#they don’t hesitate when he snaps at them when they know it’s important

[of-many-fandomss]

Three times Charles or Max pined for you and the one time they finally did something about it?

Puppy

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: slight cursing

A/N: please don’t judge this, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything

Word count: 1.4k

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Charles? Mr. Leclerc?”

It wasn’t the voice that roused the driver from being trapped in a loop of thoughts within his own mind, it was the gentle but firm nudge against his arm.

His head snapped to the side, his eyebrows up and eyes slightly wide, “Huh?” He breathed out in confusion.

Carlos smirked a bit at his frazzled teammate, “They’re talking to you.”

Charles’s gaze finally floated to the ground below the stage he was sitting upon, where people were sitting in a line, looking up at him expectantly.

He shook his head slightly, lifting his microphone off of his lap and lifting it to his lips, “Sorry, what was that?”

The man that had been asking the question for the press conference looked slightly annoyed, but repeated his question anyway.

Leclerc gave a short answer before his gaze drifted back to the place it had previously been resting, to the person standing in the very back in the crowd, somehow in the middle of a light that made it very easy for his eyes to lock onto.

You, however, were not returning his gaze. Your head was down as you furiously typed away at your tablet, eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration and as oblivious to the piece of hair that had fallen in front of your face as you were of the formula one driver's stare.

“You’re staring again, mate.” Carlos’s voice floated into his ear in a low murmur as he directed his microphone away from him so as to not pick up on their quiet conversation as the crowd continued without paying them any mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was a pathetic lie, and they both knew it. Especially since he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes off of you long enough to even look at Sainz.

A chuckle escaped the man’s lips and he snickered, “Like a little lost puppy,” He mused.

That was able to finally bring Charles’s eyes away from you and to his teammate, blue orbs narrowing slightly, “Shut it,” Annoyance sat in his tone, though he didn’t bother even trying to deny anything.

Without even looking at you, it was as if the man could sense your movement and turned back to you just in time for you to look up from your device, your eyes locking with his.

“Smile,” You mouthed, knowing very well as his pr that any bad media pictures would not be fun to clean up in the morning.

He did so without hesitation, allowing his face to soften so he didn’t look as stoic as he had when he was addressing Carlos.

You smiled at him in gratitude before returning your gaze to the work you had been previously doing.

“Puppy dog,” This time, when Carlos whispered in a sing-song voice, Charles only allowed his smile to widen.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Here,” Charles’s voice was a soft murmur as he all but materialized beside you.

You glanced to his face then to the flute of champagne in his outstretched hand and took it eagerly, imminently taking a generous sip, “Was it that obvious that I needed it?”

He smiled softly, eyes trained on you as you scanned the crowded room of the charity event that the company had all of the current formula one drivers at currently, “I could sense it.”

It wasn’t any secret that this was one of the most important- and therefore stressful- nights of the season so far for you. Not only were you responsible for making sure that Leclerc looked good in the eyes of the public, but your bosses had enlisted in your help with doing the same for all of the other nineteen drivers.

Apparently you had done such an excellent job with Charles that they wanted to place you in charge of this night. You were never one to turn down new opportunities, no matter how much stress you knew it would bring.

Charles, bless him, had remained by your side for almost the entirety of the night so far, remaining like an anchor to your sanity.

From replacing Lando’s drinks with water to having to pull Daniel away from jumping onto a table, the man had helped you with every task without question nor complaint.

“You’ve been such a big help tonight,” You met the drivers gaze, your eyes wide and full of complete gratitude, “Thank you so much for all of this.”

He waved you off, “I don’t mind,” He told you honestly.

A sigh left your lips, “But you should be enjoying yourself-“

“I am.” Charles insisted earnestly, “This is fun.”

You laughed, “Fun?”

“Fun.” He echoed, subconsciously, moving a strand of hair that had fallen into your face without even thinking about it.

Your smile softened as you looked up at him, something flickering in his eyes so fast that you almost missed it. What it was, you didn’t know.

“Thank you,” You spoke again, your voice soft and full of emotion.

Charles just smiled, never once tearing his eyes away from your face.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“What’s all of this?” Your lips were parted as you spun in place to look around the room, eyes wide.

“Happy birthday!” Carlos cheered excitedly, bounding across the room full of the Ferrari team until he was right in front of you, sweeping you up into his arms in a bone crushing embrace.

“You did all of this?” You gawked up at him when he finally set you down.

“I helped,” He admitted before a large, cheesy grin overtook his features and he waggled his eyebrows up and down, “You’ll never guess who set this all up, though.” His voice was light and teasing.

Your heart swelled in your chest, “Charles,”

As if summoned by the sound of his name falling softly off of your lips, he appeared from within the crowd of red and yellow, joy alight on his features.

“Happy birthday,” He whispered softly as he came to stand by your side, ignoring the smirk Carlos sent him as he slipped away, giving you two some privacy.

The beam that he was met with was as bright as the sun, “Thank you, for all of this. Seriously.”

“There’s no need to thank me.” He smiled, “You do so much for me, this is the least I can do.”

Without thinking much of it, you pushed yourself onto your toes and left a lingering kiss on the man’s cheek, not even noticing his face go red nor his eyes go wide.

“Well, thank you anyway.” You spoke softly when you lowered yourself back to the ground.

“Who wants cake?” Landos voice boomed through the small room, interrupting Charles right as he opened his mouth to say something.

You joined everyone else in your cheers of response, excitedly taking Leclerc's hand in yours and pulling him towards the dessert table.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“I’m so proud of you,” You lolled your head to the side as you spoke, voice full of nothing but complete confidence and honesty.

Charles shook his head softly from the cushions beside you, “I didn’t get pole position.” Defeat crept into his tone.

“No,” You admitted, “But you got p2. Which is pretty damn close.”

“I-“ He opens his mouth to argue more.

You cut him off by firmly grabbing his hand in your own, angling your body to face him, “None of that.” You spoke strictly, catching onto his gaze being locked in your intertwined hands, “You raced amazing and did the absolute best you could.” You squeezed his hand, “I’m proud of you.”

His eyes flickered up to yours, staring into them for a moment as the briefest look of hesitation overcame his features.

Before you could even begin to question it, however, the man seemed to take a quick breath to muster confidence, before leaning in and connecting his lips with yours.

Your eyes widened briefly- for no more than a split second- and just as he went to pull away, you dove forward, capturing his lips in yours once more.

Before the kiss could deepen too much, you both pulled away slightly to catch your breaths, “I’ve been waiting a very long time to do that.” Charles admitted breathlessly.

You grinned up at him in response, “I’m glad you finally did it.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n

[quillyfied]

There being two movies now in the Benoit Blanc world, and both movies sharing some recognizable tropes and archetypes to build its flavor, there’s a specific type of character that I’m struck by, particularly as a white woman, in both Knives Out and Glass Onion:

The Sympathetic White Woman.

In KO it’s Meg. In GO it’s Whiskey. They both bond with the (WOC, very important to emphasize) protagonist by being less crappy to her than the rest of the cast, and both signal to the audience that they’re trustworthy as far as the protagonist goes. They tell the protagonist that they’re on her side. They try to be supportive. They’re sympathetic to the audience.

Then comes the moment when the Sympathetic White Woman’s security is threatened.

(Brief added interruption to just say: please dig through the notes and replies on this baby for some additional excellent thoughts from other people, including the very important distinction that Marta is a white Latina and not a woman of color (my mistake thank you for the corrections), and more thoughts on Whiskey’s actual/additional betrayal moments!)

For Meg, it’s her mom telling her she has to drop out of school if they don’t get the inheritance money. For Whiskey, it’s Duke dying. In both cases, the protagonist reaches out—Marta tells Meg she won’t let that happen, she’ll support Meg with whatever money she needs; Helen tries to soothe a hysteric Whiskey by telling her she doesn’t need Duke and he deserved what he got (not realizing Duke is dead, of course). It’s a slightly different moment in each movie, but the basic framework is the same: the woman of color protagonist reaches back to the Sympathetic White Woman, and notably, reaches DOWN, offering the support the Sympathetic White Woman offered earlier.

Only…the Sympathetic White Woman was never intending to be the one the protagonist had to reach down to. So she snaps. Meg tells her family about Marta’s mother and they use it to threaten her. Whiskey latches onto the belief that Helen killed Duke and tries to kill her with a spear gun in what she thinks is self-defense. The Sympathetic White Woman Heel-Turn.

Meg and Whiskey both also sort of try to make amends after their Heel-Turn moments, but…the trust is already broken. The protagonist knows better now. The Sympathetic White Woman is not to be trusted.

Why this sticks out to me personally is the very obvious callout that feminists of color have been making about white feminists for literal decades: that white feminism lacks any true support or compassion for non-white people, that it’s empty promises of support and when the chips are down, white feminism upholds whiteness over feminism in an act to protect itself. And whiteness…is a damn difficult thing to even see when you’re white and raised in an overwhelmingly white community, let alone begin to pick apart and unlearn. It’s reactionary, how Meg and Whiskey turn on Marta and Helen to protect themselves.

It would make Meg incredibly vulnerable to support Marta fully, the way she promised to back when she thought she had the resources for it, but Marta is that vulnerable every day just existing as a Latina woman in America. Whiskey’s Heel-Turn moment is a little more immediate trauma based, but when looking for someone to blame, she doesn’t hesitate to blame Andi (Helen), scrapping together the few pieces of information she has—Andi hates all of the Disruptors, Andi got screwed over by them, Andi fought with Duke just minutes before he died, Andi was in their shared room tearing it apart when Whiskey came in distraught. She’s looking for an outlet. There’s Helen red-handed and in view. Boom. Whiskey grabs the spear gun instead of talking it out with the person she admitted just hours ago to feeling sympathy for.

Growing up white and steeped in whiteness causes defensive reactions when that whiteness is brought up, or, god forbid, challenged. It’s a knee-jerk thing for people who haven’t begun to deconstruct it for themselves; even for people who have, to see just how far and deep in American society that reaches is troubling. Humbling. Enraging. The Sympathetic White Woman archetype is, to me, a warning to not let whiteness overrule sense and morals. To be smart about it. And, crucially, to check myself for condescension, especially when interacting with non-white folks in any capacity.

(Also why the presence of Benoit Blanc is so important. He is also sympathetic, he also offers his own support, but crucially, he just uses his whiteness to clear a path for the WOC protagonist to take her place and do what she needs to do. He doesn’t speak over her, he doesn’t turn on her, he just listens, and presents the truth for her to do with it what she will. Or, in one case, hands her highly volatile crystal hydrogen for when she’s really ready to tear the Murderer’s crap down.)

#knives out #glass onion #major spoilers for both obviously #and hoping I got this post right with what I was trying to say #listen I shotgunned both movies for the first time in a span of two days #I am VIBRATING with good brain juice

[erwinsvow]

rafe’s the jealous type, though you had never seen it coming. he was your friend, just like topper and kelce, but somehow, it was never really like it was with the other two. you tried to ignore it for as long as you could, for the sake of the friendship, but it was getting to be too much.

you weren’t even his friend first. working as a summer intern for topper’s mom had led to a few chance encounters already with the boys when they’d drop by. it wasn’t until his mom insisted he take you along that you got to know them a little bit more. you were surprised at how well the four of you got along, even though rafe seemed opposed to you tagging along at first.

but you think you’d won him over in the next few weeks, and now months later, you could easily argue that you were the closest with rafe now. it was pretty apparent—he drove you everywhere, picked you up first and let you have permanent shotgun. when you need to crash after the party runs late, you always end up back at tannyhill, topper and kelce passed out on the couch downstairs or the floor of the guest room, always leaving the bed empty since they think you’ll be crawling in—though you never do. no, you’re asleep next to rafe on his bed, tangled limbs and sheets, waking up wondering if cuddling with your best friend was normal for everyone.

but you’ve never really had guy friends, so you ignore some of the warning signs. you think they’re overprotective, overcaring. you shove aside the thought creeping up, reminding you that only rafe acts like that towards you. you’ve convinced yourself it’s normal.

you’re always invited to tee time—though you mostly sit in the cart with your legs resting on the dash, reading your book and daydrinking. you think the outfits are cute, tiny golf skirts and matching caps, and it gave you an excuse to take the boys shopping—your favorite activity. 

rafe steps away to take a call and comes back to find you on the course, hands slowly trying out a nine-iron while kelce stands behind you, trying to guide your position. 

“no, plant your feet. firm, and then when you swing, twist like this-” it only takes another second, kelce’s hands barely settling on your waist to help you move, when rafe snaps.

“you’re shit at golf anyways, kelce, why’re you showin’ her?” you’re a little taken aback that he’s being so mean, but kelce just rolls his eyes, walking over to top while rafe heads to you. 

rafe doesn’t hesitate at all, doesn’t try to be polite and not creepy like kelce was. his hands go straight on your waist, lower to your hips. he presses himself right behind you, taking your hands in his to help you swing. with his help, you actually hit the golf ball this time, sending it flying in the distance. you squeal, jumping up and down and hugging rafe. you don’t catch the way kelce and topper exchange a look.

other days it’s a little more confusing. you think rafe just changes his mind a lot. 

you pack enough lunch for an army—which is just a necessity with the way these boys eat. topper’s just gotten some new fancy boat, and sarah’s busy so he invites you and kelce to take it for a spin instead. 

“rafe’s not coming?” you question on the phone, looking at the strawberries and peaches you’d cut up specially for him. you don’t know why you feel so disappointed—top says he’s busy with his dad, which is more important. your mood dampens up a little but picks up soon—you love spending time with kelce and topper anyways! you think you’re single-handedly fixing tops’s relationship with sarah and turning kelce into boyfriend material for this girl he’s had a crush on forever.

at the marina, you walk around looking for this new boat, the words top had used to describe it meaning little to you. you’re a little dolled up already, a pretty white coverup hiding a yellow bikini, a new one you’d just gotten. actually, rafe had bought it for you. he said he wanted you to have it.

“what you lookin’ for, kid?” you hear a familiar voice call out from behind you. you turn to see rafe, stepping off the druthers onto the dock with you.

“i thought top said you’re busy?” you ask, looking around.

“i am. what’re you doin’ here?”

“top said he’s bringing his new boat out. i’m supposed to meet kelce and him here but i can’t find it, wake, uh, something. i packed lunch,” you finish, holding up the picnic basket. “but i know he said you can’t come, such a bummer-”

“i’m comin’.” 

“huh? he just told me-” “i’m takin’ the druthers out. c’mon, hop on. i bet those idiots sunk that thing already.”

you end up spending the whole day on boat with rafe—reading your book and eating slices of peach while talking to rafe about everything under the sun. top and kelce blow up your phone but you don’t even see it until you pick it up to take a picture of the sunset.

you finally realize something’s going on at the house party at kelce’s. rafe picks you up and you play with the skinny straps of your dress, wondering how to tell him what you’re thinking. he’s a good friend though—he always knows when you get like this.

“spit it out, kid. what?”

“well, i was thinking maybe i should crash at kelce’s tonight.”

“why?” he questions, like it’s the stupidest thing in the world. you don’t catch the way his grip tightens on the wheel. 

“well, last night.. everyone was saying it’s weird that i always crash at yours. and kelce always offers, he’s got that pull out bed-”

“y’not sleepin’ at kelce’s. or top’s.”

“why not?”

“‘cause i said so. don’t ask again.” and though you’re used to getting your way, you listen. at the party once you get a few drinks in you, you find your way back to the sofa where rafe’s exchanging packets of white powder for cash. you end up next to him, legs splayed over his and dress riding up, watching kelce and topper play pong with some people you don’t recognize. 

“m’tired,” you mumble, playing with your empty red solo cup. only rafe hears you.

“shouldn’t have drank so much so fast. what’s wrong with you, hm?”

“just tryna feel better.. and you won’t let me try coke so-”

“shut up about the coke. not gettin’ anywhere near the stuff.”

“you let kelce and top do it-”

“you’re not kelce and top. how much clearer do i have to make it?” your eyes fill with tears—you’re trying so hard to not be such a girl, but everyone has their limits.

“well, you’re not my boyfriend, so i don’t have to listen to you-” it comes out louder, getting the attention of your friends. kelce and topper exchange a look, wondering if what they’ve been waiting for is about to happen. you don’t want them to see you cry, so you run off into the opposite direction towards kelce’s empty room.

“nice going, rafe.”

“yeah, man, she’s definitely gonna fall in love with you after that.”

“shut up.” 

rafe follows you, knows where you went. he knocks on the door, twisting the handle even before you get a chance to respond. 

“go away, rafe.” you sit on kelce’s bed, staring down at your shoes. rafe come and crouches near you, putting his hands on your knees to keep you firmly in place, even though you try to pull away.

“hey, c’mon, kid. m’sorry. there, you happy now?”

“you’re a dick. leave me alone-”

“i’m fuckin’ trying, here, okay-” you stand up, pushing him away. “trying to do what? make our friendship all weird? mission-fucking-accomplished, because i can tell you don’t want me around, so i’m-” you get interrupted, rafe rushing up to you and forcing you into a kiss. his arms tighten around your waist, holding you hard. you melt into his touch, kissing him back. things are making more sense now.

“and watch your mouth with me.”

“shut up. you don’t know anything.” you lean back for another kiss.

“guys,” kelce yells out from outside the door. “please do not have sex on my bed.”

#ummmm i love this lol #kook trio reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

[blue-mood-blue]

I’ve grown to appreciate the aus where Shen Yuan enters the story as “Shen Yuan” - same name, probably similar face, generally able to interact with PIDW as himself and change the story through his added presence. I like the sense of “if only you’d been here, things might have been better the first time around” of it all.

And I was thinking, it’s a funny coincidence in that scenario that someone named Shen Yuan gets put into… another Shen Yuan. What are the chances? What a weird twist of fate that Airplane would pick out the name that his most dedicated critic could slip into seamlessly.

What about a version where it’s not coincidence at all?

Airplane goes to school with a kid named Shen Yuan. He’s prickly and hard to approach and a little intense, but Airplane is persistent. In fairness, Airplane is relentless - and maybe it’s a good thing that they end up being friends, because they’re a little too much for anyone else to handle. They balance each other out. They’re the “weird kids” in class and they’re okay with that, because even when they don’t have any words for it, they know they’re not like their classmates, not really. That’s okay; they don’t want to be.

Recesses and breaks are consumed with the elaborate stories that Airplane wants to tell, and all the holes Shen Yuan pokes into them. It’s not mean-spirited, though, even though Shen Yuan isn’t the kind to temper his words. It’s passionate. He cares about those stories the way Airplane cares about them, and it can’t be mistaken for anything else when they lean together conspiratorially across the lunchroom table. They’ve both got notebooks filled with details and characters and monsters. Shen Yuan’s practically got a whole bestiary sketched out in wobbly childhood attempts at art, entries fervently scrawled beside them. Airplane prattles out plots nonstop, always with the promise of shining eyes and being asked “what happens next?”

They come up with a whole world together. Airplane’s going to write about it someday. Shen Yuan is going to read every word.

Shen Yuan misses school. Shen Yuan starts missing school a lot.

Airplane goes to the hospital room instead. He doesn’t think to worry, because Shen Yuan is okay - that’s what he says. He looks okay, and he’s a kid, and it doesn’t feel real that anything bad should happen to a kid. He doesn’t think to worry. He doesn’t think to say goodbye.

It’s one of the older Shen brothers who catches him on the way up to the room one day, in the hallway just outside - snaps at him to go the fuck home, and when Airplane hesitates, pushes him into the elevator and tells him not to come back. “Tells” is a generous way to describe the way the words come out - a growl, a hiss, the sound an animal would make when a hand got too close to a wound.

(It’s not fair to name a villain after him, even if the name never really comes up in the story. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He’d lost a brother minutes before, and he was getting his brother’s friend out of the way so he didn’t have to… see. It isn’t fair, but then, none of it is fair.)

Death feels very real after that.

The notebooks get shoved into a closet, and it’s not until Airplane’s moving out and one falls on him from a high shelf that he thinks about it again. He’s written things, lots of things, but nothing as ambitious as this - nothing as important. It could be good, he considers. He’d promised. Shen Yuan wanted to read it.

The problem was that no one else does, not for a long time, not until Airplane has whittled himself and his art into a corner and into such an unfamiliar shape that he has to wonder how it’s still his own face he sees in the mirror. He has to eat. He has to pay rent. Shen Yuan would yell at him, but Shen Yuan isn’t there to yell at him, and who cares. Who cares if it could have been better? The people who actually are here love it, and it’s paying his bills, and sometimes stories don’t go the way they’re supposed to and the world is fucking unfair. It doesn’t matter.

(It does. But he shoves that thought away along with styrofoam cups and soda bottles to the bottom of a garbage bag.)

Authors are not gods and their power is limited, but Airplane exercises just a sliver of what he’s been granted and gifts an inconsequential sort of immortality. He thinks about making him a rogue cultivator, maybe the kind that goes around documenting beasts and compiling his findings. He thinks about making him someone too powerful for death to touch, or too important to threaten, but when Airplane looks at the world he crafted and everything that’s become of it, it feels like the kindest thing he can do for Shen Yuan is a childhood where he’s loved, and a death that’s peaceful. What does it say about that world, that he’d kill off his best friend too early again instead of making him live there?

(The best writing he ever does is the only, shining moment of humanity that his scum villain ever displays: a lament about death that comes too early, about a brother gone too soon. The commenters praise him. The commenters flatter over how real the emotions feel. The commenters don’t get any response from Airplane on that chapter.)

Death is incredibly real when it comes for him too early, too, still hovering over his keyboard with the story technically finished and incredibly incomplete. Airplane could tell himself that’s because the written version can never be the version in the writer’s head, always shifting and with every possibility still on the table, but he knows better than that. The System knows better than that, with its condescending message about “improving” his writing and “closing plot holes” and “achieving his original vision”...

…and he’s a child again. He’s a child in his own story, he’s Shang Qinghua now without the benefit yet of a peak or cultivation or anything, and maybe he’s a little bitter, and a little scared, and…

And Shen Yuan - with longer hair, with robes, with a couple of older kids watching him from across the street, but undeniably the prickly little boy who used to sit down imperiously across from him and tell him everything that was wrong with the chuck of writing that had been handed to him last period, but with that smile that said he was only invested because he knew it could be better and they were going to make it better - marches up to him with a fire in his eyes and a frown that warns of a coming tirade.

“You told it wrong,” is the first thing he says.

Shang Qinghua wants to ask how him how he’s here, how this is possible, or maybe laugh because, yeah - yeah, Shen Yuan has no goddamn idea how wrong he got absolutely everything.

(Shang Qinghua wants to say “I missed you” and “why did you leave so soon” but he’s here now. He’s right here.)

“I know,” he says instead. “I’m sorry. It all kind of… spiraled out of control.”

Shen Yuan frowns, but then it dissipates the way it always does, and his eyes shine with ideas the way they always used to. “That’s okay,” he relents, grabbing for his hand. “We’ll fix it. We’ll make it what it was supposed to be.”

#scum villain self saving system #svsss #shang qinghua #shen yuan #airplane shooting towards the sky #this got more into the feelings than i thought it would #surprising no one #anyway just! childhood friends au! as a reason for a shen yuan insert! #obviously he is not going to die as a child in this version #shang qinghua would not have that nope not again #also pls consider poor shen jiu who looks at this child that shen yuan has picked out for a best friend like '...really? that one??' #(it's up to you if he's shen yuan's actual brother from his first life) #(put there's a part of me that likes the idea that shen jiu also gets a second chance to spend more time with his brother) #a second chance for them to grow up together! #THAT SAID #RIP TO SHANG QINGHUA #WHEN SHEN YUAN IS OLD ENOUGH TO LEARN ABOUT ALL THE PAPAPA #the LOOKS shang qinghua is going to get #anyway here have a thing because I CANNOT add another au to my drafts thank you and goodbyyyyye

[cherry-leclerc]

all i ever asked ☆ cl16

genre: tiny bit of childhood fluff, angst, childhood bestiesss, yearning

word count: 1.1k

There can only be room for two individuals on Valentine’s Day.

cherry here!... quick req, but my gift to you - HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY :)

inspired by this !

Forever and more, Charles promises as he wraps the flower ring he just made for you around your finger. That’s how long I’ll love for because I’m going to marry you when we grow older. Just you wait and see.

That’s impossible, you retort. We’re only 6. Years from now you’re going to forget all about me. Like that time you forgot my Valentine’s Day card!

He gasps sarcastically, shoulders drooping. 

It’ll be different. Pinky swear. 

-

They’ve all told you the exact same thing: You need to learn how to get to places on time. Especially if it’s something important.

Like the time you left buying Lando’s birthday cake for the last minute and showed up two hours late. Or when you promised George you would fix up a romantic setting for him and Carmen for their third year anniversary. 

And somehow, Charles was always there with you. He was the one who called the bakery as you pressed on the gas, dirty curses ringing through the air. He was the one who woke up at the rise of dawn to help you buy roses and champagne. It was just always him.

Which is why you could never - ever - make him wait.

“Wine?” the waitress politely offers as you nod. “It might help with the nerves, no?” 

You smile sheepishly. “Is it that obvious?” 

The girl shrugs with a sweet giggle. “We’re all a bit jittery on Valentine’s Day, but hopefully your significant other shows up soon, if not someone else will slide in and try to impress you.”

“Oh,” you laugh anxiously. “No, I…I don’t think so.” As soon as she leaves, the Monegasque rushes in, panting as if he just ran a 5k. You’re here? You wince. “I was able to get out early. Happy Valentine's Day by the way.”

A lopsided grin stretches across his lips. “Happy Valentine's Day.” A second ticks by before he abruptly hands you a red box. “I hope you like it.”

“Is it a mud cake?”

“First of all, I was 8. Second of all, I have a feeling this might be a whole lot better.”

Giddy with excitement, you rip the wrapping paper as his knee jerks up and down with anticipation. Shining back at you is a stunning gold bracelet, dainty - just the way you like it. He knows that. What’s wrong? Blinking rapidly, you shake your head as you snap the box shut. “Nothing.” Green eyes connect to yours. “I love it.”

With slight hesitance, he takes a sip of the red wine. “I knew you would.”

You don’t really remember when flower rings turned into high end jewelry. You don’t really remember when he stopped showing up, suddenly busy. The blossom rings were never the neatest, but you loved them as if they were. It proved to you that he spent time carving something simply because he wanted to. The gems only told you he walked into a store and picked the first one that caught his eye. 

“Since we’re already here…”

Your stomach drops, butterflies exploring your insides. This was it. This was the moment you saw coming from the moment he met her. His lips are moving but you’re not there. You feel pathetic when you feel yourself nodding along like an idiot. Why? Where did all his promises lie now? 

She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, he swooned as Pierre chuckled. It just makes sense. She makes me feel things I never knew existed. I’m going to get married to her, you’ll see.

“Charlotte-”

It’s as if someone punched you, leaving you like a wounded deer. His face pales - you’ve never been the kind to be able to hide your disappointment. He just never thought it would ever be aimed towards him.

“You know she loves you, right?” he questions eagerly as tears fill up your round eyes. What’s the purpose of you telling me that? The Monegasque winces. “But things have been getting out of control. You’ve seen the tabloids. They’re calling me a cheater. Fuck. They’re probably going to run with this meet up.”

You flinch. “You called me.”

“I know, I know I did, but I had to see you. This has always been our day.” A wet sob escapes past your puffy lips, hand immediately going in to muffle them. Even after everything, his reputation was always your priority. Red rimmed eyes check to see if anyone’s noticed as you tug your brows with a hurt look.

“Used to be.”

Charles stiffens, but continues nonetheless. “She suggested we stop seeing each other. Only for a while until everything dies down.” He tries to reach across the table towards you but you only scoot back further. You loved him - you always would. Which is what made things worse because you knew what he saw was a temporary thing, you viewed a formal goodbye. 

“Is this what you want?” you whisper meekly, shaky hands clutching onto the red box. He exhales.

“Charlotte is who I want.”

It was obvious from the beginning, but you foolishly dreamt about the unobtainable. You would’ve given it all up. You’d be the last one to let go of the rope if that meant he’d stay a part of your daily life. The one that needed him in it. 

The brunette looks away. “She’s my wife. I have to do this for her.” A beat. “But you’re my best friend. No one could ever change that.”

Everything felt like a fleeting moment when it came to him. His words held onto their end until he decided it wasn’t convenient enough anymore. It only would have been so much longer until he really hit you with the harsh reality - all good things must come to an end.

But you just couldn’t find the strength to hate him, even after everything. You hated that he was the only man you could ever picture loving because it was just so easy to do. 

“I have feelings, too, Charles.” His eyes narrow, staggered breath hitching. “It’s my fault.”

“No.” Large hands press against his lap as he taps anxiously. “Don’t ever think like that.”

With a sad whimper, you finally let yourself reach for his hand as he rapidly does the same. “You were so sweet when we were kids.” A wet laugh makes him lighten up. “But we’re not kids anymore and your sweetness belongs to someone else now.”

He could feel you slipping away and he doesn’t know why he’s surprised. He should’ve persisted with Charlotte to not be so cruel, to understand that you were a large factor of his life. How could you not be? You always traveled with him for karting, even if that just got you in deep trouble with your parents. You were the first to congratulate him when he got his F1 seat, something he had worked so hard for. Rosy lips form a thin line before curling into a forced smile.

“And I’ve accepted it.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #scuderia ferrari #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc x female oc #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc

[peachesofteal]

soap x cypher masterlist / 18+ mdni / dark and twisty themes overall but this is very soft / inspired by and written for @eilidh-eternal

Johnny is fuming.

You've skipped his lab. Not only have you skipped his lab, but you didn't even let him know. Where are you? He hasn’t even see you in days, getting in late from an op last night, collapsing into bed exhausted. All he wanted was to see your face this morning, peering at him from between the sea of students.

"Sir?"

"What?" He snaps, temper flaring, irritation running hot. The student, a transfer bomb tech from another unit, gulps. Get yerself together, he seethes. Ye're acting like a bloody fool. The tech voices a question, a complicated technical one, but easy to answer, and he rattles off a response before excusing everyone for the day.

He has more important things that need his attention.

He goes back and forth on punishment as he stalks over to the tech building. Overstimulation? Should he tie you to his bed and strap the head of a vibrator to your clit until you're crying? Denial? Humiliation? Should he shave your cunt, and then eat you out for hours, not letting you come once? Should he spank you until your ass is raw and you can't sit for a week?

Anger turns to worry when he steps onto your floor, and doesn't find you. You're not at your console. You're not in the bathrooms, or the break room. You're not anywhere.

He marches to Laswell's office, knocking twice before pushing the door wide, to her surprise.

"Soap?"

"Cypher not in today?" He skips the pleasantries, and she gives him a knowing look.

'She's out sick." Sick? You're sick? His mind is already scrambling, and he barely hears her parting words as he makes for the door, anger draining from his body and being replaced with worry, fear. Why didn't you tell him?

He gets his answer easily enough when you answer his incessant knocking with both wrists in braces, KT tape stretched from the back of your hands to your knuckles. Your face is twisted up, brow furrowed, and he immediately steps forward, hesitant to touch you, but yearning to provide you comfort, to help. To fix.

“Oh, Cy.” He murmurs and you look down to your feet.

“‘m sorry I missed class, I couldn’t… I can’t type, or pick anything up, so-“

“It’s okay. Let’s not worry about that now.” He herds you gently, turning you back into your room, relaxing as he feels you lean into him, one of his hands cradling yours carefully. “Carpal tunnel?” He knows all about it, of course. He has your medical file memorized. Knows about the flare ups that are really bad, knows you’re a perfect candidate for surgery, even though from the looks of it, you’re avoiding that option. He always thought he’d cross that bridge when he came to it, getting you to have the procedures scheduled, but it seems like that bridge is coming up now.

“It’s bad.” You croak. You can’t even work the door handle, trying in vain to flex your fingers, his heart sinking at the agony on your face, when you start to crumple, tears starting in the corners of your eyes.

“Shhh, I’m here, I’m here, wee sweet.” His arms wrap around you, holding you there for a second, rubbing your back, your shoulders, trying to reassure you. “I’ll take care of ye.” He promises, shutting the door with a firm click, and leading you over to your bed, encouraging you to sit, keeping his touch as gentle as he can, as to not jostle you or your hands. “What do ye need?” He smooths a hand over your hair, and you sigh.

“Something to eat.” Oh, sweet Cy. How long have ye felt like this? This is his fault. He should have been here last night. “And some ice, maybe?”

“Have ye taken anything?” He’s already pulling out his phone, shooting a text out to cash in on a favor owed to him by another Sergeant, essentially using them as a delivery service for your needs. “What sounds good to eat?”

“I don’t know, I can’t pick up-“

“I’ll take care of that.” He’s unmoored by your suffering, but a select piece of him is secretly delighted he’ll get to feed you, wash your hair, help you with your clothes, take care of all your needs. His mouth practically waters. You chew on your lip, wincing as you shift and he moves with you, encouraging you to lay down your back, tired eyes blinking up at the ceiling. Poor baby, probably hasnae sleep a wink. “I’ll pick for ye, Cy.”

“Okay.” You whisper, eyes slipping closed. He leans, lips dotting across your forehead.

“I’ve got ye. Want the lights off?” You nod, and he gets up to flick them off, clicking on the little bedside lamp that has the yellow shade, the dim one that you like “Whit feels good for yer hands? Ice? Elevation?”

“Both.” He tacks ice onto the ‘to be delivered list’ and then grabs a pillow, tucking it into your side to place your one wrist on top, arranging your giant quilt on the other to do the same.

He fusses over you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure you’re content, propping you up on more pillows when everything is dropped at your door, and he stashes the ice in the freezer for after he feeds you.

“Got some soup.” He tells you sweetly, and you brighten a little.

“What kind?”

“Yer favorite. The cream of mushroom.” You smile at him and he holds you there, indulging in your sweet expression, until it starts to fade, drooping with realization. Confusion.

“Wait… how do you know it’s my favorite?”

#peaches writes #soap x cypher #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish

[chvnnie]

just some dad!skz thoughts for y’all

a little suggestive here and there, and because of that, MINORS DNI

bang chan - first daughter only

Definitely was the first to have a kid in the group. Spoiled is not a good enough word — his eldest daughter is like royalty in the group. If they know the baby is going to be around, somebody has something to give her.

Religiously watches hair tutorials (one screen has his mixing board, while the other is playing YouTube videos on loop) so he’s ready when she asks him to braid her hair. Has practice on you, Hyunjin, himself. They’re going to be perfect, because she deserves nothing less. The first braid is a little sloppy, but no one has the heart the tell him.

Travel crib folded up in his office, tucked behind the couch just in case. Everyone has used it.

If his little family goes on tour with them, or even just the local shows, he’ll make sure she has a set of headphones. Walks around to check mics with her in his arms.

It took him six weeks to find the perfect car seat for her. No, he’s not being picky. He’s being safe.

Keeps a mini diaper bag on him at all times. You’ll never catch him slacking.

When it comes to you, he’s the most devoted husband. Helps you postpartum, continually encourages to take days off. Reminds you daily how much he loves you, cherishes you, and always takes time to make you feel beautiful. (People sex after child is nearly impossible, but Chan is determined to make it possible.)

Very hesitant about co-sleeping until she’s old enough. Would even say he’s almost anti. But when she falls asleep on his bare chest, and the tv is playing at a low volume, and he’s just really, really tired. Your heart beams at the sight of them, matching expressions, snores coming from the both. You snap a bunch of pictures — it’s his favorite set.

lee minho

Protective? Please. Don’t offend him with that word — it’s not strong enough. If someone even breathes the wrong way in her direction, he’s ready to take measures to insure it will never happen again.

No. He won’t tell you what kind of measures.

He loves bath time. The little sink seat, the bubbles. When his daughter gets good motor skills, he loves the way she always reaches for the duck. Clutching it in her little fist, giggling with her father puts bubbles on its head.

Makes his own baby food. Why would he waste money on that canned stuff when he has fresh vegetables at home? Tsk. His blender is his best friend.

Has a whiteboard on the fridge with a list of what she likes (BIG YES for strawberries, or any berry mix, squash, sweet potatoes. HARD NO when it comes to bananas and anything green). Likes to introduce her early to foods, letting her explore.

Has taken Doongie out of her crib more than once. Caught her trying to feed Dori once. Always reaches for Soonie when she sees him past. Minho’s heart warms at his first babies loving on his new baby (even though she cried the first time Dori licked her cheek).

Daily family walks. It’s important to make sure she gets sunshine, and the fresh air is good for everyone. Always wants to push the stroller, but doesn’t complain when you reach for it.

Shower sex has become a habit, but he won’t complain about it. When you have a clingy baby, you take any opportunity you get. So pinning you the glass door happens more than it did before.

Fondly refers to you as “his girls”. It brings him so much pride that this is his family.

seo changbin — twins only

When the ultrasound showed two babies, he’s surprised he didn’t pass out. He got close though; the cold sweats, ringing in his ears, chills. Two babies? At once? Is it possible to be shaking with excitement but also absolute terror at the same time?

Your pregnancy wasn’t easy. The boys were heavy, and you found yourself on bed rest more often than not. Changbin wouldn’t tell you, but he was on edge the entire time. Seeing you so exhausted, so ready to get out of bed but unable to — he felt so useless. Even though he never left your side, making sure you had everything you could want and were as comfortable as possible, he hated himself for doing this to you.

And to top it all off, they were late. Of course they were. “They just love you so much, they don’t want to leave.” He tried to make you feel better, kissing your stomach, wiping your tears. Held your hand during the c-section, nose pressed to your forehead. Whispering every encouraging word he could think of to ease your fear, like he wasn’t drowning in his own.

When they finally arrive earth side? Oh, you both agree. It was all worth it.

They’re identical. The only difference are their eyes — one has yours, the other his. It was your idea to assign them colors (one is yellow, two is grey). Thank God for it too, because when they’re sleeping, he has no option but to guess.

Not a single second is taken for granted, but Changbin won’t lie and say the first year was his favorite. No, it’s when their personalities start to develop that he loved the most.

One really, really loves trucks. Is loud, runs through the apartment without a care. When he inevitably crashes into something, he bounces back up. Tiny feet carrying him away from the injury, like there isn’t a scrap on his forehead (isn’t a fan when Changbin chases him down to clean the wound).

Two prefers a quieter day. Sitting on the couch, eating yogurt bites as he watches his twin hit the wall. He’s low maintenance, most of the time, but when he gets upset? Oh, how the world is ending. Clings to Mama as he sobs. It’s so hard to be him.

Both, though, love musical instruments. Changbin’s favorite purchase (much to your dismay) is the tiny drum set he got them for their first birthday. One is a big fan of that, while Two stays on the toy piano. Their room filled with music all the time.

Has taken them to the studio a few times. Lets them watch as he and Chan work on songs, plays with Jisung when they’re getting a little rowdy. Eventually, they crash on the couch (along with Uncle Ji) before they can even record vocals.

Two is better than one. Whoever said that wasn’t lying.

hwang hyunjin — youngest daughter only

There’s no doubt. She is Hyunjin’s child.

Copy and paste. Down to the freckle under the eye, she literally looks just like him. Put their baby pictures side to side and have fun trying to figure out which is which.

She learned his scowl within the first year, when you tried to get her to try applesauce. The side eye was intense as she pushed the cup off her tray and called “Pup Pup” for Kkami to clean the mess.

Hyunjin thinks it’s hilarious. Until you give him the same side eye, then his lips are sealed.

For both children, he got custom made rings. Birth stone pressed into a thin gold band, engraved with their birth flowers. Both children have one just the same, but adjustable, so they don’t grow out of it. He wears hers on his right middle finger — and what mini Hyunjin sees, mini Hyunjin does.

Once, when she was still small enough to fit perfectly in a body carrier, her daycare was closed for the day. Water leak. Her brother was sick with the flu, and didn’t want you to leave his side. So Hyunjin took the youngest to work with him that day, completely forgetting that it was a dance practice day. Chan told him it was fine to push it a day, but they were already behind. Besides, the carrier is tight. One hand on her tiny body, he keeps her firm against his chest so she doesn’t bounce much.

After that, bringing her to practice became a habit. Especially after she started taking dance lessons.

What mini Hyunjin sees, mini Hyunjin does. Down to the movement of her feet, trying to keep up with even the most intense choreos.

When asked what she wants to be when she grows up, she always says Papa.

Bonus: you’re swimming in crafts. The two of them always up to something in Hyunjin’s home studio, painting and crafting the most beautiful art pieces you’ve ever been gifted.

han jisung

Oh. Oh, how do you begin to try to put a love like this into words?

Smothered. Smothered in kisses and snuggles all day long — and not just from him. Not to be biased or anything, but you’re both convinced she’s the best baby in the entire world. Look at those cheeks and try to convince you two otherwise.

Oh, you can’t.

And she’s the happiest little thing. Always giggling, so friendly, chatting up a storm with her babble. That baby doesn’t know a stranger; she’ll smile and wave at everyone.

Out of all the Kids’ kids, she’s at the company the most. Waltzing down the halls with her sippy like she owns the place, right behind her father. Naps on the practice room couch. Steals snacks from the cafeteria. Cut her a check, she’s put in some hard fucking work.

Speaking of naps — when Jisung is home, he’s always napping with her. When the clock strikes 12:45 in the afternoon, they’re both changing into nap time clothes and crawling in the giant bed. Soft music lulling them to sleep until his alarm goes off.

Has almost too many Quokkas. Which is ironic considering her skzoo bias is Leebit (Minho has been working on this since he was made aware of her existence, seeing his hard work pay off is delightful — until his daughter starts to grow a little too fond of her Quokka).

Mirror selfies. So. Many. Mirror selfies. He takes one monthly, saving them on his computer to document growth. Cries as he sorts through them every birthday.

She’s a heavy sleeper. Even as a newborn, she slept through the night with ease. Rarely does she wake up, and if she does, she can typically put herself back to sleep. Which is great, considering the second Bluey is off, so are your pants.

The dilf energy >>> something about becoming a father has made your husband even hotter. More intense in the bedroom, devoting time he doesn’t have to making sure you feel worshipped. Once he spent two hours between your legs — safe to say walking was difficult the next day.

Jisung desperately wants another baby. But that thought is always overpowered when she looks at him — why would you want more when she’s already perfect?

lee felix

House is literally never tidy. Organized chaos at best, but two kids under three make it impossible to keep up with chores. Felix tries — wakes up before you to wash the dishes, gets the majority of the mess cleaned before the little monsters wake up. But in a flash, it’s messy again.

Not that he minds. Or you. As long as the kids are happy and healthy, you can live with papers on the table or toys scattered across the house (except for that morning Felix tripped over one on the way downstairs. He’s doesn’t think that scar will ever fade).

Started prep on a Mother’s Day present MONTHS ago and is incredibly serious about it. The moment he has the kids alone, he’s scrambling. Color this, glue that, just like chill out for 30 second — he knows the paint is cold but the handprints are an essential part of this craft.

He’s had to redo the handprints seven times. But who’s counting?

It’s a recipe book, all the treats thought of by the oldest. Felix helped her write it, the youngest scribbled on some paper, and ta-da! Is it barely holding together? Sure, but you don’t care. Your heart is swelling, tears forming at the care that’s been put into it.

When you mentioned putting the kids in swim lessons, he was almost offended. “We bought this house specifically for the pool. No, I can teach them.” And, true to his word, as soon as the weather is warm, all three are out there daily. Sunscreen from head to toe, new freckles forming on all their faces. Sometimes you join them, but most of the time you just watch them fall deeper in love with each other.

Don’t ask me to explain this — but he SCREAMS airport dad.

Always there way too early, the oldest strapped to his back. Rushes your family through security — “How many times have we done this?” He’s gentle, but the annoyance is obvious to everyone but his daughter, who is grinning up at him. “Shoes off.” — stands in front of the giant screens with arrivals/departures. Hands on his hips, squinting slightly.

“Well it’s a good thing we didn’t book at 9:00 AM, aye, babe?” He shakes his head. “Definitely would have missed that one!”

Tracks the flight on his phone. Knows about delays before the pilots even do

at this point I’m just describing my own father

Is a PRO at soothing the baby on the plane. Standing out of the aisle, tucked in the back as he bounces him. Shushing him as he slides a pacifier in. Soothed and sleeping in under five minutes.

Honestly the most stereotypical dad of the group, and he fucking loves it.

kim seungmin

Last of the group to marry, last to have kids. By the time his son is born, Chan and Changbin already have three. Seungmin doesn’t really see the rush — good things take times.

And oh, is he the best thing.

The most organized nursery you’ve ever seen; all the baby hangers match, clothes sorted by season, then by color. Dresser drawers labeled so everything goes back where it belongs.

Prefers cloth diapers to disposable. Sure, the water bill is high, but do you know how long diapers take to breakdown? No thanks. Cloth works fine.

No, hand sanitizer doesn’t “do the same thing”. If you want to hold the baby, wash your damn hands. If he even lets you hold him. Fucking hand sanitizer, the audacity—

Every time he speaks to his son, he signs what he is saying. Getting him familiar with the hand motions, so when his motor skills develop, he can copy.

Has a good grip in sign language, and Korean, and English by age four.

But honestly, he doesn’t care about any of that. Good skills to have, but Seungmin is endlessly proud of his son. Found a smooth rock and gave it to him? Best gift ever. Messed up a word in Korean because he confused it with the English equivalent? That’s okay, it’s hard sometimes!

Everything his son does deserves to be recognized.

Lets him check his mic. Little fists wrapped around it, the five year old beaming as running over to Jisung’s daughter. Who is doing the exact same thing.

Intentionally involves him in every aspect of his life. Just because he has a time consuming job, doesn’t mean he’ll lose out on time with him.

Thinks you’re the reason the word milf exists. Because damn. Seungmin already found it hard to keep his hands off you, but something about watching you be a mom? Oof.

Literally could be just packing your son’s lunch after he’s gone to bed and he’s standing at the kitchen entrance. Wide eyes and mouth dry.

“What’s that look for?”

And then you’re bent over the counter with your panties stuffed in your mouth.

Kinda has a breeding kink now?

But, fuck, have you seen you? Can you blame him?

Never really thought he wanted more than one kid, but with you? Oh, he wants a million more.

yang jeongin

Goes without saying, but. Matching outfits.

Started with just shoes, but over time, the collection has grown. Sometimes they match on accident even — there’s so much crossover in their closets.

When you feel left out, Jeongin takes his son to pick out an outfit special for the three of you. Wraps it up, has the little boy excitedly wake you up with the present.

Speaking of present, this kid has the most elaborate birthday parties. Jeongin does NOT play around; planning starts about six months out, and even then it’s a rush to get everything ready.

Your son looks forward to it more than any other holiday. And can you blame him? When it seems like the entire world is celebrating him?

Since the party is big, the presents are modest. If he gets too many, they go in a special closet. He’ll get to open one a week, not wanting him to get too entitled when it comes to gifts.

Always, always wants to sleep in bed with the two of you.

He’s a little snuggle bug, getting right in between you and Jeongin, desperate to be close at times. Not that either of you mind, for the most part.

But damn, have you guys become skilled when it comes to quickies. In the shower, in the car before heading to pick up, in an empty practice room while Hyunjin teaches a mini dance camp to the Kids’ kids.

Probably the biggest airplane parent, but only when it comes to safety. He’s so worried about his son getting injured, sometimes he has to remind himself that it’s okay for kids to push boundary.

That doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t drop when he asks if he can sign up for soccer.

dad!skz really is my fucking weakness—

#skz fluff #stray kids fluff #dad!skz #stray kids thoughts #skz thoughts #bang chan fluff #chan fluff #lee know fluff #lee minho fluff #minho fluff #seo changbin fluff #changbin fluff #hwang hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fluff #han jisung fluff #han fluff #jisung fluff #lee felix fluff #felix fluff #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin fluff #i.n fluff #yang jeongin fluff #jeongin fluff #chvnnie soft thoughts

[mambalae-s]

sugar — geto suguru x reader

wc: 4.3k

cw: ceo! geto x employee! reader; unprotected sex; office sex; semi public sex; reader is described as a black woman; she’s not explicitly called chubby but she is described as plump; creampies; oral (reader) receiving; one instance of spitting; one instance of choking; mating press; a sir kink you dont have to squint too hard to find; not at all proof read; if i’m missing anything, please let me know!

notes from author: yeah, this went an entirely different direction than what i had planned… this is an nsfw post — if you’re under 18, PLEASE do not interact with this post. i will block you.

suguru’s certain you have no idea the kind of effect you have on him. he’s so entirely convinced that you’re oblivious to his struggle to merely contain himself with you sitting across his mahogany desk, dark stockings hugging your plump thighs and that short, a-lined skirt just barely sitting over your lap. you wear your hair like a regalia, beautiful, thinly done tresses of black braids half-tied at the back of your head where the rest flowed down each side of your body, the ends of them elegantly curling while you’d left two braids to frame both sides of your face — a style called french braids, he’d learned when he’d asked you curiously.

his mind is so far gone from words of acquisitions and business meetings that you read from your prepared document, eyes zoned in on your plump, full lips that glisten on strawberry flavoured gloss. he’s so distracted by the ‘o’s formed on your sweet voice, every sentence sinking themselves beneath his skin like drops of honey that rush through his veins and churns within his blood like a drug. he leans back into his chair, throwing his head back in unhidden frustration and releases a groan, and the sound of it snaps your attention from black printed words to look up at your ceo.

“sir?” you call him, hesitant. you cock your head to the side worriedly. “i’m sorry, is it not how you want to proceed?”

suguru shakes his head weakly, brushing his thumb over his lips. “no, no,” he assures you, “that’s not it at all. you’ve done great, in fact. it’s perfect.” he sees the way your brows furrow over your dark coloured eyes, the way your lips part on words you don’t let out, and suddenly, he feels too hot. “i’m sorry, ms. (l/n). it’s just especially hard for me to focus right now.”

“oh, i understand.” you utter, shifting to sit a little straighter in your chair. the action causes your breasts to shift beneath your low-cut blouse as you close your manilla folder. and suguru, he has to remind himself to breathe. “well, we do have some time before the board meeting if you’d rather we look over the details some other time?”

suguru hums in agreement as he stands, forcing his eyes off you and walking over to the left wall where he keeps a fine array of wines and expensive liquor. “yes, let’s do that then.” his hands reach for a bottle he knows you enjoy most out of his collection, an itallian imported masseto merlot. he reaches for two wine glasses and turns to you, offering you one to take. “how about we enjoy a drink for now?”

you rise from your seat to stand next to him, taking the cup from his hands. he wonders if you’d felt your fingers brush against his, if you’d perhaps done it intentionally to tease him. ah, but he knows you better than that — even now as you hold your cup out for him to fill, he knows that you’re far too shy to ever think of trying anything with him, your boss. you’re always the respectful and diligent worker, always and ever doing your best to meet his expectations and go beyond. he’d be lying if he tried to say he didn’t look forward to seeing you every day, or that he dreamt of doing unspeakable things to you right here inside his office. even standing this close to him, suguru feels his pants tighten at the uninhibited view he has of your plump figure, your breasts tempting him as he loses himself on your sweet scent of fresh linen and honey oats.

“is there something on your mind, sir?” unaware of the thoughts clouding his mind, you innocently flutter your eyes to peer up at him with your glossy lips pursed atop your glass. he watches you take a sip of the dark red liquid and thinks about it wetting your mouth, imagines the satisfied sigh as something far dirtier, unprofessional, and how you would sound with your legs folded against your chest. he imagines all the ways you’d cry out for him, to beg him for more until he turned you into a whiney mess.

“it’s just…” again, he clears his throat. he reaches one hand up to loosen his tie, showing off the expensive watch on his left wrist. “been a long week, that’s all.”

your lips form a sympathetic pout as you lower your glass to your chest, your forearms unconsciously squeezing your breasts together and, have mercy— how can you make the dirtiest things look so innocent? “i’m sorry, mr. geto,” you offer, “i’ll certainly try harder to make things a little easier for you… is there anything i can do for you?”

“oh, no, miss (l/n), you’ve already been such a great help to me—” he stops himself midway, his dark eyes turning thoughtful as he considers. the idea that pops into his head is an awful one, he gives himself second enough to consider. but, what is he supposed to do when you stand so close to him, eyes innocently looking up at him, your very breath hanging onto his words? here you are right in front of him, so open and willing to help him, and perhaps— no, not just. suguru’s certain you don’t mean your words in the way that he thinks, but the very sight of you, the thoughts he has of you late at night and even now, it overwhelms him and tells him to cast aside all logic and give in to viscous wanting.

suguru quietly draws a breath, sets his glass down atop his desk and bites the bullet.

“well… there is something you could do for me.” one, two, it only takes him three short steps until he’s standing right in front of you, close enough for the smell of your sweet, honey-scented oils to fully wrap around him and fill up his lungs. his figure basically shadows your much smaller frame, towering over you as your eyes nervously met his. he focuses on the way your brown lips hang open slightly, on the way your pretty eyebrows furrow over your expression. he focuses on the deep breaths you take that cause your chest to rise and swell, lets himself go on the slight squeak in your voice when you hesitantly call him.

“sir…?”

“what if, ms. (l/n),” suguru hums, reaching his hand to your own glass of wine, intentional when his fingers cover yours. “i told you that you’re what’s been distracting me all along?” like a hawk, he observes every flicker of thought that crosses your dark brown eyes. first, he watches them widen on surprise, then they waver back and forth before lowering to where he held your hand, the deep red colour of your merlot surely not what holds your attention. you’re flustered, he knows it by the way you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, but he’s not kind enough to let you hide that beautiful expression from him. slowly, as if not to scare you, he takes his fingers and holds on to your chin, tilting your head to where you had no choice but to meet his stare.

“i— i’m,” you pause, your lips trembling so deliciously, your breath ghosting against his skin like an autumn’s gentle breeze. “i’m not sure what you mean… mr, geto…”

“you aren’t?” suguru lowers his voice to a whisper. he imagines he could hear your heart thumping inside your chest, that he could feel your pulse racing underneath your skin, and he wants more of it, wants more of you. “let me show you exactly what i mean then, ms. (l/n).”

he tells himself to be gentle as he leans in, tilting your head up so that his lips meet yours finally, finally— and suguru nearly loses himself to the sensation of being swept off his feet. gods, you’re even sweeter than you’ve ever tasted inside his dreams, the living flesh and bone version of you kissing him back so softly as if you’d walked right out of his fantasies and come to find him at daylight. he can sense the hesitance behind your lips, an uncertainty weak to your own desires as you lean further into him. your hands reach for his chest and you pull away with a breathlessness, gasping as you look up at him, showing to him your worries, your fear, your mutual want.

“mr. geto, we shouldn’t do something like this here,” you whisper as if afraid your words would be heard by someone passing by. though suguru could tell that, if he pushed, you wouldn’t be able to resist. your fingers feebly grasp at his arms, bunching up the white fabric covering his biceps and, oh— you pull him closer, yet not close enough to close the gap. he looks at you and sees it then, in the way your lips pout up at him, that—

“you want this too, don’t you?”

he touches a hand to your cheek and feels heat radiating from you in waves. pulling you closer, he brings that hand to cup the back of your neck and revel in the feel of you being so close to him, your chest so soft against his as his other hand falls to squeeze your hip. gently, he tilts your head to one side to expose your neck and he lets himself be greedy, leaning to drag his nose against your bare skin, lips just slightly parted so that you could feel his warm breath ghosting against your cheek.

your knees nearly buckle beneath your weight and you have to squeeze on to his biceps even tighter, for fear that you would collapse if you don’t hold on tight. “y-yes…” you quietly gasp once he finally presses his lips to your skin. the feeling of him harshly sucking your neck is enough to cause your head to spin, for your legs to clench together at the new heat that pools in your panties. you feel him begin to press forward, and as you step back, he chases you, pushing you until the back of your thighs hit his desk. the sensation of cold wood is stark against the waves of searing heat that pours from the both of you and you stumble for a moment, accidentally knocking his pristine ceo plaque to the red carpet below.

“then,” suguru’s voice sounds slurred. his words are heavy and he sees the way they weigh you down as his fingers skillfully pull the first buttons of your blouse. he takes in the picture of you with reverence and worship as greed swirls within his gut, tightens his pants and makes him forget anything that didn’t have to do with you. with one hand, he pushes you further until you’re sitting on top of his desk and leans in once more, ever more wanting to feel your lips on his. “don’t think about anything else right now. just focus on me, yeah?”

dazed, it’s all you can do to nod ‘yes’ as he slots himself between your open legs, his hands squeezing down on your hips and pulling you forward until his bulge presses right up against your core.

it’s hard hold himself back any further, and suguru abandons his inhibitions as he hungrily slots his mouth against yours, the kiss almost universes different than the last. where before, he’d been experimental, testing the waters almost and tasting you for the first time, he now devours your very soul like a man starved of water and you, his fountain found in a scorching desert. his lips are searing as they move, and he pours so much into you that it becomes too much and it burns so deliciously, filling you until whimpers slip out from you and your hands hungrily pull apart his buttons. his nails dig into your thighs as he bites down on your bottom lip and pulls before he begins to press kisses against your cheek, trailing wet, impatient lines of spit along your jaw.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” its almost a growl when he speaks, low and dangerous as he feels himself slipping further. his teeth sink into your dark skin and he sucks, hard, relishing in the moans that you reward him with. “how badly i wanted to have you till i couldn’t sleep at night.”

“s-sir wait,” you try to call him, struggling to find your words amidst the fog clouding your brain. he’s sucking your skin so much that you fear he’ll leave marks, yet your voice seems to only urge him to leave more. “not there, people will see— ngh!”

he doesn’t pull apart when he grinds his bulge against you, letting you feel just how big and hard he’d gotten for you. each move he makes sends you reeling, the pool between your legs enough to soak you right through your stockings as he rolls his hips into yours.

“focus,” suguru reprimands you, lowly growling into your neck. “all your attention on me right now. do you understand?”

when you take too long to respond, he pushes one hand around your neck and squeezes, causing you to squeal as he pulls your head back to face him. your mouth hangs open, gasps of air struggling to make it past his hands, his spit smeared all across your lips, cheek and neck with the beginnings of purple bite marks forming on your dark skin — you’re the perfect picture of a mess, your beautiful brown eyes glazed over by lust and desire, so far gone from your normally neat and put together appearance, and it’s all because of him.

“understand?” he bleeds the word slowly, and, feeble, you respond with a desperate nod of your head, barely managing to force out a ‘yes sir..!’ through his grip around your throat. you try to squeeze your legs around his waist, wanting to pull him closer, to feel his cock pressed against you once more, for any kind of friction, but one hand swiftly pries them wide apart as his fingers snake between them. startled, you try to squeeze them close, though your body quickly loses its strength when his slender digits press up against your dampened core.

god, you’re already so fucking wet, you’re dripping enough to leave dark coloured stains atop his wooden desk. suguru marvels at the feeling of your slick practically pooling along his fingers, coating them as he rubs slow, teasing circles over your clothed pussy. “look at that,” he says breathlessly before pulling his hands away to lick at them, and the taste of your essence causes his cock to twitch against their restraints. popping his fingers out of his mouth, he shoves them past your gaping lips for you to swirl your tongue around, a groan escapes him once you begin to suck and whimper around them. “fuck, (y/n), you’re making it hard for me to control myself.”

his thumb brushes against your lip and he pulls your mouth open, dizzy when you eagerly open your mouth for him to spit into. “such a dirty fucking slut, aren’t you?” he grins as you swallow with a moan, “yeah? never dreamed i’d see you do something like this, ms. (l/n). were you thinking about something like this everytime we spoke? hm?”

a sharp ripping sound startles you, though you hardly have the chance to regain your bearings as suguru finally touches you in the place you need him the most. your pussylips are basically sopping and so, incredibly swollen, your clit so eager for him to touch you when he presses his thumb against it. “f-fuck…!” you throw your head back, hissing and biting your bottom lip to contain your cries, all while suguru marvels at seeing you unravel. you’re completely under his control like this, a pretty little doll in the palm of his hands that he could toy and play with until your mind would crumble. the revelation blazes through him like a wildfire and swirls like a ferocious torrent — more, he wants — needs — you to break even more.

“i want an answer, (y/n). how badly did you want me to fuck you all this time?”

you try to respond, though your words fall apart on a weak, wavering cry of his name as he sinks two fingers inside you, feeling them split apart your walls before pulling back out slowly. he uses his knees to keep your legs from clamping shut while his free hand slips your bra up over your chest, letting your full mounds fall freely for him to squeeze. large, brown nipples perk up under the exposure of the cold air, pointy and sensitive beneath his thumb when he pinches one and softly twists. he groans, nearly panting, your pussy clamping down around his middle and ring fingers. “you’re so fucking tight, you’re just leaking and making such a mess. must’ve been waiting for me to fuck this pretty little cunt, huh?”

“nngh, sir..!” oh, those pretty little cries you make would be the end of him. he wants more, wants you to fall apart utterly and completely until your mind would be blank and you would be nothing but a blabbering mess. he wants to feel you, taste you, to devour you whole.

swiftly, he drops down to his knees and spread your legs wide open, one on each of his shoulder for him to see your messy cunt. he’s mesmerized at the view of you, sopping and dripping as your hole squelches around nothing, greedily begging for him to take it and make it his.

above him, you’re barely able to register his movements before you’re overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth hungrily sucking your pussy, and it catches you so off guard that you release a loud cry of his name. “suguru…!”

“shhhh. shhh, baby,” the man doesn’t stop for even a second, muttering the words right up against you and sending shockwaves through your core. desperate to keep your voice down, you clamp your hands over your mouth as you feel his tongue flicker against your swollen clit, back and forth before he begins sucking and lapping. your essence pools all over his tongue and suguru feels himself getting drunk, diving his tongue between your folds while his fingers drill in and out of your hole, filling the large office with sloppy, slurpy noises as he coaxes ever single drop he can out of you.

despite you trying, you fail to hold your voice back as the coil within your gut tightens and your vision grows spotty. his fingers repeatedly brush against that spot deep inside your cunt that makes you see stars and you can’t catch your breath. your moans turn into strangled cries as your legs clench around his head, and you can’t pay any mind to how tightly you’re squeezing him between your plump thighs as you grip his hair to pull him closer. “aah..! aghn! nnngh..! fuck, sir, i’m close…!” your hips begin to buck as you chase your end, desperate for your climax as he groans between your legs and sets a relentless pace with his tongue and hands. he focuses his mouth on your clit while his fingers stretch and fuck your cunt and you taste like honey, pouring into his mouth as he laps it all up and milks you for everything you could give him.

“cum for me, princess.” his muffled voice shoots through your core like lightening, and you feel that coil in your gut reaching its height. you’re almost there, you’re so close, you’re so fucking close— “make a mess all over daddy’s face, come on. thaaaat’s it, baby, gimme all of it… don’t hold back and fucking squirt for me.”

he curls his fingers inside you, and the coil snaps like a bullet shot right through you. your orgasm crashes into your body as every muscle inside you seizes, your cries and whimpers unrestrained and nearly deafening. tremours reck through your figure as suguru coaxes everything out of you with sweet praises, till you squirt all over his face and fingers and you collapse against his desk, sending several important documents and utensils clattering against the carpet.

“shit…!�� your eyes barely register suguru’s form hastily rushing to his feet, stumbling and lightheaded, his face and shirt absolutely drenched in your cum as his fingers unbuckle his belt. you see his cock spring out from his boxers when he pulls them down, and in your fucked out daze, you admire how pretty it looks. the pink tip smacks against his toned stomach, the length of it thick and twitching as he grips your thighs and he’s so fucking big. fuck, you start to panic, but your body’s far too weak for you to move quickly, barely able to lean up against your elbows while he folds your legs up against your chest — “wait, sir, not yet, i— haaah!”

your mind blanks, your vision shoots white as his cock bullies its way into your pussy, still sensitive from him eating you out before and a cry erupts out from your chest. above you, suguru’s expression contorts and he groans loudly as he sinks deeper into your cunt. your gummy walls clench down on him as if to keep him out, squeezing him so tightly that his knees nearly give out underneath him. “aaaahh, fuck, (y/n), your pussy feels so fucking good.”

he’s too impatient to give you time to adjust, you just feel so good clamping down on him the way you do and he pounds you, fucking into you relentlessly while you writhe and cry beneath him. “fuck!! sir—!! s-slow down— ahh! haah! ‘m still— still sensitive— ngaahh!”

“sorry, princess.” he huffs, folding your legs further down into your chest and pivoting his pelvis to reach inside you deeper, deeper until he pounds your cervix and you jolt as if you’d been shocked. you have to grab the edge of the desk to keep yourself from sliding from underneath him as he relentlessly fucks into you. “your pussy jus’ feels too good, fuck. ‘s like this pretty cunt was made jus’ for my cock.”

how perfect you look folded underneath him like this, breasts bouncing and tears pooling from your eyes as your body trembles and shakes from the overstimulation. how your hair messily flails underneath you, your clothes all bunched up and your stockings shredded and your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you senselessly wail, fuck, you look so damn hot. “i know you can take it princess,” he coons, stilling his hips as he pushes all the way inside you, pinning you down when you try to squirm. “c’mon, pretty girl…” slowly, he pulls out and slams back into you — once, twice, over and over, each time your walls tightening and squeezing ravenously. “you got this. you’re doing so good for me, soooo so good. you like how my cock feels inside baby? does it feel good fucking up your pretty little pussy?”

“yes…!” with teary eyes, you look up at him, your response short of senseless and incomprehensible as you choke out a sob through your pleasure. “yes, yes, yes, yes, sir, feels so fucking good!”

“shhh, shhh, i know baby,” suguru coos down at you, grinding slow, sweet circles against your core before picking up his pace. the sudden change catches you unprepared and you shout, hands flailing to his biceps and clawing into his skin as he caged your body beneath him. “you’ve been so good for me already, aah, can you gimme one more? cum one more time for me pretty baby, jus’ one more for me.”

as if at his command, you feel that familiar tension take hold of your body as he drills into your cunt, so sudden and without warning as it crashes over you. you squeal, babbling his name over and over as your pussy creams all over his cock, your gasps drawing little air as your orgasm tears through you and leaving you breathless.

“thaaaaat’s it, shit. just like that.” he praises you through stuttering breaths, cooing at you sweetly as you come dkw. from your high. you’re positively fucked out of your mind with tears falling freely from your eyes and drool smearing your cheeks, snd the sight of you like this beneath him, the feeling of your pussy milking around his cock, it’s enough to send him over the edge.

“fuck…!”

his body twitches as his cum spurts inside your pussy, warm and thick and so, so much of it comes out, painting your insides white. your chests heaving in unison, suguru finally collapses on top of your chest, and he’s just every bit of a mess as you are. both of you are absolutely spent of every drop, endorphins coursing through your veins as the adrenaline exists your systems. your eyes seek out his to find him already staring at you with a cheeky grin, your own face flushing with embarrassment while he presses butterfly kisses against your stomach.

“d-did, um…” it’s hard to get the words out, your lungs still very much fighting for air, but you cheekily grin at the man, your boss, kneeling between your legs, and dare to allow your hands to run through his disheveled hair. “was i… able to help?”

suguru weakly chuckles, and your heart flutters a bit at the sight of crinkles forming on his nose. “you did, (y/n).” smiling, he rises to his feet and leans down to kiss you, pressing a hand down on your tummy and pushing down. he feels you writhing beneath his palm as his cum leaks out of you. “trus’ me, ‘s just what i needed.”

© mambalae-s — rb’s + feedback are greatly appreciated!

#geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto x reader smut #geto suguru x reader smut #geto x y/n #jjk reader #jjk reader insert #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x black reader #geto suguru x black reader #aphrodite. #geto x black reader smut #olympia. #geto suguru x black reader smut #anime x black!reader

[greatooglymooglyyy]

hi i just want to say you do absolutely amazing work and i love it i was wondering if you could do a matt or chris one shot where the reader just hasn’t been doing well with stress and their anxiety acting up cause something really important to them is soon and they help comfort reader and take readers mind off of it till the day of. i have a theater performance next week and im really anxious about it and this would really help thank you and i hope you have a good day

I'll Look After You (Matthew Sturniolo)

contains: stressed out reader, mentions of anxiety and insecurity, fluff, kissing, bf!matt to the rescue, 1.k words

a/n: hi anon. i wanted to get to this request asap because i've definitely been there before. i hope this helps you even a little bit. i know you'll kill it. love uuuuu

“Could beauty, my lord, have better…Fuck! Line.” I say running my hand roughly through my hair in frustration.

It’s the night before my debut in Hamlet, a play I’ve been in love with since seventh grade, and somehow I’m managing to forget all of my lines. Even after all the weeks of rehearsals and notes, I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’m playing Ophelia. Well, I will be if I can get my shit together.

Matt sits at the table watching me intently as I pace back and forth in his kitchen. “I think you’re hitting a wall, baby. Maybe you should take a break.”

“I don’t have time for a break! Line.” I snap, pulling my bottom lip into my mouth and chewing nervously.

He narrows his eyes at my tone but continues to read. “Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?”

I repeat the line and he answers with Hamlet’s. We continue back and forth for a few lines before I stumble again. “You were not deceived.” I cringe, knowing the line is wrong before Matt speaks.

"I was the most deceived.” He corrects softly and I groan in defeat.

“God, I’m an idiot. This is all my fault! I was reading The Scottish Play before rehearsals today and now I’m cursed! I didn’t even say the damn thing out loud.” I gesture wildly at where the book sits open near Matt.

His face screws up in confusion. “What does Macbeth have to-”

“Matt! Are you crazy? Don’t tempt the witches!”

“Have you lost-” He takes a deep breath and regains composure. “Take a seat, baby.”

I begrudgingly drop down into the chair across from him, tapping my fingers restlessly on the table.

“What are you so afraid of?” Matt asks gently, nudging my foot under the table.

At the question, all my insecurities flood back up. I don’t know how to tell him that I’ve never thought of myself as a lead before. Don’t know how to make him understand how deeply I want to see whatever my director saw in me at auditions. So instead I try for something simpler. “What if I’m not good enough?”

“You are.” He answers without a second of hesitation.

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “You’re just saying that because you’re in love with me.”

“Give them five minutes of watching you on stage and everyone in that theater will be too.”

I want to believe him but how can that be true if I can’t even remember my lines? I drop my head down on the table, pressing my face to the cool wood and closing my eyes.

Matt reaches his hand across the table and smooths a thumb over my wrist. “C’mon. Take a drive with me.”

I look up at his kind smile, tears welling in my eyes. “No, Matt. I can do it. I can get past this block.”

He comes around the table and kneels beside the chair, turning me to face him. “I know.” He pulls me into his arms and places a kiss on the side of my head. “Come with me anyway.”

**************

We drive to In and Out and park in a random parking lot, listening to the quiet sound of drizzle hitting the van. Matt’s been unusually chatty since we headed out, feeling the silence I would usually take up while he nods along.

He starts to tell me what to do if I encounter different types of bears and I can’t help but laugh at his delivery.

When he’s finished, I sit back and stare out the window at the dark clouds. But when I feel Matt’s eyes on me, I turn back to meet his gaze. “What?”

He leans closer to me, his eyes soft and open. “I just want to know that you,” he starts, his tone straight out of a romance movie. “have some grease on your nose. You should probably get that off.”

I laugh and wipe my nose, flipping him off. “Oh, all of a sudden, you got jokes?”

We settle into a comfortable silence and Matt grabs his phone to pick a new song as Frank Ocean fades out. When I hear the beginning notes of my favorite The Fray song, I grin over at him.

“I thought you didn’t like them and think they sing in cursive?” I tease as he turns the song up a bit.

“I’ve reconsidered. Dance with me?”

“It’s raining! We’ll get soaked.”

“Dance with me anyway.”

I grin as I fling my door open and meet him at the front of the car. I lock my arms around his neck as he pulls me in by the waist.

🎶‘when i’m losing my control the city spins around, you’re the only one who knows to slow it down’🎶

Matt pulls me closer to him, our bodies flush, as we sway back and forth. He presses quick kisses to the side of my head and I giggle as he nuzzles his face into mine. He swings me out so he can clumsily pull me back to him and we both burst into laughter.

🎶‘you’ve begun to feel like home’🎶

We spin around now, completely offbeat, the water on the ground around us splashing up and soaking us even more.

He wraps his arms back around my waist as the song begins to fade out, still holding me close. I open my mouth to make a joke about it ending when I hear the drums of Taylor Swift’s Lover.

I pull back and stare at him in incredulity and he shrugs. “It’s your playlist.” And my heart takes off like a rocket ship.

I reach up and press my lips to his, a gentle kiss that turns more passionate as I try to fill it with as much love as I feel right now. When I pull away, he licks his lips, his face a deep and satisfied red. “I love you.” He whispers.

“This is the very ecstasy of love,” I reply with a grin. Not my line, per se, but close enough.

And as Matt leans down and closes the space between us again, I feel the block around Ophelia’s lines loosen. But how could it not with a muse like this.

🏷️: @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @rootbeerworshiper @st4rswrld @leah-loves-lilies

#maggie b writes #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo oneshot #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fandom

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

I’m itching to request another Price kidnapping fic, but I’m not gonna make you write a THIRD one despite how delicious and delightful your writing is

Congratulations!🎉🎉🎉

—Burst Veins

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [He never noticed you weren't behind him.] ❞

When he had looked back, you were gone. 

Price had never been so panicked—his eyes snapping this way and that, body turning in a circle as the radio on his chest went wild with barks and intel coming in. This had turned into a shit-show fast; there were too many problems at once. 

And now you had disappeared.

“Fuck!” He shouts, combat vest heavy on his chest as a soul-deep worry infects him. But John wasn’t one to drown in in-action; he was a Captain. 

Wrenching a hand to the radio, he snarls the new plan to the rest of One-Four-One and tells Simon to radio into Laswell for air support as his boots begin tracing his footsteps back. 

The building he was in had flickering lights above his head, making his eyes lose focus before they honed on as he shook his head. Finding you became his top priority in a matter of seconds, and that fact was both a stain and a curse on John’s brain.

Since when had you gotten so important to him beyond being a valuable asset and a member of his Task Force? It was a question for another time, evidently, because you’d been stolen out from under his very nose. 

The question was…where had you gone?

—

You’re kneeling in the middle of a large lobby, hands tied and a rag stuck in your mouth as a gun is leveled at your head. 

It was embarrassing how it happened—one of these goons had snuck up behind you and stuck a piece of fabric with chloroform on it to your mouth and nose, able to keep pressure for the few moments that was needed to make you loopy. And now…now you were stuck with a battle outside and your Captain probably looking for you.

Or at least…you hope he was. 

The rag is ripped out of your mouth, your broken nose leaking long streaks of blood out as you hiss when fingers grab at it; a rabid shout stuck in your throat as your head is shoved back.

“Radio your soldiers,” the man speaks quickly, looking around. He couldn’t even drag you out of the building due to the gunfire—what did he expect to gain from this? “Tell them to retreat and that you are my hostage.”

Your chuckle catches him off guard, your head burning as your eyes fade in and out. 

“That’s not gonna happen there, Pal.”

The safety of the gun is clicked off. “Now. Or I will shoot.”

“Then shoot,” you buy time, your hands slipping into your sleeve to grasp the handle of a blade strapped to your forearm. “Won’t matter to me—I’ll be dead.”

Those eyes of his flare as his lips peel back; the barrel firm to your forehead before it shifts to the side as he leans closer. You can smell his breath.

“Use your radio. Now—” A shadow slips into the lobby, and you don’t have to look to see who it is. 

Price takes the shot with no hesitation, the man screaming as his shoulder bursts with gore and blood—wasting no time even with your loose mind, you cut your bonds and bring the knife down into the supple flesh of his neck. 

Your name is called fiercely as you lean forward and cough over the body, hands grabbing at your shoulders to pull you back and get you to your knees. 

“Fuckin’ hell, look at me.” A light is flicked and runs over your eyes—you bat it away as a familiar beard and serious blue eyes grace you. Your lips flicker at John’s firm stare. 

“Chloroform. All good.” An aggressive sigh. 

“You need to be more—”

“Aware of my surroundings, yes, Sir,” you mutter, putting a hand to your head as his fingers loosen on your gear. 

“Head still on?” He asks you, eyes jumping up and down as he grunts at your broken nose; hand moving forward to push the blood back as your face heats. 

“As much as it can be,” you cough again at your raw throat. “Shit, we need to get going.”

John sighs, knowing it to be true. There wasn’t time for rest—you’d put them back in crucial time. He’ll need to address this another time.

“Up and at it, soldier, we’re late.”

“Fashionably, Sir.” He hides his violent smirk before grabbing your arm and dragging you up.

#cod #you underestimate how much i like writing abduction fics #cod x reader #cod x you #cod mw22 #call of duty x you #call of duty #mw2 #mw2 2022 #x female reader #call of duty mw2 #john price cod #john price #captain john price #captain price #cod mwii #cod mw2 #john price call of duty #john price x reader #john price x you #drabble #cod john price #tw: injury #tw: wounds

[suyacho]

JUST THE TIP ft. tamaki amajiki

synopsis — getting ready for a party and asking for help getting your zipper up, only for your boyfriend not be able to keep his hands off you.

kinktober 2023

content warnings: minors/ageless blogs dni - fem!reader - pro!hero tamaki & reader - reader in a dress - mirror sex - unprotected sex - he fucks you with just the tip - fingering - nicknames (love, baby) - big dick tamaki oops - slight praise - choking like once - 1,5k words

note: woah i missed writing pookie so much🥹 this took me back to my httptamaki roots /lh

“Tamaki?” you shouted through your shared apartment, struggling to zip your dress up. “Yes, my love?” Tamaki answered, walking into the bedroom, a smile creeping up his face as he noticed you standing in front of the mirror.

“Could you help me zip it up?” you questioned, smiling at him through the mirror. “Mhm of course– you look beautiful by the way.” he complimented you, his big hands now placed on your sides as he pulled you closer to him.

“Well thank you.” you laughed sweetly, relaxing into his touch as he eyed you up and down, swallowing a breath at the thoughts running through his mind, mentally cursing at the fact that you had to go somewhere.

“Tama..?” you broke the silence, making him snap out of his thoughts. “It’s been a while… hasn’t it?” Tamaki asked, leaning closer to you to the point where his breath was ghosting over your neck, making goosebumps appear. 

It had been a while however, now was not the time, not when you had a company party to attend. Especially considering Tamaki was one of the important guests, since it was the yearly party FatGum hosted at his agency and Tamaki was one of his number one employees. 

“I know but please.” Tamaki mumbled, faint blush covering his cheeks as he placed sweet yet teasing kisses on your neck, sucking here and there to leave his mark. “Mhm– you know we can’t.” you sighed, checking the time to see if you had time for a quickie. 

Without hesitation, his hands slowly moved your dress up, looking at you through the mirror, noticing the way you closed your eyes, smirking to himself as you gave yourself to him. “It’s just the tip okay?” Tamaki taunted, fingers ghosting over your slit through the fabric, a gasp escaping your lips.

“Promise?” you asked, the feeling of his big hands on your body making you melt in his touch. “I promise love.” he answered, pushing your panties aside, groaning once he felt your wetness.

“You wanted me too.” Tamaki mumbles under a breath, tapping his fingers at your mouth. “You’re lucky I didn’t put my lipstick on yet.” you laughed, sucking on his fingers, getting them all nice and wet.

“Sucking so greedily, you’re killing me love.” Tamaki smirked, slipping in two fingers you previously sucked on, groaning at your wetness and the way you clenched around his long fingers. 

Tamaki watched your face from the mirror, cock strained in his jeans, eager for your touch as he placed kisses on your neck. Eagerly sucking and licking at the skin, intentionally leaving marks without you knowing. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he curled them up inside of you, watching you fall apart on his fingers through the mirror.

“Baby– we don’t have time for this.” you whined, moving against his fingers regardless of your remark. “So? What do you want me to do?”

Playfulness lingered in his tone, you knew he was teasing you, trying to see how far you’d go.

“Just do it already.” you begged, locking eyes with him through the mirror. “Do what my love?” he taunted, enjoying every second of this. 

If he wasn’t this needy himself, he would’ve teased you for longer, but he couldn’t, not when he was about to bust one, merely at the sight before him.

“Just fuck me with the tip already.” you mumbled, slightly embarrassed at your neediness when you were the one who told him you couldn’t at first.

Tamaki didn’t waste a second at those words and quickly hurried to unbuckle his jeans, pulling his undergarments down just enough to free his cock. Groaning when it slapped his abs, tip red and leaking angrily, begging to be inside of you.

“You’re so good to me.” Tamaki smiled, slipping your panties aside, teasing his length against your dripping slit, tip nudging your entrance as he slowly slid in. Already fighting back the urge to slam in his full length, but remaining a man of his words. 

“Mhm– you’re so big baby.” you whined, feeling slightly stretched from just his tip, never getting used to his size. 

Tamaki explored your body, not being able to keep his hands off you while he thrusted in and out. Needy whines leaving his lips as he nuzzles his face in your neck, placing kisses as he locks eyes with you through the mirror. 

“You’re so gorgeous.” Tamaki whispered breathlessly into your ear, his hands moving up to move your dress straps down, only for you to stop him. “Na-ah, we don’t have time for that baby.” you remind him, teasingly moving away from him, only to earn a defeated groan.

“ ‘m sorry love.” Tamaki apologized, staring at you with puppy eyes through the mirror, his cock twitching from the teasing. Slamming it all in, only for him to pull out after and continue fucking you with the tip, his apology from seconds ago already losing it’s meaning.

Tamaki couldn’t help himself, not when you were so perfect, so warm and welcoming. You made him feel so good and took him so well, on top of that your reactions drove him crazy. All he wanted to do was take you there in front of the mirror and forget about the party, but deep down he knew he couldn’t, even though it was taking him every nerve of self control in his body not to do so.

“Feels so good.” Tamaki mumbled, trusting in and out, moaning into your ear, a faint blush covering his cheeks as he gripped onto your side. The way he was fucking you was both extremely hot and extremely embarrassing considering it came from his yearning for you and he had no issue showing you his needier side.

“You’re doing so well baby.” you praised him sweetly, closing your eyes and leaning back into his touch, a whine escaping his lips at the praise. You giggled a bit, moving your hips to match his pace and in a way you knew made him feel good.

“Baby you’re so big.” you whimpered, clenching around him, only to be met with a shaky breath and stuttering legs, signaling you that he was close. “You wanna cum for me, pretty boy?” you taunted him, purposely bending over your desk so he gets a good view, giggling a bit at his flushed face. 

“Mhm.” is all Tamaki replies, biting his lips as he picks up his pace, his thrusts becoming sloppy, frustrated whines leaving his lips as he slips out a few times, trying to catch his high while still fulfilling his promise, feeling that familiar knot in his stomach.

“You’re such a good boy for me.” you praise him, squeezing down on him as you take more of him, a choked moan leaving Tamaki’s lips while he looks at you through the mirror. Sight blurred from pleasure and his face flushed, breath unsteady as he released inside of you, slowly pulling out and smearing some over your slit.

You giggle softly, turning around to wrap your arms around him. “Good boy~” you taunted him, pecking his lips sweetly. Ignoring that yearning sensation between your legs while he came down from high.

Tamaki smiles sheepishly at you, his hands moving down and teasing a finger along your slit, while slowly lowering himself. Attempting to get down on his knees, wanting to give you the pleasure of an orgasm as well. Only, for you to pull him up by his tie, a choked moan leaves his lips as his cock twitches at the feeling, being defeated at your action while he looks at you with pleading eyes.

“Make it up later tonight alright?” you smile, pulling him in a kiss before he could argue against it, it being messy and needy as he deepened it, never getting enough of you.

“Mhm fine—“ Tamaki whined when you pulled back, foreheads resting against each other as a string of saliva connected the two of you. 

“It’s about time we leave, isn’t it?” you reminded him, pecking his lips once more as you teasingly ran your fingers against his softened cock, helping him get dressed again. Tamaki still being in his post orgasm bliss.

“Yeah, so we can come back home faster.” Tamaki mumbled, already thinking of what he’d do to you when you’re home as you buckled up his belt. 

“Be patient baby, we haven’t even left yet.” you laughed, fixing your panties and whimpering at the feeling. His cum smeared all over it and still inside of you, as a way of claiming what’s his and proof of the acts you guys did just now.

“How do I look, baby?” you ask him after fixing yourself to make it look like nothing happened and putting on your lipstick. “So fucking pretty.” Tamaki complimented you, his arms wrapped around you once more as he stared at you with loving eyes.

“How do I look, love?” he questioned this time, only for you to giggle a bit. “Beautiful and like you just had the best orgasm ever.” you tease him, his face clearly showing off the bliss and his cheeks still tinted a darker shade of pink.

“Perfect.” Tamaki laughed, intertwining his fingers with yours as you made your way out of the house. His eyes glued on you like you were his prey, he would devour the second you two were alone again, knowing that he would keep going until either of you physically couldn’t anymore.

networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

#tamaki smut #tamaki amajiki smut #suneater smut #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #suneater x reader #tamaki x reader smut #suneater x reader smut #tamaki amajiki x reader smut #amajiki x reader #amajiki smut #amajiki x reader smut #snow writes; smut #snow’s kinktober

[homies-slut]

Burns Deep

Summary: Your jealousy burns deep, but Homelander’s burns deeper than you ever imagined.

Warnings: language, 18+ content, jealousy

Extra: GIF is not mine

It was another day at Vought tower, kissing the public’s ass once again. Edgar just announced the newest member of the Seven, Stormfront, and you couldn’t help the bitterness you felt the moment you saw her. The I don’t give a fuck attitude was enough for you to roll your eyes every time something came out of her mouth.

You were already 20 minutes late for your daily meeting why not make it 30 to piss John off even more. You were closest to him out of the Seven and once she joined, he completely took your attention for granted and kept it on her just because she was different and stronger than most of us.

Strutting your way towards the tall steel doors in your new supe outfit, the baby blue and white leather hugging your curves uncomfortably yet enough to make you feel more confident than you ever have.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Y/N.” Homelander smiles, but you knew it wasn’t genuine. He was steaming from the ears. Where were you? Who were you with that was more important than being here?

“Sorry, outfit malfunction.” You shrug, taking the seat next to Starlight. His eyes never stray from you until you sit down, throwing him the sweetest smile you could muster with innocent eyes. You knew he wouldn’t stay mad long. It was almost impossible for him to go an hour knowing you were mad at him.

“As I was saying,” he continues through gritted teeth, “Edgar does not make the rules anymore. We are the ones who are stronger than any of them weak feeble humans out there,” he rants. “We have the power guys! I don’t think they really understand what we’re capable of, and now with Stormfront being here we can really show them what we stand for.”

“How sweet of you.” She smiles. “I just don’t understand how anyone could just let themselves be controlled by some company, for what?” She explains. “Money! I mean, come on you guys, we are the company.”

“And that is why you are the best and why we need you,” Homelander says almost sincerely with puppy dog eyes, you wanted to squeeze her vocal cords until she couldn’t talk anymore.

“Aright, is that it?” You exclaim, getting up and walking towards the door. “I have a date tonight that’s way more important than this bullshit.” You add just to piss him off even more.

That wasn’t a lie. You did have a date with one of the workers at Vought from wardrobe. You realized just how much you were missing out on cause you were too busy wrapped around Homelander’s finger.

“Walk out that door and you’re out,” Homelander growls, slamming his hand down on the table. You halt, mouth parting in astonishment when you turn around to face him. Red eyes, blazing with only what you could call anger, stare back at you.

“You can’t be serious?” You snap angrily, your eyes already turning a bright shade of blue at the rage and power coursing through your blood.

“I’m dead serious. Sit your ass down now, we’re gonna have a little chat,” he hisses. “Everyone else, out.” They give you a look of pity, hesitant to leave you alone with the raging supe.

“Now!”

They scatter like ants until it was just you and John.

“You,” he laughs bitterly, pointing a finger in your direction, “really like to push my buttons, don’t you, Y/N?”

You pretend to think. “Hmm, I really don’t know what you mean, John. As far as I’m concerned this meeting was over before I even got here. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

He stalks towards you almost like a predator waiting to pounce on its prey. “Who is he?” He spits, towering over you. You stand your ground cause he doesn’t scare you at all. Sure, you know what he’s capable of, but would he really go as far as hurting you? His best friend. The one he was experimented on with since they were toddlers.

“You don’t know him. He sure is handsome though,” you coo, bringing a hand up to graze his jaw. You watch his eye twitch and jaw clench under your fingers. “I was quite lonely without you these least few days, you know, since you’ve been with Stormfront so much. I just decided to find someone to keep me company.”

He grabs your wrist in one hand and your throat in the other, shocking you, and in one swift motion pins you against the wall. His face hovers close to yours just enough to where you can smell the mint gum on his breath.

You let out a harsh breath at the impact and laugh as much as you can with the little oxygen you were working with.

“Why have you been so bad today, hmm? You like being a bad girl and embarrassing me in front of everyone. Just because I haven’t given you enough attention.” He was seething, fingers tightening around your neck. Homelander was seeing red. The thought of you going on date with some else was enough to trigger him. He doesn’t want to think about what would happen after. The way you’d let him touch you in places he was only meant to touch.

He yanks you towards him, bringing his lips to yours in a rough burning kiss. His mouth was hot against yours, fingers lessening their grip just a little so you could breathe easier. He releases the harsh grip on your wrist, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands travel to your thighs, lifting you up while you wrap your legs around him, threading your finger through his blond locks.

“You’re fucking mine, Y/N.” He made a low guttural sound in the back of his throat. “I’ll kill him before he touches you.” You release a loud moan at the thought of him killing someone over you. His lips were everywhere skin was showing. Your back hit the table before you were yanked back towards him. He grips your face harshly. “Who do you belong to?” His other hand found the warmth of your pussy under the leather fabric, teasing your clit in harsh circular motions.

“You,” you cry out, bucking your hips into his hand as tears welled in your eyes. “I’ve always belonged to you, John!” You gasp when he rips a hole in the crotch of your suit. He unbuckles his pants, yanking them down and running the red tip of his swollen cock against your moist folds. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and he yanks your head up firmly. “Eyes on me, young lady,” he growls with a hunger present.

He inches the head of his cock inside you, letting out a small whimper. “Fuck.”

“Please, please, please,” you beg. You were pathetic, cock drunk to say the least. “John, please,” you whine.

He thrusts deep inside you without warning, and you grip his shoulders tightly, burying your nails in the fabric of his suit. “Goddamn, this pussy,” he grunts, pulling out and thrusting in you again until he was driving his cock in and out of you in a chaotic manner, like he couldn’t get enough.

“This is your punishment for being a bitch today, understand?” He barks, plunging your pussy while it makes squelching noises from how wet you were.

“Yes, yes,” you moan loudly, feeling the burning sensation building in the pit of your walls. You clench around his cock, and he jerks you in for another kiss, sliding his tongue in your mouth. He growls against your mouth, releasing his seed in your pussy as you coat yourself with his cock that was still fucking you.

“I dare you to act up again,” he warns, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ll kill every single fucking one of them who try to take you from me.”

#the boys #Homelander #Homelander x reader #Homelander smut #the boys prime #john gillman #antony starr #Homelander imagines #the boys imagines

[artemisgrayy]

You want self-indulgent prompts? I am currently feral about the idea of Alastor stepping on my face (maybe in a prompt sense, we could call this rough sex/BDSM) and Lucifer giving me aftercare.

The Importance of Aftercare

18+ - Minors DO NOT INTERACT

[Alastor x Reader Smut] [Lucifer x Reader Aftercare]

Tags: NSFW, Minors DNI, rough sex, suspension, Alastor's shadow, loss of mobility, clawing, broken skin, breeding if you squint hard enough

Summary: You are Alastor's plaything. He enjoys using you, and knows exactly what buttons to push to deliver you into sweet, sweet subspace. Unfortunately, aftercare is not a concept his familiar with so Lucifer swoops in to pick up the pieces following your demise.

Your body feels stiff from the position you’ve found yourself in for the last several hours. Alastor left you in his room strung up by the wrists like a marionette, vulnerable and exposed. If anyone were to walk in right now you would be mortified, and he knows it.

The shadowy tendrils hold your wrists firmly to the small of your back — tight enough that they're on the cusp of cutting off your circulation but just centimeters away from that threshold. Any tighter and you would begin to lose feeling in your hands. The Radio Demon knows your limits and he enjoys pushing them.

You’re his plaything.

At this point, you're fed up. You've been here so long that your patience has worn thin. Feeling restless and ticked off, you squirm against the restraints in hopes that their firm grip loosens.

A sudden cool breeze licks your naked skin, causing your nipples to harden. Your senses are assaulted by the smell of spruce and petrichor as a dark shadow creeps up from the floor below you. Danger signs involuntarily flash through your mind as the shadow forms the Radio Demon.

He's so close you could touch him if you had use of your hands — which is exactly why you don’t. His sharp smile creates a sense of urgency as he edges closer to you, savouring your helplessness.

“Going somewhere, my Doe?” Purrs the demon, narrowing his eyes at your squirming body.

“Nice of you to show up. Here I thought you forgot about me” you spit, annoyance dripping from your voice.

“Heavens no” he cackles, waving his free hand, “I just wanted to see how long you would wait for me to return.”

“Fuck you.” you seeth, squirming violently against his shadow’s cold embrace.

Alastor doesn't even flinch. Instead, he stands there watching you squirm, visually amused by your failed attempts at freedom. The smug expression sends fire through your blood as he watches his pet, helplessly struggle to no avail.

You know what will set him off, but a lingering fear of Alastor causes you to hesitate. Your struggle ceases as you calculate your next words carefully.

You've decided you've had enough.

“You might have me tied up pretty tightly” A smirk forms on your face. You look him dead in the eyes basking in the delight of his smug expression disappearing with your next words, “But I know the leash Lilith has you on is tighter.”

The lights flicker violently as the final word escapes your lips and the sound of radio static rings through the room with such force that your ears ring. You wince. His glowing red eyes snap to vacant black, red radio dials replacing his pupils.

A brief sense of relief takes hold when the shadowy tendrils release you and you slam into the bed below you. When you attempt to get away, you feel him grab a fistful of your hair before he throws you face down on the floor.

You push yourself up but are quickly stopped when you feel a boot crush your face against the floor. Through the corner of your eye, you see Alastor looming over you with such rage and disgust that your stomach turns. The horns growing from his head are a stark reminder of how dangerous this demon is.

“If I ever hear those words leave your mouth again, your soul will be the next one I tear apart. I'm sure the rest of hell will enjoy the sounds of your terrified screams as I broadcast them for all to hear, you disrespectful wretch.” he bellows.

Your heart races as his voice echoes through your ears, terrified by his threatening words.

The heel of his boot digs further into your face causing you to whimper at the weight of it as strands of hair rip from your scalp. The carpet scrapes against your cheek as you lay there, helpless under the weight of his body.

You dare not move when Alastor removes his foot, your body remains limp as you wait patiently for your demise. His claws grasp a fistful of your hair, your scalp screaming from the individual strand ripping free as he forces you onto your knees.

“Tell me, darling, who do you belong to?” Demands the demon, releasing his grip on your hair to lift your chin with his finger. Feeling dazed and defeated, you take in the scene caused by your provocation. His body has contorted into something terrifying — like an animal cornering his prey. Red drool drips down his chin as the shadowy tendrils swirl around him, glows of green illuminating the room around you. The radio static fades to a little more than a drone in the background.

“I belong to you, Alastor.” You mutter, hypnotized by his glowing eyes sharpening towards yours.

“And what are you?”

“Your pet.”

The smugness returns to his face and he smirks down his nose at you through half-lidded eyes.

“Lovely.” he uses your hair as leverage to shove your face against his groin and you feel his thick, monstrous length against your mouth. A sharp spike of lust cascades through you when you feel his cock twitch from your hot breath seeping through the crisp fabric of his pants.

You're suddenly eager to taste him, lifting your hands to paw desperately at the thin barrier between you and your prize. You almost miss the demon curse under his breath as he jerks your head back.

“Ah ah ah,” he wags his finger, “patience, pet”

You whimper in response, a self-satisfied expression lights up his features at the sound. He runs his clawed thumb across your lips and you pant, urgent to please him. He uses one hand to slowly and methodically unbutton his trousers and your mouth salivates in response.

“Feast, my Doe,” he demands, his smile illuminating the hungry look in his demonic eyes. You launch forward, primal instincts taking over, and with one tug of his pants, you free him. Precum drips from the head of his cock in anticipation of your mouth. You lap it up hungrily, your tongue trailing a line of hot saliva down his length.

Alastor growls in response. A spark ignites in you, causing you to swallow him whole. Your eyes fill with tears as you fight against your gag reflex, your throat stretching to take him all in. He snarls in response, both hands now curling his fingers around your hair as he holds you in place.

“So eager.” His mellifluous, filtered voice coats your ears like silk.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you look up at him. When you lock eyes, he finally releases you allowing you to breathe.

But you aren't done.

You stick out your tongue and pant heavily to indicate your hunger and he looks down at you with a chaotic intent. This is a game to him. He gets enjoyment out of watching you suffer.

Your eyes roll back into your head when Alastor finally awards you another taste, shoving his length into the open orifice. The Radio Demon snarls in response and proceeds to throat-fucking your mercilessly — you moan sending vibrations through his shaft.

You can see the shift in his eyes when he loses the control he so effortlessly maintains when he feels it.

He pulls you off of him and throws you back on the floor, face down. Feeling mischievous, you decide to try your luck to scramble away.

Play his game.

You make it to your hands and knees before his clawed hand grabs your ankles and rips your legs out from under you. You hit the ground with a thud and you feel his hand wrap around your neck when he pins you down forcefully. He uses his free hand to prop you on your knees to line himself up to your drenched slit. You rock your hips back to meet him, longing for him to fill you, but Alastor shifts his weight, pinning you further into the floor. After what feels like an eternity of torture, he finally shoves himself into you with such force that you cry out, overtaken by pain and bliss. It was a sound that was entirely unrecognizable to you.

The claws of his free hand grip your waist, breaking the skin, and he proceeds to fuck you mercilessly, his cock stretching you out with every slam. You glance up towards the force holding you to the ground and you sharply inhale as the Radio Demon’s depraved expression sends you deeper into ecstacy. Your moans are your reckoning — the sound echoing through the room ignites a blaze in his actions.

He slams his hips into your ass with such rhythmic force that you can feel the carpet burn forming on the side of your head with the small, forceful movements. He's ravenous and you're ready for him to devour you.

Alastor releases your waist and his middle finger finds your clit. His claws are so sharp, they threaten to slice you with each movement, only driving you further towards your end.

He watches your pinned face intently, observing your reaction as he locates your sweet spot. When a deep, guttural moan escapes your lips, his smile widens even further, and his glowing eyes burn with desire.

The demon grabs you by the hair and situates you on your knees, holding you firmly against his body. Your breathing intensifies as he ruthlessly assaults your clit while fucking you senseless.

You’re so deep in subspace that you're non-verbal but your body language does all the talking — it begs, pleads, and yearns to reach the peak of your climax. The euphoria builds, enrapturing you as you he burrows deep inside, his cock stretches you out with his overwhelming size and —

The teather snaps

You cry out as the orgasm rushes over you, exploding from your throbbing clit to your toes. Alastor growls when he feels your walls contract around him. He slams your face back into the carpet, pumping inside of you unsparingly as he drives towards his own release.

“Who you belong to, pet?” growls the Radio Demon.

“I belong to you, Alastor.”

And with that he pushes deep into you, releasing his seed with such force.

He wants you to remember it.

He collapses on top of you and you sit there for a moment, chests heaving. The only sound that can be heard is collective exhales as you bask in the glow of each other's heat.

“Good girl.” Alastor praises you earnestly, running his fingers through your hair as you fight to collect yourself. The validation creates warmth under his fingertips that fires through your body.

He returns to his feet, pulling up his trousers as you roll over to your back and look up at him, basking in his shadow. He looks down at you with a look you couldn't quite interpret.

Your eyes widen when you recognize it.

“No, Alastor, don't you fucking da-” but it's too late. Before you have the chance to finish your sentence his shadow takes you hostage securing you in the air once more.

“I'll be back, darling,” he trills as his body melts into the shadows through the floor, “be good for me will you?” his voice echoing early around you.

And just like that he was gone.

“For fuck sake.” you groan, furious and annoyed at Alastor for once again putting you in this situation, dangling helplessly with your hands pinned to your back.

“Get back here! You can't leave me like this!” You scream, nearly choking back tears. You scream cursing for several minutes.

The doorknob turns. You're ready to lay into Alastor, fiery lava coursing through your veins.

“This isn't funny dude, you just fucked me and lef-” your wavering words are cut short when Lucifer walks in to investigate the disturbance. When he looks up at you, his eyes shift from their usual sunny demeanor to deep concern as he takes in your situation.

Majestic wings break free of his back and he glides towards you, determined. You're in such awe that you forget about the embarrassing position you're in when he slices through your shadowy prison, catching you in his arms.

“I'm gonna fucking kill that guy, I swear.” Lucifer's horns grow from his scalp as his typically cheerful voice lowers violently, his eyes glowing a furious red at the prospect. He lowers himself to the ground and swiftly carries you out the door towards the bathroom.

You collapse in his warmth, shivering. He holds you tighter against him as he uses his wings to propel himself down the corridor urgently. When you look up at him, you notice his horns have disappeared. His eyes back to his normal yellow glow, are full of determination as he carries forward.

When you reach the bathroom, the light stings your tear-soaked eyes, causing you to wince from the reflection off the tiled floor. He sets you down gently and you gasp as the cold tiles make contact with your thighs, causing you to shudder. Lucifer turns on the bath, checking periodically on the temperature as the scent of Lavender fills the room.

The blood that stained your skin from where Alastor hooked his claws was dry but continued to radiate sharp pain through your torso. Removing his jacket, Lucifer lays it over top of your exposed, trembling body like a blanket and you feel safe in the warmth of the fabric. He crouches down, grabbing your chin between his fingers to bring your gaze to his.

“Are you okay?” he asks genuinely, his voice laced with worry. The graze of his fingertips brushes the hair out of your eyes and smiles causing your heart to stutter.

“Yeah, I'm okay.”

“Did he hurt you?”

You pause, wondering how much you should divulge.

“Only because I wanted him to.” you shrug, slightly embarrassed.

Lucifer chuckles, his reaction without judgment.

“Well hey, there's nothing wrong with that,” he smirks, “I know how I react when I sink my teeth into someone, if ya know what I mean.”

He winks and you can't stop a giggle from escaping your chest. He turns off the water and locks eyes with you again.

Reaching out towards you, he paused, looking at you for consent before touching you. You nod your approval and he lifts you effortlessly, placing you gently into the claw foot tub. You wince as the heat of the water draws your immediate attention to every area where the skin had broken.

Lucifer looks at you empathetically as he rests his arms on the tub. His eyes never breaking contact, a crooked grin on his face. He traces his finger around the top of the water, a trail of gold, glittering mist following in its wake.

“But,” he continues, his tone becoming serious “when you put someone in that mindset, you've gotta follow up with care.” He pulls his finger up, the trails of gold taking shape and forming a heart.

You smile, the pain in your body replaced with warmth as you're comforted by his words.

“Oh! One second,” Lucifer reaches into his jacket with purpose, fumbling around for something in particular. His eyes light up with sudden enthusiasm when he locates it, his sharp fangs gleaming as he pulls the treasure from his pocket.

He extends his arm, opening his hand.

“These help huuuge with depression”

In his palm rests a single yellow, rubber duck.

Thank you for sending that in, dear reader - that was a lot of fun to write! I do love me some face stepping and great aftercare 🥵

I'm gonna go take a cold shower now.

--

You can read about some Alastor Aftercare in the AU version

The Importance of Aftercare [AU]

If you're looking for something a bit fluffier, check out my multi-chapter Alastor x Reader fic

From One Hell to Another

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin #alastor is in hell for a reason #hazbin hotel lucifer #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #lucifer fanfiction #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #alastor x reader #take that depression

[hazelsmirrorball]

Spiderman’s Biggest Fan |  Jaime Reyes part 3

summary:  Jaime Reyes is the biggest spiderman fan. His girlfriend on the other hand is Spiderman's biggest hater. 

pairings: Jaime Reyes x Spiderman! FemReader 

a/n:  Part 3 baby! Hope you guys are enjoying this little series. There’s going to be one more part. I hope you guys enjoy it. Wrote this in my literature class. 

warning: English isn’t my main language. Angsty and kinda sad. Scenes taken out of No Way Home. Not edited

[MASTERLIST]

part one. part two  part four part five.

Timing was never right when it came to Y/n’s life. Uncle Ben’s death, getting bit by the radioactive spider in the beginning of her relationship, Attempting to protect Palmera as she was surviving her teenage years. She finally wanted to scream to the world, well her world that she was Spiderman. But maybe the odds weren’t in her favor, maybe it was better if he didn’t know she was Spiderman. What he didn’t know couldn’t kill him. It was hard sometimes to understand what was good about being Spiderman. Don’t get her wrong she didn’t hate it but recently she wasn’t the biggest fan. But there was something positive about being Spiderman and keeping it a secret. Everyone was safe. Safe from danger and all the villains Palmera had to offer, but now with Doc Ock outside of her apartment she hesitated on what was actually safe for her family. No one besides the Justice League and Milagro knew her  identity. She had made it her job to be as discreet as possible making it impossible to trace Spiderman to her and her family. Aunt Marisol was the only thing she had left of the family. She couldn’t lose her. Y/n wasn’t going to lose her. 

Y/n snapped back to reality noticing who Jaime held onto both of her hands searching for her gaze to calm her down. Before Milagro could even speak again Y/n got up from the bed taking Jaime by the hand and Milagro by the arm. She led them  both as quickly as possible into their safe room, Marisol made in case any emergency would’ve happened. Ever since Uncle Ben died due to a robbery her aunt had become paranoid with the villains in Palmera city. Spiderman eased Marisol nerves, making her grateful for her doing patrol. Y/n never really thought it was important to have that, but now she was thankful of her Aunt’s paranoia. 

Y/n rushed the Reyes siblings into the room noticing that everyone else was  sitting inside panic filling their faces. As she paced back and forth trying to think what was best for them, Y/n looked towards the door and scanned the room once again, her eyes bumping into Jaime. 

“Get inside Jaime. It’s not safe outside” She responded seriously, not wanting to be questioned right now.  Right wasn’t the time for the family to find out about her secret identity but it also wasn’t the time for Jaime to get all protective. Marisol could be dead right now for all they know. 

“Get inside? Are you insane, Y/n! A literal murderer has your aunt and you want me to go inside, While you are there doing what, talking sense into him? Are you hearing yourself right now? I’m not letting you go. This isn’t a prick from your job. It’s a guy that could kill you just by blinking. ” Jaime replied, taking her by the arm. Y/n glared at him sternly. 

“I’m not asking for your input on my decision, Jaime. Now stay inside. ” Y/n responded using her super strength to push Jaime in the room locking the door behind her.  She could hear Jaime pounding on the door, but it was useless, he wasn’t able to break it down.

“Y/n! Please open the door before you do something stupid. You are going to get yourself hurt!”  Jaime yelled, still banging on the door. Y/n slipped on her suit that was hidden behind one of the bases as she heard Jaime’s bickering. 

“I’ll be back! I can’t let anything happen to Aunt Marisol.”  she said against the door before running towards the kitchen where she could see the broken windows. She slipped her body outside of their apartment searching around in an attempt to see her. 

On the other side of the door, Jaime continued to break the security door but he wasn’t able to do a thing. His family looked around in confusion, noticing how Khaji Da was nowhere to be found. 

“Khaji, I really need you right now.” Jaime replied, resting his forehead on the door stopping his constant banging, noticing the blood dripping from his knuckles. 

Jaime, Y/n is going to be fine. Follow her orders and stay here. 

Jaime felt his body drag against the door as he hid his face in his hands desperate tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. Milagros slowly walked towards him, sitting by his side. 

 “We are safe here, don’t worry. Nothing bad is going to happen, I bet there’s a superhero on their way soon. Y/n and Marisol will be okay. ” Milagro replied, trying to ease the tension in the dark room. 

“I am the superhero Milly! I can’t wait here if I know that Marisol and Y/n are outside with a maniac.” 

Y/n climbed the tall building as fast as she could, finally reaching the top. She looked around desperately trying to find Doc Oc but  she wasn’t lucky, her view being blocked by smoke coming all around making it quite impossible for her to see. She turned around in her spot trying to discover what was going on as she felt her spider senses tingling. Before she could even process what was going to happen she felt herself being pushed towards the hard ceiling. She looked up to see the familiar pair of eyes looking at her. Y/n tried fighting back but the hold he had on her was strong. He was getting powerful. 

“Look who finally decided to show up. I thought Mister Spiderman has gotten big for Palmera City, I see. Forgot about his little friends in Palmera. I was starting to miss you terribly.” Green Goblin yelled as Y/n attempted to swing a punch but failed miserably.  Goblin laughed as she struggled under his touch. 

“I was taking a break from your bullshit. Might I add that I personally didn’t miss it at all” Y/n muttered moving side to side. Her suit scanned Goblin in an attempt to see how he had gotten so powerful the past two weeks. Her eyes wide as Karen told her the information. 

Target has upgraded his suit and he made more contributions to his DNA. Making him at least eighty percent stronger than before. I believe you should request for backup. 

Y/n rolled her eyes as she muttered a no towards Karen, noticing how she had Batman and Blue Beetle on speed dial. 

“What a pity. I wished we got a visit from the bat, to make things a little bit more interesting than having you around. It’s too easy to win a fight and now thanks to my new upgrades you can’t even fight back. What a shame. I think that your Justice league card should be revoked. They have you fighting the Joker when you aren’t even capable of getting out of my grip. Has Metropolis rubbed on you?” Green Goblin yelled at Y/n as she moved her body attempting to get out of his touch. 

“Whatever this is. You don’t have to involve that citizen. This is between the two of us.” Y/n's voice changed as the artificial intelligence from her suit made her voice sound more “masculine”. 

“Oh you mean your little aunty? Let me tell you she isn’t just a normal citizen. She is attached to you so that means it is a perfect way to get to you and might I add you are good at covering your identity couldn’t find anything aside the fact that she was your aunt. Marisol is a beaut don’t you think? What a shame she has to die. Maybe I could’ve been your new uncle Ben.” And with those words slipping out of Goblins mouth Y/n shoot her spider webs hitting a pipe in front of her while flipping the bodies making her have a hold on the villain in front of her.

 As she slammed through a few floors she could hear Green Goblin laughing as she went down floor by floor. Her anger took over, not even feeling the bricks scrapping her body. Y/n stopped looking down at the man  as she  heard her aunt yelling spiderman. She quickly looked up, noticing that Doc oc was near but Aunt Marisol was nowhere to be found. They were messing with her and it was working. 

Before she could shoot her webs to go to the other villain, Green Goblin took her by the waist throwing her against the crystal door smashing them. Y/n ran as fast trying to avoid another hit or even more damage to her neighbors apartment.  As she caught her breath, Green Goblin clapped slowly taunting her. As he stood a few steps away from her, he laughed looking at her directly. 

“Strong enough to have it all, L/n?” He asked and before he could make the next move. Y/n shoot her webs taking a piece of the door that flew off and slamming it into him. Before It could even hit him, Green Goblin broke it.

“Or too weak to take it” He continued as  Y/n got up trying to swing a punch but Green Goblin quickly caught it, throwing her to the other side of the long hallway. Y/n could feel her body start to weaken as she heard her name come out of his mouth. Green Goblin smashes Y/n  through a window but Y/n quickly  fires webs and pulls herself  back inside only to be flung  through another window, out onto the balcony. Green Goblin pounces onto Y/n. As she lets out a whimper in pain trying to hit him with hands falling miserably she webs the balcony above to flip himself on top of Green Goblin smashing him down to the balcony below. 

“Oh no you don’t!” Y/n tries to web herself away from him. Goblin grabs Y/n’s leg and throws her through a window. 

She limped towards him as she felt her mask breaking. Leaving part of her face visible. Green Goblin smirks at her excitedly as he sees her features

“Always thought you were a dude but now your shitty fighting skills make sense” He responded laughing as his laugh echoed through her ears. She ran towards him pushing him against all the floors of the apartment complex. When they reached the first floor, Y/n took her mask off, taking the man by his suit as she spit her blood on him. 

“I want you to see how well a girl beats your ass”   She responded slamming him against the floor. As every hit got stronger, he laughed harder, messing with her head. 

‘Did you forget who’s in control here? Kill me and your little miss aunt Marisol is dead. What’s it going to be, Y/n. ” He replied, smirking at her. Y/n slowly turned around hearing footsteps behind her. She felt her eyes shut in pain as she noticed Marisol’s body from afar. 

“Go! Please Marisol, run! Marisol please save yourself” As she hears her getting closer. Goblin gripped on her neck laughing maniacally. 

“Your weakness, L/n , is morality. It’s choking you! Can’t you feel it?”  Green Goblin gripped harder as she struggled to breath. 

“Marisol…Please go” Y/n replied, barely audible as she  noticed Green Goblins familiar booms coming towards her at full speed. Marisol, noticing her niece's face, froze dead in her tracks not believing what seeing but didn't notice the bomb that was coming at full speed towards her. Y/n let go of the green goblins body  running as fast as she could towards Marisol but before she could get a step closer her body flew towards the wall as the bomb exploded. 

“L/n,L/n , L/n. No good deed goes unpunished. You can thank me later” Green Goblin said as he left. Y/n tried to move her body as pain overtook her body. Pushing past the pieces of concrete Y/n slipped her body out of the blocks lipping towards Marisol. With all of  her strength she pushed the concrete off Marisol's body trying to see what conditions she was in. Y/n leaned in trying to clean the blood off her face as she noticed the small smile on her lips.  May tries to  get up slowly covered in dust, Y/n slowly caresses her face trying to get the dust out. Y/n clutched her side in pain 

“Marisol, Marisol, I’m here”  Y/n replied while sending her a pained smile. Marisol got up and pulled her into a tight hug. Y/n could feel her tears welding up. Marisol opens her mouth to talk but before a world could come out her body  slowly gave up stumbling back. Y/n quickly catches holding her body close as Marisol mumbles incoherent things as Y/n searches her eyes worriedly. 

“Marisol..it’s okay. We are okay, right? You are okay”’ Y/n replied her breathing changing drastically making her feel a wave of anxiety.

“Yeah, got knocked on my ass” Marisol replied softly letting out a light chuckle. Y/n gave her a side smile as she brushed Marisol hair out of her face.  

“Yeah, me too.” 

“That’s all,” May replied softly, dozing off a little bit. Y/n moved her softly trying to keep her awake.

“I think I broke my ribs” Y/n said trying to gain her attention. Marisol's eyes flutter open watching her wounded side. Y/n clutches to her side wincing as Marisol looks around taking in all the destruction around them. 

“I can’t believe that our nosy neighbors haven’t shown up by now. Haven’t they noticed that they don’t have an apartment anymore” Marisol responded, trying to lighten the mood. Y/n looked around noticing the mess she had made. She scrunched up her face in disgust and disappointed in herself. 

“This is all my fault, Marisol. I never wanted to get you in danger, that’s why I never told you. I wanted to keep you safe and I couldn’t even do that'' Y/n replied, warm tears falling onto her cheeks. Marisol shook her head holding her hand for comfort. 

“This isn’t your fault, Y/n. You are a hero! You did the right thing. That’s amazing.Now it makes so much sense the fact that you “outgrew” your asthma ” She said grinning. Y/n let out a teary laugh as she shook her head. Marisol was at the verge of death and she still managed to make jokes. 

“Still, Marisol. It’s not my responsibility, I should be like a normal adult working studying, not risking my family's life!” She exclaimed  as she squeezed Marisol's hand. 

“No, no, no, Y/n. You listen to me, You have a gift. You have power, and with great power, there must also come great responsibility.” Marisol replied seriously as Y/n nodded slowly, understanding her words. 

“Yeah, I know,” She said softly as she watched Marisol get up slowly. 

“Let’s get the hell out of here. We need to check on the  Reyes” Marisol said as she got up slowly. As Marisol got up she noticed the blood on her hands, she felt her body falling to the ground. Y/n quickly leans over her inspecting her body. 

“What happened? Are you okay” Y/n replied, inspecting her body all over. She knew something bad was going to happen. 

“I’m okay” Marisol replied softly trying not to worry, Y/n. Marisol closed her eyes for a few minutes before fluttering them open to look at her niece. 

“Yeah, you’re okay. What happened, Aunt Marisol?” Y/n replied  as she slowly inspected her, not wanting her to panic. 

“Just have to catch.. Just need to… catch my breath.”  Marisol replied, taking deep breaths. As she closed her eyes. 

“Okay, well catch your breath. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. We are going to take our time, you catch your breath, and then we’ll take you to a doctor okay” Y/n said as her eyes dropped noticing Marisol's side. She slowly touches it, noticing her hands covered in blood making her heart stop

“Are you okay, mi niña?” Marisol replied softly, rubbing her cheek. Y/n starts yelling loudly for help desperately. 

“Somebody help!  I need an ambulance, please! Someone help me. Please” She replied resting her hand on top of mays looking around for help. 

“What happened?” Marisol replied, already losing consciousness of what was happening. Y/n looked at her with teary eyes.She quickly rubs her tears away and looks at her. 

“Nothing happened. You’re okay..You're okay aunt Marisol” Y/n replied trying to  convince Marisol and herself. 

“I just need to catch my breath. I need a minute” May said as she closed her eyes this time longer than the last. Y/n watched quietly not wanting to let her go. 

“I’m right here. I’m right here, Aunt Marisol…We are okay, it’s just you and me.It’s always been you and me” She whispered, holding onto her hand. Y/n how Marisol smiled softly but her face fell when she noticed her hand let go of her cheek. 

“Marisol? Marisol? Will you look at me? Marisol. Please Marisol…Marisol, please wake up and talk to me! Please” Y/n said as she shook her softly every word becoming louder than the next. Her cries became sobs as she tried to get Marisol pulse. Y/n broke down falling on top of her crying into her chest. She could hear from a few blocks away the sirens coming their way. Before she could even have another minute to mourn she heard Karen speak. 

Miss L/n, I know this is hard but it’s time to go. They can’t catch you here, I already called for backup. 

Y/n let out a sigh as she cleaned her tears turning her back on Marisol not wanting to cry here, it wasn’t the time. Right now she wasn’t Y/n she was Spiderman and Spider had always agreed with the police that “he’ would leave before they got there and this sadly couldn’t be the exception. She felt herself push her body to move to  swing her body building to building. 

With great power comes great responsibility,even leaving loved ones behind. 

part 3

[MASTERLIST]

#jaime reyes x you #jaime reyes x y/n #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes #blue beetle x y/n #blue beetle imagines #blue beetle movie #blue beetle #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle 2023 #milagro reyes #justice league #dcimagine #dc x reader #dc titans #dcimagines #dc #batman #spiderman #spiderman reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x bluebeetle #xolo #xolo maridueña #xolo mariduena icons #xolo mariduena imagines #cobra kai #marvel #marvel x dc #reader insert

[bloody-bee-tea]

We have to match

This fic was entirely inspired by by this amazing art by @jjks-dodo

The first time it happens, Suguru doesn't know what to do with the present Satoru shoves into his hands.

“It’s not my birthday,” is the first thing out of his mouth, because it’s the first of December, so it’s actually closer to Satoru’s birthday than his own.

“I know that,” Satoru gives back, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if he’s vibrating out of his skin with excitement.

It’s kind of his default state whenever he does something, though, so it doesn’t really clue Suguru in on what’s going on here.

“What is this, then?” Suguru asks, lifting the present slightly. It’s wrapped, though haphazardly so, and Suguru knows that Satoru must have done it himself.

“If you’d unpack it, you’d know,” he snaps out, slightly on edge so this must be important to him.

Still, Suguru can’t help but to want to know more before he unwraps it.

“I’d like to know the occasion first, if you don’t mind.”

He’s wrecking his brain, trying to figure out if he missed some important date, some anniversary he wasn’t aware of–he wouldn’t put it past Satoru to remember the first time they shared a popsicle or something and then make a big deal out of it–but nothing comes to mind.

“It’s Christmas,” Satoru informs him, and it only serves to make Suguru frown harder.

“It’s really not,” he gives back, because it’s December 1st. Christmas is still far away, and it’s not even as if Suguru celebrates it anyway.

He didn’t think Satoru would, either, what with his family and all but clearly he’d been wrong about that.

“But it’s the Advent Season,” Satoru almost whines out, clearly bothered by the fact that Suguru didn’t open his present yet. “Will you just open it already, goddamit.”

Suguru hesitates for a moment longer, mostly just to annoy the hell out of Satoru, but he sees how the bouncing slows down, sees how Satoru worries the hem of his sleeves with his fingers and Suguru just knows that this is important to him, no matter what is in the present.

It’s important enough to Satoru to make him nervous about this and Suguru doesn’t have it in him to let him wait longer.

“Fine, fine, relax, would you,” he mutters, even as he rips the paper wrapping apart and he momentarily goes still when he finds a sweater.

A Christmas sweater to be precise.

It’s red and green with little reindeers all over and it’s kind of hideous if Suguru were to be honest, but he can’t be. Not when Satoru looks at him with so much expectation written on his face.

“Thanks?” Suguru finally manages to say, still unsure what he’s supposed to do with this, when Satoru suddenly whips out a matching sweater.

“The time leading up to Christmas is the best time and we’ll have to match, so I got you that one to match mine,” he excitedly says, clearly reassured by the fact that Suguru didn’t immediately throw the sweater in his face.

“We have to match,” Suguru repeats slowly, and the corners of his mouth twitch when Satoru nods vigorously, making his hair flop around.

When a strand gets stuck in Satoru’s eyelashes, Suguru reaches out without thought to push it away. He briefly feels panic lick up his throat when Satoru goes still under his fingers, but Suguru pretends as if nothing happens and takes his hand back as if it didn’t mean anything.

“You sure you got my size right?” he asks to break the weird tension between them and it’s enough to jolt Satoru back into action, though he can’t quite hide the faint blush on his face.

“A size  bigger than me, because of your stupidly huge shoulders,” he huffs out and Suguru laughs.

“I keep telling you, if you’d actually train like at least once a weak you wouldn’t be all noodle-limbed.”

“I’m not noodle-limbed!” Satoru huffs and puffs with outrage and Suguru laughs even louder. 

They both know it’s not true anyway; Satoru is good enough at hand-to-hand combat to best just about everyone they know, except, of course, Suguru.

“If you and your stupidly jacked arms rip this sweater apart, I’m not getting you a new one,” Satoru hisses at him when Suguru takes of the shirt he’s currently wearing to try the sweater on.

It’s a nice thought, not having to wear this hideous thing, but Suguru just knows that for all his faked outrage Satoru would be devastated and Suguru couldn’t stand it. So he slips into the sweater and lets out a relieved little sigh when it actually fits him.

He only feels slightly stupid when he turns around and he gives a pointed look at Satoru’s own shirt.

“Where’s yours then,” he wants to know and Satoru lights up like a Christmas tree.

“I have it right here, wait,” he rushes out, magicking out a second sweater from god-knows-where and he slips it on without hesitation. “Now we match,” he laughs out, bright and happy and for that alone Suguru would wear much worse things than a stupid, cute, matching Christmas sweater.

~*~*~

The second time it happens, Suguru is kind of expecting it. He knows Satoru too well to think he’d let something like this go, would only do it for one year and so when Satoru hands him a slightly better wrapped present, he accepts it without complaint.

“Cutting it a little bit close, huh?” he asks, because it’s already late in the night of the first of December and it’s not like Satoru to miss out on even a day of this.

Last year he made Suguru wear the sweater almost constantly, only allowing him to take it off to get it washed and for missions and so for him to almost miss an entire day is uncharacteristic.

“Yeah, well–” Satoru trails off, clutching his jacket more tightly around himself and Suguru narrows his eyes at him.

“What did you do?” he wants to know because it’s clear as day that Satoru is up to something.

“Nothing,” Satoru easily gives back, too fast and too smooth and Suguru’s fingers still on the paper. 

“I don’t think I want this anymore,” he says, shoving the parcel into Satoru’s chest who shoves it right back.

“You have to, though Suguru, we have to match, remember?” 

“I’m not so sure I want to match with you anymore,” Suguru lies straight through his teeth and a painful stab of regret is all he gets for his trouble when hurt briefly flashes over Satoru’s face.

“But–it’s tradition, right?” Satoru asks and Suguru shakes his head.

“One year doesn’t make a tradition, Satoru,” he tells him, though he does get back to unwrapping the sweater.

This one is thankfully only red as far as Suguru can see so far, and so that already makes it better than the last one, at least in Suguru’s opinion.

That thought only holds for as long as he needs to fully unfold the sweater though, because of course it wouldn’t be that easy, not when it comes to Satoru.

The words ‘I’m the naughty one’ are stitched into the front in white and Suguru lowers it just enough to be able to glare at Satoru.

“What the hell is this?” he demands to know only for Satoru to grin brightly at him as he takes off his jacket, revealing a matching red sweater underneath it.

Except his says ‘I’m the nice one’.

“Absolutely not,” Suguru whispers under his breath, even as Satoru laughs right in his face in his glee but he gets the wind knocked out of him when Suguru throws his own sweater in Satoru’s face and then uses that moment of distraction to tackle him to the bed.

“Absolutely not!” Suguru repeats louder this time and starts to wrestle Satoru out of the sweater.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing, Suguru,” Satoru shrieks out, laughing so hard he can barely breathe when Suguru tries to distract him by tickling him but even like this it takes him a long time to finally, finally get Satoru out of the sweater.

“If one of us is the naughty one, it’s you,” Suguru pants out, sitting across Satoru’s legs and looking down at him, his hair falling around his face, bun having come undone somewhere in their tousle.

“But everyone expects that,” Satoru pouts at him, still breathing hard from screaming and laughing and his face is flushed red.

He’s absolutely beautiful.

“And besides, don’t act as if you don’t encourage me at every turn,” he adds and it’s not as if Suguru can even deny that.

Enabling Satoru is a bit of a bad habit of his but not everyone needs to know that.

“Do not,” he says, just to be contrary, and pulls the ‘I’m the nice one’ sweater over his head, so that there’s no chance of Satoru taking it back.

He stills when it settles around him.

“That’s my size,” he says, fixing Satoru with his eyes and Satoru blinks up at him.

“We have the same size?” he tries, even though they both know that’s bullshit and Suguru proves it to him by reaching for the naughty sweater and checking the size there.

“This one is one size smaller, though,” Suguru says and shoves the sweater almost into Satoru’s face.

“My mistake,” Satoru says, still not able to admit that he did this on purpose it seems and there’s only one possible punishment for that.

Suguru flops down on top of him.

“Uff, you oaf, don’t you know you’re heavy as fuck?” Satoru breathes out but his attempts at pushing Suguru off are half-hearted at best.

“I’m also tired as hell,” Suguru easily gives back and dares to nuzzle his face into the crook of Satoru’s neck. “I think I might sleep right here.”

“Hey, hey, Suguru!” Satoru squeaks out, though of course he’d never admit to that and Suguru huffs out a laugh.

Satoru is warm under him and kind of poky with his sharp edges but it’s the single most comfortable position Suguru has been in, simply because it’s Satoru, and soon enough he really gets sleepy.

“‘m gonna sleep now,” he whispers out and the last thing he knows is how Satoru scratches at his scalp as he breathes out a soft “Okay”.

~*~*~

Suguru is already holding his hands out when Satoru steps into the room.

“Let’s see what horrible thing you brought this time,” he says, making grabby hands at Satoru, who seems to have frozen right in the doorway.

“Uhm,” Satoru says, looking down at the present in his hands before he looks back up at Suguru.

He’s more nervous than he was even the first time he did this and it instantly puts Suguru on edge.

“Is it that hideous?” he wants to know, simply snatching the present out of Satoru’s hand, who tries to get it back but ultimately fails because he still can’t best Suguru when it comes to anything even resembling close combat.

“I just–” Satoru cuts himself off, clearly unsure of himself and Suguru fights the urge to soothe his nerves.

He fails miserably, because he always does when it comes to Satoru.

“You want me to give it back?” he asks, offering the present to Satoru, who doesn’t reach out for it. “If you don’t want to, we can skip this year,” Suguru goes on, even though it’s clear that some part of Satoru at least must want because he did get the sweater after all.

“No, it’s just–you might hate it.”

Satoru hasn’t been that unsure since the very first week of them knowing each other and Suguru hates it with a passion.

“Why would I?” he carefully asks but Satoru only shrugs. “Can I unwrap it?”

“Sure. Just remember that it doesn’t–you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

Of course I want to sits at the tip of his tongue, but Suguru bites it back. It’s not going to help if he reassures Satoru with meaningless words right now, so instead of saying that he busies himself with unwrapping this year's sweater.

This one is green for a change but by now Suguru knows to wait until he sees the front before he forms his decision on this, so he quickly unfolds it, holding it out in front of him.

In stark white it says ‘Family Christmas’ on the front and Suguru is glad that the sweater is hiding his face for the moment because to think that Satoru was nervous about this hurts him acutely.

“You hate it,” Satoru grumbles when Suguru takes a moment too long to say something. “I knew you’d hate it, that was such a dumb idea,” he goes on, his voice barely above a whisper and Suguru lowers the sweater so fast, Satoru flinches.

“Of course you’re my family, you idiot,” Suguru breathes out, instantly honing in on what made Satoru so nervous because he knows him after all. “It’s a great sweater.”

“It–is?” Satoru wants to know, clearly still not convinced and Suguru doesn’t hesitate to slide it over his shirt. 

“Of course it is,” he vehemently says, because it is. 

Satoru doesn’t quite seem convinced though, so Suguru pulls him into a hug. 

“You are my family, idiot,” he says, more fondly than maybe necessary, but Satoru doesn’t call him out on it and instead slings his arms around him.

“You sure?”

“I’ve been wearing stupid matching Christmas sweaters with you for the past two years, you really think I would do that for just anybody?”

Satoru doesn’t need to know that that really has nothing to do with being family and all with Suguru being stupidly in love with him. At least not yet.

Though a plan is slowly starting to take form in Suguru’s mind.

“I should hope not, actually,” Satoru gives back and Suguru rests his head on top of Satoru’s.

He doesn’t move away, and he doesn’t protest about the hug as much as he normally does–however feigned his protest usually is–and so Suguru knows that this really means a lot to him.

It means a lot to him, too, and so he’s more than content to stay right where he is.

~*~*~

Suguru barges into Satoru’s room at the tail end of the last day of November.

“I’ve got a present for you!” he calls out, throwing the wrapped gift right into Satoru’s face when he’s not quick enough to sit up and catch it.

Nerves are licking up Suguru’s spine but like this he can’t talk himself out of it. Not again. He talked himself out of it so often during the last year–years, really–and he thinks it’s time that one of them man’s up. He thinks he knows what Satoru’s answer is going to be, has seen it in the lingering stares, has felt it in the prolonged touches but there’s still that small chance that it’s all just because Satoru sees him as family.

As just family, and nothing more.

“What’s this?” Satoru wants to know, turning the present in his hands and Suguru rolls his eyes at him.

“If you’d open it, you’d know,” he shoots back, not sitting down next to Satoru because he needs to be able to read Suguru’s own sweater once he unpacked his.

It doesn’t help with the nerves, when Satoru has to look up at him like that, though.

“Is this–a sweater?” Satoru asks, squeezing the package in his hands. “Did you get me a Christmas sweater?” He almost sounds accusing and Suguru raises an eyebrow at him.

“What? You can do it, but I can’t?”

“But I have ours picked out already!”

“Yeah, well, shucks. It’s my turn, this year,” Suguru decides and he closes Satoru’s mouth when it drops open.

“Wow, didn’t know you could be so rude,” he mutters, Suguru’s hand still under his chin and Suguru gives him his best grin.

“I learned from the best. Now, if you would?”

“Now, if you would,” Satoru repeats mockingly under his breath, but he does rip into the paper, quickly unveiling the sweater.

At first glance it’s simply red, but of course there’s something written on the front and Suguru’s heart beats in his chest.

“I have everything I want for Christmas,” Satoru reads out loud and Suguru can see the frown on his face. “That’s not even funny, Suguru,” he then whines out, turning his gaze back to Suguru, who feels as if he could die on the spot.

His mouth his dry, his heart is beating so fast he’s afraid it might jump right out of his chest and the butterflies in his stomach make him a little bit sick.

“It’s not supposed to be funny,” he still somehow gets out as he opens his jacket and shows Satoru the matching sweater he’s wearing.

It’s green and the words “It’s me, I’m everything” are written on the front.

Suguru watches how Satoru’s eyes go wide as he slowly takes in the words and he knows it’s all going to be fine when Satoru blushes a furious red.

“What does that mean? Suguru, what does that mean?” he demands to know, almost shouting out the words in his urgency and Suguru smiles at him.

“Take an educated guess,” he replies, though he doesn’t torture Satoru–or himself–any longer.

He bends down, briefly pressing his lips to Satoru’s to make it abundantly clear just what this all means and he knows Satoru finally goes with the program when his hands fly up to tangle in Suguru’s sweater, keeping him right where he is, keeping him close.

“Does that mean I don’t get any other Christmas presents this year?” Satoru pouts out, though Suguru can see how his eyes shine with happiness. 

He leans in to taste that smile once more.

“Maybe if you’re being good, I have one or two for you,” he breathes out, and this time it’s Satoru who leans in for a kiss.

“But everyone knows I’m the naughty one,” Satoru mutters against his lips and Suguru laughs.

Satoru steals the sound right from his lips.

“Maybe I’ll part with that sweater just this once,” Suguru muses but Satoru shakes his head. 

“Not a chance in hell, we’re never going to take these ones off. I love you.”

Trust Satoru to still be the first one to say it, Suguru fondly thinks as he’s almost drowning in his love. 

“I love you,” he quickly gives back, peppering Satoru’s face with kisses until he’s laughing with happiness.

“I want everyone to know,” Satoru eventually says, once they are cuddled close on the bed and Suguru snorts out a laugh.

“Kind of inevitable if you don’t want to take that sweater off ever again,” he gives back and Satoru beams at him.

“Best way to tell everyone. Best way to tell me, actually, “he adds after a moment and Suguru simply has to kiss him again.

“Thought you might like it,” Suguru nods, pulling Satoru closer. “Glad you like it.”

“Love it,” Satoru immediately corrects him. “Just like I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Suguru mutters, getting sleepy now that all the adrenaline is out of his system and he’s warm and cozy in bed, with the love of his life safely in his arms.

He nuzzles his face against Satoru’s shoulder and breathes one more kiss on his skin before sleep slowly drags him under.

The last thing he hears his a muttered “You think there are sweaters for proposing?” and Suguru falls asleep with a smile on his face.

He really wouldn’t mind a sweater like that.

#bt writes #jjk #satosugu #stsg #getting together #love confessions #first kiss #fluff #humor #christmas sweater #cuddling and snuggling

[estellemusings]

HSR-Scenarios

Dan Heng x Reader

🌟 : Pom-Pom found you unusually alone as you look at the stars

It was unusually quit since everybody is in their own room except for Pom-Pom whose walking around the parlor car checking if everything is in place. Until they saw you standing by the window looking out to the stars.

Pom-Pom find it unusual for you to be here alone while looking out the stars. Pom-Pom walks towards you.

“What are you doing here?” Pom-Pom asks

You at them and force a smile

“The stars is a bit different today isn’t it. They don’t shine brightly as it did before” You answered

Pom-Pom got more confused with your unusual behavior, isn’t Dan Heng usually accompanies you so where is he, they keep looking behind your back looking for someone.

“He’s not with me” you stared in the distance as you vividly remember what happened earlier

Dan Heng was usually calm and composed every time you had an argument, but at that moment things get heated up and everything get out of hand. That in the end you both said hurtful words towards each other. Feeling so overwhelmed you left the room crying.

“Where is he?” Pom-Pom asks snapping you out of your revelry

“We had a fight, I don’t even remember the reason it started the first place but things get out of hand. And we ended up saying things that we’ll eventually regret” You explained

Pom-Pom outstretched their ears to pat your back, consoling you.

“Why don’t you talk again when things got calmer, if you don’t even remember the reason why you fought then I guess it’s not big of a deal. Good Communication can make a relationship lasts” Pom-Pom tries to cheer you up.

“And where did you learn that” You teases him, as your lips slightly curved.

“Umm.. Pom-Pom heard it somewhere and it’s not important where” Pom-Pom puffed their cheeks

Seeing Pom-Pom you couldn’t help but laughed but you have to admit what they say was true, Maybe you let your emotions gets the best of you that as you look back the reason must be insignificant for you not to remember.

“Thank you” You pat their heads as you smile brightly.

From a distance Dan Heng watches you, he felt guilty for all the things he said that after awhile he followed you. As he saw you laughing with Pom-Pom made him feel more guilty. He always wanted to see you smiling but he failed and hurt you.

He never meant those words, He never meant to hurt you.

He wanted to run to you and apologize but seeing you happy, he hesitated. But all of a sudden you look his way and met his gaze

“Dan Heng” you called out to him.

He force a smile as he made his way towards you.

“Can we talk?” He asks

You agreed, for a moment you forgot Pom-Pom was there as your eyes is just fixated at him until Pom-Pom excuse himself to left you alone. You repeated your thanks before he leave.

Dan Heng stood beside you neither of you speak cause you don’t know what to say.

“Sorry” You both blurted out at the same time.

You look at each other, and couldn’t help but burst into laughter. What have you two been doing. Why are you even fighting in the first place.

Dan Heng grabbed your waists and pull you in a hug. He pressed a kissed on top of your head as he apologize again.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing, I said some hurtful words too” You admit

“Then Let’s not fight anymore?” He asks

You look up and nod

He leaned down and press a kiss your lips. As pulling him closer deepening the kiss.

From a distance Pom-Pom looks at them as they reconciled and couldn’t help but feel happy for them.

© telle's musings

5-03-23

#🌟.telle's musings #dan heng #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #honkai dan heng #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #dan heng x y/n #hsr dan heng