#she’s sweet but there’s things that she’s done that makes me side eye her

[httpdwaekki]

soft raven | b.c.

summary: you were picking out nail polish, when a stray channie comes to help.

wc: 2.4k

warnings: nothing just got lost in the sauce LMAO.

a/n: okay so! i've decided i'm making this a little series of painting their nails/them helping you paint yours. i've already written felix's version but let me know who you guys wanna see next :3. anyway, i hope you enjoy! remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

my library

minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin

(photos are not mine. credit to owners!)

you were sat at your desk, glasses slipping down your nose, headphones sat atop your head. you had one headphone pushed behind your ear as your monitor displayed a random adventure time episode. you had various nail polishes displayed in front of you, deciding which combo you wanted to do. 

unbeknownst to you, chan was leaning against the door frame, watching the internal debate play out as your eyes dart to each color. he had been in his office/studio working on a few tracks while you were keeping yourself entertained at your desk, playing games with felix, watching shows, etc.

 now you were having a creative war in your brain, trying to come up with unique color combinations and patterns. chan stayed there for a moment, heart swelling with love and overwhelming adoration. he watched as pick out different colors, tongue sticking out slightly as you examined the bottles carefully.

he pushes off the door frame, walking up to you, placing his arms on the back of your chair,. you felt movement behind you causing you to look at the culprit. you smile, pushing up your glasses, “hi bub.” turning your attention back to the small bottles filled with every color of the rainbow.

“what are you doing, bug?” he asks, leaning against your chair, glancing over your shoulder. “i’m trying to decide what color i wanna paint my nails.” you moved to lean back against your chair, causing the aussie boy behind you to shift, wrapping his arms around you.

you lean your head back, lips pursed, silently asking for a kiss. he smiles before placing a sweet kiss to your soft lips. you pull apart before looking forward, leaning your head against one of his arms wrapped around you. “ can i pick out your colors?” he asks, staring at the miscellaneous colorful bottles.

your cheeks warm, “you want to?” he nods, before releasing you, moving to grab your old chair in the corner of the room, pulling it up to your desk. you scoot over, giving him space to slide in next to you.

he becomes serious, analyzing each bottle individually, before grabbing two colors, a rich, inky black and a soft, light purple. you look at him with waiting eyes, he sat there looking at the colors for a moment before he looks over to you. his signature side smile, dimple on full display as he slides the two bottles to you.

“these two?” you ask, grabbing the bottles out of his hand. he nods, “can we try something?” you hum, prompting him to continue. “so i saw a video of a girl getting her nails done and she got her nails done one color and then painted her pinky black.” you nod, turning towards him. 

“and then she painted her boyfriends nails and she painted all of them black and then painted his pinky the color she painted her nails.” he finished shyly, looking down at the two bottles in your hand. “so you want to paint my nails with the purple and then my pinky black and then i’ll do the opposite for you?”

you watch as chan’s cheeks slightly reddened as he lightly nods. you giggle, placing your hand on his cheek. “that’s so cute baby, i’d love to do that with you.” you quickly kiss his cheek before letting out a happy squeal.

you shake your arms in excitement before turning back to your desk, you take off your head phones, placing them on your monitor. you quickly put all of the other colorful bottles away where they belong before grabbing all the things you need to prep his nails. you had already prepped yours since you were planning on painting them anyway. 

you look back over to the aussie boy next to you,` looking at you with pure adoration, falling more and more in love with you. “what?” you ask, looking at him with big eyes. he smiles, shaking his head, “nothing, what you got there?” he points to the various tools you set out.

you explain each one as you grab the nail polish remover and some cotton pads. “so the stick is gonna push back your cuticles and the clippers are gonna trim them before i use the nail polish remover to remove any oil on your nails.” he listened intently as you explained each item.

“okay so here’s the question, do you want to paint my nails or do you want me to do both?” you ask looking back to him. “maybe you do both this time and i’ll watch and then next time i’ll do your’s.” you nod before grabbing the towel you use specifically for doing your nails.

you lay the towel out in front of him before grabbing his hands and placing one on the fabric, keeping the other in your hand. “okay, i’m gonna clean your nails quick and then i’ll start painting.” he nods before looking at the screen in front of you, the cartoon still playing on the screen.

you notice this, placing his hand on your thigh before grabbing the headphones, “here.” you whisper, gently placing the headphones over his ears. he looks over at you with a pout. “what’s wrong bubba?” you ask, small smile making it’s way on your lips at his cute antics.

“now i can’t hear you.” he whined, his pout somehow bigger. you giggle before pushing back one of the speakers off his ear. “better?” you ask. he immediately smiles before turning his attention back to the animated jake and finn in front of you. you smile to yourself as start pushing back his cuticle.

“if it hurts please let me know, i don’t want to hurt you okay?” you look up to him, catching the slight nod as he was already engrossed in the show. you smile at your boyfriend before going back to work.

you push each cuticle back with care and precision before placing his hand on the towel before grabbing the other, repeating the process. you place his second hand back on the towel before grabbing the first and the clippers.  “try to stay still okay? i don’t wanna cut you.” he looks over after hearing your serious tone.

he smiles, giving you a firm nod before turning back to the screen. you slowly make your way around each finger, mindful not to get anywhere close to his skin. you finish the first hand once again moving to the second before repeating the process once again.

you put his hand back onto the desk, before grabbing the base coat, shaking the bottle. the movement caught chan’s attention, “oh what’s that? base coat?” he asks, looking at the bottle of clear polish in your hands. you nod your head, humming and you unscrew the brush from the bottle.

you place the bottle on the desk before putting your hand out, waiting for him to place his in yours. he gives you his hand, returning his attention to the screen, fully engrossed in the animations.

you paint each nail with precision, tongue poking out in concentration. after you finish the first hand, you place it back on the towel before tapping his other hand causing him to move the  second one towards you, eyes glued to the screen. you can’t help but look at him with pure adoration, the way he looks captivated by the show while fully trusting you to do whatever you want to his nails.

your cheeks warm before you grab his hand, painting each nail with the clear polish. you placed his hand back down, screw the brush back into place, turning your attention to the screen as you wait for his nails to dry. luckily you refuse to watch anything without subtitles so you were able to follow along easily.

you lay your head on his shoulder, placing an arm on his thigh, drawing random shapes on the soft skin. you feel him place a long loving kiss on your head before laying his on this same spot. you both stay like that for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence.

after a few minutes you gently tap his thigh, signaling him to move. he let out a small whine before moving, looking at you with a pout. “don’t give me that look, mister.” you scold him playfully. “you’re the one that asked me to paint your nails.” he mimics you before huffing, turning back to the screen.

“hey.” you whine, catching his attention. once he turned to you, it was your turn to pout, his eyes softened immediately “that was mean.” your frown deepens, jokingly crossing your arms. “oh baby, i’m sorry.” he coos, attempting to apologize. you turn your head the other way, nose up, egging him on.

“my bug, please.” he begs, you can only assume his puppy dog eyes are on full display. when you don’t react he brings out the big guns. he scoots his chair impossibly closer to you while pulling you closer to him. “sweetheart, please.” he begs, grabbing your arm, entwining your fingers before bringing your hand to his lips, placing a sweet kiss to the back of it.

you look over at him, actively fighting the smile attempting to make its way onto your face. “come on sweetheart, you know i was just playing.” he says, his voice dripping with sweetness. you can feel your face getting warm as you cave. “that’s not fair.” you grumble, pulling your hand away, causing him to pull back, scooting away slightly.

“what’s not fair, sweetheart?” he asks, feigning innocence. you glare at him. “you know what, don’t play coy.” you accuse, scooting your chair back into the desk. you glance over catching the sly smirk gracing his lips, fully aware of the effect that pet name has on you.

you roll your eyes, small smile on your lips as you grab the bottle filled with the dark polish. you shake it quickly as chan settles next to you, placing his hands back on the towel. you unscrew the brush, placing it on the desk and take one of his hands before painting each nail.

taking even more time than you did with the previous clear coat. taking extra care to make sure each nail is coated perfectly with no streaks and nothing on the surrounding skin. after painting the first four with the darker shade before grabbing the lighter, lavender shade, painting his pinky with the same caution.

after finishing the first coat you repeat the same careful process with his other hand. your tongue starts poking out as your concentration increases, fully committed to the task at hand. so committed you didn’t realize chan had abandoned watching the nostalgic cartoon to watch you meticulously paint each nail with care.

you continue to repeat the process for a second coat, ensuring the color would but rich and vibrant. it’s only when you finish painting his second pinky purple that you notice his stare. you lay his hand back on the towel before looking over to him, realizing he’d been staring at you, causing you to do a double take.

“what?” you ask, pushing up your glasses that were slipping down your nose, tilting your head to the side. his cheeks redden slightly, before smiling and shaking his head. “nothing.” he looks down at his nails, his smile getting impossibly bigger. “it looks so good bug, thank you.” you smile.

“i’m glad you like them.” you say before grabbing the top coat giving it a shake. “alright i’m gonna give that a few minutes to dry then i’ll put on the top coat. and then once that’s dry you’ll be all set.” he nods, turning his attention back to the cartoon.

you place the clear bottle on your desk before scooting slightly closer to him and the desk. you relax back in your chair, placing your arm on his back, hand landing in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. he lets out a hum of satisfaction, leaning his head back into your hand like a cat.

a few minutes pass and you decide it’s time to apply the top coat. you sit up, taking your hand out of his hair, shaking the bottle once more. you hear a whine coming from beside you. “what’s wrong?” you ask, looking over him.

he pouts before letting out a yawn. “i was almost asleep.” he say through the yawn. “well let me finish this quick then we can go lay down okay?” he nods, before yawning once more. you made quick work of coating each nail with the clear polish. “ alright sleepy head, you’re all done.” you screw the top back on, gathering all your tools and paints, putting them away neatly.

“what about your nails?” he asks through a yawn once more. “i’ll do them tomorrow, right now i think it’s time for bed.” you say, taking the headphones off his head, running your hand through his soft hair. he gives you an understanding hum, before closing his eyes.

you place your headphones in their respective place before closing all your tabs and shutting off the colorful pc. you stand up, chan following closely behind. “just be mindful of your nails okay? the top coat is still wet.” you warn helping him up before pushing the chair back to the corner. he comes up behind you, placing his arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder before following you out of the room.

you flip the light off as you walk out, making your way to your shared bedroom. you switch on your bedside lamp before you round the bed to your sleepy boy’s side, giving his arm a tap, signaling him to let go. once he lets go, you move the blankets, giving him space to lay down. 

he sits down, moving to get under the covers with your help. “careful bubba.” you remind him, as he settles into the soft mattress. he lifts his hands as you move the blanket to cover him. you round the bed sliding under the blankets before putting adventure time on the tv and turning off the light.

chan opens his arms for you to lay in, burrowing into his chest, getting comfy. “i love you, sweetheart.” he mumbled, kissing your head before letting out another yawn. “i love you too, channie.” you say, placing a kiss above his heart as his breathing evens out, taking him into dreamland as you follow slowly behind him.

[firemenenthusiast]

—“like earth orbiting the sun”

farleigh start x fem!reader

summary: farleigh start! who makes his girlfriend his entire personality.

content warning: sfw, sweet fluff all the wayyy, farleigh being down bad for reader. farleigh being sweet (rare), suggestive themes at the end but just a little bit

a/n: giggling, kicking my feet, rolling on the bed while writing this. farleigh just one chance pls

farleigh had always told himself and people around him that love’s a scam. he was taught that family are supposed to love each other. but after learning about what happened between his family and his mom, why should he believe in such thing ? after they hurt his mom in the name of love ? he refused to believe in such thing. until he felt it himself.

-ever since he’s fallen for you he’s willing to use all of the love he has on you. ever since you show up into his life its like his earth stopped orbiting the sun and started orbiting you instead. you’re his new-found love. but farleigh’s still the same old farleigh who’s too proud to say it. so he shows it instead. you understood long ago that his love language is act of service that he only does for you. anyone else that wants him to do something out of his will can fuck off. so he said.

“you’re going out again ?” you swiftly turn to face your roommate sitting on her bed, folding her clothes rather messily. she couldnt care less if theyre not stacked symmetrically, just wanted to have the mountain of unfolded clothes out of her chair. “of course, its friday night! aren’t you ?” you cheerfully say as your hands busy putting on the earrings you’d picked out earlier. “is that new ?” she asks, eyes squinting in an attempt to have a closer look before getting up to actually take a look. “-and no, i’d rather stay in. wow these are pretty- if they ever go missing best bet that’s me”. you hold still as she examines the newly bought earrings before chuckling at her joke. “yeah, farleigh saw them when he was walking around town” you hear her groan before plopping herself down onto her bed. you giggle at her response. “im sorry! i promise to not mention his name anymore” you raise both your hands to surrender before letting out a laugh.

you couldn’t blame her, you’d be annoyed too. its always farleigh this, farleigh that. farleigh bought me this, farleigh bought me that- and you love him for that. always letting you in on stuff. he tells you everything too. thanks to him, you can atleast watch out for those people he’d gossip about, so you dont get into their mess. if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t know anything. you’re not the type to hop around searching for gossips but you love hearing about them, then fueling his gossips with your insults. in that sense you’re fit for each other, and you’re happy to have your own personal source of campus gossip. “do i look okay ?” you take one last look at your reflection in the bodysized mirror hung on the wall, smoothing out your casual dress. nothing too sexy or uncomfortable, you just wanted to chill and have some drink. “you look absolutely gorgeous like always m’darling” your roommate teases you before giggles erupt between the two of you. “where are you going anyways? need your location” she asks, not bothered to look as she’s more focused on folding a tshirt.

“the pub- like always. farle-“ his name almost slip your tongue as you receive a warning look from your roommate. you widen your eyes as you mouth an ‘okay’ before saying, “well he, who shall not be named- invited me. wants me there, he said” she rolls her eyes. “he always wants you EVERYWHERE” “bet you’re there when he goes shopping for new underwear”. she jokes. you look at her with your head cocked to the side, confused. her jaw drops as she points at you “oh my gosh, you’ve totally done that !” she gives you the most dramatic mind blown look ever “is that not normal ?” “fucks sake its not !” you shrug at her, not caring for her going ballistic. it’s not like you’re always there with him anywhere. shit, are you ?. you cant help but give it a quick thought. well you sometimes have classes buildings away from each other, so no, you think. a normal response for someone in denial. making sure you’ve put everything you need in your purse, you blow your roommate a kiss before waving her bye bye to which she jokingly shoos you away

the pub’s busier than other nights with it being the weekend and all but mostly because you and farleigh’s friendgroup members are all bunched up together tonight. courtesy of felix offering to cover every round of drinks. who would pass up on an offer like that ? you’re approaching the bar, lips letting out singsongs as your fingers play with the new earring on your right earlobe. farleigh had offered to walk you from your dorm but you declined, telling him to save you a seat instead. so he did just that. also because its just a 5-minute walk or so. the atmosphere in the pub getting thick as he’s getting antsy waiting, almost barking at his friends who tried to sit in the seat designated for you by him. “that’s for my girlfriend you dumb” he told them. as felix walks towards the table at which they’re all circled around, farleigh’s head cocks seeing the pub’s door being pushed from outside. he almost jumped out his seat seeing that it’s you. “there she is !” he exclaims, he’s quick to get you at the door. everyone else cheers seeing you walk with your hand in farleigh’s, fingers intertwined.

as soon as you’re both seated he has his hand around your waist, resting at your thigh. “how was the walk ?” he asks, his nose almost nudging yours. you lean in to give him a quick kiss before nodding, “it was nice, a little breezy” you told him without giving it a second thought. he quickly took off his knitted cardigan-like sweater to drape it over your shoulders. you giggle at his reaction, you didn’t think he’d react that way as you weren’t trying to imply that you were cold. as he is admiring your pretty face, he notices the shiny thing on your earlobe. “is that—“ his hand reach up to touch the earrings, a huge smile appears on your face before nodding. “wanted to show you. you pick the prettiest things for me. maybe i should bring you when i shop for jewelries” its been long since you last went jewelry shopping. probably since you started dating him cuz he always buy you shiny things that he’d stumble upon. he spends a lot of time looking to pick the prettiest among them. he would buy them all but he thinks that it would only show that he’s lazy. he wants you to know how much he loves you and the time he spends picking them out shows it.

farleigh would go absolutely feral whenever there’s like a bazaar on campus where students set up their businesses’ booths cuz that means there will be girls selling their handmade jewelries. he thinks they’re so pretty that it would be a waste if they’re not being worn by you. bazaars happen maybe a couple times a year and the girls already know him cuz he spends the longest time looking at their rings, necklaces and earrings trying to pick out something for you. the first time he came by the booth they thought he was gonna insult them, maybe say things like ‘aren’t you too old to be making bracelets?’ or call their handmade pieces ugly. they tried to avoid him until he picks one of them up without saying anything, taking a closer look before handing them one that caught his eyes the most. one of the girls gathered all her courage to ask him who was he thinking of buying the stuff for and he proudly said “its for my girlfriend, she loves handmade jewelries” as they nod at his answer he started going on and on talking about you, stuffs you’re interested in so they can help pick out what would suit you best. “—yeah she’s in class right now, wouldn’t want her to know im here. want to suprise her with these. she’ll go wild” a grin plastered across his face imagining your reaction. sometimes its tmi for the girls but they dont care, they think its the sweetest.

farleigh doesn’t necessarily think buying you the most expensive things is the best way to show his love, its just as long as he’s poured much thought into his gifts. he fixates on thinking whether or not you’ll love the gifts he thinks of buying you and if you probably won’t, he’ll find something else.

“they’re only pretty when you wear them. you make them look pretty” he whispers into your ear before taking your hand into his. he lean in to kiss you before pulling away just to kiss you again. and again. he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb before looking back up at you. you’re getting all giddy from the attention he’s giving, your cheeks heating up. “yo guys— if you want to do romance maybe get a room” you hear one of his friends yell from across the pub. he flips him off before saying, “why were you looking at us anyways, loser ?” farleigh’s quick to rebut as the others’ reactions fill the room. he gives the guy a disgusted look before looking back at you, who is smiling. “sorry baby, would you like your usual ?” you nod before he gets up to go get your signature drink that you always have everytime you’re here. you’re not really into the heavy stuffs so he doesn’t force you to do them. he only does that to oliver.

apart from saving your seat, picking out jewelries for you and always getting you your drink to make sure it’s safe in his hands, he always want you with him everywhere he goes. just like your roommate had told you. he doesn’t care if he has to walk all the way across a field or a hallway to get to your classes, he’ll make sure he’s waiting outside for you by the time you’re finished so he could have you beside him everywhere he goes. and you dont care following him around. sometimes its just meaningless walks around campus but you’re happy as long as he’s with you. you’re his bestest friend. his home. he’d be telling you jokes as he walks, getting in front of you to make big movements to accompany his storytelling like he’d never run out of energy. like you’re his source of energy. you would give him the best reactions to his stories and gossips and he‘d fall even more in love with you if that’s even possible

he was already quite famous on campus before dating you, but now almost literally everyone knows the both of you as THE couple. he would casually mention you everywhere he goes when you’re not with him, which is probably only the times when you have different classes. and you’re always with him too. the cafeteria, the pub, the field (he loves picnics with you), his homeroom, your homeroom, the random benches along the building, the hallways. its always the two of you. somehow you never got sick of each other probably cuz he’s nice to you. sure, there are times he’d accidentally lash out on you about something that got to him but he’s quick to make it up to you. he couldn’t imagine not having you everywhere with him. his buddies have all grown accustomed to you now, unlike the first few weeks when he started dating you. they got soo annoyed everytime farleigh brought you to hang out with them. he’s always out and about telling them like, “my girlfriends coming later” or “gotta wait for my girlfriend first” before actually hanging out with them. they were irritated cuz you weren’t as fun before, back when you were just being introduced to them. bros before hoes they’d told him. farleigh made sure to let them know you’re not just some ‘hoe’ and after that they’re basically pretty chill with you as soon as they realised you’re just like farleigh, but in female form. you get along with them and their convos just as well as farleigh. so they dont mind you tagging along anymore

its becoming his whole personality, dating you. its always you before all else. sentences like, ‘cant, gotta go get my girlfriend’ or ‘my girlfriend would love this’ or ‘the other day my girlfriend-‘ and ‘did you know ? my girlfriend-‘ are converging into his daily dictionary. you, are just the same. always mentioning him in everything because you do everything with him. like it or not the story’s gonna involve him cuz he was there. or it happened to him. or he was the one who told you. the two of you set the dating standards so high that the girls only want what the both of you have when it comes to relationships. cuz the both of you made it possible, you’d become the couple everyone put their trust in love in.

you let out a laugh joining the others at something farleigh had said before taking a sip of the drink he brought you earlier. he has his one hand around your waist, grabbing your hand and the other on the table, near your drink, holding a lit ciggie in between his index and middle finger. he offers you a smoke to which you lean in. he holds the cig for you, watching you pull a puff before taking a puff himself. he closes the distance between you, leaning in to blow the smoke into your mouth, shotgunning.

the swirls of smoke mixing yours before he kisses you, deep. one of his favourite things to do with you. his hand that was holding your hand reaches into the hem of your dress, teasingly playing with it. he grins as his eyes bore into yours, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. you giggle at his fingers dragging along your thigh, tickling you. he nudges his nose against yours before getting up, gently pulling at your hand. you follow him as you giggle, already knowing where this is going. he pulls your hand, walking towards the door before saying, “ciao everyone, and you-“ he’s pointing at the dude yelling at you guys earlier,

“-thank you for your suggestion” he chuckles as the whole room roar in mixed reactions. safe to say your poor roommate slept alone that night.

taglist: @june-ebgert @radioloom @themoonchildwhofell @love-me-pls @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda @khxna

[owlespresso]

the coring, the goring

alpha!blade/beta!reader/omega!luocha you are a beta courier. kafka asks of you a favor. tags: filth and spice below like you wouldn't believe, extremely dubious consent, luocha and blade are freaks but that's nothing new, prone bone pt 3 of my part in @lorelune's a/b/o collab. they've been extremely generous enough to beta read all three parts and give feedback. i could not have done this without them! part 1, part 2, collab masterlist

Kafka shows up at your apartment, one afternoon. After Blade stayed over, flayed you open, left your tender underbelly exposed to the pale moonlight. You still don’t know how you feel about him. You do, however, know how you feel about her.

You’ve never told her where you live, but it doesn’t surprise you that she knows. She lingers in the doorway, leaned up against the left side. Her coy smile is more subdued than usual.

“I need your help with something,” she says. At least she isn’t wasting time on the pleasantries, today. That’ll get her to leave quicker, and that’s pretty much all you’re concerned with. You still blanch, because she wants something from you. That’s always a dire sign. Something in your life is about to go awry.

“You can’t find someone else? I’m a bit busy today.” you narrow your eyes at her. Her smile tightens. Whatever she’s come here for, it must be urgent. 

“Whatever your clients pay you, I’ll double it for the days you miss. Every single one. I’ll even throw in some of those honey candies you like to sweeten the deal.”

“Days?” you blink, already beginning to calculate the potential gains and losses in your head. Missing several shifts could lose you a few clients—could you wheedle her into paying you that difference until you find new ones?

“Yes, days,” Kafka twirls a lock of her hair absentmindedly. “You see, Bladie has a little problem that needs delicate taking care of—” she begins, voice pitching up, preparing to wind around the crux of the whole thing until you lose your mind. 

You cut her off there. “Just give it to me straight.”

“Always so forward,” she pouts. Her voice winds up like she’s about to give you a scolding, but she flattens out, lips curling into a lazy smile. “I like that about you.”

“Bladie is in rut,” she continues. Slowly, like she’s explaining the concept to a child. “He has someone to take care of him—that merchant, the blonde one. The only problem is, well… their paths don’t make them entirely compatible.”

Your lips twitch into a frown. Destruction and Abundance, on opposite ends of the spectrum. If they were both normal people, it wouldn’t pose a problem… but you have no idea if Blade’s unique condition could cause complications. Regardless, you’re not sure why she’s telling you. This isn’t your problem.

“They’ll need a mediator—” she begins.

You’ve heard enough. “Absolutely not.”

“Aw, c’mon. These two have been barking up your tree for more than a month and you’re not curious?” she teases, 

“No.”

She says your name. Your spine goes rigid. Something sweet and cloying pricks its claws into the soft flesh of your consciousness. This is suddenly no longer a negotiation.

“You don’t have to do anything. You just have to be… present, in case Blade’s mara rears its ugly head.”

“You could do that,” you point out.

Kafka shrugs. “I could, but that isn’t the only benefit of having an emanator of Harmony around. I can’t mediate like you can,” You hold your tongue only because you know she’s right. “I know it’s a hassle, but I’ll make it worth your while. And I’ll pay you triple of what you would have made this week.”

You narrow your eyes. “And if his rut doesn’t last a week?” Unease churns at the bottom of your gut. This isn’t your wheelhouse. To delve to the depths of intimacy when you haven’t even waded the shallows is unwise at the very best, life-endangering at the worst. You’re not attached to Luocha and Blade in the way they are attached to each other. And the moment you lower the drawbridge and weaken your walls, you anchor yourself even further to the Luofu.

“You’ll be paid the same, regardless.” Kafka says, as though it’s in any way comforting.

You loosen the tensed muscles of your jaw. It’s not as though you… dislike Blade. You think about him, early in the morning, when you’re too sleepy to get your thoughts straight. You remember keenly the press of his lips, the smell of him as he breached your personal space, permitted himself to your skin—

You shut your eyes. You feel too hot, all of the sudden, “Can I get that in writing?” 

“If it’ll make you feel better, I can wire you the money right now—” Kafka slides her phone out of her pocket, nimble fingers clicking all over the screen. You still aren’t comforted. 

“No, it’s fine,” you squeeze the bridge of your nose, already feeling the oncoming headache. You can’t believe you’re doing this. “When do I have to be there?”

—

The house looks the same as it always does. There’s nothing new on the breeze. Nothing beside the rustling of the leaves and the chirping of the birds. You knock on the door. Luocha stands in the doorway, red robe hanging off his shoulder. Bruises bloom on his skin like blood in water, spots of bluish-purple that run up the left side of his neck. You blink, speechless. He’s greeted you dressed like this, before, but he’s never looked so ragged. So run-down. His lips are kiss-swollen, lit up an angry pink. Flaxen blond flows down his shoulders like a river stream, strands sent awry in several places—they look like they’ve been tugged at, manhandled in a way you never imagined he would allow.

“Oh, good. You’re here,” he chimes, and steps aside. He motions for you to come in. It’s a threshold you’ve crossed many times, but something about this feels permanent. There’s a heavy feeling in the air. The faint scent of something spiced and smoked lingers throughout the entryway and living room. Unease prickles up the back of your neck. The door clicks shut behind you. A hand lands on your shoulder. “No need to be so tense, my dear Courier. Nothing bad will happen to you here.”

“What exactly will happen here? Kafka gave me the rundown, but…”

“Well, that depends on you,” Luocha hums. The warm hand on your shoulder slides down to your bicep. He stands behind you, a solid stroke of heat along your back. “I know I speak for us both when I say we would very much like you to participate, but all you really have to do is… watch.” He breathes the word, breath soft and hot against your ear.

He slips away from your side. The space he occupied at your back feels cool and empty. You shiver.

“—And you’ll have to intervene should anything go awry. While I can sate his carnal urges, the same cannot be said for his mara,” Luocha continues, cracking open the bedroom door. 

“You came,” Blade’s voice rumbles, raspy with sleep and something else. He’s laid across the bed like a lounging panther, appraising you with eyes half-open. The long stretch of his body is completely bare, all broad muscle and softness in certain places. He’s taken the bandages off his chest, you realize after a few moments of looking (staring) at him from the doorway. Free of clothes and free of scars, a perfect statue of a man.

Luocha, behind you, mistakes your shock for apprehension. He laughs by your ear.

“It’s only natural to be apprehensive. Come. Just watch for a bit.” His fingers squeeze your shoulders. You let him steer you over to an armchair with green cushions sat by the nightstand, up against the wall. Blade stares at you from the other side of the bed.

He doesn’t stop looking at you. Even when Luocha rests a knee on the bed, robe slipping off his arm, inch by inch of pale skin opened to the gaping maw of his gaze. His back—it’s as broad as you would expect from a man who lugs around a coffin on the daily. Not as big as Blade. There’s a sinuous grace to his figure, with narrow hips and—you don’t dare let your gaze lower. Because he’s looking at you looking at him over his shoulder with that coy little smile, just waiting for you to slip up.

And then he’s not looking at you, anymore. You’re entreated to a view of those long, luscious locks—sliding over the alabaster of his back as he approaches Blade on his knees. 

“Well, Blade. I know you’re excited, but you’ll have to settle for me for just a little longer,” he says. You nearly open your mouth to remind him that you haven’t agreed to anything, but the breath is robbed from you as he mounts Blade’s thighs. 

The alpha’s cock is long and thick enough to make you cringe as the tip nestles between Luocha’s cheeks. Twin groans fill the air. Blade’s voice is low and coarse, the vibrating thrum of an old engine. 

Luocha luxuriates in the stretch. His back arches, head bowing back as he takes the other man inch-by-inch. The dim light which reaches in through the closed blinds casts him in perfect clarity, and you can see his thighs begin to shake as he seats himself fully on Blade’s lap. His fingers fist in the sheets on either side of him, glimmering silk bunched between long pianist’s fingers. Cock taken to the hilt. 

“You’re putting on a show,” Blade accuses.

“And you’re watching.” Luocha replies, voice breathy and soft. He starts to say something else—but Blade’s hands fit over his hips, bulky fingers nestling into his v-lines. His voice devolves into a choked little sound as he’s lifted, until only the tip remains inside of him. The effortless gesture of strength makes you swallow and sink back in your seat. The air swells with unabated sweetness. And you—you react to it. 

Your fingers tense briefly, gripping the hard cushion armrests as you watch Blade fuck into him with voracity bordering unhinged. Luocha’s soft moans reverberate through the room, each one goes straight to your wetting cunt. Your thighs squirm and shift, pressed tight together. 

Blade grunts. His thrusts lose what little rhythm they possessed to begin with. You see every slide of his thick cock into Luocha’s loosened hole—slick-doused and swelling. You can see the muscles in Luocha’s back tense and stretch as he arches. The orgasm wracks him bone-deep. His toes curl. And Blade—Blade’s grip only tightens. Luocha’s thin waist is clutched entirely in his hands. His nails dig into the skin as he sheathes himself with a throaty snarl. The cum is so excessive that it drips and pools on the silken sheets, running down Luocha’s creamy thighs.

The room goes quiet. There’s only the steady sound of their mixed breathing, desperate huffs which level out over the next however long. You’re stuck there, still. The room smells of sex. A strange, hot feeling rolls down your spine. You feel like an exposed nerve. Like a trigger a hair away from being pulled.

Luocha, eventually, pulls himself off of Blade with another slick sound. Blade shuts his eyes and reaches out a shaky hand, wrapping it tight around Luocha’s shoulder. His nails bite into the pale skin, thick fingers right next to a ring of recent bitemarks.

“Mm,” Luocha pauses. He presses his lips to the scarred fingers which clutch him. At this distance—you can sense the sudden lurch of Destruction, spurred on by cloying mara and the natural, ingrained need to give chase. To empty the wellspring of Luocha’s Abundance like a man parched. You tense in your seat. Pushing your scrambled nerves aside, you reach for the Harmony—expel it and let it float through the chamber. “I'm not going anywhere, Blade. You know that.” Luocha says. Blade’s grip loosens. The wildfire in his eyes dims to a hearth. He settles.

Now free to be as obnoxious as he likes, Luocha turns fully to you.

“Ah,” his eyes twinkle as he licks his lips, looking at you now. “Did that do it for you?”

“N…No.” your voice feels thick in your throat. The most bold-faced lie you’ve ever told.

Luocha laughs a little. “It’s alright; you don’t have to say it. How about you come over here? Or do you want me to come over there?”

“I’m perfectly content to watch,” you insist. Your voice comes out steadier than you thought it would. But Luocha only smiles. He regards you with that same, infuriating knowingness that he always does. 

He slides off the mattress, smooth as fine grain sand and assured in his nakedness. You feel the tips of your ears get hot as he approaches, crosses the breadth of the room with swaying hips. 

He has you, and he knows it. Long fingers slide over your arms where they clutch the armrest. His thumbs rub over the back of your palms as he looms close. 

“You can stop this,” he murmurs, voice close to a whisper. He pries your fingers off the armrest, urges your hands to go limp. “Any time you want,” he says, but you don’t feel like it. You feel pinned by the voracity in Blade’s eyes as he stares at you from his perch on the mattress. 

Luocha slides to his knees like a swan takes to water. Slender fingers work the buttons of your trousers open, thumbs which slide beneath your waistband pull them down. You make a grab for the elastic, clutching it in your fist. The breath rushes in and out of your lungs, something in you suddenly awoke. The fear and an apprehension you should have felt from the start snap to life like a bolt of lightning.

But Luocha. Luocha gently pulls it again. More like an ask than a demand, and you let it go. You swallow as he slides them off. revealing the seat of your panties. Wet.

“Oh? All for us? That’s very flattering,” he says, like you’re a child who's earned the praise. You don't know what kind of face you make, but it must accurately convey your displeasure because his eyes crinkle, unmistakably fond. “Forgive me. I simply can’t resist teasing you… and I was under the impression that you hated me for the longest time.”

Your tongue feels too big for your mouth. Your throat feels full of something thick and unsweet. 

Your underwear comes next. It's a simple black pair. He thankfully spares you the commentary as he delicately slides it down your thighs, your legs, so meticulously careful in his handling of you.

“Well, you still might,” he continues, once you're bare from the waist down. “But at the very least, I know you feel some base level of attraction.”

His tongue parts the wet folds of your pussy. You tilt your head back, fingers curling to clutch the armrests, unwilling to watch him make a mess of you. The air feels liquid around you, murky with their scents—which have taken on, somehow, a new intensity. 

You don’t get to think about it, because Luocha brings your knee over his shoulder and puts his lips on your clit, tip of his tongue flirting with your entrance. He laps up your slick, drinks you in like a man starved. You jerk, a wheeze rattling out from between your ribs, but Luocha holds you fast. 

Pleasure surges in you like a current, a clever twist of his tongue making you jerk—and moan, like the harlot you know you are not. It sinks in, then and only then, as you clench his flaxen locks in your fist, that this is happening.

But you don’t get to digest it. Something hot snaps in the core of you, toes curling as you gush wet and hot into his eager mouth. 

His lips are shiny with your slick when he pulls away, lips curved into an unmistakably satisfied grin. Your chest rises and falls as you try and catch your breath. You feel—wrung out, hazy in the remnants of your climax. 

“I hope I lived up to your expectations.” 

You blink blearily at him. “I didn’t expect anything from you after all.”

There’s a small huff from behind him. A small smirk pulls at the corners of Blade’s lips. 

“How charmingly candid,” Luocha says, unbothered. You’re still too witless to muster a witty retort. Or any sort of retort at all, because as soon as you try, he heaves you into his arms with an ease you hadn’t expected. 

An undignified sound bleats from deep in your throat, words on the tip of your tongue mangled as you scramble for purchase. You dig your nails into the pale skin of his shoulders. The muscles there are broad and smooth. Exactly what you would expect from a man who carries a coffin around with him all day.

“Wait just a second—”

“You surely don’t think the chair will be a more comfortable place for this than the bed, do you?” he asks, hands big and warm on the backs of your thighs. 

“Don’t just go picking someone up without warning,” you seethe, and it still feels like a concession.

“Ah,” Luocha’s smiling again. “My apologies—I forgot how easily you scare. I’ll be sure to give you due warning, next time.”

“I don’t scare easily.” you mutter. He hums. Then he gently deposits you onto the mattress. Blade lounges easily, passion only betrayed by his smoldering, half-lidded gaze. The long line of his body is caked in muscle. The kind of body you’d expect from someone who carries around a sword that heavy—whose hands have ended a number of lives and worlds beyond your reckoning.His chin rests idly on the palm of his hand. Your gaze drifts over the smooth ridges of his abdomen, the plush of his chest.

Luocha settles up against the headboard. His cock is out, you realize belatedly. It stands hard and proud against his stomach. And his thighs glisten with release—both his and Blade’s. Your cunt throbs.

A hand reaches over and fists in Luocha’s hair, dragging him downwards for an open-mouthed kiss. He tongues your release from Luocha’s mouth. Lewd, wet sounds fill the balmy air, rumbling groans and soft little whines. Even now, in this deep between them, you feel like a voyeur. Yet, you watch them with lips parted and eyes wide.

You shudder.

Eventually, they separate.Wordlessly,  Blade sits up and disappears behind you. You try to crane your neck to follow where he goes, but Luocha’s nimble fingers yet again seize your jaw.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, voice delicate as it hovers in the air between you. “Blade’s not going anywhere, dear. Just focus on me for the time being, alright?”

But it’s so hard when you can feel the presence behind you, hovering like a dark cloud. You swallow, the noise impossibly loud in your own ears. Your cunt is wet and you’re sweating and your shirt is still on—but Luocha endeavors to fix that in the next moments. It’s difficult, in the haze of everything, to keep track of where his fingers go or when your button-up slides off your shoulders, to breathe when he unlatches the clasp of your bra like he’s done it a thousand times before. 

How many people has he done this with, before? A bitter taste twinges at the back of your mouth. Unprovoked and without reason. 

Blade’s big hands settle on your hips, thumbs rubbing the space above your waist.

“Handle her gently, Blade,” Luocha murmurs gently. His soft hands stroke down your bare arms. His verdant gaze drags down your torso, too slow to be anything but indecent.

Blade grunts. He squeezes, once, before he lifts you without warning. You splutter, hands snapping to perch on Luocha’s shoulders for some sense of balance as you’re moved with near pitiful ease. The show of strength sends a fresh wave of heat flush to your drooling cunt, and you try not to pant as you feel the tip of Luocha’s cock nestle against your folds. 

Your fingers curl and your eyes shut.

“Just like that,” Luocha says, simple and light. Another pair of hands settles on your thighs—and he’s breached you. You choke.

The stretch hurts. You didn’t expect anything else, but your head still falls back, eyes clenching shut as your walls spasm and squeeze tight. Behind you, Blade pants like a dog, huffing into the crook of your neck, inhaling you by the lungful. There’s a tremble in his hips that you can feel. 

It takes you a moment to realize that the whimpers filling the room are yours. 

“Re—lax,” he breathes, sounding almost pained. Like he has the right to. Like he isn’t fucking you open, pushing deep in as your greedy cunt squeezes and struggles to take him. Your knees press hard into the mattress, instinct prompting your aching thighs to buck upwards and flee the intrusion, but Blade holds you fast, grinding his teeth into your aching skin. 

“You’re doing so well for me, darling,” Luocha praises, cooing as your cunt clenches, “Oh,” he sighs, like he’s awed by it. His green eyes, unseeing, blown wide—your hands scramble for purchase on his shoulders as Blade lifts you again, up and up until only the head of his cock remains inside. “Gentle, Blade.” he bids, eyelids low—

And then Blade eases you down. It’s a slow drag. It hurts less, this time. Sparks of pleasure roll up your spine and send your cunt aflutter, your nails raking into his shoulders as they set the pace. He rolls his hips as Blade moves you—puppeteers you, his mouth tracking wet, open-mouthed kisses over your shoulders and up the sides of your neck. His teeth score into your yielding flesh.

“Stop—gnawing at me,” you snarl, reaching a hand back to swat him like an unruly animal. His lips find the meat of your palm, lips tenderly grazing the skin there as if in apology. He growls and inhales, again, and you marvel in fear and awe at just how stupid the chemicals in his brain have made him. Are all alphas like this, during their ruts?

Luocha says something else, but it’s all lost to the filth, to your moans and cries and other undignified noises as they further unravel you. Blade grips hard enough to bruise, his breath heavy against your skin, your ears. They work in tandem. Blade fucks you up and down on Luocha’s cock like a fleshlight, and Luocha rocks his hips into your fluttering, tight pussy in a quickly unraveling rhythm. 

And Blade—you feel his cock press hot up against your back just as dexterous fingers glide over your clit, Luocha’s touch making you thrash. Your sweat-slicked skin grinds up against Blade’s front, and he snarls. 

You come, orgasm a searing and unwieldy thing. You crash over the precipice, head tossed against Blade’s shoulder as your cunt spasms around Luocha’s cock. Milking him, shaking body trying to suck him in deep. Your entire body is one hot line of heat, pressed between them and oh fuck, Blade keeps fucking you onto Luocha’s cock. The blonde’s consistent and precise thrusts stuttering out of pace until he comes with an obscene groan. His fingers dig into your thighs as he fills you, rope after rope of his release hitting inside.

The room fades into a calm quiet. The air is dense with the smell of sex. Even through the exhaustion, the pheromones pry under your skin and keep you as hot as the bodies you’re wedged between. Blade lifts you from Luocha’s cock with pitiful ease, and the noise you let out at the separation is downright pathetic. Your mixed releases slide slick down your thighs and onto the sheets below, and your consciousness rouses just enough to feel a twinge of humiliation.

“Lovely little thing, you were even more incredible than I anticipated,” His fingers clumsily draw over your cheek, your neck, your side. Petting you, palms shaping around your breasts and stomach as you come down from the high. You all but collapse against Blade’s front, boneless. 

The moment he releases you, you topple onto the bedding next to Luocha. It’s hard to breathe. The air feels thick. You fight to regain your bearings amongst the haze, covered in sweat and cum and sore spots all over your neck and shoulders. 

Luocha coos. The pads of his fingers gently prod one such spot. 

“You didn’t have to be so rough,” Luocha hums at Blade. His touches delicately circle every point of pain, “This is your first impression in bed. You may be in rut, but you have enough self-control to not chew on your caretakers. You aren’t an animal, are you?”

“No,”

“No,” Luocha repeats, airy and fond as he pulls away. “You’re a blade. I don’t know if that’s more or less of an excuse.” He says, but he doesn’t sound frustrated. His scolding is light-handed and more amused than anything.

“Will you two quiet down?.” you grouse, finally coherent enough to complain again.

“Our apologies. We really should be putting our mouths to better use,” Luocha says, rubbing your back again. You throw a hand back to try and swat him away, but he pushes you aside with frustrating ease. “As much as I would like to afford you the proper time to rest—”

He doesn’t get a word in before you’re being manhandled onto your back.

Big hands pin your hips to the mattress. Blade’s palms are hot and clammy, sweat rubbing into your exposed skin. 

“I appreciate this,” he rumbles lowly. His candlewick irises threaten to swallow you whole as he ducks close, pressing your foreheads together. Blade’s keen gaze shifts from your eyes, rolls down your face and over your throat like a soft breeze. 

You swallow, your breath stolen from you in a gasp as he turns you over yet again. He maneuvers you how he likes, front pressed right against the sheets from head to toe. His hand settles in the crook of your left knee, opening you for the hot press of his head. The slow press of him is a sweet agony. He’s too big, he’s so fucking big—your cunt struggles to accommodate him as he bullies his way inside. Short, aborted thrusts which grate against your velvet walls. Your entire body twitches, overworked nerves crying out in muted protest, but the pleasure is open and heady, your entire body made pliant by the pheromones and—oh and it’s so much easier to go prone, like this. 

Blade’s eager mouth tooths a path along your shoulder, seeking the crook of your neck with single minded hunger.

It’s a slow, heavy push aided by previous climaxes, but he’s still much too big. You weren’t meant to take anything like this, you can’t help but think. 

Luocha gives a sympathetic coo. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

Is it? You try to answer, but all that comes out is a low, animal sound. Half pained but all pleasured. If Luocha filled you, Blade bursts you to the seams. Your fingers claw at the bedding as you struggle to take him, unable to stifle your voice. You’re not sure how long it takes for him to hilt. Minutes or hours. Time is lost to you, all of your focus centered on the tight space between your legs and how he swells in it. 

A wet, warbling sound wanders out of your weary throat as you feel his thighs press to the back of yours. At last complete. The grip he has around the crook of your knee tightens, his breath sputtering onto the back of your neck as he pulls out. 

The first plunge back in is no better than the initial fit. He pumps you full, over and over, pace breaking into something ravenous at the first sign of your acquiescence. You can’t think, you can hardly breathe as your velvet walls suck him in. Every thrust has his cockhead teasing your sweet spot. You try to arch your back, but you’re met by the solid wall of muscle that comprises him, flattening you to the bed, leaving you cored and flayed open for him to fuck, to fill, to stick his fingers and tongue inside. He scrapes his teeth over what feels like the marrow of you and makes your vision go hazy with tears. They roll down your cheeks, fat droplets soaking the bedding beneath you. 

Your orgasm isn’t a steady trickle but a sudden burst, white hot pleasure erupting behind your clenched eyelids. He fucks you through it. His knees dig into the mattress on either side of your body, pelvis slapping your ass with each disjointed thrust. Whatever rhythm he might have had sputters into nothingness. He mindlessly pursues his own climax, lips fitting over your shoulders. He kisses your spin. His hot tongue laps at your sweat and your bruises, almost tender. 

There’s an ask, there. A request for your forgiveness, or your acknowledgement. But you are too spent to speak. 

He cums inside of you, his release splattering your walls and dripping onto the sheets below. It’s so vulgar it almost makes you nauseous. But your toes curl and your voice pitches into a watery whine because he’s still fucking you. 

“Blade,” you find your voice, but do not recognize the ragged, ruined thing it has become. “Blade!” The pleasure has long tilted over the edge into pain. You claw at the sheets. You can’t tell if you’re trying to squirm away or arch closer, all that you know is the heat of his body and smell of sex and wetness of his cum running down your thighs. 

“Blade,” a different voice says. You completely forgot Luocha was even there. You can’t see where he is, “Remember what we talked about? Don’t knot her. She’ll break.”

“The poor thing,” he says, voice soaked in sympathy. A slender hand curls beneath your cheek, wedged between it and the pillow. Your lips press against the palm as your face is forced up. 

Luocha’s eyelids are low. His lips slightly parted, and his expression so impossibly benevolent as he observes you.

“Just a bit more,” he murmurs, thumb pressing against the swell of your bottom lip. You huff and squeal into his hand as Blade’s body tenses, readying itself for another orgasm. And as he spills within you a second time, Luocha steals the moan off your tongue with a deep, searching kiss.

—

Afternoon has shifted into late evening. The living room is cooler than the shaded bedroom. Somewhere after a third climax, you had been cleaned, a robe maneuvered onto your form by clinging, roughened hands. You’re not sure who did what. For the past hour, you think you’ve hovered dangerously close to unconsciousness, barely able to open your lips to sip on the glass of water someone held up for you. The rim was blissfully cold. You swallow the drink down with a voracity you’ve scarcely ever shown, let it soothe your sore throat and float some of the life back into you.

You’re endlessly grateful for this as you scarf down dinner. Some greasy takeout that fills your empty stomach, fried batter crunching nice between your teeth. 

Exhausted, and sore, and something related to satisfied, you finally rest your weary eyes. Your fingers find Blade’s silken strands. His face is nestled into your lap, nose pressed into the inseam of your thigh. He all but flopped atop of you after you finished eating, content to doze half-under a red blanket.

 Each breath taken is a warm puff you can feel through your robe. When did it go this far? How did it go this far? In a few hours, will he be just as voracious as he was when you walked in? You rummage through what remains of your cognizance in search of answers, but come up blank. All it amounts to is feeble frustration. Your fingers still comb through those long, luscious locks.

Footsteps pads in your direction from behind. You don’t bother to look up at Luocha until he nudges something into your hand. The stem of a wine glass is pressed into your shaking fingers.

When you look up at him, he only smiles, “For the nerves,” he says, and settles on the other sofa. “And the pain.”

You stare into the glass. The person reflected in the deep cherry looks sleepy and sated. A feeling of defeat churns in the depths of you. Your stomach sinks. You shut your eyes and let your head loll onto the back of the armchair. The plush upholstery cushions the back of your skull. The steady, building buzz of anxiety building behind your eyes amounts to a soft, yet still aching throb.

You lift the glass, and press your lips to the rim.

[munariplans]

YES PLEASE WRITE ABOUT THAT

the second i heard about all the merch nat had amassed i thought about what readers reaction would be if they would think its sweet or tease her or make fun of how she most definitely got ripped off for most of them but will now get them free (and the most important signature of all going on the marriage certificate duh)

But it also made me think what about readers 🤔

In my head reader has all of nat’s articles printed out some even framed

synopsis: just a short one-shot / drabble based on the cute request above!

read the original forty, love.

natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader

word count: 1.9k words

it had been a spontaneous decision; natasha inviting you back to her apartment. the both of you were more than slightly tipsy at that point, and you were in no condition to drive back home. luckily, or not, the bar had been right by her place, and within walking distance of her way home.

natasha thanked her lucky stars that she had liquid courage fuelling her bravery, as she asked, “do you just want to go back to my place?”

at your surprised glance, she laughed, and slapped you on the shoulder. “n-not anything weird, i promise. you will take the couch, and i will be very cosy in my bedroom.” 

you were holding her up by then, and the smirk on your face was so teasing, so smug for a moment, that natasha had to remind herself that she was drunk, and it was wrong to kiss a friend. a friend she very much had a deep history with, a friend that she wouldn’t want to stay just friends with.

“okay, lead the way, ms. romanoff,” you gestured out of the bar, and natasha and you leaned against each other the whole walk home, in the freezing temperatures of new york in winter.

it was only when she had let the both of you in through the threshold of her space, and cursed drunkenly as she tried removing her thick socks, that she noticed you weren’t by her side anymore. and you weren’t as drunk as she had been when you left the bar.

natasha heard a snicker, and when she turned to see you crouching over the television stand, her heartbeat began to raise in embarrassment and her palms cold. 

she was across the room in the next moment, screaming, “no, no! don’t look at that!”

but you were quicker, and you caught her right as she tried to block your view of the rows and rows of memorabilia that she had of you, carefully curated and collected over the years. her flailing arms trying desperately to release herself from your hold and swipe the memorabilia off of the stand and out of your memory. 

then, she heard your laughter. a hearty, amused rumble from the depths of your chest, ringing against her ears as you laughed, and laughed, at her embarrassment and the blatant obsession over your career that she had followed through the years. “oh, natasha, my natasha.”

if she even had half her mind right on trying not to make her cheeks any redder, she would have blushed at the proclamation of you calling her yours. but you were already kneeling back down to eye level with the memorabilia then, inspecting each one with amusement, and slight fondness, in your eyes. she began right after your qualification for the Australian Open, while you were still in college, but broken up. 

natasha decided it was pointless trying to stop you, and simply resigned and fell flat on the couch behind her, sighing until you had your fill.

“this was from years ago!” you picked out a ball that had been used for your final round in the qualifiers, and natasha threw her arm over her eyes. 

“i know.”

you picked out a cap this time, “i remembered signing only about ten of these to give out to fans during the festive season.”

“i know. i signed up for your team’s emailers, lucky draws, even bought your stupid posters and water bottles, anything, to get a chance of winning that thing.”

you let out another grin, and while she couldn’t see you, you let your eyes soften at the fact that she had done so much to support you, and you hadn’t realised. all these years. it made everything a little bit of a shame; the lost time and wasted efforts.

finally, you took a row of little figurines of your racket designs over the years, neatly arranged and kept in an acrylic casing. “nat, you could start a museum about me at this rate.”

“oh, shut up!” she shot up this time, trying to wrench it out of your grasp, but you pulled away, giggling at her cheeks reddening again. 

“seriously, how much have you spent on all this? must’ve cost you thousands, i’m a really expensive player,” you gave her a cheeky grin, and she took your cheeks in between her fingers, pinching as hard as she could. you yelped in pain as you jumped back, “ouch!”

“i hate you, i hate you so much.”

you rolled her over, grabbing a marker that you had spotted lying nearby, and immediately taking her arm to sign on it. she tried to bite you this time, but you managed to escape just in time. “your collection seems to say otherwise.”

that night, the proposition for you to sleep on the couch and her in her own bedroom was quickly forgotten; as the both of you ended up play fighting all the way until you landed on her bed. natasha pointed you out on it, but you were adamant, and pulling the covers over the both of  you, exhausted from the bar and natasha’s punches, you sighed happily. “too late, i’m here now. bed’s too warm.”

she grumbled that she hated you once more, as she came in closer and slung her arm over your midriff to pull you close, under the guise of still being cold. you decided not to point out that her limbs were practically tangled with yours in the morning, head on your chest as she slept as peacefully as a child who had just gotten their first tennis ball signed by you in a tournament.

it was only years later, when you tried to point it out on the day of registering your marriage, had natasha threatened you sleeping on the couch in your shared apartment again. this time, you knew she meant business; and the threat was most likely real, so you shut up quickly and followed her into the registry.

while you signed the certificate beside her, she caught you stifling a laugh again, and jabbed your side to ask you what it was about. 

“nothing.”

“tell. me,” she glared at you, “or i’m not signing that thing.”

your eyes twinkled with amusement, you looked so entertained by your own memory. “j-just…i was just thinking…how much the you in the past would have paid for this signature right here, on this certificate. you were my number 1 collector and fan, of course.”

the witness couldn’t control his own chuckles, seeing natasha pull you in by the ear and scolding you for teasing her until her whole body turned red with shame.

afterwards, however, when the two of you were alone, did she finally admit, “i still am your number 1 collector and fan. don’t you ever forget that, or try to replace me.”

– 

but natasha had her own arsenal of materials to make fun of you for your obsession with her too, of course. while you hadn’t had memorabilia or kept up with her over the years with no contact, that was a problem that was quickly alleviated once you learnt of natasha’s full-time job as a reporter and editor.

the next match natasha came to after your first grand slam win, your manager had asked her how her day at the office the previous night went, and while taken aback, he sheepishly admitted that you had asked him to, and to make sure she was comfortable at the seats. she had first chalked it up to a lucky coincidence that you knew she was on the news yesterday, reporting on a recent economic trend that hit the country. 

then, it was all debunked when you came to her later, and while distracted with fans that were coming up to you at your hotel, you had left your phone unattended at the bar with natasha. it wasn’t really her fault you received a ping from a message then, to reveal your lockscreen had been changed to one of a scheduling sheet. upon closer inspection, it had been natasha’s schedule sheet, of when she would be on air for the month, complete with the locations and timings that the firm had published for her. she presumed the ones in red highlights were when you had your matches, and true enough, they were, when she found your manager helping to record a segment of her news portions one day, and having to admit to her that you had asked him to so you could watch her after to destress. she could hardly control the butterflies that erupted in her belly at the confession. 

when the both of you had gotten closer and you would spend some dinners and mornings at her place, natasha would find that you had even pinned her as the top editor in the morning news you would read, always reading what she had published first before anyone else, as if her writing was your morning coffee. she chose not to say anything of it, silently gleaming at the fact that you paid so much attention to what she wrote.

you would often say, “i really liked that piece, the one on the impacts of artificial intelligence in sports,” or some other topic that she would have written, and point out your own thoughts on her piece. it was like having her own personal editor, with no judgments, no criticism. just love for what she had put out, and validation for her work. natasha was glad she had a supporter so ardent as you had yours.

and when the two of you had officially gotten together, natasha once received a text from your best friend during your match, while she was at work, and sighed at the opportunity that she had missed. however, when she did open up the text, it gave access to a video that said best friend had recorded, and there you were, in your dressing room before the match, crouched over the small television set there was, watching her cover the daily news like it had been an action movie. you paid attention to every word, eyes following her as she moved around like an entranced puppy, and when you had to get up and leave, natasha saw you leaning close and pressing a kiss from your fingers to the screen where she was, in replacement of the lips you couldn’t kiss in real life then, and she couldn’t control her burst of laughter. you had to know about this, at the very least.

you physically recoiled and clamped your eyes shut in embarrassment when you saw the video yourself, natasha still fighting hard to control the chuckles coming out of her, and you begging for her to delete whatever you had just seen. “nat, please, please!”

“no, this is hilarious!” she said between fits, “you are hilarious. is this your pre-match ritual, baby?”

“it is not! n-no, i can’t have anyone else see me like this, i can’t have the public see me like this,” you tried to wrestle her off for the phone, but only half-heartedly, because natasha was never in a million years going to let you delete it. 

“oh relax, it’s only going to leak if you really, really piss me off one day, or if this phone gets hacked,” she replied, eyes still dancing in amusement as you hid your face in your hands, shaking your head in shame. “it’s kind of sweet, i must admit.”

you pouted at her. “promise me it’s not going anywhere. promise me you won’t send it to anyone else.”

she interlaced her pinky with yours, “i promise.”

natasha had already sent the video to your manager, however, and allowed you to become the laughing stock of your team just days after that match occurred.

[neerons]

Some of Nokto Klein’s best quotes

“You smell so good, as usual. Good enough to eat.” (—Nokto’s thoughts about Emma)

“I wanted to take her back to my room right then and there and slowly, leisurely lavish her with pleasure until she lay exhausted in my bed (...)”  (—Nokto’s thoughts about Emma)

“Don't you think you ought to get some sort of reward for all that pain?” (—Nokto to Licht)

“A long, long time ago, you protected me. Don't you think it's my turn to protect you now?” (—Nokto to Licht)

“I already knew this about me, but... you're quite the schemer too, aren't you?”

"You really think it's fine to be brutally honest about everything and anything, don't you?"

“Deciphering cryptograms is outside my realm of expertise. That guy has absolutely terrible handwriting. It's so bad that he can't even read it himself once he's written it.” (—Nokto talking about Clavis to Emma)

“Oh it’s nothing. My only regret is that I didn’t sock the man.” (—Nokto talking about a random man to Emma)

"I love you. I want to hug you, and kiss you, and ruin you in bed."

"(...) I think your strong point is how short you are, Evie. (...) It's touching to think that you're still expecting a growth spurt, despite being older than me." (—Nokto to Yves)

"You've been avoiding Licht, right? He's really down in the dumps about it, you know. You're not trying to friendzone him, are you?" (—Nokto to Emma in Licht’s story event)

"Not only is she quite the bookworm, she also used to work at a bookstore. I'm willing to bet that you'll never even read half the titles that she has. You couldn't ever keep up with her." (—Nokto talking about Emma to a random man)

“You're so pretty, but you ruin it by pulling those grumpy faces all the time.”

"Well, I guess that explains why a woman as pretty as you is still single."

"You know, I think I like this whole waking up with you at my side thing."

"I happened to be talking to Licht, and he asked me about it, so I did a little investigating. Just because." (—Nokto talking about doing Licht a favor to Leon and Emma)

"And here I was, hoping for a chance to experience the famous Belle slap that so impressed Sariel."

"Hey, what would you do if both Licht and I tried to court you at the same time? Who would you choose?"

"I'll stay close to you and make sure you don't get involved with any bad guys. As bad guy number one, I know all the signs, after all."

"Emma is more precious to me than anything else in the world, and I love her from the bottom of my heart." (—Nokto's thoughts)

"I mean, you not only waited for me, you readied a place for me to come home to. You're the perfect woman for me."

"Given the situation, I'm at a loss, really. I can't decide whether I want Emma or the throne." (—Nokto to Sariel)

"(...) There you were, looking like you were having far more fun with my brothers than you've had with me in ages— When for me, nobody satisfies this loneliness but you."

"It's a fresh look for you. I like it. And you did it so beautifully, too. (...) King Highness? How did he end up doing that?" (—Nokto complimenting Emma's hairstyle done by Chevalier, in Chevalier's route)

"I’m not sure if you realize, but Licht is totally stone-faced whenever you’re not around." (—Nokto in Licht’s event story)

"As far as I'm concerned, we could just forget about going outside and jump into bed right now. But I know how much you want to go to the carnival. We've come all the way here, so why don't we have some fun?"

"Saying such sweet things, and in such a sexy outfit too... how could I not want you?"

"Sorry to interrupt, but you might want to close your eyes for a second. (…) Of course I saw it coming. That’s why I didn’t warn you. (…) See, this is the best part about coming to the beach. Here you are, dripping wet and sexier than ever, and there’s nothing to stop us from doing this. (…) You look absolutely ravishing." (—Nokto hiding an upcoming ocean wave from Emma)

"I have to make sure I treat you right. Otherwise, you might leave me for someone else."

"(…) You always look gorgeous, but tonight… you’re utterly irresistible. I want to take my time, slowly ravishing every inch of you."

[leviscxmkitten]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Sandbox Love [chapter 1] ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Summary:

"I'll come back for you." Levi had promised, with a pinky wrapped around her own, and then his lips pressed against hers in a hasty kiss. It wasn't their first but it was different, this time felt real.

His uncle pulled him away, and he was gone. The air was thick and heavy without him but his last words left her with a sliver of comfort, the feeling of his lips lingered like a second skin. The seemingly unfriendly little boy she had met and grown with, the first boy she loved - she watched him peddle away with misty eyes. That was her first heartbreak, the one she never saw coming.

He didn't keep his promise.

It's been 11 years since childhood best friends Levi and Azalea last saw each other. Now college students, what were the odds of them reuniting? Will old feelings bring them closer than before, or will it create a greater distance between them?

Cover art by Sumiensp on Twitter! 🤍

Childhood. The years of being young, wild, and carefree; years that are too few and far between. Seemingly endless summer days full of adventure, childish wonder, and friendships that are certain to last forever.

She still remembers the first day they met; their moms being friends from work, introduced them when he was seven and she was just six years old. He had big, unimpressed slate blue eyes and black hair, a carbon copy of his mother, Kuchel.

"What kind of name is Azalea? You're not a flower."

Those were the first words he had ever said to her, which had earned him an ear pull from his mom. It wasn't the best of first impressions, but they had become inseparable ever since. Countless days were spent exploring the woods, riding bikes, and playing pretend. He was a boy with perpetually scuffed knees and too much energy for his own good, and he was her best friend.

"Wait up Levi!" Azalea shouted, out of breath, trying to keep up with him as she ran through the woods.

"Try to keep up slow ass!" He'd shout back, seemingly unfazed by the difficult terrain. That's just how he was, always running, and god was he stupidly fast.

"You're so mean!" It was times like this when she wished the universe would do her a favor and make something — anything — slow him down. Somehow though, without fail, her feet would always betray her. "Levi! Ah!"

No matter the distance between them, it was as if Levi knew the moment Azalea was no longer keeping up, he'd always be right by her side again to help her. "Why are you so damn clumsy? Let me see."

He'd pull her up on her feet, clean off the dirt from her knees, and piggyback her to wherever she wanted. Sometimes it was the candy shop, other times it would be the ice cream shop; sweets were the only thing that made her feel better. Levi knew he babied her, and he knew that she knew he did too, but no matter what whenever she fell, he was there.

Then there were the times when they'd sneak out at night and spend hours staring up at the sky or playing on the jungle gym — sometimes both. Levi had insomnia; his restlessness and boredom must've finally got the better of him that first time he showed up outside Azalea's window. It scared her so bad she nearly wet the bed, but from that point on it became a weekly event. He'd come equipped with blankets and an extra jacket, knowing she always got cold no matter the time of year, Levi always said she had 'shit for brains' for never dressing warmer but really she just preferred the way he embraced her.

Six years went by like this, at twelve and thirteen years old when boys and girls became too different to be friends, they remained the same, always at each other's side. She could have never imagined a day where he would no longer be there, until it happened.

It was a day just like any other, or so it had seemed. Azalea had been working on a friendship bracelet for months, even though she knew Levi would likely never wear it; she just wanted to give him something in return for all he's done for her. She could hear yelling from outside her house; looking out, she saw Levi frantically pedaling up her driveway on his bike, he jumped off, showing little regard for it, and then there were the rapid knocks on the front door. A tall man — his uncle, was running and shouting not too far behind.

Levi had nearly knocked her to the ground with the force of his body colliding into hers. His hold was desperate, his words rushed. Kuchel was sick, and they were moving away to live with his uncle so they could have help while she got better. It was the first time she could recall seeing him so afraid, the look in his eyes was evident enough for Azalea to know; he really was leaving.

"Wait — I have this," Azalea said through her tears, as she placed the little white and blue woven bracelet in his hand. His having a small bead tied at the end with the letter A, while hers had the letter L. "This way we'll always be close to each other."

"I'll come back for you." Levi had promised, with a pinky wrapped around her own, and then his lips pressed against hers in a hasty kiss. It wasn't their first but it was different, this time felt real.

His uncle pulled him away, and he was gone. The air was thick and heavy without him but his last words left her with a sliver of comfort, the feeling of his lips lingered like a second skin. The seemingly unfriendly little boy she had met and grown with, the first boy she loved — she watched him peddle away with misty eyes. That was her first heartbreak, the one she never saw coming.

He didn't keep his promise.

11 years later

"Is that everything?" Furlan says thoughtfully, his arm thrown across Azalea's shoulder.

"I think so." She sighs, and rests her head on his shoulder, looking around her now bare apartment room. This is happening; moving several hours away from friends and family to attend a new university. If she were to be honest, she's really not ready, but this change is necessary. "We should probably hit the road if we're gonna get there before midnight."

"No!" Isabel shouts, her arms wrapping around Azalea and Furlan's bodies. "I won't let you leave, you're staying here."

"It's just ten months, Iz, and I'll be back for spring break."

"Boo, I can't believe you're actually leaving me here to deal with him by myself." She groans and Azalea laughs at the offended look on his face.

"Rude as fuck of you to say that because this place would be a disaster if it weren't for me," Furlan says with an obvious look of disgust as he crosses his arms. "I have half the mind to find new roommates for the next year."

"Come on guys, you can keep it together while I'm gone." She laughs. "Now let's go, we have a nine hour drive ahead of us."

Azalea has never been one for change, it terrified her. For the past eleven years this is all she's known, Isabel, Furlan, her home town; she would miss them, but these extra credits weren't an opportunity that could be passed up.

Furlan was supportive, but he's always had that older brother role despite them being the same age. Isabel on the other hand; not so much. She can't be blamed though, ever since their little quartet became a trio Azalea knew Iz would be the one to take news like this the hardest.

With everything packed up, and the sun casting it's first hour of orange light; they pile into Furlans truck and begin the drive to Paradis.

Even with three pit stops along the way, the hours seemed to fly by. It was easy to keep her mind distracted, thinking about it as just another road trip with her friends — but as the GPS shows their arrival in 30 minutes, crossing over the bridge that officially places Azalea on Paradis; panic and awe begins to set in.

Being a college district the streets are bare of cars; students walking, jogging, and carrying groceries along the sidewalk, multilevel bars and restaurants doubling as apartment buildings. Coming from a suburban area Paradis appears almost otherworldly, not suburban in the slightest, small town vibes with the main highlight being the university.

"This is it?" Furlan asks.

"Rose apartments." Azalea exhales, and closes out of maps on her phone. "We're here."

Inside smells like a mixture of cleaning supplies, musty carpets, and remnants of various food spices the occupants use; the usual for any apartment building, though the complex itself looks well maintained. Not to mention there's an elevator, already a great improvement from the apartments at home, especially with her room being on the third floor.

"31...33...35C. This is me."

"Shit —" A girl curses from another door down, Azalea notices her struggling to grab her fallen keys, her arms full with grocery bags. "Fuck."

"Hey, let me help you." She jogs over, grabbing the keys off the floor, and offers a hand to take a grocery bag.

"You're a lifesaver, thank you." The girl sighs in relief, passing off a heavy bag, and unlocks her door with her now free hand. "Are you my new neighbor?"

"Yeah, we just drove down," Azalea motions toward her friends, who are awkwardly standing by the door and waving. "My friends, Furlan and Isabel are helping me move in, so I apologize if we're a little noisy tonight."

"Oh no worries, are you starting at the university on Monday?" She smiles brightly, her big blue eyes a stark contrast to the black bangs framing around her face.

"Yeah, I'm transferring from my hometown college —"

"She's leaving us behind!" Isabel shouts, cutting Azalea off, and making her neighbor giggle.

"Well, if you'd like, we can walk to campus and get coffee Monday morning, see if we have any classes or free periods together." She suggests and holds out her hand. "I'm Ilyana by the way."

"Azalea," She smiles, shaking her hand. "And yeah, I would love that."

"Cool, I'll come by again to get your number later. Thanks again for the help, neighbor!" Ilyana takes back her grocery bag, and pushes open her door with her foot, struggling to wave as she slips into her apartment.

"She seems cool." Isabel says once Azalea reaches the door, smiling to herself as she steps into her new apartment.

"Right? It is nice to already have made a friend here."

Furlan abruptly throws his arm over Azalea's shoulder, leaning almost all his weight against her and nearly knocking her over. "You know Iz, you can take my truck, I think I'm gonna transfer here too. Do you think she's single?"

"Like hell you are!" Isabel shrieks, her arms flailing around desperately in an attempt to hit him while he dodges.

"Alright, alright! You two are gonna get me evicted before I even get a single item in here, come on, we need to start bringing stuff up then we can order food."

It's nearly ten by the time everything is brought up into the apartment, and when they decide to order from the closest pizza joint. Then after two am when the essentials have all been unboxed and put together.

Furlan and Isabel are fast asleep bundled up on the loveseat, a rare sighting considering the two are almost always bickering. Azalea takes a mental image of her friends, tonight had felt like any other night all together in their apartment back home, but the knowledge that this would be their last night together for a while made falling asleep almost impossible.

~

Morning comes too soon; the sun an unwelcome reminder that the last shred of her home life would be driving miles away today, and it would officially be the last full day of summer.

"Do we really have to go?" Isabel wails, arms wrapped tightly around Azaleas waist. "We can just pack everything back up and go back home!"

"There will be nothing left to take home if you break her!" Furlan shouts while attempting to pull her off.

"Boy I sure am going to miss this," Azalea jokes, but it really starts to sink in, as chaotic as this all is; they're leaving and she's staying here. She hugs them both a little tighter. "Remember this is just see you later."

"Yeah, see you later." Isabel nods, quickly wiping at her eyes as she separates.

"We're just a call or text away if you need anything."

"Thanks dad." Azalea jokes, and they laugh, squeezing each other one last time. "See you later."

"See you later."

They leave, and Azalea takes in her new surroundings. Despite the multitude of boxes, bubble wrap littering the floor, and the lack of personal touch, it felt like home already. All the nerves and anxiety seemingly left out the door along with her friends. This is necessary, she concluded, maybe she'd finally find what was missing here.

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles Leclerc

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 10/? Word count: 2602 Co writer: @mistrose23

Summary: This was Matilde Jørgensen, the newly appointed team principal of Scuderia Ferrari, about to face one of the most nerve-wracking challenges of her life. She tried to save the team from more disappointing results and put everything on the line to make them world champion again. There will be a big challenge to lead a historic team as 'newbie' and keeping her work and personal opinions apart from each other. The big question everybody will be asking: is she capable to do so?

Chapter 8. Call It What You Want

Matilde sat in the airport, waiting for her flight to leave. She was seated in the business class lounge, enjoying a cup of coffee. Well, she couldn't really enjoy it. The events of yesterday played through her head; from the perfect race and victory, to the moment in the restaurant. Even though it hurt, she still had a fun night with Max and her former colleagues.

"Hey," a voice said, he sounded surprised.

Matilde looked up and a smile came to her face. "Hey," she smiled at Kevin, who took a seat next to her. "Going home?"

The Danish driver nodded. "You too?"

She nodded. "It's my mum's birthday tomorrow."

"Ah, that's sweet. Congrats on your win, by the way! Your first victory as team principal and the first victory for Ferrari this year!"

A weak smile came on her face. "Thanks."

"Hangover?" The off reaction didn't go unnoticed by Kevin.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Something like that."

He smirked. "You will remember this one forever."

"And if I will," she muttered. The good and the bad, she thought. "How was your race? P11, P10?"

"P10, quite average. It was an alright weekend. The track is fun, but the entire show around it... Not a big fan, to be honest."

"Yeah, Miami is something else. I wonder what Las Vegas will be like," she mentioned.

"We are Danes, we keep it low profile."

They both laughed.

"Where are you seated?" Kevin asked.

Matilde looked at her ticket. "2A, you?"

"8H," he replied. "I don't know if it is me, but it's quite funny that in America, we get paper boarding passes, and in Europe, or flying from Europe, we have them online. Or it's me, my subconscious preference."

"No, I have it too. But I don't know. Also, when going through security here, we have to remove our shoes. I have never done that in Europe. Bizarre how many things are different between continents." She took a deep breath. "It makes travelling interesting and fun."

Matilde and Kevin made their way to the gate when it was almost time to board. They had to wait for just a few minutes, because the crew still had to arrive after a short delay on their side. Matilde's eyes fell on the crew of SAS, who now arrived. A smile came on her face, and tears flowed in her eyes. One of the stewardesses happily smiled as well and excused herself from the crew, just like one of the pilots. Matilde stepped towards the inflight manager of the flight.

"Mati," the stewardess said and embraced her daughter tightly.

Matilde closed her eyes, not saying anything back. She was so relieved and happy to see her mother after five months. More tears welled up, but she was fighting against them.

Freja pulled back, looking at her daughter. Matilde opened her eyes and took a deep breath. "Sweetheart..." Freja found herself in a difficult situation as well, trying to hold back the emotions as well. She stroked a piece of hair behind Matilde's ear and placed her hand on Matilde's cheek. "I'm so happy to see you. How are you?"

"I'm fine," Matilde whispered, not wanting to bother her mother before the flight and her job with her issues. "I'm so happy to see you, too," she said and smiled. "I didn't know you were on this flight."

"Coincidence," her mother smiled. "We will talk once we are in the air, okay?" She let go of Matilde and looked at the man who sat on the bench; she assumed it was a friend of Matilde's. "Are you flying together?"

Matilde looked behind her, at Kevin. "Yes, but we're not seated next to each other. He's a friend of Lars."

"Since when does Lars know Kevin Magnussen?"

"Lene is friends with his wife," Matilde smirked, thinking how ironic it was.

Freja looked impressed and introduced herself to the Danish driver. While they had a quick chat, Matilde greeted the pilot with a hug, happy to see him as well. The stewardess and pilot excused themselves and boarded the plane.

"Parents?" Kevin asked curiously.

Matilde nodded. "Mother and stepfather," she exclaimed. "She says it is a coincidence that she's working on this flight, but I know she planned it like this."

"Parents..." He smiled. "It's adorable." He looked at her. "This might be a personal question, and if you don't want to answer it, it's fine. But do you still see your father?" Kevin looked waitingful at her. "Lars doesn't really talk about this family, as you probably know by now."

A comforting smile came on her face. "Yeah, Lars is really private. But we all still see our dad. My parents divorced twenty-four years ago, and they're still friends. Mum met Emil through work, and they try to work on the same flights since they got together."

"Did they get together..?"

"Oh, no. A few years after the divorce."

"And your dad?" Kevin's eyes grew round. "Sorry, I'm asking way too much."

She shook her head. "It's okay, it's not like I have issues talking about it. My dad has a girlfriend, Astrid. They met two years ago. It's complicated, but it is what it is," she said and shrugged. "How are Louise and Laura, by the way? And how is the pregnancy going so far? You're having another girl, right? "

"They are both doing fine, and yes, we're having another girl." A smile came to his face as he continued to talk about his family.

* * *

Since it was a day flight, Matilde didn't manage to get any sleep. She planned to do some work on the plane, but ended up watching some movies. Her mind kept drifting off to last night. She got up from her seat and walked through the aisle, passing Kevin, who sat on the other side of the cabin. Their eyes met, he smiled, she nodded. Once she got in the galley, she waited for the bathroom.

"Mati," Matilde's mother said when entering the galley. "How is everything?" She closed the curtain.

"Fine, a whole new experience in business class," Matilde replied and playfully smiled.

"You've never flown business class at SAS?"

"No, economy is all I could pay for, and Red Bull could book for me. Now Ferrari books business class for me. Well, not this flight. I happened to get an upgrade?" She raised her eyebrows. "On this flight only? Not the first flight?"

Her mother smiled. "That is weird, lucky you."

"Mum, you didn't have to do this."

"You are the team principal of Ferrari and flying economy? A woman like you should fly business class. And it is a pleasure to have my daughter in business class on my flight," her mother proudly said and nudged Matilde's shoulder.

Whenever Matilde or her brothers were on the same flight as their mother - which wasn't often, they flew economy. And they grew up appreciating the small things, they didn't bother to fly business. Matilde wanted to ask Ferrari to book economy tickets, but she didn't dare to ask because she understood that by booking business class, she could properly rest or work during a flight. But flying business class wasn't in her nature.

"Still... This is a flight for a private event."

"Still. At least you're not flying private." Freja handed over a bottle of water. "How was yesterday?"

"Aren't you supposed to work?"

"We are mid-flight, all the passengers are served, and now we get on a break."

"Oh, yeah, that is right." Matilde took a sip of her water. "Well, go get your break. It's important."

Her mother proudly smiled. "You sound like a real boss, a caring boss."

A fragile smile came on Matilde's face. "I will tell you all about this weekend once we are home."

"Of course. Unless you want to say something now?"

"No, no, it can wait. You should take your break."

"Okay, sweetheart. By the way, are you driving home with Emil and me? After the plane lands, we have a quick debrief, and then we are free to go. It's okay if you want to go home. Are you staying at mine or your dad's?"

"It's your birthday tomorrow, so I was hoping to crash at yours?"

"Yes! Of course. You're always welcome."

"And if I can drive home with you? I think that's fun," Matilde smiled. "We're going to the same destination, after all."

Freja nodded. "I will share the plans after my break, yes? And you go to the bathroom, it's free now."

Matilde laughed. "See you soon." She stepped into the toilet and did her thing. When she stepped back into the galley, her gaze fell on Kevin. Business class was almost empty, and so was the seat next to Kevin. Without thinking too much about it, she sat down next to him; only the aisle was in between them. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

He sat up and smiled. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

She licked her lips and looked around her. "Well, uh, I don't know if you're the right person to ask this, but yeah... From my experience, we did things differently... but when you're going out after a race, celebrating a...perfect result... do you ask Steiner to join? Or other Head of Departments?"

A frown came on his forehead, and he crossed his arms. "We don't have those results often, but... Yes. Why?"

Matilde slowly nodded. "Exactly," she mumbled. She looked down and saw that her hands trembled slightly.

"Why?" Kevin asked again.

"I'm telling you this in confidence, okay?" Matilde said and looked at him.

"No one will know about it; whatever you have to say, I promise."

"No one in F1," she repeated. "I'm struggling with this thought, but...uhm, the team went out to celebrate the win and P2," she told him. Kevin nodded. "Without me." Tears filled her eyes. "And I don't know if it was their intention, like, not to invite me. As in, they didn't want to celebrate it with me. Or if this is how it goes at Ferrari."

A concerned look came on his face. "Oh, wow. Matilde..." He didn't know what to say. "Why is that your thought?"

"Things are not going smoothly with the team and me; there's still a lot of friction. And I'm still an outsider, which I get; I'm new, young, a woman, still learning to speak Italian. But this weekend... It felt like we bonded, like we finally became a team. And I was, am, still proud of this weekend with all the performances, but then I got a message from Leclerc, asking where I was at their celebration. Coincidentally, we were in the same restaurant. I was with Gemma, and we ended up at Red Bull's dinner. And then I saw the team celebrating the great results."

"But didn't they go out with the team and... I don't know, perhaps the crew only?" Kevin asked, trying to understand it and trying to soften the blow for her.

Matilde shrugged and wiped away a tear that was rolling over her cheek. "No." She looked in front of her. "Everyone was there, except me. But why would Leclerc text me, asking where I was? If it was a crew-only dinner, then why would he text me?"

He showed a weak smile. "I don't know. I'm trying to find some reasonable excuses, to make you feel less shit. You know, I know my crew often goes out as well without inviting the board." He scanned her face. "But the message from Leclerc doesn't make sense. But why were you with Gemma at the Red Bull dinner?"

"I kinda forgot," she said, more tears rolling over her cheeks. "I had so many emotions, and everyone was texting and calling me and asking me things. I asked a mechanic, and he said that they would stay in, because they all had an early flight home the next morning," she rattled. "And then Gemma showed up and asked if I wanted to join her. Next thing I know, I was doing shots with Max." She ran a hand through her hair. "I was thinking of throwing lunch or something after the days off, but I'm not too sure about it now."

Kevin nodded and took a deep breath. "This is not nothing..." He didn't want to say too much; what if he said something wrong? Or gave her an idea? "Did they see you?"

"I sent them champagne."

Kevin straightened his face. "You did what?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, but what the fuck was going on? It didn't make sense. And I wanted to let them know I was there without actually standing next to their table," she blurted. When she thought about it now, it was a bold move, a dick move, but it was genius. "And I told the waiter to say that I gave them my compliments."

"Matilde..." He looked impressed and disapproved at the same time. "This is so..."

"Not me? Yes, I know. But I already had alcohol in my body, and I just... I don't know, I was so confused and disappointed. And when the waiter pointed at me... You should have been there. They looked like they had seen a ghost."

Kevin couldn't help it, but laugh. "It is such a dick move, but such a great move. You can't do this. This is not professional."

"It's not professional to invite everyone, but your team principal. And I get it; it's awkward, but I'm not awkward. Half of the team is older than me and more experienced than me. And it's not like I don't know how to function in a team." She shrugged.

"But how did things go at Red Bull?"

"We would go out for dinner first, often with Christian and the board. The team would go to a club, and Christian and the board often would go back to the hotel; sometimes, they would join. Or we would go out without Christian and the board, team only thing, but they would know. Or they declined the invitation. We were very open," she said and dried her eyes when her sight became blurry. "It was asked... And everybody had a choice. I know things work differently at Ferrari, but this was the last thing that I expected." Matilde shook her head. "We still have to bond and stuff, apparently, but I honestly thought we bonded well over this weekend, and I was just so proud to lead this team." Warm tears left her eyes again. "They didn't invite me for a reason."

"Why?"

"I don't know." She sniffled. "But it's good to know that this isn't normal. Or that this is the way Ferrari operates. The text of Leclerc still doesn't make sense."

"Well, I know that this isn't normal."

She got up. "God, I'm sorry you had to see me having a breakdown," Matilde embarrassedly laughed and dried her eyes. "It's the lack of sleep, hangover and yeah... But thanks for listening. I won't hold you up longer from whatever you wanted to do."

"Matilde, this is a serious issue. I'm not saying you have to go to the board and say something about it, but you have to talk about it. If you say nothing, they will think this is normal, and it's definitely not normal," Kevin mentioned. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it softly, just to let her know that he was there for her. "Let me know how it goes." He gently let go of her hand.

She nodded. "I will, thank you. Really," she said and walked away, back to her own seat.

Kevin was perplexed and processing the words he just heard. Should he do something about it? Or did her team have other intentions? Either way, he knew he had to text her brother when they landed, sharing his concern. 

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Pairing: Alastor x fem! reader

Background: reader is Lilith and Lucifers oldest, and resembles Lilith more. Lucifer has a hard time bonding with her because of this, and Alastor decides to step in.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"DAD'S COMING?!"

(Y/N) Morningstar, firstborn daughter of Lilith and Lucifer, was currently having a breakdown over the fact that her father was on his way to the hotel.

She'd have no issue leaving, of course, but Charlie tricked her dear old sister into staying by saying she needed help with the hotel. . .and told her their dad was coming when he was two minutes away.

It's not like she didn't miss him, but things became different once their mother disappeared. Lucifer threw himself into his ideas, and (Y/N) tried maintaining their relationship but he couldn't even stand the look of her.

"I'm sorry! But I thought maybe you guys could talk while he's here?" Charlie suggested with a gulp, twiddling her fingers.

"I'm done trying with dad. If he wants to talk, he can come to me," (Y/N) crossed her arms, firm on her stance.

"I never thought I'd meet someone with worse daddy issues, but here you are, cher," Alastor, with his famous grin, looked down at the Princess of Hell. She huffed, not in the mood for his side comments.

"Alastor, please-"

"He's here!"

"-please fucking hide me!" She ran behind him, despite the mass amount of blonde hair making it obvious.

He chuckled.

Honestly, since meeting the eldest Morningstar, Alastor deemed himself her Protector. Not that the girl wasn't capable or needed him persay, but he cared for her. Being on the aroace spectrum, he wasn't plagued by a selfish desire to fuck her, but it was a sweet concern that slowly turned into a need to be near her.

A need to make her his.

"Hopefully he doesn't-"

"Pumpkin?"

"Fuck," (Y/N) silently cursed under her breath before Alastor stepped aside.

"Hey dad," Lucifer felt a pang in his sinister heart at her tone. She sounded uncomfortable and wouldn't even look at him, but he also remembered that he couldn't look at her at times.

It reminded him of happier times.

Times he didn't want to be reminded of anymore.

"So how've you been? Heard you've got a fancy job now. Probably making loads of money, huh?" He chuckled nervously.

"Dad, it's my company. I made it."

And he couldn't even remember that she did that?

Any dad would remember that his child created her own business.

"Ouch."

"And it's got a fucking duck on the logo. God, dad," She rose her voice, "you can't even remember that?"

"I've been busy, pumpkin-"

"Too busy to call? Too busy to even fucking call?!"

Charlie flinched at the harshness in her voice. She's always been a firecracker but she's never seen her so angry.

"I'm not fighting with you, (Y/N)," Lucifer stepped towards her, "why do you insist on fighting? Especially when I'm here for Charlie."

"Oh, you're here for Charlie?" Her horns started to come up through her skin, rolling back like a rams.

Just like her mom.

"I'm not making this about me. I just wish you'd make the effort instead of it having to be me," She missed who he was.

And during this, Alastor could see the pain on her face. She was furious, and rightfully so.

But he let her fight her own battles.

"I'm sorry that I look like mom. Is that what you want me to say?!"

"Yes!"

He didn't mean it. Of fucking course he didn't mean it, but it slipped out.

"Dad! That's enough!" Charlie ran to her, seeing tears well up in her sisters eyes. "How could you say that?"

"Pumpkin, I-"

"Don't," She sniffled, holding Charlie close, "don't come near me."

But he didn't listen.

He hated being the fact that his little girl was crying because of him.

"I think you've come far enough," Alastor spoke, getting infront of Charlie and (Y/N). He is excellent at saving face, so his pure unadulterated rage was hidden beneath his smile.

She hiccuped behind him, sobbing into Charlie's shoulder.

"Don't make me move you," Lucifer glared.

"And don't make me fucking kill you for hurting what's mine."

His voice turned more static-like than before, his eyes a burning red and his horns outstretched. He was a fucking shield for his Princess, and not even the King of Hell could get through. Lucifer recognized this and humbly backed away, retreating with his tail between his legs.

_ _ ☆ _ _

(Y/N) spent the next hour crying in her room. Over the years, she had started to hate herself for looking like her mom, and Lucifers' confirmation only reaffirmed it.

"Need anything else?" Charlie asked her. Although her sister wasn't searching for redemption, she had her own personal room in the hotel.

"Can you get Alasto-?"

A knock sounded at the door.

"Was he there the whole time?" She sniffled, and a muffled "maybe" came through the door.

Her bed was surrounded by napkins that she quickly placed on her bedside as Charlie allowed Alastor inside.

Alone.

The two of them.

Might as well just throw them condoms and say get to it, is what (Y/N) was thinking. She's known about her crush on The Radio Demon for a few months now, having a fantasy dream here and there, but wasn't much of an active person herself.

"Thank you. I know he tried to fix it, but I couldn't stand to look at him," Her puffy eyes made Alastors eye twitch, still a small spout of anger for her father.

"Of course, my dear," He sat himself next to her on the bed.

"Because your father, although the King of Hell, is a fucking coward", is what he wanted to say but kept those words for himself.

"Did you mean it? That I'm yours?" She asked, her hand inching closer to his.

"I never say anything I don't mean, cher," He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and made the she-demon gasp.

"I thought you hated touch."

He chuckled, "Oh, I do, but not if it's you. Your skin is warm, and it brings me comfort. You bring me comfort."

"You'd have me, even if I want to be glued to your side? Even having petty fights with my dad?"

"Darling, I'd wear your skin if you asked."

"Oh, how romantic," She blushed before both his hands came up to her face, bringing her into a needy kiss. With her, he needed to feel her.

Someday, even all of her.

"And I'd eat demons with you," She whispered against his lips.

"Oh my heart may burst, my dear."

Taglist: @lorkai @droopingdatura @tr1coo @randomuser-89 @abbiedail @evelin1o1 @sseleniaa

[tender-rosiey]

“KEEP THE PRIEST! WEDDING NO.2 STARTS!”

— gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto & toji when you catch the bouquet at a wedding (f!reader)

a/n: if you don't have a cousin then now you do and thanks for being patient with me everyone! <3

GOJO SATORU:

 a family member of yours was finally getting married—something you never thought would happen since she was always complaining about all her boyfriends, but hey at least someone finally did it.

anyway, naturally, you took your dear boyfriend as your date.

the wedding was going smoothly, drinks were exchanged, food was distributed, and cakes were eaten—much to your lover’s delight.

another thing that kept happening is people trying to introduce their daughters to satoru.

his instant response was to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you close to him, kissing your cheek and chirping a “sorry, but I am happily taken!”

now it was time for the part that a lot of people wait for: the bouquet throw.

your cousin was already crazy, so she has been waiting for it so she can throw the bouquet with all her might. on the other hand ,you and the other ladies were lined up and patiently waited.

one swing, two swings, one faint throw, and finally the bouquet was thrown into the air, heading towards its next owner.

a chorus of ‘its mine! mine!’ filled the room, but relentless, you maneuvered your way into finally catching the bouquet in your hands.

you’ve won the battle.

but wait. it seems like there is a contestant that won’t back down.

“let go of that bouquet, young lady!”

you look behind you and gasps, it is—“satoru?!”

“yes, satoru!” your boyfriend huffs, making his way towards you.

he firmly takes a stance in front of you, contrasting his intimidating position with his infamous pout, “it’s not fair for you to take the bouquet!”

you sway your hip to the side sassily, “does it make a difference? we’re getting married either way!”

your boyfriend shakes his head, “no, babe!” he places his hands on his chest, pushing his theatrics till the top, “I need to be the star!”

he crumbles to the floor and you merely stare at him in silence.

you see your cousin approach you and your boyfriend, “first of all, I am the star, and second, if you don’t stop fighting, I am taking the bouquet back.”

your boyfriend gasps clinging to your legs, “babe, your cousin is super mean!”

you pat his head with a sigh and he happily presses a kiss to your thigh. what a taxing man to be with.

“sweets, I wanna pee.”

taxing child.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your boyfriend was—surprisingly—invited to a friend’s wedding, which he hated as he was planning on taking you to a stargazing sight because you’ve been talking about it ever since you saw it multiple times on tiktok.

so, here you are with your boyfriend put into a suit by force.

you’re pretty sure that he is going to rip it any moment, but you would rather he does that when you’re both alone: you don’t necessarily mind a show.

anyway, you are sat with your dear lover who hasn’t stopped frowning since you’ve entered the darn hall.

the only good social thing he has done so far is greeting the groom and the bride. other than that, his hand never left yours and he stuck by you.

it’s cute, though, even if he argues that he is anything but.

you hear them announce that they’re finally throwing the bouquet so you give sukuna a quick peck then run to reserve your space.

now, you get very competitive in certain things, and this is certainly one of them. you will be going home with that bouquet.

and true to your goal, the moment the bouquet is at a height you can reach, you jump at it, holding on for dear life.

your feet reach the ground once again, and you raise your hand in victory, “I did it!”

you don’t see sukuna rolling his eyes fondly and with a proud grin that screams ‘that’s my girl’.

after a bit of applause, you quickly turn to your boyfriend and walk towards his table, radiating with confidence.

you place the bouquet on the table then you lean on your elbows, “I caught the bouquet,” you wink, “what do you think?”

“of course, you would get it,” he hums, “you’re mine, and I don’t settle for less than the best.”

you roll your eyes and lean towards him, swirling the drink that you stole from him, “it’s quite the commitment that we’re getting into,” you then look and lock eyes with him, “think you can handle that?”

“there’s nothing I can’t handle, loser.”

you giggle before cooing, “aww, you love me so much,” he gently shoves you, before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you back towards him.

“I tolerate you.”

“so love!”

“no.”

NANAMI KENTO:

jingling bells, clicking heels, steaming food, and loving couples including you and your dear boyfriend fill today’s wedding hall.

a mutual friend of yours and nanami finally tied the knot with their lover, and you were happily invited.

it was a never ending party of laughter and happy tears—that you efficiently hid by burying your face in your boyfriend’s chest.

things calmed down a bit, leaving you to fangirl about how cute your friend is to nanami.

“but kento, she looked so cute! she is so pretty! he better not hurt her!”

nanami keeps munching on his bread, “I think she is capable of handling that herself.”

you cross your arms with a huff, “what do you mean?”

“she is carrying a shotgun.”

“oh, you right,” you acknowledge, before running towards the dance floor when you see your friend about to throw the bouquet, “f/n, you better not throw that until I tell you!”

“if you don’t get then you just have a major skill issue!”

you gasp, taking a battle stance in the middle of the of the dance floor. you hear your friend giggle, before she finally throws the bouquet into the air.

from then, it’s a cat fight between you and the rest of the people.

however, you come out as victorious then excitedly running towards nanami, “kento! kento! did you see me?”

“mhm, you looked lovely as always,” he chuckles, giving you his full attention.

you giggle, taking a seat beside him. you start talking about your fight(?) to get the bouquet while nanami stealthily takes a plate of your favourite snacks from the buffet and slides it to you.

you gasp, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “thank you, love!”

he hums, eyeing the bouquet, “you know,” then he says, fidgeting with his watch a little, “I can get you a better bouquet if you want—with a side of a ring, of course.”

you were about to finally dig in, but your brain quickly short circuits at his comment, “oh.”

slowly, you turn to him, feeling your face get warmer by the second.

he laughs lightly, hand coming to rest on yours, “I am not joking,” he pulls your hand up for a small peck, “I am just waiting for the right time so please be patient with me.”

GETO SUGURU:

the moment the vows were exchanged, music was blasted to the roof, and everyone was partying to the max.

your cousin, the bride, is dancing to the beat with vigor and excitement you’ve never seen before.

you would like to join her, but geto just won’t let you since he knows that you will somehow end up drunk off your mind and dancing on one of the tables.

so you’re sat with him right now, sulking and glaring at him.

“babe, don’t be so sad now, please? I am only doing this so you don’t accidentally hurt yourself.”

you huff and turn your back on him, “I am a full-functioning adult; thank you very much!”

his hand slowly inches towards yours, “the prettiest full-functioning adult,” he smiles, pulling his chair closer to you. “and the smartest too, did you know that?”

you almost give into his advances—his charming smile is far too lethal—but you’ve developed a bit of immunity to his actions.

so instead, you face him with a teasing smile, “I would love if you tell me more—after I successfully steal the bouquet.”

“steal?”

you roll your eyes, “acquire.”

he laughs lightly, and you take it as your cue to run towards the group of women huddled behind your cousin.

you stand proudly, “c/n, throw your bouquet!”

“no!”

“what?!”

“just kidding!”

and so the bouquet flies and ‘accidentally’ lands in your hands—it’s no accident; you’ve been training your entire life for this moment.

people whoop and applaud, and you bow to audience, before scurrying to your darling boyfriend.

you wave the bouquet in your hand, and he nods knowingly, “guess you’re never get rid of me,” you muse, hugging the bouquet to your chest, “what a pity, right?”

he looks at you confused then sighs with a smile, “I never planned to, but okay.”

you beam at him and throw your arms around him, and he laughs, hugging you closer.

you trace shapes on his back and murmur, “you’re way too cute for your own good.”

“I need to charm you one way or another, you know,” he replies, motioning for the waiter to get you two more drinks.

he stays silent for a moment, “you can go get hammered—“

“not!”

“okay, not hammered with your cousin.”

“yay!” you scream joyously and run away.

guess who ended up drunk and dancing on a table.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

toji and a wedding?

it’s a combination most would not expect, but it isn’t his wedding anyway, so he can’t complain about it being too much commitment right now.

the only thing he can complain about is being put into this ‘suffocating’ suit—a sight you love.

“do we really have to stay till the end?”

you turn towards him, mortified, “this is literally your best friend’s wedding.”

he shrugs, “so?”

with a shake of your head, you drag him further down the hall to your assigned seats. at least, holding your hand is enough to pacify him.

the wedding goes as you would expect, aside from toji almost falling asleep.

you are now just standing beside the clearly expensive and delicious buffet—your true love.

toji is happily indulging in the food laid out in front of him, and you are about to do the same, but you notice that the bouquet throw is about to happen.

so you dash out of your seat just in time to catch that rogue bouquet. you raise your hand, announcing yourself as the now rightful owner of this bouquet.

that’s why you excitedly search for toji to show him your new prize.

you rush towards the table that you left your boyfriend at, “toji, I got it!—toji?”

a look left, a look right, your eyes widen. did the darn guy leave the moment you caught the bouquet? no way his fear of commitment is this intense.

you take note of the groom—toji’s bestie—shaking his head.

feeling embarrassed, you frown and yell for him, “toji fushiguro!”

suddenly, you feel a presence behind your back. you feel the person lean towards your ear a bit, and they whisper a small, “hey.”

you gasp, spinning to smack him square on the shoulder, “I hate you!”

he teases, almost like your hit was never there in the first place, “now now, that isn’t something you say to your future husband,” he grins and you scrunch your face in disgust.

you turn on your heel to walk away from him, “kill yourself.”

“what a foul mouth,” he whistles, following you until you finally give up and are given the chance to punch him in the stomach to make for the scare he gave you.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin @babyqueen17 @chaosguy352 @murakami-kotone @sukun4ryomen @yumieis

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[lovelettersfromluna]

One of Your Girls

Summary: When Ellie’s usual filming partner tells her she’s gotten into a relationship, she ends up needing to find a new one, who better than her sweet little roommate? Only problem is, her content is quite…special.

an: I’m keeping this short and sweet bc I’m honestly desperate for this. Anyways, enjoy camgirl!Ellie, hehe. Mwah love you (also HAPPY HALLOWEEN)

Warnings: smut!! MDNI!! 18+, camgirl!Ellie, Ellie and reader are roommates in this one, biker!Ellie bc I felt like it (more of it in future chapters), mentions of strap usage, mentions of the word ‘cock’, ROSE TOY, fingering, dirty talk, praise, mentions of sex work, filming of said intercourse, let me know if I missed anything! (Not proofreading)

Part 2 is out now! Read here!!, and part 3 here!!

Ellie groaned softly, her tattooed hand gripping the girls plush hips, her own bottom lip tugged between her teeth as she watched the girls ass bounce with every thrust. The way she whined and moaned as Ellie fucked into her mercilessly, perfectly manicured hands gripping her bedsheets as she tried her best to hang on, babbling incoherent words, ones that Ellie could only make out to be asking her to go faster.

Ellie’s hand came around to the girls ass, giving it a firm squeeze before she spanked her hard, receiving a loud whine from the girl. “You fuckin’ like that…don’t you…such a fucking slut” she groaned out, voice low and sensual, dripping with the sound of want and dominance.

Ellie smirked softly as the girl nodded eagerly, immediately agreeing with Ellie, agreeing with the vile things she said. It was so easy, getting them to say and do exactly what she wanted, especially when she had them like this, desperate to cum.

The sound of her laptop ringing made her smirk, her eyes drifting over to the camera that was pointed towards them. “Bet you all wish that was you, huh? Tell them how good it feels baby…go on” she hummed out, head cocking to the side as she watched the girl moan and whine beneath her.

As soon as she did, multiple dings started coming in through Ellie’s laptop, making her smirk softly. Her eyes never left the girl beneath her, her strap bumping against her clit with every thrust, making her groan loudly, knowing she was just as close as the moaning girl beneath her was.

And soon, they were both a moaning mess. Ellie’s strong hands gripped her hips as she hunched over her back, pressing soft kisses against her sweaty skin, massaging her ass, knowing she must have been sore from all the spanking she’d done.

By the time she straightened out her back to look at the chat, she chuckled softly, pushing her brown fringe from her sweaty face as she slowly pulled out of the girl, causing her to whine.

“I don’t think so…that’s more than enough for the both of us” she rasped out, a soft hiss leaving her lips as she looked down at the strap that was soiled with the girls arousal.

She reached over, only her lips visible to the camera as she let her hand hover over the button that allowed her to stop recording. “Thanks for joining, guys…always appreciate putting on a show for you” she hummed out, flashing her audience a toothy grin. She turned around, looking at the girl that was nearly passed out completely on her bed. She let out a soft chuckle, tugging off the strap that hung on her lower half, tossing it to the side before she crawled over to the girl, both of her arms caging the girl on either side of her body, knuckles pressing into her mattress as she dipped her head down, lips ghosting over her ear.

“You with me, baby? Stream ended already” she hummed out softly to the girl, which earned a soft noise from her in return. Ellie chuckled, giving her ass a gentle spank before she pushed herself off of the bed, a low groan leaving her lips as she stretched out her sore limbs. She watched was the girl on her bed slowly came to, lifting herself up slowly, She smirked to herself, chest always swelling in pride whenever she caught sight of the aftermath of one of her girls, how she’d wrecked them completely.

She was still wearing nothing but her sports bra and a pair of cotton underwear, so she moved to her closet and grabbed a t shirt and sweats, turning to the girl on the bed who was now sitting up with a fucked out expression that Ellie loved so much. She chuckled, taking slow strides towards her. Her strong hand came up to rub her head softly, a soft hum leaving her chest.

“Went too hard on you?” She questioned softly, slightly worried that she’d pushed the girl too far. She felt a sense of relief when she shook her head, a soft yawn leaving her lips which cause Ellie to smile. “Get outta here…I’ll call you an Uber” she promised, to which the girl sleepily nodded and got up from Ellie’s bed, leading Ellie to her bedroom door so that she could leave.

You on the other hand? You were cuddled up on the couch, your favorite blanket wrapped around your body , a twizzler perched between your lips, the bag cuddled into your chest as you stared intently at the glimmering vampire on your tv.

And that was the difference between you and your roommate, because while she was fucking her pretty filming partner into the mattress, making enough from her streams and videos to pay the rent entirely for both of you, you were binging another shitty movie franchise for the thousandth time.

You figured they’d be making their way out of Ellie’s bedroom once you heard the knocking of Ellie’s headboard against the wall stop, and the breathy little whines of her partner, Julia, came to a stop as well. And like clockwork, a very happy looking Julia was coming out of Ellie’s room, Ellie following close behind.

You giggled softly, Julia walking over to the couch and plopping down next to you, resting her head on your shoulder. You cradled her head against you, eyes craning up at Ellie as you gave her a fake disapproving look.

“Jesus, Ellie….the hell did you do to her?” You try sternly, which makes Ellie roll her eyes. Shes leaned up against the wall, arms crossed as she eyes the both of you. “Please…she’s the one that told me I wasn’t going hard enough” she argued. You giggled softly, looking down and giving Julia a gentle nudge.

“You’ll be good to go home, baby? You know you can stay here if you need to” you reassure her. Ellie cuts her off before she can respond, “no she can’t” she quickly interrupts, to which you roll your eyes. Julia giggles lazily, pushing her head off of your shoulder as she hummed softly. “Ellie knows if I stay she won’t be getting any sleep” Julia teased gently, giving Ellie a soft smirk before she got up off the couch, giving a big stretch paired with another yawn before she nodded her head towards the door while looking at Ellie.

“Walk me out?” She hummed softly. Ellie nodded, pushing herself off of her spot against the wall and walking Julia to the door. From your spot on the couch, you can hear soft mumbling between the two, paired with the soft sounds of a kiss before Julia leaves.

To anyone else, the scene would look like a girl sending her girlfriend off after a night of hanging out. A happy couple who were definitely in love with one another. It made it very clear why people loved seeing them together on Ellie’s streams.

They looked so good together.

You tried not to stare, your eyes quickly averting back to the tv, trying to catch up with whatever was happening in the movie you were watching. Ellie made her way over to you, plopping down onto the couch next to you with a loud sigh. Her hand came up to you, tugging the twizzler out of your mouth and promptly putting it in her own, which makes you huff softly.

“Back off. Go find a post sex snack somewhere else” you tease her, yet still grabbing the bag and putting it between the both of you. Ellie chuckled softly, her eyes never leaving the tv. She groaned softly, her hand shoving into the bag and grabbing a handful of red ropes before she nodded her head to the tv.

“How can you watch this shit, man? They don’t even fuck properly” she complained. You hum softly, nodding slowly as if you were processing her words. “I would agree….but does the world really need to see that? Because personally I’m fine without it” you hummed out, giving a proper response as if the conversation really even needed it.

Ellie shrugged, moving down to grab your legs and put them on her lap, her tattooed hand massaging your calves slowly as she continued watching the movie and munching on your candy. “Hm…who knows” she hummed out before you two fell into a comfortable silence, and continued watching the movie.

And that’s how things usually went with you and your roommate. She’d film something, you’d be out in the living room watching a movie, and she’d come out when she was finished and join you. The night never went without cuddling from Ellie’s end, and yours of course. Ellie always ran cold, constantly seeking out your warmth whenever you were close. The night would usually end with one of you falling asleep on the other, and staying there until the wee hours of the morning, that is until you woke up first, tugging Ellie off the couch and sending her to her room, which almost always resulted in her whining for you to come with her.

That’s what life was like with your cam girl roommate.

You let out a soft sigh as you walked into your apartment, a soft frown on your lips as you began tugging away at the layers on your body. It was the one thing you hated about the colder months, having to leave the cozy record store you worked at, out into the cold air, eager to get to your even cozier home.

You looked down at the little entrance rug on your floor, noticing that Ellie’s sneakers were tossed next to them, and her helmet was on the entry table, meaning she was home. It was Friday night, so it meant she’d be filming today.

Or at least, she was supposed to.

If you recalled from the many annoyed little rants from your roommates end, Julia had been flaking on her for the past few weeks. Apparently, it started out with her missing one day of filming, telling Ellie she had something she couldn’t miss. Ellie mentioned she was vague about that ‘something’. Then, she started flaking multiple days in a row, skipping out on the schedule Ellie had organized for the both of them to film together, something they’d agreed on very early on in their friendship.

That was three weeks ago.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t really remember the last time you’d send Julia, and to be quite honest, you missed her. Sure, she was the girl your roommate fucked regularly, but it was a job, at least that’s how Ellie put it, and you truthfully saw Julia as a friend, always wishing she’d stick around after she and Ellie were done to hang out. Ellie weirdly never allowed that to happen though. You never questioned it.

The lack of banging and moaning was a clear indication that Julia’s three week streak had turned into four, and you most likely wouldn’t be seeing her tonight.

Regardless, you knew Ellie was home, but you opted to leave her alone until she made her way to you. It was frustrating for her, and you could sympathize with that, of course.

After you walked out of the bathroom, freshly showered and in your favorite pjs (the ones you always saved for the weekends, Friday nights to be exact), you moved to the fridge in your little kitchen. You grabbed a random can of alcohol, needing to blow off a bit of steam before also grabbing a bag of chips, tucking it between your arm and moving to the living room.

And now, for the weekend festivities to commence.

Ellie most likely heard all of the shuffling that came with you getting home, because as soon as you’ve settled onto the couch, your favorite blanket draped over your bare legs, she’s emerging from her bedroom.

You can tell she’s annoyed, because there’s a faint frown on her lips, and her eyebrows are slightly furrowed. You decide not to say anything, since you know it’ll most likely receive nothing but a short hum from her end.

It’s sort of like the night is in reverse, because she’s plopping down next to you, grabbing your snacks, shoving her hand into the bag quietly as she waits for you to put something on, but there’s no Julia, only a frustrated Ellie sitting next to you.

You eye her for a moment before you begin flipping through the various movies on your screen. “Julia cancelled again, hm?” You question softly, yet you know the answer to that question already.

Ellie scoffs softly. “Yep…and you’ll never guess why” she mumbles out, words hanging in the air as you continue scrolling through, waiting for the big reveal.

“She’s got a fucking girlfriend now” she groans out.

You weren’t entirely sure what the reason behind Julia’s disappearance was going to be. You’d thought about it a bit, muling over the mystery and trying to figure out why she’d suddenly dropped the gig out of nowhere. You thought it might’ve been schedule conflicts, or maybe she’d gotten a new job, or maybe she just wasn’t for the work anymore, which was entirely understandable.

But a girlfriend? That was not on your list at all.

Your eyes went a bit wide for a moment before they flickered towards Ellie, watching as she let out a soft huff before shoving a handful of Cheetos into her mouth.

What would you even say? Comfort her? Say nothing? It was quite the unique situation. It wasn’t as if Julia and Ellie were dating, they were…coworkers, partners that worked on something together because they had good chemistry and it was good money. They were barely even friends, so how on earth were you supposed to comfort your annoyed friend with such a strange situation?

Your lack of a response leaves a wider gap for Ellie to continue speaking, so she does.

“And it’s not even about it the fuckin content anymore, you know? I can do solo, that’s fine….she just didn’t even have the decency to tell me that’s annoying” she complained, to which you nodded slowly as you gave her your full attention.

She lets out a long sigh before her words fell into a mumble. “I’m fuckin….im pent up, man….fucking yourself only gets you so far” she admitted, making you freeze for a moment.

Because sure, you and Ellie had been living together for a while now, there really weren’t any boundaries you hadn’t crossed. You were very familiar with Ellie’s side job, and you were fully supportive of that. You knew that it was beneficial to her in more ways than money, and of course it was! Sex was healthy. You knew that after a week filled with the chaos of the world and her main 9 to 5, she needed to blow off some steam from time to time, which is where her second job came in handy.

But fuck…hearing her talk that way flipped you upside down for a moment.

You cleared your throat, trying to find the right words for your friend before you gave her a gentle nod. “I know what you mean…is there anyone else you can call? At least just for a quick round” you tried, knowing Ellie definitely had no problems with finding a pretty girl to consume her time if needed.

She merely sighed, nose scrunching a bit at your suggestion before she shook her head. “One night stands freak me out…” she explained, a soft puff of air blowing past her lips as she slumped further into the couch, staring up at the ceiling as her dark hoodie engulfed her body, swallowing her up.

You two sat there in silence, a soft pout on your lips as you racked your brain for another solution. You felt bad, because while you usually took from your own personal experiences to help your friends out when they were in a pinch, you just couldn’t remember the last time you were in a situation even close to Ellie’s.

And it’s like she’s reading your mind, because suddenly she speaks up again.

“Why don’t you film with me tonight?” She blurts out, clearly not giving her words any second thought before they were passing through her lips.

You can’t control the laugh that escapes your lips, quickly snatching your chips from Ellie’s lap as you continue scrolling through the movies on the tv, not even giving Ellie’s words a second thought. “That’s cute. What about that girl you went on a date with? Jasmine? Man you really have a thing with the letter J, huh” you teased, grabbing your blanket and tugging it further over your body once you settled on a movie.

Ellie groaned softly, grabbing the remote control and turning off the tv entirely as she sat forward a bit, body facing yours as she tried getting your attention.

“I’m serious. Who better than you? We know each other, you aren’t busy tonight, not to mention you’re hot as fuck.” She breathed out shamelessly

You try to ignore the way your chest burns at her words, warmth radiating all throughout your body. Of course you thought the same of Ellie, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t gawk at your roommate from time to time, but that’s the thing, she was your roommate. You never truly let your mind wander there, knowing that what you and Ellie had, wasn’t that.

You figured that if you don’t say anything, she’ll just drop it.

She doesn’t.

She groans softly, tugging your blanket off of your body, which earns a wide eyed look from you and a soft gasp, appalled that Ellie would ever interrupt your post work cozy time, even if she was basically asking to fuck you in front of thousands of people….digitally.

Once you’re looking at her, you can see just how serious she is. Her green eyes are wide and almost excited looking, pink bottom lip tugged between her perfect teeth, eyeing you closely, eager for your response. You can tell she wasn’t even nervous if she’d crossed any boundaries, she just wanted to see if her genius idea was as smart as she thought it was.

You let out a soft whine, throwing your head bag into the couch as if to break her intense gaze. “Come on Ellie, seriously? We both know I’m not what your audience wants to see….they want a Julia! You can’t just go from her to me and expect the same response” you explain, hating that you even had to explain this to Ellie.

Ellie looks like a kicked puppy when she registers her words, genuine shock on her face for a moment before she’s immediately arguing with you. “Are you fucking kidding me? Have you seen yourself?? How could anyone not want to see you absolutely wrecked on camera? Jesus, I’d pay big money for that shit” she huffed out, clearly angry with the way you were speaking about yourself.

You have the urge to argue against her again, complain that she’s only saying that stuff to you because she’s your friend and she knows it’ll get what she wants, which you know is a lie. Ellie could have anyone to be her filming partner, and you knew that. There was no reason at all for her to lie.

Before you can though, she’s grabbing your wrists and tugging you up so that you’re sitting up and facing her. Her pink tongue darts out to lick her lips for a moment before she sighs softly.

“I’m not gonna force you into anything…if you want me to stop, I’ll drop it and we can never talk about this again…” she assures you, those big green eyes filled with the truth before she continued speaking again.

“But I’m just asking…as a friend…we can try filming a video, and if you don’t like it, I’ll scrap it completely and look for someone else” she explained, words slow as she wanted you to hear everything, hear all of it and truly understand how honest she was being.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I knew it wouldn’t work” she hummed out again, and her soft words finally make you move your gaze from the floor to her eyes, it makes your breath hitch for a moment because Jesus, why does your roommate have to be so goddamn intense?

You think about it for a moment, weighing out all the pros and the cons, trying to truly contemplate what could actually go wrong if you did agree to do it. Ellie was fully anonymous online, as much as she could be, and you knew she’d protect you entirely as well.

Plus…you always sort of wanted to know what it’d be like to experience what one of Ellie’s girls experienced behind her bedroom door.

You inhaled deeply, knowing that there was a huge chance that everything could change once you did this, yet something in you told you that it’d all be alright regardless.

You gave her a slow nod before cracking a half smile. “You better make this worth my while, Williams” you teased, which makes her chuckle softly, a teasing smirk playing on her lips as she nodded slowly.

“You’ve seen the aftermath of my work, you won’t be disappointed, baby”

You don’t usually go to Ellie’s bedroom.

Mainly because it’s where she films, and not that anything is wrong with that, you’d just hate to overstep. If you two ever wanted to hang out somewhere other than the living room, your room was the place to go.

Sitting on Ellie’s bed, you realize how professional about this she really is. Her bedroom is dimly lit, already setting the mood for you both. Her bed is made, her laptop is open, and she’s setting up her camera on her tripod next to you, angling it so that it’s a bit more to the side instead of aimed directly in front of you.

Once she’s finished, she nods to herself, happy with the placement. She leaves for a moment, making you frown in confusion, but she returns with a few bottles of water, setting them on her desk before she turns towards you, her hands clasped together as she tried to think of anything else the two of you might have needed.

The image of you quietly sitting on her bed catches her attention, and she quickly turns the camera away from you, moving to sit next to you. “Don’t worry..it isn’t on yet” she promises you, a soft smile on her lips. She can see the way you’re quietly taking it all in, understanding fully.

“It’s always scary doing it for the first time” she reassured you, to which to rolled your eyes, giving her a playful nudge. “Please, you’re acting like you’re taking my virginity” you teased her. Your words make her chuckle softly, a sense of relief washing over her when she sees how normal this is, how you two haven’t changed yet despite the circumstances.

She eyes you for a moment, a bit of silence washing over you before she rests a gentle hand on your thigh. “Remember…we can stop at any time” she promises, giving you a slow nod. You eye her, feeling your heart swell for a moment before you nod as well, giving her a soft smile. “I trust you, Ellie” you hum softly.

Ellie gives you a smile in return before she sighs softly, eyes scanning over your face for a moment before they settle on your lips. She tugs her own between her teeth before she looks up at you hesitantly. “Gonna…warm you up a bit before we start, okay?” She explained gently, to which you give her a soft nod, eyes never leaving her green ones.

You’ve always thought about what it would feel like to kiss Ellie.

It wasn’t a lingering thought. It came from time to time, whenever you got too drunk, or you were in that delicious state between sleep and wake and didn’t have much control over where your thoughts drifted off too, you’d think about your roommate, and how soft her lips looked. You’d think about how good she probably made all those girls feel while they were filming.

But everything that you might have imagined in that past couldn’t come close to this.

She tastes of what you can only describe to be, Ellie. Her tongue is soft and warm, and so fucking wet. She explores your mouth slowly, mouth moving against yours in a way that clearly indicates how fucking good of a kisser she is. Your mind is already fuzzy, and you’re embarrassed by the fact that she’s barely kissed you and you can already feel your arousal pooling in your panties.

Ellie groans into your mouth, one of her hands coming down to give your waist a squeeze before she pushes you back a bit to lay on her bed. You gasp softly when you feel her knee push between your legs, slowly moving against your core. She takes the opportunity to push her tongue further into your mouth, dominating the kiss as her large hands roam your body, feeling and squeezing, caressing you in a way you can’t remember the last time was done.

It’s a simple make out session, but you feel like you’ll lose your mind if you don’t have her soon. Her toned thighs are moving against the thin fabric of your pajama shorts, her soft lips working against yours, deepening the kiss with each passing moment. It went from soft, to needy so quickly, it made your head spin.

You aren’t sure how long she had you there, her thigh grinding into your core, hands massaging your hips, her mouth swallowing all of the needy whines and huffs you gave her. Your hands were in her hair, tugging and keeping her close, it mad her smirk against your lips. Soon, you’re whining even more because she’s breaking the kiss and staring down at you. She’s trying to catch her breath just like you are, your own chest rising and falling a bit quickly, glossy eyes staring up at her with need.

God, Ellie loves that fucking look.

“Wanna keep going?” She asks, and you haven’t been so sure of anything in your entire life. You give her an eager nod, to which she chuckles softly, leaning down and pressing another soft kiss to your lips before she pushes herself off of your body, and goes over to set up the camera.

You blink a few times, almost taken back by everything that was happening. You sit up on the bed, watching as Ellie concentrates on setting up the camera. Its like she could do anything right now, and you’ll be on her knees.

Because why the fuck does she look so hot turning on a camera.

You chalk it up to just being so horny you feel like you’ll pass out.

Ellie nods to herself before she looks over at you, nodding her head towards where she’s standing. “Come stand over here with me” she directs you, and you’re obediently walking over to stand next to Ellie, eyes looking down at the screen on the expensive camera.

You can see where it’s pointed at towards the bed, standing a little ways from the foot of the bed, giving it a much more authentic look than if it were to be aimed right at you and Ellie. You feel a gentle hand on your hip, and Ellie brings your hand up to a little button on the edge of the camera, her lips dipping down to rest against your ear.

“I’m gonna go sit down, and when you’re ready, I need you to press this button…alright baby?” She hums softly against you, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

You can’t even speak, giving the girl a gentle nod, to which she chuckles softly before she pats your waist gently. “Good girl…” she mumbles against you before she leaves your side.

On the other side of the camera, you watch as Ellie goes to sit on the bed, tugging her hoodie off to leave her only in her t shirt and sweats. Her legs are spread. You watch as she reaches next to her bed, digging around in her bedside table before she pulls out a small little black bag. She rests either one of her arms on her thighs, looking at you and giving you a silent nod.

You give her one back before you press the button on the camera. You hear a soft beep come from it, and from Ellie’s side, there’s a little red light, showing her that the camera was recording.

On the little screen on the camera, you can see that Ellie has angled it so that it just cuts off her face, only a sliver of her chin and lips visible, along with the rest of her body, ensuring that no one will see her face or yours while you both do this.

She gives you a small smile before she pats her lap softly. “C’mere baby…don’t be shy” she hummed out, voice low and dripping with so much lust, it made you squeeze your thighs together.

You gave her a soft nod before you slowly made your way over to her, standing between her spread legs and resting both of your hands around her, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck softly.

Ellie stared up at you, her own pupils blown out as she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. Her hands slide up from your hips, slowly creeping up your shirt. It makes you shudder softly, a quiet whine leaving your lips as you practically begged for her to touch you more. This makes her chuckle softly.

“Needy already? I’ve barely even touched you…” she teases you gentle, which causes you to pout. She hums, slowly pushing your shirt up a bit before she tugs your pajama shorts down your body. Once they’re off, she moves onto slowly pushing your shirt up your body, kissing your exposed skin once it’s there for her, before she tosses it somewhere else in her room.

And suddenly, you’re almost completely naked in front of her.

It makes you frown softly, feeling so bare in front of her. Your arms quickly move up to your chest, covering yourself from. She quickly gives your hips a gentle squeeze, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your cleavage.

“Hey…don’t hide from me baby…it’s all right” she reassures you. You can tell it’s Ellie, and not some act she was putting on for the camera.

It was a silent gesture that you could trust her.

You let out a soft sigh of relief before you drop your hands, allowing them to take place back on Ellie’s shoulders. She lets out a hiss when you do, because she can finally get a good look at you this way.

“Fuck me…such a pretty fuckin girl…” she groans softly to herself, barely loud enough for the camera to pick up. She quickly leans in, attaching her lips to one of your nipples and giving it a gentle suck, which earns a soft moan from your end.

Her mouth feels almost as good as it felt when she was kissing you, so warm, her tongue swirling around your sensitive nipple before letting it go with a pop and moving over to the other, giving it the same amount of attention.

Her green eyes are on yours the entire time as she suckles your nipples, your head spinning as you watch her below you worshiping both soft mounds. You’re sure you can die like this, with Ellie’s mouth littering your entire body with kisses, her tongue swirling around various parts of you, making your knees wobble beneath you.

She groans softly, letting your nipple go from her mouth before she gives your waist a gentle squeeze.

“Wanna play with you a little bit, pretty girl….will you let me?” She asks genuinely, the girl still trying to make sure you’re okay with all of this, and that you’ll let her make you feel good.

You nod eagerly, because it’s come to a shock to you that you haven’t started begging yet.

“Do whatever you want to me…” you mumble softly, almost in a daze as you stare down at the girl, your own pupils blown out with lust, lips already forming a needy little pout. It makes Ellie chuckle, and she nods before she gently turns you around, and puts you to sit between her legs on the bed.

The image of her thighs spread outside of yours makes you squeeze your legs together. She hums softly once she notices, her strong hands gripping your hips softly before she slowly begins tugging your panties off. She pulls you back a bit into her chest, forcing you to lift your hips gently before she’s tugging your panties off completely and tossing them to the side.

“Let’s take a look then, hm?” She hums out softly against your ears before she pulls your thighs apart.

She groans softly, because while her head is resting on your shoulder, looking down at the mess between her legs, you’re so wet you can audibly hear your sopping wet lips part when your legs are spread. It makes you whine, and you try to close your legs out of habit, but Ellie is quickly pushing them even further apart.

“Fuck…don’t hide this from me, baby…..need to take care of you…” she groans against your ear, her lips ghosting against your skin, warm breath wafting onto your face as one of her hands slowly creeps down between your legs.

When she’s there, she uses her fingers to spread your lips apart, giving the camera a good view at your glossy pussy, the dim lighting of her bedroom making it even more apparent. She hisses softly to herself as her fingers go to your swollen clit, slowly rubbing small circles into the little bundle of nerves.

This alone has you wiggling in her grasp, your hands gripping her thighs as she slowly works on your needy pussy. She chuckles softly, pressing a soft kiss against your neck as she brings her other hand to your boob, massaging the skin before pinching your nipple.

“I’m barely doing anything yet, sweetheart…gotta contain yourself” she sighs against your skin before she presses another kiss to your cheek. “M’just warming you up…” she mumbles softly before her hand leaves your sopping cunt, which earns a needy whine from you.

It makes her chuckle, and she reaches beside you to grab the little black bag that she had gotten out before filming. “You’ll like this much more than just my fingers, princess…” she promises, her lips pressing soft kisses to your neck and cheek. Your eyes are trained intently on the bag, eager to see what it is she’ll take out. When she finally does, you feel like you’ll scream.

It’s the fucking rose toy.

You’d been meaning to buy one yourself, going on and on to Ellie about how everyone had been raving about it on the Internet, but it had been sold out virtually everywhere and you just couldn’t seem to get your hands on one.

But as usual, Ellie always had tricks up her sleeve.

You’re so glad the camera doesn’t catch your face, because your eyes are so wide, you probably look like a Halloween mask. Ellie chuckles softly as she feels you stiffen in her lap, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. “Wanted to try this one for a while, didn’t you baby?” She hums against you, and it makes you moan softly before giving her a nod, squeezing your legs together.

Because since when the hell has Ellie paid that much attention to you?

You try to make a mental note to bring it up later, but you aren’t sure how well your memory will stand right now.

Ellie hums softly as she presses one of the buttons on it, holding it down until the light on the bottom begins to blink, meaning it’s on. She then goes onto pressing the button below it, letting it go onto the lowest setting. The buzzing alone makes you whine, eager to have the toy used on you. Ellie smirks softly, bringing the toy down to your nipple, letting it suck on you gently.

You let your head fall back on Ellie’s shoulder, back arching, pushing your boob further into the toy. You almost feel angry that you haven’t bought the toy sooner, because god, it’s the closest fucking thing to Ellie’s mouth, and it makes you moan like an animal in heat underneath her.

Ellie’s eyes never left yours, watching your every move. She loved how responsive you were, how everything she did earned little whines and huffs from your end. It makes her buck her hips up into your back, needy for her own bit of friction against her aching cunt.

“That’s it, baby….such a good girl…” she praises you, making you moan softly.

She slowly moves the toy from either one of your nipples, watching as you wiggle beneath her. This goes on for a a bit, before she begins moving the toy down between your legs.

She hums, craning her neck down a bit to get a better view of your sopping cunt. She uses one hand to spread your lips, your puffy clit almost screaming for the toy, before she sets the mouth of the toy on it, letting it suck on your clit.

It’s truly like nothing you’ve ever felt, the suction is so strong, and it makes you grip Ellie’s thigh harder, your back arching, ass pushing against her core, making her moan softly into your ear.

Ellie groans, removing the toy for a moment to give you a break before she puts it back on, teasing you even further. She hums softly before her other hand comes down, pushing two fingers into your needy, wet little hole, which makes her groan.

“So fucking tight…we’re gonna have to do some practice for my cock, aren’t we baby…” she moaned softly in your ear, which makes you nod eagerly.

And you can’t really take it anymore, because her fingers feel so good fucking in and out of you, and the toy is sucking on your clit perfectly, so you turn your head a bit and catch Ellie’s lips in a needy kiss, tongue pushing into her mouth, eager to feel the warm, wet muscle again, like you had earlier.

This catches Ellie a bit off guard, however she immediately welcomes the kiss eagerly. It prompts her to finger fuck you faster, your body arching into her touch, into the toy. Her tongue was lapping at your mouth, the lewd noises from your cunt and from the kiss making it sound sinful in Ellie’s bedroom.

Your hand went up to the nape of her neck, tugging at her hair, keeping her close as you felt your orgasm growing closer and closer with each passing second.

You break the kiss for only a moment, head looking down to catch a glimpse of Ellie’s skilled fingers working on your poor little pussy.

“I’m….m’so close….f-fuuuuuck…” you moan out loudly as your head falls back against Ellie’s shoulders. She gives you a reassuring nod, turning up the intensity of the toy another notch as her fingers sped up, the girl just as eager as you for your orgasm.

“Come on baby…let go for me….such a good fucking girl for me…that’s it” she praised, her own hips rocking into your ass from behind as the rhythm of her fingers sped up.

And you wanted to hold on longer, let this last just a bit more so you didn’t have to let go of this pleasure so soon, but you just can’t. Because soon, your back is arching so painfully, and the orgasm feels so good it almost hurts, your eyesight nearly going white as it washes over you like electricity, a loud moan leaving your lips as you grip Ellie’s thigh so tightly, it’ll leave bruises.

Ellie moans with you, immediately turning off the toy and tossing it to the side once she feels your pussy flutter around her fingers, helping you ride out your orgasm without it being too much.

“Good girl…that’s my good girl…fuck…there we go” she groans softly, holding your body close to hers as she litters your throat and cheek with kisses, before her hand comes up, grabs your jaw and angles your face up to catch your lips in a deep, needy kiss, which you can only moan into and let her control completely.

After that, you aren’t really sure what happened. There’s spotty memories of Ellie slowly resting your spent body in her bed, getting up and turning off the camera, and then coming back to cuddle in bed with you.

But what you are sure of, is that you’re definitely doing this again with her.

[augustinewrites]

satoru absolutely does not know how to ride a bike idk how i know this but i know cw: suggestive content, mdni

“that was…good,” satoru settles on, still unable to properly articulate. he whines, still a little lightheaded and breathless as you roll off of him with a laugh, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before tucking yourself into his side.

“just good?” you tease, fingertips gliding over his chest. “if i’d known there was going to be a review, i’d have done that thing with my hips that you like.”

you roll your hips against his thigh, sending a warm chill down satoru’s spine. 

“don’t do that,” he warns, but his face is flushed and he can feel himself getting hard again. “unless you want to leave the kids at your dad’s for another night.”

“oh! speaking of the kids!” your sweet movements stop abruptly, causing him to peek one eye open to send you a long suffering look. “my father bought the kids bikes yesterday, and i told him you’d teach them how to ride them.”

now, it’s no secret that gojo satoru is good at a lot of things. 

he can manipulate the infinity around him and exorcise special grade curses with the flick of his wrist. he knows the words to every avicii song and can make mug cakes that don’t always explode in the microwave. 

there’s only one thing he can’t do. 

“i remember when my dad taught me,” you sigh. there’s a fondness in your eyes as you describe the memory. it’s something special and cherished, and satoru wants that for his kids. 

_____

“this isn’t funny, shoko!” 

“you’re right.”

“thank you—”

“because it’s hilarious. gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer of our time, never learned how to ride a bicycle.” 

she trails off in a fit of laughter. satoru hasn’t heard her laugh like this in a long time, and he’d be ecstatic if her amusement hadn’t come at his expense. 

“i didn’t have anyone willing to teach me!” he tells her, huffing. “it was all cursed technique this and cursed technique that. not to mention bikes are literal death traps on wheels.”

“motorcycles are death traps on wheels. bicycles are for babies,” she corrects, though he can still hear the laughter bubbling in her response. “why’d you even agree to teach them?”

“because she did this super hot thing with her hips, but focus!” he whispers harshly. “i can’t teach the kids how to ride a bike! what if i just bought a car—”

“only you would try to buy a car for an 11 year old.”

“not for megumi. tsumiki’s basically 13. she can start learning so when she’s old enough—”

“so tsumiki is going to learn how to drive before you learn how to ride a bike? you are so tragic,” she snickers. 

well, it sounds lame when she puts it like that.

he looks up when the sound of the shower running stops. “and you’re useless,” he growls into the phone. “i’ll ask nanami.” 

_____

NOT GOJO 

[shoko]: i heard gojo’s teaching the kids how to ride their bikes

[you]: yeah :) i’m so excited!

[shoko]: me too.

[shoko]: can you send videos?

[nanami]: I would also like to see videos. 

[you]: sure. but why the interest?

[shoko]: bcs i care about them and want to celebrate their achievements

[you]: you didn’t come to megumi’s violin recital because you said you valued your eardrums. 

[nanami]: It will be a fun moment to look back on when they’re older. 

[shoko] yeah that ^

[you]: fine i’ll send videos.

______

the sun is just beginning to set and the city beginning to settle when you take the kids to the park. 

“i really think—”

“satoru, we are not teaching megumi how to teleport to school.”

“but if he uses the shadows—”

you thrust a helmet into his hands, stern look shutting him up immediately. 

“fuck,” he mumbles once your back is turned to help the kids. he shoves the helmet onto his head and buckles it tightly.

the kids walk over to him with their little bikes, the huge helmets on their head making them look like bobble heads. 

you document his torture with a quick photo before giving him the floor. 

“riding a bike is…super simple,” he tells them, patting the seat of your bike. “you get on, put your feet on the pedals, and…pedal.”

the kids only stare at him, confused looks on their cute faces. 

“maybe you should just show them,” you suggest. 

“why don’t you show them?” he quickly deflects. please please please—

“no! i’m taking the video!” 

fuck.

satoru grips the handles of the bike tightly. he’s faced the worst of the worst, died and come back to life. he could ride a stupid bike.

he kicks at the stand your bike is leaning on, getting it up on the fourth kick. he swings his right leg over so he’s straddling the seat, his feet planted firmly on the ground.

it can’t be that hard, can it?

“watch and learn, kids.”

he takes a breath, then pushes off and places his feet on the pedals.

the bike rolls forward slowly. it’s wobbly at best, but he’s doing it. he’s doing it! he picks up a little momentum, heading off into the sunset—

“satoru! don’t lead them downhill!”

sure enough, the path in front of him leads down a slight decline. he squeezes the brakes and jerks to the side, sending him toppling over the bike and into the grass.

as he lays in the grass, dazed, megumi and tsumiki bike right past him. he’s sure the former even rolls his eyes.

“they have training wheels,” he says when you run over to check on him. “they’re cheating—”

“do you not know how to ride a bike?!”

“i never learned,” he grumbles, cheeks blushing at the admission. 

“oh, honey,” you sigh, brushing some grass from his shirt. “why didn’t you just tell me?”

you kiss his brow, unable to hold back your laughter as he pouts. “you were so excited about me teaching them. didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“you could never disappoint us,” you tell him firmly. “now come on, i’ll teach all three of you.”

so you teach him, holding onto the back of his bike until he’s steady, until he’s confident enough to do it on his own. 

he’ll get the hang of it eventually.

[pathologicalreid]

gemini | S.R.

two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.

part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all word count: 3.42k a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.

so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding

Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.

In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”

He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.

Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.

She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.

Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.

You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?

“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.

Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.

He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”

Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.

Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”

“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.

The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”

You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.

Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.

“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.

His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.

Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.

This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”

Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.

The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.

You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.

He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”

David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.

Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.

Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.

It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.

You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.

Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.

Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.

There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance  and nodded quickly, “Yes.”

Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.

Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.

“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.

Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.

You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.

You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.

Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.

“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.

Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”

Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”

“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.

Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.

As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”

The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.

Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.

Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.

He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”

Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.

Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.

Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.

“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.

Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.

Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.

You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.

He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”

His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”

On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.

Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.

The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.

If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.

“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.

Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.

Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.

Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.

Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.

As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.

“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”

He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”

Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.

Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.

As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.

Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.

He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”

Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”

“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”

Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.

Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”

“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.

She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”

Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.

part two

[hitomisuzuya]

Thinking about reader getting herself stuck in a wall for some reason and asks Scara to help her out. But because her rear end is exposed at his side, he got horny cuz she's helpless and can't help but fuck and fill her up with his seed before actually helping her out

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut.

You stared, wide eyed at what just happened. You'd been reaching for a piece of jewelry to wear whenever your hand twitched. The next thing you knew, it was falling out of your hand, falling in between the dresser and the wall.

You assessed the situation, and gathered that you indeed could fit into the space to retrieve your jewelry. Scaramouche walked into your room just in time to see you bent over in between the dresser and the wall.

"What are you doing?" He asked, crossing his arms as he watched you straining your fingers out to retrieve the jewelry.

"I dropped something," You said, sticking your tongue out in concentration. You smiled somewhat when you picked up the piece of jewelry.

You started to move back, however, you discovered that getting out was a lot harder than getting in. You started to struggle, trying to angle your body in certain ways to see if you could wiggle out.

But to avail.

You were stuck.

You let out a quiet, exasperated sigh.

"What's wrong? Are you stuck?" Scaramouche scoffed, teasing you. You couldn't see the way his eyes were fixated on your ass as he moved closer to you.

"...No," You replied, you could practically feel the shit eating smirk on his face. You wiggled a little before you sighed, defeated. You blushed when you realized what exactly you were stuck on. "...Yes. I'm stuck..on my boobs."

Scaramouche laughed. "It's not funny, Scara. I'm really stuck," You said, trying to move again. Your ass was inadvertently up against his crotch, making him swallow back a groan of lust.

"How inconvenient for you, but," He purred, grinding against you. "Very convenient for me." He pushed your skirt up around your hips, his fingers finding your clit outside your panties. He rubbed and stroked, drawing arousal to dampen your panties.

"Seriously, Scara?! I'm stuck and that's the first thing your mind?" You exclaimed, swallowing back a moan when you felt your clit beginning to swell and throb.

"You are so delicate, so helpless without me," Scaramouche pushed your panties aside, pinching your clit between his fingers. "I'll help you out," He took his fingers off of your clit to unbutton his shorts, "when I am done of course."

Taking out his cock, he pumped his hand on it before pressing the tip against your clit. You could do nothing but moan softly in pleasure, grinding back against him.

"Before I fuck you full of my cum, allow me to tell you how impractical it was not to move the dresser aside some first," Scaramouche taunted, angling your hips before he pushed his cock inside of you, bottoming out with one snap of his hips.

You gasped loudly in pleasure, your fingernails digging into the surface of the floor to ground yourself as he cock kissed your sweet spot. He hit it with well aimed accuracy, bringing your walls to quiver and clamp around his cock.

"You poor thing, you are so sensitive. Your walls always beg to squeeze around my cock the moment I fuck myself inside of you. You know I love it when you are needy," Scaramouche enjoyed the way you were quivering in pleasure, your moans bleeding into broken whimpers and sobs of pleasure.

"That's my good girl, babble about how good I am making you feel," He groaned, shuddering in pleasure from the way his cock throbbed with his impending orgasm.

His fingers found your clit again, he could feel you were close. Just a few more thrusts would push you over the edge, bringing to cream screaming on his cock.

Scaramouche fucked you through your orgasm, his cum painting your walls as it spilled inside of you. His pace never relented while he made sure hardly a drop leaked out of you.

You whined when Scaramouche pulled out of you, grinding needily against him. He chuckled, moving the dresser aside for to crawl out.

[kissitbttr]

dilf!toji who finds you sitting in the curb at one am when he’s doing a quick run to 7/11 to grab a few snacks and a six pack. wondering why on earth, a pretty girl like you is alone.

after paying, he exits through the door before walking cautiously towards you. eyes glancing left and right to find no one is around, not even a car. meaning that you may have walked here.

“hi there sweetheart, you okay?” he calls out of worries. it’s very dark outside and far too dangerous for a young thing like you to be all here alone.

the moment you turn your head around, toji swears he had never seen someone so beautiful. glossy irises looking up at him with your messy long curls framing your features. glittery makeup decorating your eyes, nose and lips.

you must be no older than twenty-five.

“huh?” so clueless, yet so pretty. “o-oh. i’m—good, sir.. thank you” shooting him a small toothy grin with a gummy worm tuck in between your teeth,

he chuckles at that, hand shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. how adorable.

he nods his chin towards your disregarded kitten heels beside you. “rough night?”

shrugging, you tug off the stretchy sweet off your mouth before chewing. “something like that.”

he tsks at that, head shaking. “it’s not safe for a girl like you to be out here. considering it’s very late. did you walk here?”

nodding, you put a strand of hair behind your ear. “i did, yes. i needed.. food. i was hungry.”

your answer makes him breathe out a laugh. “candies aren’t food, sweetheart—i assumed you were at a party dressing like that” he points out at your skin tight pink dress that barely covers your thighs, and he has to restrain himself from thinking unholy thoughts.

“it was getting quite crowded… i didn’t like it.. suffocating” your voice coming off quiet, if not—sad—“the food there is awful too”

toji hums, taking another step closer as your eyes follow his movements. head tilting back a bit when you notice he’s only standing inches away from your small figure,

“boyfriend not around?” his head move to the side, eyes roaming down your figure. shaking your head, he asks again. “what happened?”

you reply shakily. “he dumped me.. called me nasty things” a tear escapes your eye as you begin to remember what your ex had done to you two hours prior. “t-that’s why i’m here.”

when he sees you beginning to cry, he can’t help but feel bad. what a fucking asshole he thinks. making a cute girl cry and dumped her in the middle of the night? who fucking does that?!

he crouches down to your eye level. and that’s when you finally take a good look of his appearance. breath almost hitching at just how even more handsome he looks up close. even the faint scar across his lips just makes this man even more hotter.

“i’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. sounds to me like he’s a straight jerk, yeah?” he says with a small smile. seeing you nod as a reply. gaze isn’t moving from his. “don’t cry over him, i bet he doesn’t deserve a beautiful girl like you”

your cheeks warm at that, eyes dropping to your lap just so he won’t notice how nervous he makes you feel by that comment. however, his finger moves underneath your chin to get you to look back at him again. his thumb grazing against your soft skin,

“want me to beat his ass for you? because i will, just lead the way”

you can’t help but giggle at his offer, and it makes toji’s heart skip a beat at the beautiful sound. his lips stretch into a bigger smile when he sees you like that.

“atta girl. there she is” he chuckles, “how old are you, baby?”

“i’m twenty one”

toji mutters out a soft ‘fuck’ which earns a confused frown from you. he’s almost twice your age. “you need a ride back to the party? i promise i’m not a creep or anything. just can’t stand at the thought of you walking back alone. something bad could happen, you know?”

“i would like that very much sir, thank you” a smile pulls upon your pink glossy lips, fingers fiddling with each other,

toji finds you to be endearing, adorable and pretty when you look at him like that. it has been too long since someone makes his heart ponder like this, and all you had to do was just smile at him with a gummy packet in your hand.

“call me toji, sweetheart—c’mere. up you get” he moves the sixpack towards his left hand as the other grabs yours, helping you up on your feet. “but before that, i think you need to get better food in your system. we’ll stop by at something, yeah?”

you nod quickly, slipping your feet back into the heels with a wide smile not leaving your face. “okay!”

with that, toji smiles back at you before putting his hand on your back, guiding you towards his car.

-

will expand because in this au toji is a rich ass man and ready to give him everything for his soon to be baby <3

(look what you made me do @tojisun )

[yeosgoa]

10:11 • ғᴇ̀ᴄᴏɴᴅᴇʀ (NSFW)

♡ assistant!Hongjoong x witch!afab!reader

♡ academia, witch, smut

♡ WC • 3845

♡ Warnings!! (tags) • Sex potion, witchcraft, swearing, kissing, praise, spit/drool, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, edging, overstimulation, handjob, titjob, blowjob, manhandling, fingering, creampie, breeding, lactation, multiple positions, anal, knotting, semi-public sex, mutation, vampirism, reader wears long nails, reader has fangs, reader is implied to be shorter than Hongjoong. (pls lmk if I missed anything.)

♡ A/N: this isn't proofread, will do sometime in the future. féconder means fertilizer/pollinate in French if I'm not mistaken. Any French speakers feel free to correct me.

ೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀ ═══ೋ❀❀ೋೋ❀❀ೋ═══ ❀

 The rain pattered on the window rather heavily. You and your assistant, Hongjoong were in your school’s greenhouse, while you finished up on your latest potions and he read to you.

   “It is the eve of St. George’s Day. Do you not know that tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going to?” Hongjoong recited, pacing slowly back and forth behind you. The novel ‘Dracula’ is in his right hand while his left hand rests behind his back. His glasses perched right on his sharp pointed nose as he tilted his head to the side continuing. “She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but without effect. Finally, she went down on her knees and implored me not to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very ridiculous but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I th-”

   “Yes come here, business,” You interrupted right then, beckoning him over. Hongjoong placed a ribbon in between the pages before closing the ages-old novel. He walked over to you until you were side by side, and he looked down at you.

   “Yes, darling?” He raised a brow a bit, watching as you poured a yellowish iridescent liquid into a rather small goblet. “What's this?”

   You handed him the goblet, looking up into his eyes, “it’s supposed to suppress arousal.” You inform, turning back to the pot where you grabbed a bottle to store the rest in.

   “It’s supposed to make me not horny?” He clarifies, looking intently at the potion. You nod in response, “Exactly.”

   “How long is it supposed to take effect?” Hongjoong takes a smell of it, it smells of Gingko Biloba, Red Ginseng, and Yohimbe. There’s also a dollop of a poppy scent in there too. “I’m not sure, we'll just have to see.” You reply, watching the rain pour outside.

   Hongjoong takes a swig, swallowing the potion that felt rather thick in his throat. The taste itself was bitter but sweet. He could get past it.

   “It tastes like…like-” “Anti-horniness?” You turn your head a bit to notice a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Very much.” He answers, smacking his teeth. “What purpose was this for by the way?”

   You paused, thinking about it. Truth be told you actually weren’t sure why, but you could list reasons as to why. “Hmm…” You trailed off. “Maybe for uh… people who struggle to keep it in their pants? I don’t know. People who struggle with sex addiction?” Hongjoong nodded slowly, “I guess that could make sense.”

   There was a comfortable silence passing for a few minutes before Hongjoong felt his slacks tightening. Was this supposed to happen? He believed not, the potion is an arousal suppressant. He opted to keep it to himself, figuring it would go away quickly and that this was just a part of the process.

   However, more minutes passed, and Hongjoong’s breath grew heavy as his slacks suddenly felt twice as small. He let go of his novel and looked down at the floor. “...Y/n?”

   “Yeah?” You kept your eyes on your own spell book, skimming through pages without actually reading them. Your back was faced towards him, bent over the counter. His eyes fell on your ass which your long, tight godet skirt shaped perfectly. His breath hitched, his skin growing hot.

   “I… I don’t think this is a suppressant, Y/n.” He states. His cock is visibly hard, fighting against his slacks.

   “What do you mean, Joong? I-” You turn around to see the view. His cheeks flushed red, visibly sweaty under the layers he wore. His hands gripped the counter, and he gulped. “R-Read that spell again.” He stutters.

   You grab the spellbook, turning back to the page where you followed the steps to create the suppressant. Looking at the header you creased your brows. “Joong, it says aféconder, that’s a suppressant.” You say, feeling bubbling in your stomach. Hongjoong felt his stomach tighten himself, he shook his head. “No… it can’t. Let me see the book.”

   He leaned over and grabbed the book, skimming over the page with a deep sigh. “... oh Y/n…” he closes his eyes, placing the book back down. “Y/n, this is féconder. The ‘a’ was a stain.” Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose, turning away from you.

   You felt your mind slap you right across the face, and you rested your head in your hands, propped on your elbows. Your hands ran across your face, and through your hair, as you let out a soft but low groan. “Sorry, Joong,” you whisper, and you feel his hand rake up your back. “There has to be a way to reverse it, right?” he mutters, his voice huskier than usual. 

   “There’s no spells in this book that could reverse it, I believe.” You reply, flipping through the spellbook. “But… but we could try something else…?” You suggest, turning your head to look at him.

   “Like…?” He trailed off, brows creased. You turn to fully face him, and hesitantly you reach for his trousers. “We could do this the natural way…” you whisper, not wanting to make it awkward.

   Despite Hongjoong’s obvious distress, he looks at you with an unsure look. “We’re in public, Y/n,” he says, looking around the greenhouse.

   “But no one’s around, right?” You also look around, the rain had gotten heavier, and the doors to the greenhouse were closed. It was just you, Hongjoong, and the plants, along with the dim lights inside.

   Hongjoong gulped, feeling the knot in his stomach twist more before he nearly whined. “Please help me…”

   You didn’t waste time, he looked miserable. Your hands fumbled with the button and zipper of his trousers, then unclipped his suspenders. Your long, black French almond nails raked against his stomach, making him tense up. Hongjoong looked down at you as you cupped his painfully hard bulge, his eyes then fluttering shut as you rubbed him with your palm to at least soothe him.

   He let out a sensitive whimper. His hand then grabbed your jaw, pulling you up as he swooned down for a kiss, encasing your lips in his. At that moment your hand squeezed at the wet bulge in his underwear, feeling the beads of precum against your palm.

   With your finger hooked onto the waistband of his black underwear, and with one swift motion, you tugged it down to his midthighs. Pulling away from the kiss you cupped your hand under his lips, making him spit all his excess drool into it before taking his leaking, wet cock into said hand.

   Hongjoong whimpered again softly. Hair was already sticking to his sweaty forehead due to how strong the aphrodisiac was. He felt like he could cum untouched, but at the same time, it felt as if everything was holding itself in. The tip was drooling and deep red as if irritated, and as you started to pump his cock into your hand you could feel the veins on his shaft pulsating. You looked up at him, his pretty pink spit-covered lips slightly agape. He breathed like he was making noises, but only small broken whines and deep breaths left him. Certain strokes elicited no noises at all, his chest tightening and making him freeze, breath caught in his throat.

   Your eyes visibly dilated at the sight. He’s so pretty it hurts. You’ve taken note of your long-time friend, who was also your assistant’s beauty before, but you opted to keep the relationship platonic. This… is platonic, right? Having his pretty cock in your hand as he silently begs you to take care of the problem you caused him with your stupid mistake. Your honest but dumb mistake. A part of you was lowkey grateful about your unconsciousness though, because then you wouldn’t be here so close to him, seeing the drool dribble down his chin and eyebrows creasing in pain and pleasure. You could feel heat pool at your core, slick dripping onto your panties.

   “You alright, pretty?” You cooed softly, your free hand cupping his shoulder, your thumb rubbing against the fabric of his dress shirt. He let out a subtle nod, whining like a bitch in heat. The noise made your clit throb, your hole clenching around nothing. “You’re so pretty, Joongie..”

   You picked up the pace, running your thumbpad over his slit every time your hand got to his cockhead. You made sure to let your long nails brush against his full, purple-hued balls, and occasionally you would swoop down to massage them for a few seconds before coming back up and pumping his shaft again. Hongjoong sucked in a breath, biting the inside of his cheek. Your hand that was once on his shoulder went to the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

   Hongjoong slid his tongue into your mouth immediately. You could taste the bitterness from the potion when your tongue slid on his, forcing it into his mouth and running over the roof. Both moaned into each other’s mouths, and you grabbed his jaw, pulling back to spit in his mouth. Hongjoong swallowed it without hesitation, his hands trembling as his grip on the counter tightened.

   Your grip on his cock tightened. Your fingers felt every vein pulsate under your touch, and the shaft twitched. Your thighs shut against each other, and the hot slick gushed out your hole onto your panties, making a wet spot. You could feel a weighed pool, the aphrodisiac now in your system since you kissed Hongjoong.

   Eventually, you let off and unbuttoned your black Lolita-styled dress. Crossing your arms your fingers pinched at the shoulders of your sleeves, pulling them down until your breasts were exposed. Leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw you grazed your fangs down his neck, undoing his button-up and taking it off him. Hongjoong’s skin was covered in sweat, red and hot to the touch. His nipples erect under the caress of your hands, the buds feeling hard enough to hurt without any stimulation.

   Lifting your skirt you kneeled before him, making him lean against the counter for a better angle. You pulled off the rest of the top of your dress, bunching it to your waist as you unclipped your bra as well. Hongjoong’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked down at you.

   “W-What are you doing now?” he stuttered, watching you drool onto your tits. You look up at him and his lost expression, shaking your head. “Helping you, Joongie,” you mutter, rubbing your saliva over the valley of your mounds. Your hands running over your nipples make you moan, your cheeks heating to a pink flush. Hongjoong stutters out incoherent babbles, and his words are caught in his throat when your tits encase his cock between them, your mouth sealing around the cockhead. Hongjoong’s lips formed an ‘o’ shape, drool falling and directly hitting your tits. 

   You start to move, tongue swirling and gliding up and down his slit and tip, the salty, pearly beads of precum leaking into your tastebuds. Your hands hold firmly onto the sides of your boobs, guiding them up and down his shaft as your mouth goes to work on the head. Hongjoong’s shaky hands move from the counter, one raking up to move his wet hair and the other firmly seated on your head.

   “Y/n,” He moans out prettily, petting your hair. Your eyes flutter shut, focused on making him feel good while also trying to relieve him of the rather painful aphrodisiac. You moan softly around his cock, the vibrations of your hum making his balls tighten. Hongjoong whines out a pathetic “mm’ sorry-” before grabbing your head with both hands and shoving his cock down your throat. Your tits drop out of your hands and you choke a bit, taking a deep breath through your nose as he thrusts rather soppily, creaking out little ‘sorry’s and ‘please’s back to back. His voice cracked a couple of times, whimpering out your name. You grab onto his thighs, nails digging into the sides of them.

   Your chokes and gags on his cock echo throughout the greenhouse. The rather humid heat inside makes you yourself sweat as your hair sticks to your forehead and cheeks. You swallow around his cock, his head rubbing against the wet, plush oropharynx. 

   “G- I- gonna- gonna cum Y/n. m’ so close m’ gonna c-cum,” he whines, his thighs tensing up. He unintentionally pulls on your hair, making you whine out as tears sting your eyes. Your teeth nearly bite down on his cock, the slight graze making him stutter his hips.

   ‘F-Fuck do it again-” he whimpers. You suck and graze your teeth again over the veins of his cock, and without warning he spills into your mouth. You pull off, choking. His hands move to his cock, jerking desperately as his cum paints your face and hair. You squirm on your heels, your heels digging into your ass. You open your eyes and watch the last of his cum leak out, and you felt your nipples swell at the sight. Like before Hongjoong now grabbed your jaw, spitting whatever aphrodisiac he had left into your mouth. You swallowed, it was fair game.

   Getting up onto your now aching feet you let your dress pool at them, leaving you in your lace white panties. Both of you breathed heavily, your head against his chest as your arms ran down his biceps. His hands cupped your ass, pulling down your panties as he pressed his knee against your cunt.

   You whimpered, his knee rubbed against your clit before he lifted you up, sitting you down on the metal counter. The heat made you wince, sucking your teeth. 

   Hongjoong gave you no time to adjust, he hooked his arms under your knees and dragged you to the edge, opening your legs up for him. “H-have t’ fuck you,” he muttered, his cock still rock hard despite cumming seconds ago. 

   Your eyes met, irises fully taken up with dilated pupils as if you two were cats. You whimpered, and he spit on his hand, gathering your juices as he slid his hand up and down your slit. He entered a ringed finger into you, the cold silver eliciting a hiss from you. Pulling out he entered a second finger, both his ring and middle fingers curling up inside you. His fingers weren’t all that long but it felt so good. He managed to find spots inside your spongey walls that you hadn’t touched without having to go deep inside you, he was skillful in this as much as he was skillful with his large grand piano that he composed his music with.

   Hongjoong’s cock rubbed against the metal counter, the hot metal sending shivers down his spine as he felt his cock swell.

   When you had enough, you pulled off his fingers, grabbing his waist and pulling him to you. Hongjoong got the memo, slapping his wet cock onto your clit a few times before slowly inserting himself into your hole, making both of you let out loud gasps and whines. Hongjoong was average, about five and a half inches, but you could swear that when he went inside you you felt him grow to at least seven, or eight. His newfound girth stretched you out deliciously, and his manicured, painted nails raked against your thighs. Tears pricked at both your and Hongjoong’s eyes. He sniffled, his nose turning a shade of pink.

   “Fuck,” You whispered, laying against the counter. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting a couple of stray tears fall. Your gummy walls fluttered around him a few times before he started to move. His hands went to your swollen tits, fondling and massaging them. His palms were sweaty and covered in cum, fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples turning the hard buds to an irritated shade of red. 

   With every languid thrust, he hit deep inside you, balls touching the rim of your puckered asshole. The squelching noise of him moving inside you along with the soft claps of his balls against your ass made you feel lightheaded. Your assistant sniffled again above you, hand moving down to your waist as he started picking up the pace of his thrusts.

   Your hands moved to your fluid-covered face, covering your teary eyes as his cockhead hit into your cervix snuggly. You sniffled, opening your eyes to look up at the man above you, rutting into your pussy like a pup in heat.

   “You feel so good,” He sniffles, swallowing down whatever pathetic sound he may produce next. His head is thrown back, then falls forward as a babbling whine leaves his lips. “Wan m-make you feel g-good Y/n.”

   He sucks on the two fingers he used inside you before and rubs them on the rim of your ass before gently pushing inside. You gasp, moaning out loudly as he starts to move them rather languidly compared to his thrusts. The feeling of his cock hitting the right spots inside you quickly and his fingers in your ass going slow made you micro-orgasm, clenching around him as the genuine knot started to build in your tummy. “J-Joong-” You whimpered, before fluttering around his cock as you came, legs tensed up and wrapped around his waist. “Fuck it feels so good,” you sniffle again.

   Pulling his cock and fingers out you quickly sat up, shoving Hongjoong to a nearby discarded chair. You stumble off the counter, holding his shoulders as you open his legs, and hike a leg over his lap. Grabbing his face you stamp your lips against his once more, sinking down onto his cock. Despite just being connected the stretch makes both of you moan into each other's mouths, Hongjoong letting out a guttural, broken cry.

   You started to hump your clit against his pelvis, but that soon turned into bouncing heavily on his cock. The sound of wet slapping skin resonated loudly throughout the greenhouse, along with a now sobbing Hongjoong along with you. The rain attempting to drown out your sounds was almost futile, your head spinning and ears ringing. You didn’t want to stop, and neither did he. He pulled away from the kiss and grabbed your hips, guiding you up and down his shaft at his own pace.

   “Joong!” you cry out, holding the top rail with tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. His hands were firm on your hips, fingers tight enough you were sure it would cause bruising tomorrow. Your ass collided with his thighs harshly, causing red marks to appear on your plush and flushed ass cheeks.

   Lifting you and slightly hurling you over his shoulder, Hongjoong held your thighs, keeping your legs apart as he began pistoning up into you. You moaned at the sensation of being filled, physically feeling your womb protrude out from your stomach.

   Sitting you back down on him you started to bounce again, rather sloppily this time. Your lips formed in a pout as you whined, hums being produced every time his cockhead met your cum filled cervix.

   “D-Don’ wan’ stop,” you murmured, lips pressed against Hongjoong’s sweaty forehead in a sloppy forehead kiss. His black dilated eyes were glued onto you, tears also running down his cheeks. 

   You began grinding in circles, smothering his cock inside you. You both moaned out sweetly, fangs digging into your bottom lip drawing blood. Hongjoong reached upward, grasping your bottom lip with his teeth as he suckled on the blood. His tongue ran over your bottom lip before pulling away, looking up into your eyes. You started to bounce again, feeling your second orgasm impending.

   “all over y-your cock, Joongie,” you babble, your swollen lips blabbering nonsense as you clamp down onto him, the heavy bounces building up again.

   “Cum, please cum,” you whine, holding your orgasm back. “W-wan it all inside me.”

   Hongjoong started thrusting up again, syncing up in time with your bounces. It didn’t take much, as he started to spill inside your cunt once more, taking one of your breasts into his mouth. He suckled, and as you let go, milk flowed freely from your erect nipples. Hongjoong moaned at the sweet taste, lapping it all up.

   You shivered at the sensation, and Hongjoong pulled away with a pop as he flipped you over, bending you over the counter. With a smack to your ass, he entered your pussy from behind, grabbing a hold of your hair. “C-can’t stop-” he sobbed, pounding into you with no sign of slowing down any time soon. “Gonna keep cumming inside your fucking pussy.”

   “Please,” you whined, shutting your eyes. Your leaking tits raked against the metal counter, painting it a transparent white with your milk. Hongjoong’s hands sneaked from behind you, reaching around to grab your tits. Squeezing them, he pulled you up against his chest, his pelvis meeting the sore, red skin of your ass. Nonstop was he cumming again and again back to back. Your womb visibly protruded, sticking out like a sore thumb. He wrapped one arm around your tits, the other snaking down and feeling at your tummy, feeling the way his cock slid up and down inside you. 

   You came again for a third time without warning, legs shaking. Your eyes rolled back to the inside of your head, and a fourth came on when he didn’t stop.

   “O-oh- oh fuck!” Hongjoong cried, stilling inside you. You fell forward, grasping the counter. You felt his cock literally knot inside you. It grew in size and locked in you like a key. Cum filled you to the brim, you felt like you could vomit from how full you were. Hongjoong was shaking behind you, and he fell forward as well, arms caging you. 

   He whimpered softly, sniffling. Heavy pants and sniffles were shared between you as the last of his cum was milked from him. He finally started to soften, and slowly pulled out of you as your minds went back to being levelheaded. His cock departed with a soft, wet pop, and loads of cum pumped out of you in what felt like gallons onto the floor below.

   “Gosh…” He breathed out, taking a deep sigh. Your legs trembled, and you, exhausted, kept yourself laying forward on the counter.

   “S-So full,” You murmured, the last of his cum spilling out before your womb felt relieved again. Your skin cooled down, the aphrodisiac starting to wear off on the both of you.

   Hongjoong gently scooped you up and sat you down into his lap, as you both regained clarity. He nuzzled his nose into your hair, closing his eyes.

   “Thank you,” He murmured softly.

   “I'll be careful next time,” you murmur back, taking deep breaths.

   “Yeah, make sure it's afèconder, not fèconder.”

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 2)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

(Prologue and Chapter 1)

You tried to close the door quietly behind you, wincing everytime it creaked, but as you tiptoed through the foyer into the living room you quickly realized your stealth was of no use. Your mother sat in her chair in the corner of the room, flipping the page on whatever cheesy self-help book she was worshiping today. She looked up at you and then to the oversized clock on the wall pointedly.

“Really? Sitting up under a single lamp light?” You rolled your eyes. “What are you gonna say next, ‘where have you been young lady?’”

“Actually, I was just going to ask if you had a good night,” she said in her all-too-familiar-guilt-trip tone. “But since I’m apparently such a stereotype, maybe I should ask where you’ve been. I’ll be the overbearing mother you’ve made up in your head.”

You just sighed. “I’m not doing this with you, goodnight mom.”

“Don’t forget we’re having dinner at the island club tomorrow night!” She called after you. “Just you, me, and Chip.”

You winced. “I don’t know if the Island Club is really my vibe anymore, mom.”

“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “The other 51 weeks of the year, you are welcome to walk around like you’re better than all of us. But this week is my week and I want to have dinner at the Island Club with my daughter and my fiancé.”

In your twenty years on earth, you’d had approximately one million fights with your mother. You were wise enough by now to know which ones you were going to lose.

You sighed in defeat, “Alright mom, I’ll be there.”

Like she said, it was just one week and then you could get the hell out of here. Thinking of the night you just had with a pang of sadness, you thought, this time maybe for good.

Two Years Ago…

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe said, beaming.

“Rafe what did you do?” You asked.

“Got you something,” he shrugged, his casual tone betrayed by the big, bright smile on his face, his dimples on full display. He looked so excited it made your heart swell.

“You got me a car?” You said in disbelief.

“Not just a car, your dream car!” He extended his long arms, displaying the vehicle like a Price-is-Right model.

“You actually bought me a car?” You said quietly, shaking your head in awe.

“Do you like it?” He asked, now wringing his hands nervously. His sudden timidness made you weak, wanting to hold him in his vulnerability.

“Baby,” you said quietly before suddenly breaking out in a run toward him, leaping into his arms. Even in his surprise, he caught you, like he always did. 

You tucked your head into the crook of his neck as your arms and legs wrapped around him. He held you back so tightly, you thought he might never let go. 

“I love it,” you mumbled into his skin. “You have no idea.”

He pulled his head back to get a look at you. You had tears in your eyes as you beamed back at him.

“I love you,” you said before dropping a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You have no idea,” he said, before kissing you back harder. 

The kiss turned more passionate as he started walking the two of you toward the car, removing one hand from you to open the door to the back seat. He lowered you in slowly, both of you laughing into the kiss. You scooted backward to the other side of the back seat, pulling your legs to your chest to make room for him. For a moment, he just stood in the open door, taking you in. You giggled nervously under his hungry gaze.

“You gonna join me?” You asked, taunting him with the low, sexy voice you knew made him crazy.

“Just wanna look at you for a sec,” he explained. “Wanna remember.”

You leaned forward and started to crawl towards him, hands and knees sinking into the soft leather seat. 

“You have your whole life to look at me, baby,” you assured him. 

Once you were close enough to him, you stretched your neck forward and kissed him again, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him into the car with you. He gladly obliged and shut the door behind him. Once he was settled, you threw your leg over him and climbed in his lap, arms outstretched past either side of his head to hold onto the seat back behind him. 

“You're not gonna hit the road in the middle of the night and leave me here now that you’ve got your own ride?” He asked, close enough to your lips that you could feel his breath sweep across them as he talked.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Unless you’re in the seat right next to me.”

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back before your lips met. You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“I got you another gift,” Rafe said.

“Rafe,” you said, “you already got me a car. I don't know what could possibly top that.”

Removing one of his hands from your hips, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a little black box.

“Open it and find out,” he held the box out to you.

With wide eyes, you took what was clearly a jewelry box from him and opened it slowly. Rafe reached up to turn on the car light so you could better see what was inside. It was a dainty gold ring, twisting around itself to make a small knot right in the middle. It was simple, but so beautiful.

“It’s a promise ring,” he explained.

You watched him watching you, realizing he was nervous, afraid you were about to reject his gesture. You could tell by the look on his face that he had more he was struggling to say, so you silently reached out your hand and placed it on his cheek, letting him know you were listening, that he was safe.

He nuzzled his head into your soft hand and closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. After a moment, he opened them into yours and took a deep breath.

“You are…everything,” he said, eyebrows knit together in sincerity. As if he could somehow look at you hard enough to make you understand. “I don’t care what our parents say, or what all the people on this fucking island say, you are it for me, y/n. I will love you forever. Even if they cut us off, if we have no money and have to live out of the back of this car, I don’t care, I want you. Forever.”

He searched your face for any sign that you’d reject him, or laugh at his earnest desperation. You’d never treated him like that before, but he had been raised to believe that vulnerability was weakness, and even with all the loyalty you’ve shown him, he couldn’t fight the thought that when he told you what he was really feeling, you’d shoot him down.

Instead, you simply said, “Well, am I going to have to put it on myself?”

He laughed, relief spreading through his chest. He took the box from you and removed the ring, slipping it on your left ring finger before placing a kiss over it.

You grabbed his face with both hands and looked at him hard, praying he’d believe you when you swore, “I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.”

His lower lip flinched slightly as he fought back the tears he could feel springing up. He kissed you quick, hoping you didn’t notice. You did notice, but you kissed him back to take his mind off of it, knowing how much he hates crying in front of people. You slid your hands back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently in appreciation as he moved his lips to your neck. 

“Don’t leave any marks,” you whined. “My mom…”

“You’re 18 now, baby, she can’t do shit,” he mumbled before going back to sucking on the tender spot at the base of your neck. 

“Yeah, except stop feeding me and kick me out of the house,” you protested, though not exactly pushing him away.

“Like I said, we’ll just live in this car,” he joked. 

“Or,” you said, pulling back from him to separate his lips from your skin before it could change color, “you could leave your mark somewhere she can’t see.”

With those words, you lifted your shirt over your head. Rafe watched hungrily, your words and movements making him grow harder than he already was. You smirked as you pressed down on him, making him hiss. Eyes locked to his, you reached back to unclasped your bra, letting the straps slide away as you revealed yourself to him slowly.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he took you in. He’d seen you naked countless times now, but the way he always looked at you like it was the very first time was the hottest thing in the world to you. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” With those words, he sunk his head down and started pressing gentle kisses to the top of your breasts. 

“I love when you talk to me like that, baby,” you gasp and arch your back as he captures the sensitive skin just above your nipple between his lips and starts sucking, taking you up on your suggestion to mark you somewhere no one will see. 

 You grab the back of his neck for stability, lightly letting your painted nails sink into his skin, the blissful pain of it making his hips buck up into yours. You moan as his length presses perfectly against your clit. You’re so wet you wonder if it's soaked through to his jeans yet.

“You like this?” He asked before releasing his lips and sinking into a spot on your other breast to add to the masterpiece he was leaving on your skin.

“I love it,” You answered.

“It’s your day, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he told you.

“You always make me feel good,” you whimpered as you continued to writhe on him.

He pulled his mouth from you suddenly and moved his hands to your ass, holding you up so you couldn’t push down on him anymore. You pouted slightly, and he smirked at your neediness. 

“Today’s all about you,” he said. He moved you off of him and laid you down on the seat, kneeling so he could hover over you. He caged you in with an arm at either side of your head. You twisted your neck to look at his arm, admiring the veins that ran up the side, committing the sight to memory. You loved everything about your boyfriend’s body, but something about his arms really drove you wild. Impulsively, you leaned over and placed a kiss on the inside of his forearm, loving how soft his skin was. 

The gentleness of the moment made his skin break out in goosebumps and he looked down at you with hearts in his eyes. The only thing in the world he wanted at that moment was to make you feel how in love with you he is, so he lowered himself between your legs and got to work on your third gift of the day.

Now…

Rafe had two meetings today to sell some of the melted gold, both of which went exactly how he’d hoped. He didn’t understand how the high from the sale could wear off so quickly. So, like most nights, he found himself at the Island Club bar, three bourbons deep. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the conversation he just had with Topper about Sarah not answering his calls. 

“What a cuck,” he said to himself under his breath. 

Little did he know that just a few yards away, inside the club dining room, the girl he used to regularly ditch all of his friends for was sitting down to dinner.

You liked Chip just fine, he was a deputy at the sheriff’s department and though you had never been a huge fan of cops, he seemed to genuinely care about helping people. He made your mom happy, and she appears to have worked through some of the anxiety issues she had in your teens, which you were grateful for.

Even though you were tucked in a dark corner of the Island Club dining room, you and your mother still clocked all of the stares from nosy neighbors, wine moms, and kids you grew up with. It was like an Elvis sighting, after the wildfire of rumors that had engulfed the island after your disappearance two years ago. Chip, however, seemed to be none the wiser to your storied past. You didn’t know if your mom had told him all that had happened, and you kind of hoped she wouldn’t. He seemed like a simple guy with a simple view of the world, and you’d appreciate it if your mom would let him stay that way.

Chip was telling a story about one of his coworkers getting their arm stuck in the vending machine, when a commotion from outside the restaurant cut him off.

“I pay just as much as all of you assholes!” A man’s voice bellowed through the open windows.

Your heart froze and you closed your eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. When you looked up, you caught your mother’s glare, she had apparently placed the voice, too. 

A glass shattered, followed by the voice yelling, “take your fucking hands off me, douche bag!”

“I’m just going to…” you set your napkin on the table and pushed your chair back.

“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “We’re having dinner.”

“I’m just going to make sure everything is okay,” you said, hoping she didn’t realize that you were trying to convince yourself you had a reason to go out there just as much as you were trying to convince her. 

“You’re not here for him,” she said. “You’re supposed to be here for me, for your family.”

Chip’s eyes darted quickly back and forth between you and your mother, totally lost. The two of you gave each other a look that clearly had years of history behind it, and he decided he might want to just stay in the dark.

“I’ll be right back,” you said definitively, standing from the table. Your mother sipped her wine bitterly as she watched you go.

You made your way out onto the patio, following the booming of Rafe’s voice over to the bar. He was face-to-face with another member, a middle aged man who was jabbing his finger into Rafe’s chest as he yelled at him.

“Everyone here is just trying to have a nice evening and you’re over here running your mouth,” the man spat.

Rafe shoved the man’s hand away from him and looked to the much younger woman who was standing behind him.

“I’m sorry for ruining your date with grandpa here, sweetheart,” he joked loudly. “If you ever want to be with a guy who can get it up without a truckload of Viagra, you give me a call, gorgeous.”

The man shoved Rafe and he stumbled backward, laughing, clearly drunk.

“Woah there cowboy,” Rafe chuckled. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene, now would we?”

He was being smug, dripping with arrogance, and it was making you sick. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. You thought this time you’d be able to confront him, try to understand why he was treating people like this, but the twist of your stomach forced you away from the scene as you fled from the patio towards the beach.

Rafe was about ready to cock his fist back, too drunk to care about escalating the situation further, when he saw it again - a flash of long hair and a flowing skirt disappearing from view. He suddenly felt completely sober. He patted the guy on the back and threw back the last of his drink before following the mysterious figure down to the beach. 

You stood at the edge of the water, doubled over with your heels in your hand, trying desperately to catch your breath. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you should just keep your head down and act like the only thing that matters to you on this island is her wedding. But both of you knew that wasn’t true, that it could never be true, not when he’s here. Not when something has clearly changed him, and you can’t sleep at night not knowing what horrible thing could’ve happened to make him behave this way. Just because you buried your love for him, didn’t mean the ghost of it had stopped haunting you.

You composed yourself and decided to go back to dinner. You’d fake your way through the rest of the week. You’d lie low, send your mother on her honeymoon, and finally get off this island for good. But when you turned back toward the club, he was there. Standing ten-feet away, just watching you.

“It is you,” he whispered, the wind knocked out of him from the shock of seeing your face in the moonlight.

“Hi, Rafe,” you say, but it doesn’t come out in the confident, casual way you had practiced for the last two years, preparing for the moment you’d inevitably see him again. Instead it’s meek, shaking with your unstable breath.

“What are you…” Rafe is speechless. For just a moment, he’s that soft, insecure boy you used to know. The boy you loved, who loved you desperately in return. He must catch the faint smile you can’t hold back, because his mouth slams shut and his jaw clenches. His wide eyes become steeley again as his shield flies back up.

“What are you doing here?” He practically spits.

“My mom is getting married,” you say, no smile gracing your lips anymore. “I thought you would’ve heard.”

“Been busy,” he shrugs. “Believe it or not I have actual shit going on.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “I can tell.”

“The fuck’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He takes an angry step towards you.

“Just the way you were talking back there, and at your party the other night,” you say. “Looks like you’re the big man now.”

It was you at the party. Rafe shakes his head in disgust, this is the final confirmation he needed to make-up his mind about whether he’s pissed at you. He’d prepared for this moment too, not sure if when he saw you again, he’d want to kiss you or kill you. Right now he was leaning toward the latter.

“Yeah, maybe I am,” Rafe says. “Now that I don’t have all of you holding me back.”

There’s a flash of something you can’t quite place in his eyes. For just a moment, he’s not here, like he’s losing a battle to stay in the moment. You wonder what kind of demons are roaring in his mind. You wish you didn’t want so desperately to exorcise them.

“All of us?” You repeat his words back to him, wondering who else joins you in the club of people Rafe Cameron now hates. You look him up and down with soft, sad eyes. 

“What happened to you, Rafe?”

“I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you, Y/N,” your name shoots off his tongue like a bullet, nothing like the way he used to coo it in worship when he held you, or moan it in awe when he was inside of you. “Why don’t you just fuck off back to wherever you’ve been. You don’t belong here anymore.”

You just look at him, head tilted as your narrow eyes size him up in a way that makes him feel like an exposed nerve. You know the second you get home tonight, the tears will come, but right now you put on a stoic demeanor to match his own. This was the opposite of the reunion you had dreamed of. You thought you’d be back in the arms of the person who knew you better than anyone in the world, but instead you stand face-to-face with a total stranger.

You start to walk back up the beach in his direction, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobs as you get closer to him. Once you’re next to him, you look up into the blue eyes that you used to imagine your kids would have someday. So many things you’d wanted to say, hundreds of letters never sent, millions of tiny memories you’d hold onto forever, but now, with his frame looming over you, all you could think to say was,

“I hate your hair.”

And for the third time this week, he stood breathless as he watched you disappear.

(chapter 3)

a/n: THANK YOU so much for all the support on chapter one, I am actually blown away I did not think so many people would enjoy my words!! Special thank you to bestie @nadvs for all the inspo and advice!!! 🫶🫶🫶

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