#@ me says ramble is over -> keeps on typing

[reaperexe]

ᝰ.ᐟDomestic dominance headcanons I can’t stop thinking about

Guiding you through streets with a hand on your hips, moving past you in the kitchen by grabbing your hips or waist to nudge you aside. Maybe they're holding a hot pan or plate and will gently guide you aside with a hand on your hips and words like "Careful baby—there we go, good girl".

Make you keep eye contact with them whenever you speak, it could be you rambling on about your day fidgeting with something on your lap and they will guide you to look up with two fingers to your chin, gently coaxing you to meet their eyes, "Hey, eyes on me, pretty".

Always making sure you're fed. You're busy with work, typing one email after the other and they will come up behind you tap on your cheek and press a fruit slice to your lips "Open. Now" and you do because there's no other choice.

It's always the one worded commands that make you lose it.

"Sit."

"Come here."

"Stop."

You don't carry bags or touch door handles around them and if you try, "what did i say?" With that stern look that makes you shut up instantly.

Pulling you between their legs while they're on a call, pressing your back to their chest as their hand travels up your shirt and traces lazy patterns against your stomach while they talk, making you shudder.

You say something snarky, bratty, they just give you the look, lean in and say "That's not how you speak to me. Try again".

Knows when your exhausted and will come shut your laptop for you with a simple "You're done" and drag you off to bed over their shoulder if your unwilling to leave.

Makes sure you're hydrated, if your water bottle is not as empty as they wish they will simply place it in your hands and cross their arms, standing over you. "Drink. Now".

Will always put your seatbelt on for you, usually with a snarky "There. Try not to die".

Always offering you the best seat in the house with a pat on their lap "Come. Sit."

Part 2..?

[rafeslvbug]

im reaaally loving your recent smau and the robin!reader <33 also curious on how do interactions with rafe and robin!reader goes

i. at her dad’s parties.

your eyes had drifted over to him too many times, always having to blink it back to focus on the conversation your dad’s business partner was having before your mom could lightly smack your arm. he was staring, blatantly. giving you a soft smile whenever you looked his way that caused a crimson blush to spread onto your cheeks.

then your mom suggests speaking to the camerons, and your dad agrees it’d be a good idea. but he does so, not without throwing you a look, because he knows– more than your mom– that you and the cameron boy have something going on. you don’t catch the glance. regardless, it was something you’d admit outright if you had to.

ward and your dad are deep in talk, finance and taxes. inflation and stock prices. rose and your mom discuss the upcoming galas, and you and rafe are standing off to the side. you’ve begun rambling about this bird whose wing had broken off by the lake, and rafe’s nodding along. though his eyes sit above your head, throwing glares at every judgemental person who’s listening into your conversation, horrified your mind isn’t filled to the brim with lace and the newest purse.

“rafe what are you looking at?” you rarely realise this type of thing, but you’ll notice anything about rafe. like you’ve studied him as well as those little insects on trees. your head whips around, eyes scanning over the people looking at you, and they keep going because you don’t see anything wrong with that.

rafe gently spins you back around to him, fingers hooking through the loop of the silk bow at the front of your dress. “just thinkin’ about how everyone here isn’t nearly as pretty as you,” he flatters, and you smile, accepting the compliment with as much grace as you can.

then you ask, blinking innocently up at him, “is the dress so pretty, that we can’t still go check up on that bird?”

rafe huffs out a laugh, “your mother’s gonna kill me if i take you.”

“well i’ll just go by myself otherwise,” you shrug, tilting your head up at him which he mocks.

“is she looking?” he mumbles out, and your eyes slip to the side before you subtly shake your hear. rafe breathes out a sigh, a moment of peace then he darts out the door, hand in hand with you.

ii. at the lake

(a. the party) his dress shoes trod over dried mud, rafe occasionally looking back to make sure you were okay in your high heels. but you were just fine. navigating through sticks and stilettos with ease, like it didn’t hurt. you dropped his hand, rushing forward towards the swing, hem brushing the ground. the bird was laying on it, wings tucked at it’s side. you were about to sit on the ground next to it, before rafe hastens to scoop you into his arm. “rafe!” you exclaim, trying to get out of the bridal hold while he sits down on the ground instead, gathering the fabric of your dress onto his trousers to protect them from the dirt. “i think i know how to sit by myself.” “oh definitely, but this dress i’m sure was expensive, and if i’m in trouble with my future in laws for helping you escape in the first place, i’m not trying to make shit worse,” he grumbles, arm around your back. letting you lean forward towards the wooden plank and injured bird, watching as you gently brush it’s feathers back.

(b. in general) you swung your legs from the branch you had perched yourself on, counting the ants in a line on the bark. “i don’t get it,” rafe groans, running a hand down his face. “you beg me to build a swing– i build the swing– now you don’t want the swing? you want to climb the tree!” his words travel through one ear and out of the other, too busy murmuring the numbers out loud. “nine….ten…..eleven..twe– did i count that one?” “what are you even saying?” he asks, looking up at you from his spot on the ground, palms faced up, hands out in surrender. “i’m counting the ants..but i need to start again!” you call back down, returning to the task as quickly as you can, because you never know if they’ll move. rafe’s face drops, rubbing his head as he sits down on the swing he made for you, waiting for you to finish your counting. “take your time, then.”

iii. random dialogues (bringing him a baked good)

“what is this?” rafe’s lip curls upwards when he opens the door. “a cherry pie!” you hold the dish out to him, little splatters of the cherry filling on the edge. “why the fuck have you brought me this?…no offence.” he adds. “well..my mom says baking for people might make them forgive me for my ignorance..so here!” rafe looks up at you confused, then softens. “you did nothing wrong, so no need for an apology or my forgiveness,” he mumbled, accepting the dish anyways, and tugging you inside along with it.

note: also tysm to that anon <3

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[arachaoticnid]

Ive never really understood the idea that a persons identity is innate and needs to be found. I suppose to some extent our identities are sculpted from birth and life but searching for the 'true' you sounds... impractical? at the very least. Why would you only look for yourself when you can create yourself?

[connormoving]

like i wouldnt mind like. Not having new linear games post 5 its judt that sims 4 wasnt even supposed to Be The Sims 4 it was a last minute pivot and the base code is so outdated and was broken On launch so like. i just wish we could have the final actual sims game be like. one that was always intented to be a major sims release AND be intended to be so long term . yk

[btm-txt]

Love the Sonic movies or hate them I think the most important part about them regardless is that they bring Sonic as a whole into the popular mainstream. Ultimately creating more content and merchandise for the franchise.

As a kid/teen that was OBSESSED with Sonic even though the games and comics were popular enough it still was a rather niche fandom. 

Merchandise was hard to find which always made me incredibly heartbroken, and the few pieces of merch that I could get my hands on were plain T-shirts or shitty quality plushies that I treasured. 

Not only that, the fandom itself wasn’t as accepted either, I can’t tell you how many times I got mocked for liking Sonic or gotten the odd looks and disappointed eye rolls from my family, which ultimately made me distance myself from the fandom all together as I got older. 

And that’s not even getting into the online space surrounding the fandom as a whole, the mocking, the harassment, and bullying of young artists for committing the atrocious sin of making -gasp- mary-su ocs and -double gasp- shipping them with their favorite canon characters  ‘Shadow the Hedgehog would never!!’ -clutches pearls-

All joking aside it was a shit time to be a kid that liked Sonic, everyone thought you were either cringe or the goddamn fandom antichrist. 

I bring this up because in a way the second Sonic movie sparked my interest back into the fandom. The first movie came and went and I couldn’t care less about it, I had moved on from the fandom for years now. 

It wasn’t until my sister really wanted me to watch the second movie with her in theaters because she remembered how much I loved sonic that I caved and watched it with low expectations. I know it’s silly, but watching it reminded me of the little things that I loved about Sonic and the fandom behind it, seeing Super Sonic on the big screen really resonated with me and really made me rethink about these characters in a way I haven’t thought of in years. 

Now as an adult I can really see the shift in the pop culture surrounding Sonic and it’s mostly because of the popularity of the movies. Now I can find sonic merch essentially anywhere, from the mall, to the grocery store, shit even Amazon has same-day delivery Sonic merch. It’s incredible! I now have the ability to collect all the sonic action figures my teen self would cry over, on top of so much cool stuff out there from stickers, to clothing, to plushes, lamps, stationary supplies, literally anything both fandom made AND official merchandise. My inner child is thriving!

But beyond that, the effect of these movies resonating with kids just creates a whole new love for these characters. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve overheard kids in the mall talk about sonic and sonic characters with genuine excitement and have somebody else join in the excitement from their peers to their parents, its really heartwarming to see honestly. 

I hesitantly wore one of my Sonic shirts to work expecting some snarky comments from my coworkers about me liking Sonic, only to have them respond in excitement from ‘omg Shadow? I love him he’s so cool!’ To ‘omg my kids LOVE Sonic and are so obsessed with him!’ which genuinely took me aback at the sheer positivity of it all and the great conversations I’ve had with people over it rather than being joked on. 

All this to say is that I understand the autistic hyper fixation on certain pieces of media and characters in general (trust me I love the Archie comics but looking at KP’s new work literally gives me psychic damage and I avoid it like the plague) but you have to realize that Sonic at the end of the day is a franchise its not just one thing, and in regards to the movies they aren’t made for the old school fans they are made FOR CHILDREN, specifically children who don’t know who or what Sonic is. I know it can be hard to forget especially with all the easter eggs and inside jokes for the fandom but these movies are for kiddos to get introduced to Sonic as a whole. 

Is there better Sonic media out there? YES. But realistically not everyone has access to the video games, or the comics, or have Netflix to watch a show. While going to the movies is a dying breed its still one of the most accessible ways of getting family entertainment and introducing kids to new stories and new pieces of media. I don’t usually post my thoughts out there but seeing the fandom discourse over the movies just makes my eyes roll. Don’t like the live action stuff? cool totally valid, move on, there’s no need to shit on other people’s fun or ruminate on things you hate. 

This fandom already has a sea of creators doing their own projects and storylines with these characters that in my opinion are leagues better than anything canon can come up with. 

I like Sonic, I like Sonic merch, I like seeing the excitement of new people coming into the fandom and making their own fun. While I personally hate Sonic interacting in the human world and having human companions (hated it since Sonic X baby) If the movies is what’s keeping the Sonic train alive and thriving fuck it we ball. At the end of the day the movies aren’t made for me they are made to make money  for kids to be entertained. 

I personally can’t wait to see Shadow on the big screen regardless, I’m interested to see how they end up adapting his story for the movie. I know in my heart of hearts that’s not the same Shadow I grew up with but honestly Shadow hasn’t been the same since they took away his guns. 

Actually none of the characters are the same for each interpretation of their stories from the comics, to the video games, to the big screen they are not the same and I’m at peace with that, its like everything has its own AU and I love multi universe stuff in general.

Ramble over,  just wanted to put some thoughts out there that were rattling on my mind. I get that this is the complaining website but seeing post after post of this discourse feels like there’s a point that is missing, I understand emotional attachment to a franchise but keeping a franchise alive is also a huge plus for the fandom as a whole. More movies fans = more people in the fandom, more people in the fandom means more interest in the content, more interest in the content means more content wether it be in more movies, shows, comics, video games, merch, ect.

I like Sonic content and I want to see more of it. 💙

TLDR: Whether or not you like the sonic movies it keeps Sonic as a franchise alive in the pop culture and ends up creating more content and merchandise in general. The movies themselves aren’t made for diehard fans they are made for this generation of children who are new to the franchise as a whole who probably didn’t have access to the video games or other forms of media to discover Sonic.  I understand the emotional attachment to this franchise and its characters but making post after post complaining about a piece of media you don’t like is generally unproductive and shits on people’s fun unnecessarily. You’ll have a better time cherishing and celebrating the pieces of media or headcanons you love most as opposed to ruminating on things you hate or upset you. 

[xxplastic-cubexx]

sorry if you've already mentioned but what (re?)ignited your love of comics/x-men/cherik? curious because there are so many different adaptations of them

i think im gonna speak for a few (or a lot of) people when i say that TL;DR the wolverine x deadpool movie that came out this summer is what pulled me back into comics and i COULD leave it there but i will go into excruciating and unnecessary detail instead because i love an origin story and i love oversharing.

under the cut tho because im nice sometimes (there's also wxdp doodles in here. if you want to see that)

ironically (and probably commonly), growing up i was more of an avengers kid. Kinda. Loosely <- binge watched the cartoons and movies and read copious amounts of comics and fics and i am hoarding fanart in my old dresser as we speak ok 'loosely' is a modest lie.

embarrassingly i remember getting into discus cause of captain america LMAO so yeah needless to say i was a Humble Fan- me joining my school's comic class/club didnt help either (shoutout to my teach from that she was the realest one out there for. A Multitude of reasons). she definitely is was inspires me to even draw still and make comics and i often think bout the tips i learned from her class tbh she was great

back to the movies t and comics tho, i got into em because my brother would offer to take me and that's how we'd hang out (i rarely saw movies in theaters and i even more rarely went anywhere as a teenager. still kinda like that today tbh ooops) and yk. it just snowballed after that.

my brother and i have always liked comics- he just more than me for a while (though he still very much loves comics and As We Know From My Posts we still talk about them whenever i see him To An Exhausting Degree)

durin then i was really into stony and i have a few surviving doodles i made but those are between me and god. and anyone who asks tbh LOL

'snap can you make this related to x-men again this is long' ok so fast forward to This Summer again I Still Don't Really See Movies but my brother offered to take me and this was the first time i'd actually seen an x-men movie in full

as a kid i only remember seeing the 'perfection' scene between erik and raven in first class while i was channel surfing. pretty sure i changed the channel after seeing mystique naked cause i was scared my parents would get mad at me if they caught me watching it LOL

BUT MOVING ON As A Kid i think it's also natural you'll sometimes watch 92 if it's on And I Did though evidently it didn't stick too hard (i do remember really liking beast and gambit though.... still do really): my knowledge of x-men was. INCREDIBLY sparse. like diabolically so so i didnt have too much expectations (aside from the fact i vaguely liked deadpool beforehand).

tbh i dont know why my bro never took me to see any of the x-men movies. it's not like he doesn't Also like x-men (90% sure nightcrawler's his favorite but my brother will be caught dead saying he has absolute favorites like that)- he owns a bitch load of deadpool comics/omnibus sets too (of which ive read over the years and reread this year) but Shrug moving on

Much Like Most Of The Internet i fell down the rabbit hole that way. i have some doodles i made a couple days after seeing WxDP that i now have an excuse to throw at all of you Look And Perceive

and so. As I Do. i got curious and told myself i'd binge watch all the x-men movies the week before i went back to school And Then I Did ft. My Brother Sometimes and then i said i'd binge watch all of '92 and And I Did That ft. My Brother Sometimes But Less So and now we're here. currently watching Evolution...

once i got to school i realized i lived near a comic shop and started getting into the comics that way (the first ones i got since going down this rabbit hole was Magneto Was Right!, The Resurrection of Magneto, and The Trial of Magneto. if you were curious !!!!! clearly i didnt care too much about context i just needed to see My Guy jelvejlkvj i have no regrets and Evidently ive read more since)

i'm pretty sure what dragged me into cherik specifically was the fact i saw a clip of The Famous ending to 92 where erik's aghast at the notion jean even has to question his love for charles. i think that was what officially had me refocus my lens on them: not a single poolverine thought after that LOL (all the cherik posting i saw on twitter definitely helped too but that was the nail in the coffin for any other interests i had: i was locked into cherik and x-men in general now)

that clip specifically, i was surprised at the fact they- frequently even- have the x-men franchise say erik loves charles and vice versa so bluntly. even if it's not meant to be romantic, i fear im just a fan of how casually the word's thrown around with them two and i got tender bout it all. Then Yk. i just live for the drama. the hilarity even. the sincerity .... they make me sick if i think of them too long so im gonna end it here

before i go tho ironically enough, the first x-men issue i owned was This one (story a this is that while stuck in some wacko dimension charles accidentally gets himself trapped in logan's mind while utilizing his astral projection. if you were curious). pretty sure i got it for free with another comic set i got years ago since our old comic shop loved to do that, but it's poetic aint it. maybe ill doodle something referencing it..

i should probably look into finishing this arc someday im Dummy curious to even know how it started and how it ends.....

[delicateconstitution]

i know in my first post about him i was sort of bargaining about it, despite adoring his character design in general, but i like, fully, unironically, 100%, genuinely, completely think he's just Beautiful now even with his ridiculous facial hair and teeth and whatever... like. Man. literally every single time i go to my gallery and stuff to keep watching or even just to get something else i'm like taken aback by how appealing and purely Beautiful he is to me. I stand by it completely. Sparkle on, its Monday!

[stargirlygirl]

when the condom gets stuck in you, so caleb fishes it out

soaked in sweat, you collapse onto the bed with a huff. from behind you, caleb chuckles while his hands pry your thighs apart.

“i gotta clean you up, pips,” he pants.

“mhmm,” you hum as you grab a strewn pillow and snuggle into it. your boyfriend’s blissed-out eyes narrow at the fluffy intruder taking his place.

his voice has an edge to it as he mutters, “be right back.” the mattress hugs your sole figure as you moan softly from the aftershocks of your nth orgasm tonight. the copper sheets rustle, and the bed dips as caleb returns with a damp towel in hand. he wipes up your pussy’s drool, knocking your clit in the process.

“caleb!” you squeal.

he grins, “sorry, honey,” while running the towel over your inner thighs. he then guides you onto your back and cleans your vulva properly. the coolness of the towel is refreshing, a nice contrast to caleb’s hot mouth and even hotter tongue. once he’s satisfied, the colonel starts wiping himself up.

but something’s missing!

he thought his cock was feeling a little too exposed when he was grabbing the towel, but didn’t bother to look down. now that he has, he realises the condom has vanished.

you’re in a daze, mewling quietly as your boyfriend overturns pillows and bunches up the sheets. the pillow is still in your clutch, keeping you safe as you journey back down from your high.

he nudges your leg unintentionally in his frantic search, making you whine, “calebbbb, what’re you doing?” not spotting the condom anywhere, he sucks in a sharp breath.

“pips,” he starts, his usual charisma gone. “the condom came off, and i can’t find it.”

“mhmm,” you sigh, shifting onto your side and adjusting your body to get cosy.

he places a hand on your hips and sways you gently, “pips, did you hear what i just said?”

“mhmm,” you reply. but, in fact, you did not hear him.

“don’t ‘mhmm’ me, baby. i can’t find the condom,” he says, frustrated.

“what?” you grumble tiredly. caleb rolls you onto your back again and pries the pillow from your grasp.

“i said,” he sighs, while chucking it amongst the mess that is his bed. “i can’t find the condom.” you rub your eyes, the worried look on his sweet features blinking into focus as you gaze around you.

“what do you mean you can’t find the condom?” you ask, your breath hitching in sudden panic. your puppy leans over you and cups your face before planting a smooch on your lips.

drawing back, he says in a calmer tone than before, “don’t stress, honey. i’m gonna find it, okay?” you nod with pouty lips, your fingers encircling his wrists.

he continues, “i think it’s still inside of you, baby.” your eyes widen as you stare at him like a deer in headlights.

“what?!” you exclaim, sitting up and shoving him off you. looking down at your pussy, you clench your walls, trying to locate the missing condom. you gaze up at caleb whose eyes are flickering between yours and your coochie.

you ramble, “i can’t feel anything out of the ordinary. are you sure it’s not around here?” he nods earnestly and places his hands on your shoulders.

giving them a light squeeze, he reassures you, “i promise you, honey. i’m gonna fix this.” he pushes you down gently and props your hips up on the same pillow he was glaring at moments ago. you whine as he spreads your legs wide, but before sinking between them, he perks up like a lost pup whose heard its owner’s voice.

“wait,” he says breathily. “let me google it.”

“caleb!” you call. he scrambles over you to grab his phone and starts typing away furiously. clicking on an article, he scrolls to the ‘how to remove a stuck condom’ section.

“okay,” he starts. “relax vaginal muscles. insert one or two fingers. fish out condom using a hook-like motion. try to push the condom out like a baby.”

“caleb,” you groan. setting the phone back down on his bedside table, your boyfriend kisses your forehead before dashing off to the bathroom to wash his hands. coming back, he positions himself between your thighs.

“alright, step one: try to relax,” he instructs, his breath fanning your pussy. your clit twitches as you clench, scared of what’s going to happen next.

“pips,” he says in that warning tone. “i know you’re worried, but you gotta relax and let me help you, okay?” you nod energetically and attempt to still your muscles.

he reminisces, “d’you remember the first time we had sex? you were clenching around me so tight, and i was trying so hard not to cum. honestly, it was like i’d died and gone to heaven—”

“caleb,” you grumble.

“right,” he grins sheepishly. “point is, you were sooooo nervous. but once we got into it, you were fine. this is similar.” you lift your head from your pillow and gaze down at him with a knot in your brow.

“this is not similar,” you ground out.

one hand rubs your hip soothingly as he replies, “it could be.”

you sigh, “baby, please,” as you slump on the bed. the mattress vibrates with your movement as the springs creak.

a few seconds of silence pass before caleb says cheekily, “now that you’re relaxed, we’re gonna move onto step two: mission ‘retrieve the lost condom’.” you groan as you cover your face with your hands.

“colonel xia, reporting for duty. soldier pipsqueak, prepare for insertion of two fingers,” he says in his military voice. you can’t help but laugh, feeling much more at ease as he prods your entrance.

“steady now, soldier. we wouldn’t want any sudden movements to jeopardise our mission, would we?” you shake your head and keep your hips stable as much as you can.

your colonel coos, “good work, soldier pipsqueak.” his long fingers slip in with little resistance. if anything, your gummy walls suck him in, hungry for the kind of pleasure only he can provide. his fingertips slide up your ridges, searching for the lost object.

after a minute or so, he stops.

glancing up at you, caleb grins, “it seems we’ve encountered a foreign object. brace yourself for turbulence, soldier.”

one second.

that’s all he gives you before his fingers start ‘hooking’ the condom. with his free hand, your boyfriend grabs yours and intertwines your fingers.

“now, push,” he commands.

“push?” you sputter.

“like you’re giving birth.”

“i’m not pregnant!” you say exasperated. his eyes sharpen as you feel him nudge your walls.

“you might be, pips, if i don’t get this condom out.” you whimper before following his orders. it’s strange, pushing but trying not to let anything slip out at the same time. this is enough of an accident and an embarrassment for one night, you don’t need another on your hands. well, his hands if you think about it–

“ugh, caleb,” you groan, feeling defeated as his fingers continue fishing around in your hole.

“almost there, soldier. i’ve got a firm hold on our target. just one more push,” he murmurs.

“for love of—” you push again, and finally, caleb’s fingers slide out, the slick, crumpled condom between them.

you sigh, your body melting as he tosses it in the trash bin. climbing up your frame, he peppers kisses all over your face before landing one right on your lips. you moan into his mouth while cupping his jaw, so glad that uncomfortable predicament has been dealt with.

breaking the kiss, ropes of spit connect your lips as your colonel grins all goofy. his sunset eyes twinkle in the warm lamplight, and his hair is ruffled. you giggle and yank him down on top of you. he cries out as your bodies slam together, your nose already nuzzling his neck.

“pips,” he mumbles into your ear.

you exhale, “i’d say that our mission’s complete, wouldn’t you, colonel xia?” he chuckles breathily into your warm skin and inhales your sweaty-sweet scent.

“thanks for trusting me, soldier,” caleb says tenderly while flipping you two around. he grabs the blankets and hikes them over your bodies, all the way up to your chin. then, he rests one hand on your upper back and the other on the back of your head, stroking your hair gently.

you sigh contentedly, “always, baby.” in his loving embrace, you fall asleep while caleb thinks about the plan b he’s going to buy you before you wake up tomorrow morning.

presenting it to you mid-teeth brushing, you spit out the foamy toothpaste and challenge him, “maybe we should try it raw next time?” his self-restraint only lasts until you swallow down the little pill. then, he’s pouncing on you and dragging you back to bed for part two.

embarrassing/gone wrong sex moments m.list full m.list

[urvampygf]

JUST A FAVOR

( Bsf!Chris x Inexperienced!Reader ) when chris finds out that reader has never been pleasured by a man before, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3 / Pt. 3.5

-`✮´- 4.1k

contains. flirting, making out, teasing, hickeys, fingering, pussy eating.

The soft patter of rain against her apartment window serves as a soothing backdrop as Y/N wipes away her makeup. The day had been exhausting—her car stubbornly refusing to start, followed by an endless stream of exams, and finally, sitting through an hour-long conversation with her friends about their latest hookups and messy situationships. It wasn’t that she minded hearing about their experiences; it just felt… repetitive.

Y/N, though, couldn't relate those stories. She was a virgin—not totally untouched, but a virgin nonetheless. The thought lingered, making her feel like an outcast. She wasn’t naive—she’d tried a little of this and a little of that in the past, but never the “real thing.” Even though it's not usually something she'd dwell on, she still felt as though she was falling behind, that most women her age had already been there done that, leaving her in their wake.

Safe to say, Y/N was beyond exhausted, begging for the comfort of her bed. She snuggled under the covers, the warmth settling in as she began to relax. Just as she was about to drift off, a ding from her phone broke the comfortable silence, causing her to squint an eye open. A groan escaped her lips as she rolled over, burying her face into the pillow below her as she reaches for the phone on her nightstand.

It was a text from Chris, her best friend, which read, “u ready for movie night?”

Fuck. She’d totally forgotten she promised him they’d watch some random, cheesy movie together.

With a sigh, Y/N typed out a quick reply, the screen glowing dimly in the darkness. “I don’t feel like driving 😓😓”

She bit her lip as she waited, watching the little animated dots bounce up and down in the silence. A new message popped up: “want me to come over instead?”

Y/N hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen for a moment. “could u? sorry, im just tired."

“sure :)” The reply came almost instantly.

Relieved, she tossed the phone back onto the nightstand as she hopped out of bed, deciding the oversized sweater and booty shorts she would usually sleep in aren’t quite appropriate for the occasion. After changing into pajama pants and a snug baby tee, she gently plays with her hair, double checking that it's not messy from lying in bed. Satisfied, she shuffles over to her small living room, plopping onto the couch and opening TikTok to pass the time while waiting for Chris.

It’s only a few minutes before her phone buzzes with a text from him—he’s here. Y/N opens the door to find Chris standing there, damp, his hair flopped over his eyes.

“The snacks are soaked,” he mumbles, a jokingly childish pout forming on his lips.

Y/N rolls her eyes, stepping aside to let him in. “You didn’t have to bring snacks… I’ve got plenty.”

Chris shrugs, looking down at the plastic grocery bag. “Yeah, well, you don’t have good snacks.”

“I have good snacks,” she responds mockingly with a smile, locking the door behind him.

He pulls out a package of goldfish and gushers, shaking his head. “No, you don’t. You like boring, healthy shit.”

“Whatever you say,” she grins, motioning for him to sit beside her as she settles on the couch.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The movie is playing, but neither of them really care for it. It’s just background noise for their chatter. Chris grumbles about his brothers, and Y/N rambles about college—though she keeps the real reason she’s feeling off to herself. Chris knows her too well, though, and not even the smallest shift in her mood goes unnoticed by him.

“What’s wrong, kid?” he asks gently, his tone softening.

“It’s nothing, m’okay.” she says, forcing a small smile, but Chris isn’t buying it. He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

Y/N sighs, the weight of her thoughts pressing on her. She finally blurts it out, “I’m just… always listening to my friends’ hookup stories. And it’s—ugh—it just… bothers me.”

Chris shifts on the couch, leaning in a little closer as he chuckles lightly, his expression full of curiosity. “Why does that bother you? I’ve told you shit like that before.”

Y/N’s heart rate quickens as she feels a wave of embarrassment spread through her. Her hands fidget in her lap. “Be-cauuuse…” she stammers, struggling to find the words. “I can’t—like, I can’t relate to any of it. Makes me feel like a loser.”

Her usual laid-back attitude has completely vanished, replaced by the tension of her embarrassment. Chris stares at her for a moment, his brow furrowing, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. Then, his face relaxes as realization hits, his eyes darting away for a second before locking back onto hers.

“You never told me you were a virgin,” Chris teases, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Y/N squints her eyes. “Chris—don’t start.”

“Alright, alright,” he says, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

A beat of silence hangs between them, and then Chris leans in a bit, curiosity piqued. “So, whatcha waiting for?”

“Whaddaya mean?”

“Like, why haven’t you?”

Y/N sighs, shifting to face Chris. “That shit’s scary," she responds with a nervous giggle.

Chris lets out a quiet, amused breath through his nose. “What’s scary about it?” he asks casually.

She exhales sharply, her voice growing more animated. “Getting with the wrong guy, getting used, and, oh I dunno, pregnancy. Shall I continue?”

Chris’s smile falters as he registers her words. “Alright, fair. But the right guy isn’t gonna just like fall into your lap.”

“True..” she trails off, her tone a bit more casual, albeit still embarrassed. “But most of the guys I’m interested in are, like… fuck boys; Body count of twenty, can't remember your name, that kinda shit.”

“That’s your own fault,” Chris retorts with a teasing grin, dodging the playful shoulder punch she throws his way.

Y/N scoffs, but they both settle into a comfortable silence, their attention drifting back to the movie.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“That was butt booty ass low-key,” Y/N states as the movie ends, pushing herself off the couch to toss the empty popcorn bowl in the sink.

Chris glances up from his phone, unfazed. “Meh, it wasn’t that bad.”

He scrolls through his notifications, not too concerned about the movie’s quality.

Y/N returns, plopping back onto the couch next to him and stretching her arms overhead. “…What’s it like?” she asks suddenly, her voice softer than usual.

“Huh?” Chris looks up from his phone, locking it and setting it aside face down on the couch.

“Like… your first time,” she trails off, her eyes drifting away.

Chris chuckles, tilting his head slightly. “Still thinkin' 'bout that, huh?” He turns his body to face her, a teasing grin on his lips.

Y/N shrugs, her gaze shifting shyly. “Um… well, it was awkward as shit, but… it was nice,” he admits casually, as if he’s talking about any old memory. “Do you ever regret it?”

Chris shakes his head, thinking for a second. “Nah, I was clueless, but it wasn’t bad for a first time. Why you askin'?”

Y/N hesitates, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “…Jus’… I don’t know,” she mutters meekly.

Chris tilts his head, considering her for a moment before speaking up. “I know you’re a virgin, but… you’re not like totally inexperienced, right?”

Y/N hesitates for a second before answering. “Well—no, but it’s been a while.”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “What’ve you done, then?”

Y/N takes a moment to think. “I’ve… given head before, and a handjob.”

Chris leans back against the arm of the couch, his expression shifting as he processes that. “So you've never like- received?” He cringes at his phrasing, having attempted to soften it yet only making it more awkward.

Y/N nods, her eyes downcast. “Yeah. I’m too embarrassed to let anyone see me like that.”

Chris lets out a small “huh,” as if processing the vulnerability in her words. He then continues, a little gentler this time. “How long has it been?”

“…Four years.”

“Damn!” Chris exclaims, caught off guard, then quickly clears his throat to cover up his slightly inappropriate reaction. “Sorry...”

Y/N looks away, her voice quiet as she explains, “It’s not that I haven’t had the chance… I was just too scared.”

Chris shifts closer, his hand resting gently on her knee. “Don’t be scared,” he says softly, his tone serious now. “It’s not somethin' worth stressin' over.”

Y/N glances down at Chris’s hand resting on her knee. Normally, it would be a comforting gesture, but with the direction of the conversation, all it does is bring a flush to her cheeks.

Chris notices immediately, picking up on her shy demeanor. He suppresses a smug grin, eyes squinting playfully. “Ya alright there?”

Y/N looks up, her tone sharp and accusing. “Chris, you’re doing this on purpose.”

Chris breathes out a laugh, a proud look settling in. “I wasn’t… but I am now.”

Without hesitation, he slides his hand higher, gently moving towards her thigh.

Y/N’s voice betrays her unamused warning. “Chris.” She tries to sound disinterested and stern, but all that comes out is a nervous edge.

Chris leans in slightly, his gaze intense, though his tone remains teasing. “You wanna try somethin' out?”

Y/N’s eyes widen, her heart skipping a beat. “What are you hinting at?” Her words come out softly, betraying her shock.

He doesn’t break eye contact, his expression softer now. “Maybe not the first, but I could give you a first.”

The air between them thickens. Y/N swallows hard, trying to keep her composure. “Are you asking to, like- ya know...” She can't bring herself to actually say the words, embarrassed at the thought of his implication.

Chris shrugs nonchalantly, though there’s something serious in his eyes. “Why not?”

“You’d do that?… Like—it wouldn't be weird?”

“Why would it be weird?” His voice is steady, but there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes as he scoots closer.

She swallows, her gaze shifting down to her lap. “I… I don’t know…” The words barely leave her lips, quieter than she intended, laced with uncertainty.

"You don't gotta be so nervous, it's alright." Chris reassures through subtle laughter, shifting his hand from her thigh to her waist.

Y/N sighs through her nose. "Are we really doing this?..." She whispers breathlessly, her eyes gentle as she looks up at her friend.

"Only if you want to..." He responds lazily as he leans in, hovering his lips over hers.

She manges to get out a shy hum of permission, causing Chris to let an amused breath out of his nose. "Use your words," Chris taunts as he grins against her parted lips.

"I want this"

"Atta' girl" Chris mumbles before closing the gap between them, capturing her in a gentle but passionate kiss.

Y/N lets out a small gasp before slowly melting into the kiss. Her movements are hesitant and lacking confidence, allowing Chris to take the lead. The fear of not doing good enough for him creeps into the back of her mind, making her hesitate. Noticing her uncertainty, Chris gently pulls away, his gaze soft as he meets her nervous eyes.

“Ya alright?” he asks, his voice gentle with concern as he brushes his thumb against her neck.

"M'nervous... sorry," she responds, averting her eyes from him.

Chris drags his hand from her neck to her cheek. "Relax, I gotchu," He mumbles as he dives back in, a bit hungrier this time. Y/N quietly moans against his lips as they attack hers, gentle enough to not overwhelm her as it's clear he's holding back.

His hand travels down to rest at her waist, pulling her closer to him. The kiss becomes sloppier the longer it goes on, neediness building up in Y/N as restraint breaks down in Chris.

If Chris could get what he wanted, he'd take her right here on this couch; but he cares too much about making this perfect for her to ever so much as attempt it.

He pulls away to catch his breath, eyes softening as she looks up at him. Her flushed cheeks, the wetness of her plump lips, those fucking needy eyes. Everything about the sight makes his body grow hot and his pants feel uncomfortably tighter.

"Fuck.. you look so hot," He whispers breathlessly, shamelessly pulling her onto his lap with ease. Y/N's eyes widen as her hands fly to his chest in an attempt to steady herself. Chris's hands fall to her hips, searching her face for any hint of uncertainty. "I wan' make you feel good.." He mumbles as he ghosts his fingers along her sides, following the curvature of her body.

Y/N sighs as she drops her head against his shoulder, screwing her eyes shut to compose herself. "Ya killin' me Chris," her breath fans against Chris's neck when she speaks, sending shivers down his spine. He teases with a cocky tone to his voice, "I haven't even done anything yet."

"Shut up" Y/N lifts her head from his shoulder and flashes a shy smile at him, her face hot with embarrassment.

Chris tilts his head and leans in to pepper soft kisses to her jaw, smiling against her skin. Her mouth hangs open, allowing a sigh to escape her lips as he trails his own down her neck; his hand's gentle grip on either side of her jaw tilts her head to the side, allowing him better access.

Chris chuckles against her neck, his breath fanning against the delicate skin causing her to shudder.

"Ever been marked up?" He questions, not allowing her enough time to answer before he sucks a hickey into her neck, eliciting a whiny moan from her sweet lips. "N-no," She attempts to answer, her response coming out as more of a whimper than a statement.

Chris detaches from her neck, pulling away with a grin. "Now ya have," he states proudly, licking a stripe over the forming bruise and planting soft kisses on the skin.

Y/N shuffles on his lap, prompting a low groan to escape from the back of Chris's throat. "Fuck- don't do that," he warns, gripping her hips tighter to plant her in place. Chris looks up at her with pleading eyes, practically begging her to quit squirming. Chris shifts slightly, the new angle allowing her to feel his hardening cock press against his sweats.

Y/N's eyes widen, feeling heat rush to her cheeks. Chris gently rolls his hips up experimentally, dragging out a small gasp from Y/N's throat. "Can't wait any more, need ya so bad," He murmurs, lazily dragging hot kisses across her neck. Chris moves her off of his lap as he shifts on the couch, placing a hand on her outter thigh and leaning in for another kiss.

He runs his hand across her thigh, growing closer and closer to her heat. "You okay with this?" Chris mumbles a lazy ask of consent against her lips, satisfied when she gives him a head nod of agreement. He cups her, running a finger along her clothed folds. Y/N lets out quiet sigh against his plump lips; the corners of them twitching up into a grin.

Chris hastily dips his hand under the waistband of her panties, his finger quickly being covered in her arousal. He rubs lazy circles on her clit, earning a soft whimper as she throws her head back against the back of the couch.

"So fuckin' wet f'me." he mumbles before diving into her neck.

"F-fuck Chris."

"Yeah?" He mocks, a teasing tone in his voice.

Chris has already had enough of this; he wants to taste her. Y/N gets the memo when he removes his hand from her pants and lifts it up to his mouth, licking every drop of her juices of off his finger. He looks down at her with needy eyes, anticipating her consent.

“…Please, Chris…” she finally gives in.

Chris wastes no time in yanking her pants down her legs, his eagerness drawing a sharp gasp from Y/N. The sound makes him pause, eyes flicking up to meet her amused yet shocked gaze. His lidded eyes soften as he realizes just how desperate he seems.

A breathy laugh escapes him, his head dropping in embarrassment. A hint of shame lingers in his smile as his hands settle on either side of her thighs, steadying himself over her.

“Sorry…” he chuckles, still looking down, his grin sheepish.

Y/N lifts a hand to his hair, twirling a strand between her fingers as she fights back a giggle.

Chris lets out an embarrassed huff of air, lifting his head just enough to meet her eyes.

“Needy, much?” she taunts, a proud smile on her lips.

His tongue presses into the inside of his cheek as he rolls his eyes. “Don’t start with me,” he mutters, shaking his head.

Before she can fire back, his hands grip her hips, shifting her beneath him in one smooth motion. She giggles as her back meets the couch, her head resting against the armrest, his body hovering just above hers.

Chris tugs her pants the rest of the way off, tossing them aside without a second thought.

His eyes dart up to meet hers, catching the playful glint in her eyes where nervousness and hesitation once lingered. He fights back a smile, determined to play it cool as his hands slide up her waist, fingers grazing the warm skin.

His thumbs push the soft fabric of her shirt higher, gliding over her ribs until they pause just beneath her breasts.

Chris glances up at her once more, his eyes silently asking for permission.

Y/N bites her lip before offering a tentative nod, her lashes fluttering shut.

His gaze drops back down to her torso as he runs his tongue along his bottom teeth, the muscle pressing against the inside of his lip. With slow precision, he eases her shirt higher, the snug fabric resisting as it stretches over the curve of her chest.

Chris sucks in a breath at the sight of her, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip.

“No bra?” he teases, his voice low and playful, watching as Y/N’s face flushes. His hand moves to her soft chest, gently squeezing as his gaze lingers.

His thumb traces lightly over her sensitive nub, causing a small gasp to escape her lips. Y/N screws her eyes shut, turning her head to the side as her face flushes with embarrassment.

Chris lets out a soft chuckle as he leans down. His lips brush against her chest, the touch light, almost like a whisper. He moves slowly, deliberately, letting his lips linger as they travel lower, each kiss adding to the ache in her core.

He pauses just above the waistband of her panties, his breath warm against her skin. The air feels heavier, thick with anticipation, as he stays there for a moment longer than necessary, savoring the tension.

He presses his knee between her legs, gently pushing them apart to make space for himself. With a firm grip, he hooks his hands beneath her thighs, bending her knees and spreading her even further.

His fingers move to push her panties aside, lips brushing over her core with feather-light kisses, just enough to tease her. Chris focuses on her clit, the place he knows she needs him most, but each peck is soft—too soft to fully satisfy her.

Pulling away from her, his eyes lock onto her glistening folds. He sighs at the view. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this…” His voice is heavy, breathless, as he tugs her panties the rest of the way off, lifting her legs onto his shoulders.

Y/N’s breath hitches, her chest rising and falling with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. She bites her lower lip, eyes fluttering shut as a shiver runs down her spine.

Chris's tongue slowly laps over her heat, saliva mixing with arousal as he gently licks up every last bit of her, savoring the taste. Y/N’s hand meets his head, fingers burying themselves in his brown locks, gripping a little too hard as if to steady herself. Her breath quickens as she throws her head back, the pull on his hair matching the need coursing through her.

Chris groans against her, grinding his hips into the couch to somewhat relieve the ache of his hard cock. Countless soft mewls spill from Y/N’s lips, but it isn’t until a breathy, strained whimper of his name escapes her throat that he finally loses control.

All restraint gets tossed aside in his mind as he fully dives in, devouring her with undeniable hunger; as if he’s finally allowing himself everything he’s been holding back.

"F-fuck Chris.." She whimpers out, biting her hand to quiet her noises, an attempt to save herself from embarrassment. His eyes travel up to her face as he licks and sucks at her needy cunt, his eyes dark with need. He pulls away from her for a brief moment, his ragged breathing matching hers as the string of saliva between them connects him to her puffy pussy. Y/N whines in frustration as she looks down at him, lips just inches away from her drooling core.

“Stop covering ya mouth. Need to hear ya… I wanna hear ya.” Chris says softly, his voice at odds with the teasing nature of his actions.

Y/N complies, mumbling a whiny apology. She stares down at him—God, he looks so fucked out. She probably looks more so, but that thought barely registers. His lips are swollen, pink, slick with her juices. His low eyes beam with want—like he needs this

He dives in again, needing to taste her pussy; craving it even more than watching her needy face. When Y/N squirms, he grips her hips, holding her still.

"mm- Chris!-.. ffuuucckk.."

Chris stifles a chuckle as his mouth licks and suckles at her cunt, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into her hip while his other hand holds underneath her thigh. One of her legs has now fallen off his shoulder, hanging over the edge of the couch; It’s probably not the most attractive position, but neither of them care enough to notice.

Chris quickens his movements when he feels her shudder, her body tensing as her breath turns ragged.

"Chris- m’close…” Y/N mumbles, her words so slurred even she barely understands them—but Chris does.

“Ya gonna cum f’me, pretty girl? So soon?” He teases, his voice heavy with lust, murmuring against her wet cunt.

Y/N lets out a weak chuckle that slips into a moan. "Shut up," she breathes, her teasing tone getting lost in needy whines.

Her body trembles she begins to break down, skin burning with need. Chris’s movements turn quick and sloppy. His focus shifts to her sensitive bud, his pointed tongue flicking and swirling over her clit.

"ah-ahnn-.. fuuuck- Chris!" Her voice hitched, a soft, broken sound, as his tongue gently continued, guiding her through her high.

"Shiiiiiit.." Y/N’s eyes flutter shut in bliss, her brows knitting as she parts her lips, dragging in a shaky breath.

Chris’s movements only slow when she flinches away, the relentless stimulation overwhelming her. He licks up the last traces of her slick, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Carefully, he eases her leg off his shoulder, giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze before settling above her.

"Ya alright baby?" Chris teases softly, a sexy tone in his voice. The rising and falling of Y/N's chest calms down, and her eyes finally squint open. "God, yes.."

He rests his body weight on her, making his very noticeable bulge poke against her inner thigh. "You okay?" Y/N asks softly, her hand tracing down his torso.

Chris shakes his head in response, gently griping her wrist and moving her hand away from his groin. "Don't worry 'bout me, it'll go down."

“You sure?..” Y/N asks, confusion flickering across her face as he pretty much turns down a handjob.

He nods subtly, then climbs off her and sits himself back on the couch, casually lifting her shaky legs into his lap.

“Yeah.. today’s all about you. Some other time, maybe.” His voice low as he rubs her thigh with a gentle palm, a smug little smirk playing on his lips as he looks over at her.

a/n: first ever fic thingy.. kinda nervy🌝 i literally teased this like 2 months ago and then never posted it cuz i got too scared to WHOOPSSSS SORRYYYY😓 but in all seriousness hope you enjoyed, got off to this or whatever u do when reading, thx for checking me out !! if u have any suggestions or constructive criticism i welcome it with open arms, lemme know if u want more from me and thx for reading !!🥰

dividers: all me!! feel free to use, they're just lines and emoticons after all, nothin fancy😭

©.urvampygf

[guppiechuu]

swim ˙⋆✮ l.h. — the water's getting colder, let me in your ocean, swim.

stoner!heeseung x fem!reader

this is so super inspired by @sleepyhoon's plug!heeseung oneshot, which you can read here. I return to it daily. Omfg. Thank you for your service.

length: 3.9k

contains: smut (minors dni), soft dom!heeseung, use of drugs and alcohol, stoner heeseung and reader, dry humping, oral (f!rec), fingering, Heeseung watches reader masturbate while he rolls up, unprotected sex, dirty talk, multi orgasm, pie of cream 👅

synopsis: if heeseung hadn't been high, he might have been a little smarter about letting you come over drunk after a party. but what can he say? everybody has their vices, and who is he to deny you yours?

tl;dr — reader comes over after getting drunk at a party and crawls right into her best friend’s lap :P

⤷ chuu's 💌 ── .✦ dedicated to my soulmate my best friend my domestic life partner my smoke soldier my nightly sesh buddy. may we find our hot stoner boyfriends soon (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾

——

Heeseung was already faded when you texted him.

It was post-smoke—sprawled on top of his bed, sweats low on his hips, skin still slightly damp from his shower. A rather calm Friday night for him considering he was usually out most weekends.

The second half of a joint sat waiting on the edge of the ashtray, but he was distracted by his phone buzzing, your name popping up on his screen.

Y/N hee u up?

He tucked the joint between his lips as he read the texts.

You were at a party, one that he'd been invited to but decided to skip. You’d complained about it earlier—“who’s gonna watch me if I get drunk?”—your lip jutting out in a pout that made him instantly second-guess his decision.

You were just friends.

But fuck, he was wrapped around your finger.

Heeseung yeah what's up trouble

He leaned his head against his shoulder as he watched your text bubble appear and disappear, picturing you all too easily: drunk in the crowd of some house party, the hem of your skirt riding up your thighs as you moved, the length of your legs below.

Fuck. He wasn't mad about an early night in, but he was totally regretting not going out with you. Being the guy that you stood way too close to while you talked. Getting to stare down the mindless frat bros who were always trying to approach you.

You were probably talking to one now—just to spite him, if nothing else. You’d truly been pissed that he stayed home, and you both knew Heeseung was the jealous type.

Even if you were just friends.

Still, he felt a small sense of pride at the fact that you were at that party, no doubt surrounded by guys who definitely wanted to fuck you, busy texting him.

Y/N yay youre awake! i hate you

Heeseung good to know you're having a good time

Y/N you said u might come :(((( everyone kept asking where u were I had to tell them all how lame you are

He couldn't help but smile at how whiny you were, always clingy after a night out.

Heeseung wow that sounds really hard 🙁 i'm so sorry u had to go through that

Y/N thank you :( it was really sad u miss me?

Heeseung little bit u drunk?

Y/N mmaaybee can i come over don't wanna go home yet

Heeseung exhaled through his nose, letting his head fall back against the wall.

You were so predictable.

And he was so bad at saying no to you.

Heeseung sure baby doors open His joint was still lit between his teeth when he heard the door. His head was swimming, senses dulled in just the right way when you burst into his room, dropped your bag to the floor, and crawled eagerly into his lap.

He forgot about the blunt in his lips temporarily—inhaling sharply as you clamored over him, legs on either side of his, fingers digging into his shirt.

Heeseung had to fight a cough as he pulled the joint from his mouth, holding it away with one hand and grabbing onto your waist with the other, keeping you steady.

"Missed you," You said breathily. Oh, you were drunk. Pouty, clingy, and shamelessly handsy. Your fingers skirted up his chest as you rambled, your thighs squeezing his legs. "Why didn't you come tonight? I looked so hot, like seven different people told me so, and you weren't even there to see."

He took a stuttering breath, trying not to think about the way your body was pressing against him.

You squirmed in his lap, hips digging into his as you clawed closer to him. He hissed, both hands flying to your waist to try and keep you still.

It was no use.

"I didn't know you cared if I saw," He said, his voice lower than he meant it to be, rough from the burn of smoke in his throat and the way your hips were grinding lazily into his.

“I don’t,” You lied, your nose brushing his jaw. “But you should’ve. This guy kept trying to touch me—fucking perv. But I wanted it to be you."

Heeseung made a noise—half groan, half disbelief—and let his head fall back. You were dangerous like this. Sloppy and flirty and so fucking bold.

His heart jumped as you pressed your face into his neck, breathing in the smell of his soap.

"I didn't know that," He said, jaw clenched as your lips brushed his ear. “Should’ve told me, I would’ve been there.”

God, he was already hard in his sweatpants. And you could feel it. The way you were grinding your hips down on him—you could feel it all.

He pressed his thumb into the curve of your waist as he brought the joint back to his mouth, killing it with a final inhale. You mumbled into his skin before pulling back.

"Mmm, it's okay, I didn't— Wait, you're smoking?"

Heeseung hummed, cheeks hollowed.

"Can I have some?"

He held his breath as he spoke. "I just killed it—"

You leaned in, your breath hot on his lips. "I don't care."

Heeseung was too surprised to keep the smoke in his mouth. You kissed him messily, chasing the last remnants of his inhale as he dropped the roach onto his side table. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, sliding up the nape of his neck and tangling in his hair.

Heeseung stiffened, something like a moan scratching its way out of his throat. His hands went to your waist, sliding up your back to pull you tighter against him.

He could hardly believe what was happening. His mind was hazy, but all the sensations in his body had heightened. He tried not to shiver as your lips slid over his, tongue darting into the well of his mouth.

His dick was straining against his sweats now, throbbing with every pass your body made over his. It was too much—your flimsy little skirt bunched around your thighs, the slick of your underwear sliding over his cock, the breathy moans spilling from your lips.

He'd had no idea that you wanted him like this. And now that you were here, he could barely control himself from taking more.

"Y/n—" He started, trying to steady you. He could hardly get a word out, the way you were pressing your lips to his, whining into his mouth. “—you're drunk.”

You whined again, giving him a sharp tug to the back of his head. "And you're high," You argued, pushing your hips down roughly as if in protest.

Heeseung couldn't argue with that.

He groaned—deep, frustrated—as you rocked against him, chasing his lips with a neediness that made his head spin. His grip on your hips tightened, pushing you down where he was tense and aching for you.

“Fuck, y/n,” He breathed, voice cracking in the middle.

“Mmm, Hee,” You responded drowsily, lifting your head from his shoulder and giving him a knowing grin, your lip caught between your teeth.

You looked completely gone for him.

You rolled your hips again, slow and deliberate, and Heeseung’s head fell backward. His jaw clenched as you went for his exposed throat, your teeth catching on his skin, your tongue smoothing over the sting.

He’d never seen you like this—messy, rough, cock-drunk before you’d even gotten any. It took every ounce of strength not to flip you over and give you what you were so clearly begging for.

"Stay the night," He gasped out, holding your waist firmly against him as you rolled your hips. "Don't go home— stay here."

Your voice was laced with desire, taunting him. “But I gotta go, Heeseung, I have things to do.” You leaned back, tapping your chin as if thinking hard. “What should I use tonight? My dildo or my vibrator?”

He groaned, grabbing your ass and flipping you both over, settling between your legs with a low, thinly-controlled growl.

His stomach was already in knots. He could hardly contain himself.

How often had he thought about this exact moment? How many times had he fantasized about having you underneath him with his hand wrapped around his cock, biting down on his lip to keep himself from saying your name?

And now you were here—staring up at him with those glassy eyes, your hair splayed around your shoulders, chest heaving as you pulled him harder on top of you.

The feeling of your pussy through his sweatpants alone had him stuttering. When he reached a hand between you, fingers sliding under the fabric of your underwear to where you were hot and soaked, his brain practically short-circuited.

You let out a moan as his fingers slid between your folds, his wrist sinking into your thighs.

He watched hungrily as you opened your mouth, your head tossed back, body arching as he curled his fingers inside you. You were so hot like this, moans spilling from your lips, legs squeezing together.

“Fuck—look at you,” he muttered, voice low and greedy. “Falling apart on my fingers.”

Your hips bucked, a whimper caught in your throat.

“Is this what you needed?” He asked, leaning in, his breath hot against your neck. “Some attention? Is that why you came over—so I could remind you who you really want?”

You whined, eyes fluttering shut.

“Mm-mm” He said, curling his fingers again, rougher this time. “Eyes on me, baby. You wanted this—so take it.”

Your gaze met his, desperate, blown-out, and it nearly undid him.

“You know you drive me crazy?” He hooked his fingers inside you, making you gasp. “Every time you touch me—every little whine out of your mouth—you fucking kill me.”

Your breath hitched. “Heeseung—please—”

“Mhm,” He breathed, dragging his mouth along your jaw. “Keep saying my name like that.”

Heeseung kept his palm angled to give you something to grind against while he fingered you. This would’ve been enough—the sight of you panting, flushed in the face, body squirming as you came around his fingers—but he wasn’t done with you.

Not by a long shot.

Heeseung had always appreciated the way smoking allowed him to slow down. To take his time. To fully disappear into whatever he was working on.

And right now? That was you.

He teased another orgasm out of you, then another, and another. You were shaking, overstimulated, still rambling for more every time he pressed his fingers into your twitching cunt.

“Such a good girl,” Heeseung purred, eyes heavy from both the weed and the sight of you trembling, thighs squeezed around his hand.

His stomach flipped as you whined again, fingers scratching at his shoulders.

“What do you want, baby?” He asked.

You mumbled something.

“Use your words.”

“I— Can you roll me a joint?”

He paused. “What?”

“Pleeeaase, Hee? I didn’t get any.” You pouted, batting your eyes at him, the corners of your mouth quirking up.

He sighed inwardly. You were so fucking cute when you were drunk—it was practically impossible for him to say no to you. Especially not now that you were flat on his bed, hips still curling to meet his fingers, that look of insatiable desire still flashing in your eyes.

He’d have to fuck that out of you, he thought privately.

“Fine,” He said, getting to his feet. “I want you to touch yourself while I roll it.”

“What?” You sat up on your elbows, brows furrowed slightly.

“I want you to make yourself cum while I roll you a joint. Deal?”

Watching Heeseung’s hands work expertly over a blunt that would end up between your lips? Getting to watch him try and focus on rolling while you were moaning in front of him, distracting him with every twitch of your body?

You could hardly think of a better way to get free weed from your best friend.

But it was a rigged deal. Heeseung had rolled countless joints in his lifetime, and his fingers worked as deftly with his grinder and papers as they did in your pussy.

He wasn’t distracted. No, he watched you as casually as he might his TV while he rolled up.

And you were tired. Overstimulated. Never able to quite reach that spot that he could that had you falling apart on his fingers.

You were still squirming in frustration as he licked the blunt closed, eyes locked on the way your stomach contorted as you ground your hips into your hand.

“Still not finished?” He asked, standing to bring you the finished joint.

He knelt at the edge of the bed and handed it to you—holding the lighter for you to spark on, grazing your wrist with his teeth as you did.

He kept his eyes on you as he traveled down your body, lips brushing over your thigh and the inside of your knee.

You inhaled, throat burning as the smoke curled around the base of your lungs. You let out a sigh, shoulders slackening, legs falling open as Heeseung ran his hand up the inside of your thigh.

He didn’t look away once.

That was his blunt between your lips. His weed burning the back of your throat. And it was gonna be his cock you were finishing on by the end of the night, mark his words.

He brushed his lips against the inside of your thigh, earning a shiver from you.

“You’re not very good at following directions,” He said, his voice low, teasing. “Said I wanted to see you cum before I was done.”

You let your head fall back, exhaling slowly. “Your directions suck.”

His teeth grazed the inside of your thigh again, a little harder this time. A warning.

“Making me roll you a joint with my weed, and only cumming when I’m the one touching you. You using me or something?”

“Maybe.” You tilted your head back, smoke curling from your lips towards the ceiling. Heeseung’s eyes caught on your neck. You looked back at him, eyes shining. “You like it, though.”

He hummed, his breath ghosting over where you needed him most. You shivered again, your legs moving to squeeze shut, but he stopped you, holding your thighs apart with his hands.

“So greedy. Wonder if you take cock the way you take all my stuff.”

“Wanna find out?” You grinned, dragging another inhale into your lungs. Your body felt warm and heavy, like it might melt completely under his touch.

“I want you to finish that joint. And I wanna see you cum again.” His breath was hot on your core. "Don't like unfinished work.”

You groaned, eyes slipping shut as Heeseung pressed his tongue against your cunt. Your underwear was already soaked through, sticking to you like a second skin that he only had to peel back to reveal just how desperate you still were for him.

He kneaded your inner thighs with his thumbs as he ate you out, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing them aside. His tongue was soft and wet, dipping between your folds with a messy kind of hunger that had your thighs trembling.

Your head fell back, mouth open, a cracked moan escaping you as he pushed his tongue inside you, curling it up to circle your clit.

“Eyes on me, pretty,” He said, voice vibrating against your pussy. “I’m not fucking you until you finish that.”

You nodded obediently, sinking further and further into a state of dazed ecstasy.

It was almost too much—the sharp taste of smoke filling your mouth, the warm, slow descent into your high, the sensation of Heeseung’s lips sliding over your cunt.

He coaxed another orgasm out of you with wide, open-mouthed licks that left you panting, your fingers curled into his hair. You arched your back, bucking your hips into his mouth as your pussy clenched around his tongue.

He couldn’t tear his eyes off of you.

By the time you were done—with the joint and your climax—Heeseung was practically bursting out of his pants.

He bit the inside of your thigh roughly before getting up and pulling his sweats off.

His cock sprang up against his stomach, throbbing painfully at how long it had spent trapped beneath his briefs while you were practically drooling all over his sheets.

You gaped at him. He was big. Bigger than you’d expected. Bigger than you thought you had it in you to take.

But despite your brain’s reservations, your body twitched achingly, desperate to finally get him inside of you. No matter how long it took.

He leaned over you, pulling your skirt down your thighs, kissing his way up your stomach as he pushed your shirt over your head.

You were, what, four orgasms deep? And you still spread open for him like you hadn’t been touched all day.

He bent down to kiss your chest, pulling you towards him until your thighs rested against his, pussy twitching under his dick.

“Still with me?” He asked, voice rough, a little too desperate. God, he’d been waiting for this. His cock twitched painfully as he bumped up against you.

You nodded, barely. You were wrecked—eyes half-lidded, lips parted, fingers itching to get his shirt over his head.

He chuckled as he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside, kissing you again, slower this time, like he wanted you to taste every stroke of his tongue that had been between your legs.

His hands roamed down your body, fingers digging into the flesh at your waist, across your hips, gripping your thighs with a kind of aching desperation.

He exhaled slowly, trying to steady himself as he lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance. One wrong move and he’d be cumming before he got the chance to wreck you again.

And he couldn’t have that.

Heeseung brushed his nose against yours, unable to control the moan that clawed up his throat as he pushed inside of you.

You gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Heeseung—fuck, you’re too big— It’s not gonna fit—“

“It’ll fit,” He growled, pulling you down by the hip as he slid deeper inside. “You can take it, baby, just breathe.”

You moaned, arching up to meet him as he fit himself all the way inside you. “F-fuck, Hee—“

He groaned. “Good girl, y/n. Fuck—you feel so good.”

Your body felt like it was going to split open as he began moving, his cock dragging against your walls in the most terrible, irresistible way.

If Heeseung thought you were fucked-out before, it was nothing compared to the way you were now.

Your brows furrowed, pretty moans spilling from your lips, your fingers raking down his chest as your thighs squeezed him on either side.

You planted your feet on the mattress, angling your hips so that every thrust of his pressed right up against your clit.

Your senses were dull and sharp at the same time. Your mind bounced back and forth between racing through every fantasy you’d ever had about Heeseung and being completely and utterly blank.

And Heeseung? Heeseung was on the brink. His breath stuttered as he jutted his hips into yours, mind completely empty but for the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of you.

He grew desperate, and rough, spreading your thighs open to get at you from a deeper angle.

You whimpered, nails digging into his hips as he sank further into you—bottoming out with a throaty groan.

“Heeseung—“ You gasped, “You’re so big. Fuck—you’re gonna break me in half.”

“Uh-uh.” He shook his head, bending to watch every tantalizing change to your perfect face. “No, baby, you’re doing great. Always knew you could take it. From the moment I met you—knew you’d take my cock fucking perfect.”

His words were like a drug, adding to the already intense sensation of weed and alcohol-induced bliss swirling around your head.

Your body rocked as he fucked you harder, thighs slapping against the back of yours. You were exhausted, sticky with arousal, almost completely spent. But Heeseung slid into you like he’d been waiting to get his hands on your body all his life.

“Hee—fuck, I’m— Ah! Please don’t stop. Please. Please— Heeseung.”

He drank your begging in like water, dragging his tongue up the length of your neck as you began to stutter around him.

Fuck, he was struggling to hold on.

He couldn’t come yet. He’d been so patient, waited for so long—surely, he could wait just a little more.

Just until you were creaming his cock. Screaming his name. Then he could let go.

“Come on, y/n, say my name,” He growled, driving his hips into yours with half-restrained desperation. “Who do you come home to fuck at the end of the night? I wanna hear you say it.”

“Y-you— fuck! You, Heeseung. I wanna fuck you. Wanted to fuck you this whole time.”

He moaned, fingers bunching in his sheets as his hips stuttered, trying to hold back, trying to keep it contained.

But you clenched around him, your voice cracking with a slew of pretty, filthy moans as you came and it was game fucking over.

Heeseung’s throat scratched as he whimpered, the tension in his stomach suddenly snapping.

"Fuck, baby, fuckfuckfuck—"

He dug his fingers into you, tried to stifle his moans by biting the skin at the crook of your neck, but it was no use.

He was a shaking, moaning, whining mess at the feeling of finally—finally—getting to finish inside you.

You seized under him, his name spilling from your mouth over, and over, and over, until you collapsed back against his mattress. Completely gone.

The air was heavy, thick with smoke and heat and sex. Heeseung could feel your heart beating against his chest, thrumming like you’d just run a full marathon.

Sweat clung to your skin. Your breath came in shallow, shaky pulls.

He was still buried inside you, head resting against your shoulder, arm wrapped around your waist like he needed to hold you together—to hold himself together.

“Shit,” He muttered, his chest heaving.

You felt it in your chest—the way his voice cracked slightly, the weight of how fucking badly he’d wanted you finally crashing down on him.

You curled a hand behind his neck, threading your fingers through the damp hair at the nape of his neck.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you—his eyes dark, blown-out, glassy from the weed and the sensation of you still pulsing around him.

“You okay?” He asked quietly, fingers brushing against the side of your neck.

You nodded, dazed. “Are you?”

He huffed a quiet laugh, head dropping to your chest. “Not even a little.”

He shifted, pulling out gently, hands soothing up your thighs as if in apology for the way he’d wrecked you over the past few hours.

The high still clung to you both—lazy, floaty, slightly surreal—as he collapsed beside you, skin shining with sweat.

You turned toward him, propping yourself up on your stomach as he reached a lazy arm under you.

“I think we just fucked being friends up forever,” You murmured, admiring the look of him—sweaty, exhausted, spent.

Heeseung let out a laugh. “Maybe,” He said. “Don’t give a fuck, though. Not even a little bit.”

[j0shuahongs]

Say It Again

summary: just mark malfunctioning

pairing: mark lee x female reader

genre / tags: fluff, smut, slight humor, established relationship

warnings: explicit sexual content, fingering, soft dom!mark, praise kink / pet name kink, lots of pet names, and overuse of the word "baby". (please tell me if i missed some!)

wc: 2.7k

a/n: this was supposed to be a very cute and fluffy fic but I got carried away (whoops) 🤭

You’re not a pet name type of person. You tease him for using them. Roll your eyes every time he says babygirl or sweetheart or honey. Always hit him with:

— “Okay, Romeo. Relax.” — or a dry “Gross.”

You’re smiling, though. Every single time.

He knows you are. Doesn’t even need to look up anymore — just hears the edge of your voice, catches the tiniest upturn in your mouth, and it makes his chest ache. This is just who you are. You love him with your whole heart. But anything too mushy? Too sweet? Makes you squirm. Too cheesy? Too sentimental? You’d rather set yourself on fire.

You fold his laundry, steal his hoodies, and kiss his forehead every morning— but call him baby? God forbid.

So he gave up on expecting anything back. Not in a sad way — more like muscle memory now. A quiet acceptance.

Mark knows his role — he’s the nickname guy, you’re the pet-name grump.

He calls you angel when you look sleepy. Pretty girl when you’re mad at him. Darling when you’re sick and curled up in bed, nose pink and pouty.

You just shake your head and mutter, “You’re so embarrassing.” But you never tell him to stop.

He’s accepted it. Doesn’t need the words. He has all the proof he needs in the way you touch him, look at him, reach for his hand under the table even when you're pretending to be annoyed. He’s already so gone for you, it’s pathetic.

But then.

One day.  

No warning.  

You're in the middle of conversation, half-distracted, elbow-deep in a crinkly paper bag of fries, when you say it.

“Wait, can you pass me that? Thanks, baby.”

Just like that. Casual. Offhanded. As if you didn’t just drop a nuclear bomb onto his entire existence.

Silence.

You don’t even register it. Just keep rustling through your food, completely unaware of the spiritual event you’ve triggered behind you.

Mark freezes.

Hand halfway extended, holding the takeout container like it’s sacred scripture.

His whole body stills. Eyes wide. Jaw slack.

Soul... buffering.

“...What,” he breathes. “What did you just call me?”

You glance over your shoulder, chewing.

“Huh?”

He blinks. Slowly. Like he’s trying to reboot.

“You said—”

His voice cracks. “You said baby.”’

You shrug, lips full of noodles.

“Oh. Did I?”

“Did I??” he echoes, horrified. “Do you even understand what you’ve done?!”

You pop a spring roll into your mouth, already focused on unsealing the dipping sauce.

“Relax, Mark. It just slipped out.”

And that’s when he absolutely short-circuits.

“SLIPPED OUT?!”

He clutches his chest like he’s been mortally wounded. Slumps against the back of the chair with the drama of a soap opera lead.

“I need to sit down—wait, I am sitting. Then why do I feel like I’m gonna faint?”

You snort into your drink, nearly choking on a sip of iced tea.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m writing this down,” he rambles, hand now scrabbling blindly for his phone. “I’m journaling this. This is the highlight of my fucking life. Our future kids are hearing this story.”

“Mark. You’re crying.”

“I’M NOT—crying—I’m just—emotionally compromised.”

You shake your head, grinning into your food like an idiot, while across from you Mark stares at the ceiling in silent, reverent awe. Like he’s just heard the voice of God.

Later that night, you’re sprawled on the couch, stomach full, brain slow. Wrapped in post-dinner haze and the sound of the TV droning low in the background. One leg draped over the armrest, your hand resting lazily on your belly like a satisfied cat.

Mark’s on the other end, curled into himself, hoodie wrinkled, sleeves shoved up to his elbows as he wages war with a stubborn snack bag. His tongue pokes out in concentration, brows furrowed, completely unaware that you’re watching him like he’s the most endearing thing you’ve ever seen.

You pass behind the couch to grab your drink, then pause —

just long enough to lean down, press a soft kiss to the crown of his head, and murmur:

“Thanks, baby.”

You don’t even look back. Just grab your drink like it’s nothing.

But behind you—something shifts.

You make it three steps before it hits you.

Mark hasn’t moved.

You glance back.

He’s frozen. Snack bag in hand, half-open, arms slack. He’s staring ahead, not blinking—like someone just whispered the secrets of the universe in his ear and he’s trying to process them.

“…Mark?”

He turns to look at you, slow and awestruck. Like you just performed a miracle in front of him.

“You just—” He swallows hard. “You said it again.”

You tilt your head, one brow lifting.

“Said what?”

He gasps. Full gasp.

“Said what?! Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what you said.”

You rest your elbows against the back of the couch, watching him with a smirk that’s far too satisfied.

“You mean baby?”

Mark doesn’t blink. Doesn’t breathe. The TV hums in the background. Somewhere outside, a car drives by.

Then it hits him. Again.

The snack bag falls from his hand with a soft crinkle. He recoils, clutching his chest like he’s trying to physically contain his heart.

“I’m sweating,” he mutters, fanning himself. “Do you feel that? That’s my soul leaving my body. You just—casually—called me baby like it was nothing. Like you didn’t just rewrite my entire DNA.”

You laugh so hard your knees buckle. You have to grab the couch just to stay upright.

“No, because what do I do now?!” he groans, sliding dramatically down into the cushions. “Do I sit normally? Offer you a ring? Should I faint? Do people faint romantically anymore?!”

“Mark—”

“I’m spiraling,” he moans, draping his arm over his face like he’s in the final scene of a tragic play. “You said it so casually. That was so unfair.”

You circle around to the front of the couch and settle yourself into his lap, straddling him like it’s second nature. He stiffens beneath you, lips parting slightly—like your weight on him just activated some buried instinct.

You tilt your head, playful. “If I said it again… would you survive?”

“Absolutely not.”

You lean in, close enough to feel his breath catch, your mouth brushing the shell of his ear.

“Thanks, baby.”

Mark’s brain stopped working.

His body locks up. Shoulders tense. Jaw slack. You swear you can hear his heartbeat from across the room.

His hands grips your waist, hard and instinctive, like he’s afraid the moment will vanish if he doesn’t hold onto it. His head drops back with a soft, helpless whimper — the kind he’d deny with every breath in his body later, but can’t suppress now.

“I’m not okay,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut. “You’ve ruined me. Say it again.”

You’re still laughing, shoulders shaking, when his hand comes up and gently wraps around your wrist, pulling you closer— not rough, not demanding, just desperate.

Like he doesn’t even know what he’s doing. Like he just needs to feel you to know this is real.

“Say it again,” he pants, pupils blown wide. “I need to know it wasn’t an accident.”

You shrug, smirk curling at your lips. “It was an accident.”

“Liar,” he whispers.

His arms wrap around you tight, locking you in place. “You said it like you meant it.”

You pause. The laugh dies in your throat. Because something about the way he says it—quiet. steady. awestruck—makes your pulse stutter.

You drop your eyes to his lips. Your fingers are on his chest now, feeling the rapid thrum of his heart under your palm.

“You like it when I call you that, baby?”

His breath shudders. His grip on your waist tightens— like he can barely hold himself back.

You see the shift in his eyes. The air between you shifts—turns weighty, electric. Mark leans in, just enough that his nose brushes yours. He breathes you in.

The room suddenly feels warmer, your clothes feel suffocating.  

“Don’t say that,” he warns, voice rough. “Unless you want me to lose control.”

You grin, tilting your hips against his.  

“Maybe I do want you to lose control.”

That undoes him.

He grips your thighs, hard, and flips you underneath him in one swift, desperate motion. Your back hits the cushions with a soft thump, stealing your breath before you can even think.  

His body hovers above yours, warm and tense and trembling.

He moves before he even thinks—

No more softness. No teasing.  

His mouth crashes into yours like he needs to consume you— tongue licking into your mouth like he needs to taste the word baby right off your tongue.

His hands are already under your shirt, sliding up your stomach, dragging the fabric with them.

He groans into your mouth when he feels your bare skin— feels you tremble.

His lips leave yours, trailing down your jaw to the curve of your neck to your collarbone.

“You don’t get to say that and act innocent,” he growls, nipping at your skin.

His fingers slide down, skimming just above the waistband of your shorts— not quite dipping beneath, just teasing the edge.

“You’re fucking soaked through your shorts and I haven’t even touched you.”

You gasp, hips jerking.

“Want me to behave?” he hisses. “When you’re like this?”

You whimper.

He pulls back just enough to look at you—his hair falling into his eyes, lips flushed, chest rising and falling like he just ran a mile.

“You trust me?” he asks again, but this time it’s a whisper against your lips.

His fingers pause at the waistband of your shorts.

You nod, breathless. “Yes.”

You shift against him, guiding his hand lower. “I want this.”

He shoves your shorts down with one rough tug— underwear too— not even bothering to fully take them off.

He slides his hand between your legs, fingers slipping through your folds, achingly slow.

He groans the second he feels it.

“Jesus fuck,” he breathes.

His eyes flick up to yours, hazy and dazed.

“You’re dripping. Did that word really get you this wet, baby?”

You can’t answer. Can’t even think.

Your head drops back, and your hips lift instinctively into his hand.

He doesn’t rush.

He takes his time with you— running his fingers along your slit, collecting your slick and dragging it up in slow, lazy circles around your clit.

You jolt beneath him, letting out a broken noise. Somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.

“Greedy already?” he murmurs, voice hot against your skin. “Thought you didn’t do pet names.”

“Mark—fuck—please—”

“Oh, please now?” he teases. “Begging so sweet already. What if I make you say it again?”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Say it.”

You gasp.

“Baby.”

He groans—deep and guttural—like he’s unraveling from the inside out.

Then he sinks one finger into you.

Your back arches. Your walls clench instantly, the stretch rips a cry from your lips, and he watches—entranced.

His eyes are dark, locked on the way your body opens up for him, your mouth parting, breath stuttering.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing your pulse. “Say it when I’m inside you.”  

He starts to move—slow thrusts, deep and rhythmic. Each push of his finger drags a little moan out of you.

He curls his finger just right—presses deep and up—

and you gasp, hands scramble at his hoodie, digging into the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

His second finger slides in beside the first. He drags his fingers just right, slow and deliberate, making your stomach clench. His palm grinds against your clit every time he thrusts.

The wet sounds of your pussy echo with every stroke.  

“You hear that?” he growls. “You’re so wet I can fucking hear it, baby. That’s all you. All for me.”  

You cry out, hips lifting to grind into his hand.  

Mark’s eyes are wild. Possessive.  

He watches you like you’re unraveling just for him— like your pleasure is the only thing that exists.  

“Mark—oh my god—don’t stop—”  

He doesn’t. His fingers move faster now, smoother. Purposeful. Pressing again at that spot.

Your thighs tremble. Your breath comes in shallow gasps. Every nerve feels tight, like a bowstring ready to snap.

He laughs, low and breathless, and kisses your neck, open-mouthed and hungry. 

“Gonna cum on my fingers?” he breathes, curling them again. Dragging his palm over your clit in steady circles as his fingers fuck you deep. “Gonna fall apart just from my hand?”

You can’t answer. You’re too close. Too far gone.

“Say it again,” he breathes, lips brushing your jaw. “Let me hear it.”

“Baby—fuck, I’m—”  

He groans, deep and broken, like it cracked something open inside him.

He’s gone. No hesitation. No holding back—just raw, hungry need as his fingers move faster.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Just like that—baby, fuck—cum for me— let me feel it.”

Your breath catches.

One more stroke like and—

You break.

The orgasm hits so hard it steals the breath from your lungs. Your whole body jolts—back arching, legs locking around his hand. A cry rips from your throat, loud and raw.

Your walls pulse around his fingers as he fucks you through it, stroking you with deep, steady thrusts—like he wants to memorize every twitch, every moan.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers.

“That’s so fucking hot—baby, fuck,” he moans, like he feels it in his soul.  

He doesn’t stop until your hips twitch and you go soft beneath him, whimpering from the sensitivity.

Then he slows, easing out of you with soaked fingers, his eyes drinking you in like he’s never seen anything more divine.  

He sits back on his knees, eyes raking over you like he can’t believe what just happened. You’re a mess—hair damp, skin flushed, eyes glassy. Your chest rises and falls in shallow, shaky breaths — like your body’s still chasing the echo of his touch.

Mark exhales hard, staring at his wet fingers, trembling slightly — Then at you. Then—

without a word he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean

One by one. Slow. Obscene. Eyes never leaving yours.

You make a sound you didn’t know you were capable of, and he smirks.

He leans in, presses a kiss to your temple.

Then one to your cheek.  

Then your lips—soft now, careful.  

“You have no idea what you just did to me,” he breathes.  

You smile, dazed and wrecked. “You’re dramatic.”  

He shakes his head slowly, eyes locked on yours.  

“No. I’m obsessed.”

You groan, hiding your face in his hoodie. He laughs, warm and breathless, as he leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

He lowers himself beside you on the couch, pulling you into his chest like something precious. Like he’s afraid if he lets go, this whole night will vanish into smoke.

The silence between you now isn’t awkward. It’s heavy in a good way. Thick with something neither of you wants to say out loud yet. So instead, he just holds you.

For a long moment, the only sound is the soft thrum of the TV. Your breathing syncs with his.

Then — quietly, tentatively — he speaks again.

“Baby,” he says again, like a prayer. Like a confession. “I’m gonna make you say that every time I touch you.”  

You bury your face in his neck, body still tingling.  

“You broke me. I’m changed. That word will haunt me—in the best way,” he says, grinning.  

You curl into his chest, breath syncing with his, safe in the warmth of his arms. Your fingers trace idle circles over his chest, hidden beneath the cotton of his hoodie. Slow and aimless. He holds you tighter and breathes you in, like he doesn’t want to let go.

“Say it again,” he whispers into your hair.

You blink. Look up.

“Not for sex,” he murmurs. “Not to mess with me. Just… say it.”

He looks at you like he’s holding his breath. Like he’s asking for a secret. A promise.

You lift your hand to his face, fingers brushing his jaw, gentle. He turns into your touch instinctively.

And you say it.

Soft. Sure. No teasing this time.

“I love you, baby.”  

Mark exhales — a sound that’s almost a laugh, almost a sob. Like relief, like peace.  

Like he can’t believe you’re real.  

Like you just gave him the world with one small word—

The one word he thought he’d never hear.

Baby.

[mariasont]

Sugar, Spice, Spencer's Advice - S.R

everyone expects spencer reid to fall for purely intellectual types, but what they don't know is your ability to remember his rambling lessons and your diligent googled research makes him feel irrationally turned on

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader warnings: established relationship, some suggestive content, brief mention of food-play (non-graphic, discussion only), spencer being protective, fluff af, spencer's negative outlook on sugar/food (super brief), teasing/banter, flustered spence wc: 1.4k request: here!

You’re happily licking at your ice cream cone, eyes soft with uncomplicated happiness, and Spencer thinks he’s becoming entirely too familiar with this feeling. It’s habitual. To observe you is like revisiting his favorite passage in a beloved book, each time discovering nuances he’s missed before.

He’d given in the instant your expression had turned imploring — big, pleading eyes, soft pout — your most effective weapon. Spencer has abandoned all pretense that he can resist your nightly sugar-driven rituals.

He’d pondered briefly the psychological undercurrents of your craving, but each theory usually ends up dissolving when he’s confronted by the smile you give him when he caves.

His attention drifts back just as your feet land on the dashboard. Spencer half-smiles at the sight of those slip-ons, your comfy choice through the entire day of painfully predictable romance movies. He was pretty sure he lost the plot somewhere around hour two — another mistaken identity plot twist, seriously? — but keeping track of said plot wasn’t really the point anyway. 

He’d watch paint dry if it meant hearing you laugh like that, but thankfully you usually pick slightly better entertainment. Usually.

Spencer reaches over instinctively, his hand finding its place on your thigh, patting twice for good measure.

“Hey, feet off the dash, please,” he says. “Airbags deploy faster than you think, and personally, I’m pretty attached to the current arrangement of your features.”

His mind trips over the calculation against the embarrassment of sounding like an overbearing parent. He’s not even your husband yet. Yet.

But you immediately drop your feet without complaint, settling into a position that looks decidedly safer. Spencer breathes a little easier. He gives your thigh a grateful squeeze, his thumb brushing back and forth just once in a wordless thank you.

You tuck your legs beneath you, body angled toward him, elbow planted on the center console, cheek resting in your palm. 

“My face appreciates you looking out for it,” you tease gently. “Always looking out for me actually. Is there anything else I do that’s, like, secretly super dangerous?”

Spencer’s eyes catch yours, and he lets out a laugh, shaking his head. 

“Come here,” he murmurs, lifting his hand from your thigh to sweep his thumb along the edge of your mouth, collecting the vanilla ice cream that’s smeared there. “As far as dangerous decisions go, I’d say your habit of leaving candles burning unattended ranks pretty high. One of these days you’re going to burn the whole place down, sweetheart.”

“But you said most fires from candles happen because of flammable stuff near them, not just leaving them burning,” you remind him sweetly, nose wrinkling with affection. “So really, as long as I keep things away from my candles, I’m totally safe. And I always listen to you about that.”

His heart flutters with messy pride and affection that makes him feel embarrassingly sentimental. Sure, conversations about Marcel Proust or string theory aren’t exactly your cup of tea (he’s pretty sure you’d turn your nose up at the mere thought), but there’s this distinctly genuine and wonderful way you navigate the world. 

You absorb everything he says — half-formed ideas, scattered facts, fleeting memories — in a way that weirdly puts eidetic memories to shame. 

It’s dizzying, actually, the way you’re smiling at him right now, effortlessly beautiful and clearly unaware that he’s suddenly acutely conscious of how his pulse is pounding. 

He loves you, he knows he does, deeply, and apparently by the way his face flushes hot and his breathing quickens, he’s more turned on by your quiet brilliance than he ever expected.

“Okay, so candles are covered,” he says with mock seriousness, “but what about all my advice on not talking to strangers or, I don’t know, not accepting free candy from mysterious vans? Are those making the cut too?”

“Come on, Spencer, you taught me better than that,” you say proudly. “I know all about risk assessment now, if someone seems sketchy or pushes too hard, it’s probably a danger sign. And,” you add with a satisfied smile, “that’s why you’re the only one allowed to take me for sweets. Want a bite?”

Spencer eyes the melting ice cream warily, the overly sweet scent doing nothing to tempt him, it’s essentially frozen sugar, after all, objectively terrible for him. The mental list of reasons to politely decline is endless.

But the knowledge that your lips have just been there sets off a chain reaction, desire eclipsing logic. Suddenly, he’s more than willing to abandon nutritional morals for the vague promise of an indirect kiss. Though, admittedly, he would much rather prefer the direct approach. But he’s fairly certain that running into a telephone pole would rank even higher risk wise than unattended candles or dashboard hazards. 

So, instead, he ducks his head, taking a careful bite, instantly regretting it when the sticky sweet cold paints his cheek.

Your giggles ripple, making him smile sheepishly as you shift closer. He expects your thumb, mirroring his earlier gesture, but then your lips brush against his cheek, your tongue catching the vanilla drip. Every ounce of rationality deserts him into one helplessly smitten mess.

“You know, saliva actually cleans better than wiping,” you announce thoughtfully. “So, you’re welcome, Spence.”

He’s half certain he’s never mentioned anything about saliva enzymes, but then again, he’s so thoroughly distracted by you most of the time he might’ve. It sounds exactly the kind of oddly specific detail he’d share.

“Okay,” he manages, unable to suppress a smile. “Where exactly did you learn that one?”

“I googled it.” You tilt your head. “Like, I thought food-play might be fun to try with you?” You shrug lightly, expression utterly innocent as if discussing something far less suggestive. “But then all these articles said it can get kinda gross and messy, and honestly, Spencer, I realized you’d probably just stress about germs and clean-up, and there’s no way I’d enjoy it if you weren’t totally relaxed and happy.”

Of all the things he anticipated you might say tonight, casually mentioning food play research was not on the list. It lands like a dropped grenade, exploding into fragments of thoughts he cannot possibly hope to piece together.

His cheeks burn hot as images — sticky and indecent images — flood his mind without permission. Vanilla dripping slowly down your collarbone, lips parted in invitation, eyes sparkling with that innocent curiosity he adores.

But beneath this sudden rush of desire lies something even softer because he can almost see it — your earnest expression as you scroll through webpages, considering all the possible complications, all the ways he might react. 

Spencer’s chest aches in a way he can’t pinpoint, a vulnerability spreading through him that he rarely allows himself to feel. He’s not used to people taking such gentle care of his anxieties, treating his quirks as something precious rather than burdensome. A small, quiet part of him wonders if he deserves this kind of thoughtfulness, this careful, intentional love you offer without hesitation. He wants to believe it, wants to let himself trust it completely, but the tender astonishment that grips him right now makes it hard to think straight.

“You know, angel, next time just come straight to me, okay? I promise my answers are better, and less traumatizing, than whatever you’ll find online.”

“Well, don’t blame me when you start getting texts at two a.m. about my random questions.”

Spencer raises an eyebrow at you. “I think we both know that if my phone goes off at two a.m., you’re probably not looking for statistics.”

You smile at that.

“I mean, yeah, probably,” you concede. “But honestly, Spence, I did read this thing about late-night dopamine spikes or whatever and —,”

He doesn’t think. He can’t think. The moment the car is in park, his body moves on its own, leaning across the console, hands gently cupping your face as he silences your adorable scientific ramble. He’s never felt such urgency, such an intense, overwhelming need to kiss someone as he does right now. It’s impulsive, reckless, completely out of character, and yet he feels no regret. Only relief. Only you.

For once in his analytical life, Spencer lets instinct win, savoring your lips and the small, surprised sound you make against him. He hopes you hear in his kiss everything he can’t yet put into words.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[kisses4themissus]

Little Ballerina | M.R X Reader

a/n: i feel like that mouse eating rn...but yay more lovebug and robby!! pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch X Single Mom!Reader wc: 2.8k warnings: semi proofread!!

previous | requests open for dr. robby | masterlist | next

Robby sighed into his thermos as he finally sat down on a desk.

As he signed onto the computer, he didn’t pay attention as someone sat down beside him. “Morning robinavitch.” 

Turning to face the person, robby stopped, surprised to see you sitting on the chair beside him, two coffees in your hands. “What are you doing down here?” He asked, slightly excited as you handed him one before logging onto the next computer. 

“Gloria said if I covered for dr. ellis today, I could get saturday and sunday off.” You grinned, tapping your badge. 

“I always forget you were cross trained..” Robby chuckled before going back to the screen. 

“Yep, oh that’s for you!” You pushed the cup of coffee towards him, robby nodded in thanks before taking a sip. “I always see you drinking black so I got you a dark roast.” You explained to him before picking up your coffee, sipping as you typed something up before getting up.

Robby nodded, lost for words. “Thank you.” He muttered, watching as you scanned the board before going to a room. On the opposite side, Dana stared at him and laughed, her glasses slipping to the edge of her nose. 

“You’re like a little boy with a crush on his older neighbor!” She laughed, robby quickly waved her off, the tips of his ears flushing.

 - - - - - - - -

The interns had followed you most of the day like lost puppies, watching in awe of how attuned you were to the ED.

As you entered a room with Victoria, your heart broke a bit at the sight in front of you; A young dad sat on the uncomfortable hospital chair, leaning over his baby trying to calm the poor baby down. 

You introduced yourself and the others before beginning your assessment. 

“I don’t know why he keeps crying, night and day. He only stops when he tires himself out!” The dad rambled, tearing up himself. You nodded at the information and began checking on the baby with a frown on your face.

“Is he allergic to anything?” You asked. Victoria quietly watched as you examined the baby. “Not that I know of..” He sighed into his palms.

You nodded once more before softly turning the baby to check for any rashes. You quickly turned to Victoria and smiled politely. “Could you get me a towel with warm water and a warm blanket please?”

At your request Victoria took off to find the items. Leaving you only with the young father and crying baby. “My wife passed away during childbirth, I’ve been struggling real bad with him…does he hate me?” The young man broke down crying, making you sigh; he had reminded you of your days with lacey.

“He doesn’t hate you, probably the opposite, he must adore you but he’s just a little upset he can’t outright say what’s wrong with him.” you comforted the dad.

“I thought the same when my daughter was born, her biological dad wasn’t around so I was left on my own with a baby. I was convinced she hated me, but she always adored having me around. Now I have a little sidekick for everything.” You added, making the dad lift his head up at you. “Does it get easier, y’know being on your own with a baby?” He questioned.

You nodded and smiled. “You boys will be great together, always put his heart first even over yours.” You smiled reassuringly at the dad.

Victoria walked into the room, a warm towel in hand and robby behind her, tugging on his stethoscope.

“What’s going on with this little guy?” Robby asked, you quickly filled him in as you scooped up the baby and bounced lightly with him in your arms as victoria laid out the warm blanket. You skillfully and swiftly unbuttoned the baby’s onesie before laying the warm towel on his stomach and the baby on the warm blanket.

You all watched as the baby’s cries stopped and turned into sniffles. The baby boy relaxed into the warmth, making you giggle as he visually relaxed and sighed. 

“What kind of formula do you give him?” You asked, turning to the dad who watched with a smile now that his son had stopped crying. He quickly fumbled for his phone and pulled up a photo, once you saw the container you nodded and smiled at the dad.

“Poor thing is lactose intolerant.” You chuckled, running your gloved hand over the chubby baby cheeks.

“I’d recommend switching him to lactose free, and if it starts again just place him in the bath or even the sink and have warm water and a warm towel, it’ll help release the gas bubbles.” You explained, smiling down at the baby, not seeing the look of admiration from robby.

The young father thanked you profusely, making you smile and nod. “I have to ask though before I discharge you both…can i hold him please?” You asked, robby found it cute, the way you tilted your head like a little kid.

The father agreed and let you pick the baby up once more. You squealed as the little boy nuzzled into your neck. “He’s so cute and tiny!” You said in a high pitched voice, making victoria and robby smile. Victoria excused herself to see another patient while you and robby stayed behind.

The dad had placed the boy’s binky in his mouth while the boy was readjusted by you and now sat his head by your shoulder. You lightly swayed, enjoying the little warmth from the infant.

Too busy yawning, the little boy dropped the binky from his mouth, internally you cringed imagining it’d hit the dirty hospital floor. Robby watched in awe as you managed to swiftly catch the binky before it fell to the ground, you sighed and handed the pacifier and the baby back over to the dad.

“I’ll have a nurse come in and give you the paperwork for discharge and instructions for the warm baths, otherwise you two boys have a great life together!” You smiled and excused yourself and robby away.

Walking back to central you began to start the discharge paperwork, robby slowly chuckled before clapping at you, standing in front of your spot at central.

“How did you do that?” He asked, making you glance up at him. “Do what?” You questioned.

“The whole thing, the formula, the baths, oh or the pacifier!” He listed the examples off.

“Instincts, dr robinavitch.” You winked at him before going back to typing. 

 - - - - - - - -

After your stressful day in the ED, you had joined some of the workers in there after work drinking activity. You sighed as you sat on the bench, declining a beer by robby.

“Alright, I gotta go before I miss my train.” Donnie sighed, getting up from the bench. Mohan nodded and joined him, leaving you and robby to be the last ones in the park. You sighed as you checked your watch, lovebug was already sound asleep at your brother and sister in law's house, they had agreed to watch Lacey under the gist of a sleepover with her older cousins.

Robby smiled as you got up and turned to him. “I gotta go too, need to stop to get dinner for myself.” You sighed, robby quickly jumped up and motioned the way to your car. “I’ll walk with you– y’know for safety.” He added watching as you giggled before nodding and guiding him the way to your car.

As you both approached your vehicle , robby was confused, normally his three beers wouldn’t have gotten him tipsy or drunk but before robby could stop himself the words tumbled right out. “What are you doing tomorrow?” He asked, standing up straight.

Slowly warmth grew on your face at his question. “Um– I’ll probably be at my mom’s ballet studio…why?” You asked, excitement growing in your stomach. “Maybe, we could uhh- get coffee tomorrow?” He proposed, nervously waiting for your response.

“How about coffee in the morning and then dinner later?” You asked, clutching your bag strap tightly. Robby chuckled and nodded at you. “I’ll text you the cafe..goodnight.” He smiled like a school boy as you got into your car and took off.

Once out of sight, Robby silently celebrated.

 - - - - - - - -

The next morning was a rush despite being your day off of work. Lovebug had forgotten her ballet bag and needed you to bring it to the studio.

You had gotten ready in a rush before heading out to hand off the bag.

It was crazy how fast you had gotten looped into doing little girls buns as they scurried into the studio bathroom. You sighed as you finished the small line of girls asking for a bun. With the crack of your neck you turned to see lovebug in her tutu practicing rat with the other older kids.

With a chuckle you felt your phone begin to buzz in your pocket. Quickly pulling it out your heart fell; robby’s phone number popped up.

You quickly answered, feeling guilty. “Robinavitch, i’m so sorry I forgot about our coffee and i need to run to the ballet studio, i swear i’m just right up the street-!” You were cut off by his chuckle.

“It’s alright, I was calling since I'm running behind too.” You both sighed, with a pause he asked. 

“Do you need to reschedule?” 

You quickly denied it, “I'll be there I swear.” You reassured, already picking up your purse from the bench outside the studio room. Robby chuckled and let you go.

With a flustered face, you quickly stopped in the studio’s bathroom once more to freshen up before walking to the cafe up the street. Opening the door the smell of coffee beans wafted through the air.

You did a quick look around the room, thankful you had beat robby there. As you stood in line, you swayed light waiting for your turn to order, reading over the menu. As you stepped up to order, another person slides beside you.

You turned, ready to be upset at the line cutter but stopped and smiled warmly at robby.

“Dr. robinavitch, it’s nice to see you out of scrubs and that jacket.” You teased earning a hearty laugh. “That’s what I was gonna say, no compression jacket?” He quipped back. You both quickly laughed about it before ordering your coffees.

“Seriously though, you look very nice.” You compliment, smiling at his outfit. 

His ears turned red, “Same to you, I like the overalls.” he motioned to the embroidered overalls; they had been a matching set with lacey.

“Thank you, the embroidering was all done by my grandma.” You grinned, posing for him.

He chuckled, his heart melting at the sight of you out of the workplace. “So you work at your parents' ballet studio?” He asked as you both stood off to the side for the coffee, helping you sit on a bar stood by the window.

“Occasionally, like for the busier seasons.” You explained, placing your face on your palm. Robby nodded. You both had begun to talk about work and different patients and diagnoses.

You turned, ready to get down from the stool to grab your drinks when robby stopped you and grabbed them before returning, handing you your cup. “Thank you robinavitch.” you smiled and took a sip, robby sat in silence for a second before chuckling. 

Glancing at him, you raised a brow. “What is it?”

“You never have called me Robby, or anything else.” He chuckled, making your face feel warm. “That you know of.” You joked, “I never really thought about calling you anything other than robinavitch..” you pondered.

“It’s jewish right?” You asked, earning a nod.

Robby smiled at you, “Now I gotta hear you call me robby.” 

You both laughed as you kept stopping yourself from speaking. “C’mon honey, just say robby.” he tried to coach you. With a flustered giggle you turned to him, “Stop it robby.” You tried to wave him off. Robby stopped, his heart skipping at the sight of you laughing and saying his name, it was sight for sure.

Noticing his now quiet demeanor, you slowly dropped your smile and looked at him concerned. “Are you ok?” You asked, earning a nod from him. “How did it feel?” he asked, making you smile into your cup.

Swallowing the coffee quickly you snickered. “It felt different”; A good different, it was new and exciting.

He smiled and nodded before picking up his cup. As you both talked about your personal lives you stopped and waved to the passing ballet dancers who passed by the window, them doing the same as they walked past to get lunch.

“I used to be a ballerina, up til I was eighteen; I stopped and decided to follow my brothers into the medical field.” You explained, Robby sat up and listened intently.

“Your brother met his wife there, at your parents' studio?” he clarified, making you nod.

“She was new and he was so fast to offer her a tour of the building, we all teased him. Marissa is a great dancer, my mom hoped I would've followed in her steps..” You sighed, swirling the almost empty cup around.

“Ahh yes, the prima ballerina; the star of the show.” he said jokingly, earning a confused smile.

“She never made it to be the studio prima ballerina; since I left my mom never chose another.” You offhandedly explained, making Robby raise a brow at that.

“:Lacey said her mom was-!”

As he opened his mouth to say something your phone began to ring, you glanced over and picked up. 

“She’s what, I'll be right there!” You said in a panic, quickly getting off the stool and walked to the door, “I’m sorry, Robby, I need to go deal with something!” You apologized before running out the door and back to the ballet studio.

Robby watched, confused; turning his head to your now empty seat he froze as he noticed the item on the table.

You had been too busy being in a hurry to notice you had left your purse. With a heavy sigh he got up and picked up the leftover cake pop you had ordered and grabbed your purse and attempted to follow you.

 - - - - - - - -

Walking into the ballet studio, a group of kids stood in a circle as they watched Lacey and another little girl fight. 

You marched through the crowd and pulled lacey away. “What are you doing? We never hit people, that’s mean and there is no excuse to do that!” You lectured, holding the seething five year old, who chomped her mouth at the other little girl who was being held back by her caretaker.

“She told me that her nanny said you’re a witch and will always be alone and that’s why you don’t go on dates!” Lacey explained, huffing as she recalled the little girl's words, ready to bite someone’s ankle if they made her snap once more.

“She said what?!” You scoffed and turned to the nanny before you both ended up on the studio’s floor, you began to slap the nanny, saying names you never thought of saying in front of your daughter or the other students.

Walking in, Robby froze at the sight of a crowd surrounding a fight, he quickly placed your purse onto the front desk before getting in the middle and helping hold you off the nanny.

“Talk shit about me again and I'll make sure every plastic surgeon knows to give you a messed up nose job!” You yelled, trying to claw your way out of robby’s arms and towards the nanny once more.

Robby quickly walked away with you, cornering you to calm down, blocking out the other lady from your sight. “You alright?” He asked, checking for any bruising or wounds on you. “I’m alright, it would've been better if i broke her nose some more!” You called out, making Robby chuckle before glancing over his shoulder, expecting to see a crowd of traumatized kids only to see them all chattering and laughing about the fight.

Lacey walked over to you both and checked on you herself before nodding and sitting down beside you against the wall. “Are you ok girlfriend?” You asked, earning a tired sigh from lovebug.

“She didn’t get me, but I wanted to bite her ankle so she can't do snow angels..” She scoffed, shaking her head. Robby chuckled as he stared at you both.

You turned to robby with a confused look, “You didn’t have to follow me here.” you told him as you rubbed over a part of your jaw. “I kinda did, you forgot your purse.” He chuckled and motioned for the front desk where you laughed and nodded.

Turning to lacey you smiled at her. “Got you a cake pop.” You nodded your head to the white paper bag by your purse.

She perked up but didn’t move. “But I was in a fight, and you said it’s mean…” She sighed, her eyes downcasting to her shoes.

You shook your head. “You stood up for me, though maybe in the future you just tell me what’s said about momma ok?” You smiled at her.

With a grin she nodded before running to the front desk to receive her treat, leaving you with a shocked robby.

“You’re her mom?”

next pt

robby taglist: @nerdgirljen @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange @snowflames-world @whimsicalfungiforager @lovebuggyies @itschelseacisneros @kmc1989 @foolishseven @rhysology @delicatetrashtree @evans-dejong @coffinheartz @equallyshaw @baileythepenguin

[unladielike]

    Vivian nods away in agreement for to her, having a considerable amount of burgers without any soda didn't seem like something that's really heard of... and yeah, perhaps there were way better palate cleansers to be had than carbonated drinks, but as this was a food truck and not a restaurant, the selection of beverages they could realistically order would understandably be a bit limited.

    "Welp, I wouldn't go as far as to say I necessarily understand 'everything', per say, but yeah, once you manage to live through twenty one years on this planet, you start discovering some pretty basic stuff... like, for instance, how the human body gets thirsty if you consume salty snacks yet do not occasionally bring yourself to drink water throughout regular intervals," Vivian states. Granted, most would consider that to be 'common sense', but as per usual, she frames it more like an academic study than redundant knowledge nobody would truly bother disputing.

    Either way, it doesn't take long for her bespectacled gaze to soon settle on the drinks menu, which was situated to the right side corner of the food truck... and to her delight, Coke was listed as one of the drinks that were available to order, causing her to clasp both hands together.

    "Ooh, what do you know?! They do indeed have Coke! No Fanta to be seen, though... then again, at least we aren't forced to choose Pepsi, which is the mid alternative to Coke," Vivian pipes up. Of course, after the final customer leaves, she'll then finally pull out her wallet before turning to Mizumachi. "Alright, so to summarize super quickly... we want ten teriyaki cheese burgers with two cokes?" Vivian repeats in order to ensure they were on the same page.

[水]

“Bia is so smart! I love it!”

Who knew there was such a place so close by? He hadn’t found the place yet, and who knew how long it would’ve taken before he found it. The food truck  now had a new fan who was bound to visit pretty often any time homesickness struck him- which was surprisingly often if he was left alone with his thoughts.

The jock laughs at the comment that the food truck wasn’t going anywhere. It wouldn’t sprout legs and run away—but it had wheels, didn’t it? Couldn’t it drive off?

“Yeah! A Teriyaki cheese burger sounds great!”

Sometimes, he’d go into restaurants and find that the food was very different compared to his expectations, but if going by the smell alone, he was sure that he was going to like the burgers here. He normally wasn’t that picky when it came to food anyways, but still! It was a kind of betrayal for someone who craved familiar tastes to walk into a restaurant and walk out of it confused over what he’d actually eaten. He learned the hard way that many ‘fusion��� places weren’t… the best. Guess not every fusion was stellar and epic. Sorry Goku and Vegeta.

“You really understand everything, huh? You’re right! If you’re going to be eating a lot of burgers anyways, ya gotta drink something that pairs well with it. Coke is the best! Fanta is also good, though.”

If you were going to be eating your fill of burgers, was there really any real difference if you chose to drink soda over water? The difference was minor at that point, so there was no point in picking straws. Water was his preferred drink for regular hours, but if he was doing rigorous exercise, then he would reach for sports drinks to replenish his electrolytes. Soda was for whenever he was treating himself to some junk food. Might as well go big or go home (and eat healthier).

[yi2huo]

C'MON KEEP UP! ₊ university au 𐙚

𐙚 𓈒 𓈒 SYNOPSIS ) ; after a throwaway statement from heeseung, you can't help but notice your best friend jake in ways you've never noticed before. even worse, things get complicated when sunghoon gets added to the mix

PAIRING ) — college!jake x fem!reader ₊ fluff, humor

WC ) — 2.2k+

INCOMING MSG ) — ding ! i took a mini hiatus but i'm back !! i can't wait to post more this summer >< if anyone has any requests, feel free to drop them through asks ♡ 

“cute necklace, y/n.” heeseung drops into the seat next to you and you slide your bag over to the left to accommodate him. you lean your bag against jake who is sitting to your left, and he uses the opportunity to steal a sip from your drink. 

with the professor already rambling away about quantum mechanics, you struggle to pay any sliver of attention to heeseung’s words as he continues to yap. “where did you get them from?”

muffling a yawn, you absentmindedly reach up to caress the star dangling from your neck. the sharp indents prick you back into a memory. “oh, these. they were a gift from a friend.” 

“oh, a friend? or do you mean your boyfriend?” 

you faintly hear jake choking on the drink but your attention is quickly stolen by heeseung’s words. 

they’re throwaway, that much is obvious from his wandering eyes to his wide yawn as he pulls out his laptop. they shouldn’t mean anything yet your face warms despite yourself. shaking your head furiously, you exclaim, “a friend! just a friend."

he hums, raising an eyebrow as he spares you a quick glance. his gaze flickers somewhere behind you for a second and you would have looked too if his next words didn’t pull you back. “come to think of it, i don’t think you’ve ever told me what your type was.”

“my type?” your mind blanks. 

“like what you look for in a person.”

“i know what a type is.” you quip back, hoping the playful hostility can hide your sudden surprise. 

“then why do you look so disgruntled?” he turns on his laptop, ignoring the loud whirring that blares. “don’t tell me it’s someone like me?” 

that causes you to scoff. “definitely not, i’ve known you since you were five.” 

heesung continues to stare at you, pressing you wordlessly and you give in, finally surrendering more thought to his question. 

"i mean, i guess, maybe someone good-looking? someone who’s… not boring? and now that we're talking about it, someone who is fit and athletic too. they’d have to be smart but not in a i-don’t-have-fun kind of way. like in a cute way." the more you think of it, the more words seem to spill from your mouth. "and someone who has a good sense of humor, someone who will make me laugh.”

“someone good looking, interesting, sporty, smart and funny? that’s too greedy.”

you chuckle quietly, muffling the sound as the professor spins around to glare at someone else talking. “you’re right, there’s no way there’s anyone that perfect. i guess i’ll have to be single forever.”

“you'll always have me.” heeseung says, grinning.

“don’t be stupid.”

“or—hear me out—your type kinda sounds like jake.” 

“okay, now i know you’re actually stupid.”

“come on, you two—”

your voice is a harsh whisper when you chide, “will you shut up already? he’s sitting right there!”

“you two have been friends for years.” he matches your volume this time, to your relief. “you’re telling me you’re friends with your exact type and haven’t felt any sort of way about him?”

you make a face and shove him playfully. you open your mouth to say more—a jab at heeseung’s own lovelife instead—when a piece of chalk cuts through the air and faintly skims past your nose. you turn back with a start and make eye contact with a very angry professor, his bald head shining in the light. 

“is there something you’d like to share with the class?” 

you let out a strangled squeak, sinking into your seat as heeseung chuckles beside you. 

“no, sir.” 

when the lecture hall finally moves on from your show of embarrassment, you turn away to pretend to busy yourself with your bag. when you come back up, positive that your face has cooled off such that you can almost look presentable again, your eyes accidentally meet with jake’s. 

there’s an unreadable expression on his face, eyes wide and unfocused as he stares at you. feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, you quickly look away and sink down into your chair yet you struggle to completely ignore him. you watch from your peripherals as he looks away, sunghoon whispering something into his ear and chuckling though he seems to not be having it, swatting him away like a fly.

seeing his face made you think. maybe heeseung was right, didn’t jake match your type criteria? someone attractive, interesting, athletic and smart? 

with a start, you look back at heeseung. “and someone calm. someone with manners.”

“well-mannered and calm. what insane preferences.” heeseung chuckles. “are there any more?"

the professor slams his hand on the table a few times, reluctantly drawing your attention back to the front.

your previous conversation dies and twiddles away into the background, overtaken by droning lectures and forced groupwork. your conversation with heeseung quickly slips from mind as you’re lost in the mountain of work. 

when you enter the lecture hall the next day, you’re surprised to find jake already there and seated at the same spot. it seems like you’re the only two people there and you awkwardly take your seat next to him. you had arrived early to avoid the early morning rush but you wondered what his excuse was.

“good morning.” you mumble, flashing him a small smile. you take the chance to observe him, frowning slightly when you watch him push up his glasses as he continues to read a heavy chemistry textbook. 

since when did he wear glasses?

his eyes flicker to yours as you unpack. “good morning.”

“what’s with you?”

jake clears his throat. “what ever do you mean?”

your frown transitions to a grimace. “why are you talking like that? did you break something of mine? was it my DS, jake i told you to take good care of it!”

“i am taking care of it! it’s fine!” he exclaims before pausing uncharacteristically. he sits back in his chair and turns back to his book. “i mean, it’s fine.”

“you sure?”

“i am.”

you narrow your eyes before looking away, turning on your laptop. “it better be. i need to run pokemon black on that. when are you going to finish using it?”

“soon. i’m almost finished with the elite four. my party is basically set, i was just waiting to finish an assessment before i grind it and…” he trails off suddenly, the animated look on his face fading. he clears his throat, pushing up his glasses somewhat clumsily. “i mean, if that’s what you wish i shall return it to you as soon as possible.” 

you turn to him horrified. “so you did break my DS!”

“i said it’s not broken!” jake bursts. another pause. he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses. “i’m simply being considerate.”

you stare at him and watch as he fidgets under your gaze. “are you feeling sick? did you eat something wrong? why are you talking like that?”

“i’m not sick. what part of me looks sick?"

“hey, no need to get defensive. i’m just saying you’re usually not this…” you watch him as you wrack your brain, trying to find a word to describe this situation. “c…”

jake leans forward. “yes?”

“crazy.”

he falls back in his chair, groaning, textbook forgotten and placed harshly down on the table with a thud.

you tilt your head. “where's hoon? you guys didn’t come to class together? don’t tell me you fought.”

jake peers up and frowns. “no, can i not show up to class early just because i feel like it?”

“it would be extremely out of character, yeah.” you rest your chin on your hand as you watch jake mutter to himself, his jaw jutted out and his nose scrunched.

he was clearly unhappy, it didn’t take a scholar to know. it might take a genius to figure out why though.

you had time to kill, might as well take up the challenge. maybe he hadn’t had his morning dose of sugar yet, or maybe his favorite anime had delayed its upcoming episode. maybe he didn't save properly on the new game he was playing, or maybe he simply didn't sleep well last night. or maybe he had lied to you and he had fought with sunghoon, leading to this strange attitude.

the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. the way he was acting now was like a mockery to sunghoon’s usual behavior.

“are you trying to be like hoon?” you try.

jake whirs around to face you. “what?”

“well, you’re trying to be all, what was that word you used earlier? more considerate.” he keeps staring at you and you clear your throat. “like more well-mannered. more calm.”

jake remains silent but you watch as his jaw drops. you think that he might say something but then his mouth closes, only to open again.

jake’s speechless, what a sight. but as good of a sight as it was, you were beginning to feel concerned.

“are you sure you’re alright? what did you eat yesterday?”

he doesn’t register your question. “you think sunghoon is well-mannered?”

“well, yes?”

“and calm?”

you nod. “at least more than you.”

“do you think he’s interesting too? sporty? smart? funny?” he pauses. “good-looking?”

the questions throw you off guard and you sit up. “what? where is this coming from?”

“oh my god, you do.”

“no? i mean, i think hoon’s great and everything—”

“you think sunghoon’s great?”

“don’t you?”

“you think sunghoon’s hot.” he concludes. “and you think sunghoon’s great.”

"i didn’t say all of that! why are you putting words in my mouth?"

"i don't know. why don't you tell me?"

flushing, you flail for words. “are you… are you jealous of sunghoon? i thought you guys were past things like that!”

jake grits his teeth and looks away. with a pout, he says, “i am not jealous of sunghoon.”

the door to the lecture room is thrown open and sunghoon steps through, rubbing the back of his neck. he yawns on his way to his chair and it wakes him up, looking between you and jake as you both watch him enter.

“what did you guys do?” he asks with a sigh.

“nothing!”

“nothing.” jake says and glares at him.

sunghoon blinks.

“okay.” he says slowly, sliding out his chair and sitting. “what did i do then? why are you both looking at me like that?”

“jake’s being weird.” you snitch. “are you guys fighting?”

“how should i know? i thought we were doing okay. jake, if i did something, use your words and tell me.”

"i'll use my words to tell you to suck my dick instead."

"so i did do something. you're so predictable, jake."

you snicker as jake huffs and glances away, intent on ignoring sunghoon’s pestering.

subconsciously, you drown sunghoon out too, your traitorous mind observing jake’s eyes. you had always thought it was just a neutral brown, but looking at it now, it seemed more like amber dripping like honey, the chocolate hue sparkling and dimming as the lights flickered overhead, and you watched the light dance through his eyes.

something shifts and it’s not just the aircon suddenly turning on. something like realisation dawns on you though you have no time to come to terms with your new thought when jake turns to look at you. startled, you hold his gaze and he holds it too, just long enough for your lungs to run out of air.

you look away hastily and inhale.

jake glances to the front, oddly fidgety.

sunghoon looks between the two of you. “what the fuck was that?”

“nothing.” jake says.

sunghoon clearly doesn't buy it but though he tries to get an answer out of you, you don't give him one. cupping your cheeks, your thoughts mirror his question. what was that? it was embarrassing, that's what it was, and your realization is only heightened as a silence fills all four corners of the classroom.

jake clears his throat. “for me, i like someone who i'm already comfortable with. someone i already know.”

at his words, you look over at him and find him already staring. he frowns when you don't give him any other reaction.

your professor saves you from addressing his statement as he walks into the room. unlike every other day, you have no snarky comment to make about his radiant bald spot. your mind fails to work as you turn over jake’s words, thinking them through. what did they mean? what was he talking about? did this weird confession have something to do with why he was acting so strange?

slowly, you draw connections between your conversation with jake and the talk you had with heeseung yesterday morning. an epiphany shoots through you and you cover your mouth to hide a gasp.

did that mean…?

someone he knew? acting strange? getting mad when you said you liked sunghoon?

you watch jake’s side profile, hoping he’d turn around. if what you thought was right, he’d turn.

seconds tick past. your professor’s monotonous voice drawls on and yet jake doesn't even spare you a glance.

no, maybe you were wrong after all.

just as you were about to face your professor again, jake’s head shifts and his eye flicks over to yours. they widen when he finds you, and you’re sure you’re in a similar shocked state.

oh my god, you think, eyes darting between him and the other boy in the room.

jake has a crush on sunghoon.