#please just give me this 🙏🏽

[casmustdiee]

okokok HEAR ME OUT‼️ ninjago headcanon jumpscare‼️‼️

maybe it’s because little nine year old me insisted and making the ninja hispanic (istg there was no rep and I HAD TO DO WHAT I COULD TO MAKE MYSELF HAPPY 🥲) and while now i definitely have diff hcs for their races/ethnic backgrounds, i can’t not think of cole as dominican. tell me this man isn’t dominican. like that’s where he gets his dark BEAUTIFUL skin from. (this man is gorgeous to me i swear) i like to think that lily was a proud dominicana and lou was italian- not sure why italian but he’s always given me italian vibes 💀 but just imagine cole gets really frustrated and just yells out some spanish phrases in a dominican accent because while he was too young to learn the full language, he did grasp a lot of it and the accent from lily 😭

*ninja, peacefully going about their day*

cole, out of nowhere, muffed-ly heard throughout the entire monestary: PUÑETA HIJO DE PUTA

edit: it just hit me i used puñeta instead of coño but tbh he’d used both 💀

[spydertrans]

reblogging that Mrs. Holiday post had me thinking... a lot of people speculate on what her name might be - Carol, Comet, Clarice, etc.

what if her name is just Christmas. Christmas Holiday, her full, government name. have we considered that. no subtlety, no puns, just. Christmas Holiday.

[kenmakaashi]

i just know I find gun’s mom especially hot in this episode 5 part 4/4 cause she looks latina

[screampied]

could you please please pleaseeee do a fic where instead of the gojo winning, hes way too needy and the reader wins while fight fucking in missionary like your previous fic….my ego took a hit with that one 🙏🏽

❤︎ ໋𓈒 making gojo eat his words and he becomes a whiney embarrassed mess + first part

warnings. fem! reader, missionary, cowgirl, whiney gojo, overstim, praise, dirty talk, mdni.

“still…won’t shut up, huh. figures,” he grumbles, sliding a hand down your tummy to drag out a whine from you. he was reaching you deep—your legs dangled and jerked from each thrust he’s presenting you. you put a hand in his face as an attempt to shut him up but he grabs it with quick reflexes, chuckling before playful long nibbling on your finger. “don’t try to shut me up. that’s rude.”

you let off a moan, his thickness forever buried into you and it nearly took your breath away. you glare before grumbling a, “you shut up. don’t tell me what to do.”

“i just did,” he whispers, his hips thwack and thwack against you to where your ears ring, lips parting slightly and he leans up close to your ear before slowly sucking on your finger. “i can do this alllll day, princess. you’re just gonna tire yourself o—”

he halts, his breath getting abruptly caught in his throat before you feel gojo twitch, and he lets off a whine before you feel him start to pour a few ropes of cum inside of you. you feel warm, and he completely forgets what he’s about to say.

“you were saying?” you raise your brows, and he’s taken aback once you make your way on top of him, and gojo’s back thrashes against the pillow.

“got some nerve…pinning me down,” he pants, staring at you. you observe his body, droplets of sweat racing down his v-line. gojo’s swollen cock remained deep inside you as you sat upright, playfully creating a few grind movements with your hips. “f-fuck, just ‘cause ‘m sensitive doesn’t mean you won.”

you lean up close to gojo, kissing near the corner of his glossed lips before grinning — slowly and teasingly spreading his arms apart.

he moans from the simplicity of your touch before you whisper, “yes it does. you just don’t wanna admit,” and then you realign yourself, staring down at a panting, out of breath, ruffled hair gojo before simpering. “i know how to make you admit it though.”

“hmpf. how.” he grumbles, contorting his eyebrows before hesitatingly, he brings a hand towards your waist. the smallest pout spreads against his lips before he gawks into your eyes, and oh how flustered he was.

“remember what you told me last time?” you giggle, sneaking a kiss near his chin. “don’t worry about it.”

gojo groans from your soft lips making contact against his skin each time. you drove him crazy, however…

the very moment you started to move your hips against him, riding him he completely loses it. more and more breaths get caught in his throat, and he gives your left hip a tight squeeze and his head throws back. “r-riding me after i cum, fuckin’ brat. you’re so—”

you roll your eyes, leaning in to silence your boyfriend with a kiss. gojo’s muffled moans slither its way into your mouth, and he’s stuck in a ecstasy filled trance the sheer second your pussy grips down against him so firmly.

he was still heavily sensitive, such deep rushes getting to him. you ran your tongue against his in a smooth fashion before you feel gojo whine, sucking against your tongue and he doesn’t even realize it. he trails a hand from your waist to your ass, greeting it with a mean smack to make you moan into his mouth.

still some sorts of brat in him, he found his own eyes starting to roll back into the very depths. he’s chasing his breath as if it was some sort of race, some sort of competition.

he couldn’t get enough of your syrupy sweet taste, gliding his tongue against your upper lip, then your tongue — even the corner of your mouth. whenever gojo was like this, straight after cumming his brains out, by all means was he a messy kisser. momentarily, you pull away and slow your hips down.

“why are you—why are you stopping?” he stammers, and he genuinely sounds needy. no attitude in sight. your cunt was stuffed with a few ropes of his cum, and you felt the mess it created.

his dick twitched inside you from each time you moved against him. “you want me to finish? just admit it, baby.”

“…god, i hate you,” he whines, his bottom lip quavering. the sting, the sugared sting of overstim made him swallow his pride for a brief moment before he huffs out a breath. gojo gives you a glare before lowly sighing. “…finish fucking me.”

“sorry?”

“finish… fucking me.” he mumbles, darting his eyes away.

“can’t understand you when you mumble,” you jokingly tease, bringing a hand down to touch yourself…just a little more teasing. gojo’s eyebrows press in together and seeing him pout out of frustration was the cutest thing. seeing him not get his way.

ironically enough, it’s his turn. after all the teasing he’s put you through.

gojo moans, starting to impatiently bounce his thigh and you intake a sharp breath from feeling him pump his way inside of you just enough for you to feel. “fuck me, f-fuck me. just hurry up. finish riding me,” and then his cerulean blue eyes reach contact towards you — following with a cunning grin. “if you can handle m—”

“you’re such a brat,” you roll your eyes, instantly making him eat his words once you start to roll your hips against him. gojo’s eyes glaze over before he bites his lip to suppress his pathetic whimpers. “but a good boy.”

“……”

he grows dead quiet, soundless before he lets off a moan once you inch closer towards his neck. peppering a soft kiss near the inner part. “can you…can you say that again?”

“say what?” you hum in a soft voice, gingerly wriggling your hips against him, you study his expressions and his jaw tightens. “brat?”

“f-fuck, no, baby the other thing.” he pants, and you giggle — slowing catching on. oh. you always forgot how gojo loved whenever you praised him. it made him feel a feeling he doesn’t even know how to explain.

you softly reply, “good boy. that’s what you wanna hear?”

“y-yeah, yeah,” he swallows, and you continued to grip and clamp down his hefty cock. the weight of his base slams back and forth against you to where he purposely grows silent just to hear the filthy noises your cunt makes. “you—you win, i don’t care anymore jus— keep, keep fucking me, please.”

[siraj2024]

Daily update(26) 🇵🇸

300 days

We live in a war of extermination and suffer forced displacement and starvation

300 days since the genocidal war The war on Gaza is not just stories, but rather the end of the stories and dreams of innocent people.

By the way, I stayed in seven places other than my home during “displacement,” and whenever anyone noticed my shyness or distress in my behavior.

He said: Consider the place like your home!

How can I explain to them that I want a “Ya” in my house, affectionate, it is the language that gives you that “Ya” of ownership.

You go on as if you own the world and everything in it!

For my home, who was displaced and killed by a plane in November 2023

I thought you would guard my home alone I let you down So you fell, my dear house!

All the places looked like my home,, but it was not my home!

A new chapter of astonishment and attempts to survive.

Note: My campaign is moving towards the second goal, 20k. Please get me to it by the end of this week 🙏🏽

My hope and dreams are on you 🙏🏽

[norrriey]

this fundraiser was messaged to me by ahmed (@anqarfamily). he has given me permission to share his story in the hope he can raise the last bit to rebuild his and his family's lives 🙏🏽💖

through so many people's generosity, he has under €10,000 left to raise! please give it one last push so he and his family can get to safety and take care of their needs.

UPDATE (09/01):

the fundraiser is now at €55,254 of €59,000!! just €3,746 left to go!!

[kissforyouu]

YAWN

pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of sex

request : Sleepy Drabble of Sanrio! Oc and JK!!!! PLEASE🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

"hmm? you're so needy when you're sleepy." jungkook hums, caressing the heel of your foot. you had your body laying horizontally on your bed, legs thrown over jungkook's torso while he massaged your feet through your cozy socks. cozy cinnamonroll socks, they were so cute.

you whine, body lazily turning to the other side and hugging one of your plushies. you yawn in the process with your eyes closed, causing your boyfriend to chuckle a little. but a sharp slap on your asscheek causes you to shriek and open them.

"ow, ow! did it hurt, my baby? want me to kiss it better? yeah?" you just whine in return, but rather in a 'get away from me, you're annoying' way. jungkook clearly gets your little signal, hence why he laughs. your boyfriend pulls you closer to him by grabbing the back of your thigh, then gently rubs your butt while cooing.

"liar. you just wanted to touch my butt."

"what! no wayy. why, hm? i just wanted to soothe your pain, my love." and then he proceeds to grab the hem of your shorts and pull them up, revealing your bare asscheeks. he lets go of the material then, watching the flesh bounce back.

"pervert."

your boyfriend hums, laying his cheek on your ass. "i could fall asleep like this."

"you just like my shorts. so much that you had to jerk off to it— what the fuck jungkook!" jungkook giggles at your little yell, nose buried in between your cheeks. "i'm gonna eat you."

"ew, no, no, no!" you squirm in your spot, wiggling your body while trying to get your man off of you. in the middle of it, you land into a pit of giggles. you were repeatedly slapping jungkook, literally anywhere you could reach. his shoulders, pecs, thighs, abs, face! jungkook was hurting, obviously, your slaps were never gentle. they were always brutal.

"ugh! ow, ow, hurts!" you push your boyfriend on the bed, climbing on top of him. you had a pillow on your hands, ready to punch the shit out of your boyfriend with it but all your plans get flushed down the toilet once jungkook starts tickling your waist. you arch your back, then bend your upper body in every single way. you were naturally so ticklish. ugh.

jungkook : 1 y/n : 0

"noooo! ahahaha! JUNGKOOOOK!" you don't even know how you ended up in this position. role reversal, jungkook was on top of you now and had your head in a headlock with your thighs. you have to opportunity to say the funniest thing right now.

"i'm gonna suck your dick."

jungkook bursts out laughing, then calms himself right away while repeatedly nodding. he begins to take his sweats off, clearly as a joke though. you immediately push him away while screaming ew, face completely melting off. you're joking. you'd suck his dick right now if he seriously told you to.

he just giggles it off, letting you do whatever to him. jungkook was lying opposite to you now, his feet near your face and yours near his.

"yuck, get those stinky feet away from me or i'm gonna make you smell mine." you scrunch your nose.

"yeah? do it." so you do. with all your force, you push your feet onto jungkook's face, giving him a taste of his own medicine. he throws his head back, that high pitched laugh you love filling the room. there's butterflies all over your stomach, your heart's fluttering. his laugh is like honey. it makes you feel like a blooming flower.

suddenly he grabs your feet, giving your heel a little kiss. "i like these nails. french tips. cute." you thank him and press your foot more into his face as a thank you (joke). but your boyfriend decides to loll his tongue out and lick your heel, causing you let out a loud loud screech.

"ack! ew, ew, ew, jungkook! do you have a foot fetish?!"

"hmm, i might." your face drops.

"whattttt? ew."

"heh, i'm joking, baby. but i'd be into anything as long as it's you. i love you." that sounded oddly romantic. you like it.

you smile sweetly, the kind that gets you all giddy and flustered. in that moment, jungkook felt like a 12 year old boy seeing his crush smile for the first time. he felt sooooooooo giddy.

"man i have the fattest crush on you."

"what? i thought you were in love with me?" you raise your eyebrow, throwing one of your plushies at him. he effortlessly catches the kuromi plushie, hugging her closer to his chest and burying his face in it. you scoot closer to him, tugging on his hair and pulling his head back.

"i'm gonna kiss you."

༺♡༻

only god knows for how long you've been kissing by now. you're giving eachother gentle pecks and kisses repeatedly and giggling in between. it was so therapeutic in a way. all you wanted was to claw his heart out and protect it forever. don't know if that was a really intense way to put it though but mmkayy >.< .

jungkook pulls away for a moment to admire your face, hair messy and lip gloss messed up really bad. he wipes away a few strands of your bangs and kisses your forehead gently. stop. you're so giddy. jungkook proceeds to trace your lips while humming in satisfaction. your lips were puffy and glossy from all the kissing, covered in his spit. he pulls on your lower lip, then watches it bounce back with a giggle.

you let out a long sleepy hum, batting your eyelashes as you hugged your boyfriend. your body laying on his chest, inhaling in the sweet scent of his body odor. "hmm?" he hums. you turn your head to the side, cheek resting against his pec as you yawned. "eepy."

jungkook cracks out a laugh once again, "eepy? you're eepy?". you nod your head in verification, snuggling in closer. your hand sneaks under his shirt, touching his hardened abs. jungkook shivers at the feeling of your nails scratching against his skin. you glide your fingers upwards and finally land on his pec (tit) and groping it afterwards. jungkook didn't utter a word about this, just a small snort. he was used to this. he doesn't know why you always resort to holding his tits pecs at the randomest moments.

"mmh, i need you."

"yeah? want me to fuck you?"

you slap his chest, shaking your head in disapproval. "not...," you yawn, "...right now. tomorrow morning you can fuck me really good, mkay?"

"shit, how could you just say that so innocently?" jungkook groans, fingers massaging your scalp gently. you smile sleepy, cooing, body fully relaxed under your boyfriend's touch. "i want to crawl inside your skin. i want to be inside you. i wannttt you. mhm, kook, i love you so much."

jungkook swore he fell in love for the second time again when you said that. your voice was so drownsy and your words came out almost incoherent and inaudible. he just wanted to hold you close to his heart forever and keep you there. to jungkook, you were like a small flower. he's not sure whether he's mentioned this before but, you're like a small little flower who's petals could easily be blown off any moment so he has to protect you and keep you within the range of his sight at all costs so your petals won't get blown off. that's probably an exaggeration tho, hm. he just loved you sooo much.

"i love you more, baby. goodnight."

he kisses the top of your head and gives you more space to get more comfortable on his body. jungkook yawns, stretching both his arms out and then placing his left hand on your back, rubbing up and down. his free hand reaches over to your nightstand to turn down the my melody night lamp you had turned on earlier. he retreats his hand back to your body, placing it on your head, brushing through your hair strands because he knows it soothes you.

he couldn't get enough of you.

.

taglist : @fungie2332 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-txt @kooreo @rrosiitas @goldenjeonkoo @lil-cherry01 @diamondjeon

[moondirti]

(first time doing a ask bare with me)

pretty please a continue of the house distribution thing. the fic where she does military housing to afford rent. just a continuation please 🙏🏽

feel free to skip if your mind is just blank with ideas for it x

simon riley / afab! reader • part one cw: dubcon, intoxication, spanking, wedgies, degradation, dacryphilia, very mild puppy play (mostly just pet names)

"Well, aren' you a sight."

Much like the lamplight, his voice is low. Mocking, almost. You'd think he were amused if it weren't for the dangerous way his eyes assess your sorry state, raking the lines of your bare legs to the way your dress wraps tight around your chest. It almost escapes you that he's maskless at first, so entranced by the glint of his pupils, the shadowed irises that pinch a deep, very primal nerve in you.

His lips curl into an uneven sneer, scar dissecting the bottom and running down to his chin. You wipe your nose with the heel of your hand, giving your best attempt at an apathetic shrug.

"I had fun."

"Did'ya now?" He laughs humourlessly. "Mus' have different ideas of fun, me and you. Can' see the fun in getting pissed out'f my mind, worryin' the people in your life by stayin' out s'late."

Spite flares, fear slinking back your throat to make room for the petulance that froths on your tongue like venom. It completely poisons his admission to the fact that he'd been worried, turns it into something pathetic and hypocritical. You storm closer. Wild. Angry.

"That's fucking rich coming from you. What is your idea of fun, then, Lieutenant? Tormenting women who open up their home to you? Walking in on them in the bathroom, pissing all over the fucking seat? Does it grant you satisfaction to make people so uncomfortable that they'd rather be anywhere but with you?"

His jaw tenses, a "careful, pet." grunted under his breath, but he makes no move to stop you. Just continues sitting on your couch, legs spread, simmering. Waiting for you to tire out.

"Shut the fuck up. Oh my god. Oh my god. I can hardly be at bloody peace in my own house anymore! You're- You're... A fucking nightmare, Riley! So excuse me if I went out and enjoyed myself when I haven't been able to do so in weeks!"

By the end of your little tirade, you're an even worse mess than you had been before. Flyaways stick to your sweaty temple, mascara rims your blown eyes. Your panting does nothing to calm the frantic race of your heart, which beats at your ribcage like doldrums to war. You can feel the effects of it everywhere; your pulse, hot and quick, at your eyebrow, your wrists, the arch of your foot.

Riley stands. Your lip trembles.

You're so close now that your gaze is level with his chest. Tall. You'd forgotten how tall he was. Or how wide. Or dangerous. His biceps – bare given his tight-fitted t-shirt, tree-trunk large and enough to crush watermelons – tense, and all-too-suddenly, you find your jaw clutched in a bruising grip. He jerks your head up so your eyes meet his.

"Simon." He mutters. "But you don't get to call me tha', or anything at all but Sir."

"Letmegomff–" You're rendered mute when his thumb and forefinger press your cheeks together, but that certainly doesn't stop you from whining.

"Y'wanna know my idea of a good time?" Purely rhetorical, of course. Aside from not being able to answer him, it doesn't matter what you want. There's a clear direction this seems to be heading towards – someplace where the hand pawing your ass continues lower, or where the length in his pants fits down your throat. Someplace not unwelcome by you, despite the way you thrash and cry in his arms. "It's putting foul things like you in their place."

He shucks your dress over your ass, the fabric bunching around your waist, and hooks a fist in the waistline of your soaked panties. Your mind is so foggy, influenced by shitty tequila and the subspace Simon bullies you into embracing, that you don't process the cause of your pain immediately. Don't correlate it to the way he pulls upward, your underwear bunching into a tight line that cleaves between your ass-cheeks and rubs abrasively against your poor clit. Don't– can't confront it until the force literally picks you up off the floor, toes barely touching the ground, held up by a wedgie and the grip around your jaw alone.

Tears spring to your lash line, tracing miserable treks down your cheeks. His thumb swipes what it can away, pushing the salty water into your mouth, and stays there while you lap at his calloused fingertips.

"There we go. Look at you, brainless mutt. Jus' need something on your cunt and something in your mouth to keep you quiet, hm? Happy to hang li'e this for hours, I bet."

Your muffled yell is met with another laugh, thumb pushing deeper into your mouth to shut you up.

"Shh, I know. Still need'ta be taught a lesson. I haven' forgotten." The stitches on your panties begin to tear, the rips loud and relieving, especially when you start to sag back down to the floor. Simon doesn't take it with any kind of urgency, though he cocks his head at the way you blink up at him, lashes fanning in rapid succession. An unspoken, desperate plea. "Was gonna hold out, get you sobered up for your punishment. But you're practically itchin' for it, aren' you?"

He puppets your head into an enthusiastic nod, which he meets with a faux huff.

"Course you are." The forbearing quality of his tone is promptly betrayed by the way you're manhandled over his lap. Pivoting one hand opposite to the other, he's able to sit on the couch and get you thrown over his thighs in a mere matter of seconds. "Normally I'd make y'count, but I figure you're too far gone for that. Jus' try to keep your wailing quiet."

Your underwear gives in with a final tug, ripping from the soaked gusset to become nothing but a flimsy piece of fabric around your hips. Simon swipes the tattered remains off your raised bottom, taking longer than necessary to smooth over the area. It's all the indication you need to what's coming – his rough palm teases the nerve endings below your softer skin, bringing them to frenzied life. Preparing them to hurt.

When he breaks away, you hold your breath.

The air behind you whistles as his hand comes down.

A sharp, resounding crack fractures the baited silence of the room. Your mouth flies open. Searing pain roars across your backside like wildfire, worsening every second it's exposed to open elements. Your scream is belated, thunder to the lightening, tearing from your throat only after the initial shock subsides.

A series of lighter blows land on alternating cheeks, two fingers returning to gag you through the onslaught. Unlike his thumb, these reach the very back of your tonsils, prompting wet gags as they fondle with your throat. Drool dribbles from the corners of your lips, slicking your chin with lipstick-tinted fluid.

"Fuckin' beautiful when you're not givin' an attitude, puppy. All stupid and submissive, cunt droolin' on my lap."

You groan, choke, then cry some more when his spanks grow incrementally harsher again. Gratefully, they're never in the same place twice. He beats the top of your thighs, your lower back, the sides of your hips. Your cheeks especially, which start to emit a steady kind of heat the longer he keeps it up.

Eventually, as a matter of coping, your brain starts to consider the cruel sting as pleasurable instead, sending little bolts of pleasure directly to your clit every time his hand comes down on your ass. It swells, fattening up with blood, pressing tighter against the steady mass of his thigh. Inadvertently, you start rutting against it to find more of the same relief, humping his leg like the dog he's making you out to be.

It doesn't escape his notice, of course.

His foot pushes one of your flailing ankles outward so that your legs are spread, pussy made vulnerable to his scrutiny. The next slap is thus aimed straight at your fluttering hole, slick doing nothing to affect his deadly precision. When it lands, it lands exactly where he meant for it to, and introduces you to a whole other degree of pain that has you seeing stars. You're openly bawling around his fingers now, vision so cloudy you can't tell light from dark.

"Didn' like tha', did you?"

"Nngh– nmmph!"

"There's more where it came from, pup. Best listen to everythin' I say from now on, then, 'less you wan' your little hole beat black 'n' blue."

Simon stresses his point by tracing the seam of your cunt, collecting the lubrication there to smear across the hotspot at the top. Presses into it. Grants you a little gratification, as if to say: and here's what you can have if you behave.

"You gonna be a good pet?"

This time, he withdraws his fingers from your maw. Expects a response, even though it takes you ages to recover from the lack of oxygen. You swallow the saliva pooling behind your teeth, inhaling ragged gasps that make your lungs ache.

He pinches your clit when you take too long. Lightly, but it's enough.

"Yes! Yes, s-sir. I'll be good."

[next]

[tojipie]

Omg please please please write another fic about needy cry baby gf and Toji 😫🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

thinking abt him not realizing when he’s being mean because he grew up in a house full of boys where insults were a form of affection :( we’ve all got a little bit of crybaby reader in us me finks

content: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

────────────────────────

a sea of limbs dance and weave around the court with intricacies you won’t even pretend to understand, leaving you more confused with each passing minute.

you remind yourself that you’re here for toji, wanting to spend more time with him regardless of whether you were into the activity.

toji liked it, so you liked it. at least before the game got confusing.

“that was two points, right?” you ask him, trying to make sense of the shot a player had just made.

toji pauses, holding the chilled end of his beer can to the back of his neck.

“three, baby.” he corrects, kicking his work boots off. the older man relaxes into the soft embrace of the couch with a groan, propping his feet up on the ottoman.

“right… right.” you realize, listening as the announcer gives a rundown of what just happened. you look over and gauge his expression, searching for any acknowledgment of what you’d just said.

“sorry, not really a basketball fan.” you joke, hoping to alleviate the awkward air.

“not that smart either, huh?” toji chuckles, taking a sip of his beer.

your stomach drops at the comment. blood rushes to your ears as humiliation takes over, eyes welling up with hot tears.

you knew he was 100% joking. that’s just how toji was around the people he loved.

you were being too sensitive, right?

the two of you had discussed instances like this before, the older man explaining that that was truly just how he spoke to people.

he never meant to upset you, in fact he’d rather hang than ever hurt you on purpose. his words, not yours.

toji has promised you he was working on it, trying to choose his words more carefully around you.

that’s all it was, you tell yourself. a simple slip of the tongue.

or was he truly mad at you this time?

nope. just a joke. you tell yourself, fiddling with a loose thread in your sleeve to distract from the lump in your throat. you try to inhale around the blockage, accidentally releasing a sob that alerts toji right away.

“hey.” he mumbles, setting his drink down to look at you. calloused hands cradle your face as the older man takes a close look at you.

you pull away, trying to compose yourself. just a joke! you remind yourself.

a joke, not serious. just. a. joke.

“nonono, hey it’s okay.” he whispers, eyes blowing wide as he realizes the gravity of the situation.

“i’m sorry sweetheart, i’m sorry.” he pleads, muting the tv to focus on you.

“m’ not stupid.” you whimper, wiping each eye with the back of your hand.

“course not pretty girl.” he whispers, rubbing your back in soft circles. “i’m sorry, you know that’s j—“

“just how you talk.” you mumble, not sure if his explanation actually made it ok.

“but.” he starts, pulling you into his lap with a grunt.

“that’s not an excuse, right?” he asks you, clearly remorseful.

“need to watch my mouth around my girl, huh?” he chuckles, still rubbing small circles up and down your back.

“it’s ok.” you conclude, resting your head on his shoulder as he presses soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead.

“hate making you upset.” he tells you firmly, nuzzling into the crown of your head.

“you wanna watch something else?” he asks, placing the remote in your hand. “movie, youtube?”

you crawl out of the older man’s lap and onto the couch, pulling up prime to scan the comedy section.

“i fucking hate basketball.” you giggle, the man beside you breaking out in full blown laughter as you press play on the remote.

[sanjisblackasswife]

Can u pleaseeee do a part 2 to the nanami cam girl fanfiction 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

Part 1 Of Nanami x Cam!Girl Reader Here

Blk!Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Pervert Nanami, Nanami with a voice kink, Idk. Smut fr w some plot.

“Sssshit, yes baby….” Nanami’s voice growled from the back of his throat, his legs beginning to rise as his body tenses for a moment. His groans echoed through his empty apartment, only thing luminating his room was the lights of the city and his phone in his hand.

He threw his head back to land on the headboard, mind feeling a little fuzzy. This orgasm definitely drained him way more than any this week.

Maybe because this particular video he was using to get off was his and only for him.

“I um…i hope that was good for you Mr. Nanami.” She spoke breathlessly holding up the camera above her face as she laid on the fluffy pillows on her bed, eyes were dilated, cheeks flushed despite her skin tone, strands of hair on her forehead. She must have overworked herself this time. She did cum more than usual, as requested of him. “I never came that much, I almost feel embarrassed i couldn’t last as long as I should of.”

“You did amazing, sweetheart.” Nanami thought as she began to ramble a bit….per requested. Her voice was almost the equivalent to an angel through his ears. So soft, feminine and gentle.

Almost the polar opposite of her whiney, loud, slutty voice when she moans his name.

“I never gotten a um…private suggestion and you’ve been…so sweet with your donations I actually was able to get a new camera for it so of course I had to show you!”

“I noticed.” He thought, a faint smirk arising on his face.

“As promised though please do not share this video or post on any other platforms. Please.”

Nanami clicked off the video to give a long sign of relief. Her voice was too cute;

“Please.”

His thoughts still going a mile a minute, “Maybe next time she can beg to cum for me.”

Shaking his head to clear some of his perverted ideas he got up to take a quick shower and put on some new sheets. He actually tired himself out tonight, but he still couldn’t completely fall asleep.

He was tired yes, but everytime he shut his eyes they fluttered back up.

Tossing and turning on his bed he reached for his phone again, maybe another rewatch?

The shame nanami felt watching the streamer was now completely gone, he only watched her anyways and something about her voice always helped him not only get off, but fall asleep.

He remembers hearing a very….perverted conversation with Geto and Gojo about listening to sexual audios when they are too sleepy to watch a video, but too awake to fall asleep.

…It was 7am and honestly Nanami tried to ignore it, but Gojo was so damn loud.

With a moment before reconsidering he reached for his airpods and phone off the dresser again and scrolled through her videos.

This one. This video where she first moaned his first name was soothing

….to him.

Laying on his back, gently allowing the weight of his lids to fall shut he turned up the volume of his phone and just listened to her.

He replayed the video so much he almost can invision what she was doing in the exact moment she was speaking.

Nanami had no intention to touch himself again, just to simply hear her, but how naive of him to think he can listen to the wet sounds of her cunt and her soft moans and NOT have a body reaction.

He felt himself get hard, palming his shaft he rubbed it through his boxers, face getting red from the lewd thoughts he imagined from the video.

Nanami invisioned him on top of her, throwing her pretty thick leg on his shoulder, kissing her ankle to distract her from the full feeling of his tip and a few inches of shaft pushing its way inside her. When she moaned Nanami’s name he imagined that’s exactly how she’d sound the moment he bottomed out.

Without noticing his hand was down his boxers moving his fist at the same pace she was fingering herself.

Nanami wasn’t the type to make A LOT of noise when hes self pleasuring. He’s more vocal when with a woman, but his thoughts almost felt like reality he started to speak to himself as if she was there.

“Goooood good girl, sweetheart. Keep your eyes on me…yesss fuck—-so good taking me in like this….”

He never really got off to just audio before, but somehow with his eyes shut he felt more sensitive and it wasn’t long until he felt close again, but he tried to hold on until til she was as well.

“C’mon baby…just like that cum with me. Yes fuck—-“

It probably would seem embarrassing to see such a big strong man whimpering in his bed alone at the thought of fucking a girl he doesn’t even know, but fuck it he did not care. It felt too good to him

It wasn’t too long until he made another mess. Sucking his teeth he just grumbled to himself knowing he needs to grab a towel, but before he does that, he moves over the table in his phone and clicks “New Message”.

While still coming down from his high, Nanami sends another $200 donation and private message to the pretty streamer stating;

“How much would it be for a private phone call?”

[megamindsecretlair]

Can you please write an Aaron Pierre smut fic or love story? 🙏🏽

A/N: Ya'll don't get me started on this man. Just don't. I'm obsessed.

Wild

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving) teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink if you squint, rough sex, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: You went on a small camping trip with Terry, who graciously helped to introduce you to hiking. After a critter destroys your tent, you stupidly volunteer to share his. Shouldn’t be too bad, right?

Word Count: 5,859k

AO3 Link

A/N: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE. Don't ask for him no more! (kidding, kinda) I will never be normal about him. It just kept going. My shoulder has been on fire for the past two weeks so I'm taking a much needed break. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You stepped carefully along the ground. You made sure not a twig nor rock slipped beneath your shoes as you picked your way through the thicket of trees. Terry gave you a head start, closing his eyes and turning around with a smug look on his face.

You’ll show him though. There was no way he could track you this time. The ground was dry, you didn’t step on anything, and you worked with intention. The goal was to get to the river before he could catch up to you.

So far, it had to have been at least fifteen minutes since he started counting. That was a good enough lead, right? 

You were distracted. But something had to keep your mind off of your pursuer. You and Terry had formed an easy friendship, seeing each other around the gym. When he mentioned hiking was a hobby of his, you mentioned that you wanted to get into it but wasn’t sure where to start.

You should have kept your mouth shut. Spending nearly every week up close and personal with him was a new level of personal hell. He was so damn pretty. You didn’t often call men pretty, because…well…but he was!

The most striking eyes ever rimmed in dark eyelashes as if he were wearing eyeliner. Wide nose and even wider lips. An adorable, incredible smile. You stepped behind a tree and paused for a moment, bending over to grab your knees. 

Fuck you were out of shape. And trying to keep up with Terry’s tall ass was a struggle. Beyond a struggle. For every step he took, you had to scurry behind. And he didn’t believe in breaks. Fuckin’ ex military. 

You breathed through your nose though that only made breathing difficult. Didn’t help that you were horny as hell either. You leaned up and pressed your back against the bark of the tree, hoping no critters tried to ride home with you.

You took off your hat and wiped your brow, looking at your surroundings. The woods itself had thick trees, fluffy leaves, and branches that stretched high in the sky. Dots of sunlight slanted, giving you a peek at the bright blue sky. Terry would call it quits soon. You pouted. This was the second mini camping trip you’d been on with him and you hadn’t been able to escape him.

You replaced your hat on your head and risked a glance behind you. No sign of Terry. Good. You grinned and took off again, picking carefully through the woods. The water was close. You could hear the current from where you were. 

Almost there, oop around that rock, and ahhh, almost stepped on a rock. Ha. In his gorgeous face. 

You almost laughed but it would give away your position. You pressed your hand to the nearest tree as you swung around it just as strong arms pushed you into the tree.

You screamed as Terry moved in behind you, pressing his chest against your back. “Found you,” he said. His voice was low and deep, emerging from somewhere deep in his wide chest.

You groaned and slapped the tree. “How the hell did you find me?” You asked.

Terry chuckled and stepped away from you. You missed the heat of his body already. You schooled your features and turned around with a smirk on your face. You folded your arms across your chest so he couldn’t see how hard you were gasping for air. For more than one reason.

“You’re loud as hell,” he said. 

“Was not! I was being quiet! I made sure I was!” 

Terry looped his fingers through his hiking backpack and tilted his head at you. “I’ve been following you for ten minutes,” he said.

You looked away, back the way you came. Shit. What did he hear? What did he see? You may or may not talk to yourself to get yourself through shit. You ran through the past ten minutes, trying to think of what you said or did or if you drew any attention to the horrible crush you had on him.

He had to know his appeal. But you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. You weren’t only friends with him because he was hot. That was loser shit. You genuinely valued his opinions, his outlook. You loved that he had a way of making everyone at ease with just a few quiet words or a playful look. 

But that goddamn body. You looked back towards his face, because if you looked at his shirt, dripping with sweat, you’d combust on the spot. Terry smirked as if he could read your thoughts and pointed the way you came.

“You have to be aware of your surroundings if you do find yourself in a situation like this. It’s not about being quiet. It’s about moving fast, moving smart, and trust nothing,” he said.

You put your hands on your hips and pouted. “One of these days you’re not gonna be able to catch me,” you said.

He chuckled. “I’d still catch you,” he said. He smirked and turned around, heading into the woods, away from the water. 

You’d just have to train when he wasn’t around being a distraction. You sighed, trying to not let the sting of failure drag you into the dumps. You walked behind him, your consolation prize being his nice, gorgeous ass. 

He wore camo pants and a gray t-shirt, hiking boots, and tall thick socks. The pants really showed off his assets. You bit your lip imagining what it’d be like pressed up against all that piece of man. 

“Keep up!” He barked out. You huffed and whined, jogging to catch up to him.

“You do know you’re like, eight feet tall right?” You asked.

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, giving him an animalistic side eye. His eyes were lethal. Your breathing stuttered and you hoped he didn’t hear it because god. “And you must be part lion? Part tiger? Yo ass ain’t natural,” you said, hoping to diffuse whatever spell he managed to weave whenever he trained those eyes on you. 

Terry chuckled. “You trynna say I’m not human?” 

You didn’t answer right away, only because you were trying not to huff and puff as you talked. You needed your inhaler, but you also left it in your tent. Yes, yes, you knew it was a dumb move. But hell, there was nothing more embarrassing than having to stand there and use it.

“I mean…” you said, letting the sentence dangle.

Terry gave you that side eye again, his mouth twisted in a frown. You gave him an innocent smile back, batting your eyes all innocent-like. Terry only shook his head, the corners of his mouth drifting down as he tried to hide a smile. 

You walked together in silence, grateful if only because your lungs were burning. When you decided to go on this journey of getting in shape and getting your mind right, you never thought you’d be in the woods. Let alone with someone like Terry. 

He was competent, knowing so much about living off the grid and being prepared. He carried all kinds of tools with him. You had a thirst for knowledge, asking him a million questions. He answered every single one too. If you could clone him and pass him out like candy to your friends, you would. There needed to be more men like him. 

A trail of ripped paper littered the ground like patches of snow in the middle of fall. “No,” you gasped.

You sped up as Terry’s hands shot out to stop you, but you pushed past him, running towards your campground. Your tent was on the far left, torn to pieces and ripped apart. Your journal had been shredded, ripped apart by some kind of animal. Your clothes were thrown about.

You were only out here for a day and night, getting a tiny taste of camping thanks to Terry. You’d never been. Growing up an inner city kid, Black parents didn’t play that shit. The school yard was your jungle. You were threatened with going to stay out in the woods if you didn’t like living under their roof. It wasn’t a regular occurrence for you or your friends growing up. 

The small fire pit had been picked over as well. You made a wailing sound as you tried to gather up the ripped pieces of paper. All those memories gone. All those feelings torn up. Some pieces flew with the breeze and you took off your own backpack, trying hard not to cry.

“You can’t run ahead like that. What if it was dangerous?” Terry scolded you. His voice got deeper, eyes narrow. He bent down to help you pick up the pieces of paper.

“Please, don’t! I got it,” you said. Perhaps a bit harsher than necessary. You weren’t going to cry. It was a minor setback. Things happened. You play stupid games and you won stupid prizes. 

Perhaps your parents were right. You should’ve kept your ass inside. Without all these damn bugs, and twigs, and fucking leaves tangling in your braids. 

Terry busied himself with picking through your tent, analyzing what may have happened. Home. When you got home, you would be able to break down. Not here. Not with Terry right there. His ass didn’t skip a beat.

“Might’ve been a bear. Or something similar looking for food,” he shouted over his shoulder.

You nodded but weren’t sure if he saw you. You only wanted to clean up your mess. You had so many ideas you wanted to jot down when you got back. So many observations, thoughts that raced through your mind on your hike. Now those thoughts would be gone too. Terry’s one rule this morning was no cellphone. 

You could do a day without it. Boy, were you wrong. You made a mental note to keep your journal with you from now on. Or start carrying a smaller notebook for bullet points and then journal at home, like a sane woman.

“You can take my tent. I’ll sleep out here and make sure nothing circles back,” he said.

You stopped from grabbing the last piece of torn paper from a bush nearby and turned to face him. “I won’t make you do that,” you said.

Terry stood up and dusted his hands, unstrapping his back from across his chest. “I didn’t ask,” he said.

You snagged the last piece and carried your pathetic pile to your ruined tent. You liked that tent. You just bought that tent. Did the fucking bear think money grew on trees? You kicked at the black and orange heap and faced Terry.

“I didn’t either,” you said. 

Terry watched you with those deadly eyes as he dropped his bag to the ground. He used the bottom of his shirt to clean his sweaty face. Damn. His words drew your attention back to his face. “I’ve been trained to survive outdoors. You haven’t.” 

You tucked the pile of paper into your ruined tent and then faced him once more. Terry was about to meet a hard rock. “Don’t start with the macho act, okay? We’re adults. I’m not making you stay outside while I’m tucked away all nice and toasty in your tent,” you said.

A smile curved his lips as he stepped closer, using his height to his advantage. You had to look up otherwise you’d just be staring at his chest. You stood your ground and tilted your head. He may have the advantage. He may be just as stubborn as you were. But you did not back down. Ever. Some called it a toxic trait but there were other ways to survive. Everybody had something.

Terry’s eyes were even more dangerous up close. Not quite blue. Not quite brown. Some mix of the two that was hypnotizing in the way he coldly assessed you. You didn’t know what he was thinking. His poker face was lethal. Not a hint or a clue.

“What do you suggest, then?” He asked.

A hotel, a shower, a bed, twenty four hours, and a bottle of lotion. But that was neither here nor there. You licked your lips and blinked at him. “We can share. Or do you not want my cooties in your tent?” You asked.

That surprised a laugh out of Terry. He shook his head. “Fine. But I snuggle in my sleep,” he said. 

His jaw flexed. He looked expectantly at you, lifting an eyebrow like he expected you to back down. You only raised your chin. “Good, I get cold at night,” you said.

He blinked slowly and nodded, rocking back on his heels before stepping away. “I’ll help with your tent then, before we lose the light,” he said.

When he turned around, you sighed quietly. Shaking out your sweaty palms. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod. What the hell did you do that for? 

You berated yourself as you and Terry worked as a team, removing your items from inside and rolling up your tent. He secured it with rope from inside his backpack and you had a wayward thought that made you laugh out loud.

Terry had knelt on the ground, one knee up, as he secured your tent. He looked up at your laugh and you waved him off. 

“What is it?” He asked, a small smile on his lips.

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” you said.

“I want to know,” he said.

You pinched your lips, wondering if you should say. Aw hell, you had to get it out now otherwise you’d be giggling in your sleep all night. “You kind of remind me of Dora,” you said.

“The kid’s show?” He asked.

You nodded and tried to hold in the laugh, but your stomach cramped from trying. His expression only made it worse as he stared at you like you were crazy. Maybe you were. Maybe you didn’t need to be in a tent with him all night. 

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “Magic backpack?” He asked.

You nodded and burst into laughter. His eyes narrowed but he smiled at you. “Come on, giggles, we’re not done,” he said.

“Work, work, work, is that all you think about?” You asked.

“No,” he said, his voice low and soft. You tilted your head at him and he gave you a funny look. Assessing you again. He didn’t elaborate further as he moved your sleeping bag inside of his tent.

“I’ll roll mine in a bit. Let’s clean this up some more before we hit the stream,” he said.

You thought about look on his face as you cleaned up around the campfire. There was no food to be found, so whatever creature or critter that did it, just made a whole lot of mess for nothing. 

You threw away your journal pages into the small trash bag Terry had tied high in the tree above your campground. He secured it back in place after getting it down for you, gifting you with a side view of his abs. Good god, the man was built in all the right ways. God took his time with this one.

Nice and clean with only one tent now, Terry let you go to the stream to freshen up first. The woods lacked fresh amenities but it was one of those parks that did have strategically placed rest areas. You handled business and then went down to the small stream a ways down from the campsite.

It was within shouting distance and you used the fresh water to clean the sweat from your body. You returned, feeling much better now that your skin wasn’t so sticky. Terry went next, disappearing from view and already lifting his shirt.

You took a risky glance over your shoulder, admiring the cut of his back as he stalked through the woods. His narrow hips moved with ease, ass in full view. Your mouth watered as your canine caught on your lower lip. You’d eat that man alive if given half the chance.

Terry’s head was on a swivel, looking around just on GP. You hurriedly looked away, grabbing your inhaler from your pocket. You retrieved it during clean up but was too nervous to use it in front of him.

Lot of good it did you now, but you took two deep puffs to clean all this fresh air from your lungs. The one thing you did not have in common with your ancestors was a major love of the outdoors. Fuck the air and nature. Give you a hot bath and TV any day of the week. 

Terry returned and you eased into conversation, talking about your families as the light disappeared. Terry started a fire, stoking it with a stick. You talked about life goals, hobbies, or anything really. Watched as he moved, talked, or the way he laughed. Listening to his voice was soothing. Welcoming. Terry caught fish in the river earlier and cooked it over that fire when it was good and ready. 

You yawned one too many times and Terry chuckled. “Head inside, I’ll do one last check,” he said.

“We didn’t get to tell any scary stories,” you said.

Terry shook his head and smiled. He was already dimming the fire, carefully stamping out hot rocks in the pit he built. Watching that man build a fire shouldn’t have got you that hot and bothered but it did.

“Next time, if you’re up for it.”

“You never stop, huh?” You asked, sleepily. 

Terry shrugged. “Not much to slow down for,” he said. He looked at you over the fire. The light from the flames danced across his skin, making him seem even more otherworldly. An understanding passed between you and you nodded, getting up without issue. 

You patted his shoulder, understanding the note of loss in his voice. You’d been there. You didn’t understand his pain, but you understood loss all the same. You took a deep breath before heading inside his tent.

It smelled like him. Like all, pure male. You whimpered, climbing on top of your sleeping bag. He had a nice tent. Much nicer than yours, even though his was well used. It had been folded and unfolded so many times, the grooves were permanent at this point. 

His sleeping bag was brown and looked more like a blanket compared to yours. Did his big ass even fit inside of a sleeping bag? How did he normally sleep? Did he have a bed big enough to hold him? Did he sleep sideways?

You were only half sure that he was playing when he said he snuggled in his sleep. He never mentioned a girlfriend or a wife. Did he have big pillows to snuggle? You stared at the domed ceiling of the tent, picturing what Terry looked like at rest. 

It only made your pussy flutter picturing his smooth, dark skin. Eyes closed. Mouth slightly parted. Did he snore? You probably should have asked that before volunteering to share a tent with him.

The rustle of Terry entering the tent made you shriek and sit up, like you were caught with your hand in a cookie jar. Terry stopped at the entrance and looked at you. “Just me. Do you want me to stay outside?” 

“No. Um. I was just thinking,” you said. Thinking about sucking that –

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” you said, quietly. 

You couldn’t see his face now that the fire was out. He was just a solid wall of black, crab-walking into the tent and then zipping it up behind him. You were acutely aware of every move he made. Every sigh. Every huff of breath.

“Go to sleep,” he said.

“How the hell do you know I’m still awake?” You asked.

“You’re too loud,” he said. 

You could hear the smile in his voice and you rolled your eyes. “Heard that too,” he said.

“Oh, shut it!” You said, rolling over to your side. Terry chuckled as he climbed into his sleeping bag. 

You shut your eyes and focused on your breathing, focused on falling asleep. Terry made it surprisingly easy. His gentle breathing was its own type of sound machine, lulling you to sleep along with the crickets outside. The soft hum of the water nearby. Before you knew it, you were out like a light.

Rustling jerked you awake. It was hard to truly knock out in the middle of nowhere, next to someone like Terry, and not still be keen to every single sound. You were feeling hot as hell, like you woke up in a sauna.

Terry’s arms were wrapped around you and you were snuggled up under his neck, inhaling his deep masculine scent. You cracked an eye open, though you still couldn’t see. Pitch black outside and inside the tent.

Terry hummed as more rustling turned your attention from the fact that he really did snuggle in his sleep. The noise made your heart speed up, clogged up your throat, made it hard to breathe.

Terry tightened his arms around you and drew his face down until his mouth was against your cheek. “Shh,” he said, too quiet. You didn’t think him capable.

He extracted himself from you, moving in a way that didn’t make noise at all. He even managed to unzip the tent without making a sound. He only unzipped it far enough to peek out.

You weren’t a damn damsel in distress. So you rolled over, not as quiet as him, and joined him at the entrance. There was enough light from the moon to cast a low glow over the campsite. There was nothing truly out there, but the rustling continued. The sound increased, and got closer and closer.

Your hand flew to Terry’s exposed knee, gripping on for dear life as an actual deer walked out of bushes and sniffed the air. You sighed, deflating against Terry’s side. Terry sighed as well, unzipping the tent more to get a good look. 

The both of you watched the deer nose around the campsite, likely following the smell of Terry’s good cooking. It’s ears swayed back and forth, picking through nothing as Terry was meticulous about cleaning up after himself.

“You were scared,” he whispered, shaking his head.

“So were you!” You fired back.

“Nah, I was good,” he said.

“You liar,” you said, with a chuckle.

“It’s okay if you were scared, you know,” he said. 

“Ain’t nobody scared of no damn deer. And ain’t nobody need your protection,” you said. You poked him in his chest. When did he find a chance to ditch his shirt? You had been snuggled next to that hunk of meat and he didn’t have a shirt on?!

“No?” Terry leaned over, his lips grazing your ear. “Go out there and say hi.” He tried to push you out of the tent and you fought him, trying not to spook the deer. One wrong move and the deer took off.

You giggled as you wrestled with Terry. He was so big, you didn’t stand a chance. It didn’t take much effort to subdue you, but you bucked and wrestled for control. No dice. Terry laughed as he pinned you beneath him, legs spread wide as he scooted in and leaned down close to your face.

“Give up?” He asked.

“Like hell,” you said. You had siblings. You knew how to scrap. Yet, all you did was rub your body against his growing bulge. 

You stopped wrestling for control. Your breaths were harsh and loud in the stillness of the tent. Terry’s chest rose and fell but he wasn’t as loud as you. You stopped struggling against his hold, letting him pin your wrists to the ground above your head.

“Hmm,” he hummed, a rumbling sound low in his chest. “Ain’t that better?” 

“Terry?” You asked.

“Mhm,” he said, leaning down to rub his stubble across your chin. 

“Kiss me,” you said.

Terry leaned up and kissed you. You moaned into his mouth. His lips were just as juicy, just as lush. Soft to the touch. And he was an expert. Kissing, retreating, licking, retreating, biting, retreating. He drove you wild, not giving an inch. Not giving you any wiggle room.

He completely caged you beneath him. Beneath the heaviness of him. He still had your wrists pinned, so you weren’t able to touch him like you wanted. You weren’t the type to be agreeable for agreeable’s sake.

Terry growled at your attempts to shake his hold. Shake his control. He bit your lip, hard, and you cried out, ending on a moan. He licked the sting away, kissing down your jaw and to your neck.

“Fuck do you do to me?” He asked, more to himself as he kissed and explored your skin. He ground his bulge into your pussy and you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Just as he showed you in training, you managed to buck your hips and flip him over. You wailed in triumph, not actually believing that would work. Your breaths were harsh, wild, as you finally got to touch him. Your hands roamed over his broad, warm chest. He took great care of his body.

In a lightning quick move, Terry grabbed your arm and flipped you over to your stomach. He grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back. You cried out from the force, but it was welcome. Inviting a rush of heat to flow through you, straight to your dripping pussy. You moaned as Terry dropped his weight on top of you.

His dick aligned with your ass and you tucked it higher. He grunted and slapped your ass. “Ow!” You yelled, more from surprise. Though the fucker did hurt. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of your ass. Leaving behind a burning sting that only made you wiggle your ass against him.

“Fighting only turns me on, princess,” he said. He leaned down to your ear and growled. He sounded damn near like a lion. “Give up?” He nibbled on your ear.

“Fuck no,” you said and giggled. 

Terry moved your wrists to one hand, then used his free hand to pull your joggers down over your ass. You whimpered as he caressed your booty, intentionally missing the heated core of you. 

You moaned, trying to wiggle your ass where you needed him most. All these months of pining, of wanting, of yearning, were coming to a head. All those times training, working beside him, tangling with him were catching up to you, Making you feel like you were going to burn to a crisp.

“Use them big girl words and tell me what you want,” he said.

You arched your back. Begging, crying whimpers escaping you as his big fingers skirted the outer edge of your pussy. The smell of your arousal permeated the tent. There was no way to deny how turned on you were. If you could just, wiggle, and move a little to the left–

Terry slapped your ass. “What did I say?” He asked.

You groaned. “Fuck me!” Your horniness won this round.

Terry chuckled evilly, plunging his fingers into your dripping wet hole. You both moaned at the contact. He went knuckles deep with no resistance. He wiggled two fingers inside of you, making you moan loudly like a slut. 

“Was that so hard?” He asked, whispering in your ear as he continued to finger fuck you. He fingered you with all the precision he was known for. Immediately making you grind on his fingers. 

“You can do better than that. Get that shit you want so bad,” he said. He mocked you, he teased you. Every cry or whimper that came out of your mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a moan of his own in your ear.

It was always followed randomly by a growl in his chest. The intimacy of the dark and the wet sucking of your pussy drove you closer to that climax. Barreled into it. Crashed into it. You screamed, loud, calling his name as that climax slammed into you like a truck.

“There it is. Shit feel good, don’t it?” He asked.

You nodded your head, forgetting for a moment that it was dark and he couldn’t see you. He released your wrists and then grabbed a handful of your braids, yanking your head back. “Don’t it?” He asked.

“Yesss,” you moaned, biting your lip and rubbing your ass against him. “Oh, fuck me, baby. Now.”

Terry chuckled, smacking your ass. “As much as I want to, I don’t have a condom,” he said. 

“I’m clean. On the pill,” you said. Thank god for that. There was no way you’d be able to sleep tonight without the feel of him inside of you. 

“Are you sure?” He asked.

You nodded, feeling your braids pull as it was still trapped in his tight grip. Terry chuckled. There was the sound of sucking. He moaned. “Taste good. Can’t wait to get back home and spread you on my bed. Hmm, maybe my dining table. Eat you like the good fuckin’ meal you are,” he said. 

He moved behind you, lowering his pants. He groaned, rubbing his dick against your folds. Oh shit. He was working with a third leg. “Oh shit, Terry,” you moaned. Your belly ached. Hollowed out. You were so empty. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy wearing those leggings. And that skirt you wore last week?” Terry talked as he rubbed his dick between your legs. You shook. Terrified of taking all that but knew you had to try. Had to relax and let the master work. 

“What took you so fuckin’ long?” You asked. 

Terry chuckled and smacked your ass, pulling your braids back. You moaned, back arching even more. “That little attitude of yours,” he said. 

“Fuck y–”

Terry pushed into your wet heat, cutting off all words. You reached back, trying to grab onto him. He smacked your hand away and pushed in further, gaining more and more inches inside of you.

Your legs shook. You whimpered as he retreated and then slammed back inside. He sunk further in, stretching you, molding you around his dick. “Oh god, oh fuck, oh god,” you moaned. The delicious burn was too much. Not enough.

Terry moaned, grabbing your hip and pulling you further onto his dick. You didn’t think he could fit inside any more. Surely, he bottomed out by now? 

“Not so tough with some dick in you,” Terry mocked. 

To prevent you from saying something smart, Terry moved with earnest. His stroke game was as intense as the man himself. His strokes were brutal. Punishing. He groaned with every slide inside of you, making your thighs tingle with pleasure.

“Slam that shit back,” he said. 

You placed your hands on the ground and threw it back on him, rising up to meet each of his thrusts. Each of his long strokes. Accepting his dick. Accepting everything he gave you.

“Terry! Oh, you fuck me so well,” you said. You sniffled, screaming with every thrust.

Terry chuckled. “I know. Spread your legs wider,” he said.

He stopped stroking so that you could spread your legs more. You moved your feet to the outer edges of his legs. He pushed down on your back, releasing your braids so that you could fall forward. He raised your hips, moving you, manhandling you. 

Fuck, it felt so right. So good. So natural to be on your knees, ass up in the air, while he went to work. Terry grabbed your hips and moved you one last time. Then, he slammed inside in one rough thrust. You leaned forward, but he snatched you right back.

“Naw, naw. Where you going?” He moaned.

You moaned back, throwing it back but quickly losing the fight. This wasn’t some little man you let fuck you. This was a grown ass man. Secure in his businesses.

“Fuck, you feel good. So wet. I can barely stay inside of you,” he said. He cursed as he slammed into you like he truly wanted.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Terry! Terry! Sh-shh–oh that’s my spot,” you said. He brushed up against a deep spot inside of you. You thought it was a myth. You thought that shit didn’t exist. Terry found it without even trying.

“That’s your spot?” He asked. His deep voice made everything sound more filthy. More lewd. 

“That’s my spot!” You squealed. 

“That’s my spot now,” he said. No more words were spoken as he hit that spot over and over. 

Incoherent noises and sounds dribbled from your mouth. Perhaps some spit too. Your essence dripped out of you, flooding his dick as he didn’t let up. Didn’t stop. Kept hitting your spot like he was at target practice and he was showing out for the crowd. 

“Oh I’m gonna-I’m-gonna–”

“Cum on this dick. Let me feel it. Let it go,” he cooed to you.

There was a storm gathering inside of you. It almost felt like you had to pee. “Wait-” 

Terry moaned. Your cries turned to pleas. It both felt good and sort of hurt. “Uhngf-” You exploded, wailed to the high heavens as you came and squirted. “OH SHIT!”

Terry was saying something but you couldn’t hear over the sound of your yelling. Your pussy gripped onto him, locked him in, as you came and came. Terry smacked your ass and then thrust one last time before erupting with his own climax. He stuffed you completely.

Hot, thick pulses of cum throbbed inside of you. Your thighs shook. Your body twitched. Your eyes watered. You dissolved into a steaming pile of person as your eyes crossed with intense, whitehot pleasure.

Terry grunted and dropped forward, pushing you onto your sleeping bag. He kissed your damp pajama shirt. Both of you were huffing, out of breath. Thank god for your inhaler. Your lungs would be nonexistent right now. 

Terry softened by degrees, enough for him to pull out. You moaned as his cum leaked out. Like his dick was a plug keeping it all inside. 

“That’s never happened before,” you mumbled. Suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed. You ought to know what that felt like. Yet, it completely caught you off guard.

Terry maneuvered in the dark until he was able to pull you off of your sleeping bag and onto his where it was dry. He rubbed your arms and shoulders. Then, he grabbed your chin and pulled you into a searing kiss.

“I’m honored I drew it out of you,” he said. “Wait till I do it again.”

“Again! Not with that monster!” You yelled and tapped his chest. Terry’s rumbling laugh was everything you needed to hear. 

He pulled you closer, growling playfully and nipping at your skin. You giggled, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Again and again and again,” he said, kissing and nibbling at you with every word while you shrieked into the night with laughter.

The end.

Who am I kidding? Of course there will be more! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

@avoidthings @lovedlover

[httpsserene]

I’m begging you, please write something for us Lance girlies.

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭-𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞? 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝! - 𝐥𝐬. 𝟏𝟖 | 𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝟒𝟎𝟒: 𝐏𝐍𝐅 |

𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝟒𝟎𝟒: 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞

summary: it’s the most wonderful time of the year! you swear there’s love in the air. however, your friends, family, and fans think you need intensive therapy. content warning: vacation romance. girls trip. love at first sight. fluff. profanity. mentions of reader’s previously failed relationships. reader has a mom and sister. sibling dynamics (bullying). friendship. delusion. reader has a puppy. all photos are from pinterest.  pairing: lance stroll x fem!black!reader

from serene: i wish peace, love, and happiness on everyone’s soul…and i hope my unexpected lance stroll smau series distracts you from the torment of the race weekend. LOL xxx < 3

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents | series toc | next ↻

twitter • ynplays • december 11th

imessage • yn and friends

instagram • ynplays • dec12th • winter wonderland ⚑

liked by kyedae, taytagames, yourmom, and 13,244 others

ynplays: brr 🥶 if only their was a 6-foot, brown-eyed, strong man to keep me warm 😏🥺

tagged yoursister, yourbestie, yourfriend1, yourfriend2

view comments

user1 so it starts 😣

➥ user2 please let this be a normal vacation!!!

➥ user3 with yn??? no way

yourmom i didn't raise you to act like this…

➥ yoursister mom idk where you went wrong with her

➥ ynplays she let me have unmonitored access to the internet

➥ user4 ah that makes sense 🙂‍↕️

➥ user5 that'll do it mhm

yourbestie please can we go inside the fucking resort my ass is freezing as im typing this

➥ yourfriend1 u just mad bc u slipped and busted your ass

➥ yourbestie would you be mad if i punched you so hard yo nose broke?

➥ user6 heyyYYY come getcho friends yn!!!

➥ user7 they about to crash out 😳😳😳

user8 lots of athletes like to go skiing and snowboarding during their winter breaks 👀

➥ yourfriend2 DO NOT give her any ideas, pls im begging you 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🙏🏽🙏🏽

➥ user8 american football players, basketball players, racecar drivers, hockey players, tennis players...😏

➥ ynplays omg ao3 fic, meet-cute, 654k words, love at first sight, strangers to lovers, no angst, happy ending, hockey player x yourname romance irl???

➥ yourfriend2 i begged,,,

twitter • ynplays • december 12th

instagram • ynplays • dec13th • the slopes ⚑

liked by yoursister, qtcinderella, yourbestie, and 15,093 others

ynplays: sega’s first snow and my first day on the slopes 🥹🐶

tagged yoursister, yourbestie, yourfriend1, yourfriend2, segagenesisthedawg

view comments

user9 is your puppy named after the video game franchise, SEGA?

➥ ynplays yes! sega made mortal kombat which is my fav fighting game, so i named her after the company :)

➥ ynplays also, you can't forget about sonic and persona (super monkey ball too!!!)

➥ user10 me n the boys go crazy on super monkey ball

yourbestie pretty girl < 3

➥ yoursister if i was a man...mhm 😈

➥ yourfriend1 why do u always say some weird shit

➥ user11 turning your family tree into a circle energy

user12 are you just skiing or are you going to snowboard too??

➥ ynplays i want to do both! starting with skiing bc it's a "ski" resort ig? but i can't wait to try a board :)

➥user13 sounds like a fun! hope you have a nice vacay < 3333

user14 YNNNN ⚠️⚠️ you should get some of those plush turtles that you put on your butt so it doesn't hurt as much when you fall ⚠️⚠️

➥ user15 yes omg like this comment so she can see ittttt

➥ user16 those cushions literally saved my ass when i went boarding last year fr

➥ ynplays should i get one? do they sell them anywhere near the resorts?

➥ user16 yes, they should!

igstory • ynplays uploaded!

[caption; well,,,i think i need skiing lessons. hope the man i ran into has less snow down his shirt than i do.]

user17: eating shit is a staple of learning to ski

user18: the man 😀🫨 ynplays: i think it was the same dude who opened the door for me !!! user18: babe that's fate atp i don't make the rules

yourfriend2: i think you're about to have your meet-disaster. look up, he's skiing our way ynplays: oGM WH$T TH3!?!!

twitter • ynplays • december 13th

igstory • ynplays uploaded!

[caption1; he said i was a total loss at skiing and taught me how to snowboard instead ;p] [caption2; is it love if he buys you $25 ski resort hot cocoa?]

user19: oh no you're down BAD

yourfriend1: idk if it’s love but it's a stupid purchase 👏🏽 i can tell you that much

yoursister: no the fuck it's not love 🤬

user20: $25 HOT COCOA?!! outrageous user20: you better marry that man ynplays: you understand me on an subatomic level

instagram • yourbestie • dec13th • the shredder ⚑

liked by ynplays, yoursister, yourfriend2, and 8,764 others

yourbestie: we’re all way better at this snowboarding thing, even yn. thanks to her “brown eyed beau” 🤨 (her name not mine)

tagged yoursister, yourbestie, yourfriend1, yourfriend2, ynplays

view comments

user21: oh them drinks look thirst quenching 🤤🤤🤤

➥ user22: i wish free refills were implemented worldwide

user23: they would have to chain me up in my room if i were at this resort...i'd be foaming out the mouffff 😮‍💨🥴

➥ user24: bro what 🤣🤣🤣

➥ user25: think it's time you get castrated lil bro

➥ user26: watchlist type beat 🫵🏽🫵🏽🫵🏽

yourfriend1: i thought this was supposed to be a girls trip :(

➥ yourfriend2: it never is with yn unfortunately

➥ yourbestie: FRFR this turned into the girls....and l****

➥ ynplays: don't be fucking rude 😒

➥ ynplays: he payed for our drinks and taught me how to shred ☹️

user27: "l****" ???? alright agents let's find out who this mfer is

➥ user28: *brushes off my criminal justice degree*

➥ user29: i've compiled a list of five letter boy names that start with L on a google doc and male celebs who have posted any ski resort pics or those who implied they were going

➥ user30: i have a google doc of all the male athletes who have posted any skiing/snowboading/resort pics AND athletes who implied they were going somewhere cold for holiday

➥ user29: ,,,i like your style. let's merge our docs 🤝

➥ user31: post the link on twitter and let's fucking get to it

© httpsserene 2024

[kiddiesmores]

“𝟖𝟔 𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐢 𝐌𝐚���𝐢”: 𝟖𝟔 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Schlatt cannot stop flirting with eachother, but will it go anywhere?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Drinkin, Cussin

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞: LORDDD chapter two is finally with us 😭🙏🏽 sorry guys I was in such a slump, please forgive me! I will not leave you guys high and dry again! Enjoy!! Love you!!

Your first few weeks at Chops went as smoothly as they could. Following Schlatts advice to not let anyone walk over you definitely helped and you’ve even got yourself a couple of regulars because of it.

However, even though money is good, it doesn’t stop the lingering tension between you and him. You pray nobody can pick up on it, and luckily no one has (besides charlie), but it’s agonizing to say the least.

The small brushes against your back whenever he’d scoot past you, the sweet, “You look nice today,” he would tell you every time you came in. Don’t even START with the free food he hands out.

Somehow he always has an excuse. “They fucked this one up, take it.” or “Come try this, it’s going on our seasonal menu next month.” Who were you to deny him?

It didn’t stop at work either. Charlie, the little shit he is, pesters you outside of work about him constantly.

The two of you decided to go out to eat after work one night, catching up on each other's lives as if you don’t see each other daily. He wasted no time bringing up Schlatt.

“Oh he definitely likes you,” He starts, his words muffled due to the handful of fries he has stuffed in his mouth. His lips formed a small pout, “He doesn’t give me free food.”

You laugh to yourself, waving your hand to dismiss him. “I don’t mind a free meal or two…or seven. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he likes me— I mean, aren’t you guys close?” Your voice lowers, taking sudden interest in stirring your drink around to avoid eye contact, “Does he like…talk about me to you or anything”

Charlie smiles, shaking his head at your bashfulness. “Not explicitly no, but whenever I see him making food with no tickets in the window, I try to steal some right? And then BAM! HE hits me! Literally hits me!”

A scowl paints his face as his voice deepens mockingly, “ ‘It’s not for you, don’t touch my shit’ like okay ASSHOLE! And then I see him offer it to you, so obviously there’s some connection there!”

You laugh loudly and roll your eyes at his Schlatt impression, stealing a fry from his plate. “Well he’s definitely helped me save on groceries, I haven’t paid for a meal in a month” you joke.

Your knee bounces nervously as you think of all the times Schlatt has spoiled you with meals and sweet words. But your mind can’t help and only comes up with the worst possible scenarios.

Say you actually do get together, what happens if you get into a fight and have to go to work together? Would he fuck up your food? Fire you? Oh god, would he fire you? Is that even allowed? What if-

“You’re thinking too hard about this.” Charlie interrupts, snapping you back to reality. Your eyes dart back up to meet him as he looks at you with gentle eyes. “No! No, I’m fine. I’m chill..” you mumble, but you aren’t fooling anyone, not even yourself. “I just wanna be sure I know what I’m getting into..”

Charlie smiled kindly, reaching across the table to put a hand on your shoulder. “Look Y/N, I’m coming to you as friends of you both and telling you that you have a chance. Don’t get in your own head. Nothing bad will happen to you, even if things do go south. But I know they won’t so that’s out of the question! Trust me, okay?”

You give him a thankful smile and nod, “Thanks Charlie…I’ll let you have half of whatever he makes me next time if you’re right”

“YIPPIE!!”

🫐🫐🫐

The next night at work was peaceful. The restaurant was pretty dead towards closing, only a few people sitting at the bar and maybe one or two tables of two in your coworkers sections. Rosie sat in the office doing paperwork, all the other servers chilling at the bar area talking amongst themselves as they had been cut for the night.

You were adjusting your tips into the system, too in your own head to hear the side door open. A pair of hands wrapped around your waist, shaking you from your trance. Looking down frantically, you recognize them almost immediately, “Oh- hi Schlatt. Didn’t know you were coming in today.” you breathe, placing a hand on your heart to try and ease your heart .

Your voice is low, giving him a gentle squeeze on his hands as you look up at him with a sincere smile. He stares down at you, a tired gruff expression painting his face, he seems exhausted. He hums, leaning down grazing your ear with his lips, a small gasp escaping you as his breath tickles it.

“Wanna go make out in the back?” He whispers, his voice low. His thumb strokes your stomach, eyes trailing your face awaiting your answer. You’ve never turned your head so fast. “Wait- huh?” You question, wondering if you heard him correctly.

“Do you. Want to. Makeout. In the back.”

He articulates every word, expression serious. You’re blown away at his bluntness, mouth floundering as you try to form a coherent response. But he looks so cute, cheeks red and eyes tired, meeting your crazed stare.

You wanted him terribly.

But you can also smell the whiskey on his breath, he’s been drinking.

“Maybe when you’re more sober.” you tease, patting him on the arm, pulling yourself together with a teasing smile.

He pouts, making your heart melt. “I’m 250 pounds, it takes a lot more to get me drunk.” He argues, making you roll your eyes. You turn to face him fully, arms crossing over your chest as your nerves ease just a little when you see him slightly rock on his feet.

He’s just as nervous as you are. Or drunk, maybe both.

“I’ll tell you what, ask me again tomorrow and maybe I’ll follow you up on that offer.” You suggest, holding onto one of his hands.

A loud groan escapes him as he begins to lean against you, his head resting on top of yours as he pulls you into a hug. “But I wanna kiss you now…” he complains, making you scoff. Your hand rubs his back, “How did you even get here if you’ve been drinking?” you ask, trying to dodge his statement.

He pulls back, turning and gesturing to nothing, “Charlie. We went for drinks at a friend's bar down the road and wanted something free to eat so we came here. Waitin on our ride now, his girlfriend I think I dunno.” He grumbles.

‘Charlie’ You think to yourself, you’re gonna beat his ass when you see him. Which might be soon since you hear your coworkers and him laughing at the bar.

Schlatt looks down, head tilting to the side while he brings his hand to your cheek to pinch, “And I wanted to sneak a look at you.”

You huff and shove him away playfully. “Oh shut up!” you grumble, forcing your attention back on the screen so he can’t see your smiling face.

He chuckles, hands back around your waist while his chin rests atop your head. You can’t help but melt into him, bodies swaying a bit as he tries to stand still.

“I mean it,” he starts, staring at the screen with you while you finish adjusting tips. “I’ll remember in the morning and ask you again. Will you say yes then?”

If your pupils could form hearts they would have.

“I will.” you whisper, looking up at him, almost deciding to throw out all your morals and makeout with him right there. A wicked smile paints his lips, “Heard.” He mutters, giving your waist a small squeeze before stepping back.

You almost whine at the loss of his warmth, watching him gather his things before leaving. He waves a bye to you on the way out, a giggling Charlie following behind him with big thumbs up causing you to scowl playfully.

You fiddle with the strings on your apron, an excited squeal leaving your lips as you smile goofily to yourself.

Rosie steps out of the office to look for the commotion, peeping her head around the corner and seeing you giggling to yourself.

“You’re still here? Hurry up and go, our labor is high as shit!”

“Sorry! Sorry! I’m gone!!”

🫐🫐🫐

“BROOKE!! BROOKE WAKE UP I NEED TO GET TO WORK PLEAAASEE!!”

You hear a mix of voices and a crashing noise before her door swings open. A dazed Charlie in a crop top and his boxers greets you while your face grimaces. “You are not Brooke.” You joke, face still disgusted. He scoffs, leaning on the doorway, “She’s in the bathroom, said she’ll be out soon. Whatcha need to go in so early for, you’re good for another hour. I know, I made the schedule.” He smirks, arms crossed. You cross yours back, “I open actually smart ass, what are you doing here anyway? Weren’t you with Schlatt last night?”

He laughs, flipping his hair, “My girlfriend— who loves me very much— picked us up last night. Thank you. Oh but you wouldn’t know anything about being in a relationship would you?” He taunts making you scoff.

“Bitch-“

“Okay I’m ready, let's go! Bye baby, see you in a bit” Brooke interrupts, kissing Charlie on the cheek and taking your hand while a cheesing Charlie tauntingly waves bye to you while you glare at him.

🫐🫐🫐

“AND THEN, HE WAS LIKE ‘OH LET'S GO MAKE OUT IN THE BACK’ LIKE WHAT DO YOU MEAAAAN.” You gripe, flailing about in the passenger seat with your head shoved in your hands. The car is silent for a bit, making you peek at her through your fingers where you’re met with a blank stare, “It most likely means he wants to make out with you.”

“NOOOOOO!”

You bitch and moan the entire car ride, Brooke's grip on the steering wheel getting tighter and tighter as you repeatedly ignore the obvious attraction from the man.

She pulls into the Chops parking lot, parking at the very back while you continue to rant about how nervous you were. Her eyes look ahead, squinting as she sees Schlatt standing by the to-go door holding a cigarette while you slumped against the passenger window, head in your hands completely oblivious to the man. The two make eye contact, acknowledging each other with a nod of the head.

And a lightbulb goes off in Brooke’s head, hand quickly signaling and mouthing for him to come closer to the car. He stares back confused, slowly walking over as she directs him to the passenger side.

“I’m just so scared, I don’t know what to do.” You pout, looking at Brooke still oblivious to Schlatt.

“Well he’s coming over right now so you better figure out something quick.” Brooke points, making you turn to face the front but not seeing anyone there.

“Wha-“

There’s a tap on the window, making you turn to face him.

And you scream. Loud. Cowering back with your hands back over your face.

He flinches, muttering a ‘What the fuck’ and cackling while signaling to Brooke to roll down the window, which she does. He reaches a hand through to poke at your arm, slowly uncovering your face while you stare back with a nervous smile. “Hi..” you mumble, making him chuckle. “How you doin?” He teases with a sly smile.

He opens the car door, “C'mon I’ll walk you in.” He insists, grabbing your bag from the floor board. You turn to Brooke and all she offers is two thumbs up making you whine. You step out, slamming the door and rushing to walk next to Schlatt.

“Have a good shift you two~” Brooke teases as she drives past, making you flip her off while Schlatt shakes his head. He opens the door for you, dropping your bag off in its designated spot as you start your opening duties.

“So how you doin?” He asks again, making you turn your head. You laugh, “You already asked me that.”

“Well you never answered..” he jokes, crossing his arms with a sly smile. You shake your head, “I’m fine, how are you? Your head okay?”

He shrugs, “M’fine, Charlie was worse.” You roll your eyes, “Yeah he was at my apartment this morning, answered Brooke’s door with a crop top on, don’t even know where he got that!”

Yall laugh, the banter continuing as you finish all the opening duties before the others show up. He leans against the expo line, gazing at your figure from the back.

“So…you still thinking about that offer?” He asks lowly, he watches your arms tense, your voice lowering with a teasing tone, “It’s only 10am..” you joke, looking at him over your shoulder. He chuckles, crossing his arms, “Yeah, and?”

You smile, turning to face him, mimicking his body language. “Maybe, you gonna get drunk again before I give you an answer?”

He scoffs and turns his head, making you giggle. He pushes off the counter, heading to the kitchen as your coworkers start making their way in. “Have a good shift.” he mutters, “You too!”

🫐🫐🫐

Apparently the day wanted you to go to hell. The hosts triple sat you, people called out left and right meaning your break was cut short as nobody could handle the amount of people coming in today, everything sucked. Not to mention the Sunday crowd was stingy with their tips as always, if they even tipped at all. Why the fuck do old people even still come out to eat?

Now you’re trapped with a 20 top, who need accommodations for every fucking thing but decided to come in 30 minutes before close. Just your fucking luck.

Not gonna lie you were handling it well, to your table at least. In the back you were irritated, constantly refilling drinks and beefing with the ice as it gets lower and with Cooper when he pushes out another dessert for you to run.

You felt terrible for the cooks who have to stay longer due to your table's terrible time management, making a mental note to buy them a drink next shift.

Schlatt especially, but in all honesty you really couldn’t tell what he was feeling right now. His face seemed focused but irritated, you couldn’t see what he was doing, but he seemed really into it.

Your table was finally content, laughing with no cares in the world as if it’s not 30 minutes past closing and they were still inside, so you took the opportunity to put the rest of your tips in.

“5…3…5…6…wow lucky 10..” you mumble to yourself looking at the receipts until—

BANG

You flinch at the harsh noise, looking down to see what caused the commotion. It was a plate with a brownie sundae on it, and you looked up to see who left it there and it was no other than Schlatt, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Wh-“

“I have a dessert for you.”

“But-“

“I’m going out back, find me if they need something else”

He walks off quickly, another commotion following, the sounds of pots hitting the ground.

“WHO FUCKING LEFT THIS HERE? FUCK!” He shouts, making you laugh quietly to yourself as a clearly stoned Cooper comes from the kitchen coughing and walking up to the fountain for a cup of water.

“I don’t know why he gave me this, you already gave me all my desserts?” You question, pointing at the sundae while looking at Cooper. He laughs, shaking his head, “I think it’s for you man.”

Your nose scrunches, “But why-“ “I dunno, I’m gonna go smoke again though.”

Annnnd he’s gone. You shrug, pulling the dessert over to you and looking down.

You gasp, realization washing over you as you finally take in the dish. In chocolate syrup, written around the edges of the plate were:

“Wanna Go On A Date?”

The words were shoved awfully close as the plate was not fit to hold a dessert and a declaration of affection, but you understood nonetheless. You smile to yourself, giddily eating the dessert (after taking a picture of course).

Once you finish, you come up with your own plan of getting back at him. You see him turning the corner while he comes back in from smoking, “Schlatt!” You call, making him stop, turning to walk towards you.

“What is it?” he asks, nervously picking at his hand with his fingers. But you smile nonetheless, handing the plate back to him. “Can you take this to the dish pit for me? I think that table is finally ready to check out.”

You try to ignore his face drooping slightly before he grunts out a ‘yeah’ and takes the dish from your hand and turns on his heel to head back. You shake your head, printing out your table's receipt and walking over to check them out, beaming.

Schlatt however was not happy, his brain was doing loops trying to see if the signals you were sending meant nothing the whole time. He drops the plate in the dish pit with a huff, eyes squinting as he sees the mess on the plate he gave you.

There written in the leftover sauce was a “Yes”.

Now it’s his turn to start beaming, eyes lighting up while his heart starts to race. He laughs to himself, shaking his head as he turns the corner just to be halted by a mass bumping into him, you.

You step back, about to apologize until you realize it’s him, “Oh! Hey..” you smile, waving the merchant copy of your receipt, “$60 tip!”

He whistles, taking it from you, “Very nice, it’s the least they could do after keeping us all here an hour later.”

You nod, taking it back and putting it in your book, “Should’ve been more, honestly..” you mumble, making him bark out a laugh. He follows you over to the POS system, leaning next to you as you finish closing out tabs and adjusting totals. He watches as you pout, hand rubbing over your stomach as it growls, “Hungry?” He questions, laughing at you while you hush your stomach.

“A little, haven’t really found time to eat today..” you sulk, printing the checkout and stapling your receipts together. He takes them, watching you put your tote bag over your shoulder, “Woah woah- slow down, let me make you something before you go!”

You frown, adjusting the tote bag, “The kitchen is beyond closed, I can just hit up the gas station or something-“

He pulls you in by the waist, big hands tightly holding your hips against his as he speaks.

“Let me tell you somethin.” he starts, pulling you closer making you giggle. “Tell me somethin.” you mock, mimicking his accent, “Yeah let me tell you somethin.” he repeats, getting closer to your face.

“Who owns the restaurant?”

“You do-“ “I do, that’s right, see you’re keeping up!” He interrupts. You roll your eyes, about to argue but he cuts you off again. “Let me worry about the numbers, and the inventory, and the time. That's my job. Your job right now—“ he points to your stomach, “—Is telling me what the fuck you want to eat. So tell me, what. do. you. want. me. to. make.”

Your body tilts back as you let out a dramatic sigh , causing him to laugh and catch you with his free hand.

“I want a filet.”

“What size.”

“8 ounces. Medium well.”

“No, you always get medium well, do medium.”

“Fine! Medium.”

“What sides.”

“I want a baked potato. Loaded.”

“And?”

“…Applesauce”

“You’re fucking with me”

You roll your eyes, annoyed. “What’s wrong with applesauce? This is MY meal”

“You’re getting broccoli.”

Your face changes from annoyance to disgust. “I don’t fuckin want that!” “Oh no!” he mocks, holding you tighter in his grip, “Don’t care! I’ll grill it, it’ll taste better.”

You huff, “Fine!”

He laughs at your pouting face, cooing as he leans down to press a swift kiss on your cheek. “Aww, i’m just messin’ baby, you can have some fucking applesauce.I don’t give a shit.”

A shy smile forms on your lips as he kisses your chest,, his thumb rubbing your hip while you look away bashfully.

“But I'm still gonna give you some broccoli, if you don’t eat it you're paying for everything.”

“WHAT THE FUCKKKKKK!”

🫐🫐🫐

You wait patiently in the dining room, bouncing your knee and scrolling through your phone to distract yourself. Your hand ghosts your cheek, thumb tickling the spot he kissed, having to hold back your giggle as you replayed it in your head. It felt nice to finally admit you both had the hots for each other, the last month of sly touches and casual flirting finally feeling like it was worth it.

A text pops up on the top of your screen, it was Brooke asking if she needed to come pick you up. As your fingers hovered over the keys, Schlatt turned the corner, setting down a to go box on the table.

You offer a sweet smile, muttering a thank you before typing out a quick, “No I’m okay, I have a plan.”

[appleblueberry-pie]

yandere miles 42 when a guys asks you out to prom yk like where they make a whole scene a cardboard box cut into a square and it has will you go out to prom with me 😭😭 and says the most cheasy thing making you cringe and a large group of ppl are surrounding you two but we reject them and they get mad and you tell miles all abt it ^^ i love your posts btw🙏🏽

[Come back home to me.]

You knew something funny was gonna happen when people were smiling your way, giggling and whispering about you. And the further you trekked down the hallway, the more crowded it was. You tried to keep your eyes to yourself as you slithered through the crowd. Clutching your backpack straps harder. Phones were out and on you, you felt a little nervous. This day has been hard enough for you. Long, grueling hours in class, people chatting up a storm in your ears, a mind-blowing headache that you've had all damn day that you could only take medication for just 30 minutes ago. You were tired.

"Hey, Y/n!" You tense up before sighing, shoulders dropping. How much happier would you be if you just ignored the call of your name and dealt with the backlash tomorrow, instead? You recognized the voice, and knew that if you ignored him...you'd be dealing with the consequences forever. You decided to turn around.

There goes Travis. His dark brown complexion and well-maintained dreads make him stand out. They were pulled back into a low pony, probably because he knew these videos would be the talk of the school for a while. He always loved the spotlight. A junior, like you, giving you that smile that all of the girls bothered him to give to them. It's directed right at you while he holds a beautifully made sign. It's humongous. And pink. And purple. Colors that you don't remember telling him were your favorite. Your head begins to hurt again when you notice your name drawn in amazing detail and care, followed by something among the lines of "prom" and "love of my life."

Somehow in the time span that you scanned your eyes over the sign that determined your possibly inevitable doom, a perfect circle was formed by the students who stood and watched you two like hawks. The flash on phones made you calculate that these videos wouldn't leave the internet for at least a month. Great. A month of reminders. A month of prodding and picking at your sanity from a place you have to go to damn near every day for an education. And a month of replays of a rejection.

You're not telling him yes.

Travis's homeboys hoot and holler to encourage him. "Y/n..." He starts, taking a step closer to you. A fake smile wobbles onto your lips and you stare up at him. "......yes...?" Everyone suddenly goes silent as you two begin to converse.

The way he stares at you makes you feel like....what he's looking for in you isn't something you'd give up for any high school boy anytime. Because what he wants, you know it isn't genuine love. So it makes you nervous the way he seems to tower over you during his, so called, "profession of love".

"Your beauty and smarts is something I've always wanted in a girl." His voice is loud and clear. It echoes throughout the hallway, like he wants everyone to hear. You don't think the halls have ever been so quiet. "Everyday, I'd pass you in the hallways while you carry your textbooks and wonder what it'd be like talking to you every morning before class. What it would be like to love you the way you deserve to be loved." His vague explanation of his love towards you had you wondering if anyone else also realized how fake this whole thing was.

His dark brown eyes never leave your face and he's right in front of you now. "So, I made this sign...to show you how much I love you. And how much I want to be with you. So, if it isn't so much to ask," Travis slowly puts the sign aside and drops to one knee, taking one of your hands into his, holding it carefully. "would you please go to prom with me? And let me be your man?"

The longer he watched the live feed, the harder it was to not burn his work space to the ground. The longer he listened, the harder he tweaked his claw he was attempting to fix. He was trying. He was trying so hard to stay calm. Because it's not like you'd say yes. But at the same time, no matter how often he kills or beats niggas up, "They just keep fucking touching you, puto cabrón!" He swipes the table, his tools and broken claw flying to the ground. Miles takes deep breaths, holding his head in his hands.

He stands up, turning off his phone and begins pacing. He didn't wanna see the rest of that. Why does he have to keep doing this? Don't they understand your his? Just his??? Yes, you're the shining light that keeps Brooklyn alive, yes, yes, this isn't news. But he's always with you. So why do they keep bothering you?

It doesn't matter because he's gonna keep killing them until they get the message. The more roaches he brings into the light, the better. He suddenly rushes to his phone and quickly dials your number, chest heaving as he tries to calm himself.

Your phone silently vibrates in your back pocket and your heart drops. It had to be Miles. Because he wasn't at school today and this definitely wouldn't have happened if he was here. You're so fucked, you think to yourself as everyone cheers at Travis's speech. And it goes silent again as they wait for your answer.

Suddenly, Travis is so hard to look at. You didn't want to be stared at like that when he's gonna die in the next few hours. Miles was gonna get him and it'd be your fault. He always said it wasn't and would caress your face as reassurance, but there's no excuse when he only kills these guys at school because they talk to you. And not for any other reason. You always have to be where the line is drawn.

"No, I can't go to prom with you." You say, chest lifting of the thousand pound weight that held it down. Travis didn't even look sad, he still had that adoring look in his eyes. And you then knew that he was faking all of this. "Why not? Is it because of Miles?" He stands, still holding your hand and shakes his head. "If he's bothering you, I could....get rid of him if you want. Cause that nigga, he a fucking weirdo. And he clearly, like, has you hostage or something, cause he ain't nothing special. Any one of us is better than him." He scoffs at the mention of him and his friends laugh with him.

You shake your head and take your hand away. "No, sorry, Travis. I just....don't wanna go." He rolls his eyes and smiles at you, picking up his sign. "Whatever. That's aight." He tosses it in the nearest trash can. You wonder if he even made that himself with the way he tossed it with zero regards. He turns back to you one last time and nods. "I'll holler. Let me know when you get rid of yo little guard dog. He be stinking the halls anyway."

And everyone dispersed.

You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. You think this city is going to be the death of you with how many times you've gotten unwanted attention based on your looks. You tense up once more when you remember that Miles was calling you. The sudden silence after multiple calls was never a good thing. You yanked your phone out of your pocket and saw the 20-something missed calls and whispered to yourself in fear.

Immediately, you began your journey to his place.

His room was dark and cold. Only the light from outside his window illuminated it. You softly dropped your backpack into the usual corner and backed up to sit on his bed, but your back softly collided with a warm wall that also wrapped it's arms around your torso. You flinched as Miles exhaled in your ear, his head resting on your shoulder. "Miles, what the hell...."

He squeezes you a little and backs you both up, until he brings you to sit on his lap on his bed. He shifts you, so that you're facing him, his hand caressing your face and rubbing your back. "Hermosa como siempre, mami. How was your day?"(Beautiful as always, mami.) He whispers it to you, to calm you down. You're visibly nervous at his actions, expecting him to explode any minute.

"Um...it was alright. I did my project in 3rd period and got a coffee drink with my lunch. And..... I got asked to prom." You stare down at him, watching him scan you up and down, and let him 'check' your pockets before resting his hands on your waist. "Yeah? Who asked?" He already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from you.

You severely struggled to tell him it was Travis. You were tired of him killing people. You were tired of the apologies from men who were beaten half to death because of you. You scrunched your eyebrows as your throat began to close.

"Hm?" He asked. You hated how calm he was about this. How he held you so dearly as you fidgeted with your uniform skirt. Tears built up in your eyes and you shook your head. Miles pulled you closer, immediately wiping your eyes. "No, no, por favor no llores, nena. No estés triste. I just want you to tell me who did it, that's all."(No, no, please don't cry, baby. Don't be sad.) You break into full out sobbing and wipe at your eyes.

"I don't- don't want to because you're gonna kill him!" You stutter and manage to spit out your words, voice wobbly. Miles shushes you and rocks you back and forth, resting your head on his chest. His voice rumbles in your ears when he speaks. "You don't have to worry about a thing when I'm here with you, N/n. All I want is for you to drop his name, and everything else doesn't matter."

He kisses your forehead sweetly, letting his lips linger for a few seconds. "Okay?" You nod and try to take deep breaths. You couldn't win against him. He probably already knew who proposed to you, and Travis's fate still wouldn't be unavoidable. "Travis." You felt immense guilt and despair the moment you dropped his name.

"Travis...." Miles repeats. Just putting his name in the air made him pissed all over again. He stays silent for a few seconds before tilting his head to the side. "I just realized why that name is so familiar," He starts. "That's that nigga who robbed and threatened you last year, ain't it?" Miles scoffs and turns to look at you. "Is that why you didn't leave when he brought up that sign? Cause of what he did to you?"

You scrunch your eyebrows at his words and sit up. "How do you know about that?" You didn't meet Miles until a month after you were robbed by Travis in your sophomore year. So, him knowing about that was weird, especially since you never brought it up to him before. Miles ignores your question and continues. "I should've known some shit was off." Miles places you on the bed and gets up, grabbing some clothes to change into.

You rush to stand in front of him to stop him. "Miles, wait! Please- please don't do this. He didn't even do anything to me. All he did is ask me out. I said no. What's wrong with that??"

"What's wrong with that is that nigga is gonna keep fucking getting at you until he can get into your pants, baby. I'm not stupid. These niggas know what they doin' riling you up and sending you back home to me crying and shit. Ain't you tired??" Miles begins to size you up, backing you towards his bedroom door, clothes clutched in his hand as he stares down at you.

"I am fucking tired. And I'm also tired of you ruining my life by making more rumors for niggas to spread about me. Nobody wants to be near me because of you, Miles!" You jab your finger into his chest and he grabs your hand. "You don't need nobody else." You hear his breathing speed up and realized you should've kept your mouth shut.

It's too damn silent for your liking. All you can hear is him and your heartbeat in your ears. "When the fuck have you ever needed anyone else besides me?.....I take care of you. I feed you, I do your fucking hair every morning, I walk you to and from school, I protect you. Es que no es suficiente?(Is that not enough?)" You don't respond and stare up into brown eyes that glare down at you. "How 'bout I show you how good you got it?" You try to pull your hand back, but his iron grip isn't letting up. "What.....? Miles, let me go."

"What's wrong, mi corazón? Don't wanna see?" Miles almost jokingly asks about your sudden concern. He steps into your space once more and firmly grabs your face. "Look at me when I tell you this,"

He shakes his head. "You don't know how to protect yourself. I'm the only one who knows how to keep you safe in these fucked up streets. When was the last time you felt protected before you met me? Huh? Cause I know you haven't. I'm meant to be here with you! I'm protecting you from the horrible fucking things that are happening out there that could've been happening to you, baby. You heard?"

You struggle to remove his hands from your face and he makes no move to stop the distress he's putting you in. "Okay, okay, Miles. Just...please stop."

Miles places a kiss onto your forehead before holding you in his arms. You sigh relief at the release of pressure and let him hold you. "Volveré pronto, okay? And then we can do whatever you want."(I'll be back soon) You allow yourself to relax and your eyes flutter shut. Sometimes you wonder how much it'll take for him to stop taking his obsession out on Brooklyn.

[giannan04]

Hiii, can you please write a Yandere San X reader fanfic? Maybe where he’s her therapist and he gets her to break up with her bf because he’s been obsessed with her? 🙏🏽make it dark pleaseee? Tyy in advance

Thanks for the request!💕🫶🏻I hope you like it, I tried to fit everything in the best I could 🥹🫶🏻I hope it’s dark enough for you 👀

-

Pairing: Therapist Yandere! Choi San x afab! Reader, Mention of Jung Wooyoung X afab! Reader

Genre: Yandere; thriller

Warnings: Manipulation, mentions of a toxic relationship, slight smut, character death, very slight gore.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 🔞

-

Dr. San Choi's reputation preceded him. He was the therapist everyone seemed to swear by. Patients praised his ability to get results where others failed, and he was known for treating some of the most complex mental health cases in the city. When your relationship with Wooyoung started having problems, your best friend Mingi suggested therapy. You were hesitant at first, but when he specifically recommended Dr. Choi, someone who had worked wonders for him, you decided to give it a try.

“Trust me, San’s the real deal,” Mingi said, leaning in with that serious look he gets when he really means something. “He helped me when I was going through one of the darkest periods in my life. If anyone’s gonna help you figure out what’s going on, it’s him.”

That’s how you found yourself meeting with San in his warmly lit office multiple times a week. From the start, Dr.Choi had a way of making you feel truly heard, like every word you said mattered. He never rushed through sessions and even went as far as canceling other appointments just so you could have more time when you needed it. He never told you that you were wrong, no matter how messy or complicated your relationship issues sounded. Instead, he listened with that same calm, reassuring expression that made you feel understood and validated. Over time, he even gave you his home address, offering to meet there if you ever needed to talk outside of office hours. You didn’t think much of it—you just figured he was incredibly dedicated to his work and to helping you through this tough time.

Over the weeks, San subtly guided you into believing that your relationship was toxic, that Wooyoung was holding you back. He never said it outright; instead, he asked questions that made you second-guess everything. "Do you feel like you're truly happy?" he'd ask, his voice gentle but insistent. "Sometimes, we stay in situations because we're afraid of being alone, not because they're right for us." Little by little, you found yourself reexamining your relationship with Wooyoung.

San’s advice seemed to play on repeat whenever you fought with Wooyoung. The tension between you two had been getting worse for months, with minor disagreements escalating into major arguments. Every time you argued with Wooyoung, you couldn’t shake the feeling that San’s words were right there with you. Even though part of you still hoped things could improve, the truth was hard to ignore: deep down, you knew San was right, there was no saving your relationship. It felt like there was no way to fix what had become broken, despite your hopes that things could somehow get better.

One night, after another argument left you in tears, you found yourself at San's apartment instead of your own. You needed someone to talk to, and San was the first person you could think of. You had caught Wooyoung with another girl, and you didn’t want to be alone. You needed to let everything out. Your heart was broken, and you know the only person you could talk to was San. You hadn't planned on it, but he'd always offered you to come to his place,and before you knew it, there you were, standing outside his front door.

When San opened the door, pleasantly surprised to see you. His brows furrowed as he glanced at his watch. “Y/N? What happened? It’s almost midnight,” he asked, concern replacing the confusion in his eyes as he noticed that you were sobbing. Tears covered your face, and you were so hurt and anxious that you were shaking. San’s heart broke seeing you like that. Without hesitation, his expression softened, and he gently took your trembling hand. “Come in,” he said, his voice soothing as he pulled you into the safety of his home.

You sat on his couch, trying to hold back more tears as you told him everything—how you found Wooyoung with another girl, how you felt like your relationship was falling apart. San listened intently, never taking his eyes off you, nodding with genuine empathy. When you finished, San leaned in closer, brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “You deserve so much better than this, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice low and comforting. “You deserve someone who would never even think of hurting you like that. Someone who truly values you.”

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his words and the way his hand lingered on your face, the soft caress sending a warmth through you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. His touch was tender yet firm, making you feel safe; cared for. You haven’t felt that way in a while. You caught your breath as he leaned in just a bit closer, his other hand gently resting on your thigh, as if waiting for your permission. “I can show you what it feels like to be treated right,” he murmured, his gaze darkening with desire. Despite the hesitation you felt at the back of your mind, you couldn’t deny the lust and attraction you felt in that moment. You leaned into his touch, your body responding before your thoughts could catch up.

His lips were dangerously close now, and there was no more space between you. All the tension, all the confusion, all the heartbreak you were feeling—everything faded away as his hands slid further up your skirt, placing his hands on your ass, pulling you into him with a gentle firmness that felt intoxicating. “Let me take care of you, Y/N,” San whispered, his words making your body tingle and heart flutter. And before you could even think to resist, you found yourself nodding, your body betraying you. In your head, you knew this was wrong, but your body felt so right. And you needed, no, deserved to be loved and cared for. It was about damn time.

“I want you, San… I need you. Please, take care of me,” you told him softly, never looking away from his brown almond-shaped eyes. That was all San needed to hear-the very words he had been waiting for since the moment you stepped into his office. San smirked, as he began undressing you with a deliberate slowness, savoring every second. He took in each sight of your beautiful body, pleased that it belonged to him.Before you knew it, he was fucking you right there in his living room, each touch, each kiss, each thrust leaving you wanting more. For the first time in months, Wooyoung and your relationship problems vanished from your mind, replaced by the warm sensation of San's hands on your body, the way he whispered your name like a prayer. The way his dick filled you up, the way he kissed your body was he made love to you.

The only things you were thinking about was how you never wanted San to stop making love to you. And San knew, finally… you belonged to him. San's hands rested possessively on your waist as he thrusted deeper and deeper inside you, your ass slapping against his thighs. You moaned uncontrollably, never wanting him to stop. You wanted to show him he had complete control over you. San’s eyes never left the sight of you, he loved seeing what a slut you could be for him, and how only he could make you feel this way. Smirking, he bent down close to your ear, whispered sweetly to you. "See? You feel it, don't you? How good we are together. You don't need him, Y/N. I'm the one who understands you, who can give you everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. Only I can make you feel this way. You belong to me, and I’m never letting you go."

The next morning, sunlight peeked through the curtains, but the warmth in the living room felt oddly suffocating. You noticed a heavy blanket was draped over your naked body. You must have fallen asleep after what happened last night, so San must’ve brought a blanket out for you. You glanced over and San was still lying beside you, sleeping peacefully. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist. Yawning, you reached for your phone which was on the floor next to you. You unlocked your phone, and your heart nearly skipped a beat when you saw a text from Wooyoung: I know I fucked up. But I love you. And I want us to work on things. I don’t want to lose you. Let me know when you’re ready to talk.

Your heart fluttered with a sense of hope, but before you could respond to the text, you felt San's eyes boring into you. You looked up at him, not realizing how closely he was watching your every move. You didn’t even hear him wake up. His expression remained calm, but the slight clenching of his jaw told you everything. He was furious. He must’ve seen you open the message on your phone when he woke up.

"Oh. Wooyoung texted me. He wants to fix things," you said, a little too eagerly, not noticing the anger settling into San's expression.

San's smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"That's... nice," he murmured, though his voice didn’t reflect that. He actually sounded pissed, but you could tell he wasn’t trying to show it. San stood up, wrapping the blanket around him as he walked towards his bedroom. “I have to get dressed. You can stay here as long as you need, Y/N. I actually have to head out for another appointment, but make yourself at home, alright?"

You nodded. “Okay, thank you,” you said sweetly, ignoring the tension.

San drove in silence, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. He replayed your excitement over Wooyoung's text in his mind, a bitter taste settling on his tongue. How could you be so blind? After everything he had done to get you away from Wooyoung, after showing you what real love felt like, you still had the nerve to be excited about that cheating scumbag reaching out! Pissed off didn’t even begin to describe how San felt. He was so angry his eyes twitched and his hands shook as he drove. He had to do something, he was about to have you all to himself until that mother fucker sent you that text.

His thoughts darkened further as he arrived at the home you shared with Wooyoung. His plan formed in his mind, making him feel only a little better. He knocked on the door, his face wearing the mask of a friendly, concerned therapist. Really, he was the furious therapist who wanted to fuck somebody up.

Wooyoung opened the door, blinking in surprise. "San? Aren't you YIN's therapist?"

San let out a cheerful laugh. "Yeah, I am! My office is getting renovated, so I thought I'd stop by and see how things are going. I know Y/ N's been having a tough time, and I wanted to touch base."

Wooyoung relaxed slightly, shrugging. "She's not here right now, but come in. We can talk about how she's been doing. Ive been wanting to talk to you, anyway. Maybe you can give me some insight."

San stepped inside, carefully observing every detail of the house, the place where you once tried to build a future with someone who never deserved you. They moved throughout the home and as Wooyoung started talking, San could feel his blood boiling but he knew he had to remain calm. Wooyoung would get what he deserved shortly.

Wooyoung led San into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. “Want some?” he asked, holding the bottle up. “No, thank you. I’m just here under professional circumstances” San smiled, watching as Wooyoung shrugged and opened the bottle. “Suit yourself,” he said, taking a sip. San and Wooyoung sat at the table, ready to discuss sessions. Which was what San wanted Wooyoung to think, anyway.

"Ever since she started therapy, it's like she's blowing everything out of proportion.

She's been acting like our problems are way bigger than they actually are, like she's ooking for an excuse to leave. I don't know, man... it feels like she's being pushed into seeing the worst in me." Wooyoung stared long and hard at San.

San's eyes darkened, his smile slipping for just a moment as he watched Wooyoung ramble on. How dare he accuse him of manipulating you? Wooyoung was the one who had been lying to you, hurting you, cheating on you, and who knows what else. Hell, this dick was the whole reason you needed therapy in the first place! And yet here he was, acting like the victim.

"You really think so?" San's voice was low, dangerous. He took a step closer to Wooyoung, who didn't seem to notice the shift in San's tone.

"Yeah, it's like she's-" Wooyoung was cut off by the sudden pressure of San's hand around his neck. Panic flashed in Wooyoung's eyes as he struggled against San’s grip.

“San, what…what the hell are you doing?" Wooyoung croaked, trying to break himself free. He managed to break out of the hold, shoving San back with surprising strength, but San's fury was beyond reason now. The therapist quickly regained control, his movements turning brutal as he rained down punches, each one fueled by the sickening memories of everything Wooyoung had done to hurt you.

"This is for Y/N," San hissed between clenched teeth, his eyes wild as he struck Wooyoung with relentless force. San began to stop on Wooyoung, not caring that his blood was getting thrown into the air.

"For every tear she shed because of you."

Wooyoung's resistance weakened as blood dripped from his split lips and broken nose. San's breaths were ragged as he lifted Wooyoung's head by his hair, glaring into his fading eyes. “Pl-please, man…don’t do this. I love Y/n. I never hurt her that much. Believe me”, Wooyoung tears mixed with the blood covering his face satisfied San beyond reason. “Sorry, but with you gone, Y/n will be happier. If you really loved her, you wouldn’t mind dying.” With a final surge of strength, San twisted his hand, the sickening crack of Wooyoung's neck snapping echoing in the room as he tore his head clean off.

The lifeless expression on Wooyoung's face was frozen in terror as San calmly wiped his hands on a towel he found in the kitchen. The sight of Wooyoung's head dangling by his fingers didn't faze him-in fact, he was feeling a sense of satisfaction

San returned to his apartment, already mentally preparing to tell you to ignore Wooyoung’s text, that he didn’t deserve you. But when he entered his home, he found you pacing the living room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand.

"San, I've been thinking... maybe I should give Wooyoung another chance," you blurted out. You didn't notice how San's entire demeanor shifted, his smile growing unnervingly cold.

"Why would you even consider that, Y/N?" San's voice was sharper than you expected, laced with barely-contained fury. You thought your therapist would’ve been happy for you, that you were ready to work things out. “After everything he's put you through, why would you care? Especially after what we did last night."

His words cut through you like ice. You hadn't anticipated such a strong reaction from him. Your face turned bright red and you avoided his gaze. "I... I don't know. I guess I was just confused. I just wanted to feel loved but I’m in love with Wooyoung, and it’s hard to let go of someone you cared about for so long."

San's eyes narrowed, his patience thinning. "You shouldn't have even cared when he texted you. Do you think that was fair to me? Letting me be the one to comfort you, only to get excited over him? And then you let me fuck you-" His words dripped with venom as his eyes blazed with barely-restrained anger. “You’re a worthless whore. Disgusting… I don’t know how I’m even looking at you right now. I shouldn’t have felt bad for you all of those times you came to my office, crying about him. You deserve to be treated like shit!”, his words dripped with venom, his face turning red as he screamed in your face. Your ears throbbed and you broke down in tears. San was scaring you, and the things he was saying to you hurt.

You took a step back, sobs shaking your body. San... I didn't mean for things to get so complicated… please stop yelling at me, you’re scaring me!,” you put your hands in front of your face, just in case he was going to starting hitting you.

San's expression hardened, and without another word, he grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the living room. "I think it's time I show you something, Y/n.

You nodded, unsure of what he had to show you. For some reason, there was a feeling in your stomach, a gut feeling. Something was off. The unease grew as he led you to a trash bag that was sitting in front of the front door. “What’s that?,” you asked, confused. Why on earth was he showing you a trash bag? Did he want you to take the garbage out?

San laughed, but it wasn’t humorous. With a single swift motion, San tore the trash bag open, revealing the gruesome sight inside.

Wooyoung's severed head stared back at you, lifeless eyes wide open in horror. His olive skin had turn a sickly gray color, and a stench burned your nose. Your breath caught in your throat as you stumbled back, terror freezing you in place. You screamed, your hands covering your eyes as you dropped to the floor. “Why… why would you do this?”, you covered your face, as you choked on snot and tears. Your body shook and between the crying, the smell of rotting flesh, and the sight of the love of your life’s body-less head was all too much. You stared up at San. Someone you trusted with your problems, someone you felt safe with, was a monster. San looked at you, a twisted grin on his face.

"Now, Y/N, tell me... are you still confused about who really cares about you?"

-

I’m still taking requests everyone, I’ll write anything🫶🏻❤️

[beneathashadytree]

HEY GUYS! LONG POST HERE, BUT PLEASE READ🙏🏽

I am genuinely appalled by the discourse ongoing in the LNDS fandom these past few days—but above all, I am severely disappointed in what had started out as one of the most inclusive and sweet fandoms I’ve ever been in. I have a few things to say, so in this post I’m trying to put all my thoughts to words. Apologies if I sound harsh, but I’m genuinely livid. Also, please ignore any typos. I’m not wearing my glasses while word-vomiting.

First off, for a fandom that is composed of mostly adults, you guys have been acting terribly childishly. It’s 2024, and yet people are still unironically shaming others for “switching up on their favs” as if a person owes 2D characters any loyalty. Let people enjoy things. The novelty of Sylus and how he’s quite literally 6 months behind the other 3 love interests makes people want to catch up on the enjoyment of him all at once. He’s still such a brand new character and concept, so there’s no wonder everyone’s hyped up over him.

I’ve seen people get genuinely mad at other players and writing whole think-pieces about this. I promise you guys, the company making this game is still benefiting whether you’re pouring your money into Sylus or any one of the previous 3. We’re all happy to have an interesting character pop up among the roster now, and we’re taking our time getting to know him. Doesn’t make any of the first 3 any less loved. I genuinely don’t remember this amount of nastiness when solo events for each of the guys used to drop.

In fact, if the popularity thing is worrying you, going off MLQC (the company’s past game) the character who was last added was—eventually, after the initial hype died down—kicked off to the sidelines in most major events and was given the least content, and was the least favorite of fans.

Secondly, and this has my blood boiling, there is an insane amount of entitlement and rudeness I’ve seen on my timeline concerning how people characterize the men—particularly Rafayel.

Absolutely nothing warrants this shitty attitude towards other creators for how they depict characters in their fics. It seems you guys feel protected behind a screen and think it gives you the right to bully strangers online. Fanfiction is for fantasizing about your favs; for letting your imagination run wild. If this were a character analysis, then yes, maybe I’d agree that inaccuracies are aggravating. However, in fanfiction, there are zero rules, especially when it comes to smut.

Sexual preferences are not equivalent to a person’s whole personality—so whether he’s written as a dom, a sub, a switch, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, this has nothing to do with his kindness, gentlemanliness, passion, power, ruthlessness, snark, or whatever minuscule aspect of his character makes up his lovely whole and matters to you.

I think this circles back to a lack of ability to separate sexual matters and personality, because how else do people interpret fics depicting him in a certain manner as them erasing his character? They might overlap, but they can very well be mutually exclusive. I’ve seen incredibly sweet and gentle men irl who were absolute doms in bed, and I’ve seen powerful and passionate men who were reduced to tears between the sheets. There is barely any correlation whatsoever, and if anything, claiming otherwise is what I consider piss-poor media literacy and reading-comprehension.

My third point is that for some reason, there have been many, many posts and replies on here where I’ve seen people just straight-up spread pure hate for the characters. Maybe this bothered me in particular because I’m an OT3 (OT4 now!) and absolutely adore all of them, but I find no logical reason for “yucking someone’s yum” when we’re talking about liking the characters of an Otome game—a genre of video games which is made to literally cater to the tastes of as many people as possible.

It’s especially disheartening to see when it’s at a time like this, when new content is about to drop, and you find in the replies of every other post/discussion at least a few people spewing hate and disgust at Sylus. Again, so many people are incredibly excited about him. Why is there a need to rain on everyone’s parade, especially in such an unsolicited manner?

This fandom originally started as a safe space for people of all races, backgrounds, genders, sexualities, and personalities to bond over our mutual love for characters. All I’ve seen on my TL lately (in terms of discussion) is negativity, and it’s such a fucking let-down. I hope whatever the fuck has happened to this fandom cools down after a bit. It’s probably exaggerated and very in-your-face rn, cause more and more people are downloading LNDS, so the probabilities of finding people being nasty are increasing. But I seriously don’t want to grow to resent this fandom and find myself distancing myself from it to protect my peace.

Let’s all remember to be kind towards other players, to not act entitled or bratty about the characters, and to try and mind our own business if we see content that doesn’t suit our tastes.