-edged sword. If you let yourself get too comfortable with Atsumu, you’d possibly end up with a broken heart. On the other hand, if you distanced yourself too much, it’d heavily strain the friendship.

Which risk you were willing to take was something you’ve been pondering.

Sounds of Atsumu’s laughter filled your ears, it pulled you out of trance, the city’s noises muted, as if left far, far behind.

“Samu and I didn’t even go ahead with the plan but we got a heck of a scoldin’ from Kita!” You looked to the side, watching as the blonde tipped his head back to let out a hearty laugh, reminiscing the old highschool days. The low afternoon sun casted a golden shadow on his side profile, illuminating his caramel eyes, and flaxen strands.

The citrine glow gently traced Atsumu’s features—from his thick brows, all the way down to his rosy lips, and everything in between. For a brief moment, you envied the winter sun for brazenly kissing every bit of his face before you ever could.

You subtly shook your head, snapping out of it before your gaze fell on the corner of his mouth, a smudge of ice cream lightly coating it.

“You have a bit of ice cream here.”

Atsumu raised his brows, watching you point at the corner of your mouth, a hint of amusement in your gaze.

The former darted out his tongue, lightly licking at the spot in hopes to wipe it away. You watched for a few seconds as he struggled to reach the spot, a small smile forming on your lips—Atsumu looked absolutely silly but you’d have to admit, he was still devastatingly handsome.

Sighing, you grabbed the serviette—that he got from the convenience store—tucked between his fingers, and angled his face before your own, mere inches apart. Both hands absentmindedly cupped Atsumu’s jaw, gaze fixated on his mouth as you carefully wiped the ice cream off his face.

The blonde froze, his jaw taut beneath your hands. You were close, too damn close that you took up his field of view—not that he was complaining. It felt like time slowed down, and he could only hear his short breaths, and thumping heart; Atsumu watched your gaze beneath your lashes, the way your lips pursed in concentration.

As you pulled away, everything suddenly came back to him—the soft murmurs of Shizuoka, the wintry breeze, the cup in his hand.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, a puff of ivory mist clouding his view for a second as he composed himself—or at least tried to. Your searing touch lingered on Atsumu, he could almost blindly trace an outline of your hands from where they were a few seconds ago.

A clear of his throat sliced through the growing silence before he muttered a small ‘Thanks’. You could only nod in response, not trusting your voice.

The rest of the walk turned a bit awkward but thankfully not for long as the castle grounds came into view, earning gasps of awe from the both of you—the ice cream incident long forgotten, and Atsumu’s finished cup thrown in the bin.

The historic ivory walls, and coal-black Kawara tiles was definitely a sight to see—greeted with a wooden bridge situated atop still waters that led to the Higashi Gomon Gate.

After paying for the admission fee, you and Atsumu didn’t hesitate to explore the castle grounds—you were greeted with snippets of Shizuoka’s great history; the statue of the honoured retired shogun, replicas of his armour, and clips & information about the castle’s materials.

Soon, you found yourselves outside, surrounded in vast winter greeneries, a lake situated in the middle of it all. Despite being in the middle of winter, Momijiyama garden was unique for its seasonal displays—endless trees filled with hues of pinks, and reds from camellias decorated the traditional garden.

Atsumu glanced sideways at you, eyes sparkling with awe as you scanned the entirety of the serene place. Your expressions were infectious, a small smile forming on his face as he stared at you longer.

“D’ya want a picture? I don’t mind takin’ some. ‘M no Suna but I’ll try m’best.” The blonde offered, jutting his arms out for your phone.

You hesitated for a bit before giving him the device. Sure, there were no problems when it came to posing for pictures, it was the fact that Atsumu was the one taking them.

The latter positioned himself to get the best possible view of the garden—all of a sudden, you didn’t know how to smile naturally; everything felt stiff, and awkward.

He let out a hearty laugh, honeyed eyes glued to your miniature form on the screen. You looked awkward as hell but Atsumu found it absolutely adorable.

“W-what? Why are you laughing?” You let out a huff before turning away, trying to cover yourself from any more photos, clearly flustered at his sudden reaction.

“Ah, hey, don’t go hidin’ yer face now! I was jus’ tryna make you smile.” Atsumu waved a dismissive hand, a big smile plastered on his handsome face as he kept taking photos.

You shook your head and posed accordingly, ignoring the fact that your heart hammered on your chest, and the way Atsumu’s smile widened in your cooperation—caramel eyes sparkling with adoration.

After a few more clicks, a much needed rest was due. The two of you sat on a bench near the lake—Atsumu scanned the view before him while you mindlessly scrolled on your phone, checking the photos taken mere minutes ago. Most of the photos were of you looking away, clearly camera shy, and stiff but ones that caught your eye were pictures of you smiling at the camera—at Atsumu.

The expressions on your face were genuine, and relaxed. You took a mental note to post those ones later.

The time spent with Atsumu enlightened your heart a bit, it made you realise that he was still your friend despite the way your chest tightened around him—that it was unfair for him to be cluelessly met with distance from your end. After all, you weren’t teenagers anymore.

Something had been weighing heavily in the back of Atsumu’s mind, and he didn’t know how to bring it about. The blonde stared at the mixed hues of green before him, as if looking to the trees would somehow tell him how to start the conversation.

Ah, fuck it. “So, how’s it goin’ with that special someone?”

Looking up from your phone, you furrowed your brows, wracking your brain for context—ah, right. One drunken night, after a particularly dreadful exam, you’d accidentally told Atsumu about having feelings for a certain someone. You thanked the heavens that you didn’t start name-dropping but it got the latter way too curious for your liking—little did he know, that was about him.

“Hm? Ah, you know . . Same old same old.” Your heart raced, wishing he didn’t pry any further. Atsumu noticed the way you fiddled with your fingers, so he remained silent, an invitation to either let the topic drop or carry it on at your own will.

“I do have this crazy idea, though . .”

A whisper, enough for Atsumu to hear. He nodded, all ears, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. “I’ll probably confess to him with rejection in mind. I know he doesn’t have feelings . . Plus, I’m doing myself a favour so I can finally move on.” You let out a puff of ivory mist, heart weighing heavy at the thought of rejection.

Rejection from the very man who sat next to you.

Atsumu slowly nodded, trying his best to comprehend your thoughts. He’s never heard of that before—confessing just to move on from one’s feelings. Usually, when one confessed, they had a relationship in mind. He opened his mouth, not really knowing why or how this question came to be,

“Hypothetically, what if they say they like ya back?” Atsumu angled his torso towards you, a strange glint in his honeyed eyes as he met your gaze—was it desperation? Curiosity? You’d never know.

“Mhm. I don’t know. I don’t even think I’m ready for a relationship.” “So . . yer jus’ gonna confess for the sake of movin’ on? Even if he likes ya back?”

You nod. What a liar.

It was far more complicated, really. Sure, it would’ve been easy to have feelings if it was some random stranger from a lecture but this was Miya Atsumu you were talking about—a close friend you’ve grown to love platonically, and romantically. Just the mere fact of confessing could strain the friendship, so you had to tread very carefully.

Even if it meant selling yourself short.

The possibility of having your feelings reciprocated weren’t exactly zero to none but you also didn’t know if getting into a relationship with Atsumu was something you should be doing. In all honesty, you were scared shitless.

Atsumu nodded once again. He took a mental note of your words, not knowing what to make of it.

The walk to the restaurant was silent—the sun fully dipped into the horizon, leaving hues of blues, and pinks in the winter sky of Shizuoka City. Warm lights slowly filled the darkening streets as locals began heading home, some opting to eat dinner out.

Atsumu seemed to be eerily quiet, and in deep thought for the duration of the walk. You, on the other hand, were busy conversing with Suna on the phone—who had been asking your whereabouts. You chalked it up to tiredness since you all had an early morning, and explored nonstop.

“An’ here I thought ya both got lost on the way.” Osamu waved the two of you over. The three of them stood just outside the restaurant, patiently waiting in the cold. “Ya could’ve jus’ went inside ya know.” Atsumu snickered.

The five of you were ushered to a booth, conversations of today filled your ears as Osamu filled his brother in about the bike tour with occasional photos shown by Suna.

Atsumu was the first to slide into the booth, his gaze met your own for a brief moment. You saw that as an invitation to sit next to him but as you were mere seconds from doing so, he spoke up, patting the wooden bench beneath—ignoring the way you looked at him.

“Suna, come sit ‘ere. I wanna see more of yer photos from the tour.”

Oh.

Sliding next to Kita on the opposite bench—followed by Osamu—you awkwardly cleared your throat, a very weird feeling settling deep in your chest after the odd encounter; your skin prickled in embarrassment.

Surely it was nothing—you hoped it was nothing but somehow, you didn’t believe yourself.

—

taglist (open)

tags: @ushijimaschubbs @tsumudoll @starlitsawamura @littlemiyastars @h3art-ablaz3 @eggyrocks @integers @rrosiitas @food8me @schelamski @honeytwo @nyaaa-cat

© atsumou 2024 | don’t plagiarise, repost or steal my gif

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Buzzed

steddie, omegaverse, modern AU, Eddie got out of Hawkins and got famous

Most days it’s easy to pretend. Steve and Robin share a house and a workplace and most of a life in Indianapolis. He can usually forget how he and Eddie almost had something.

But that was before Eddie moved to L.A. to try doing something with his music, found his way into playing a busker in an indie film that miraculously got oscar buzz, and suddenly he’s a household name, booking tons of projects.

And Steve is happy for him!

Really!

He is.

It’s just… He misses having Eddie around. How excitable and goofy he can be, but also having a thoughtful alpha to hang out with other than Robin.

Not to mention his campfire scent and the way his callused fingers feel against Steve’s skin.

They still talk occasionally, texting mostly, little check-ins every couple months, but Steve hasn’t seen Eddie in-person in at least five years.

That’s why it’s easy to pretend. Steve’s old friend, Eddie, and Eddie Munson, alpha movie star, are two different people.

Steve’s crush can exist between the pages of magazines and on internet gossip sites.

He can moon over the pics from Eddie’s photoshoots that he has saved on his phone in private. Can keep his fantasies contained in his nest as he imagines his fingers sliding into short curls.

At least until he gets a call from Dustin on an unassuming Friday night. Steve and Robin are already nearly through a bottle of wine, kicking their feet up after a long week of teaching, when Steve’s phone rings.

“Eddie’s next movie is shooting in Chicago,” Dustin starts.

“And he’s flying out early so he can stop in Indy for a week. I may have told him he should skip the hotel and stay in your guest room.”

“Dustin!”

“What? You’ve got one of the mattresses from the podcast ads in there! It’s comfy! And that way he doesn’t have to deal with paps!”

“Can you just say paparazzi like a normal person?” Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “But it should be fine. When does he get in?”

“Next weekend.”

“Dustin!”

“I only just found out! El and I are driving down in a week, and Mike and Will are only able to skype in.”

He doesn’t mention Lucas and Max, since they also live in Indy; Dustin and El are likely staying with them.

Robin elbows Steve and hisses for him to put the call on speaker, getting caught up as Steve has a private crisis at the thought of finally seeing Eddie again.

To make matters worse, his totally not stalkerish web alert for Eddie’s name pings after he hangs up with Dustin. A new photo shoot.

Eddie’s curls are gone, buzzed down to his scalp; Steve mourns for a fraction of a second.

Then he needs to squeeze his thighs together.

The wanting that he’s been squashing down for the better part of a decade comes back in full force, strong enough that Robin asks if his cycle is early and he’s going into heat.

Blushing, but knowing he can’t keep a secret from her to save his life, he shows her his phone.

“All I can see is how noticeable his ears are now,” Robin says with a judging look and a shrug. “And I am never going to buy Eddie as a tough guy, but I guess I can understand what you omegas see in him.”

“Rooooob!” Steve whines, indignant.

“Steeeeeve!” she teases back.

“I just… Fuck, I need to get laid.”

“I’m sure Eddie would if you asked him nicely.”

“Rob!”

“He looks like he could hold you down, get you to stop stressing so much.”

“Robin… I can’t think about that.”

“Sure you can.”

“I can’t.”

“You can, and you know why: The bulk of the conversations Eddie and I still have are about you. He always asks me how you are, what you’re up to, at least once a month.”

Steve’s taken aback by that. “What?”

“Yeah. He usually asks if you’re seeing anyone. Tries to sneak it in. Like I’m not going to notice.”

She raises a single eyebrow, and Steve feels intensely confused. “Then how come he doesn’t ask me? Or talk to me more?” He tips back the last of his wine and pulls his legs up tight to his chest.

“Because you’re both idiots,” Robin says, voice warm and full of love as she hugs him.

A week later, a car with dark tinted windows pulls up in Robin and Steve’s driveway.

Eddie has a baseball hat and sunglasses on as he gets out, the disguise barely enough obscure his features, but even if it were better, Steve would still recognize him by his posture.

Robin is out running errands and picking up dinner, but mostly giving Steve an hour of privacy. A chance to say something before either of them can get stuck inside their heads and fuck it up.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie says with a smile as he pulls off his sunglasses in the entryway.

“Hey yourself,” Steve replies, pulling Eddie in for a hug, ready to make it quick, only for Eddie to hold on tight and press his nose to Steve’s neck. A purr rumbles from his chest.

Steve reaches up and pulls the hat from Eddie’s head, letting it fall to the ground.

He rubs his fingers over the stubble of the alpha’s hair, keeping him pressed close to the bonding gland at his neck, his scent crying out for Eddie to claim him.

Soft lips ghost against Steve’s neck. “I missed you,” Eddie whispers.

“Missed you, too.”

Steve kisses the side of Eddie’s head, the only part he can reach, lips pressed to the velvet of his shorn hair. Then it’s like his brain suddenly catches up with him. “Sorry! We- I didn’t-”

Eddie presses a single finger to Steve’s lips, finally pulling back to look in his eyes.

Without his curls, Eddie’s gaze is somehow more intense, dark chocolate looking into Steve’s heart. “Don’t apologize, puppy. You have nothing to apologize for, not to me.”

“Eddie…”

“I’m the one who ran away, who’s been hiding instead of alpha-ing up and telling you.”

“Telling me what?” Steve asks, lower lip trembling.

“That even after all this time, I can’t get your scent out of my nose. That I still dream about you every night. That I work so much to keep from going insane missing you. That I sh-”

Steve cuts him off with a kiss.

Eddie doesn’t waste any more time, just picks Steve up, their lips still connected, and carries him to the nearest bedroom—fortunately Steve’s—and drops him on the bed. Getting out of their clothes doesn’t take long; they’ve both waited long enough.

And Robin will be home soon.

[twst-quotes]

Epel: hey, can we stay in your dorm tonight?

Yuu: A sleepover?? Aw, sure! Why tho?

Epel: um, so we accidentally offended some ghosts

Epel: and now they refuse to leave Vil's room, so he just threw salt at them and yelled "DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A HOTEL ROOM TO YOU?!"

[macbethsymphony]

Bb!!!!! Ok! Hear me out!!!!! Bartolomeo fucking you like a whore then later learns you’re a strawhat!!!!!! 

-M✨

MILLIE!!!!! YOU KNOW I’M FUCKING UNHINGED ABOUT THIS MAN!!!! Ok but like YES!!!! Hear me out for a sec.

It’s purely transactional, you’re looking to get fucked and so is he.

He’s all teeth and tongue as he slams you to the door of the dingy hotel room you’re staying at. He so fucking big and the way his fingers tangle roughly in your hair, guiding your head however he wants as his tongue dominates yours is downright dizzying.

When he pulls away, it’s with that shit eating grin and you’re breathless and your knees feel weak. He harshly pulls your head back and you’d struggle a bit out of principle if only you weren’t already struggling to keep yourself upright already. His other hand travels to your jaw and his fingers dig in painfully, forcing it open.

“You like that, huh?” His eyes search yours, looking for confirmation. His smirk widens as sees it, the raw desire, the want in your gaze. He spits in your mouth, his hand moving from your jaw to your mouth, bitter pads of his fingers mixing his spit and yours, dangerously close to your throat.

“Just like a fucking whore,” he chuckles, fingers so far he’s making you gag. And you can feel yourself dripping at the degradation, at the satisfaction in his gaze.

He unceremoniously chucks you on the bed. Doesn’t even bother pulling down your underwear, just pulls your skirt up and slides the drenched fabric to the side before his tongue meets your heat without warning. Goes right down to business. The metal of his tongue piercing against your clit makes you see stars and he brings you so near the edge. He’s uncaring in the force of his fingers digging in your flesh, inevitably leaving bruises behind.

He stops as you feel yourself teetering, almost there. And as you open your mouth to protest, he sneers down at you and harshly pulls your panties off, stuffing them in your mouth. The taste of your arousal strong on your tongue.

Before you can react he flips you over, trapping your thighs between his. You try to scramble up but you feel his grip in your hair as he pushes you back down. The sound of of him undoing his belt is loud in the silence of the room.

He slides in easily, his teeth sinking in your shoulder. One of his hands finds your clit, balancing the fine line between pain and pleasure as he draws out blood.

When Bartolomeo finally starts fucking you, he fucks you rough. The hand he has in you hair pushes your face ruthlessly into the musty sheets of the motel as he pounds mercilessly into you. The squelching sound is obscene and the bed creaks and slams loudly against the wall with each of his thrusts.

Your drool seeps past the thin fabric of your ruined underwear mixing with tears and snot into the rough weave of the covers and your fingers claw desperately, catching into snapping threads. Your muffled moans are desperate, stuck at the back of your throat, coming out closer to sobs as you struggle for breath. Each time his teeth sinks into your flesh a sharp cry escapes you and his attention to your clit intensifies.

You’d already been so close just with his tongue and between the ecstasy of his fingers and the ruthlessness of his cock, he brings you over the edge repeatedly, your cunt twitching around him.

When he’s over with you, his seed hot against your back and your thighs, he simply slaps your ass one last time and leaves without uttering a word.

So when Bartolomeo sees you in that house on top of the hill, chatting and laughing along with your crew, bite marks and bruises still fresh on your skin, he can’t fucking believe it. And when his beloved Luffy-senpai introduces you as a member of the crew he can feel the blood draining from his face and he can’t help but reconsider his decisions of the past night.

FUCK I really should make this a full fic… adds it to the WIP list

[taylormarieee]

Drunkenly Yours Drew Starkey

Summary: You and Drew go out and you get drunk and he confesses...

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: None, Just pure fluff, Mentions of Alcohol, Slightly Sober Drew, Drunk reader, Confessions, Kissing, Sweet ending.

A/N: This is a second fic dedicated to @ribbonprincess for her birthday! shhhh i'm a lil behind but love you beautiful<333

BIRTHDAY FIC 2/2

You and your cast members went out for drinks tonight. You are celebrating because you just finished filming season 3. You played as Rafe's love interest and supposed savior.

You got really close with Drew more than anything given the amount of scenes you guys had together. Granted you grew close with everyone on the cast, Drew was your favorite but of course you would never admit that.

You guys went to a little mini bar by your apartment complex that you all lived in, (Seperate floors and rooms of course) and you guys got all dressed up.

You were met by some paparazzi and some fans on the way out of your hotel but you guys didn't mind as you guys weren't in any rush. You all took pictures and posed and even signed things if asked.

Once that was over you all got into the car and drove away. You guys listened to music and jammed the whole way there.

Once you guys arrived at your destination, you are so excited yet nervous at the same time.

You loved going out but it was always hard especially when the love of your life was always going to be there and always suggesting to go out.

"Drew! Put me down!" you scream out while laughing as your conversation with Madelyn about something was interrupted.

"Nope, no can do peaches, gotta make sure you don't get your princess shoes dirty." Drew whispered in your ear.

You nervously giggled holding on to him tighter. He holds you in his(Big, handsome, strong and sexy) arms for a little longer while Chase confirms the reservation for tonight.

Once you guys were in, Drew finally put's you down. "M'lady." he says as he bows in front of you to let you walk first. "Hm. Thank you kind sir." You say in the best british accent you can muster up.

He chuckles and you giggle as you walk closer to Chase and put your arms around Chase.

"Hey bunny." He says to you wrapping his hands around your waist and furrowing up your hair.

"Heyyy! I told you not to call me that anymore Chase!" you say puffing your bottom lip out and stomping your foot down.

"Ok fine, then should I call you thumper? You do know how much you act like a bunny right?" He says laughing.

You punch his arm and sit down in the booth that the waitress guided you guys too.

Your in front of Chase but next to you is Drew. You look up at him and admire him as he sits down and takes his order.

The waitress is going down the line of your cast mates before she finally get's to you.

You give her your order which is the same as Madelyn's. She was your best friend, you could talk to her about anything. She was like a sister to you.

She was the only one out of the entire cast that knew you liked Drew. You didn't exactly tell her she kind of figured it out on her own.

She was a bit of an observer and she would watch how much chemistry (as she likes to call it) you and Drew had on certain scenes, or just being together in general.

You loved Drew, you could say it a million times and it would never sound like a lie.

Drew was the best person in your life right now. Yes, you had Maddy but there was something about Drew that just made everyday a better day when you were with him. Everyday was never dull when you were with Drew. It was filled with happiness and fun.

"Alright guys. I don't know about yall but i'm trying to get hella wasted." You say and everyone starts laughing and aggreeing.

"Wait but someone needs to stay sober to get us all home." Madison says.

"1 2 3! NOT IT!" Everyone except Drew says. "You guys are doing this like i'm not the one that drove you all here in the first place." He says chuckling at everyones childish behaviour.

"Drinks on me?!" You yell going up to the bar while you guys are waiting on the food.

"Bet!" Jonathan and Rudy say at the same time before bursting out laughing. You laugh and scoot out of the booth after Drew gets up.

"Hey I'll come with you, can't hold all those drinks yourself girl." Madelyn says.

You smile at her as you both walk away to the bar to get 12 shots of tequila.

'So, when are you gonna tell him?" Madelyn asks. Your head immediately spins towards her and your eyes are wide.

"Uhmm ha, real funny Mads, i'm not doing that." You say turning back to all the dancing people.

"But this could be your only chance to tell him!" Madelyn says. You look back at her.

"Oh really, and how do you suppose I actually grow the balls to do it. Plus, this is supposed to be a fun, calm night with all of us together. Celebrating season 3 of Outer Banks. I don't wanna embarrass myself on this wonderful night in front of everyone." You say to her before the waiter comes around with your drinks.

"Hey, can we also get some beers please and thank you!" Madelyn says to prolong this conversation. The waiter nods and smiles at you both.

"But, what if I made a plan? Created like a diversion maybe? Like idk invite evryone to dance but then you keep Drew waiting and then you guys talk for a bit." She suggests with a smile on her face.

"Yea that could work, but you know how much drew loves to dance." You say already taking a shot or two.

It's as if a lightbulb appeared over Maddy's head the way her face lit up. "What if, you get so wasted that you confess to him. I'll still let everyone go dance once we get enough shots in us and then you can confess to him." She says taking two shots with you as well.

You face screws up but before you can say anything Madelyn speaks, "Yea that decision is final." She says with a smile on her face before bringing the shots towards the table.

You smirk and shake your head before grabbing the beers that the waiter passed towards you.

When you make it back to the table people are already taking shots and interacting. Everyone seems a lot more loose now and more livid.

"WHO WANTS BEER!" You yell over the music so they can hear you. They cheer and so does the crowd, but there cheering for a different reason.

You pass out some beers to everyone and then chug down some shots.

Your a lot more loose now that your tipsy and you feel like doing something spontaneous.

You walk over to the bar and stand on the table with the permission of the waiter and he helps you up since your in high heel black boots.

"I have an announcement to make my fellow partyers! ALL DRINKS ARE ON MEE!!!" You yell out and everyone starts cheering and you pop open a bottle of champagne filling everyone's cups.

You ask the waiter for a couple beers and tell him that everything is gonna be on your tab. He smiles at you and nods.

You hand beers to people in the crowd and your taking more shots. Your turnt now. Dancing on the table still and then hoping down to dance in the crowd.

Your dancing when you feel a hard chest behind you and hands on your hips. You don't even look to see who it is and you start grinfing and dancing on them with a shot glass in your hand.

You dance on this perosn for about five minutes before you turn around and put your arms around there neck. You open your eyes and realize it's Drew.

Your eyes widen and you lightly push off him muterring a sorry.

"Your hype aren't you?" He asks with a smirk on his face. Your face is hot now and you can't control the smile that appears o your face.

"Even though your drunk you still look so adorable." He says putting his hands back on your hips and bringignyou closer to him.

Drew has been teasing you like this all night. You just wanted to tell him how you feel. You wanted to say it so badly that your throat was burning and not just from the alcohol.

"Hey Drew!?" You say his name so lovely that he melts. "Yes princess?" He replies.

"I'm in love with you. I've loved you for a while now and I just never had the courage to say it. I know i'm like really fucking drunk right now but I'm so in love with you it makes my heart hurt! Everytime I see you I get butterflies in my stomach. I love you Drew Starkey, I always have." You say dancing slowly with him.

He stares at you with a goofy lopsided smile on his face.

"Hey, I'm still sober but i'm a bit tipsy and I heard everything you said and my input on that is I love you too. Not platonically but romantically. I've thought about you all the time. It was like love at first sight. I fell in love with you from day 1 and I wanna be the one that is in your life forever. Will you make me the happiest man on earth and be my girlfriend?" He confesses.

You smile so much that your cheeks hurt. You feel like crying! You shake your head yes and grab his face and kiss him. You kiss him so hard he's stumbling back a bit but he catches himself.

He slips his tongue between your lips and you both kiss passionately on the dance floor.

You hear cheering behind you and you see Chase and Madelyn and the rest of the cast cheering for you and Drew.

Some others who are most likely fans are recording the moment as well.

Today was a good night. You finally got your prince and you were going to make sure you guys had your happily ever after...

Taglist: (?)

[samandcolbyownme]

Based off of this snippet, part one is right here.

Warnings: SMUT18+, unprotected threesome, creampie, oral (fem giving & rec), consensual recording/photographing, onlyfans!reader x Solby, swearing, choking, biting, hair pulling, just filth

Word Count: little over 2k | unedited

Please read part one, I’ll give ya a kiss 💋

You gave Colby a glance, his thumb stroking along your leg as he nods. You set you glass down and lean forward towards the blonde across from you, “So Sam..”

“So, y/n?” He tilts his head, leaning in towards you, “What’s up?”

You tilt your head, “Have you seen the comments on my recent Instagram post?”

He shakes his head, “I have not, no.”

Colby hands Sam his phone and your eyes focus on him, watching how his body tenses up as he reads over the comments that mention him.

He hands Colby his phone back and looks at you, “I can’t sit here and say that I don’t want to.”

“That’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.” You blurt out, “I know you know that we do the whole, OnlyFans, thing. I also know.” You look up at him, “That you could go anywhere else when we’re filming, or just fucking around, but you don’t.”

You lick your lips and smirk as Colby leans forward, “Say it, baby. Tell him what you want.”

Sam’s focus is on you, “Yeah, baby.” He smirks, “Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me, too.”

Sam smirks, chewing on his lip as he nods, “I can do that.”

“We also don’t have to re-“ You’re cut off by Sam, “Y/n, sweetheart. Colby gave me the whole rundown, but I will do whatever you want me to do.”

Sam’s words made you wet and Colby could tell by your thighs tensing and pressing together under his hand.

He chuckles, “I think dinner is also done.” He looks from Sam to you then back, “You’re getting her going already, Sam.” Colby gives your thigh a squeeze, leaning in, “I can’t wait to watch him fuck you.”

You whimper at his words and he presses his lips to yours, “Hold on baby, just a little bit longer, okay?”

You nod, letting out a sigh as you look up at Sam, who immediately puts a smirk on your face, “Who sent you the screenshot from my page?”

He tilts his head, “Promise you won’t get mad?”

You roll your eyes, “Please, whoever took it paid me for it so.”

Sam’s face drops, “Wait? They paid money to see that?” Colby chuckles, “I had the same reaction at first, but just wait until you bend her over.”

Sam’s cheeks heat up, along with yours as luckily, the waitress brings the bill over which means you can pay and get the hell back to the hotel.

——

“Fuck.” Sam groans as you bite down on his neck, continuing to walk backwards with the guidance of his hands on your hips, “I can’t wait be between those legs.”

Sam mumbles as he slides his hands up to roughly cup your cheeks, “..to fucking taste you.” He crashes his lips on yours and you reach up to pull your dress off your shoulder but Colby stops you, “Wait baby, let me get your camera before you do that.”

You look over at him, nodding as you watch him bend down to get out the camera and tripod.

San continues to kiss down your neck, whispering in your ear, “I stayed home because I love to listen to those pretty sounds you make for Colby.”

You moan at his words and his hands slide up and down your arms, “And when you’re doing stuff to yourself.” He hums lowly, “Thought about just coming over there and getting it over with.”

You moan at his words, “Fuck, Sam.” You pull him in by his neck and kiss him, “I need you so bad.”

“Whenever you’re ready, baby.” Colby gives the go ahead and your hands are instantly tearing away at his shirt, his hands moving to free your boobs from the hug of your dress, “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

He pushes your dress down over your body and kisses up your thighs. Your hand goes to the back of his head as he grows closer to your naked cunt.

You didn’t wear panties on purpose, and Colby made it a point, more or less to get Sam comfortable quicker, “Fuckin’ slut. Not wearing any panties.”

Colby clicks his tongue, “It’s like you wanted this to happen, didn’t ya, sweetheart?”

You whimper out as you nod your head, “Yes.”

“You gonna be a slut for me, baby, huh?” Sam lifts your leg, placing it to hook over his shoulder. Your lips part as you watch Sam below you, “Yes, baby. I’ll be a slut for you.”

He leans in, slipping his tongue against your clit and you gasp, fingers fighting around his hair, “F-fuck.” You whimper, feeling his hands pull you towards him more.

You stand on your tip toe, reaching out to put your hand on the wall for support as his tongue slips between your folds, “S-Sam, oh, f-fuck.”

“Does that feel good, baby?” Colby asks as he moves closer to get a better shot as Sam on his knees for you.

“So good.” You breathe out, pulling Sam’s hair, which earns a groan from him. He pulls his head back, standing up to walk you backwards.

Your back barely hits the bed before Sam’s tongue is pushing between your folds fully, causing you to arch your back, “Oh my god, yesyesyes.”

You look down at him, brows furrowed as you feel close already, “F-fuck.” You moan out loudly, “Don’t stop! S-Sam, fuckfuck.”

“Cum’in already, baby? You just have been so needy tonight, huh?” Colby shows your face to the camera as he brushes hair from it, “Look at me, baby.”

You opened your eyes, moaning out as Sam guides you through the end of your high.

“Sam making you feel good, baby?” Colby asks, leaning back to watch you from under the camera. You nod, “I’d feel better if I had you, too, daddy.”

Colby groans as he brings the camera back to show you undoing his pants, “Fuck, baby. Anything you want.”

You glance down as Sam pulls away, and Colby hands Sam the camera, “You have the best angle.” Sam nods, taking the camera as he looks at you, “You taste so fucking good, y/n.”

You bite your lip, smirking as you feel the head of his cock tap against your clit, “Turn so your head is at the edge of the bed for me.”

Colby moves, standing up to watch you lay down. He looks down at you and you smirk up at him, hand reaching to pull his jeans down as you whine, “Colby.”

He smirks down at you, biting his lip at he glances up to watch Sam’s cock slip inside of you. Sam records himself pushing into you slow, groaning out, “Fuck, you feel even better.”

“Sam.” You whimper, “P-please move.” You beg as your eyes land on Colby’s cock. He kneels down on the bed and you lift your head, eagerly welcoming the tip between your lips.

You moan around him as Sam’s thrusts speed up, eyes fluttering shut as Colby pushes your head up and down on his cock, earning a gag from you when he pushes down a little too far.

“Fuck.” Colby’s grip tightens on your hair, “How’s she feel, Sam?”

Sam groans in response, pushing his cock all the way into your pulsating cunt, “The best pussy I have ever fucking come into contact with.”

You moan as Colby lifts your head, “She’s a fucking beauty, just like I told you.” Colby bends down, hand moving to your throat as his lips move to yours, “Being such a good girl for us.”

You whimper, an arm moving around his neck as he moves to crouch on the floor by your head, watching as Sam continues to fuck you, “Doin’ so fucking well.”

He turns your head, kissing your lips as Sam’s thrusts slow down. Colby pulls away and looks at Sam, “Where do you want her?”

“I want her taking both of us.” Sam smirks, leaning down to kiss you. Colby takes the camera from Sam and his hands immediately find your body, gripping and squeezing.

Colby sets the camera up to angle at all three of you before moving to lay under you. You moan loudly, arching your back against his chest as you feel him sleep into your pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet.” Colby whispers, groaning as you roll your hips under the touch of his fingers on your clit.

Sam moves to in between your legs, hands resting on your knees as he watches Colby’s cock go in and out if you at your own pace, “Fuck.” Sam spits into his hand, groaning lowly as he coats his cock with it.

“You want Sam in your pussy, too, baby? Want us both to fill you?” Colby asks, sliding his hands to your thighs. You nod, gasping and moaning out as you feel Sam’s cock trying to squeeze into you with Colby’s.

You moan louder the further in he gets, the pain quickly becoming pleasure as Colby’s fingers start drawing circles on your clit, “Relax, baby. Doing so well.”

Sam leans over and grab the camera before getting into a steady rhythm with Colby.

The feeling and knowing they’re stretching you has you already in the brink of orgasm. You squeeze your walls, arching your back as you let out a loud string of moans, “Fuckfuck fuck!”

“Let it out, baby. Tell us how good you feel.” Sam groans, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum soon.” He grips your hip with his hand that isn’t holding the camera and Colby tightens his arm around your shoulders, “I’m already there, and she is too.”

He pecks your cheek and you moan, spilling over into the pleasure. You moan even louder when you feel their grip on you tighten and their cocks twitch in unison.

Sam leans back, still keeping his cock into you and you whimper as you feel him slip out after getting the camera shot.

You gasp as Colby slips you up off of his cock and Sam groans, “Look at how messy you are.” Sam drags cum back up and pushes it back inside of you, “Fuck.”

After a few seconds, he stops recording and helps you sit up, moving off of Colby so he can stand, “I’m going to start the shower.”

You nod and look at Sam, “Well, how was it?” He wraps his arms around you and nods, “You have no fucking idea.”

You smile and stand up, arms still around him, “You could have asked sooner, you know.”

He scoffs, “Well I didn’t, but now I do.”

——

The next day after uploading that video, you woke up to everyone’s comments being blown up, “They know.” You mumble as you scroll through your comments, “Apparently I’m fucking both of you because I can.”

You laugh and Colby lays a hand on your ass as he leans over to look, “I mean, that’s kind of right. Partially.”

“It was bound to happen at some point, I mean, come on. Look at her.” Sam motions to you and you smirk, “Thank you.”

You go back to reading and you can’t help but giggle at some of the cute but funny ones.

I bought the video, okay. And let me tell you, the way they look at her… fuck I need that in my life

Y/n is seriously THAT girl

Who else came from their web browsers?

I literally love this girl, like yes girl. Fuck them both!!

Ok nah, now she’s just BRAGGING

“Did you bring any of your outfits?” Colby asks and you roll over to face him, glancing at Sam, “I may have brought one or two..”

“Get them.” Colby nods and you get out of bed, walking over to get the outfits from your suitcase, and before you even hold them up, Sam makes a choice, “School girl.”

You smirk, looking from Sam to Colby. Colby smirks, shrugging his shoulders, “I guess school girl it is.”

——

Surprise! I hope this was up to your standards! Please let me know how you liked it! Love you tons! Thank you for reading!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[bitin-and-barkin]

Intertwined Fingers

What would the aftermath of your so called death look like?

Warnings: Arthur Morgan x Reader, Gender neutral reader, he's going a bit insane ngl, implied self harm, dog symbolism, smut, fun fact: Pomade was commonly used as lube in the 1800s, Dom reader, sub Arthur, soft sex (I finally did the soft sex thing), No mentions of your genetalia, you just jerk off Arthur because you wanted to take care of him tonight, sorry probably not what the people were looking for but its fine, weirdly described sex to the point where it's not even porn, just an art piece, more yandere shit in the next part but you can smell the start of it here, overuse of the word Intertwined

READ MORE UNDER THE CUT + Pt 2 to another story, Pt 1 here

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That night in the hotel room, Arthur sheepishly asked if he could stay with you for the night.

You, of course, accepted.

After climbing into bed, he couldn't keep his hands off of you.

Well, he usually can't, always clinging to you like a koala bear. But especially not tonight.

Rubbing his hands up and down your chest. Feeling the grooves in your skin. The curves and marks. Wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

Making sure all of his touches were gentle, as not to cause you pain.

Feeling your stomach rise and fall as you slept peacefully. Hearing your heartbeat.

Still softly sobbing, keeping it quiet so you could sleep, not daring to let go.

He felt like sinking into you in that moment.

For the first time in ages, Arthur slept peacefully. He could sleep for ages with your hands intertwined with his.

When you tried to get up in the morning, he pretended to be asleep so you'd stay with him for longer. When you tried to get up anyways?

He pretty much begged you to stay with him.

You ended up laying in bed for another hour before you finally were able to leave.

While taking you back to camp you told him about the doctors. How you already went to the one in Valentine, but they could only do so much.

He said he was gonna get a doctor to come here and properly check you out again, as he knew one that owed him some favors.

Worries of discreetness be damned.

Once you had gotten back to camp, people stared at you like they were looking at a ghost.

In fact, Sean fainted when he first saw you. They thought you were dead.

You even looked the part.

Hours had passed and it was sundown. Arthur had brought in a doctor named "Alphonse Renaud." By now, he had been in there for hours, Arthur right by his side.

His hands were soaked in blood, helping the doctor deal with everything they did to you.

The sick fucks had put nails in your legs.

Nails.

Your back was ripped to shreds, with some marks looking even like they came from whips.

They were irritated too, and Dr. Renaud guessed that they had poured whiskey into your wounds.

He was wondering how you managed to let him hold you the night before without wincing and whining out in pain.

Just imagining how much pain you must've been in, when he thought that he needed to hold you?

How much pain you must've been in when he was asking you on the ride back home if you felt okay?

He felt like the worst shit on earth.

Alphonse estimated you'd live a lifetime of numbness and pain on certain, scarred parts.

At least you weren't in pain right now.

You were currently passed out from Morphine after Arthur yelled at Swanson to help alleviate your pain, when he heard you whimper as the doctor worked.

He silently cried into his hands next to your bedside after he heard your shallow breaths.

He was scared. So fucking scared.

A 3 days passed, with Arthur watching your every movement like a hawk. He was around you 24/7. All other priorities just seemed to fade into the background.

You were fading in and out of consciousness. Going through fevers and hot flashes, scaring everybody at camp.

Whenever you were awake, you seemed to be in a trance. Muttering about things that weren't there, unable to recognize anybody. Not even your husband.

Arthur hadn't slept in that time either. Afraid that if he looked away for one second, the O'Driscolls would swoop up and take you away from him again.

He didn't even think of letting Kieran near you, your horse, or the tent you were in.

He got antsy when you got home, gaining an even shorter fuse to match. Doing everything to make the place more comfortable for you. Cleaning your bedsheets, changing your bandages. Gently talking to you about his day and asking about yours while you were asleep, that way if you woke up you wouldn't wake up alone.

Hosea insisted he needed rest. But every single time he went to bed, he couldn't sleep. Wracked with anxiety. Knowing you were just 15 feet away, safe and sound in your tent, yet still wondering where you were.

Wondering where his darling was.

He snuck into your tent later that night and sat down next to you. Coming down here just to make sure you were still breathing.

Watching your chest rise, your breaths were still as shallow as ever.

He had just gotten you back and he was already losing you again.

And with his coddling and touching, he had only made it worse.

He'd give anything to go back to the way things were.

Before you went on that shitty sniping job, god, what in fucking hell made Dutch think that was a good idea?

He'd give up all his things. He'd kill every O'Driscoll known to man. He'd break his own legs. He'd trade places with you. He'd kill himself.

Just for you to be okay.

He reached down, tracing his finger against scars that weren't there before.

He started talking softly to your sleeping body,

Saying how later he'll take you to the city and get you anything you want. He'll take you out dancing, or to the saloon, or to one of those new picture shows if you feel up to it.

How later he'll shoot Colm for what he did. Make his death slow, make him feel every ounce of pain you did. Doubled. He'll make Colm beg for mercy, then leave him to rot to death in some shithole.

How later, if that stupid Tahiti dream ever becomes realized, he'll settle down with you. Have a kid or two if you feel like it. As long as he can raise them with you.

Only you. Nobody but you.

How later, he'll build a mansion for you and you'd never have to be afraid of anyone hurting you ever again.

How he's so sorry that you had to come find him.

That you'd kill him if you died.

He heard the bed creak as he nervously chatted on and on.

Felt your fingers intertwining with his.

He turned to you, smiling.

You had awoken, and reached out to him.

He tucked your hair behind your ear.

There you were.

For the first time in a long time you were coherent. Aware. Unafraid.

And for the first time in a long time, you saw him clearly.

He took your hand and raised it to his lips, gently kissing your bruised knuckles. Asking how you felt as he did.

He looked... tired.

There were scrapes on his palms and hands, deep cutting scars. Going up and along his wrists and forearms.

Now that you think about it, when you first saw him again, his sleeves were rolled down.

He never rolled them down.

There were new gashes on his face. Along his lips and jaw. He was starting to look like John.

His cheeks were gaunt, and he had deep eyebags. As if they've been festering for months.

His hair was longer, a bit tangled too.

You're used to him being so broad, and while he still, is he looks almost underweight.

You took your other hand and reached up to his cheek, gently stroking it.

He leaned into your touch. He looked exhausted.

God, What had happened while you were gone?

He was resting his face on your hand as he held your other.

You gripped his jaw and pulled him close, softly placing a kiss on his lips.

And placing his free hand on yours, he returned it.

Bodies intertwining like a jigsaw puzzle.

He tried to pull away, wanting to give you air, but you pulled him even closer.

God, you were gonna be the death of him.

He pushed his hands under your shirt,

with you hastily undoing his belt.

Whispering to you,

"Darling, you're so pretty it hurts."

Pushing you to the bed,

placing kisses on your scars.

You pulled your hand away and placed them on his jeans, groping him through his pants.

His head whipped back, letting out a shaky moan.

Whimpering something unintelligible.

You were toying with his tits through his shirt.

Biting down, leaving hickeys along his neck.

Continuing to grope his dick, making him sport a tent in his pants.

And just looking into his eyes, and he had the look of a kicked puppy.

Just begging for you to properly touch him.

Unzipping his fly, his dick sprung out. Slapping against his stomach.

No wonder he had that look in his eyes. He'd follow you like a dog, and worship you like god. At least, it looked like he wanted to tonight.

You took his dick in your hand, pumping him up and down. Pressing your forehead against his, telling him to just relax, that you wanted to take care of him. Helping him take his shirt off as he whispered "Are you sure?" Asking you if you felt well enough to do this.

His breath hitching, he fumbled to untie his bandana before resorting to just rip the thing off entirely.

Peeling off his shirt just to feel you more. To touch you, as you pulled him close. Asking him to tell you just how much he missed you as pre-cum seeped out of his dick, slicking your palm.

You pulled forward and gently kissed his collarbone, licking your free hand and playing with his chest as you stroked him at a steady pace.

Biting down on his neck, his flesh soft between your teeth.

Only yours though. Only yours.

He slotted his head into your shoulder, and began to mumble, kissing your neck up and down.

Cradling your head in his palm.

Running his fingers across your bones, licking stripes against healed wounds.

To whimper and to whine, just like he did the day before.

Like a dog doing all the tricks it knew.

Fucking like two instruments playing in tune.

His eyes were glossed over, his hot breath puffing like smoke, and his words weren't making any sense anymore.

The sensual turning the sexual into the unintelligible, just repeating over and over,

I love you,

I love you,

I love you.

People in camp always talked shit about Arthur, how he was "Van Der Linde's Bitch." His dog, broken in like a wild horse. Obedient, pliable, perfect. But they're giving credit to the wrong man.

It was all you. Only you, Only you.

He arched back on the bed, crying your name as he came. His seed splattering across his stomach, into your hands.

Begging you not to leave him ever again.

Not even once,

Not even once,

Not even once.

Pleasure sparked behind his eyelids like a gunshot.

You hushing him with silent kisses, telling him to quiet down.

Letting him rut and sputter into your hands like putty until he finally came completely undone, and the only noise was his labored breathing, panting.

His hands trailed up your thighs, eager to return the favor. But you gingerly grabbed his palms and brought them up to your lips.

Oh so gently kissing his knuckles, just like he did for you.

His eyes were still red from crying. Months of grief released in a week.

You pulled his face close, kissing him on the cheek.

Pulling him down into bed, slotting your hips in between his.

Sleeping together,

with your hands intertwined.

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Should I keep this story going???

@s: @yyiikes