#“WE JUST GONNA BLOW UP THE ISLAND AND CALL IT THERE”

[dnalt-d2]

I actually rewatched a lot of Purgatory recently, specifically some of the Bolas POVs I wasn't keeping up with at the time, and I saw the stream where Baghera met Iris and it just hit me so hard WHY the little Eye Guys got introduced

Like Baghera was trying SO HARD to have fun and mess around, but the others were trying to win (I don't blame them necessarily, it's how the event was designed) but it felt like a lot of what Baghera was wanting to do was immediately overshadowed by everyone else trying to win, and it was starting to feel MISERABLE

Until Iris showed up and suddenly things were actually enjoyable for her again. Even Baghera said that she was having a really bad time until Iris showed up. (She also seemed a little salty that Cellbit just arbitrarily changed the name she gave Iris, but didn't really say anything. I could be wrong on that, but that's what it felt like to me)

And just so many of the people who were there to mess around and have fun were NOT having fun for so long in this event, and it made certain things just feel bleak. Sure this sort of thing MIGHT'VE been fun for the tryhards, but because not everyone could enjoy it, it didn't make it any more fun for anyone. It all got dragged down by unnecessary tension that people WOULD NOT stop trying to inject into the situation

Not to mention that watching it with the hindsight of how things ended really drove home how much of this just wasn't planned. I could think of a couple different ways this could've been satisfying, but instead it just felt empty. I remember thinking that at the end, and I had hoped that they had a plan to wrap things up well. But it's pretty clear that they didn't. They should've had the players bring ALL the Eggs back, but instead they probably wanted Cucurucho to bring back the new Eggs back from there, so they had to give him a reason to go to that other Island in the first place. But there were definitely other ways to achieve that if that's what happened

It almost felt like whoever was behind the scenes wanted to personally solve the problem and be the hero of the story, and shoved everyone else out of the way to achieve that. And that's not fun either, to anyone else. I've compared this sort of thing to DND a lot, and this basically felt like if the GM decided that they wanted to be the Main Character for a bit, so they had their self-insert character swoop in and save the day, taking all agency from the players that had, to this point, been the ones we were all following. And that makes for a shitty campaign. And it makes for a shitty end to a Minecraft SMP event

So yeah Purgatory DEFINITELY had some fun and iconic moments and character stuff. And there were even some parts that were pretty fun. But that's basically it. And compared to ALL the other stuff that we lost in the process, it's hard to really justify its presence as an event in the grand scheme of things

One qsmp twt opinion I’ll never be able to agree with is “Purgatory was the best event on the server, actually, and if the ccs couldn’t adapt to the game, then they should’ve stopped playing”

Like damn, okay, tell me that you didn’t see the stream Bagi did where she had to turn her facecam off because of all the hate she was getting for the simple fact of not being BOLAS. Anyone else remember how multiple ccs basically quit the server entirely after Purgatory? How the event made to appeal to the pvp players and bring them back to the server brought nobody back to the server and just made everybody miserable? How the teams were genuinely created to be unbalanced so that their fans would argue and stir up drama? How SO MANY creators logged in on day one with brand new lore they were planning on doing but who never got to do anything ever again? Does anybody else remember how the rules were constantly changing because the admins couldn’t figure out how to make things fair because it was a deliberately unfair event??

But, yeah, Purgatory was the best event. Sure, buddy

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

sonic the hedgehog tumblr dashboard simulator

0 notes

💠 extremegayr Follow

got held up in traffic today cause some noob couldnt drive the fucking loop-de-loop. lmfao fucking coward

15 notes

🎛 420zone Follow

ok but robotnik's kind of a dilf tho

🌫 wispgender Follow

he's literally a war criminal can we NOT do this tumblr

🎛 420zone Follow

📰 its-no-use Follow

@wispgender dont u literally simp for nominatus like who is one to talk

🌫 wispgender Follow

NOMINATUS ISN'T REAL????

🛜 viralsensation-destructorofworlds Follow

that you know of

🌫 wispgender Follow

what

10,672 notes

🔷 sonicinthewild

43,834 notes

☣️ lineinthesand Follow

saw sonic the hedgehog irl once. he showed up at my village, released 30 feral pickys in the town hall, paid the ice cream vendor roughly a thousand rings for a single chili dog, told me not to waste my life worrying about the little things, and then caused a fucking tornado

🧿 spiralhillspindash Follow

ok and??? you're not special

☣️ lineinthesand Follow

THIS WAS A PERSONAL POST GO AWAAAAY

173 notes

🌠 chaoinspace2electricboogaloo

sucks that sticks the badger hates all technology you know she would do NUMBERS on here

568 notes

☸️ r0u3e Follow

being an islander be like "are those the kind of eggsplosions i should worry about or the kind of eggsplosions that are gonna repair our crops, fix the economy, and bring my dead grandma back to life"

🌁 eggpawnkindathicctho Follow

being a continenter be like "oh great what primordial diety has risen from the grave to block traffic and fight a 15yo today"

🥭 chao-official

being a chao be like "chao chao chao chao chao"

🌁 eggpawnkindathicctho Follow

you said it my mans

579,056 notes

🏵 sprinkles-the-chao Follow

hold on if sonic the hedgehog is jewish then how is he santa claus

🤖 e123-omegaverse Follow

dont question him

85,628 notes

☣️ sparkygoboom Follow

hey guys real question are human/mobian relationships problematic

💠 extremegayr Follow

op is about to start the anthro church schism of the fifteenth year all over again

🛞 mobotropolis Follow

ok but in all seriousness did your mom never teach you that part of history

🎢 marxiobros Follow

someone doesn't know about the united federations public school system

🛞 mobotropolis Follow

what the fuck is a public school

⏭️ drowningmusic Follow

⚄ paradoxprism Follow

are we gonna talk about op's chaos radiation fetish

💠 extremegayr Follow

OP'S WHAT NOW

🏞 mobiancrossing Follow

ok but am i the only one who thinks that the public school system would be a good idea if handled right? like i know it's traditional to learn from your parents and then experience the world on our own from the ages of 7-13 but like combining all our knowledge and learning together doesnt seem like a bad idea

☠️ fabian-vane-number-1-hater Follow

bitch that's what the internet is for

🌅 s0leanna-apple-barrell

yeah where else am i gonna learn to make infinite chaos emeralds

❇️ freesurge Follow

"infinite chaos emeralds" that's called the phantom ruby

🏳️‍🌈 rainbowwispforgayrights Follow

everybody on this site has brain damage

❇️ freesurge Follow

yeah. from the radiation

603,573 notes

🐸 froggysfriend

caught this today

🏝 digginginthegroundfortubers

if anything happens to this blog i genuinely hope eggman blows us all up as punishment

950,420 notes

🐊 teamchaotixofficial

Hey guys! Sorry to do this again but rent's a little tight this month :( If we've ever solved a case for you guys or made you guys smile, please consider sending a ko-fi our way! we just need a few rings to get through the month <3

6 notes

🖼 give-the-koco-a-gun Follow

do we ever talk about that time the sky turned blood-red and shadow the hedgehog's demon dad descended from on high to murder us all and we only barely survived

❤️‍🔥 songoose4evr Follow

shadow fixed it it's fine

🎮 n0cturnity

yeah that was like twelve apocalypses ago move on

🎆 robotniksbignaturals Follow

kinda wanted to bang black doom tbh

🖼 give-the-koco-a-gun Follow

THE DEVIL???? FROM THE BIBLE????

🎆 robotniksbignaturals Follow

yeah. move over gayboy i'm boutta be shadow's new dad

856,301 notes

🗑️ berrybarry

starting a conspiracy that time hasnt moved since 2006

🗑️ berrybarry

why the fuck was i shadowbanned after posting this

8 notes

🤡 clownfinite Follow

tfw you finally save up enough rings for ice cream and you go outside and get hit by swatbot pieces and the rings just go fuckin everywhere

587 notes

🔷 sonicinthewild

34,452 notes

🌌 h-o-l-o-l-y-n-x

so did y'all see that genesis wave or was it just me

0 notes

🆙 planetsgiantcrack Follow

the virgin tweeter "if you use a bad word in the same tweet as the word 'cream' you get obliterated off the site" vs this chad site of "i want to put knuckles back in a microwave"

💟 presidentyaoi Follow

BACK????

69,849 notes

⬜️ chao-and-wisps-4-ever-so-cute-2 Follow

ok posting my first fanart to this site pls be nice! <3

2 notes

🌔 emeraldfwuitgummy Follow

why does tails look like he's always about to say "it fucken WIMDY"

🦊 miles-prower-official

Hello, @emeraldfwuitgummy!

I actually quote that image on a constant basis! Sonic thinks it's hilarious every time. He's quite the fan of memes, and it's nice to get a laugh out of him!

Formally,

Dr. Miles "Tails" Prower, PHD

🌔 emeraldfwuitgummy Follow

SO WAS ANYONE GOING TO TELL ME THAT TAILS WAS ON THIS FUCKING SITE OR--

🏅 iwishhumanswerereal Follow

do. do you not know he created tailblr. dude it's in the name lmao

🌔 emeraldfwuitgummy Follow

he

WHAT

🍭 milfwisp Follow

didn't eggman invent this site???

🪫 veganswatbot

THE EGG ABANDONED SCRAMBLR IN ITS TIME OF NEED AND THE FOX RAISED US FROM THE ASHES. YOU WILL NOT DISRESPECT HIM

🦊 miles-prower-official

Hello, @milfwisp and @veganswatbot!

Very good question! This site was Eggman's until I ate his bones. Thank you for engaging! :D

Formally,

Dr. Miles "Tails" Prower, PHD

🌔 emeraldfwuitgummy Follow

YOU

WHAT

🌭 sonicsays

what's not clicking

[hauntingblue]

I cant believe I am already on fem law... this happened like 2 days ago I cannot do it....

[rumisgf]

❝ THINGS THEY DO THAT GIVE YOU BUTTERFLIES ! ❞ ╰┈➤ MHA EDITION (PART 2!)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: y’all wanted a part two i shall give a part two

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ includes: katsuki bakugou, hitoshi shinsou, shoto todoroki, denki kaminari, iida tenya, kirishima eijirou

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: black!reader obv, cursing, mentions of drug usage/marijuana, suggestive if u squint, fem reader implied, mentioning of babies/children

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

✮ wipes your tears sort of aggressively but only because he’s so urgent to comfort you and take care of you

✮ always hugs you by your lower waist

✮ when you go to the gym together, he’s the type to always say “c’mon, you can do one more.” or “do three more”

✮ ruffles your hair/flicks your forehead in a teasing way

✮ “act right.”/“watch out.”

✮ doesn’t remind you to drink water— he simply justs brings water bottles up to your mouth and tells you to “open up”

✮ if you have any, he cares for your pets like they’re his own

✮ just something about the sight of him holding a baby

✮ bites you just because he can

✮ pulls you into his lap whenever he’s tired of your attitude

✮ gets super close to your face like he’s gonna kiss you but pulls away just to mess with you

✮ “that’s my girl” in the most proud voice ever every single time

TODOROKI SHOTO

✮ any time he does get high he’s all over you and staring at you with half lidded eyes

✮ it’s just something about the way he curses man.

✮ loves falling asleep on the phone with you and takes facetime photos of you sleeping because he thinks you look like an angel

✮ runs his thumb over your hand whenever you hold hands

✮ loves giving earlobe kisses

✮ will casually be like “when we have kids,”

✮ sends voice memos ranging from something funny that happened in class to how much he misses you and needs to see you

✮ kisses your lip gloss off every chance he gets right after complimenting how nice your lip combo looks

✮ sends you pictures of yourself and says “you look so pretty in this”

✮ him whispering in your ear.

✮ has your contact as the only one pinned in his messages

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

✮ pats away your tears with his finger instead of wiping them (those who watch love island usa and are kordell + serena fans know what i’m talking about)

✮ places his hand on the small of your waist to guide your somewhere or move you out the way

✮ constant forehead kisses

✮ lifts you up and spins you around when he’s excited to hug you

✮ guides you into the right form when you workout together

✮ runs his hands down your waist and hips when he’s checking you out while you’re right in front of him

✮ him around kids. that’s all.

✮ gives you flowers pretty much every week— and one time he gave you a money bouquet for your birthday

✮ flexes for you when he feels you staring at him and pretends he’s not doing it on purpose

✮ throws his arm around you and presses you flush against his chest when you go to sit on the couch next to him

✮ refers to you as his “wife” to his friends

KAMINARI DENKI

✮ you could have been rotting in bed all day and when he facetimes you he always greets you with something along the lines of “hello my beautiful princess” with a lovesick tone of voice

✮ calls you “mama” and “ma”

✮ obsessed with skinship because he aches to be able to “crawl inside your skin” and just needs to be close to you

✮ blows kisses at you from across the room

✮ for comfort, he runs his fingers through your hair and rocks you back and forth while hugging you

✮ his morning voice :)))

✮ lets you bite him and encourages it

✮ gets very touchy when you’re on his lap

✮ the king of “i know you’re probably asleep, but” texts

✮ goes on rants about how gentle and how well he would care for you when you’re one day pregnant with his children

✮ always calling you his “pretty baby”/“pretty girl”

✮ always posts pretty candid pictures of you and makes heartfelt story posts for every birthday, anniversary, and valentine’s day

HITOSHI SHINSOU

✮ has read for you + sung you to sleep on multiple occasions

✮ grabs you by your chin to force eye contact

✮ “say please”

✮ checks you every time you have an attitude with a smirk on his face

✮ has a habit of biting his lip

✮ says “there you go, babe” way too much.

✮ glares at anyone who flirts with you while tightly wrapping an arm around your waist

✮ has made multiple shared playlists for the both of you

✮ says he’s “gatekeeping” you because you’re just too pretty and he has to keep you to himself

✮ plays with your fingers when he’s bored or nervous

✮ buries his face into your neck to bask in your scent when he hugs you

✮ randomly stares at your for a full five minutes when you’re talking, barely listening to a word you’re saying, then lovingly sighs “i love you so much…”

IIDA TENYA

✮ always opens every door for you

✮ holds your hands while walking across the street or through the hallways

✮ very protective over you and will respectfully cuss anybody out who disrespects you

✮ pretty much has replaced your name is his vocabulary with “honey” and “sweetheart”

✮ never calls you hot— he always calls you beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, or stunning

✮ grabs you by your sleeve or your belt loop to take you somewhere if you don’t hear him call your name the third time

✮ the thought of ever calling you his “bitch” disgusts him, he calls you his lady or his love instead

✮ will immediately grab the nearest box of tissues to wipe your tears or your nose whenever you’re crying

✮ kisses your cheek to greet you and say goodbye

✮ has deep conversations about your future together when you get to that point in the relationship, and is open about how much his heart swells at imagining you as a mother

✮ kisses your forehead when he notices you asleep on his chest

© rumisgf

[sleepyjuice]

r u mine? — jj maybank

summary: you weren’t sure what to call you and jj. friends with benefits? a situationship? either way, the two of you certainly acted like more than friends.

word count: 4181

warnings: lowkey toxic!jj but we love him, jealousy, smut 18+!!!, unprotected p in v sex, squirting, creampie, some fluff

a/n: i am quite proud of this one so I really hope y’all like it! let me know what you think! <3

“Ugh, I hate that word.” You shook your head, taking a swig of your nearly lukewarm beer, grimacing at the skunked taste on your tongue.

“What else would you call it?” Sarah scoffed, raising her eyebrows inquisitively at you as she playfully shoved your knee.

“Hanging out, I don’t know…” you mumbled, your feet playing absently with the sand below you.

“Yeah, okay. It’s okay to call it what it is. A situationship.” Sarah grinned, nodding her head oh so matter of factly at you.

You and Sarah somehow ended up at a kook party. It just kind of happened. It had been awhile since the two of you had been to one, but seeing as the rest of your friends either had plans or were working, it was either this or another night at home, but the former somehow seemed only slightly more appealing.

You didn’t like labels, but if you had to pick one, you were a pogue. You were in a similar boat as Sarah and Kiara. Rich parents, but you hated nothing more than the snobby, ‘I’m so much better than you’ lifestyle the people on your side of the island lived by. By no means were you ungrateful for the life you were given. Your privilege was not ignored. But it was the country club luncheons and the uptight fakeness and the general attitudes of those you grew up around that you wanted no part of. So one day, you met Kiara, and the two of you clicked almost instantly, both of you finding solace in someone who shared the same views. Next up you met Sarah, and the three of you were inseparable. Your friendship was great until it wasn’t, and you and Kie found home in a group of boys from the cut while Sarah completely turned the other way.

But that was old news, history. Sarah came around, started macking on John b, and the three of you eventually made up. Shit happens.

So here you were, on your third beer, sitting on the beach next to Sarah, the full blown kook party going on only a few hundred feet behind you. The two of you tried to mingle, but that lasted for a total of about five minutes before you took advantage of several coolers stocked to the brim with beers, each of you grabbing a few cans before making your way down to the mostly empty beach in front of the Oceanside home holding the party.

You found comfort in the peace and tranquility of the ocean, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating your senses could have very well brought you peace, if your phone wasn’t blowing up with messages every few minutes.

jj maybank: you really ain’t gonna text me back? got me over here double texting and shit??

jj maybank: knew you’d go back to full kook eventually. my lifestyle ain’t enough for you huh?

jj maybank: alright that was out of pocket I can’t lie my b

You and jj had gotten along since the second you met. Apparently Kiara had been hyping you up, because surprisingly, jj showed zero apprehension to letting another ‘kook’ join his circle. The attraction was also immediate, on both ends, but that took a bit longer to come out. Shared glances weren’t uncommon, neither were legs brushing against each other on the boat, even though there was more than enough room for the two of you to sit apart.

You and jj were friends for about a month before you hooked up the first time. It wasn’t anything crazy, you were both drunk and horny and one thing led to another. It was sloppy and pretty quick. But instead of it being a one and done deal, it kept happening, no alcohol involved.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment where it went from purely sex to more, but it just happened. You and jj would spend time alone without the rest of your friends, cuddling on the couch at the chateau while everyone was out, or you calling jj late at night sobbing after a particularly nasty argument with your parents, which led to him climbing through your bedroom window and staying the night, sneaking out before you woke up the next day. Since that night, you would keep your bedroom window cracked ever so slightly, and most nights, like clockwork, jj would make the familiar climb up and through the window to be with you. Sometimes this led to sex, but other times it didn’t. That’s why it was weird.

You had both agreed that you weren’t in a relationship. jj for one didn’t want to commit, and you didn’t either. Several shitty relationships prior to meeting jj would taint your view on love. So it seemed like you were on the same page, but both of your actions proved otherwise.

This is why it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence that jj was currently blowing up your phone. For two people who are not in a relationship, you both had your fair share of jealousy issues. But you shouldn’t, because you’re not in a relationship.

“He’s freaking out right now,” you groaned, turning to Sarah with an exasperated sigh as your eyes glazed over the messages on your phone, “he’s mad that I’m not responding and that I’m here, but he knows it’s Kelce’s birthday party and so he assumes Jake is here since they’re best friends… but he’s acting like I’m gonna do something, like are you serious?” You vented, finishing off the last few drops of your beer.

Jake was your most recent ex. Total asshole. You cringed every time you thought about your time shared together, hating the fact that you ever gave him the time of day. He was overly preppy, but also overly possessive, yet he still cheated on you. Imagine that.

“He’s mad about Jake?!” Sarah gaped, leaning in closer to you as she glanced down at your phone, not missing the texts flooding through from jj.

“That’s what I’m saying… I hate him, and it’s not like I’m gonna cheat on him —“

“Ah, you can’t cheat on someone you’re not dating.” Sarah hummed, shaking her head at you.

“Ugh, you know what I mean. This situationship bullshit is so stupid. But either way, that’s a valid point. Not only do I want nothing to do with Jake, but even if I did, jj isn’t my boyfriend, so he shouldn’t even be mad,” you rambled, pausing for a moment before looking back down to your phone, “yeah, no, that’s a good point, that’s what I’m gonna say.” You mumbled as you began typing out a response to jj’s multitude of texts.

you: you say it’s about the kooks but seems to me like it’s one kook in particular you’re mad about

you: yeah, jake is here. I ain’t dumb jj, you’re transparent as fuck lmao

you: also I’m just trying to figure out why you’re mad bc you know I hate him but even if I wanted him, why would that be your problem? We’re not dating soooo??

you: have a good night at work! <3

You locked your phone, but not before putting it on do not disturb and shoving it in the back pocket of your denim shorts.

“Oh, well now he’s gonna lose his shit even more.” Sarah giggled, having watched you type out your messages.

“I don’t care, let him. He’s pissing me off.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh along with Sarah. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the thought of jj freaking out with jealousy over you made your stomach tingle. Just a little bit though…

An hour had passed since you had texted jj and you haven’t checked your phone once. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit curious to see his response, but your stubbornness was strong, outweighing your curiosity for the time being. The four beers in your system helped too, lightening up your overall mood and somewhat helping you forget about jj for a little while.

You were only a little tipsy at this point, but you and Sarah had mutually agreed to call it a night and start your trek home.

You both felt generally safe walking home. Streets were pretty well lit and it was figure 8, all the drunk creepy frat guys you had to worry about were down the street at the party.

“Hey, text me when you get home, okay? And keep me updated on jj whenever you check your phone. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t show up at Kelce’s after that exchange.” Sarah giggled as the two of you approached her house, giving her a quick hug goodbye and promising to update her. You only lived one street away from her, and she had plans with John b early the next morning so you decided to not sleepover this time.

You continued your journey home after seeing that Sarah had made it inside safely, sighing to yourself as the soft island breeze gently blew against your face, cooling down your slightly flushed cheeks.

You arrived home only five minutes later, tiptoeing through your dark home so as to not wake your sleeping parents, humming softly to yourself once you made your way upstairs and into your bedroom, pulling your shirt over your head and letting it fall onto the floor before fishing your phone out of your back pocket and tossing it onto the bed as you went to unbutton your shorts.

“Oh, so you do have a phone.”

You gasped, nearly screaming as you scrambled to flip your lights on, immediately spotting jj laid back on your bed, hands behind his head as he leaned seemingly comfortably against your headboard.

“jj what the fuck?!” You whisper yelled, wishing more than anything that your parents weren’t home so you could truly yell at him. You didn’t have to question how he got in, though. You had left your window cracked like you always did, as jj would have more than likely came over tonight anyways, but that was before you had started bickering over text. He had done this before, too, surprising you in your bedroom while you were at work or out with friends, coming home to the boy waiting for you in your bed.

“You put your shit on ‘do not text’ or whatever and I couldn’t get ahold of you. I was going to go straight to Kelce’s party, but I took a moment to consider the fact that that wouldn’t be a good idea, so I decided to wait for you here. Were you just gonna ignore me all night?” He sat up once you had acknowledged his presence, his hands playing with one of your pillows as he looked at you.

“First of all, it’s ’do not disturb’ and second, you were blowing up my shit and being annoying. Therefore, you were disturbing me.” You rolled your eyes, feeling jj’s eyes on you as you grabbed a sleep shirt from your closet and pulled it over your head before sitting on the edge of your bed as you worked to untie your shoes.

“Why do you do this to me?” jj whispered after a few moments of silence, scooting himself closer to where you were sat.

“What am I doing to you, jj?” You asked, not looking at him as you removed your first shoe, now untying the other.

“You — fuck. You make me fuckin’ crazy. I don’t like that I feel like this.” He muttered, and you could feel by the movements in the bed that he was anxiously adjusting and readjusting his hat, an anxious tick you had picked up quite early in your friendship with him.

“I make you crazy?” You questioned, your brows raising as you kicked off your other shoe and finally turned to look at the boy sat behind you on your bed.

“Yeah, and I hate it. Got me… got me checking my phone every two seconds to see if you texted me, fuckin’ — picturing you with that douchebag ex of yours… literally has my heart pounding. Like I can’t think about anything else.” He admitted, and you couldn’t miss the way his knee was shaking anxiously, his fingers playing absently with your blanket, yet he still kept his gaze on you.

“jj…” you breathed, your voice softening now. You felt for him. You knew it wasn’t easy for him to express his feelings, and you didn’t want to dismiss the way he was feeling just because you had argued. You would also be lying if you said you wouldn’t be jealous if he was around his ex all night… but you can blame that on your shitty past relationships, not because you didn’t want jj around girls he used to call his… definitely unrelated.

“Listen, I get what you’re saying, okay?” You sighed, slowly placing your hand on his bouncing knee. “But… we aren’t dating. We’re just friends who sleep together, you know?” You added quietly, hating the words that left your mouth, but it was the truth. There was no gentle way to say it.

“You’re right, you’re right. But let me just,” he reached for your hand over his knee, moving it to your side, “let’s just not talk about that right now, okay?” He licked his bottom lip, his hands now finding your thighs, rubbing the soft skin slowly, his fingertips inching their way up past the top of your shorts and underneath your shirt.

You didn’t speak as he took a hold of the bottom of your shirt, lifting the fabric over your head, leaving you completely bare from the waist up. You didn’t protest, your body heating up at his touch like it always did. He let out a long breath as he took in the sight of you before him, his hands quickly grabbing your tits, squeezing the soft flesh in his calloused hands, causing your back to arch slightly, your lips parting as an almost inaudible gasp left your lips.

His eyes found yours quickly following your reaction and you nodded at him, no words spoken between the two of you as you fully gave into his touch, crawling all the way onto your bed and scooting yourself back towards your pillows.

“So pretty..” he cooed, his fingers pinching your hard nipples, making you whimper softly, fully giving into him. You reached forward, pulling his hat off of his head and tossing it onto the floor alongside your shirt, your fingers entangling in his messy locks as you pulled him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his middle, bringing his face right up to yours before you connected your lips.

You hummed into the familiar feeling of your soft lips against his, and only a few seconds passed before your mouths had both parted and your tongues were moving sloppily together, his soft groans sending vibrations into your mouth and through your body, your core feeling even hotter and wetter as the seconds passed.

His hands continued to toy with your tits, but they eventually began to trail down your stomach, unbuttoning your shorts blindly as you continued to kiss. You lifted your hips up as he tugged the denim down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear.

You opened your mouth in protest when he suddenly pulled away from the kiss, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath, about to say something about him pulling away but stopping once you watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, and your attention was now turned to his naked torso.

“Shh, I got you, I got you.” He murmured, his hands now tugging the zipper of his cargo shorts down, ridding himself of his shorts entirely, the two of you now only in underwear. Your eyes flew immediately to the ever present bulge in his boxers, and you didn’t miss the wet spot right where the tip of his dick was, no doubt leaking precum. You had almost an identical wet spot in your underwear as well, your arousal practically dripping out of you as each second passed, eager for his touch.

“jj, please.” You grumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lowered himself back down to you, your lips connecting again, this time moving a lot quicker and more sloppily than only moments ago. Your centers both connected within seconds, you bucking your hips up to grind against him and him grinding himself down against you. Who had gone for it first, who knew. You were certainly on the same page.

“Please what, baby? Hm?” He breathed, holding himself up above you with only one hand as his other wriggled its way between your bodies and down to your wet core, fingers barely even teasing at the waistband before he slipped them inside, cupping your pussy.

“Fuck —“ you moaned, shamelessly grinding yourself against his hand, desperately aching for more of him. The feeling of just his hand had you crumbling, any thoughts of your disagreement from earlier were long gone and forgotten in this moment.

“Use your words, baby. You want my fingers?” He questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, yes, please. Touch me.” You answered immediately, and that was all it took for him to yank your underwear down your legs and push his middle finger inside of you, effortlessly sliding into your slick yet tight walls. Your head fell back onto your pillow, a long exhale leaving your swollen lips as he pumped his finger quickly, adding a second after you began to adjust.

“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ soaked, woman.” He spoke lowly, quickening his pace once he found a good rhythm, curling his fingers into your g-spot, emitting soft whimpers and curses from your lips, you still being half mindful of your sleeping parents down the hall.

The sight of jj’s furrowed brows and parted pink lips had your stomach turning, and you watched as he watched intently at the sight of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy, a look of concentration mixed with arousal evident upon his features. That and the spots his fingers had found inside of you had you crumbling quickly, your fingertips that were lazily resting in his hair now gripped tightly into his locks, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly.

“jj, gonna cum, oh fuck, oh — oh god.” You panted, head flat on your pillows now as you felt him quicken his pace, hearing his own moans as you pulled on his hair.

“Yeah, let go for me, baby, come on now.” He urged, and that was all it took for you to let go, your orgasm hitting you at full force. He quickly shot his free hand up to your face to cover your mouth, quieting your loud cries of pleasure. He loved the sound of your sweet moans, but being caught by your parents would be less than ideal. You cried into his palm, your juices gushing out of you and all over jj’s hand and torso, dripping down and soaking his stomach and boxers.

“Oh fuck, that’s right, so good, so good, huh?” He cooed, his fingers slowing down as you rode out your high, uncovering your mouth once you had fully finished and planting several soft kisses all over your parted lips as you worked to catch your breath.

You lifted your head after a moment, your eyes opening to meet his hungry gaze, untangling your fingers from his hair to reach for his boxers. You needed more of him.

“Need you now.” You spoke, voice still a bit shaky as you had just caught your breath. You removed his boxers with his help, his leaking cock springing free from the restraint of the tight fabric. Your mouth watered at the sight, watching as he pumped himself slowly, finally giving himself some relief.

“Need me inside you, sweet girl? Hm?” He licked his bottom lip as you nodded eagerly, a smug grin present on his lips at your neediness. You didn’t care, he could be cocky after the orgasm he just gave you. He could have his moment.

“Please. Please fuck me.” You pleaded, pushing your hips up to rub yourself against his cock. He groaned at the contact, giving himself a few more pumps before tapping his tip against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp and push your thighs together purely out of reflex.

“Ahh, keep those legs open for me. Gotta open up so I can fuck you, sweet thing.” He tisked, pushing your thighs open with his free hand, positioning his cock against your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. Once halfway inside, his hand trailed down from your thigh to grab your ankle, lifting your leg to wrap around his back, quickly doing the same with your other leg.

Finally getting you positioned like he wanted, he pushed himself all the way in, jaw going slack once he bottomed out, grunting at the depth he reached inside of you.

“Fuuckkk,” he breathed, his messy hair falling onto his forehead as he looked down at the two of you, fully connected. He inhaled sharply before he began moving, struggling to keep his eyes open as your tight pussy hugged his cock perfectly. But he wanted to watch you, that was one of the best parts.

You did everything in your power to not scream, his cock immediately hitting all the right spots inside of you, his pelvis hitting your clit with every thrust. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning however, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold you up, keeping your body somewhat up. Your fingernails found home in the soft skin of his back, each trust and movement he made surely forming scratches into the skin.

“So good, so good,” he moaned, sweat beading past his hairline as he found the perfect pace, his balls slapping your ass as his cock disappeared inside of you, “you’re fucking perfect, yeah, oh fuck.” He breathed shakily, almost whining as you squeezed your legs tighter around his torso, his body pushing closer to you if possible, his dick hitting deep inside your wet pussy.

You were a mess beneath him. The tension throughout the night and the way he was fucking you perfectly was not doing anything to prolong your orgasm. But you could feel by the way he pulsated inside of you that he wasn’t going to last long either.

“Shit, I’m close, baby. Where d’you want me to cum?” He asked, slowing his thrusts for a moment as he attempted to gain composure of himself, wanting to give you one last orgasm before he finished.

You didn’t even hesitate before responding.

“Inside.” You answered, eyes looking up to meet his.

He cocked his head in confusion, stilling his movements following your words, almost unsure if he had heard you correctly.

“Don’t fuck with me —“

“I’m not, jj. Please. Want you to cum inside me.” You assured him, pushing your hips up, urging him to move again.

“You… okay.” He resumed his movements, each thrust bringing both you and him closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck jj, I’m gonna cu-“

“Say you’re mine.” He cut you off, not stopping his movements, his breathing was shaky but his voice was steady, and he was serious.

“What?” You panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Say you’re mine.” He repeated himself, soft grunts following his words as he watched your face below him.

You knew what he was saying, and maybe it was the impending orgasm, or maybe it was the fact that you had never felt this way with anyone before him. Maybe after you said it and you both finished you would both get hit with that post nut clarity and go back on your words, but you could figure all of that out later. You could be his. You wanted to be his.

“I’m yours.” You spoke, and that was all it took for him to reach his end, his balls tightening, thrusts sloppy but still quick as he released inside of you in hot spurts, his face falling forward as he moaned, triggering your own release.

The wet sounds of his cock pushing into your cum filled pussy filled the room, his movements slowing down as you both rode out your highs together, eventually stopping completely before he slowly pulled himself out of you.

His cum leaked out of you almost immediately, but jj was quick to reach over the side of the bed and grab his shirt, placing it under your leaking pussy.

“Shit,” he breathed, rubbing your lower stomach gently as your bodies both began to relax, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips gently.

“You still mine?” He asked after a few moments of silence, mentally preparing himself for your rejection, nervous you had only said that in the heat of the moment. He meant what he said though.

“Mhm, I’m still yours.”

[cvpidzcvrse]

𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

MDNI, like pls omg leave me alone

✦ A/N: omg this my is first time writing a small story or even smut in a whileeee. To introduce myself, i made a tiny little post, check it out!! anyways, enjoy this one loves!!

⋆.ೃ࿔*synopsis: Armin had pissed you off at Connie's birthday bash and you weren't gonna let him forget about it. But little did you know you weren't the only stern one in the relationship.

⋆.ೃ࿔*wc: 2,097

⋆.ೃ࿔*warnings: slight msub, switchy, arguments, begging, praise, make-up sex, degradation, missionary, mating press, pussy slaps, squirting, oral fem!receiving, slight kissing of the feet, p in v, and ofc creampie (practice safe sex)

(I'm an advocate for top armin.)

Armin Arlert pissed you off. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t get mad at a man or even throw a fit at one because you didn’t want to waste your time. But here you are, in the living room of your shared apartment. Y’all have been arguing for hours since you came home from Connie’s party, You’re sure the neighbors are posted up with a bag of popcorn and a free show they can hear through the walls. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone wrote a book about it.

You let out another sigh before crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at Armin once again. He rolls his eyes in response before sitting down on a chair next to your kitchen island. 

That sassy mothafucka.

“You know I don’t fuck with that bitch Minnie and you still started chatting her up. What? You wanna fuck her next? Huh?” You huffed out while looking at him with some crazed look. He must’ve thought you were some dumb heffer who doesn’t know when a girl is flirting with her man. You practically have steam blowing out of your ears, anyone can see that you’re pissed. Contrary to your current attitude,  Armin looks at you with that worried and loving look in his eyes. 

“I didn’t know you didn’t fuck with her, love! I swear I never would’ve talked to her if I knew. Also, I wasn’t ‘chatting her up’ we had a 2-second conversation and that’s all.” He responds this time he gets up from his seat and starts walking towards you. Once he’s a breath away from you he grabs your hand and holds it for a few seconds before you snatch it away and walk past him, your heels clicking dramatically on the floor. You hear him let out a sigh as you take your dear time walking to your bedroom. You weren’t going to let his loverboy tactics get to you, you seemingly shook it off.

“Babe come on, you’re acting crazy.” Crazy. Crazy he says, you stop in your tracks before taking a breath and slowly turning to face him. You blink at him for a bit before walking towards him. The only thing that can be heard is your heels connecting with the floor and your heart pounding out of your chest. “Crazy? You think I’m fucking crazy?” You squint at him, the tone in your voice daring him to say it again. You stop about 2 feet in front of him, with your hands on your hips and an angry glint in your eyes. “No…no. I didn’t say you were crazy. I said you were acting crazy. Baby, you know I would never call you crazy.” He’s reaching to you with his eyes, pleading that you understand where he’s coming from, but the anger never leaves your eyes.

“No nigga, you just called me fucking crazy. Talk with caution, because I’m not having it.” You step close enough to slightly nudge his chest with your acrylic nails. You stare at him for a bit before turning and walking back to your bedroom. 

“That is not what I fucking said and you know that! You’re twisting my words!” He continues to plead after you but you’re not having it. You just chuckle a bit at the statements. “Don’t walk away from me, (✧)!” Slam!

The door shuts with such force you can hear the neighbors banging on the shared bedroom wall. You walk towards your vanity and take a seat on the matching chair. You catch your reflection in the mirror before letting out a frustrated sigh. The front door slammed closed before you let out a loud groan and started your nightly routine.

1 hour later

You’re lying in bed in a graphic tee and shorts, alright by Victoria Monet playing softly in the background. You fix the purple silk bonnet on your head before finishing up the paragraph you sent to your group chat. You’ve told your best friends everything about the argument, of course since they’re your ride or dies they completely agree with you. Terms like ‘fuck that nigga’ and ‘fuck ass nigga’ are being said constantly which brings a small smile to your face. You continue to type before you hear a knock on the bedroom door. You know it’s Armin, and still holding a grudge you don’t get up or answer. You hear the knock again but this time it’s louder. 

“Love, can I come in? I want to talk.” 

You hear his soft voice through the door, sounding like a sad puppy. You let out a small sigh before mumbling a soft ‘Come in’. He slowly opens the door and notices your smooth brown skin shimmer in the glow of the fairy lights hanging above your bed. He melts at the sight of your body sitting there but completely ignores the irked look on your face. 

“I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry for arguing with you, I knew you were right just, Please…”

He pleads softly, taking another step towards. You sit up on the bed still looking up at him with an ‘I’m not having it.’ look on your face. 

“Armin-”

“No…Listen to me, please. I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. You were right, I was being stubborn, I wasn’t listening to you. This isn’t us, and you know that.…”

He rambles on softly, still looking at you with pleading eyes. He takes another step forward before grabbing your hand softly. 

“I can do better…for you…I don’t deserve you. I’ll spend lifetimes to be the man you deserve.”

You blink in surprise at his sincerity. You sigh softly before taking your hand out of his. You look up at him shaking your head.

“Armin, come on…you don’t-”

“Baby, please? Forgive me. Do you want me to beg? I’ll do anything.” Armin starts getting down on his knees in front of your feet. Your mouth goes agape before trying to pull him back up.

“Armin, please you-”

“Baby please, please, please, forgive me. My love…” He starts begging on the ground. He grabs your leg and starts rubbing it softly. You sharply gasp at his soft touch and his cold hands. He trails small kisses up your leg, mumbling soft ‘sorry’ and ‘forgive me’. He makes it up to your thighs before looking up at you with those pitiful puppy dog eyes. 

“Let me make you feel good. Fuck my face, please.”

He begs while giving your plump thighs loving kisses. You cave into his lover boy approach and slightly open your legs. He smiles lightly before grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders. You grab his hair roughly and bury his face into your pussy, he moans into it before harshly grabbing your hips. He gives your clit small kisses before you groan with his teasing. You grab his hair and pull it harshly so he’s looking up at you. 

“Eat it right.” You tug at his hair again before he pushes his face into your cunt and sucks your clit hard. You let out a breathy moan before dipping your head back in satisfaction.

“I’ll do better for you, I promise.” 

He groans again, sending vibrations straight to your clit. You let out another moan before he pushes his tongue further inside. He takes his free hand to rub the bulge in his pants. He can cum just from eating you and he wouldn’t complain. You can feel your orgasm approaching as he’s working wonders on your clit. 

“Armin…I’m about to..”

He nods slowly before licking more aggressively on your clit. He chuckles a bit as your hips thrust into his face. 

“Come on baby, you can do it. Do it for me.” 

He mumbles into your lips before he does one more good attack on your clit before you cover his face in your juices. You let out a loud moan as you try to catch your breath, you look down at him as he pulls away with a string of saliva leaving his lips. He looks at you with his pussy drunk eyes before smiling softly. 

“What else does this greedy pussy need? Huh?”

His voice makes a shiver go down your spine and your pussy grows even wetter. As he gets up you hear the unbuckling of his belt. He slowly undoes every buckle and unzips his pants. You whimper slightly at his teasing and give him a small frown.

“I know baby, I know. Lay back for me..” He whispers in your ear before putting his hand on your shoulder and softly pushing you back. He lifts your legs on his shoulders, letting out a sigh while admiring your glistening lips. 

“You’re such a slutty mess..”

He mumbles before taking his cock out and slapping it against your clit. You whimper slightly before looking up at him with pleading eyes. He just gives you the same pussy drunk stare before chuckling. 

“Please?”

He gets closer to your face, your nose practically touching. You nod quickly before his cock sinks into you, he lets out a moan before slowly moving in and out. Your eyes roll back from the pleasure heading straight to your head. Armin’s pace quickens as his moans get louder.

“You piss me off sometimes, you know that?”

His pace grows harsher and sloppier after every word he says. Your moans grow louder as tears start building. He takes pleasure in turning you into a dick-addicted slut, he looks down to take in the view. Your tits bounce every time his dick plunges into you, his cock twitches at the sight before his head falls back with pleasure. 

“You love making me mad, just so I can treat you like a slut.”

You’re completely zoned out as his cock is hitting that spot you loved. He’s turned you into putty in his hands, you’re a moaning mess getting put in your place by your boyfriend. 

“You take this dick so fucking good, Fuuuck.” 

He lets out another drawn-out moan before slowing down his pace. You let out a loud whimper as your eyes shoot open at the sudden change of pace. 

“Minnie…”

He laughs at your frayed voice and continues his torment with his very slow thrust. 

“Look at it go in and out, look at what this dick does to you, baby.”

He smirks before pushing your knees to your shoulder and picking up the pace again. Your bedroom is flooded with the aroma of sex, your moans can be heard over the music that’s playing. The neighbors will definitely give y’all another noise complaint, but you could care less about that. Armin’s pace starts getting sloppy as he speeds up, pushing you into a mating press. 

“You drive me…fucking crazy, shit.” 

He moans loudly again before he leans down and gives you a messy kiss. A string of saliva leaves his lips before he harshly slams his cock into that favorite spot of yours. He’s fucking you deep into the mattress, you don’t know where your back starts and the mattress begins. Your eyes are practically stuck in your head, the bliss is so strong you can't barely moan anymore. You claw at the bedsheets as you feel pressure building in the pit of your stomach. 

“Minnie, I’m about to cum.” You let out another soft moan before he speeds up his pace again. 

“Say…say you forgive me. Say…it” He groans as he quickens the pace, the squeaking of your mattress gets louder as he loses control and completely fumbles. 

“You can’t cum unless you say it, just say it…please.” 

He’s plowing into your pussy so good you’re too stunned to speak. After a few seconds, you compose yourself enough to say the words he’s been wanting to hear. 

“I for…forgive you. Please let me cum, please I need it minnie.”

“Good girl…”

He takes his hand and rubs circles around your clit, tears fall from the corner of your eyes before reaching your relief. 

“Fuuuck..”

You let out the loudest moan you could muster, now you’re 100% sure the neighbors heard that. Armin lets out one last sharp stroke before he cums inside of you. He collapses on top of you before planting a kiss on your neck. 

“Do you really forgive me..?’

He asks with a huff while trying to catch his breath, he smiles at you softly with that pussy drunk grin. 

“I don’t know yet.”

You laugh out while stroking his hair. 

“Fine, I’ll just fuck you until you do.”

[piratefishmama]

Just ONE chance | Part 2

“Are you gonna message him?” It was later in the evening, Rosie was in the living room watching some gameshow while Stevie sat at the kitchen island, having just finished cleaning up after dinner, Robin facing her through her phone, stuffing her face with what looked like French fries.

“Dusty thinks I should but… should I? It doesn’t feel too… I dunno, desperate? Cause I’m not desperate, I could not care less about dating rockstars, in fact before all this the idea of dating a rockstar would have never crossed my m—“

“Stevie” Robin cut her off “if anyone seems desperate right now, it’s him. It ain’t you, nobody in their right mind could think it was you. You were just doing your own damn thing and he cringe-failed so hard he broke the internet. Listen… you don’t have to do shit, EVEN IF Dustin is telling you to. Dustin doesn’t know everything.” Stevie bit her bottom lip in pensive thought, Robin on the other end of the video call stuffed another French fry into her mouth before asking, “do you want to though? That’s the important thing, do you want to?”

“I don’t KNOW, that’s the problem. It’s nice… I guess… to be wanted, but it’s not just about me anymore.” It was about Rosie. Stevie’s life wouldn’t be the only life impacted if she took that chance. Maybe if she were younger, maybe if she didn’t have Rosie things would be different, maybe she’d have been wild and jumped at it, but she had Rosie, and Rosie mattered way more to her than anything a stranger on the internet could give her.

“It’s a little bit about you, Stevie, and it’s okay to let it be about you. You’ve spent literal years putting yourself on the back burner, even Mike got hitched before you, like who called that?” Nobody. Nobody called that, even though he and Will had been dancing around each other since kindergarten, nobody would have called that. “We both know Billy wouldn’t have wanted you to be on your own like this either.”

“What if he’s weird about Rosie?”

“Then he hits the road, simple. I heard he’s good with kids though.” Stevie offered a look, a simple unimpressed raised brow “Whaaatt, okay fine I looked him up when I saw it all blowing up, call it me doing my sisterly duty. He’s weird, but in a harmless opossum kind a way, y’know? Like he probably scampers or something.”

“What about like… drugs… alcohol… shit I don’t want around Rosie?”

“According to his Wiki page, the whole band an issue with addiction in the early days, toxic music label, it was a huge legal mess, they all went to rehab, cut their old label an they’ve all been clean and sober since. Knowing you, like I do… I really do think you’d like him, and Rosie would love him too, He’s very… I dunno…”

Vickie, Robin’s fiancée, chose that exact moment to shove her face into view of the camera to announce, “He’s like a mix between Billy and Dustin, a suuuper-hot, but a huge nerd, you’d like him, definitely.”

A weird mix of Billy and Dustin. What a wild mental image.

“So you’re both on Dustin’s side then. I should message him?”

“It’s not our place to tell you what to do” Robin shrugged, she couldn’t tell her what to do, but she could offer a helpful suggestion of “maybe ask Rosie, she’s the only reason you’re hesitating and she’s old enough now to at least have an opinion, right?” Stevie looked toward the living room, where the glow of the TV bounced off the walls, Rosie’s laughter echoing from the other room.

“She already knows somethings up, Stevie, kids talk in school” Vickie reminded them “and Eddie’s… pretty famous, Corroded Coffin aren’t exactly unknown, an you’re not exactly unknown online either, someone’s bound to have mentioned it to her by now.” If the kids hadn’t, Dustin probably would eventually just to get her on his side before Stevie could get her on hers.

“Fine. But if this all blows up in my face, i’m revoking both your lunch privileges, for life.”

“What?! N—” Stevie cut their unison attempt to argue off with a well-timed click of the end call button, put her phone face down on the island top so she could ignore the incessant buzzing of them attempting to dial back, and made her way to the living room, where someone just face planted into a lovely pool of mud on the TV. Good ol gameshow night.

“Rosie…?” No time like the present. “Can we talk?”

It wasn’t often that Stevie interrupted gameshow night, usually they’d be watching it together, but Stevie had had other things on her mind, other much more pressing things that people didn’t seem to want to let die.

She was prepared to let them die, let this be a weird story of her ‘youth’ that she’d remember some day in a nursing home, a story nobody would believe but she’d swear blind happened!

A rockstar thought she was hot enough to send the internet into a meltdown one time. It happened, she swore it!

It wouldn’t die though. Not until she either told everyone to drop it, or entertained it.

“Sure, but uhm… if this is about the Eddie Munson thing—” she turned away from the TV to look at her mom “Uncle Dusty warned me about it way in advance, got me just before school started this morning.” Probably saved her from being ambushed about it by the kids at school. “It’s cool! He’s really cool, I mean, he’s super weird, huge nerd but… he seems nice”

Meddling little shit. Stevie took a breath, accepted this information, decided to deal with it later, and just powered through. “And you don’t think it’s unrealistic for everyone to think this is real?”

“It’s definitely real, mom. Uncle Dusty found his private account on your followers list, he’s been following you for aaaaaages,”

“Most people call that stalking.” How did Dustin even find it among the mass of others? Had Eddie been that obvious? Or was Dustin just that good?

“In the old days maybe! It’s almost romantic nowadays. You should message him, before Uncle Dusty does, cause he will. We both know he will.” Dustin had been uncomfortably absent all day since bursting in without warning. Stevie hadn’t even thought of it as a red flag until Rosie mentioned it ought to be. “It’s time, mom. It’s okay.”

“You’re really okay with it? It’s not crazy?”

“Oh, it’s SUPER crazy, but it’s a cool crazy, my mom’s gonna date thee Eddie Munson cause he begged you to, it’s the best kind of nuts, I wonder if he’d teach me how to play guitar…”

Had Eddie Munson actually asked anyone before he opened those DM’s, anyone at all, because he didn’t really consult the band as to what he was going to DO on the band's accounts, they’d have probably told him not to do that.

And they’d have been correct!

Because everyone and their mother, and even some fathers, decided to shoot a shot they never had!

He didn’t just get one DM, no, he got… many. Many. People messaged asking for autographs, merch, people asked for tickets, some offered themselves if Stevie didn’t message, some offered to DRESS UP as Stevie for him, a few went with Eddie’s own plan simply messaging with a plea for just ONE chance for themselves.

For hours. Hours. He scrolled through those messages.

Sure, he could have gotten someone to do it for him, but he’d done everything else on the account by himself, so he’d tackle the DMs too. He’d delete them, one by one, everything that wasn’t relevant to his quest, making sure to view each one, even if they did surprise him in their creativity, because what if she had a private account like he did? What if she actually recognised her popularity and created a tiny incognito safe haven from it all like he did?

She didn’t though.

She didn’t have one.

She didn’t need one.

At least that was what he gathered at the end of the long list of DMs, she didn’t have a private, she just had her main one, and she hadn’t sent him anything from it.

He knew it was a long shot, he could have had all the fame and fortune in the world, it wouldn’t matter if she wasn’t interested in it all and she clearly didn’t seem to be if what Chrissy had said was true. She didn’t do sponsored posts; she wasn’t aiming for fame and fortune. She lived a comfortable life with her kid, and just happened to be popular on the internet.

She didn’t owe him anything, he didn’t deserve an answer, he—

Bzzt-bzzt

He snatched his phone right back up lightning fast, swiped down the notifications bar, and with wide eyes read the first line of the message he’d been sent,

“PLEASE HEAR ME OUT I’M STEVIE’S BROTHER, DUSTIN.”

Eddie wasn’t about to claim Stevie didn’t have a brother. He didn’t know if Stevie had a brother, just that Stevie had a sister because the sister, Robin, had turned up in a video once, bursting in on a live in the early days to accidentally announce to the world that ‘Vickie’ was now single.

It could be a trick, it could be a way in, it could be literally anything, what Eddie knew for sure though, was that it was the closest he’d gotten to potentially speaking to Stevie.

So, he did the only thing he could think of.

He replied, “prove it.”

The reply came through quickly, almost like this mysterious brother was waiting by the phone in hopes Eddie would be there to receive his message. It was a photo of a polaroid. Grainy as it was, it was clearly a younger, frankly stunning Stevie with a barely-there baby bump, reaching back to a guy who was leaning over her with a ridiculously stacked sandwich, she looked happy, she looked lovestruck, she glowed, and for a moment, jealousy struck him as if he were some childish teenager.

This was likely her child’s father, the one who was no longer in the picture for some unknown reason. She’d never disclosed why. He looked happy too though so… there were more questions than answers at that point.

Plus, the Polaroid had a scrawled “Stevie domesticated Satan” on the white part with a little devil face so, many questions, very few answers.

With the image, however, came the caption “I took this when she was pregnant with Rosie, it’s the last photo we have of Billy, Rosie’s dad.”

Rosie… Stevie had a little girl.

Another photo followed, this one of Stevie and a younger boy with curly hair, the kid all dressed up in a brown suit, hair done up to the nines, probably for some kind of party. No pregnancy in sight, they were both beaming at the camera, the kid with an awful lot of metal in his mouth but, adorable. The Polaroid had “Snowball!!!” scribbled on the white part, followed by a message reading “my mom took tons of photos of us for the Snowball dance back when I was in middle school, Stevie helped me do my hair” so the kid was supposed to be this ‘brother’ of hers.

A final photo was sent, this one clearer, obviously taken on a phone of what looked like a grade graduation ceremony, a more recent image of Stevie, with her daughter, and an older version of the kid from the snowball picture. Captioned with the message “only family could get so many family pictures!” 

The next message came through without a photo “we’re not related by birth, she was my babysitter for years before circumstances got her adopted by my mom. I’m oversharing a lot and she’s probably gonna kick my ass for it BUT I think she’d like you if she gave you a chance so I’m building a bridge of communication!”

Oh yeah, this guy had meddling little brother energy for days.

Eddie quickly typed back, “thanks for your vote of confidence, man but she isn’t giving me a chance here, you are, it’s not up to anyone but her.”

Typing—typing—tyyyyyping “she just doesn’t know you, an she’s hesitating cause of Rosie, I could probably get you a meet up though!”

“What like, ambushing her in the wild?”

“It’d work!”

“Sounds like it’d get me slapped by both her, and a restraining order an neither are good for my public image, or my feelings.” He then quickly added, before ‘Dustin’ could argue “Listen dude as much as I appreciate this, an I do, I’m real touched by your approval, it means the world to me, at the end of the day, it’s up to her. You can’t make this decision for her, alright?”

The typing stopped, then started again, and then stopped. Then finally “fine, but can you leave your DMs open for a little longer? She’s got Rosie to consider so she may just need to think about it a bit longer.”

“Deal.” He’d leave them open for one more day, after that he’d just have to accept the loss, accept that she didn’t want him, cause she sure as shit didn’t need him, and move on with his life.

Dustin sent him one last emoji, a little salute, and that was that for the rest of the night. There were a few more pings, opportunists, but nothing from the person who mattered most. He deleted them, switched his phone to silent, and took his disappointed little self to bed.

It wasn’t that late but, he was done for the day.

He was tired.

[rqgnarok]

delicate - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 3,589

warnings: no mentions of specific pronouns for reader, jamie being a lil self deprecating, mentions of his dad, allusions to smut but, like, barely. set in season 2.

summary: jamie hadn’t planned on dating. his reputation’s never been worse. but then he met you.

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Jamie’s nervous.

This shouldn’t even be happening. Dating had been the last thing on his mind after his life fell apart. Leaving Man City, joining and being kicked out of a reality show, and coming back to Richmond with his tail between his legs– it had all been a domino effect; a very bad, terrible, decision after another. 

Jamie hadn’t planned on dating. His reputation’s never been worse. But then he met you. 

He’d gone out to some dive bar with a so-called friend of his– some guy he met during the production of Love Island that loved weed and Jamie’s connections– on a fucking Tuesday, of all days. Jamie was supposed to be in bed because training started at 7 sharp the next morning, and the last thing he needed was to show up late and tired. Instead, he’d been in a back alleyway behind a club downtown, moping and drinking his third fruity drink of the night, sweet and heavy with alcohol. 

It was a stupid idea, but he was lonely. The certified-prick plaque that he usually wore so proudly wasn’t so shiny anymore and his dad had been blowing up his phone about everything he was doing wrong– what he wore, how he combed his hair, who he hung out with, the failures that landed him back at Richmond. 

Jamie had been in need of alcohol and human company and up to that point of the night he was 50% on his way. He was considering finishing his drink and calling it a night when the muffled beat of the music inside the building exploded behind him, becoming so much louder it rattled his teeth.

Someone came out the back door, he realized. You; pretty with your own drink in hand, looking around. Your eyes fell on him and he sat a little straighter on the curb, unsure of what kind of attention he was gonna get.

You blinked. “Oh. Hi. I wasn’t expecting anyone here.”

“Sorry,” he answered automatically. He’d been doing a lot of apologies as of late. “Was a bit stuffy in there, ain’t it? It’s usually alone in here.”

He expected his accent to be a dead giveaway, gearing himself up for a photo or an autograph or a rant about something he’d done to upset you somehow. Instead, you smiled at him and turned towards the ground, shy.

Cute, Jamie had thought. He’d been doomed from the start. 

“Yeah. Don’t know what we were thinking, going out on a Tuesday,” you’d rolled your eyes, referring to the group of friends that had refused to take no for an answer and dragged you clubbing not even halfway through the week. “Like a hangover’s exactly what I need to get through this week.”

“That bad, huh,” Jamie raised his eyebrows in amusement, watching you huff and puff under the streetlight the back of the club offered. He hoped you couldn’t see him very well, his dark jeans and Nikes along with his designer shirt were pretty much footballer prick Jamie Tartt’s trademark, recognizable even to the worst of drunks. But Jamie didn’t want to be recognized, he just wanted to talk to someone. 

“You wouldn’t believe me,” you huffed, sipping your drink and obviously giving him an out. You’d both come out here for some peace and quiet, after all, but Jamie was done with quiet. 

He wanted his friends back. He wanted his efforts to be noticed, for his dad to leave him alone, and to enjoy the company of a pretty stranger at the back of a bar. 

So instead of following your cue, he patted the spot next to him, looking up at you with an attentive expression. “Try me.”

And so you did. You sat next to him and talked until three in the morning. Suddenly the bar was closing and the dark cloud that hung over Jamie’s head for months was momentarily dispersed in your presence. He went home with your number on a napkin and less than four hours to catch up on sleep before he had to go to work, but a happy man.

And, okay, look. Jamie’s popularity is– in the dumps, really. It’s all negativity at this point, and he usually balanced it with good football, but that was back when he took any honest criticism of his person as petty jealousy. Now, with his shattered self-image and after becoming the internet’s laughing stock, he’s been trying his best to keep his head down

since the media and most of England trashes him whenever he dares to take a breath in public. 

At least his mum’s talking to him again, or rather Jamie’s finally picking up when she calls, but things still don’t feel right. He’s playing and getting enough minutes but it’s not a victory if he can’t hug his teammates when he scores a goal. If he comes home to an empty apartment and no messages on his phone, no one to celebrate the night with. 

So, pretty much everyone hates him. Even Keeley’s bordering on forced politeness these days, which says a lot about how badly Jamie’s done it this time, and yet–

And yet. 

“The fuck are you smiling about?” Isaac grunted when he caught sight of Jamie biting back a grin while typing, lacking his usual bruv. Still in the doghouse, apparently. “Won’t kill you to be early for once, ey? Put that fucking thing away.”

Jamie did, not before a quick look at his texts before pressing send.

hey 

its jamie from the bar??

was wondering if u wanted to go out sometime. i really enjoyed spending the other night with u

He spent all training missing his cues, taking fouls from his teammates, and making Ted’s mustache twitch with… not disappointment but something. It made him a little nervous, but any thought about it flew out his head when he got his hands on his phone at the end of the day, your notifications on his lock screen.

Hi, I’d love to!

I really enjoyed being with you too :) 

Is tomorrow night too early?

It wasn’t. But your schedules were nightmares to line up and you spent almost three weeks trying to catch up to each other. You had a work thing, Jamie came back too tired from a game, you had a friend visit, another game was rescheduled… You name it. Anything that could’ve stopped that date from happening happened. 

But neither of you were giving up. While you couldn’t see each other, your text thread grew and grew and grew, never running out of things to talk about. Despite having seen you only once in person, Jamie was pretty sure he knew you better than he’d ever know other girlfriends and boyfriends he’d had. 

When you texted him to get a good night's sleep and when he told you to get home safe, he pretended, only with a little shame, that this was something you did all the time. That when you were on your way to your place he’d be there waiting for you, asleep on the couch because he tried to stay up for you. When you wished him sweet dreams he’d imagine you next to him, tucked close against his side.

He pretended he was yours. All the damn time.  

And this– today– when the planets finally align and a version of his illusions happens to come true, he’s nervous. Can’t help it, no matter how well it’s going. And it is going well, with Jamie in your apartment where you’d set up a nice dinner for both of you, the date you’ve been talking about for almost a month. He would’ve suggested his own place, but it’s filled with football memorabilia and awards he doesn’t want to explain yet. 

He likes how you treat him. You talk to him like he’s a normal bloke you met at a bar and not a celebrity you’re too afraid to even joke around with. 

“Oh, dinner looks ace, love.”

“Yeah? If I accidentally poison you at least it’ll taste good.”

“I’ll die chuffed, at least.”

A snort. “You’re so fucking British.”

“Oh, bug off, please! Thanks! Cheerio!”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Didn’t know you were so religious.”

“What can I say, Jay, you make me feel closer to God.”

“Ha! Haven’t even kissed you, yet.”

“You seem awfully confident.”

“Night’s very young, angelface.”

It’s so easy, being with you. Being himself with you. 

So what if you barely even know each other? He already knows all about your childhood dog and you’ve been made aware of what’s it like to grow up in Manchester. But shit, just because Jamie wants to bare his soul to you maybe it doesn’t mean he should. He could at least wait until you’ve seen each other in person more than twice, and yet.

And yet. 

He’s at your place, looking at your record collection, running his fingers over the spines of the books on your shelves. He just ate the pizza you cooked– vegan, because he did mention sometime in the past weeks that he’s on a strict diet regime and the fact that you remembered makes him wanna cry a little. 

He likes you so much. Doesn’t he owe it to you to be honest?

“I gotta tell you something,” he pipes up, obviously catching you off-guard.

“Alright,” you say slowly, leaving your wine glass on the coffee table and scooting to give him space on the couch, arms wrapped around your legs. “Sure. Shoot.”

Jamie sits, messing with his hair and avoiding your eye. He looks behind you at the picture frame hanging on the wall, a photo of you with your friends on a trip you took to the States last summer. The stories you told about them made him laugh so hard that he’d snorted and spilled his drink everywhere.

“I didn’t know how…” he sighs, figuring there’s no use beating around the bush. “Haven’t been completely honest with you, love. About… what I do. Who I am.”

“Jamie–” you begin, consoling and standing up straighter, reaching to place your hand on his arm. He shakes his head.

“I just– I didn’t know how to tell you,” he rushes out, meeting your eye with a pleading expression. How scared he must look right now he doesn’t know, but your features soften even further into something sympathetic, kind. He doesn’t deserve you. “And– and I know we– we’ve barely gone out, yeah, but I– I like you. Fuck, man, I like you so much, but you deserve to know–”

“Jamie,” you say again, firmer. You duck your head to try and meet his eye, searching for his stare. You’re still smiling. You haven’t stopped smiling at him since you met him. “I know. If this is about you being… famous, I know, okay? About everything.”

The anxiety that’s been clawing at his throat freezes and fades, just a little. “You… do?”

Your smile turns sheepish, a little guilty. “I… kind of recognized you the night we met. It took me a minute, but I knew I’d seen you somewhere. Your voice helped, too. I think I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“Oh,” he says, feeling like an idiot. He still wants to cry a little, but it’s less hysterical now. He manages to feel safe in your apartment, a space that screams you everywhere he turns to look. Your photos and posters on the walls, your chipped mugs in the kitchen, your colorful rug under your coffee table with one leg shorter than the others, held up with books underneath it. 

“I sound like a creep,” you admit, embarrassed yourself. “I’m a fan of the sport, is all. But I figured you wouldn’t like to talk about your life with a stranger, so I didn’t push. I’m sorry.”

Jamie shakes his head, finally reaching for the hand you have on his arm. You haven’t been a stranger since that first night. “Don’t be. I should’ve told you from the start. You deserve better than that.”

“Than… you?” Jamie doesn’t reply. His jaw tightens and your voice turns reproachful. “Jamie–”

“The public hates me,” he cuts you off. He hates to say it but you need to hear it. Even if you think you know what his life’s like right now, you don’t know the depth of the mess he’s in. “You… being seen with me will probably ruin your life. Wasn’t fair of me to ask you out and not tell you what comes with it.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Jamie,” you say, instantly fierce and defensive of him. You’re defending him for some reason, and you don’t know half of the things he’s done. “Not the truth, not a damn thing. You don’t need to put your whole life on display just to get me to… to trust you, or something.”

Tears blur his eyesight, but he refuses to cry in front of you. Not on the first date at least. Or is it the second one? Does your late night at the dive bar even count as a date?

“Love,” he says gently, threading lightly. “I’m serious. Wasn’t bluffing when I said I like you. A lot. And I know it’s only been, like, one date–”

“Two,” you pipe in. Jamie can’t help his amusement. That answers his question, he guesses. 

“Two dates, then,” he continues, rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles with his thumb. Your eyes go back and forth from his face to the touch, mesmerized. “But this could be somethin’, you know? Somethin’ good and I don’t want you comin’ into it blind or whatever. I’m not– I ain’t exactly a good person.”

You don’t even blink. “I don’t believe that.”

You’re stubborn. It’d be endearing if Jamie wasn’t so convinced of his shortcomings. “Love, I’m a twat. I’m mean to everyone I know, even people I like. I don’t tip enough at restaurants. Never been a very good boyfriend either. ‘m not sayin’ it to be mean. ‘s just who I am.”

You cup his face with your free hand and Jamie melts into it. It’s the first caring touch he’s been offered in fuck knows how long. “What if I like who you are? Public suicide and all, what if I want to be with you? What if you make me happy, Jamie?”

Jamie can’t see how he would but he doesn’t you to leave, either. Like, ever. “You make me happy, too. It’s like I know you already you know?. From a past life or somethin’, does that make sense?”

Your shocked silence makes him hesitate, his hands twitching in discomfort. “Is that… cool?”

“Cool,” you say, eyes full of wonder and voice a little emotional, pulling him closer before he can do something stupid like let you go. “Jamie, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I met you.” 

A pleasant surprise washes over him, warm. He says, a little choked. “Cool. That’s– that’s cool.”

You grin, trying not to laugh, and cup the back of his neck to bring his mouth to yours. “Cool.”

There’s little talking after that, and who would’ve known your couch is the perfect make out spot? Jamie’s mouth is pilant and responsive against yours, his hands wandering for any skin he can reach and making tiny sounds at the back of his throat that you swallow greedily, unable to get enough of him. 

He leaves your place that night disheveled and happy, kissing you goodbye at least five times (two of them in the hallway before he finally scurries off) and not without making you promise to watch Richmond’s game this weekend. 

It takes you a little too long to clean up after, even if Jamie did wash the dishes you used during dinner (“what kinda guest would I be if I didn’t help? Ma would have a heart attack!”) because you keep bringing your fingers to your lips, tilted upwards in a dreamy smile. 

You make it work. Both you and Jamie continue with your lives trying to be subtle about this new development and a new routine is created; he comes to your place after most games and training unless he’s too tired. Then you meet him at his house, avoiding taking the same roads in case the paparazzi get a bit too creative. 

It’s a little weird. Definitely new, but you find yourself trying to spend as much time as you can with Jamie. Dates at smaller spots and at weird hours; he even takes you running at 4 am once, to which you responded with never again and I’ll forgive you for doing this to me if we share a shower. Needless to say, the early morning wasn’t a total loss.

But your homes turn out to be the safest places to turn to. He becomes ingrained in your apartment as do the flowers he buys for you and puts in a vase on your kitchen table: red chrysanthemums and white clovers, daffodils and heliotropes, blue salvia. 

You once use his phone to order takeout and he has a website on flowers and their meanings open. When he sees you carefully put some of the flowers in a book for safe-keeping, Jamie's face fills you with a need to keep him safe, too, coped up in your home and away from the world that keeps asking too much of him.

His teammates are warming up to him, albeit slowly. Jamie has reassured you he’s alright, that he knows mending the bridges he’d burned on his way out of Richmond will take longer than he’d like, but he’s hopeful about the way things are turning out. 

You feel bad sometimes for keeping him distracted at such pivotal moments in his life of self-reinvention, but he outright refused when you offered to distance yourself a little so he could spend more time with the friends he very clearly cared much about. He was almost offended about it.

We could wait if you want. Maybe it’s too soon to do this yet. I know it’s a delicate situation Jamie, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything.

I don’t wanna wait, Jamie had answered, stubborn. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, pressing you against the kitchen counter. His eyes wouldn’t leave your face. I want you. 

And he has you. Completely and undeniably; this thing between you, this relationship, however delicate, becomes steadier as time passes. You’re already talking about meeting his mom and taking him back to your hometown for a visit, possibilities Jamie could never have dreamed of when he first met you. 

You’d told him during those first dates how unpredictable relationships could be. And neither of you can deny how your personal situation makes things even harder, but that doesn’t mean you’re not willing to try. 

I can’t make any promises of what’ll happen next. No one knows shit these days, Jamie. But I can be with you. And I can make you a drink, if you want. 

He tells you about his dad, too, eventually. In his effort to be more honest with you, even if you tell him multiple times he’s got nothing to make up for. He tells you anyway, wrapped in your arms on your couch while a movie plays in the background, the only source of light in the room. 

Me dad weren’t… you know. Good, or whatever. He’s always thought ‘m too soft and shit. And when I try not to be I… I’m someone I’m not, y’know? Someone I don’t like.

It puts a lot of things into perspective. About when you first met and how he later tried to push you away, convinced he was a terrible person and you wouldn’t want to be with him if you truly knew him. 

What you do want is to track down his dad and, like, throw a brick at his window or something. But you only embrace Jamie tighter, kiss his hair, and don’t mention how tightly he holds your arms to keep them around his torso. If he cries a little, then that’s between you and God, and you’ll die before you ever make fun of him for it.

You wake up one morning to find Jamie staring at you, eyes lidded and sleepy. 

“Dreamin’ of me, angel?”

Your first action of the day is to snort thanks to your fantastic boyfriend. “You wish, handsome.”

“I do wish,” he grins wolfishly. You see his hand sliding through the sheets, moving smoothly and calculated towards your naked body. 

“If you think I’m up for anything before you get some food in me, you’re gonna be awfully disappointed,” glee shines on Jamie’s face and you push it away with your hand, groaning at his dirty-mindedness. “Food, you shameless bastard, I said food. How do you get anything done with your mind stuck in the gutter all the time?”

“Takes some effort,” he says, pride unhurt and still reaching for you. You relent quickly enough, loving the feeling of his hands on you. “Come on, babe, I’ve gotta be up for trainin’ in an hour. We’ve more than enough time, huh?”

“That depends,” you support your head in your hand, elbow digging into your pillow. “What’s in it for me?”

“C’mere and I’ll show ya,” he promises, an endearing frown on his features. “What’re you doin’ all the way over there, anyway?”

He pulls you towards him with ease and you let yourself be caged in his arms, kiss after kiss after kiss.

________

AHHHH HERE IT IS, HERE IT IS

i hope you like it! i kept ya’ll waiting a little but the response was insane!!! i wanted to give you the best i could write AND i wanted to use this fic to thank you for 1.1k! thank you for making me feel so welcome when venturing back into writing and for trusting me with your favorite characters <3 and prepare yourselves bc im making myself put as many fics out this month as i can!

<3

________

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[snowyquokka]

Hiiii how are you

I have e a request for han or seungmin that their enemies and they have to go to a party that their friends are going to and the reader gets really drunk so they help them and they both confess to liking each other and it's just really fluffy

I hope I explained that the right way

Ps love your work

Lots of love A<3

BUTTERFLIES

frat boy han jisung x fem reader

cw: mature themes MDNI, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption (both above age), swearing, angst EVEN THOUGH IT WAS SUPPOSED TO ONLY BE FLUFF, second chance lovers, college au, blah blah blah

wc: 1.2k

a.n - i apologize for this taking me so long but i really wanted to get it right and do the prompt justice. i absolutely loved writing this and i appreciate the request !! (thank you ina for letting me blow up your dms over this <3)

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

“You are so fucking lucky I love you,” you mutter as you walk into a frat party with your best friend, Mina. She wouldn’t stop pestering you about ‘coming out of your shell’ and ‘loosening up.’

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll thank me later, babe. And don’t worry, I’m the DD tonight. Have fun, seriously.” she smiles. You’d be lying if you said that deep down - very deep, like in the abyss of your soul - you weren’t grateful for her making you leave your room, where she thought you’d live forever if she didn’t have a say.

“Oo, lookie!” Mina exclaims as she points out two guys leaning against the kitchen island. Lee Minho and you’ve gotta be kidding me,

“Mina, no. You’ve got me fifty shades of fucked up if you think I’m gonna go talk to Han,” you make a face at the bitter taste of his name.

“You haven’t even spoken to him in what,” she counts on her fingers, “…8 months?

“Mina, I don’t think getting coffee at the same shop counts as talking.” you roll your eyes, “He’s a complete dickhead who has absolutely no consideration for others,” Mina shrugs and grabs your arm before dragging you over towards the two men despite your protests.

You immediately catch Jisung’s attention, watching as a small smirk tugs on his lips.

“Ah, Mina! How are you?” Minho beams at your best friend.

While they get caught up in their conversation you look around and spot a tray of Jell-O shots sitting on the counter unattended. Shrugging your shoulders, you pick one up and down it with zero hesitation.

Without even registering it, you consume three in less than two minutes. At least you’re enjoying yourself, right?

“I’d be careful if I were you, nabi.” You cringe at the nickname as Jisung’s voice cuts through the music playing in the background. You turn around to face him with a groan.

“I’m not in the mood, Han.” you grab another shot.

“Ouch. Back to last names, are we?” Jisung clutches his chest in mock pain, earning an eye roll from you. You glance over at Mina - or rather, where she was standing five minutes ago.

“Where’d they go?” You nod towards the now empty space.

“Probably going to fuck,” he shrugs, “Who knows?”

You huff and cross your arms over your chest.

“Oh come on, nabi. You can’t avoid me forever.” Your cheeks redden in annoyance.

“I can and I will actually. Also, stop calling me that.”

He scoffs as you walk away with yet another shot in your hand.

After a few moments of hesitation, he reluctantly follows you. “Wait. Can we ta-“

Jisung cuts himself off at the sight of you dancing with some guy from his fraternity, his hands on your hips as you sway them to the beat. Something in Jisung’s chest twists and a pit forms in his stomach. Shaking his head and pushing down his feelings, he turns to walk away.

Not worth it, Ji.

That is until he hears your laugh. Your sweet, gentle, angelic laugh. Sparked by someone who looks like they’d forget your name before he even gets what he wants from you.

Fuck. All. That.

Jisung downs the rest of his beer and stalks towards the two of you.

“Get your fucking hands off my girl.” he glares at the other man.

Jisung ignores him and snatches your wrist and drags you away, careful not to let you fall.

“J - Han get off of me,” you sputter as you attempt to set yourself free as he guides you upstairs to a vacant bedroom.

“I am not yours, asshole.” you wipe your palms down your dress in order to try to make it stretch a little more past your thighs. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung who has to force himself to tear his eyes away from your curves. Curves that he’s dreamt of holding underneath his fingertips for years.

“Why won’t you have one conversation with me? You’re acting like we weren’t inseparable two years ago,” Jisung runs a hand through his already disheveled hair. He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol giving him confidence or if it’s his physical need to be as close as he can to you.

“You left, what did you expect to happen?” you let out once your mind starts to uncloud.

Jisung advances towards you, the beat of the music downstairs matching your racing pulse. With each step he takes, your heart knots tighter and tighter. Once he reaches you he places his hand on the wall beside you, caging you in.

Your senses heighten and the intensity of his gaze forces you to shrink yet you carry on, “You didn’t even care about what I had to say about it. In fact, I didn’t even know you were going until three hours before your flight took off.”

Your words are like a knife to his abdomen.

He searches your eyes for something - anything - other than pain.

Nothing.

The knife twists in his gut.

You don’t realize you’re crying until Jisung’s hand comes up to brush your tears off of your cheeks.

“I’ve hated myself everyday for the past two years, nabi. I thought of coming back to you but..” he trails off.

“Ji, don’t do this to me. I can’t. Please.” your voice shakes more than you would like it to as you try to warrant off more tears. You’ve always been an emotional drunk, but this? This is next level.

“You know, the moment I found out where you were going to college I immediately applied there? And then I applied to every college in the area, just in case I didn’t get accepted,” his voice drops to a mere whisper, “I did it because I wanted to fix us. I want to fix us.”

Your mouth falls slightly agape as you attempt to process the absolute bomb he just threw at you,

“It would’ve been easier if I hadn’t..” you cut off and wipe your mascara-stained cheeks, tilting your head back against the wall and closing your eyes. You’re too afraid to acknowledge the truth.

You’ve always been too afraid.

Though, you aren’t very sure what the truth is, exactly.

Jisung leans in and speaks softly into your ear, “I fell in love, too.”

Your eyes flutter open to see him nose-to-nose with you.

Warmth that has nothing to do with the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed spreads throughout you, head to toe, and something velvety skates along your soul.

“Butterflies,” you mumble unwittingly.

Jisung smiles softly and leans his forehead against yours.

“Can you find somewhere in that big, beautiful heart for me?” he looks down and threads his fingers with yours.

“No need,” you smile, “it was all yours to begin with.”

tags: @godslino @skzstarnet @anakin-sweetheart

divider: @chaeneuu

[whorbidmore]

okay, so, I've fallen victim to the leon kennedy brainrot steadily overtaking me, following me from Tumblr to Pinterest, to Instagram and even the absolutely fucking dreaded application of TikTok. I don't even use it that often??? and the algorithm is just like 'wow, yeah, this little fuckers gay as hell send in the 40 year old meow meow!!' and having watched Death Island fairly recently, I'm gonna have my opinions on what this dude would be like. Cus my brain loves to rationalize shit and think ab 'what if this mf was someone real?' so... fuck it.

Leon Soft Kennedy Headcanons

SFW

accidentally bigoted. - im sorry but let's be so fucking real here. he's a 40 something year old man who spent the majority of his life in either the military, a police training academy in the 90's, or otherwise working under the U.S Federal System with minimal/no time between missions to unpack absolutely everything he's got going on... the guys gonna have some problematic tendencies. Obviously that doesn't mean he means any of that or is incapable of change, etc. etc., but I know for damn certain this dude would laugh a little at Bill Burr's borderline to blatantly misogynistic material and has probably chuckled unironically at the attack helicopter jokes. But, he's not a complete dick, and would definitely become more critical of those kinds of jokes if it's pointed out to him.

honest to God, Dad Without Kids™ - it's not simply enough for me to leave it at 'but it's the vibes!!' so, I'm gonna break this shit down. Leon is absolutely Gen X incarnate. I can fucking guarantee you that on his off days he accidentally ends up dressing as an undercover cop; I'm talking cargo shorts, light blue button up, those fucking standard issue boots cus "they're perfectly good shoes" and those stupid ass sunglasses... you know the ones I'm talking about. Let's say you're living with him, right? And you're... you, and you wanna watch something on TV. This dude would strain himself getting up like a turtle fallen backwards on its shell, stand up, walk right in front of the TV screen and stand there with his hands on his hips. It doesn't matter that he had to piss, he needs to get a better look of what's happening! Does those really loud, obnoxious coughs and sneezes, absolutely blows his back out doing one at least five times a year.

Only watches British Reality TV - Considering he's canonically a film buff, I'll say that this is purely for whatever he gravitates towards on general streaming services. I honestly don't see him being the type to regularly tune in to standard American cable TV, or only does so under specific circumstances like American Ninja Warrior or maybe Forged in Fire if there's absolutely nothing else. It's not something that's exclusive to Americans, — I'm from New Zealand and I do this too, — but Leon absolutely falls into the category of watching British Reality and Game shows purely because of the accents. I'm talking Jeremy Kyle, The Big Fat Quiz of Everything, Taskmaster, The Great British Bake Off and so on and so forth. It doesn't matter that baking isn't his forté or a passion of his, if Josephine curdles her buttercream by over mixing, his hands are in his hair in utter disappointment. 100% tries to mimic their accents too. We all do it, don't lie.

Has... very dated music tastes - I don't know if you could guess, but the last paragraph included me calling myself out and name dropping some shows I watch anyway or grew up watching, and I'm just saying that this is gonna be no different. If anything? This'll be worse! Since I'm very passionate about the music I listen to and have the inability to keep my interests separated from the other, of course my love of particular bands will bleed over into my interpretation of Leon's character! Anyway, all that for me to say that Leon fucking LOVES 90's grunge musicians, specifically Pearl Jam and Soundgarden, as well as early nu metal bands like Korn (their dubstep phase did not happen.), TOOL, and Rage Against the Machine — and no, he unfortunately doesn't see the irony of him being a fed and listening to Rage, — but would also have a soft spot for psych rock, post-punk and shoegaze. My man's definitely laid awake at night, sobbing without expression as he struggles to accept that Ada never really wanted him like he wanted her while listening to fucking Slowdive. My hottest take here is that he doesn't really listen to Deftones. Like he'll occasionally blast My Own Summer, Change, Bored or Rosemary, but anything outside of those? He just didn't listen to 'em. My second hottest take is that he does NOT like Slipknot, which kind of pains me 'cus I do, but I fucking bet you this dude would actually adopt one piece of "Gen Z lingo" or whatever just call them cringe. Though admittedly he would've been jamming the fuck out to Psychosocial and The Devil in I when they came out. Went off the deep end in Vendetta, obviously, and drunk-cried himself to sleep on the couch listening to Linkin Park.

Very confusing spending habits - On one hand, we all understand that Leon came from money, — he was implied to have been born into a mob family from my understanding? And I doubt he'd ever really had to worry about being fully, irrevocably broke, — but I'm sure that growing up in the U.S Foster Care System made him at least a little more cautious of where his money comes from, where it's going, what he's spending it on, etc. So, on the one hand, he's apprehensive to spend recklessly, particularly on perishables. But also, if he can drop over $100,000USD on a motorcycle that got absolutely fucking cheese grated into the road, and spend a perceived, metric fuck ton of money on designer leather jackets and massive watches, it's gonna be hard for me to call him 'financially conscious'. On one hand, he gets apprehensive on spending more money than he needs to on food since he's "just gonna shit it out later", but if he sees a cool watch or a nice suit in a shop window? Money's suddenly not an issue! Not because he's materialistic, but because the one thing he really maintains a sense of control over in his life are his possessions and the way he dresses. The D.S.O can call him in for another months long mission whenever they please, and all he can realistically do is allow the government to tug on his leash and put him where he's needed. He may as well spend their money on things he wants!

Gets out... enough? But also, not really? - So, personally I've pegged Leon as more of an introverted person, — amateurly typed his MBTI as possibly ISFJ? — so he doesn't really feel the need to go out and meet new people or really hang out with anyone. If somebody invites him out? Sure, he'll go. Otherwise, it rarely occurs to him to meet up with friends or colleagues at a cafe or anywhere. I think he'd prefer to just go there alone, mostly for the sake of having somebody else cook for him as opposed to actively seeking out the atmosphere. It's pure convience in his mind. And remember when I said in the beginning about him accidentally being at least a little misogynistic? Yeah, that was me trying to say that he regularly tries to hit on younger waitresses. Not because he actually wants anything to do with them, but simply because it's an ego boost. He likes that he can make girls half his age blush or offer him their numbers, because it tells him that he's still desirable, and ultimately, that gives him the power to reject them politely and go about the rest of his day. If they don't reject him first, of course. Admittedly, Leon's audacity towards women peaked during Infinite Darkness.

Since I'm planning on posting more NSFW headcanons for this guy, — and more NSFW kinds of posts, — here is the obligatory Minors DNI attachment. For your own safety, I don't care if what I have to say is tame so far, you can hold it off I promise.

[sturn-saturn]

suntans and popsicles

pairing: fem!reader x husband!matt

warnings: just fluff :) not proofread

it was mid august. the sun shining and beaming down. a vacation that’s much needed after months of work that exhausted you and matt.

you both decided to book a 5 day trip to aruba with your three year old daughter mara. you’ve been dreaming of coming here since you were 13. the beautiful, blue, caribbean beaches, the delicious food. everything about this island seemed enjoyable.

seeing as this is an island, going to the beach everyday is essential. family time is extremely important to you so this trip is a great way to spend time with the two most important people in your life.

“DADDY, DADDY. BEACH!” mara yells out as she starts running on the sand.

“yes! we are at the beach!” matt says running after her, picking her up and placing her on top of his shoulders.

you set up your beach chairs and umbrella for some shade because the heat here is unbearable sometimes.

“matt, honey! could you bring mara here!” you call out.

your daughter runs into your arms and hugs you. “mommy the water is blue!”

“it’s very blue, isn’t it?”

“mhm!”

“matt. could you pass me the sunscreen?” you ask your husband “okay mara, mommy’s gonna put sunscreen on you so it can protect you from the sun.”

“mommy i thought you say sun was good for you?” she says a little confused.

“the sun is very good for you, but sometimes the sun can hurt you if you don’t protect your skin from the heat.”

“which is why sunscreen is important, sweet girl.” matt adds on.

you start to apply the sunscreen on her arms, legs, back, neck, and some of your face sunscreen on her face and putting her arm floaters and life jacket on.

“there, all done!”

“ALL DONE!” mara repeats.

you and matt finish applying your sunscreen and take mara hand in hand and walk towards the blue caribbean waters.

“oh yeah. this is nice.” matt says. “thanks for suggesting this place baby.”

“yeah thanks baby!” mara giggles.

“no thank you mara.”

“for what mommy?”

“for being the best gift to mommy and daddy.”

matt looks at your daughter then looks at you you and has a wide smile on his face.

“alright who’s ready to swim?” he asks.

“ME. I AM!” mara yells.

as you get a bit deeper into the water, you and matt hold onto mara and let her splash around.

“babe, really, thanks for suggesting aruba, i already love it here.”

“i love it too, matt.” you give him a quick kiss. “so should we get a vacation home here?”

“alright, don’t push it lady. but we can talk about it.”

“okay, we’ll talk.” you smile.

“talk about what mommy?”

“we were talking about how we’re getting you a popsicle after!”

“popsicle! mommy, daddy, can i get purple?”

“honey you want the grape one?” matt asks softly.

“mhm! grandpa loves purple one so i like purple one too!”

“oh, you are definitely your grandpas granddaughter.” matt laughs.

you, matt, and your biggest blessing make your way to a little shop on the beach to get your daughter a sweet treat.

“you’re the best mommy and daddy ever!”

“you’re the best mara ever!” matt picks her up and blows a raspberry on her cheek as she bursts out in a fit of giggles.

[virginsexgod69]

❝Jealous ❞

pairing Professor! Daryl Dixon x F! Student! Reader with a sprinkle of Professor Rick

summary After getting drunk with your friends, you wake up at Professor Dixon's place where you explore something new. Rick lets you despite the jealousy brewing inside him.

cw smut, voyeurism, unprotected p in v, jealousy but also cuckolding lowkey, teacher - student relations, power imbalance, age gap, creampie, blow jobs, mentions of underage drinking (Reader is 20, legal drinking age is 21), outdoor sex

2.7k words

series masterlist

"Ready yet?" Rosita asked. 

"Gimme a sec," you replied. You were sat on the floor of your dorm room, doing your makeup in front of the floor-length mirror. 

"I'm ready," Maggie said as she grabbed her purse. 

Your two best friends, Maggie and Rosita, wanted to go to a bar to celebrate finishing mid terms. You were apprehensive at first, considering you weren't twenty-one quite yet, but they promised you'd still have a good time. 

"Alright, let's go!" 

Maggie came back to the table carrying everyone's drinks- a cosmopolitan for Rosita and a scotch and soda for her. The drink she slid in front of you was pink with cherries in it. 

"Ooh, what's this?" you asked curiously. 

"Shirley Temple," Maggie said, struggling to hold back a laugh. Rosita bursted into a contagious fit of giggles, Maggie joining in, but you stared at them with a flat face. 

"What? S'not my fault you're not twenty-one yet," she told you once the two of them calmed down. 

"Ha. Ha," you said sarcastically before taking a sip of the non-alcoholic beverage. It was delicious, which made you madder. You drank with them all the time outside of bars, but now of all times Maggie wanted to abide by the law? 

"Thank god mid terms are over. We can finally rest," Maggie said, leaning back into her seat. 

"Is it just me, or was Professor Grimes' midterm unnecessarily hard?" Rosita asked. 

"I thought it was fine." 

"Speak of the devil," Maggie said and you all turned to look where she was looking. Over at the counter stood Professor Grimes and Professor Dixon, looking delicious in casual clothing. You shrunk in your seat, willing Rick to not see you. You weren't doing anything wrong, but you didn't want him seeing you at a bar to shatter the good girl image you worked so hard to maintain. Thankfully, when the men got their beers, they sat elsewhere without noticing you. You let out a breath of relief you didn't even know you were holding. 

"I'ma get me a real drink," you tell your friends as you stand up from the table. 

"Told you she'd want a big girl drink," Rosita joked. Maggie laughed but you just rolled your eyes. You sauntered over to the bar and ordered yourself a long island iced tea. Miraculously, your fake ID fooled the bartender, that or she just didn't care. You made sure to keep an eye on Rick’s table, making sure neither of the men saw you. 

“See, the fake ID did work!” You boasted upon returning to the table with your drink. 

“I’m surprised Eugene even made that for you,” Rosita commented. 

“I may have twisted the truth on why I needed it.” The three of you burst into a fit of laughter before going back to chatting about anything and everything. 

“I’m gonna order us a round of shots,” Rosita said after a while. 

After multiple rounds of shots- you lost count- the three of you were rather tipsy. Maggie and Rosita had to hold you up as you were too tipsy to walk straight. Neither of you were in a state to drive, so you had called a ride. 

“Look, it’s Professor Grimes!” You said a little too loudly, obviously pointing at him. Your friends shushed you, covering your mouth with a hand, not wanting the attention of their professor. But it was too late, him and Professor Dixon were on their way over.

“Everything alright, ladies?” He asked. He looked so good in that black t-shirt and jeans and so did Professor Dixon. The cotton fabric could barely restrain his strong arms as they were crossed over his chest. 

“Rick!” You squealed, wiggling yourself free from your friends’ arms and stumbling into his. He caught you and held a strong arm around your waist so you wouldn’t fall. The two women stared at the interaction strangely, but didn’t say anything. 

“C’mon, we gotta get back to the dorms,” Maggie said, holding her hand out toward you. 

“Nooo, wanna go with Rick,” you slurred, burying your face in his chest. Rick sighed. 

“I got her, I’ll make sure she gets to her dorm safe,” he promised. The women gave some pushback, but between Rick’s insistence and your whining, they finally agreed to let you go with him. When they finally got picked up by the ride you called, Rick picked you up bridal style and carried you to his car with Daryl in tow. 

"You fuckin' yer student?" Daryl asked before taking a drag of his cigarette. He and Rick were sat on his porch, having some beer and smoking together. You were inside, asleep on the couch in one of Daryl's t-shirts. You had fallen asleep in the car ride back to the dorms and neither man thought it’d look right to carry your sleeping form back to your room, so instead they took. You back to Daryl’s place. They couldn’t bring you back to Rick’s considering his wife and kid were there. 

"Yeah. S'more than that, though. She's more than just a good fuck," he explained. 

"Have her in one of my classes. She's such a tease." Although Rick laughed, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He didn't like the idea of you going around flirting with his colleagues like you do him. 

"Yeah? How so?" 

"Always wearin' those goddamn low cut tops and leanin' on my desk, or wearin' them tiny skirts with no panties on," he explained. Those little things you did were how you got Rick's attention in the first place. He wondered if he was the only one, or if you did this with all of your professors. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. 

"Never gave into it?" Rick asked, shocked. This time Daryl laughed. 

"Ain' riskin' my job over no damn pussy!" 

“Hey!” You chimed in, offended. The men’s head snapped toward you, just now realizing you were awake. 

“You’re finally awake,” Rick commented. He, surprisingly, didn’t seem too happy to see you. Daryl’s face remained expressionless as he watched the two of you. 

“Where am I? What’s going on?” You asked, now way more sober than before. 

“You fell asleep in the car, so we took you to Daryl’s house. Got you changed into one of his spare shirts and let you sleep on his couch,” Rick explained cooly. You looked at Daryl and he just glanced up at you with a cigarette in his mouth. You were shocked he’d do something so nice for you, considering he didn’t even look your way, despite your advances. 

“Ain't you gonna thank him?” 

“Th-thank you, Dar- Professor Dixon,” you said, flustered. “Welcome,” he replied with a nod of his head. 

“Take a seat,” Rick ordered, patting his lap. You hesitantly sat on his lap, not really wanting to under the curious gaze of Daryl. With one hand, he roughly grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. 

“You wanna tell me what you were doin’ at that bar, drunk?” 

“Uhh…drinking?” His grip tightened, squeezing your cheeks causing your lips to puff out. 

“Underage drinking?” 

“M-my birthday’s in a few months, Rick, it’s no big-“

“If I were still a cop, I’d’ve thrown your ass in jail.” His tone was dark, almost scary even. Your eyes watered, tears threatening to spill over. You’ve never seen him like this before. 

“Rick, why’re you bein’ so m-mean?” You whimpered. Rick understood the hypocrisy of his actions. Punishing you for having eyes for his colleague when he was a married man, using you as an escape from his commitment. It was wrong, but he couldn’t help the anger, the jealousy, he felt knowing he wasn’t the only one. 

“Why don’ you ask Professor Dixon?” He turned your head to face him. Shame washed over you. You didn’t want him seeing you like this, a tearful pathetic mess sitting on the lap of your superior after clinging to him like a drunk mess earlier. 

“Wha’s goin’ on? I’m c-confused?” You asked, finally letting your tears fall. 

Daryl noticed the change in his best friend’s demeanor as soon as he told him about your behavior in his class. Now knowing that you were Rick’s, he’d never betray him like that. No matter how tempted he was by your innocent doe eyes always paying attention to him when he taught, or the way you teased him with the little outfits you wore, or how you’d frequent his office hours, pretending to need help just so you could have one on one time with him. 

“Jus’ told him ‘bout your…interestin’ behavior in my class,” he innocently explained before finishing off his beer. He know how much trouble that’d get you in, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interesting in how it’d play out. 

You turned to face Rick, ready to deny Daryl’s claims and defend yourself, but the stern look he gave you caused the words to die on your tongue. He lifted you off his lap and pushed you toward the other man, causing you to stumble and clumsily fall in into his lap. He caught you, but kept you at a distance, afraid to touch you, because if he did, he doubted he’d be able to stop. 

“If you wan’ him so bad, go on ahead and have him. That’s okay with you, right Daryl?” Rick grabbed another beer from the cooler and uncapped it with his teeth. You looked between the two of them, not even knowing what to think. Daryl, too, was looking at Rick apprehensively. 

“Rick, wha’s goin’ on?” Daryl asked. 

“Well she clearly wants you and I saw that way you’ve been lookin’ at her all night. So go on and have at each other,” he explained nonchalantly. You and Daryl exchanged a confused glance. Of course you wanted this to happen, obviously not in this way. Daryl did too. Having you in his lap in one of his shirts made his pants fit uncomfortably. You wanted to make a move, you really did, but what should've been a beautiful moment was awkward. Neither you nor Daryl knew if this was a test of some sorts to test either person's loyalty to Rick, or if he was really allowing this. 

"It's okay, sweetheart, show Professor Dixon how grateful you are for him helpin' you out." He seemed less angry and held sincerity in his eyes. You relaxed a little, having Rick give you commands was comforting. You slid off Daryl's lap and kneeled in between his legs, looking up at him through your lashes. You undid he belt and unzipped his pants, pulling them down a little after he lifted his hips to let you do so. You glanced over at Rick as you pulled Daryl's hard cock from his boxers. Rick just watched with a blank face and beer bottle in hand. Daryl's warm hand cupped you cheek, earning your full attention. 

"Don' look at Rick, look at me," he commanded softly. Butterflies erupted in your tummy seeing this side of the usually reserved professor. 

"Yes, sir." You licked him from base to tip along the vein on the underside of his cock a few times before taking him all the way into your mouth. He wasn't as girthy as Rick, but he exceeded him in length, making it hard to take all of him in your throat, but that didn't stop you from trying. You gagged when his tip hit the back of your throat, making your eyes water. 

"S'alright, girl, keep goin'," he coaxed. Warmth erupted throughout your body and you became hellbent on pleasuring the gorgeous man before you. You bobbed your head up and down on his dick, earning soft grunts from him here and there, but that wasn't enough, you wanted to have him panting and moaning. You held onto his strong thighs as you took him all the way, this time not gagging. Breathing through your nose, you increased your pace, earning some moans. His hand found the back of your head and held it down as he thrusted up into you, fucking your throat, your nose buried in his brown curls.  His moans were music to your ears and made your pussy clench on nothing. You ground your clit against your heel, getting yourself off a bit as Daryl brought himself closer to his climax with your throat. 

"Cum down her throat, she likes that," Rick chimed in. Daryl's pace increased until he finally flooded your mouth with his release. You swallowed every drop after he pulled out. With his thumb, he put the cum that spilled out of your mouth back in. You gladly accepted, sucking his thumb for good measure. 

"Good girl," he praised. Your cheeks warmed at his praise. You wanted to hear more. You wanted to hear him praise you as he was buried deep in your cunt, pounding into you ready to fill you with his seed. 

"Need you," you begged, staring up at him with pleading eyes. He glanced at his friend as if to ask for permission, but all he did was shrug dismissively, like he didn't even care. He didn't want to push the other man's boundaries, but he felt he owed it to himself for all the times he's pushed you away for fear of losing his job. And he felt himself getting hard again. He stood and pulled you up with him before turning you around. 

"Bend over," he ordered and you did, holding onto the porch's railing. He lifted his t-shirt you wore, revealing the little red thong you had on. He was beating himself up internally for turning you down for so long. He was tempted to just shove his face between your thighs and lick the arousal coating them and taste every bit of you. He yanked the thong down, letting it fall to your ankles. He stroked himself a few timed before lining his cock up with your sopping pussy. You were so wet, he slid inside with ease. His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back. You squeezed him perfectly, your warm, plush walls welcoming him home. His hands gripped your hips almost to the point of leaving a bruise, but it all felt too good. He pulled all the way out before slamming back in earning wanton moan from you. He continued thrusting into you, his composure slipping with each thrust. His hands slid up the shirt feeling your body until he got to your breasts. He groped them as he fucked you. 

"You're fucking me so good, Daryl," you moaned as your felt the coil in your tummy tightening, a signal of your impending orgasm. Your legs shook as you gripped the railing even tighter.  

" 'M close," he grunted, his thrusts losing rhythm as he came close to his second orgasm. Your entire body was on fire, Daryl's hands on you felt new and exciting, every touch of his made your spine tingle. Every ending of your nerves was on fire as you came around his cock, squeezing him for everything he had left. 

"This pussy was made fer ma cock," he grunted. He came undone, painting your walls white with his seed. He continued to fuck you through both his and your orgasm. He pulled his now soft cock out of you, watching his cum slowly leak out of your swollen pussy and drip down your thighs. Daryl put himself back together before sitting back down and helping himself to another beer. After catching your breath, you turned to look at Rick, but be was already looking at you. You expected him to be upset that you were physically unable to resist fucking his colleague, his best friend, but instead his pupils were dilated and there was a prominent bulge in his pants. Watching his best friend fuck you definitely did something to him. 

"You get that outta your system?" he asked. He was still a little snappy, but you were grateful he wasn't as angry as before. 

"Yes, sir," you replied meekly. 

"Good. That should hold you over while I'm punishin' you." 

i have not once set foot in a bar, hopefully that wasnt obvious in my writing lmao. perhaps you noticed this wasn't proofread :p

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[rollinouttahere-writes]

How about strawhats with a reader who didn’t realise they ate a devil fruit, and they and the crew only realise when either they discover their ability or they start to drown when they accidentally fall (or get thrown by an enemy) overboard? (Tried to leave the devil fruit ability either up to you, or have the ask in a way that you didn’t have to create a devil fruit 😅)

I finally found a way to work this old ask into a request! Sorry to whoever sent it in originally, I just could not come up with a plot for it until I got this one. Apologies for there being little to no yandere content here.

You Are What You Eat

Straw Hats x GN!Reader

1.8k words

Loud growls echoed through the forest. Not the deafening roars of a predator about to rip you apart, no, but the rumbling of a deprived stomach demanding sustenance.

You really shouldn’t have taken off into the woods without grabbing a snack first, but you couldn’t help it. After days of being at sea, you were eager to explore the new island you’d stopped at. Robin said you all would need to split up to find the ruins she was looking for, so you took initiative and threw yourself into adventure the second the ship was close enough for you to be able to make the jump.

Thus far, you’d had no luck. You hadn’t even stumbled across an abandoned pathway or ancient tools. It’s hard to believe this island had ever been populated at some point. Maybe this wasn’t the right one?

At this point you weren’t even really looking for ruins, you just wanted something to eat. Unfortunately, this search was having similar results. Nothing. It appears all the fruit trees on this island are still in a flowering stage, and you didn’t know enough about foraging to be taking your chances on root vegetables in the ground. Restaurants were obviously out of the question, much to your chagrin.

There was some rustling in the tree above you. Your head snaps up to assess the situation, only for something to nail you right in the face. Your knees buckle and you fall on your ass, cradling your face after the blow. 

Cracking open an eye, you try to find who just assaulted you, but you were definitely here alone. Looking at the ground, you discover what your assailant really was. A fruit.

Pain is forgotten instantly as you snatch up the strange looking fruit. It’s a light blue color and reminds you of a ball of yarn with the way the skin is textured. You have zero clue as to what kind of fruit it’s supposed to be, but as your stomach growls even louder, you can’t find it in you to care.

Using your shirt to wipe it off to the best of your ability, you take a bite as you get back on your feet. Your face scrunches up instantly. The taste… isn’t great, but it’s not the worst either. If you had to describe it you would say it tastes like an uncooked spaghetti squash. The real problem is the texture. It’s completely stringy on the inside, making you feel like you’re eating a wet clump of yarn.

But… beggars can’t be choosers. You’re starving, and you don’t want to let it go to waste either, so you power through it. As you’re choking down the last bite, a chill runs down your spine, making every nerve light up in a tingling sensation. Then, as quickly as the feeling began, it disappeared.

Weird. Whatever.

“(Y/N)! Where are you?!” Luffy’s voice cut through the thick woods.

Finally! You were starting to wonder how you’d gone so long without running into anyone else. Running towards the sound of his voice, you call back to him, “Over here!”

It’s not long before he comes into view, along with the rest of the crew. Luffy grins and runs to meet you halfway, “Why’d you run off so quick? I wanted to go with you!” He lifts you up into his arms and spins you around gleefully.

“Did you? Sorry, I thought we were all gonna split up,” you scratch at the back of your head and wonder if you misheard.

“We were, but then we found the ruins Robin was looking for straight away, so we’ve just been looking for you this whole time!”

Mortification washes over you immediately and you hang your head in shame, “You’ve got to be kidding me! I ran right past it, didn’t I?”

“You sure did! Pretty dumb, huh? Zoro didn’t even get as lost as you did!” Luffy set you down, smiling the whole time while he mocked you.

“Watch it!” You swatted at him, not that he particularly cared or even reacted to it. 

“Now that you’re done being lost, we really need to get going before it gets any later,” Nami was tapping her foot impatiently, no doubt itching to find the treasure rumored to be hidden there.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry! Let’s go!” You wanted to move on from this blunder as quickly as possible, thank you very much. There were a few chuckles from the group as you marched on ahead, but they mercifully didn’t tease you about it anymore.

“Are you hungry? You ran off before I could hand you your lunch,” Sanji sidled up next to you, offering a sweet smile while extending the masterfully packed bento towards you. The cook shot a dirty look over his shoulder to your captain, “Don’t worry, I made sure that he couldn’t get his hands on it.”

You’re sure you missed a battle of epic proportions over your unclaimed lunch. Happily taking it into your own hands, you waste no time cracking it open and digging in as you walk, “Thank you, Sanji! You’re the best!” He puffed up in pride at your compliment, assuring you that it was no problem.

It wasn’t long into the trek when you all came upon a wide but shallow river. It wasn’t so deep that you would need to swim to cross it, but it would be enough to pose a problem for your devil fruit possessing companions.

This wasn’t a big deal, everyone knew the drill. Those that couldn’t get in the water would pair off with someone who could to carry them across. Robin was perched up on one of Franky’s shoulders, much to Sanji’s heartbreak. Luffy latched onto Zoro and was telling him to hurry up and get going so they could all see the ruins.

That just left Chopper, who hurried over to you with his arms up. You were his preferred method of transportation in situations like this. Stuffing your now empty lunch box into your bag, you scoop up the reindeer and place him on your shoulders.

Without any additional fanfare, everyone starts wading through the water. At its deepest, it comes up to your waist. Trudging through waist deep water does naturally take a bit of effort, but this felt much harder than usual. Exhausting even. Your head was swimming and you didn’t even realize you’d stopped until Chopper spoke up.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” He leaned forward to try and see your face better, but you could hardly even register what he was saying to you, much less respond to it. Your silence must have bothered him, and he started to panic, “Guys wait! (Y/N) isn’t looking too good!”

That was the last thing you heard before collapsing into the rushing river. Logically, you knew you should be freaking out. You were underwater and had dropped Chopper in with you, you know you should be flying into action, but you weren’t. You felt listless. Like a puppet whose strings just got cut. The world around you was rapidly fading to black and you felt powerless to do anything about it.

Just before you could fully pass out, arms lock around your torso and wrench you out of the water. You coughed and gasped for breath. The relief of getting your head above water was palpable, but you still felt weak.

You were carried to the other side and gently sat down against a tree by a very concerned Sanji. His hands were clamped onto your upper arms and his eyes raked over your body looking for literally anything that could explain what just happened, “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

Everyone else was crowding around you, too. Chopper wiggled his way to the front, fur still wet from his unplanned dive. Despite that, though, he was in doctor mode, “Give them some space, we need to figure out what happened!” 

While he was checking your pulse and breathing, you found it in you to speak again, “I’m sorry about that, didn’t mean to drop you. I don’t know what came over me.” 

“Were you already not feeling well? It’s not like you to just collapse like that.”

“I felt just fine until I got in the river. Did anyone else feel weird after getting in the water?” You asked. Maybe there was something in it that makes people sick?

Everyone shrugged off the question, saying that they all felt fine. Chopper wasn’t happy with the lack of any answer for why this happened. Making a quick decision, he stands up and announces that he’s going to take you back to the ship for now.

“No, I’m fine! Give me a minute, and I’ll be good to go, I swear!” You try to plead your case, but no one entertains it.

“You don’t need to force yourself to go on, I’ll help you and Chopper get back to the ship,” Sanji held out his hand to help you to your feet. Reluctantly, you accept the help and wait for him to pull. 

He does, but you don’t move. Your hands are still joined together, but your arm is… oh god.

Several things happen at once. Sanji looks down and sees a bunch of blue strings connecting your now disembodied hand to the rest of your arm. Sanji screams at the sight, Chopper faints, Usopp is just straight up gone, and you feel like you’re about to throw up.

“What is wrong with your arm?!” Nami shrieks, looking about as nauseated as you felt.

“I don’t know!”

“Did you eat a devil fruit recently and not tell us?” Robin was the most outwardly calm, but was still visibly disturbed by the turn of events.

“No? How would that- Wait. Hang on. I might have,” everything suddenly clicks in your mind. The out of place fruit, the weird feeling you had after eating it, the water, and now this. You absolutely ate a devil fruit and didn’t even realize it.

“What do you mean ‘you might have’?” Everyone shouts in unison.

“Well, you see, it’s a funny story. You’re gonna laugh,” the unamused expressions on their faces told you otherwise. You continued, “While I was off on my own, I got really hungry. Then I got hit in the head by a weird fruit, so I decided to eat it.”

“You ate a random weird looking fruit and didn’t think that MAYBE you should mention that to us???” Nami looked like she wanted to throttle you right about now.

“... Yes?”

Nami exploded and started laying into you for your transgression, and you were helpless and just had to take it. Until you felt a weird tugging sensation from your arm. Looking over, you see Luffy experimentally poking his hand through your strings with a look of wonder on his face.

“Luffy, get out of there!” Sanji yells while trying to kick him away. 

This devil fruit thing is going to take some getting used to.

[freakymcnastys]

"like him" - sero hanta x reader

━━ . ˚₊ ꒱ “ I don't know who he is.”

note: this is me going crazy but also not mean by just doing angst again..also blunt shotgunning MAKES ME FERALLL -kat

content: like 3rd year?? idk but still in the dorms at U.A., smoking the mary jane, stoner!sero (YAY), ANGST but fluff!!!, inspired by tyler,the creators new album/song.

“COME HERE, GET CLOSER SWEETHEART.” Sero speaks with half-lidded eyes. A slight nod and hum was heard from you as you watched Sero do what he called ‘shotgunning a blunt’.

“WHAT!” Sero exclaimed in surprise. “You’ve never smoked weed?” It was Friday night, and since hero training had take such a toll on you and Sero, you spent the evening together, cuddled up in Sero's dorm, watching movies and having snacks.

“Uh no? I’ve had edibles from Sato but that’s it.” You shrug as Sero snorts. “Sato makes edibles? Why am I not surprised-“ You weren’t sure how you even got on this topic. The two of you were sitting on the edge of Seros bed together, facing the tv while looking for something to put on. Then, you guys stumbled upon this current conversation. “Well…I got two joints so...do you wanna?”

And that’s how you ended up in the position you were in right now. Sero was sitting toward you, mere centimeters from your face, blunt in hand. You sit crossed completely facing him with your hands on his thighs. “Just uh—breath it in alright?” His voice was soft as he took a hit but instead of blowing it to the side like he usually would, he blew it into your open mouth. About two seconds past before Sero's red eyes looked into yours again.

"That was nice right?" He questioned as you just nodded. Being this close to him and a bit high made you wanna kiss him even more than before. The being high part was kinda fogging up your decisions which is why you started to lean into a kiss before Sero turned to the side of his bed to grab his water bottle. "This cotton mouth is no joke..." Before chugging like half of his bottle.

Although you were slightly dissapointed you knew that you would probably get another chance to kiss him later on. Until then you looked at the blunt in the boy's hand and it hit you. "Hey aren't we gonna get in trouble by Aizawa?"

"Yeah no I'm like 90% percent sure that he grows his own weed." You just look at his face in disbelief. "I mean when you put away the dealers from the streets you gotta make it yourself." He shrugged, turning back to face you. "That actually..makes sense?" You guys just look at each other for a second before breaking into laughter.

After a few minutes, your stomach started to hurt because of the laughter. But, it died down moments later, now you and Sero were just looking into each other's eyes. Something inside you made you just say screw it and lean in to kiss him.

As this thought rushed through your brain, the song “Pumpkin” by Islands started to play softly out of Sero's speaker system. The music set the mood, and the smell of weed just added to that movie-like feeling. As the weed took over your thoughts, you noticed the soft rain falling down the windows, and the warmth radiating off of both of your bodies. Without thinking, you leaned in harder, Sero let his hands wonder to your hair, and a once tame kiss had turned into a make-out sesh.

If it wasn’t for your phone ringing you two could’ve be like that for hours. You pull away to look at your phone to see who was calling you, only to see a picture of you as a kid and your dad as the contact. “Ugh.” You groaned declining the call to hear something you never wanted to hear especially from Sero.

“Is that your dad? You kinda look like him-“ You know he said it in a light hearted tone but you couldn’t shake the way you choose to interpret it. Why would he say that? Part of you was reasoning with the fact he did not have any malice behind that statement but your irrational (high) brain was telling you something else.

“Can I uh—use your bathroom..?” You quickly asked but before Sero answered you just got up and went into the bathroom locking the door quickly. “Sure?”

Looking into the mirror then splashing water onto your face to try and focus yourself and not spiral into a panic attack because that would be embarrassing especially in front of your crush. “Do I look like him?” You whispered under you breath.

“Hey i’m uh leaving—going back to my dorm.” You said as soon as you left the bathroom, gathering your things from the floor. This seemed to sober Sero up quickly as he jumped to his feet to catch you before you left. “Hey hey what’s wrong—why are you crying?”

You hadn’t even realized the tears that slipped through your eyes and down your cheeks. Oh...why am I crying? You truly didn’t think this whole dad thing would affect you this much. But before you could answer Sero bowed his head to your level and looked you into your eyes once again.

“Can I hug you?” Something about that statement made everything you’ve been trying to hide crumble as you felt sobs rip through you. He just took that as a yes as he enveloped you in a hug. It was nice.

-BONUS-

“Damn really? Your dad kinda sucks” Sero shrugged as he listened to your entire backstory. “Yeah tell me about it.” You laughed lightly.

“So how about you?” You asked, drinking a sip of coke that Sero had gotten you earlier. “Oh I don’t got a dad—bless my mom…four kids is crazy!” He laughed as you joined him. You were glad that you and Sero could relate and make jokes about your childhoods.

- love always, kat

[hunter470]

Here’s my imagination having fun.

TM: Let’s break up Buck and Tommy and make it really hurt. It’s gonna be great.

Writers: But, Tim, this doesn’t make sense. We’ve been laying the foundation for a long-term healthy relationship for Buck. You even brought Tommy back because of all the connections he had with the 118. You wanted Buck’s love interest to be connected so they wouldn’t be off on an island. This just feels like it’s coming out of left field.

TM: True, but I keep getting texts from Oliver and he wants “Buck to f**k” and I think that would be fun. I mean, he’s newly bi so he should sleep around with a bunch of people before finding the one. We can have a lot of fun with that. Just think of the possibilities.

Writers: But that goes against all the character development we’ve done for Buck over the last seven seasons. We wanted him off the hamster wheel and to get into a long term relationship. Plus, aren’t you being a bit biphobic with your statement?

TM: Nope, I like Oliver’s idea so let’s do that. Oh, and make Tommy the bad guy and don’t let any of the other characters encourage him to talk to Tommy. We can have fun with that…maybe have Buck baking to get over him or he wants to call Tommy and Eddie steals his phone. Yeah, I like that. Use it.

Writers: Are you sure? We’re gonna get a lot of pushback from the audience. We’ve all seen the overwhelmingly positive response the Buck and Tommy relationship has gotten online.

TM: That may be true, but because the audience is so invested in the relationship, it just makes it more fun when we break them up. Remember, based on our ratings, the audience will watch whatever we put out there. Besides, Tommy’s just a side character so they won’t care. They only care about Buck. Oh, and I wrote a whole scene about Tommy being engaged to Abby. Make sure to work it in. It’s genius.

Writers: Abby? As in the Abby Buck dated? That doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t fit the timeline or the previous episodes’ narrative. So, Abby was engaged to a firefighter from the 118 and then dates another firefighter from the 118 and what, it just slipped her mind? Seems like a bit of a stretch. Also, why didn’t Tommy tell anyone he worked with at the 118 that he was engaged? Wouldn’t that have helped him stay hidden from his team? Kept his secret safe?

TM: It doesn’t matter. Just retcon the timeline or ignore the timeline altogether. It’s not like anyone will notice. The audience doesn’t pay that close attention. Plus, they’ll be too upset over the breakup to care. It’s just such a great idea that I got from the fans who sent me that red string theory video. They’ll love the fact that I used it.

Writers: We’ve seen the video but that was to show how Buck and Tommy are meant to be together and not to cause problems. Won’t that upset people?

TM: I doubt it. They’ll just feel acknowledged that I used it and be grateful. The audience loves everything I do. Remember, these are the viewers who loved a bee-nado and my obvious ripoff on a 1975 airplane disaster movie. They even bought a 66 year old police sergeant and a 10 year old boy landing a heavily damaged plane on an active freeway in LA. So, it’s not like they expect reality in our stories.

One day after episode 6 airs…

ABC Executive: Tim, have you seen the number of saddened and upset viewers commenting on social media about last night’s episode?

TM: It’s amazing, right? I knew people would love it! We’re doing great things over there. You can expect this level of storytelling for the spinoff. You’re gonna love it!

Executive: I’m afraid you didn’t hear me. People are upset and saying they’ll stop watching the show. We’re even getting hundreds of feedback messages on the ABC site. People are not happy. How are you going to fix this?

TM: Don’t worry. People won’t stop watching. They’re all lemmings and love everything I write. Anyway, it will all blow over after the next episode. I threw in some Tommy crumbs that will make viewers think he’s coming back, which they’ll live off of and keep watching. Oh, and if that’s not enough, we have a scene with Buck and Jee baking that is so cute they’ll forget all about being upset over the breakup. Cute kids are the answer to everything.

Executive: 🤦🏻‍♂️

[whiskey-bumblebee]

head... shoulders, knees, and toes

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Warnings: This is smut so be warned <3 MDNI. Oral, M receiving, reader is more sexually experienced than Aaron, established relationship

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: The way I set out to write pure smut and instead fuckin'... George W. Bush shows up? Idk man. Hope it's good

You watch Aaron as he sips his martini. There's something about his casual confidence that makes you want to lock yourself in a room with him and throw away the key. He's not normally into martinis, too dry for him, but the black tie occasion called for something a little more elegant than his typical scotch.

"He's so delicious," You murmur to Penelope. It takes her a second to follow your gaze across the room, landing squarely on a tuxedoed Aaron. There's a quick expression across her face that reads something like 'Oh, of course.'

"You're so perfect for each other," She smiles, touching your arm affectionately. "It's incredible that we can look at him and see two completely different things."

"What do you mean?" You ask bemusedly, finally tearing your gaze from your partner so you can look at Penelope.

"Well, what do you see when you look at him? And I'll tell you what I see afterwards."

"The love of my life," You say quietly. "The man I want to spend the rest of my life with. It's cliché, but he's my rock. The rest of the world can be..." You trail off, gesturing vaguely at the room around you. "Fucked, but it's alright if I'm with him."

"See, when I look a-"

You hold a finger to Penelope's lips, quickly apologizing for cutting her off.

She rolls her eyes playfully. "Proceed with the monologue."

"I'll spare you the monologue," You tease back, letting your voice drop into an even lower volume. "But when I look at him tonight... I want to take his clothes off, and watch as he insists on folding them carefully, and then I just want to do crimes to his body. Crimes up and down."

You look back over at him, shaking your head. "He knows what the suit and the polished shoes do to me. He looks so authoritative."

He's absorbed in conversation, so he doesn't notice that he's the sole object of your attention, which is probably a blessing. If he caught you looking at him like this, you'd never hear the end of it.

"What do you see?" You ask, glancing back at Penelope.

"I see my boss," She chuckles, taking another sip of her long island iced tea. "He looks less stressed than he usually does. He looks nice tonight, but I'll leave the crimes to you."

"Speaking of crimes, do you think he'll get in trouble with Strauss if we leave early?"

Penelope looks at you like you've grown a second head.

"You know he was invited by the President, right?"

You sigh into your hands. "Fuck the President. I want him so bad, Pen."

"Go ask him," She says cheerily, egging you on. "Maybe he'll say yes. But you have to tell me all about it if you do leave early. We're having a bit of a dry spell."

Your brow furrows and you look over at Derek. Fortunately, he's also engrossed in conversation. It looks like he's talking to someone from the CIA. "Is everything okay between you two?"

Penelope nods. "I don't want to be TMI but..."

"No pressure," You reply. "But I won't tell anyone."

"He has a yeast infection," She whispers.

You cringe, quickly moving your hand to your mouth to obscure your reaction. "No judgement. Just... ow."

She nods. "And I don't want to get one, so it's been two weeks since we... you know."

You stand up and excuse yourself. "I'm gonna go ask him if he wants to go home."

Pen shoots a quick wink at you. "Fuck the President, right?"

"Right," You reply, blowing her a kiss as you walk away.

You look fucking hot, and you know it. Aaron knows it. Everyone knows it. There are heads turning as you walk across the room. You wait for your movement to attract Aaron's attention.

Someone with an earpiece approaches him, murmuring something in his ear. Aaron looks confused for a moment, looking over at you with a quirk in his brow. He says something back, quietly, and the man with the earpiece walks away.

"Have you been making undemocratic comments about the leader of the free world again, sweetheart?"

He kisses your cheek sweetly, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Can we talk? Somewhere private?"

"Not yet," He replies, a hint of humour in his voice. "I need to go and explain your comments to the Secret Service."

"Seriously?" You look over your shoulder, and sure enough, the man who'd talked to Aaron was watching you with a steely gaze.

"Did you really say 'fuck the president' in a government building?"

"Yes," You can't suppress a smile. "But I think you'll like the context."

"You know he's technically my boss' boss' boss, right?"

You gesture for him to come closer so you can whisper in his ear.

"I want to take this dress off, get on my knees, and wrap my lips around your-"

He clears his throat, leaning back. "Right. And this resulted in a threat to national security because...?"

"Because I want to get out of here. So," You mouth 'fuck the President'. "Right?"

"He's not even here yet," Aaron chuckles. "Don't you want to meet him?"

"Bush?" You give Aaron a look, and he has to hold back laughter. "I don't want to get you in any more trouble, but you're asking if I want to stick around for a few more hours in the hope that I might be introduced to Bush?"

"Honey," He murmurs, full of mirth. "I don't think it'll be hours. If his bodyguards are here already, he'll probably be here soon."

"Baby," You respond, echoing his tone. "If I don't get to suck your cock in the next five minutes, I am going to become a threat to national security."

He laughs wholeheartedly at that, tucking his face into your shoulder.

"You're going to get us kicked out. It's like making a joke about a B O M B in an airport," He smiles. "And besides, I don't think I want you to... do that. Down there."

You stroke his cheek affectionately, trying not to pout. "We've been together almost 6 months and I haven't. I really want to, but it's okay if you don't want to."

"Why are you so set on it?" He looks genuinely confused, more than offended.

"I get pleasure from it," You reply earnestly. "I like doing it."

"You have a clit in the back of your throat too?" He teases, his voice low enough that nobody else can hear. Fortunately, the music is pretty loud, and nobody seems to be paying attention to the two of you. Except that one secret service agent, apparently.

"When did you see Deepthroat?" You ask, intrigued.

"Irrelevant," He says quickly. "But honey, seriously, do you... Does it turn you on to see me in pain?"

Your brow furrows even more deeply at that. "Pain?"

"You know... With the..." Aaron trails off as someone walks closely past the two of you.

"Canapes?"

"No, thank you," He says with a polite smile, and the waiter steps away, giving you space. "Teeth," He whispers.

Your facial expression turns into one of complete confoundment and horror. "Teeth? Aaron, there shouldn't... It shouldn't hurt, and there definitely shouldn't be teeth," You whisper back.

"But the last time I had one..." He shudders slightly, his nose scrunching.

"Oh, you poor thing," You say, your face softening. "Do you want to try again? I promise I'll stop if it hurts. But I think I can make you feel good."

The look in your eyes is more than convincing, and it only takes a moment of looking at you for Aaron to nod.

You send Pen a quick text: success! text me if POTUS arrives pls

And quickly see her response: YES! go do your crimes ;)

You smile at your phone and tuck it safely back into your purse.

____

You've never been more glad for Aaron's familiarity with government buildings. He walks you over to a more private wing, and leads you to a bathroom with marble countertops, leather armchairs, and most importantly, a lock on the inside of the door.

"What is this place?"

"The executive bathroom. For when dignitaries visit."

He eyes you nervously. "Are you sure?"

You nod, pushing the hem of your dress up, over your knees, so you can kneel without kneeling directly on the fabric.

"Are you sure? Say the word and I'll stop."

He nods. "I'm excited."

He looks around the room, quickly tugging a towel off the (heated) towel rail. He tosses it to the ground, and when you look up at him from your position at his feet, he almost loses it.

You fold the towel under your knees and smile at him gratefully.

"If my phone dings and it's from Penelope, we have to go," You say, passing your phone to him. He nods and places it on the chair behind him.

You reach up to undo his fly, tugging his pants down alongside his briefs. He unbuttons his blazer and the last two buttons of his shirt, holding up the fabric so you have some room to work.

"Can I touch your hair?"

You shake your head. "On any other night, yes, but this style took forever to do."

"That's fair," He breathes.

Wrapping your hand around him, you take a moment to gauge his size. You've fucked before, but this is the first time you've been so close to his cock. You lick a stripe up the underside appreciatively.

"You're thick," You say quietly. "So if I use my teeth, let me know, okay? It'll be hard because you're like this," You use both hands to indicate his girth. "And my mouth is like this," You drop one of your hands, making a circle with your thumb and forefinger. It's an exaggeration, but only slightly.

He nods solemnly.

You slip all of your rings off, letting them clatter to the floor beside you. Starting slowly, you tease his head with kisses and short licks, graduating to longer licks as you stimulate more of his length. Once you've warmed up, you take his head into your mouth, especially careful to sheathe your teeth behind your lips. You press your head towards his pelvis in earnest, taking as much as you can.

Without meaning to, you moan as you sink down. You're taking almost half of him, so you wrap your dominant hand around his base, stroking the part of him that doesn't fit in your mouth yet. For now, you rest your other hand on the side of his thigh affectionately.

You take a deep inhale through your nose and lean even further forward, swallowing as his cock fills your throat. For a moment, you panic, but soon take a deep breath and remind yourself that you're okay. You move your head ever-so-slightly from side to side, willing your throat to open up for him. You want nothing more than to press your nose to his pubic bone, and to see his reaction when you do.

A throaty groan leaves him, and you feel a heavy twitch in your mouth. Keep going, you think. Almost there... With another deep breath through your nose, you close the distance between your lips and his base, overcome with pride when you do. Look at you, fucking champion. You've got this.

You stay there for as long as you can, using your tongue to stimulate him near his base, and swallowing so you can stimulate his head. With both of your hands now free, you use them to gently pry his legs further apart, and he does so with your slight encouragement. One of your hands slips between your legs, and you tease your clit through your underwear, moaning softly, your eyes falling shut with pleasure.

Aaron lets out a string of curse words, and when you open your eyes to look up at him, his eyes are glassy, his mouth ajar as he watches.

"Am I... Do you need me to do anything?"

You indicate a shaking head with your fist, and he nods, understanding what you mean.

You bring that hand to his balls, looking at him for permission. He nods again. You cup his balls softly, feeling the weight of them in your hand. For a moment, you calculate whether you'll be able to do what you're thinking of doing. You extend your tongue and gently bring his balls towards your mouth with your hand, so that the tip of your tongue is pressing against his balls while the rest of his cock remains in your mouth and throat.

He groans deeply. "How... Where...?" He decides against asking, giving into the pleasure instead.

You slowly draw your mouth off his cock, needing to give your jaw a break from being stretched wide open.

"Is there anything you want me to do? Different pace? Depth?"

You press your underwear to the side, running your fingers through your slick. Without meaning to, you buck into your hand, moaning softly from the unexpected stimulation. While Aaron considers his answer, you grip his bare hip with your wet hand, and gently tongue at his balls.

He almost comes just thinking about the fact that the warm, wet spot on his hip is from where you'd been touching yourself. He wants to suck on your fingers.

"You can... fuck, this feels too dirty to say out loud," He laughs to himself. "You can suck on them, if you want."

You hum and quickly oblige, taking them into your mouth, sucking lightly and running your tongue over them.

"What you're doing is perfect, and I love seeing my cock in your throat-" He gasps suddenly as you start to jerk his cock with your hand, making sure his cock and balls are both stimulated.

"Fuck, I'm going to come if you keep doing that."

You continue your movements, not wanting to stop if he is close to his climax, but you want to know that his first real blowjob is everything he imagined it could be, if not more.

You settle for continuing your movements on his cock, but pulling away from his balls for a second.

"Do you want to come, or do you want to try something else?"

He checks your phone. "We have time. Is there something else you had in mind?"

"Some of my other partners have really enjoyed a faster pace, so I thought I'd try that," You say, punctuating your sentence by nuzzling into his thigh.

"Yeah," He breathes. "That sounds good."

You nod and get ready to take his head in your mouth again, when he touches your shoulder softly.

"Wait, just in case I... I can't give you a warning, where do you want me to...?"

"To come?" You smile devilishly up at him. "If we were at home, I'd want it all over my face, my tits," You run your hand over the features as you name them, just to tease him. "But here, either my throat or a towel, so we don't make a mess."

He nods, encouraging you back towards his cock with the hand on your shoulder. "Please suck my cock, honey."

You smile, satisfied with the effect you're having on him, and take his cock back in your hand, making sure there's plenty of spit on the lower part of his cock so that you don't accidentally hurt him.

This time, you focus your attention on flicking your tongue from side to side on the underside of his cock, taking only the first third or so. You're able to refine your technique now that you're not calculating how to take your next breath.

He moans loud and long, and you're vaguely aware of him grabbing a clean hand towel to press into his mouth. When you look up at him, he looks wrecked, almost desperate, white-knuckling a towel as his eyes follow your every move.

You match the pace of your hand to the pace of your mouth, and use your spare hand to cup his balls, teasing the tips of your fingers over them. Determined to make him come hard, you hollow your cheeks and suck hard, creating a strong suction.

His thighs twitch, and his hips jerk forward, pressing his cock further into your mouth. You swallow around his cock, and you hear something that sounds almost like a scream. When you look up at him, the edges of your lips quirk up in a smile. His eyes are squeezed shut and sweat is dripping down his forehead. His face is flushed and his hair is losing its sharp definition as the gel starts to melt.

He drops the towel unceremoniously.

"Fuck," He moans. "Fuck."

He gently eases you off his cock, and you're slightly surprised.

"Did you come?"

"Are you fucking joking?" He chuckles darkly. "Yes, I did, honey."

"I didn't feel it," You say slowly.

He takes your chin in one of his giant hands and tugs slightly. You scramble to your feet as he pulls your face towards his.

He immediately presses his tongue into your mouth, tracing your tongue with his own. It's almost like he's trying to-

With a small pop, he pulls away, a grin tugging at his lips.

"So that's what my come tastes like."

There's a flicker of recognition across your frontal lobe.

"You came so deep down my throat that I didn't even feel it," You say, slightly shocked. "Oh my god. Aaron, that's so hot."

He reaches between your legs, running his fingers between your labia.

"I want to make you feel good," He says. "You've been so good to me."

You pull away slightly. "Check the phone first. Just want to make sure-"

Aaron picks up your cellphone, smiling to himself as he turns the small screen toward you. "I'm guessing POTUS!! POTUS!!, and EAGLE has LANDED are Garcia's codes?"

"Shit," You murmur, bending over quickly to pick up the towels and put them back into place. "Sorry, Aaron. I hope he's still around so you can meet him."

He leans into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth briefly, and whispers, "Fuck the President."

___

You and Aaron take a moment to clean up, making use of the luxury amenities to ensure both of you look put together. You pop a mint into your mouth.

"Normally, I wouldn't mind the taste of your come on my tongue," You tease him, reaching down to cup him through his trousers. "But I think your team might not appreciate it."

In return, he gives your ass a squeeze. "I'm going to fuck you so hard when we get home."

___

When you return to the ballroom, you notice that almost everyone is seated, facing the stage.

"Maybe he's going to give a speech," Aaron whispers to you, shrugging.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hotchner?" An aide comes up to you as you're about to take a seat near the back.

You look at Aaron for guidance, but he just nods at the aide. "Yes?"

"Would you mind taking a seat on this side, near the front? The rest of your team should be seated there."

"Of course," Aaron replies coolly, resting his hand on your lower back so he can lead you to your seats. Sure enough, the whole team is seated in that row. That's nice, you think. They seated us together.

You sit down, reaching for his hand, and he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. He takes your hand in his and rests your intertwined hands on his knee.

"Where were you?" Gideon chides Aaron from somewhere behind you.

"She started projectile vomiting," Aaron replies matter of factly. "She's okay now."

You flash Gideon a brief thumbs up.

"Oh," Gideon says, looking over at you apologetically. "Hope you're feeling better."

You nod warmly. "Thank you. I think there might have been some seafood in one of the canapes."

"Shrimp," Gideon nods. "Never good for me either."

The room fell into a hush as the announcer walked to the lectern.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the recipients of the Presidential Medal of Freedom."

Your eyes widen and you look over at Aaron. He presses his lips together to silence a laugh at your reaction.

"Ruth Johnson Colvin." Applause.

"Norman Francis." Applause.

"Penelope Garcia."

You fight hard to keep your expression neutral, but allow yourself to clap when the rest of the audience does so.

Once you've made eye contact with Garcia and sent your best non-verbal vibes, you elbow Hotch and raise your eyebrow at him. He shakes his head at you, careful to keep the movement subtle. He has no idea either. When you look up at the stage, you see Penelope is just as shocked.

"Elle Greenaway."

There's another polite round of applause, and Elle shoots you a panicked look as she stands up. You nod at her encouragingly, and watch as she straightens, turning her attention to the stage.

"Aaron Hotchner."

You have to clap your hand over your mouth to keep from exclaiming with excitement. Aaron lets go of your other hand, placing it safely in your lap before standing up. A boyish grin comes over his features as he maps his path to the stage. You clap animatedly, grinning widely.

Twelve more names are called, but your attention is undivided. You beam up at Aaron as the national anthem plays and the President enters the room. Laura Bush greets Dick Cheney with a kiss on the cheek, and moves to stand beside her husband. You feel like you're floating, and barely take in the speech until you hear a familiar acronym.

"We have a number of agents from the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI with us tonight. Agents Garcia, Greenaway, Hotchner, Jareau, Morgan, and Reid. You may not know their names or their faces, but they work hard to keep each and every one of you safe, in this great country we call home. Their unit includes some of the best and brightest minds in the country. Although you probably haven't heard of these agents before, you've probably heard of the cases they've solved. Most recently, they tracked down the Illinois sniper, and saved actress Lila Archer's life."

There was a round of applause. Blurbs for the rest of the recipients were read out in turn, and soon enough, they started handing out the medals, with even louder applause for each individual as they posed for photos alongside the President.

You feel yourself glow from the inside out as Aaron's name is called, and you can't help but cheer as the President clasps the medal around his neck. He looks so handsome with the blue ribbon over his tuxedo, and the white and gold medallion hanging just under his bow tie. Gideon taps your shoulder, and as you turn, he passes you a handkerchief. You realize that you must have been crying, and dab lightly at your cheeks.

The rest of the night passes more or less as you expect it to, with the President giving short closing remarks and champagne served at the reception afterwards.

You've been at the reception for maybe five minutes when Aaron makes his way over to you, finally free from the sea of handshakes and introductions.

"Do you want to go home?" He says quietly, his breath warm on your neck.

"No," You lie, your voice higher than normal. "You should celebrate. This is a big deal. You can only ever get one of these." You tap the medal gently, and rest your palm against his lapel.

He raises an eyebrow at you, and clears his throat lightly before leaning back towards your ear.

"Don't make me a liar. I'm going to bend you over the kitchen table in the next hour. And if I can't help myself, we might just have to pull over near Alexandria..."

"Aaron," You breathe.

"Do you want to meet the President?"

You laugh quietly and nod. "Sure."

He takes your hand in his.

"Mr. President, this is my wife."

"Mrs. Hotchner," The President says happily. "I'm so glad you and your husband were able to make it. I was speaking with Gideon just before the ceremony and he said you were nowhere to be found."

You nod politely, trying to find something to say that wasn't:

"Yes, Mr. President, I was on my knees in one of the White House bathrooms. Lovely towels by the way!"

Or,

2. "Yes, Mr. President, unfortunately your world class chefs served bad shrimp so I was barfing my guts out."

The First Lady joins you, standing beside her husband. Fortunately Aaron, ever-smooth, ever-charming, saved the moment.

"She wasn't feeling well, so we went to the first aid room to get some ginger tablets."

"Oh! Congratulations," The First Lady says. "The country will be lucky to have another Hotchner."

Your expression of confusion gives way to a wide smile. Play the part.

"Thank you so much. We'd love to invite you to the baby shower..." You add.

"Oh, we won't be able to make it, we're afraid, but please send along your registry if you have one," She replies. "We're not allowed to attend civilian events unless they're family."

You nod.

"It was a pleasure to meet you both, and thank you so much again for tonight. It's a great honour and a pleasant surprise," Aaron smiles, offering a final handshake before he leads you to the exit.

"They think we're married and pregnant?" You laugh, hitting Aaron's arm playfully. "Oh my God, Aaron! You lied to the President!"

He laughs too, opening your car door. "Technically, he assumed."

Once you're both settled in the car, you pause for a moment, leaning across the centre console to give Aaron a kiss. You pull back for a moment, smiling.

"Presidential Medal of Honour recipient, Aaron Hotchner."

You kiss him again, but he pulls away, smiling too hard to kiss you properly.

"You really had no idea?"

He shakes his head. "No idea. Gideon organized the whole thing. I think he turned down his medal, though."

You run your finger over the deep blue ribbon. "It suits you."

He starts the car and settles his hand on your thigh.

"You might want to call in sick tomorrow," He says, merging onto the highway.

"I'm okay," You smile. "The projectile vomiting was a great cover up, but I feel fine."

He sucks his teeth and looks over at you briefly. "Oh honey, I'm not worried about your imaginary food poisoning. This is your heads up that if I do my job right, you're not going to be able to walk in the morning."

___

And that's the story of the medal framed on your mantelpiece, and the small card beside it, which reads:

Mr. and Mrs. Hotchner,

Congratulations on your firstborn. Wishing you all the best.

Proverbs, 17:6 - "Grandchildren are the crown of the aged, and the glory of children is their fathers."

Best wishes,

George & Laura

And safely tucked away in the back of a drawer somewhere is a baby onesie with a little American flag on the front, and a set of pastel Ralph Lauren washcloths.