#AND THEN YOU WALK OVER AND PAT HIS BUM AND SHAKE YOUR HEAD

[deunmiu-dessie]

sorry, was thinking about doing domestic things with fiancé!ghost, like making cookies and him messing up something in the process 💀--- cause even though ghost is good at most things, this man does not have a cooking bone in his body, maybe he can make a few simple meals but for the most part ( something you taught him btw ), he'll leave the meals and meal prep to you ( besides, he enjoys ur cooking ). so when you pull him to the kitchen and ask him to make cookies with you, he's reluctant but of course he agrees, ( he'd burn the world if you asked ) though, making cookies is a lot harder than he expected😭

"si, the butter--- it's burning."

your fiancé, always standing so tall and imposing, is slightly hunched over the stove wearing your pink apron that you had 'forced' ( wouldn't call it that since he literally bent down so you could put it on him but... ) over his head. despite him being so focused on the task at hand, he'd ended up burning the butter rather than browning it.

"ah fuckin' hell."

he stirs it for one moment more before looking down at you, "y'sure we can't use it?" he mellows at your beaming smile, deflating as you shake your head.

"simon, baby, it's basically tar."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ (rehehehehe how simon looks most days when youre teaching him to bake.)

connected with this post!

[uluvjay]

Just the two of us-L. Norris

Lando Norris x fem! Reader

Lando just won his second Grand Prix and all he has in his mind is getting you back to the hotel..

Warnings,: SMUT, P in v, Unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it!), fingering( F receiving), Cursing, teasing, edging, pretty much porn with a plot!! Prob some errors, I hope you enjoy!

You bounced on your feet next to Adam as you waited for Lando to move towards you two. The metal of the barricade pressing into your stomach as you leaned against it, watching as Lando emerged from his car.

He ran to his team first, hugging everyone that made the win possible before he made it to you and Adam.

He hugged his father close, patting his cheek as they pulled away and moved over to you. Your hands wrapped around his neck as his went around your waist.

“Congrats baby!!” You cheered, not even sure if he could hear you but the slight pat his gloved gave to your bum assured you that he caught some part of your words.

You kissed his helmet as he pulled back, catching your eyes he sent you a small wink as he turned around and began to remove his gear.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes were glued to him as he took his balaclava off, shaking his curls and running a hand through his hair.

The mullet had been doing things for you and you couldn’t wait to get him back to the hotel and into your bed.

You watched the Podium celebration before heading to his drivers room to wait for him, sitting on the small couch scrolling through Twitter liking all the supportive tweets from devoted fans.

Hearing the creek of the door your head shot up, an eyebrow inching up at the sight of your shirtless boyfriend. Trophy and shirt in one hand, while his phone rested in the other.

“Where’d your shirt go?” You laughed, moving to stand on your feet and head towards him.

“Got hot.” He shrugged, his cheeky grin pulling on his lips he sat everything down and pulled you against him.

He tucked his head into your neck, a relaxing sigh of relief coming from him as he finally got a second to be with just you.

“How are you feeling?” You asked softly, knowing he’d had himself worried about not performing well after the summer break.

“Okay, I’m glad I was able to get that win but now I’m exhausted. Can’t wait to get into bed and sleep.” He chuckled lightly.

He pulled back just enough to see your face, his eyes locked on yours as he smiled gently.

“I’m gonna shower and then we can head back?”

“Sounds good to me.” You smiled back, leaning in for what you intended to be a sweet kiss but he made quick work of moving his hand from your waist to the back of your head and pushing his lips harder against yours.

You finally pulled back at the feeling of him trying to push his tongue into your mouth, a giggle escaping you at his whine.

“Go shower big guy, that king sized bed and room service are calling my name.” You patted his chest and stepped back.

“Fineeee.” He groaned playfully, grabbing his change of clothes and heading for the small shower.

-

Opening the door to the hotel room Lando held it for you as you followed in behind him, watching as you beelined straight for the bed and plopped yourself on top.

He did his best to ignore the way the skirt of your dress flipped up showing the curve of your bum and lacy panties.

As much as he wanted nothing more than to roll your dress up and take you right then and there he could hear sleep calling his name.

He coughed as he walked past setting his things down and exchanging his jeans and T shirt for a pair of sweatpants.

“Are you changing darling?” He asked.

“Yeah, can I borrow a shirt?” You asked innocently, now sitting up to face him.

“By borrowing you mean stealing it and me never seeing it again?” He laughed as he picked you one from his suitcase.

“You’ll see it again..it’ll just be In my drawers rather than yours.” You smirked.

Lando handed you the quadrant shirt, watching as you stood on your feet and slipped off the sandals you’d picked for the day before pulling the sun dress over your head, bra quickly following as they both hit the floor.

He gulped at the way your breasts hardened from the cold breeze in the room, goosebumps covering your skin before you quickly pulled the dark shirt over your head.

“You okay?” You smirked when you caught his stare.

“Mhm, yeah.” He coughed turning away from you as he adjusted his pants to hide the now very prominent boner.

You shook your head at his antics, picking up your clothes from the floor and moving to put them in your own suitcase.

“What do you wanna get to eat?” You questioned after finding a comfortable spot on the bed, Lando climbing in right next to you with the tv remote in hand.

“You can order whatever, I’ll eat anything right now.” He laughed.

You could tell he was trying to act normal despite his tense shoulders, his eyes constantly dropping to your bare thighs that were just inches from his.

You nodded in reply, reaching across the bed for the room phone making sure the shirt you sported rose up more than usual letting him get a glimpse of your panties.

You heard the small groan he let out, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you played your games with him.

You returned to your spot next to him after ordering you both some pasta, wine, and dessert.

Lando was now laying against the headboard, his lower abdomen under the heavy duvet, you slid under it as well cuddling into his side as his arm moved to wrap around your shoulder.

“How long did they say?” He asked.

“About 45 minutes.” You replied softly.

He nodded in return his eyes glued to the show he’d picked, you decided to behave for a little allowing the both of you some time to fully relax before you started up again.

You could sense he was tired and needed some time to relax but as you counted down the minutes till the food was set to arrive you couldn’t help yourself as your hand moved from his lap to his stomach.

Truthfully he didn’t even notice your moves at first, not thinking much about your hand moving against his skin. That was until he felt your cold fingers beginning to trace the waistband of his pants.

A sharp gasp echoing from him when he felt your hand finally slip under the elastic of both his pants and boxers, his hand that rested behind you gripping the material of your shirt as pleasure begin to flow through him.

“Fuck.” He whimpered as you pumped him slowly, thumb moving around the swollen head of his cock.

His chest began to heave as he felt his orgasm getting closer and closer with every stroke of your soft hand he felt the world slipping away.

You watched as his head tipped back, soft curls tickling his forehead as beads of sweat began to gather at his hair line.

His sounds picked up, soft whimpers becoming moans as he was on the brink of his orgasm. It wouldn’t take much more to get him to cum and you knew it, flexing your wrist a bit more you had him ready until a knock on the door had you stopping your movements.

“Room service!” A woman called from outside.

“Foods here!” You smirked evilly, withdrawing your hand from his pants Lando let out a pained whimper at the loss of contact.

He stayed glued in his position watching you open the door and grab the cart from the Lady, thanking her politely before pulling it into the room and shutting the door.

He watched as you moved around as if he wasn’t even there, as if you didn’t just have him moaning and gasping on the brink of an orgasm with your hands shoved in his pants.

“Baby?!” He called catching your attention.

“Huh?”

“What the hell was that?” He exclaimed, voice shaky despite his attempted sternness.

“What was what?” You asked dumbly, eyes showing nothing but fake innocence.

He stood up at that, marching to where you stood he’d had enough. He allowed you to play your little game long enough, he was tired when you two got back not really feeling like sex was in the cards but now you had him wide awake and ready.

Reaching you he didn’t hesitate wrapping a strong hand around the base of your throat, the twinkle he saw in your eyes and the way you did your best to hide your smirk had him realizing this was exactly what you wanted.

“I’m not playing this damn game anymore Y/n.” He spat, “get your ass on the bed.”

“What about the foo-“ I don’t give a fuck about the food, on the bed.”

His shoulders relaxed when you quickly obeyed and took off towards the bed, with a sway to your hips and slight pep in your step he knew you were ready.

Stripping from his pants and boxers he made sure you were watching his movements, he made his way back to his side of the bed resuming his earlier position.

“Come here.” He called and you did as he asked.

Moving to his lap you cried out when he pushed your panties to the side, thick fingers running through your folds.

“Look at that, you’re absolutely soaked.” He scoffed, fingers continuing their slow and steady movements.

“That little game of yours get you like this baby? Getting me to the edge and stopping?”

You nodded pathetically at his words, the pleasure of his hands beginning to cloud your brain, hand reaching for his shoulder to steady yourself as your knees got shaky.

“Getting close love?” He smirked up at you, watching the way your chest heaved just like his had, how your hands were balled up just like his, your sounds getting louder by the second.

“Yes! Fuck yes.” You panted, hazy eyes locking with his.

You could feel it, it was right there all it would take was a few more strokes of his talented fingers but right as you felt yourself at the cusp everything went away.

“No, no, no, Lando please.” You begged trying to grab his hand but his reflexes were too quick for you.

He laughed, he actually laughed at you. His chest moving slightly as he put on a faux pout for you, his bottom lip sticking out as he cupped your cheek.

“Sucks doesn’t it baby?” He asked, his eyes now holding the evil look.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you. Will you please make me cum?” You pleaded with the Brit, giving him your best puppy eyes.

“Hmm I don’t know..don’t know if you deserve it.” He spoke, voice dripping with a seductive venom.

“Please baby, I’ll be good I promise. Just want to cum and to make you cum.” You tried, scooting closer to him.

His large hands found a home on your hips gripping them tight, he pulled you down a bit to rub your dripping center over the tip of his angry cock.

Twin gasps escaping both of you at the bone chilling feeling, your nails digging into his skin as his dug into the material of his shirt you still wore.

He guided you until his cock was resting right against your hole, eyes locked on your face as you slid down on him.

Lando swore there was no better sight then the way your mouth dropped open in a silent moan, the air getting knocked from your lungs as you took him all the way, stopping once you reached the base of his cock for a second to adjust to his length and thickness.

“Fuck.” He breathed, hands dropping to cup your plump ass cheeks.

He moved you back and forth slowly, a hot cry leaving you as the mixed pleasure of him hitting so deep and your clip rubbing against his pelvis.

His own head dropped back at the pleasure, feet planting themselves on the bed as he began to thrust up into you.

Your body falling against his completely as you cried out wordless moans, the lingering tension from your missed orgasm adding onto the already powerful pleasure.

Lando could feel his own body quivering at the pleasure, his abs tightening with each thrust, doing his best to hold himself off until you came for him.

“Doing so fucking good baby.” He groaned out, pulling your face out of his neck he locked your lips in a hot kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip dragging another moan from you.

“Shit Lando.” You cried, arms wrapping around his neck as you held eye contact, beginning to rock your hips to match his thrusts.

Hearing your breath hitch with every thrust mixed with the way your cunt hugged his cock he could tell you were close, his lips moving to kiss the spot below your ear.

“I want you to come for me now, can you do that baby?” He cooed in your ear, basking in the whine that left your lips at his words.

“Uh huh” you babbled to him, hips moving faster as you chased your high.

“Good girl.”

Those two words were all it took to finally push you over the edge, your mouth dropping into a silent scream as your body shook against his.

He fucked you through your high, his sharp and steady thrusts never stopping even as your moans of overstimulation picked up.

“Lando! Fuck, I can’t take anymore.” You cried, hands tangling into his curls.

“I’m almost there love, just need you to be a good girl for me.” He panted, his hips begging to stutter as he felt his climax strongly approaching.

“Come for me champ, fill me up.” You spoke in his ear just like he had for you.

He groaned at your words, his grip on you tight as he thrusted a few more times before finally coming to a halt with a deep groan.

His spent body dropped back against the headboard as you laid on his chest, his hand coming to stroke your hair as you both came down from your highs.

After a few moments of silence he finally spoke up, “Well that was some celebration sex for sure.”

You both laughed as you slapped his chest lightly, “shut up.”

It was silent for a little while longer until he tapped your bum twice, “We gotta get you cleaned up.”

You groaned at his words not sure if you were even capable of moving let alone standing on your legs right now.

“I know, I know but we need to eat some food too.” He cooed and you couldn’t argue with that as the scent of the pasta across the room hit your nose.

Shifting to straddle him again you whimpered at the overstimulation, taking a deep breath before you pulled off of him.

A groan falling from Lando as he watched a mixture of your releases land on his softening cock, he placed a sharp swat to your ass when he saw a smirk itching to tug at your lips.

“Keep it up and I’ll fuck yoy even harder in the shower.”

“Promise?”

-

[pseudowho]

Papamin's Big Day

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

When your first baby was 8 weeks old, she was booked in for her routine vaccinations. You were anxious, tense about seeing your tiny baby in pain.

Kento took the event very seriously indeed. He read all of the latest medical guidance on what to expect before, during and after the vaccinations. He stocked the house with two different types of newborn pain relief. He bought your favourite snacks, certain you'd be stressed and upset.

He booked three days off work, to be there on the day, and for the potential 48 hours of fever afterwards. He reassured you, constantly; the gentle, sincere reassurance of man used to far more stressful situations.

"Darling, she'll be absolutely fine," Kento mumbled into the top of your hair, one enormous hand stroking your trembling back, while the other held your tiny daughter, asleep in her car seat, "She'll hardly feel a thing. She won't remember a thing."

The Nurse was friendly, sweet, and experienced. You twisted your hands as she handed you information leaflets, and Kento nodded, calm and impassive, as she told him all the information he already knew. As the Nurse prepared the three injections, Kento turned to you, one great hand squeezing your thigh.

"I'll hold her?" He asked, and you nodded, mouth puckered as Kento kissed your forehead again. He reached two hands into the car seat, your tiny baby looking so dwarfed in his palms as he lifted her out onto his lap, gently undressing her as she scrunched, squeaking, cradled on his thighs. Kento shushed her, lifting her to his chest, nuzzling his nose into her hair. The picture of calm.

"Alright then! All ready, mummy and daddy?" The Nurse chirped, approaching with a sterile tray of vaccinations. You steeled yourself. Kento nodded, brisk.

It was all over in under ten seconds. Three swift needles, two to one thigh, and one to the other. Your baby girl's pain reaction was delayed for a moment, before she shrieked, a confused little cry, a cacophony of appalled tiny wails.

"Oh-- oh baby, my baby, come here," you cried, your face scrunched as you scooped her into your arms, cradling her under your chin, and bopping her around the room with bum-pats and shushes.

A few moments of tiny newborn cries passed...until you heard one heaving, strangled sob behind you. You turned round to Kento.

Kento stood, shaking as he faced the window, one arm wrapped across his chest to hold his elbow, the other hand cupping his face. You heard barely suppressed sniffles, and quiet gruff breaths.

"Kento, are you--...are you crying?"

"No, no, I'm-- I'm fine," Kento wept, sliding tears away with long fingers. Another sob wracked across his broad shoulders, more tears spilling down his face, sobbing again when his daughter wailed another pained cry.

The Nurse looked from Kento, to you, to Kento, silent as the grave. You walked slowly over to Kento, whose tears began to slow, giving his daughter a watery smile when she looked up at him with a quizzical, tearstained face.

Kento scooped her into his arms, drying his tears on her tiny velvet head. You rubbed Kento's arm, squeezing it, trying to stop your heart from bursting, with a little smile.

"Kento, do you...should we...go and get you a sandwich?" Kento sniffled, giving his daughter a kiss, nodding his thanks to the Nurse.

"Yes, uh...yes. I'd like that. Sorry."

"Don't...dont be sorry."

[inkdrinkerworld]

Omg dad Remus with that one trend from tt where the mom ask the dad to babysit their kid 😭 he would be so confused and a little bit amused.

"Can you babysit the kids while I run to the store?" Remus stops dead in his tracks, Charlotte grumbling unhappily in his arms as he turns to you with a frown.

"Daddy the digestive." she whines, Remus kisses her forehead and sets her down. He rifles through the cupboard, getting her two from the sleeve.

"Share with Bekha, and no sticky hands on the sofa." She skips off, yelling for Rebekha.

"Daddy said no sticky fingers on the sofa but we can sneak, Bekha." You chuckle and so does Remus, already resigning himself to the fact that he's going to need the spot remover tonight.

Remus turns to you, closing the distance between you both with his hands on your hips. "One more time, dove?" His voice is full of amusement, eyes bright with something that you can't place.

You flush a little under his gaze, you know this is Remus' best, 'say that again' face, but you've been immune to it since forever. Well mostly forever.

"I have to go to the store, to get a couple bits for dinner," Remus nods. "Can you babysit the kids while I go or do you need me to take them."

"No I can't babysit them," he says the word like it's acrid and sour in his mouth. "I will stay with them, keep them entertained."

You nod, ready to kiss him and be off. Remus doesn't let you get away that easily. "Why would you ask if I'd babysit them? They're my kids too." Remus isn't upset, he just doesn't understand. He never minds one on one time with the girls, he doesn't think he'll ever mind it.

You bite your lip, wondering how long you can drag this out. In the end, you decide to rid Remus of his confusion. "It's a thing online, where you ask dads if they'll babysit their kids to see their response."

He shakes his head, fully amused now. His lips curl into a little smile, "And do they agree or do they say what I said?"

You rub your hands over his shoulders and down his back. "You're one of a kind, Lupin. Most of them just agree." you shrug like it's no big deal, but Remus finds it a very big deal.

"Well, you'll never have to worry about me wanting to look after the girls alone. Now go before they figure out you're leaving." he gives you a kiss and a pat to your bum before you walk out the door, planning to tidy up a bit while the girls are occupied with the tv.

[calebrity]

good cop, bad cop

► ghost x female reader x soap

cw. smut, 2x1, dubious consent, oral, piv, angst, mc is traumatized; policemen! boys are there to ‘save’ her, a fair amount of infighting, obsessive/possessive behaviors, hinted stalking, hints and allusions of foul play, corruption, freeze response, soap is unhinged; ghost is the more ‘moral’ of the two but just as bad, p with plot, 18+ content

an. about 10k words of a fic i procrastinated on since Christmas :] anyways u can read this on ao3 if u want & reblogs/love is so so appreciated <33

The tires crunch over a gravel driveway.

There’s always the familiar face or ten in their line of work, but hers is a pretty one they find themselves wishing to both avoid and see more often.

It’s the neighbors who’ve called this time.

To be fair, the ringer usually varies between the grandmother next door or the guy and his daughter, but the little lady herself stays quiet. People care for her though, whether she’s aware of that yet or not.

Even the cats (bold: curling up to Johnny’s calf and sniffing his boot laces, Simon unable to shake them from underfoot) seem to hold some special affinity for her- because they walk the boys right up to her porch steps and purr. Must be their way of repaying her for all the cans of tuna she leaves out for them in the evenings.

It’s not the first time deputies have been dragged out this far down rural roads on behalf of the scared little thing next door, and Johnny has this nasty stirring in his gut that tells him it won’t be the last.

Domestic cases always struck a certain chord in Simon. Familiar but bitter. All that made it worser was the fact that it was near impossible to put it onto paper so long as the abuser in question walked the thin line of just plain shitty and bad-tempered and- yeah, okay, that guy definitely hits his girlfriend. It’s a liminal space that vermin like her boyfriend get to tread freely in; legally-speaking, they’ve broken no law until legally-speaking, the girl is dead. Found dumped in some ditch or crammed in the closet in a heap of bloody blankets.

And fuck if that doesn’t sound just awful.

Ghost has seen too much for one man alone, but his stomach twists at the idea all the same. He’s become a little fond of her. He hasn’t made any real attempt to deny that, and Johnny can only poke him for it until he’s accused of the same.

That bastard is a free man, as it stands, but Simon’s heard the yelling, you know. Caught the tail-ends of some verbally-scathing fight. His barbed words that leave her with unshed tears and near unresponsive when Johnny performs a wellness check while Simon pats down the fucker. Pulls him aside to tell him very politely to find some shitty motel for the night or someplace else to bum at.

That- those not so subtle warnings both men generously give to the douchebag- are not exactly permissible by the law they so rigidly uphold. But Ghost can’t really help the hostility that burns in his gut when he catches those glossy doe eyes quickly darting away from his as if he’d strike her in the face if she dared hold eye contact- and a few heavy touches during protocol pat-downs never fail to make the wanker obedient. Wards him off for a night or two.

Fuckin’ coward.

Johnny’s heard the dishes break before. They’ve never seen the bruises, though. Hard, physical evidence to tuck into a yellow file for an eternity in the metal bin. And she’s too frightened to offer him up and admit his crimes. Too scared to fess up to ‘em.

(As if being on the receiving end of his drunken fist makes you a fucking accomplice—

Oh, hardly, love. Hardly. Simon’s tried to tell you so with as much of a stoic face he can manage in brief chats before either hauling Romeo off to a 24hour holding cell or flipping the bird in the direction of the local inn. But you’ve got your head in the sand. Your heart in your mouth and your words on autopilot.)

N-No, sir, I’m fine, really. I swear. He just— We’re fine.

Trained dog.

Loyal mutt.

A good girl. Too good, maybe, for her own good.

It’s frustrating, a bit. But Simon understands, he does. Soap can’t fault her for that, either. She’s scared. It’s a traumatic response if they’ve ever seen one.

When they unload from the patrol car, Johnny tips his cap to a curious, familiar onlooker and she gives him a knowing frown. The caller, probably. She’d have to be interviewed or asked a few questions at minimum (the rudimentary stuff, like, so what’s going on tonight, why’d you call us out here?)

—But all that for later.

All that for after they ascertain she’s okay.

The absence of her boyfriend’s rusted pick-up in the gravel road is noted with a corrugated brow and an un-stuffing of Simon's hands from his pockets. The Scotsman nearly trips over one of the plastic geese stood in the lawn because he’s too busy reading his surroundings.

Bastard could’ve taken her… Maybe it finally reached the boiling point. The POS heard the familiar dial of nine one one and booked town with the poor thing in tow. Finally blew both their brains out like he’d been wanting- relayed by a very concerned Mrs. Smith from across the street with a shake of her cane.

She’d said she’d heard awful things come from the trailer home. That that young man needs Jesus. And the girl a real man to love her.

We’ll see about it, ma’am, Johnny’d said with a warm smile, the more socially gifted of the two, about gettin’ that bloke an audience with the big man upstairs.

(As for the latter part-… Well. He’ll keep it professional.)

Simon’s heart is knocking in his chest by the time he knocks on her frail door; it could blow down with a puff of cigarette smoke. It has before. It’s on its last leg, now. Has been for two months. That fucker needs to be put in a psychiatric ward if not a dungeon. If not a headlock where Simon's arm is so tight his ugly mug pops off and fucking rolls.

Any man who hits on their woman or the fairer sex warrants a response like that. Quick and efficient. Violent, very.

Johnny throws a nervous glance around the sordid trailer park and briefly contemplates scribbling down possible witness accounts- that neighbor is still on standby, after all- but the curtains rattle timidly at the window and he quickly forgets the thought.

Johnny’s antsy. Very antsy. Tonight feels different, somehow, the situation more urgent like it’s climbed steadily to its zenith. The air is balmy; early summer carries a fading warmth in its evening winds, and the salty reminder of the sweat beading on Soap’s forehead. Slicking his palms.

Many thoughts cycle through his head in that segment of time where he and Ghost crowd her tiny concrete steps, waiting for a sign of life opposite the door. Anything at all before one of them kicks it down.

They’d have reason to.

Seconds feel like hours. To hell with it— Johnny’s always been well-versed with the art of exaggeration— it feels like they wait there for decades, his heels clipping a restless tune against the cold grey, Simon’s shadowy hues fluttering with an uncommon anxiousness.

“Takin’ her time, ain’t she?”

“No tellin’ what happened, Ghost.”

“Could’ve ran with her... Taken off.”

Fuck. Yeah. That’s the shared fear, huh? Johnny begins to broil the more he’s left to his own inner dialogue. Not just because of the heat.

The brunet adjusts the shiny gold badge pinned to his muscled chest even though it’s perfectly in place, and forces a dry, harsh laugh. It lacks humor.

“That thing’s a skip on wheels… cannae have made it too far, aye? Who knows, perhaps we can intercept ‘em…”

Already assuming the worst has already happened: a learned habit integral to them both.

Ghost gives a grunt, and thus concludes their chat.

Fuck. He should’ve killed that bastard while he had the chance. To hell with not having enough proof of wrongdoing, he’ll do it now! If that bastard musters up enough stupidity to pull back up the bend, Johnny will shove a pistol to his fuckin’ head and turn off the bodycam—

He swears to that big man upstairs—

When the door finally, slowly opens, she’s hiding behind it with a shiner.

✦✦✦

Gloved hands certainly don’t deliver a cushiony touch when they help the thief into the backseat of the cruiser, but considering his brutish personality, Ghost is almost gentle.

Almost.

The suspect (although, the guy was quite literally caught with his hand in the tip jar; there’s very little speculation to be had on just what happened) isn’t their guy— their guy being the doped up asshole that split town and has yet to return to the shitty trailer park— unfortunately. But Simon, quite unexpectedly, wishes it was.

It’s fine, you know, unresolved leads and targets. It’s too common in their line of work to actually hold any real ire against. If they did, cortisol levels would be at an all-time high.

At least,… it’s usually fine. The occasional thug or do-badder will weasel out from law’s tight fist and ditch town, and then Ghost and Soap will have one less useless piece of shit to worry about until they do decide to come back.

The boys mostly take it like water off their backs. Easily. Sometimes frustrating, but what can you do?

They have a town- a familiar web of individual livelihoods- to keep safe right here, and what they won’t do is jeopardize that by embarking on some long, drawn-out journey when results aren’t even promised. For some asshole, no less, that’ll probably end up OD-ing or stabbed in some back alley by another one of his kind.

It’s cruel, but they chose that life. It’s only right they die in it. Simon thinks as much, at least. He made it out of the shithole while he still could, and he has zero regrets turning his back on his past. There’s always a choice. Always.

But this guy- the doll’s ever the romantic boyfriend—

Ghost tightens his palm unwittingly. The petty thief he’s tucking into the car winces and Ghost grunts in response, withdrawing his arm without much concern- but it does help him to refocus.

The job. Yes, that’s right. He’s on duty. Shouldn’t be thinking of her. Well, more than it’s required of him, anyway, extending from the bounds of what’s professional for a veritable enforcer of the law.

The door shuts with a clink and then Simon makes it all of five steps, wrapping around Price’s black and white-painted car, before the big guy himself stops him.

What he’s met with is a somewhat dissatisfied glare. (Not hostile by any means, no, the geezer has his cranky streak, sure, but he’s always been more lenient with him and Johnny... But dissatisfied.)

Capt’s eyes, a kind brown, wrinkle in preparation to scold him.

“Gettin’ a bit ahead of ourselves, are we?”

“Wot?”

Tan, leather-covered fingers move to adjust the cap on his head, “Held our guy a li’l snug back there, didn’t you?” And then suddenly, that singular trace of warmth in his eyes peters out into a steady, sort of paternal exasperation. “I’ve said it before, Simon. Getting rough with them will land yourself into a world of shite- last time, I was barely able to cover for your arse. D’you think Shepherd would look the other way again?”

Ghost sniffs. Blinks slowly— feels a prickling in his chest that time has made almost foreign- a prickling called shame- and kicks dirt over it. He glances from the positively pissed brunette to the cab behind him, spotting a hunched silhouette in the back of it, before looking back to Price.

“Don’t think he’d be particularly pleased.”

That earns him a curt clap on the shoulder and blunt fingers that actually manage to rattle him- but just slightly. Considering he’s creeping up on forty years old, John has done a laudable job at warding off a full-fledged dad bod (although, with his new baby boy on the way, it’s a nearer thing), but the dad strength is absolutely there. Oh, a hundred percent.

“No, he wouldn’t,” he says with a smile too tight to be fully genuine. Too curved. Simon’s observed it from a distance, and usually it only means trouble for whoever’s on the receiving end of it, but while his superior is in fact bristled over his minor transgression, it’s more an outburst of stress than anything else. Simon won’t lose his head for it.

Ghost’s acquiescence must dredge some sympathy from Price though, because he lets out a deep sigh and softens his grip on the blade of his shoulder.

“That case with the doll’s toying with you, innit?” The call-out is sudden, not foreseen.

“You’ve been reviewing the paperwork all week. Look, lad, you n’ Soap are my best men. If I get a call, I’m sending you two out first. If your head’s been screwed with- I need you to screw it back on,” His voice is calmer now, more genuine, too. It carries an affable, yet no less firm tone; the menthol whispers of cigarette smoke. Simon can hardly believe he made it a sentence without fishing one out from his pocket and lighting it, but right now isn’t the time to congratulate the old man on making it a day without falling back on his favorite vice. He used to say he’d eventually quit, but now he’s dropped the pretense entirely. He never will.

Captain’s words hit, though, in a way that’s a bit unanticipated from the blond- but he supposes it’s only natural that if he’d ever be read accurately, it’d be by his senior.

He pats Ghost on the shoulder one final time, “Don’t be chasing after shadows, alright?” If that muppet wants to run? You bloody let him. ‘Member: even if we don’t get to him right away, something else will.”

Chasing after shadows? Ah, that’s one way to put it. Actually, Ghost isn’t even so sure anymore if he wants to find the girlfriend-beating bastard: Price just got done lecturing him over poor conduct (not for the first time), but Simon knows that once he gets his hands on that slimy son of a bitch, there will be a whole lot more to mark him up for- poor conduct the least concern.

Maybe it’s for the better. Letting it go.

“Yes, sir.”

Simon delivers him a stiff nod, and then they part ways: the older one stepping for his car (if Simon cared more, he’d say a small prayer for the poor asshole in the backseat, in for a bad time if he tries to spark conversation with the grumpy driver), Ghost heading for his own vehicle with his cohort waiting inside.

The Scotsman is probably stewing in his own impatience, high as his energy levels are. Simon’s almost surprised he doesn’t approach the car and see his nose pressed to the fogged window, but—

“And Simon,” a gravelly voice calls.

He turns around.

“Relay that to Soap for me, would you?”

—Maybe it’s more than inherent, overabundant stamina that’s got his partner in cleaning up crime so wired.

…Maybe that whole case with the doll- the big blowout with her quote on quote boyfriend and his leaving after striking her in the pretty face-

Maybe it’s screwin’ with Johnny’s head, too.

✦✦✦

There came a time, after all his unfulfilled promises, vows to bettering himself- your relationship- that hope became the equivalent of stupidity. Naivety.

It’s only been two weeks since he slammed the door on your face and booked town, but you’re still reeling a little. The impact of it shook the home. Shook you. Over the course of a handful of days, you experience a strange dichotomy of tiredness and short bursts of energy that convince you you’re happy— for an hour or three, until the absence of him sinks in all over again. He left. He left you. And you’re glad for it. You’re safe for it. You’re destroyed.

How could he- How could he fucking leave you? After he made you this way?

Breathe.

The reminder comes in a bitten voice. Claws its way from the kinder recess of your brain, whatever is left of it.

Breathe.

That’s right. There’s still life left in the tank for you.

You peel the covers off you and slink to the bathroom. A girl peers back from a dirty mirror. Familiar but not. It’s a small effort to mask your shock that stares from your reflection- because for a moment, you’re stunned at just how tired you appear. You look unhealthy. Sad. Like… damaged goods.

And you miss him. You really, really think you do.

You’re much better off without him- that’s obvious. That’s never been the question, whether your general wellness would be vastly improved as soon as he sunk back into whatever hole he crept from. No, what you constantly found yourself questioning was whether or not you’d be able to recover after the whirlwind that is your boyfriend finally swept through. Would anybody else love you, was what your internal dialogue begged to know. Could anybody else love you?

What does that word mean, anyway? The girl in the mirror offers a weak chuckle. And then she releases her white knuckles from the marble counter- and she tears up the more she keeps her eyes steady on the bruised right one.

It’s a new low, even for him. His fist was too heavy, too fast, hurtling at you at a speed that left you with no time to react.

It’s a quiet affair, when you begin to cry.

Salty, bitter. Furious girl.

Truthfully, you were never quite allowed to be angry- or express any sort of emotion for that matter- so long as he shared the now empty slot of the bed beside you, but now that he’s disappeared, that wrath hugs you like a weighted blanket.

You hate him. You love him. You—

You wrap yourself in that heat. Sleep in it.

You wish you made good on all your countless, brittle promises to leave him before he up and decided to beat you to the punch- and in more ways than one. In this stupid trailer home, the lack of your (ex? does this equate to his dumping you?) boyfriend shuffling around chips away at you; the air feels stale, like there’s too much of it for you alone. Simultaneously, you can’t get in enough of it.

The world is closing in on you. Your chest hurts. Your veins heat with rage and brokenness, your pulse begins to jump sporadically and then you begin to hyperventilate every couple hours or so. Saying under your shivering breath, come back home. I’m sorry. I’ll be good- (and then, trying to recall ever not strictly minding your p’s and q’s around him-)

I’ll be better.

Ah, you’ve heard that one before.

It’s weird to hear it played back to you in your own voice, though, because it’s usually not you trying to butter him up and convince him to stay, but the other way around. You suppose the tables have sort of turned now, but still… You… You’d never hit him- not like he did you. Just the thought of it spears between your ribs and twists in like a corkscrew.

A feeling of disgust settles in its wake.

Oh, he’s left you so, so screwed, and yet the chief concern that possesses you all night is this:

Wherever your baby is, does he miss you, too?

✦✦✦

You think about leaving. Starting anew, somewhere.

Part of you has half the brain to want to plan it out, lay out a big meticulous blueprint for your life- carefully mark dots on a map and connect them with a newfound resolve. You’re young still (even if it feels you’ve seen it all, like he’s aged you). Hardly twenty two. When you were a little girl, you’d somehow come to the simple conclusion that all humans lived until the exact age of one hundred; if that’s true, you’ve got just shy of eighty years left in the tank.

You could make it.

The other piece of you doesn’t care for the destination- so long as it’s away.

In the corner of the yard, towards the side of your little home, sits a trashy RV your boyfriend bought as a scrap to remodel later. He never did. You guess he never will. Sometimes you curl up by the window and stare at it, dream of painting the rusted lines a girlish pink or refurbishing the weathered seats with neon leather.

You would be crazy and in love with life, traveling all over the country without giving so much as a rat’s ass about anything or- or him.

Your family hardly has the room in their heart for you. You’re no prodigal daughter, just a welcome absence in a bitter, hollow home. Between scars that don’t ever quite heal (because time is not an apology, as much as you may ache for it to in their stead) and a basal fear that you’ll step through the front door and turn twelve all over again, there’s no real want inside of you to go back to that place ever again. Maybe it’s why it was so easy for you to leave, to fall headlong into the pretty lies of a pretty, albeit temperamental man and decide to let him close the door of his pick-up behind you.

So… where do you go?

You don’t know.

You don’t know.

Your piece’a crap boyfriend left and took his piece’a crap truck with him. Doubt it’ll even carry him fifteen miles before it pops its tire and swerves him into oncoming traffic or a post on a street he swears wasn’t there when he blinked. There’s always the option of an uber or asking the kind old lady next door to use hers for a quick grocery trip, but without a means of transportation, you’re more or less stuck here.

You swallow a thick lump in your throat, dust your red knees off when you stand, and will yourself to pretend you don’t care about any of it. Any of it at all.

Bare feet swish over the crumb-ridden kitchen vinyl and you make a mental note to sweep it later. It’d be good to properly clean this place up, especially now that the number one mess-maker is gone (tossing his empty cans everywhere, leaving cigar butts by the kitchen sink and his thin flannel button-ups on the arm of the couch).

If you’re really trapped here, you might as well—

A knock draws you from your muddled thoughts. Just like that, the haze thins out; when you peek through the curtains and spy a familiar deputy, hands tucked under his armpits as he idly sways on your porch stoop, a clarity washes over you.

…Oh, right. Other people exist. It’s not just you in this world.

He’s whistling something. You hear it as he waits, trading energy between the balls of his feet, patience leaving in subsequent ticks on his face.

…But you’re a mess right now, no makeup, no bottoms, just a long shirt and panties, and one of your braids have unraveled in the short span you’ve spent just twirling and trudging from quiet threshold to threshold—

Another rap at the wood, piercing blue eyes catching yours as the curtains flutter shut with a surprised gasp- and you know you’ve no choice but to answer. He’s seen you. You can’t pretend he didn’t. That… would be awkward.

It’s… fine. You can just hide behind the door when you answer, like last time.

He’s a cop, anyway. You’re sure he’s seen it all.

Whatever happened with you, and your case?

It’s the usual.

✦✦✦

He’s here again.

Well, they both are. But sometimes they feel synonymous to each other- because they’re both endlessly gracious to you (in their own ways; Johnny is more open with his kindness, Simon more subtle) and have lent a hand more times than you can count. They both wear the same uniform, in any case, cloaked in the signature, police-issued garb and a thick belt to keep their gun and cuffs (and hands, when they don’t know where else to put them).

That’s mostly Johnny, though. In the past few months, you’ve learned a few things about him over impromptu housecalls and rides to the local market (because you’re literally stuck here otherwise, until you find a way to get your shit together), tucked in his passenger seat with your knees in your arms.

First of all, he’s a good guy. Not like some of the sleazy cops you see on television who abuse their impunity and talk from their ass every time they wave someone over with their hand. Johnny’s got a fairly big head, you’ll give that much, but his ego is all pretty harmless. Makes you think there must be someone back at the station holding a tight ship, because otherwise he’d have cut free from his leash a long time ago. He’s a big dog. You can tell he likes to bite, yes, but only the bad guys- which is actually a comforting thought.

He’s good to you, to the elderly woman next door and her little rascal grandson who spams your doorbell until you agree to come out and look at the frog he caught. You’re thankful for Johnny’s presence in those times because he’s like a buffer between you and the things you can’t handle, a well-meaning but boisterous little kid a part of that.

The brunet sends him off with a ruffle of his hair, saying, ‘Alrigh, alrigh, leave the woman alone now, aye? Scamper off to yer gran, sure she’s worried boot where ye’ve gone,’ then he turns back to you on the porch step with a smile and takes a bite of his sandwich.

Secondly (and this falls under the first category you suppose, but this is more significant in your mind), he’s patient. Knows there’s something wrong with you- with your situation, that it’s left you a little sour and weak- but he never presses the envelope when it comes to the seedier details. I mean, the station’s already taken your formal story as well as the accounts of neighbors, so it’s not like he doesn’t know…

Even as he looks you in the eye, with his cerulean, rapt gaze that you swear doesn’t blink sometimes, you think he might be turning over the tale in his head. It’s one as old as time: girl falls in love with a fucked-up guy and pays for it.

Johnny stares hard, but he never stares like he’s judging, no…

Admiring, if nothing else. Albeit you’re not so sure what there is to admire— you’re some backroad hick with scars still fading and a sort of social clumsiness that only comes from rickety relationships and the hesitance to brush your fingers with his because they’re big and calloused and he could use ‘em to hit you. But he doesn’t. He never does. You wait for the blow and wait forever.

Ghost is like a ramrod. In all regards.

He doesn’t bounce from heel to heel all the time like his Scottish counterpart, wired with endless energy, no, he stands straight and tall and with his hands at his side. Big and unmovable. His eyes are a soft, dark brown but they’re cold. You were sure that first time you’d met him that he felt nothing- a man made of steel and the dents that misshape it. He seemed heartless.

It took a little time- and lots of careful observation, much overthinking- to realize it, but you were wrong. Simon is kind. (And you do call him that now, Simon; you’d said it on accident, but he didn’t seem to mind or shoo you off by saying something about oh no you gotta call me by my sign ‘cause i’m a big bad cop blah blah blah. He’d let out a microscopic breath and his lashes fluttered, and with a dip of his chin to acknowledge your profuse apologies, he’d muttered, s’alright. And since then he’s been Simon.)

And things have been alright, lately.

The boys drop by (sometimes alone, sometimes with the other in tow) for growingly frequent visits and sniff around your weedy little square of property like hounds, but they don’t find whatever the hell they’re looking for. Your boyfriend, probably. You think his scent’s gone cold ‘cause they haven’t found him yet.

You’ve never asked them.

Never mentioned it at all.

And again- thank God that neither of them prod for more information from you, but sometimes you see the silent question in their eyes. Aren’t you curious what’s come of him? Your boy?

But you don’t intend on spilling your heart out to these two kind-hearted, not quite strangers— not when they’ve already done so much for you.

There’s a little wriggling worm in the back of your head that begs to ask just why they’re so adamant on checking up on you at least thrice a week, but you don’t voice that either. It’s a somewhat harsh theory, but they’re probably just makin’ sure you didn’t kill yourself.

…‘Cause that’s what you are now, right? That’s how everyone’ll see you as. Pathetic and fragile like a tattered cardboard box with red tape plastered on each side.

And… It’s okay. You think you’ve come to peace with it. Ain’t nothin’ the folks around here can throw at you that’ll leave a mark; your mama and old man and ex-boyfriend did plenty a good job at that, and there’s also nothing they can say to hurt you because the voice in your head already screams it all.

That’s not to say your heart has hardened, though. No- it melts a little when Simon pulls out the barstool and mutters a soft thanks for the peanutbutter and jelly you fixed up for him. It even gives a weak little stutter when you unlatch the door and scamper off, Johnny’s eyes tracking your bare legs as you run to find shorts, his breathless chuckle ringing behind you.

Even then, in your old daisy dukes, he’s looking.

Stealing glances when you’re behind the counter pouring him lemonade; you assure yourself he isn’t.

He’s… a cop and, although he’s a whit flirtatious, he’s damn near programmed to survey every personage he comes across. With you, he’s looking for bruises and scars and- and you know what? He’s probably not even looking at all (even if you feel his eyes, that stark blue stare that harbors a hunger only men can really carry, burning into your profile long after you turn).

If somebody told you you lost it, you wouldn’t hurt for it, you’d just shrug and quietly understand.

Hey— The heat is certainly doing no favors for your mind fog: Lately, crowded on your narrow concrete porch step with Simon, you’re even deluded enough to think you feel his gaze on you, drifting along the slope of your cheek with an interest that frankly feels misplaced as you’re rambling on and on about the craziness of Honey Boo Boo.

(“Yeah, sweetheart? When you make supper tonight, put it on the telly. I’ll give it a look while I eat.”)

(“Y-You might lose your appetite. It’s not really a show you watch while eating-“

(“It’ll be fine.“)

He doesn’t tell you it’s impossible, that men like him never stop hungering. It’s hardly imaginable, anyway, to lose his appetite when you’ll be sitting there beside him, curled up on the sofa with a plate, pretty as fucking ever as he humors some shitty reality show for you.

He’s never told you, either, how gorgeous you are. Sometimes it’s all he wants to say because horrifically enough, he thinks you don’t know it, that all your self worth and awareness has been birched out of you by that asshole- but he quietly decides to leave that to Johnny.

That bastard’s always complimenting you. Even in the more private setting of their patrol car, bumping through familiar routes, the Scot’s running his mouth about how sweet you were today and how much that fucker didn’t deserve you and— fuck professionalism, can’t he just touch you? Just once-? Just. Ach, bloody hell, Ghost, I’d kill a man just to grab a fistful of her pretty hair and smell. Wannae hug her and wipe away all her fuckin’ memory of him.

Oh, he knows.

Simon will admit this much, with hands that clench the wheel and slacks that tighten a fraction at all the very vivid images his cohort paints for him of their doll: Johnny is annoying- endlessly annoying- but he’s right.

You’re perfect. Sugar sweet. Simon licks over his teeth without thinking when he’s talking to you (contentedly third-wheeling a conversation Johnny’s pulled you into) and feels his mouth water up. He wants to hold you, too, scorch away any and every idea of that shitty old boyfriend of yours, and tuck away your bangs that you let fall in your face because you’re instincively trying to hide from him.

Kindred and beaten. He wants to tell you you’re the same- but still, so much better than him.

…But all that for later.

✦✦✦

At your table, he digs into lasagna with a fork and foregoes cutting it into smaller bits with the knife. You suppose he can make anything digestible; with big enough teeth, you never have to worry. Beside him, Johnny drums his fingers- ungloved, his jacket folded with them on your sofa- on the wood and flashes you a smile when you catch his eyes.

You’ve hardly finished half your plate when you realize Johnny’s is empty. And now he’s just staring, sapphire hues remniscient of arctic plains skimming over you as you dip your chin to scoop dinner into your mouth.

It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking when he looks at you, what it is he’s seeing. You’d never admit that you feel a little unnerved by it. Even the fact that the two policemen who worked your case have become a tangible piece of your reality feels… Perturbing, almost. Four months scurry past with fast feet and leave you blinking back the dust. They weaseled into your sad little life in their own respective ways and you had nothing to say against it.

They were professional. Until they weren’t, until they were friendly.

And then they were friendly—

Johnny’s teeth, white and perfect, sharp under the buttery light of the fixture overhead, glint at you. You’re made to feel inexplicably self conscious by it. He says- with a tone that feels oddly suggestive, like there’s some hidden meaning to it- watching you with utmost interest as you eat, “Was fuckin’ delicious, hen. Ah think ah wannae second plate o’ it. Ye got some more?”

—Until they were not.

Bravely, you glance over to Simon and he’s wolfing down the last few spoonfuls. And he’s watching you, too, from the corner of his eye like some bird of prey.

Reaching over to gingerly pluck a napkin from its holder, you dot the corner of your lip (really just as a way to distract yourself as they stare) and offer a smile. “Y-Yeah, ‘course,” you nod backwards toward the stove where the tin sits, cracking a joke. “Just gotta get there before Simon does.”

It doesn’t exactly lighten the weird tension in the small space of your trailer home, but it alights Soap’s face with a dazzling grin. Johnny’s laugh is harsh, quick. Too amused. Once, it’d felt like a reward, like an audible confirmation that you were acknowledged in a pleasant, uniquely human way. It wouldn’t earn you a soft slap to the cheek (a wordless warning) or a cluck of a disapproving tongue. Johnny and Simon weren’t like that. They were good.

Two good men.

Your mouth feels dry.

Unease lodges deep in your throat. You swallow it down with some iced tea but it remains after the gulp.

So… maybe they aren’t exactly friendly anymore, or professional- like their shiny gold badges on their chest would demand of them- but they still showed up whenever they were called. Still shooed your crude, reckless boyfriend off the street when he was drunk and causing disturbances. And that day when he ran off and left you—

They were there for you.

Nobody else is there for you.

So yeah, okay, maybe this situation is a little strange, you’ll admit that much, and you vaguely wonder if their boss back at the station is even a mite aware of what his underlings get up to in the short windows their patrol trips will allow- but it’s not like you’re used to normal.

The boys are just a tiny bit weird with how they’ve been starting to forego the polite knocks and enter on their own accord, with how they hover when you’re cooking and how Johnny will absentmindedly pull you onto his lap on the couch before you squeak and alert him to reality- the reality that you’re just some stupid domestic case he handled, not his girlfriend. But you’re weird too, aren’t you? I mean, by that logic, you’re so, so far gone.

Damaged goods, a voice rings in the back of your head. You don’t thank it for its provision but it helps to steel your nerves, the reminder that you can manage these things because they’ve already struck you once before.

B-But again— I mean, your ex-boyfriend did leave you messed up… so maybe, just maybe, it’s all in your stupid head after all. You’re making these mountains out of molehills when it comes to their behavior.

Simon sets his utensil down. “Nah, go ahead, Soap. I had my fill,” he comments, and he’s right, he had a massive serving- but his gaze, umber and intense, consistently flickers back to you.

Your kitchen— no, your whole world— feels heavier with every cocksure syllable that comes out his scarred mouth. “Gotta save some room for dessert, anyway.”

You roll your suddenly dry lips to moisturize them before chiming, “d-dessert?”

You’d thought supper was it for tonight. You only have so much groceries to ration with the budget you’re losing and recipes to pull out your sleeve. In any case, the plan for this evening was to make the boys dinner (because they arrived- without prompting, per usual- and you figured it was the polite thing to do), and then send them on their merry way.

Once Johnny gets his seconds, they’re gone.

They’re supposed to be.

T-They’re staring- the both of them still. Staring hard.

Ghost snags your attention. Keeps it leveled intently, maybe a little nervously, on him. Johnny is just a blur of brown hair (his stupid mohawk he has no right to rock), sun-speckled skin and electric blue eyes beside him.

Ghost is all darkness from where you sit- pale skin broken up by colored scars, a black thermal and shadowy eyes; the only highlight in them, white and blocked, is the small portrait of yourself looking back at him. She looks healthy. But she still looks frightened.

“Dessert, pet,” he solidifies, gentle but firm. No room to argue here. He’s a cop anyway, not like you could get a good speaking point in when the threat of being cuffed will always dangle somewhere overhead.

But! They would never do that to you. Abuse their power. Abuse their manhood, hold your womanhood against you. Simon and Johnny are not like your boyfriend. Ex. Ex-boyfriend. They’re not.

“I- I don’t understand,” you laugh. “I don’t have anything to make.”

Johnny perks up, as if it’s his job to placate you, “Dinnae worry, bonnie. Ye’ll see soon enough. Me n’ Simon here got a lil’ somethin’ ta repay ya.”

“Wh- what, like a cake or something?” With a shake of your head, you pinch your brow and try to make your humor seem solid, real. But in the back of your head you know they’re trained to spot the faults, the little fractures in even the most rigid of personalities; to pin them and capitalize off them.

“I didn’t know it was my birthday.”

Soap chuckles again. There’s no doubt in your mind his mirth is genuine. “Ach. Not quite... Reckon you’ll be feeling like it, though,” he assures, unruffled as ever as your world spins. Not his world, he is fine from where he sits. “Happy li’l lass on her birthday.” It’s strange to see excitement- so audacious and stark- glimmering on a grown man’s face, but it’s there in abundance, softening weathered lines into an almost boyish look.

You’re fooled into a second of peace by it, until he shoulders the conversation- and the unspoken omen of it- over to his buddy.

“Tell her, Ghost. Lookit her- haha, she’s a curious one. Bet she’s jist as eager, aye?”

“Don’t get ahead o’ yourself, Johnny,” Simon murmurs, before his jaw flexes and he says after a thoughtful beat, regarding you quietly, “You’re scarin’ the girl.”

Are you scared?

You don’t know anymore. But if you are, you’re glad for their telling you about it. It’s hard to discern your feelings otherwise. You need the waving red stop signs and green lights to inform you of what’s happening inside of you and if it’s allowed.

It’s as pathetic as it is necessary.

As you clean up dinner, the boys circling behind you like vultures to roadkill as you helplessly busy yourself with the dishes as a last try at warding them off, you wonder where your baby is.

You wonder if he misses you there.

✦✦✦

It’s such a big stretch.

It takes your breath on the way in and when he bottoms out, you find yourself wishing for the couch to swallow you up in one of its crevices; you could disappear there and join the collection of missing pennies and dimes and go brainless for a bit. That’s a reprieve you don’t find, though, not here.

You should get those ideas of self autonomy and rest out of your pretty little head. You’ll always fall into the hands of some man- your abusive boyfriend or otherwise.

Four are roaming you, now, with all the reverence in the world but you don’t know how to respond to that touch. Soap’s fingers leave your forehead after he removes the lock glued there with a tut of his tongue, perspiring at your temple as your insides accommodate to the slow intrusion.

Simon thinks you’re something plucked from the renaissance era, your hair splayed around your head in a halo, one hand balled to your breast while the other presses into the cushion with discomfort.

The cushions are floral, a sage, ratty green patterned with what looks to be blushing carnation and their sprawling vines. It frames you perfectly: a nymphet in her garden, at home, with a distinct look of distress that’s almost painterly as he bullies his cock inside. It’s not like it’s the first time you’d laid on your back for a man- your ex- but it’s been a while, and even then it wasn’t anything this big.

Simon is monstrous and intimidating. You feel as if you’re being deflowered all over again. Startled and sweating.

“Gentle, Simon,” is all you can hope to plead for as, from your side, by the arm of the couch behind your head, a corded set of legs lumber over and stop.

Ghost lets out a grunt over you, voice strained as he stills his hips for a few moments. He’s kind enough to give you some time to adjust, but you think he needs the breathe as well. You fit him tighter than a latex glove and it’s hard to think, let alone make a reply but he manages.

“Being ‘bout as gentle as I can be, sweetheart.”

Inches from your head, Johnny bends over to ruck down his jeans and the too-tight, pesky denim, letting out a curse when he can’t peel them off fast enough. It’s been made very obvious just how eager the two were to become acquainted with you in a more physical way, but it’s Soap who takes the cake in embarrassing himself for it. Though to be fair, he doesn’t seem to mind much, kicking off his pants when they pool at his ankles, untucking himself from his briefs with urgency.

“Ach. Ye better be gentle with her. We owe her tha’, don’t we? Although…” Soap starts, a certain glint in his electric blue eyes that’s reminscient of glowing orbs between dark trees at night- the gaze of a beast- when you glance up. Your eyes are bleared when he cups your jaw under his palm and stoops over, sampling a weirdly affectionate kiss before grinning. That smile is just as predatory, even as his eyes soften into a delirious sort of fondness.

“S’pose we already did her some big favors, aye? Fixing things around her place, mowing the yard…” he drawls, “we even took oot the rubbish for our li’l babe.”

Simon stills at that. Tenebrous, heavy eyes dart across the bridge of your nose but you just moan and try to roll on your side to evade the fat cockhead that slithers through your walls, dead to all else but it. He lets out a deep breath, shifting impossibly closer on his knees and regathering your legs in his hands before giving an experimental thrust in. Testing the waters. Testing if you’re a screamer or a whimperer.

Johnny’s a whisperer— muttering filth in your ear as he awkwardly bends down again and collars you with a wet kiss to your neck. This whole arrangement feels less like a raunchy, impromptu hookup and more like two mutts pissing on a fire hydrant to mark it as theirs. Albeit, the brunet would call it your birthday, because this is a gift to you, right?

He looks like he’s got something to celebrate, anyway. Handsome face weighty with arousal as he gives his hardening length a few strokes, but his body language conveys mirth as he rocks on his heels.

“Isn’t tha’ right, pretty girl? Yeah? Ye don’t have ta nod yer head- jist go on and give Simon a nice li’l squeeze— Simon, d’ya feel her? Fuck. Yer so much better off without that—“

“Johnny,” the blond warns, and as Simon readjusts you once more for extra comfort, pulling you closer on his cock, you watch through a blurred lens as the strange fog in oceanic blues clears out, long lashes fluttering over drooping lids.

For whatever silent conversation of theirs you’re not privy to, Johnny acquiesces. Dust settles in the wake of that feral, almost victorious glint in the Scotman’s eye. He’s just a whit gentler as he straightens his spine and guides himself to your lips.

And, you know, in some parallel universe maybe you wouldn’t be sucking some good-cop-bad-cop’s cock as he feeds it to you in second-long segments. Puts you on a sort of portion control- but your belly already feels full with his buddy as he begins to set a slow pace, heeding your earlier plea, and you’ve not much appetite for it but he’s a giver anyway.

No, you’d be traveling on the road and cursing over potholes in a refurbished RV and in love with life—

“Fuuuckin’ hell,” The taste of him draws you back to real life. He’s salty, hot. Your lips wrap around him clumsily and you do your damnedest to not gag as it curves down your throat. He’s massive in his own right; thick and veiny and ready to go even if you hesitate at first.

Simon clamps his eyes shut, wanting to block the sight of his mate’s cock out, and Johnny’s crinkle with pleasure.

He hisses through perfect white teeth. “Wooh. There ye go. What a goooood fucking lass. Ye seein’ this, Simon-?”

“Tryin’ not to.”

“-Och- she feels so bloody good. Bet her pussy’s even sweeter-“

“Reckon it’d feel even better for all three o’ us if you shut your gob, Soap.” Simon snips, wetting his bottom lip as it gets hot and dry in the room and your small living space whirls with the patent smell of sex and sweat. It beads at your forehead, clumps up on the underside of your thigh that the blond keeps hitched up; trickles over the girth of his fingers and your face. When he spots it there on your jaw, he’s tempted to bow down and lick it up. Johnny’s member sliding in and out of your parted lips- swollen from all the prior kissing- wards him off well enough, though.

Head lolled on your shoulder, a calloused but bizarrely gentle hand supporting it as you hollow out your cheeks for Johnny, your eyes flit over to the coffee table. You barely catch it over the din of groans and loud vulgarity interwoven in sounds of praise- the vibration of a phone- but it’s there amidst the slapping skin and deep breaths and makes you look over.

Your phone screen lights with a message. Interest piques in you as you rapidly blink back the clouding of your tear ducts, thankful for the relief even if only mental to coax you from your present situation: the hands and fingers and eyes raking all over you.

It’s a notification of some sorts. An alert, you think, but not the atypical kind from a contact saved in your phone. It seems like it’s from an official account but you only spy the tail end of it before your screen fades to darkness.

“Lookit me, pet.”

We regret to— Identified— Something something- you’re not paying it all that much attention anymore because Simon aims a palm at your tit and gropes it, keen on the small whimper you reward him with even if it’s muffled around Soap as he cants himself past your stretched lips. Johnny likes it, too, practically preening as he tightens his clutch in your hair and croons down at you, rocking his hips into your wet, fucking divine mouth with a growing loss of self restraint.

He gets it, he has to be considerate and all— but damn it all if your tongue doesn’t feel fucking perfect as it licks up the flushed underside of him as his engorged tip squelches at the back of your throat.

You’re everything he dreamed of and then some.

Ghost’s voice, again, slithers through the barrage of noises as he seeks the wet heat between your thighs. “Sweetheart, have a look.”

You don’t really know if you want to, but you do have a look. Your eyes flit up to his before following his own to the juncture of you both, his fat cock spearing you open— the proof of it jutting in a subtle bulge along your abdomen. It’s horrifying. Something straight from an alien movie- a parasite wriggling inside you— but when you instinctively clamp down, Simon groans and looks like his breath’s been stolen when he meets your eye again. “Good girl. You’re a good girl.”

There’s a haze all around you. Sickening. Dizzying. The boys smell of the world outside and distinctly masculine; they don’t kick their boots off at the door and rather track all the mud inside- tainting you with it. This was your space. After your boyfriend left, it was supposed to be. And you were meant to be free.

Johnny lets out a long string of expletives as he nears his edge, heavy balls hitting your chin every so often when he presses the envelope on just how far he can reach down your throat before you start hurling out dinner. These two individuals were the only ones there for you when your whole world, without warning, started to cave at its middle, and you were always grateful for that, endlessly. But when the brunet comes down your trachea with a roar, holding your head in place as you gag, and tells you with a breathless grin to thank him for it-?

Fire lashes in you.

Your brow corrugates. A flash of anger, indignant and humiliated, arises from the baser part of you and the blond leans over you to slap Johnny away. “Gentle my fuckin’ arse. Don’t make her swallow that shite. Now piss off, lemme finish alone w’her.”

The gleeful look on Johnny’s face withers into a scowl. “What?! That’s no’ fair! C’mon, she knows it was just a joke. Tell the ghost, sweetie, tell him ye want me ta stick around.” He winks. “That it tastes good.”

After grudgingly swallowing it down, there’s certain moment where you just splutter, desperate to catch your breath as the cop- almost ruefully- slides his dick out from your mouth and deliberates on tucking himself back in. Then, Simon takes your face in his big paw and guides your eyes to his, his own dark caramel ones simmering with something intense, unable to be named.

“You don’t want him stickin’ his nose in our business, do ya?” He all but grumbles, “he’s had his turn-“

“With her mouth! I can go again once yer finished, Ghost,” he pops up a pointer finger, “dinnae underestimate—“

Briefly, Simon pauses, tosses him a quick look and barks, “Quiet, Johnny. You’ve had your go at her. Told you we should’ve bloody waited, she’s hardly ready for one o’ us, let alone both. Y’just couldn’t fucking wait?” (You get the inexplicable inkling that he’s making an indirect address to something else, then.) He sighs, steadies himself, refocuses on the moment and the way your cunt feels as it hotly mouths him in, lapping at his veiny sides. “Hop off it a moment, lad.”

Soap scrunches his nose. “She’s a strong woman. She can take it. Think ye should stop selling her short-“

“Both of you just stop already!” you murmur through the gap your hands make as they seal over your flushed face. You bushwhack yourself with the boldness of it all. It was long past the due time to grow a backbone but it was getting late and you were cranky and you still had to finish tidying the kitchen as soon as the boys took their leave. They’ve overstayed their welcome and as the reality of it all dawns upon you, the initial freeze response thaws into irritation.

“You two are both leaving right after—!”

A laugh, harsh and vigorous, cuts you off. “Ach, I don’t think so, hen. Cannae get rid o’ us that easily.”

Confusion reshapes you. Your face pinches and you look between the men anxiously as Simon resumes his pace again, clasping your hips on both sides as he drives himself home. You gasp and lie back again, fully recumbent as you cover your mouth. It makes you go numb all over again, the warmth of his body over yours stifling, his girth stretching you out deliciously as he repeatedly hits that one spot in you that points all rational thought to the door.

“But y-you have to leave—“

“Well,” Johnny cuts you off, then, and Simon doesn’t bother straightening him out this time. He lets him talk. He supposes, anyway, that for as dedicated as he is to his good cop role, he’s really no better than Johnny in this singular regard.

With you.

Blue eyes twinkle with delight. Simon’s grunting over you, his small sounds of pleasure picking up in volume and frequency, and you get the idea he’s gonna come soon.

Soap chuckles, knowing something you don’t, “Yer right, actually, hen. We are leaving. But yer comin’ with as well, aye?”

(Fuck your bastard ex-boyfriend for never fixing up that piece of shit RV in the back. Fuck him fuck him fuck him.)

✦✦✦

It doesn’t take much for Price to get Simon’s attention. A short, yet no less urgent word over his walkie is what has him in this time.

When he walks in, the chief greets him with a tight smile over the rim of his coffee mug and nods to the seat opposite his desk. “Simon, good to see you. Sit.”

So Simon does. He takes a few steps forward (it’s all it takes for his long legs to reach the center of his office), shuts the door behind him, and pulls out a chair. John’s desk is messy, though the blond knows that’s not how he prefers it— paperwork piled up in a small mountain, nearly spilling off the mahogany edges; there’s hardly even enough room for his steaming drink or the shiny little standee with his name on it, but he manages in one way or another.

Dark hues appraise the clutter for a second too long before finally returning the eye contact expected of him. He’s not used to feeling uncomfortable, Simon, but the more the clock hanging overhead the door clicks, the more Simon readjusts himself in the almost too-small leather chair and awaits his superior’s words.

They finally come. “You know why I called you in here today?” Simon’s also not used to feeling like a disobedient child called to have a chat with the school’s principal, but it crosses his mind for a moment anyway. He wets his bottom lip, and gives Price no verbal response. Better to wait it out, he thinks.

The brunet’s smile pinches as he gives a few fast blinks.

Ghost spots something, then, amidst the hodgepodge of documents and wayward pens. Under the small desk light with a crooked neck, by the phone stand, a yellow folder lay. It’s opened, unlike the other ones— and the tip of something peeks its head out, cold and black.

A videotape, he suspects- and a whole plethora of thoughts hail down on him, briefly, shadows revolving behind his brain- before returning the stare of the man in front of him.

Ghost sniffs. “…What you got there?”

Lightless, mildly curious eyes bore into warm brown ones. Searching for something.

A silent moment passes, but very slowly. Price ultimately looks down to the object in question and takes it in his big paw, untucking the rectangle-shaped item inside. He gives it a shake as he speaks, and Simon reads the diminutive wording scrawled in sharpie over a white label.

The date is a familiar one.

“This,” he starts, a sage sort of look in his eye as it widens- peers into Ghost’s soul and scours it- “is the motel a town over, one week ago.” He points his chin, with unwavering eye contact, to a crisp paper atop the stack, “and that’s the owner’s report of the body we found in one of the rooms. Any o’ this ringing a bell?”

Simon, boredly, or maybe thoughtfully, looks off to the side and offers a small, one-shouldered shrug. “You didn’t put me or my partner on that case,” he says simply, “Can’t say I’m familiar.”

He doesn’t exactly intend on it sounding like an excuse- and to Ghost’s credit, it doesn’t: his deadpan tone is too good for most of anything to slip through— but he wonders if his chief is regarding it as a truth or an alibi.

A beat passes. John smiles.

And as a reply to that, he folds his hairy hands over his desk and leans forward to emphasize his following sentiment; he speaks in a low murmur but it’s clear to the blond. Crystalline. He nods to Simon as he does, or maybe he nods to himself.

“It’s a familiar face, though, the body we pulled from the closet. A real fuckin’ mystery, innit? First thought I had was- how the fuck are we gonna break this to the poor doll? But I never got the chance to think long and hard on it. You know why?”

Another segment of quiet comes and goes. The blinds of the office are pulled, sealed shut, the event of any potential onlookers or nosy colleagues peering in precluded. It’s just him and John right now, but Simon can’t help but feel like the big man upstairs is looking too, that omniscient, godlike gaze tracking him, and he gets a feeling no different than it when he’s stood under the crosshair of another asshole’s gun.

He sniffs again, asks without much interest, “Why?”

His overling says with what seems as puzzlement but Simon knows very well is not: “Because the doll’s been reported missing yesterday by a neighbor. Said she hasn’t shown for a day and her grandson saw a car come and go.”

Ghost blinks and looses a sound that’s equally a scoff as it is a sigh. “Hell of a way to start off the week, yeah? Poor bird flew off… Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“She doesn’t have any means to, though. Fly off.” Price leans forward even more but Simon holds staunchly, perfect poker face and all. “Got any ideas, lad?”

“Called an uber, likely.”

A laugh, harsh and short. “An uber, yeah.” A deep sigh of exasperation through his nostrils- and then all semblance of cordial conversation between two officers goes out the window.

“You want to be honest with me, now? Or do I gotta drag Soap in here? M’sure he’ll have your stories tied up in one pretty bow for me, mm? All nice n’ neat? Or did you even fucking think that far ahead?!”

Johnny? That motormouth? Hell no. This situation is already fast to flee Simon’s hands, but it’ll all go to hell in a handbasket as soon as that gobshite’s involved. Mactavish can hardly maintain an inside voice (one that’s broken entirely when the doll’s brought up), and the blond knows he’ll flub with an alibi, entangle himself in a position he’d be hard-pressed to get out of. It’ll be one crazy match of twister that’s almost funny to think about but neither men laugh, rigid and sober.

Ghost swallows thickly. Wets his lip again; all his movements kept simple and slow. His heart skips just once, though. The phantom hand of guilt knocks at his heart. Simon buries it down before he opens his jaw again, “What d’ya plan to do, Captain?” Is all he says.

He has no real proposal here. It’s not his or Johnny’s first mishap, but it’s unclear whether or not he’ll be covered on this one— or if he even can be, what with the shiny black videotape inches away, hard and real.

Proof of wrongdoing.

Price maintains eye contact for another tense handful of seconds more before his gaze dips. He looks down at the tiny tape his hands dwarf, considers something. Careful and meticulous, mulling it over in his head.

Shadows pass through Simon’s.

…Better to wait this out, though.

The blond watches Price’s severe visage lessen by a fraction. He tucks the tape away. Reseals the folder and slips it beneath the mammoth stack of papers on his desk. Ghost doesn’t know all the nitty-gritty, who’s seen that tape or if it’s been duplicated, in possession of another but for what he can see here and now, it’s been buried.

“…About what, lad?”

Simon blinks. Price flashes a close-lipped smile, warm eyes just a bit too crinkled to be considered kind- not that Simon’s ever gave away his guise- and folds his hands.

The flaxen badge on his crisp uniform glints when Ghost, betraying nothing, rises from his chair- and it nearly blinds him on his way out.

He stops at the door just before leaving, though, as if his legs are bound by some inexplicable force. He looks partially over his broad shoulder, just halfway to make the clarification.

“…She’s alright, for the record. Safe.”

“I know, Simon. I know.”

Ghost hears the crisp sound of upright papers bumping against wood.

A cue to leave. He takes it.

Home is waiting for him, after all, with open arms. And knowing that Johnny’s no doubt doting all over her— okay, home is waiting for him with open legs, too.

Bastard just better not be hogging up all her attention.

[jooyeonsvape]

teasing in public: ot6

genre: smut

w/c: 3.4k

pairings: ot6, female reader

a/n: i wrote hyeongjun’s while listening to kiss me by sixpence none the richer so i was in heaven hehe

xdh masterlist

gunil- he brought you along with him to practice considering it was your only day off this week, and he was so excited. his favorite things in this world were you and showing his muscles off to you, so he was in heaven.

"watch this, i've been working on it." gunil takes one of his drumsticks then flips it, catching it perfectly and your face glows. "that was so hot baby!!"

his smirk tells you everything you needed to know, he was impressed with himself no doubt. "want me to show you how to do it?" he asks, patting his lap and you happily oblige.

you sit on one of his toned thighs, giving his lips a small kiss, "show me your ways." you giggle, spending a few minutes flipping his drum stick before you finally catch it. "i did it!!" you yelp, bouncing excitedly in his lap and gunil clears his throat.

"i could be a drummer just like you baby!" you were too distracted by your first drum stick catch to notice gunil's pants getting tighter in the front. you move completely onto his lap then take the other stick from him and start pounding on the drums, pretending to be him at a concert.

"the boys are gonna be here soon angel, i need to practice." you nod, getting the hint he wanted you to stop playing around but before you stand up, something pokes your butt.

"are you....-" you ask and he rests his head on one of your shoulders, "please don't leave my lap until it goes away, they're going to torment me." you smile to yourself and rub against him slowly which made his body jolt. "well that's not going to help."

the boys walk in after eating and stop when they notice you on gunil's lap. "are you playing drums today?" seungmin asks with a laugh and you nod, "his mind is somewhere else right now."

the entire two hours of practice was you bouncing on him purposely and rubbing your ass slowly against his bulge when no one was noticing. "you're going to get it later." gunil whispers in your ear and your body got full body chills.

jungsu- skirts were your boyfriend jungsu's favorite clothing item you own, which you often took advantage of. the two of you planned on meeting at the local bar your friends attend every weekend and you slipped on the tight new pleaded miniskirt you bought just for him.

at the bar, all eyes were on you, including jungsu, who's eyes widened when you walked in. he scurried over and made sure everyone knew you were his, by kissing your lips deeply. "hi baby, we're playing pool, want to join?" he was now rubbing your exposed hip and the two of you walk to your friends when you nod.

eyes were still on you by other men in the bar and you could feel the heat radiating off of jungsu's body from jealously.

you decided to distract your boyfriend by grabbing a pool stick and lining up your shot infront of him while he sits on a chair.

you bend down low that only jungsu could see under your skirt, and you knew his mood already changed without even needing to see his face.

you purposely decided to wear no underwear so you could tease him, shaking your bum a bit in the air and looking over your shoulder with a smirk. his face was the perfect level of lust and surprise to make you satisfied, then you hit the cue ball with a happy bounce so your skirt flew up.

before you could turn around to look at jungsu for approval, you felt a pair of hands on your hips. "let's go baby." jungsu was poking your butt with his now hard-on and he leads you to the bar bathroom quickly. with the noise coming out of the tiny stall, no one had to question who you belonged to.

jiseok- typical friday nights are you and jiseok at his favorite restaurant, eating eomuk, but tonight you were craving something else. as he eats happily, you had your head rested on his shoulder. "are you almost done?" you half whine and he scoffs. "i just got started baby," a laugh left his mouth then takes another big bite.

the waitress comes with more side dishes that jiseok ordered earlier and you groan. "i want you." you whisper in your boyfriends ear and he looks down at you. "i'm right here angel."

obviously he didn't pick up the hint so you take matters in your own hands and wrap an arm around his waist. he was just humming to himself while eating, and not paying much attention to your actions, which of course made you more motivated. "is my baby sleepy?"

you blush at his words and shake your head with a giggle, fidgeting with his belt buckle. the waitress comes back with dessert menus and he orders a slice of strawberry cake for the both of you to share.

when she leaves, you look around at other customers in the restaurant, noticing they're all focused on their conversations and not the two of you.

he goes on his phone while he waits for the dessert to come and you rub his full belly. your hand goes down more slowly while you rub and jiseok runs his fingers through your hair.

he starts shuffling a little in his seat and his breathe hitches when you trace the zipper on his pants. "babbby." you hear him whine and you evilly laugh to yourself. "i told you, i want you."

"but we're in a restaurant." a shallow breathe comes out as you unzip his pants painfully slow, and your head perks up when you notice he wasn't wearing underwear. "beautiful." you whisper in his ear, nibbling on it gently with a hum.

you pull him all the way out under the table and jerk his dick, watching as he tries to keep his face blank. "if you don't stop, i'll moan in my favorite restaurant and wont be able to come back." he mumbles out the side of his mouth, but you shrug, continuing to stroke. "then let's leave."

jiseok moves your hand away and zips his pants back up, jumping up from the booth when he sees the waitress heading to your table. "we're gonna take this to go." he grabs it from her hands and drags you out in a hurry.

"i'll give you the entire slice if you give me head." jiseok laughs but was very serious and you nod, "deal."

seungmin- the bookstore you frequent was always quiet and serene so you could enjoy all the romance novels you read, it was like a second home.

you walk in with the familiar welcoming bell ringing behind you and the handsome librarian with short red hair greets you as he always does.

you noticed he grew his hair a bit and cut it in a mullet which makes your stomach do flips, it looks so good on him. “hii!” you blush, going to your favorite section of the library.

“i put this on hold for you, its the first new romance novel we got in months.” seungmin hands you the book and you take it, grazing his finger. “i’ll buy you a coffee as a thank you.” you politely offer but he shakes his head, making his earring shake with him, which you found cute.

the welcoming bell rings again indicating someone walked in which made seungmin yell a greeting to them. “you can take it home if you don’t finish it today.” his attention turned back to you and he walks away to put books on the shelf.

after a few hours of you reading and shuffling on the couch in the romance section, you notice seungmin hasn’t been by in an hour or so. you nosily look around to find your crush and see him sitting on the ground next to the couch.

you jump from surprise and hold onto your heart, “h-how long have you been there?” you ask with shock, looking down at the now flustered seungmin. “a while… i like hearing your reactions when you read, its adorable.” you blush hard and laugh, “why are you on the ground and not the couch then?”

he shrugs his shoulders, then proceeds to hop up on the couch and looks down at his hands awkwardly. you’ve never been one to be bold but it seemed like he took an interest in you and he was undeniably handsome. “do you want to kiss me?” you put it simply and his head shoots up.

“uh.. i mean- i wouldn’t necessarily say no, but im at work, it’d be inappropriate.” seungmin mumbles under his breath and you laugh, grabbing his cheek in one of your hands. “i wont tell.”

you kiss him softly at first, then unintentionally moaning when you felt his tongue slide into your mouth. he immediately pulls away and you could see his red cheeks, “it takes that little to make you moan?” his teasing made you bite your lip and then you stand up, straddle his waist. “well lets see how much it takes to make you moan.”

seungmin holds onto your hips and looks around with fear of being caught. there was no fear for you though, you needed to touch him desperately.

your lips smash against each other and he swirls his tongue around yours, making another soft moan leave your mouth. the kissing wasn’t enough, you needed some kind of tension so you start to slowly move your hips against his.

“you’re going to get me hard and i have 2 hours left.” seungmin whispers against your lips and you giggle. “how about i stay on this couch until you get off and we can resume?”

seungmin kisses your lips once more then flips you so he’s hovering over you, “good idea, now be a good girl and stay here reading.”

hyeongjun- roadtrips to the beach were how you and your boyfriend hyeongjun escape from the fame lifestyle, even if it’s for a weekend.

he loves his job passionately and it was hard to show you off considering he wasn’t supposed to be in a relationship, but he couldn’t help but fall in love.

“you’re absolutely perfect for me hyeongjun.” you randomly tell him while he drives and he laughs, his flustered face growing red.

“you’re more than perfect for me Y/N. everytime we’re together it feels like there’s fireworks erupting in my belly.” now it was you who was blushing.

he didn’t typically get this sappy but when he does it makes you feel like the most special girl in the world.

you grab his large hand in yours and lace your fingers with his, admiring his painted nails. “are we going to sleep on the beach?” you ask him but his face scrunches up, “do you want to wake up with sand in all your crevices?” hyeongjun questions back at you and his words make you laugh.

“fine fine, we’ll sleep in the car then. i just dont want to stay at a hotel, i want to feel one with nature.” you mumble, mindlessly playing with his fingers. “we can do that baby, i rented this car so no one will recognize it.”

the excitement bubbles in your stomach and you close your eyes with a smile while the sea air hits your nose.

hyeongjun looks for a secluded part of the beach and finds the perfect spot, parking on the sand. you happily get out and run to the ocean, throwing your shoes off on the way, then finally feel the water on your feet.

before you could turn around to yell for your boyfriend to join you in the water, he lifts you up and you yell for him to not throw you in, while laughing.

“kiss me 5 times and i won’t drop you.” hyeongjun was laughing and you hold on his neck tighter. “one.. two.. three… four… FIVE, now let downnn.” you kiss his lips with your legs wrapped around his waist.

“okay, you won, let’s get into shorts.” he chuckles, his eyes closed from how hard he was smiling at your reaction. “after, let’s find starfish and seashells.” you were still attached to his body and he nods in agreement, walking the both of you to the trunk of the rental van.

“i wish it was warm enough to actually get inside the beach.” hyeongjun mumbles while digging through his clothes to find shorts. it wasn’t freezing outside, but it also wasn’t hot enough to swim just yet.

“when it does get warmer will we be able to come here alone? the beach might have more people.” you mumble and he heard the worry in your voice. “i dont know baby, i’m talking to my manager about releasing our relationship but he hasn’t been able to get a yes or no.”

you just nod and kiss his lips, trying to stay positive, at least they haven’t said no yet. “let’s get changed.” you chirp, trying to make the mood better. hyeongjun gets in the back of the van, you following him, and then closing the door.

he takes his sweatpants off that were wet at the bottom from walking in the ocean earlier and you giggle at the memory. “jokes on you, you’re the one who’s going to sleep in wet clothes.” you stick your tongue out and he looks at them. “jokes on you, i was planning on turning the heater up and sleeping naked.”

you blush and hide your hands in your face, “you know we’ve never had sex while on the beach… even when we get a hotel.” you were trying to be sly but he picked up on it.

“are you saying you want to?” hyeongjun gives you his bunny smile that makes your body get full chills everytime. you still try to be sly and just shrug, “yeah it’s whatever, we can if you wanna.” he took that as a yes and caresses the back of your neck, “should we now, or save our energy so we can go starfish hunting?”

the blush stays on your cheeks and humming, you trace him through his boxers. “we’re still young, i think we have enough energy to do both.”

with that, he spreads his legs at the feeling of your finger, slowly groaning while he becomes harder every second. you kiss his neck softly, taking in his aroma as you trail down, now fully cupping his hard on in your hand, and kneading it.

the sounds from his mouth was enough to get you off, just knowing you made him feel good made your pussy clench. “want me to suck you off?” you ask in a tone that was much more sensual and he nods quickly.

you giggle and pull off his boxers slowly, his dick slapping against his stomach was your favorite part. “pretty boy,” you whisper and grasp him at the base then spitting on his tip so he was slick enough to jerk.

you jerk him slow at first but speed up as his breathing gets irregular, “kiss me.” he whimpers out and you kiss his lips sloppily, biting down on his bottom lip. “tell me when you’re about to cum.” you smirk and he nods, throwing his head back in pleasure,

“im about to-“ was all he said before you pulled your hand away, stopping his orgasm. “okay, come on, let’s go find seashells.” you happily say, changing into shorts while he looks at you shocked.

“save that anger for later baby.”

jooyeon- the best thing about being in the same company as your boyfriend is you live in the same dorms as everyone and it was easier to get in his dorm without fans or the media knowing about it.

you spend almost every night in his little bunk bed which you love so much considering he loves sleeping as much as you do.

“baby, come back to bed.” you whine, opening the privacy sheet that he has hanging around his bunk bed, but he blows you off.

him and jiseok were in very a serious video game match but you wanted to cuddle. “he is literally in the next room, and you do this every night, he won’t miss you.” you try to persuade jooyeon but he shoots you ‘in a minute’ look even though it’ll be a few more hours. “meanie.” was all you said before flopping back down on the pillows.

“well this meanie just got a gold medal so i think you should be nicer.” jooyeon smiled to himself and you just roll your eyes, “oh now you can hear me.”

after an hour of scrolling through tik tok you sit up to see jooyeon whining at the game indicating he lost and his competitive spirit definitely wouldn’t let him give up now.

you got an idea to take his mind off video games and on to you.

hyeongjun was at guitar practice for another hour so you climb down the bunk bed stairs without jooyeon hearing and take off your clothes until you were just in underwear.

you find a white button up in his very messy closet and slide it on, walking towards him slowly. “joonie?”

he glanced up once with a sigh, “five more minutes.” he groans and then realizes what he just saw, turning his head back towards you.

you smirk and walk closer, pushing his chair back enough so there was room for you to sit down on his lap. he was stunned for a minute then gets taken out of his trance by jiseok yelling his name loudly through the headphones.

“yeah, im here s-sorry…” jooyeon chokes out, glancing at the screen again and then at your chest.

he mutes the mic and pouts at you, “please, we’re at the end, if i quit now we’ll lose all our equipment,” he tries to reason but you shrug, “don’t mind me, proceed.” you smirk, unmuting the mic for him.

he continues with the match, giving orders to jiseok on how to win and you take off his button up then slowly unclip the front of your lace bra until you’re nude on the top.

his eyes blink fast when he notices your bare chest, wanting to grip them in his hands but the fight was too intense.

“fuck.” jooyeon looked down at your crotch slowly grinding on his lap, tilting your head in pleasure. “why are you cursing? we’re winning.” you hear jiseok chuckle in the headset and you hide a giggle.

“oh uh, i got a cramp in my hand, let’s continue, and hurry it up.” after jooyeon speaks he bites his bottom lip to stop a moan that threatened to come out as you grind faster. “i’m sorry man, i have to go.” he groans and turns off the game before jiseok could yell.

your hand was now in your panties, rubbing your clit while grinding against jooyeon’s dick through his shorts. “your pussy is worth more than equipment.” he chuckles and takes his dick out, too impatient to take you to the bed first.

as soon as your panties come off you hear the door swing open and a shocked hyeongjun walks in. “AHHHH.” he yells and runs to jiseoks room, traumatized from seeing your full nude body.

the embarrassment you felt made you fall onto jooyeon’s shoulder, not wanting to lift your head up. “YOU QUIT OUR GAME FOR PUSSY?” you heard jiseok yelling angrily and the both of you couldn’t help but laugh at his tantrum.

“HOUSE MEETING.” seungmin calls out, and jooyeon groans, looking down at his now soft dick. “great, now everyone knows we were fucking.” you whine from shame, borrowing in his neck deeper. “INCLUDING Y/N.” seungmin adds, knocking on the door. “we better go before mom gets mad, we’ll finish it later baby.”

a/n: hi i hope you enjoy!! tell me which one is your favorite!! mine is hyeonjun bc im apart of romantic hyeongjun supremacy lol

[astraysimp]

Little Mister

*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.*Hi besties! I’m back with another installment of  dad!skz , this time it’s………….SEUNGMIN’S TURN heheheheh ….dad!Seungmin has been on my mind a LOT lately >.< –baby pochacco >.<

Summary: your daily life with Baby pochacco and Seungmo 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀: Baby pochacco’s name is Seo Jun and he looks like baby Seungmin–5 months old

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'Warnings: VERY FLUFFY, dad!seungmo, baby boy is called ‘mister’, lots of pochacco, domestic!seungmo, petnames , fen!reader 

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

2.15 pm

That was the time the clock read and it meant baby Seo Jun was due to wake up from his nap soon. You and Seungmin had been in your living room, watching TV and cuddling, with  your baby monitor on the coffee table. Signaling his waking up, you heard Seo Jun whining and moved to get up to get Seo Jun. Placing a peck to your lips, Seungmin shook his head, “sit back down, hon. I’ll get him.” He told you, getting up and gently pushing you to sit down, with a kiss to your lips. “Minnie, are you sure? I can get him, bubs.” You interjected, before he shook his head. “No babe, I got him. Need to get minnie pochacco.” He smiled, walking upstairs to his nursery. 

Walking into the pochacco themed nursery, Seungmin smiled seeing Seo Jun in his crib– wearing a pochacco sleeping onesie. Making his way to the crib, Seungmin smiled and bent down, taking his little pochacco into his arms. “Hi mister. Did you sleep well, hm? Want to see mommy?” He smiled, placing a pochacco pacifier in his mouth, Seo Jun sleepily blinking and gripping Seungmin’s shirt–yes it was a pochacco shirt. Softly singing, Seungmin walked out of the nursery, downstairs to where you were. Seo Jun was perfectly content, his daddy singing to him and cradling him to his chest. “Look mister. There’s momma.” He smiled, and gently patted Seo Jun’s bum ,bouncing him. Smiling, you looked up from your phone, hearing Seungmin’s voice. “Oooh, there’s my little mister. Did you sleep well, my little pochacco?” You cooed, seeing him nuzzled against Seungmin’s chest.

Carefully sitting down, Seungmin smiled as Seo Jun reached one of his hands out to you. You smiled and let him hold onto your finger, as you kissed the top of his head. “Did daddy dress you up in those jammies, hm? My little pochacco, my sweet little Seo Jun-nie.” You cooed, as he giggled, still sucking his pacifier. “Hey, I’ll have you know he loves these pajamas, babe,” Seungmin laughed, lifting Seo Jun up. “You love being daddy’s little pochacco, don’t you mister?” He cooed, holding Seo Jun closer to his face, kissing all over his face.  Seo Jun giggled, placing his hands on Seungmin’s cheeks. “Ooooh, look at my babies. My pochaccos, so cute.” You smiled, scooting closer to them and planted kisses on Seo Jun’s cheek, before taking him into your arms. “Awwww, mommy needs some mister pochacco cuddles too, my little Junnie.” You cooed, cuddling him to your chest.

Seo Jun was a mummy's boy– much like his dad– and immediately relaxed in your arms. Seeing the two of you, Seungmin smiled and wrapped his arm around  your shoulders. “Look at my loves. Do you love mummy’s cuddles, mister? “ Seungmin smiled, as Seo Jun grasped one hand on your shirt, his cheek pressed against your chest. Laughing, Seungmin smiled, kissing his cheek before kissing your lips. You smiled, looking down at Seo Jun, before looking over to Seungmin, with tears in your eyes. “Baby, why’re you crying? What’s wrong?” He pouted, wiping a single tear. Shaking your head, you cradled Seo Jun closer to you, kissing the top of his little head. “Nothing, Min. I just feel so lucky. Look at our little pochacco, our own little baby.” You smiled, noticing how Seo Jun was gripping your shirt, still sucking his pacifier. “Awww, my love. It’s okay, if anything, I’m the lucky one. Getting to share these moments and share mister Junnie with you,” he smiled, kissing you again. You smiled, quietly sniffing, and rocked Seo Jun in your arms–one arm across his back and one under his bum.

You kissed Seo Jun’s forehead, seeing that he was looking up at you–with the same big brown puppy eyes that Seungmin has. “Hi, mister. My little baby. Mommy loves you so much, mister.” You cooed, as he put his hand on your lips, to which you pressed a kiss to his palm. Seungmin smiled, shaking his head. “Where are daddy's kisses, mister?” He smiled, leaning down to kiss Seo Jun’s chubby cheek. Turning his head, Seo Jun reached out, putting his hand on Seungmin’s lips. Softly laughing, he pretended to bite Seo Jun’s hand, hearing the baby let out loud giggles. “Silly boy. You look like your daddy.” You giggled, patting him on the bum. Looking up at you, Seungmin smiled. “He really does, huh, bubs?” Seo Jun smiled and went back to cuddling you chest. “Mhm, big puppy eyes, same little pout, just as cuddly too. He’s like a carbon copy of baby minnie. Remind me to ask your mom for more baby pictures, babe.” You laughed as he gasped. “While yes, he is a carbon copy of me, he’s just as sweet and loving as you….but no more baby pictures,though.” He smiled, poking you in the side. “Yah! why not?” You pouted, as Seo Jun looked between the two of you. “ Why do we need them? 1. My mom has sent you A LOT of them already and 2. We have a carbon copy of baby me right here.” He smiled, tickling Seo Jun’s tummy. Giggling, Seo Jun nuzzled further into chest. Kissing the top of his head, you smiled. “I guess you’re right, baby.  My big pochacco and baby pochacco.” Seungmin could only smile and nod. “Did I mention I bought him more pochacco clothes, baby?” He giggled, as you playfully rolled your eyes. 

Oh geez….Seungmin and his love for pochacco. But, he loved you and Seo Jun most.

*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.*Please don’t steal,translate,copy,steal,claim or repost my works*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.*AStraySimp2023*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.*

tags| @jinnie-ret @straykeedz-recs @straykeedz @ana-marais98 @binsito @chlodavids @moonjxsung

[ziggyzolch]

Queen Bee-atch Ⅵ (Regina George x Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of eating disorders, nothing explicit. Also almost smut.

✮✮✮

“I have a callus on my middle finger, but you can’t really see it unless I do this,” Janis and Damien’s eyes widen as you stick out both middle fingers, completely unaware. Janis jumps forwards to put your hands down, glancing at the teacher passing behind you. “Fucking idiot.” Janis mutters while taking the pencil you borrowed from her back. Shrugging, you glance at Cady, who was entranced by herself in her pocket mirror, then back to Janis while slapping her shoulder.

“Dude!” Janis grabs your wrists and holds them together,

“I bet you 10 dollars she wouldn’t notice us staring at her,”

Letting go of your wrists, Janis turns to look at Cady, “She used to live in Arkansas, dude. She must have some self-preservation skills left.”

“Africa,” You correct, “So what, you pussying out?”

Janis rolls her eyes, sticking her hand out for you to shake.

With a timer set on your phone, you and Janis stared at Cady. “Any second now,” Janis mutters, before announcements distract you both. You and Damien cheer when Janis’s name is announced for her art competition, while Cady’s still applying lipstick. Damien rolls his eyes, turning to Cady, “Oh my God! What shade is that?” Cady finally looks up, and you stick out your hand to Janis as she hands you a 10. “Oh it’s an elf,”

You raise an eyebrow, “Just ‘elf’? Is your eyeshadow ‘Santa’?” Janis slaps the back of your head, “So, you coming to my show?” Looking back down at her mirror, Cady puts on a sad face, “I can’t, I have tickets in Madison with my Mom.” Janis raises her hand to your face before you could mutter ‘I told you so’.

“You seem real bummed about it.” Janis mutters, turning back towards the front of the class.

✮✮✮

“Why do you have that?” Regina had invited you over after school, insisting that it'd be easier for you to go to the event together. You pulled a Lebanese flag out of your backpack, “It’s for Janis!” You push past her into her room, “Are you okay, by the way? Cady was a total bitch.” She drags you to her bed, “It’s nothing, they’ll probably be humping my leg tomorrow.” She points at a pile of clothes, “That’s your outfit, I’ll be in the bathroom.” She had picked out a band t-shirt and short black skirt for you. You were honestly impressed at how well she knew you, and shocked that she even had these.

After you finished changing, you turned to find Regina standing at her bathroom door, looking at you with a smirk. Her face drops slightly when you wrap your arms around your stomach and turn back around. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She approaches you and places her hands on your hips. “Nothing, it’s stupid.” You push her hands off you, moving towards her closet to find shoes. Walking up to you, she places her hands on your shoulders before you shake them off. Regina sighs, she knew she couldn’t fix everything in one day, but being confronted by it directly was different. She sits on her bed, waiting for you to come out, before patting the spot next to her. You avoid eye contact while approaching her. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, you speak up, “Do you only like me now because I lost weight?”

Regina’s eyes widen, “No! I’ve always liked you.”

You scoot away from her, “You didn’t give me the time of day when we were freshman. Even if you did like me then, you only started being nice after I lost weight.”

Regina sighs, “I didn’t want to like you. Not because of your weight or anything! Liking girls was just something I never expected from myself,”

You raise an eyebrow, “Says the girl who literally used boys just to make other girls jealous,”

She smacks your shoulder before continuing, “The only thing I could think to do was…be horrible. When I finally realized who you were this year, I felt horrible thinking that you lost weight because of me.” She takes a deep breath, “I figured that if I couldn’t reverse what I’d done, I could at least try to make up for it.”

You place a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Regina, you weren’t why I lost weight. You may have contributed a little, but I was sick. I am sick.” You offer a comforting smile to Regina, “It was my choice to turn to unhealthy coping mechanisms, not yours.” Regina was shocked. If she had been in your place she would’ve held a grudge till the day she died.

You turn away from her suddenly, “So all of this was out of pity, basically?” Regina sputters, attempting to deny it before you fall back in laughter. “Asshole!” You attempt to jump to the other side of your bed before she pulls you back, straddling you and holding both your wrists above your head with one hand.

You stop laughing, eyes going wide when her other hand starts trailing down your body. Heat started creeping up your neck, your gaze locked onto her hand. She’s getting so close to where you need her, her hand going beneath your skirt. You whine as when grazes the apex of your thighs, before she pulls away completely.

“We need to leave soon.” She smirks. “No! What was that!” You get up, following her to the bathroom. “Payback. Go do your makeup, pretty girl.” She taps your cheek then closes the door in your face.

✮✮✮

You and Regina pull up to the gallery in her pink convertible. She shook her head in disgust when you suggested getting a cab. Walking hand in hand, you enter, perking up when you spot Janis. “Hey! I’m so glad you made it- Regina?” Janis approached, looking at you for answers. You scratch the back of your head, “I should’ve told you she was coming, but more importantly, Regina has something to say!” Regina turns to you, wide eyed and shaking her head before you push her towards Janis.

Janis looks at Regina expectantly, growing irritated. “I’m sorry, Janis. I really did value our friendship and it was stupid of me to ruin it for a boy. Also sorry for making you out to seem like an arsonist, and that one time I told everyone about the time you-”

“Alright, alright. Jeez.” Janis laughs. You run up to them, bringing them both into a, probably, uncomfortable hug. Baby steps.

You find Damien already seated, having saved seats for you and Janis. Before you could protest Regina taking your place, she pulls you into her lap. Janis and Damien look at each  other with raised eyebrows, making a mental note to ask you about it later.

You and Damien stand up, pulling Regina with you and cheering as they announce that Janis won first place. You raise the Lebanese flag as high as you could while Janis walks back to the group. “Uh, why do you have that?” You look down at your flag then back up at her, “You’re Lebanese aren’t you?” Damien pats your shoulder, “Bless your soul, baby.”

“I am a lesbian, not Lebanese.” Janis starts laughing, Regina and Damien following after her.

You groan, “I spent ages looking for this flag! How did I not know this?”

“I came out in 6th grade. Remember?”

“Oh. I guess I misheard you.” You scratch your head, realizing you misinterpreted the whole story between Regina and Janis.

You turn to Regina when you see her pulling out a Kälteen bar. “Why are you eating those?” Regina sighs, “These are all I’ve been eating, I need to lose like 3 pounds.” You raise an eyebrow and ignore Janis and Damien's hand gestures, “What? My mother made me eat those to gain weight.” You slap your hands against your mouth when you realize why Janis and Damien were trying to stop you. Regina crushes the bar in her hand, “What.” She says with a mouthful before spitting it out and stomping away.

Janis slaps the back of your head, “I didn’t mean to!” She rolls her eyes before dragging you and Damien out of the gallery, her artwork in hand. You were adjusting yourself on Damien's lap on his motor scooter, figuring that Regina had gone home already, while Janis took her spot standing in the back. Taking out your phone while Damien starts driving, going through peoples stories. You squint your eyes at a story someone posted of a house party, “Hey, you recognize this house?” You point the phone towards Damien and Janis.

 Janis clenches her jaw.

“That’s Cady’s house.”

✮✮✮

A/N: The middle finger thing is actually something I did once, or twice i think. I'm spoiling you guys w these chapters smhh. jk thank you for reading!

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Breakfast in Bed

pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

word count: 492

The smell of bacon and eggs invaded your senses, as you arose from your slumber. Opening your eyes to a dark room, you patted the bed beside you absentmindedly and realized that it was Harry cooking downstairs. After a minute or two, you got down from the bed and opened the curtains, the morning sunlight lighting up the room.

You put on your slippers and walked down the stairs, the sweet smell of fresh food making your stomach grumble. You two had worn each other out last night, and the thought of it made you blush.

You reached the bottom of the stairs and saw him cooking, his back turned on you, humming to a song you didn’t know.

You came up behind him and hugged him from behind, pressing a warm and soft kiss to his shoulder.

“Hey, why did you wake up?!” he asked as if he was betrayed.

“What? You were cooking and I could smell it, that’s what woke me up. I was hungry so I came downstairs.”

“But…I was supposed to bring you breakfast in bed!”

You sighed at his response.

“Okay? So give me now, I saved you the trouble of walking up the stairs with food”

“No! I wanted to take the trouble of bringing it up to you." he pouted, and you eyed him.

"So what now? You want me to get back to sleep so you can wake me up with food?"

"Yes. Thank you. You are intelligent and sexy." he swatted your bum, and turned back around to flip the eggs.

"I swear to god…" you trailed off, shaking your head at his childishness and walked up the stairs, to go back and do pretend to sleep so he can bring you the food.

You slumped back on the bed, pulling the comforter over you, and closing your eyes.

He came back a few minutes later, with the food served on a small table. He walked to the bed and kept it aside, gently kissing your forehead to wake you up.

“Morning, love” You opened your eyes, and he smiled wide, making you smile too.

You got up and sat back against the headboard. He picked up the food table and kept it on your lap.

“Harry, you didn’t have to do this! I could’ve eaten it downstairs!”

“Hey! I made you delicious food. C’mon, eat and tell me how good it is”

You shook your head and broke a piece using the fork, stuffing it in your mouth.

Your stomach was grumbling, so you ate some more bites, and he began to pout again.

“Tell me!”

“It’s good.” you mumbled through a mouth full of food.

“Good? Just good?”

“Yeah, you’re not a masterchef! Besides, I taught you how to make this”

“So? You taught me, now I performed. I deserve praise”

“Alright. It’s really delicious”

“Thank you.”

“You’re such a baby!”

“But, I’m your baby, aren’t I?”

divider by @firefly-graphics

any feedback is greatly appreciated! even a like matters a lot <3

taglist: @freedomfireflies (let me know if you want to be added!!)

[idiswhadidis]

-- spa night

bf jungwon x fem. reader

sypnosis: Jungwon agreed to have a spa night.

genre: fluff - warnings: a makeout session

a/n. i'm surprised by myself of how fast i wrote this, i think it took me about an hour a record when i tell ya. anyways i got to this idea when i, myself had a spa night lol, hope you enjoy (:

how could this escalate? you both just watched something on TV and now you‘re having out of nowhere a „spa night“.

boy knows he‘s a fool for you but he forgot that you got him wrapped around your finger that he actually agreed to this.

looking into the mirror trying not to laugh at himself smacking his arm,

„stop laughing would you, or the face mask will fall off“ 

„says the one who’s laughing in my face since 5 minutes straight“

him staring at his reflection seeing the unicorn headband not letting hair into his face and the face mask which represents a panda making you cackle again, trying to control yourself you take a deep breath

„…you look gorgeous, now lemme put these on your eyes“ you smile wiggling the two slices of cucumber in your hand, him grabbing both of your wrist to stop you

„you‘re not gonna put cucumbers on my eyes“

„yes i will“ you smile at him with the most innocent eyes his weak point

sighing in deafeat and letting go of your wrists having the green light to do whatever you wanna do to him

putting the two slices on his eyes wondering how they don‘t fall off? 

„and is it relaxing?“ 

„oh yeah, never felt anything more relaxing in my life“

„good cause now your lips will be next“ completely ignoring his sarcasm.

„the hell? don‘t tell me lip masks exist?“

hearing ripping of a package his question just got answered..

„close your mouth so i can put it on“

but not before leaving a small peck on his lips letting him grave for more as he try’s to follow your lips

putting quickly the lip mask on, bursting into laughter making him groan

„Jungwon i‘m sorry but this is too funny you should see yourself“

taking your phone you take a photo, not so good is you have the sound on letting him now you took a photo <3

him grabbing the cucumbers of his eyes glaring at you while you smile sheepishly at him taking few steps backwards 

looking at his own reflection real quick shaking his head trying to not to laugh as well pulling of the lip mask but still keeping the panda mask on?

„i think it‘s your time to do your so called „spa night“ 

shaking your head, janking the door handle down and dashing away 

hearing fast footsteps behind you making you walk faster around the couch, him on the other side staring at you like a predator

„it‘s only fair to let me do it now“

shaking your head „i‘m fine thank you“

narrowing his eyes at you and climbing over the couch too fast that you can‘t run away on time

catching you in his arms and throwing you onto the couch, legs on each side of your body your arms held by him completly trapped

looking at him got you giggling again making him smile when he suddenly starts,

„you know, i‘m so in love with you i would let you do anything with me as you can see“ 

making you melt, looking into his love-strucked eyes 

grabbing his neck bringing his face closer to yours whispering against his lips „i will always love you more“

crashing his lips on yours, hand on your waist going underneath your top gasping from his cold hand on your skin letting him stuck his tongue into your mouth.

catching your breaths after awhile, staring at him and taking the mask off reminding him why you‘re in this situation, him standing up letting him sit you up and throwing you over his shoulder,

„hey!“

„i‘m not gonna let this night go by until i got my revenge“ him patting your bum while walking into the bathroom to continue where you left off but now it was your turn to "suffer".

idiswhadisis on tumblr. do not plagiarise, repost, copy or translate any of my works.

[kitashousewife]

“no satoru! for the last time, no.”

“why not?” gojo whines, palms up from the other side of the kitchen island.

your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose and immediately try to calm down before dealing with your very worked up boyfriend.

“we are not going skinny dipping on campus! for the love of god, you just started teaching!” you huff out a tired laugh. “do you want to get fired?”

gojo opens his mouth to respond, but closes it soon after. you’re right, but he won’t admit that, not now.

“c’mon, nobody will be there after dark!” he pleads, damn near close to begging. he’s been asking for 3 days, and he’s not going to stop until you cave.

“you and i both know that doesn’t stop any students from leaving past curfew,” you remind him softly while you pour yourself a glass of water.

he thinks for a moment, twirling his glasses around by the arm.

“i guess that’s true,” he mumbles. “that was a few years ago though! don’t tell me that any ounce of fun left your body the second we left campus.”

you glare at him and he laughs. you know that it would be fun, sneaking around campus in the dark like giggling high schoolers once more. there is no way that the students know about the small lake anyway, they’ve only been there for a couple of days at this point.

you let out a sigh, and gojo knows he’s won.

“i’ll make it worth your while, trust me!” he waves you off with a smirk before waltzing into your shared room.

later that night, once the sun has just set, gojo warps the two of you onto campus. he does a once over of the halls to ensure the two of you won’t be followed, before walking with you towards the lake.

“i can’t believe i gave in again,” you look up towards the darkening sky as he snickers. “what are you going to say if you get caught? sorry, i know i just started teaching and need to be an example, but-“

“oh shut up,” he shakes his head and grabs your hand in his. the two of you walk for a few more moments before reaching your destination.

the water is completely still, almost glasslike in front of you. a couple birds sit on the dock, enjoying the cooler air together while the stars make their way into the sky. you feel comfortable, smiling slightly while you take in everything for a moment.

“you getting in or what?”

your mouth drops open as gojo appears in front of you, naked as the day he was born. clothes and glasses tossed by your feet in a pile and a wide smile playing at his lips.

“what, see somethin’ ya like? let’s get in!” gojo pats your bum before running towards the dock, laughing at the birds that scramble away before he leaps into the water with a splash.

you feel nervous all of a sudden. despite being with gojo for years, seeing him this way many times before, you feel nervous. thoughts of getting caught, costing him the job he started only days ago, just to do something reckless?

“it feels so good out here! you gotta get in, babe,” gojo waves at you, and you take a deep breath.

ignoring his whistles and faux cat-calls while you undress, you make quick work before shuffling towards the edge of the dock.

“want me to count to three?”

“im not 10, satoru,” you close your eyes for a second before leaping in, fully immersing yourself in the questionable behavior you’ve gotten yourself into tonight. you come to the surface with a gasp, and gojo looks at you with a joyful grin.

“i’m so glad i talked you into this,” he spins you around in the water for a moment. “isn’t this-“

the snap of a branch grabs your attention quickly, you and gojo both stiff as boards in the water. he frantically looks around, trying to see anything or anyone. your heart sinks.

just as gojo is about to get out of the water, a group of bunnies hop out of the bushes near the shore. gojo looks around once more before swimming back to you.

as soon as the two of you make eye contact, the laughing begins. both of you cracking up, laughing both in relief and at how ridiculous the entire thing is. gojo picks you up again, twirling you around before tossing you in the water. he smiles ear to ear and you giggle and splash around, just like teenagers again.

he will remember this forever, and will always talk you into all of his stupid ideas.

[butchreg]

daddy's boy ( ~ 1k words )

for a fic trade with @lottiesboy !! here ya go buddy i had a lot of fun doing this ! :33 i love daddy ! nat so much waaah. yellowjackets masterlist here , upcoming list here

summary : a morning with daddy ! nat. you wake up extra small but daddy is always happy to take care of his baby boy !

tags / warnings : sfw agere , babyre , boyre , daddy ! nat , he him tmasc nat , yellowjackets x reader , padded agere , fluff , little ! masc reader , changing scene ( not detailed ) , bottle feeding

The light in your room flicks on, followed by your daddy walking into your room, gently shaking you awake. You roll over, blinking open bleary eyes, whining a little. “Mornin’, little man,” Nat says, chucking your chin. You make an incoherent noise, rubbing your sleepy eyes. “Someone’s sleepy, huh.” He chuckles a bit. You nod, yawning without moving to get up. He yawns too which makes you giggle.

“See what you did, bubba? Making Daddy yawn.” He chuckles again and you giggle. “You ready to get up?” You babble in response, reaching your arms out toward him, making grabby hands. He scoops you up, placing you on his hip.“Oh, what’s that? Does Daddy have a little baby today? Just a tiny boy?”

You blush, burying your face in his neck. “Abab,” you reply. Nat bounces you on his hip. 

“Let’s get you changed then, okay buddy? We don’t want any accidents today.” You whine but otherwise don’t protest, too little and sleepy to feel embarrassed at his comment. “Here, Daddy’s gonna put you down for a minute,” he starts, causing you to whimper. “Shh, only for a minute while I go get some supplies.” You mewl as he sets you gently back on your bed. 

“Oh I know, buddy. Your life is so hard,” he jokes. “Here, I’ll set a timer. You wanna hold Daddy’s phone?” You nod; that sounds fair. He tousles your hair, already messy from sleep, before he steps out into the hallway to get the changing mat and one of your diapers. 

True to his word he comes back only a minute later, just as the timer begins to go off. A smile engulfs your face when you see him and you clap your hands. “Da!” you call. Nat gasps, pretending to be shocked to see you. 

“There’s my little guy!” You giggle, stimming by flapping your fists. He lays out the changing mat, patting it for you to come lay down. You try to stand up but wobble. “Oh silly Daddy, I should’ve known you’re too tiny to walk by yourself today.” You whine, clumsily plopping back down on the bed. He gently picks you up, carefully laying you on the mat. 

He picks up the diaper, and you babble and coo at the colorful animal designs on it. “Oh yeah? You like that?” He points at a blue lion. “What does he say, buddy?” 

“Raaawr!” You growl, trying to sound ferocious. He laughs. 

“That’s right! What a smart little guy.” You smile proudly at your daddy who smiles back. “Are you ready, bud?” You nod shyly, mewling as the cool air hits your lower area. Nat coos sympathetically, making quick work of getting you changed into the colorful diaper. When he finishes he boops your nose. 

“All done. Good boy,” he praises you. You squeal, wiggling your padded bum. He scoops you up, along with the changing mat, awkwardly folding it with his free hand. Leaving it atop your dresser, he turns his full attention back to you. “You hungry, kiddo?” You bob your fist up and down, signing “Yes” in sign language. He plants a kiss on your head. “Why don’t I make you a bottle and we can watch some ‘toons, huh? Does that sound good?” 

Excitedly you wriggle in his arms. “Da! Da!” 

“Okay buddy.” He carries you into the living room, flipping on the TV and setting you gently on the floor.

“Gababa,” you babble, pointing at the colorful characters. Nat nods like he understands what you’ve just said. He crouches down, blocking your view of the television making you whine. He looks into your eyes and you quiet down under his gaze. 

“Daddy’s gonna go to the kitchen and make your bottle. Can you be a big boy and watch by yourself for a few minutes?” You frown at first but ponder his question. “I promise I’ll be back reeeal soon with some nice warm milk.” He smiles at you which makes you smile in turn. “Is that okay?” 

“Mmmm,” you hum, thinking a few seconds more before nodding. 

He takes a few steps away, waiting until your focus is back on the TV before retreating into the kitchen. Clattering can be heard, and a muttered curse or two as he fumbles around in there for a minute. He begins whistling to himself, fixing your bottle and running it under warm water. Once he’s satisfied with the temperature he comes back into the living room where your eyes are glued to the screen. 

“There’s my big brave boy!” he greets you warmly and you babble a reply.

“Baba, baba!” You make grabby hands at your daddy, show momentarily forgotten as you reach for the bottle in his hand. He sets the bottle down on the couch, scooping you up and putting you in his lap. He cradles you in his arms, picking up the bottle and holding the nipple up to your mouth. You hungrily latch onto it, making a noise of contentment as you drink up your milk. 

“Someone’s hungry,” he comments, holding the bottle for you so you can focus on suckling. You drink quickly and he urges you to slow down, not wanting you to get a tummy ache. Soon enough you’re finished and he pats your full belly, taking the bottle and placing it on a small table next to the couch. 

“All done?” You burp in response, making him laugh. You nod and hum contentedly, rolling over so that you two are stomach to stomach. He scoots to lean against one arm of the couch so that you can see the TV without having to change positions. He rubs your back gently, turning his head to watch the show too. “We gonna have a good day, kiddo?” he asks you. You nod, returning to babbling to him about your cartoon.

[strzxrin]

Hellooo!!! I would like to share an Aidan thought with you!!! I like to think during the time Aidan is stalking you, to get to know your interests, he finds out what kind of book you want to read next!!! And when you go to the library to check that book out, someone else already has it!!! You'd just be bumped out and it would just gives Aidan another reason to go up and talk to you!! To ask you what's wrong!! And for you to find out he's the one that has the book!! But not to worry!! You can read it alongside him during your lunch breaks!!<3

i like me better when i'm with you !

synopsis. ┆  he just wanted to be closer to you! so what better way than to take the book you've been wanting to read?

tags/warnings. ┆  gn!reader, reader is written to be into classic lit, stalking behaviour from aidan, aidan is pathetic man™️

characters. ┆  aidan sandford ( frat . human character )

a/n. ┆  i see all the requests you've given me pookie, AND I SWEAR IM GETTING TO THEM. but i hope you do like them! sorry if this semi made sense, i wrote this in the middle of my lecture so.. yeah. i be doing anything but locking in.

masterlist ┆ character wiki

you were definitely bummed out when you saw the book that you had your eye on earlier this month. 

you sighed softly, shaking your head as you packed up your things to get ready to leave. there was nothing else that was interesting in this current selection, so you just have to wait until the person who borrowed the book returns it back. 

you don’t know when you’ll get it so you’ll just have to hope it’s soon. 

as you walked down the campus, going over to the cafeteria to find something to eat for dinner before cooping up in your dorm, you bumped into someone instead. 

you blinked, looking up and murmuring out a soft “m’sorry” but when you did see who it was, you almost wished that you didn’t bump into him. 

it wasn’t as if you hated aidan, it was more towards his entire fanbase that you dislike about. you’re sure he’s probably a nice guy. but his little group of followers just overstimulates you too much. 

“ah, don’t worry about it!” he gave you a grin and you realised that he was alone. he saw your downcasted face and he tilted his head “are you alright?”

you didn’t know why you felt compelled into telling him, but you just did it. “oh, one of the books that i was looking forward to reading has been borrowed. and i don’t know when they’ll return it” you murmured. 

you didn’t see it, but he had a small grin that he quickly hid and looked at you with sympathy instead. he gently patted your head which made you blink in confusion but you didn’t push him away either.

“what book was it?” he asked softly as you hummed “animal farm by george orwell” you say. you’ve been rather into reading classic literature lately, so you’ve heard some good things about george orwell’s writing.

“oh! i fear.. i was the one who borrowed the book” he says and you looked up at him in confusion. he gave you a sheepish laugh and scratched the back of his neck with a grin. 

“i’ve been into classic literature lately. and last time i read his 1984 work, and i enjoyed his writing. so i wanted to pick something up as well” he tells you and you looked at him with beaming eyes. 

he swore his heart fluttered even more when he saw the look in your eyes “would you like to read it with me during our lunch breaks?” he asks and you were about to say yes because you were swayed by the moment but you shook your head. “we have different classes, no?”

“then let’s exchange socials! at least then we can figure out a time for us to meet up to read together” he says as you hummed, taking a moment before finally agreeing.

“alright, here” you murmured, giving him your social handle to which he followed (he already knew it, he followed you on his burner account) and he smiled. “are you free now? we can grab dinner together, if you want to?”

you felt compelled. especially since he was looking at you with pathetic-men-eyes, and you just decided to go with it. “sure, why not” you gave him a smile and the two of you found a place to sit to grab dinner together.

he was most definitely happy, he just hopes that one day you’ll be able to fall in love with him too.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Omg coming home drunk and dealer Remus having to look after you even when you’re all over him and he’s surprised because you’re usually all shy and reserved! 🤭

“Remus, open the door,” your voice carries through the wood of the door and you hear a couple clicks and twists before it opens.

Remus is greeted with a very drunk you being held up by your friends. “Hi, dovey,” he reaches for your waist and you tip yourself forward into him.

“I had the best night,” you say and Remus looks to your friends.

“She’s had a bit of everything,” Remus nods.

“You good to get home?” He asks them, ready to offer your spare bedroom up to them.

Remus’ hands become more firm on your waist when you start twisting and wiggling in his hold- desperately trying to climb him.

“Yeah, Lily’s the designated driver. See you Lupin!”

The moment the door shuts, you’re deadweight in his hands.

“What did you girls do?” You shrug, reaching for his face. Your hands a cold and your manicured nails look sharp against his face but your hold is delicate.

“Kiss?” You pucker but Remus only presses his lips into your cheek. “Not like that,” you mumble, trying to pull his face closer to yours.

“Dove,” he pats your bum, steering you to the sofa with firm hands. “Sit down so I can get you something to drink, yeah?”

“No thanks, can I have a kiss? On the lips?” Remus shakes his head, and leans over to kiss you.

“There. Will you have some water now?” You nod, linking your fingers together and standing when he moves to walk away.

“Sit still, baby,” he laughs when you whine and link your fingers harder together. “Alright, you’re not gonna be pleased when I tell you of your love sickness in the morning.”

“I’m pleased right now,” you flirt. For a shy thing, Remus thinks, you really can put the moves on.

“I bet,” he sits you on the counter. “Are you hungry, dove?”

“Call me baby,” you lean your head on his shoulder, “Like it when you call me baby.”

Remus coos, “Are you hungry, baby?” You shake your head.

“Can I have orange juice instead of water?”

“You can’t, sorry,” Remus hears you mutter about how he’s so ‘mean for someone so pretty’ and stores it away in the list of things that he’s going to tease sober you about.

He holds the cup of water to your lips and watch as you guzzle it down. “Hey,” you say as he pulls the glass away and water dribbles down your chin and dress.

“Now I’ve got to undress,” Remus smiles.

“You always would’ve, not letting you sleep in your dress.”

“You just wanted to get me naked.” You hiccup through the words as Remus helps you down the counter.

“Don’t think I’d have made your dress wet with water for that, baby.” You giggle madly at his flirting and lead the way to the bedroom with more swing in your hips than necessary.

“You only act coy, Remus.”

“Oh sure I do,” he keeps his hands out to catch you if you misstep. “Do you want me to take off your make up or do you have that bit covered?”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Nightlife 21

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, touching, coercion, manipulation, violence. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Part of The Club AU

You don’t know what to wear. You don’t have anything too sexy besides the lingerie that Lee bought you and you haven’t washed that yet. It needs to be done by hand and you just haven’t had the chance. 

So you find a plain tank top and some underwear. You look at yourself in the mirror, the white top and polka dot panties not entirely sophisticated. Doubt tenses in your cheeks as you pose and try to look more grown up than you are.

How can he say you’re special? You don’t feel like it. 

You twist and contort, trying to make yourself attractive. Hip out, chest, bum... You give up and drop your arms straight, facing your reflection. You sigh but it erupts into a squeak as the door opens.  

You face Lee as he enters, patting his stomach. He licks his lips as he sees you and winks. He tilts his head and tuts. 

“No, sugar, didn’t I tell ya to get ready for me?” He tisks. 

“I’m sorry, I... didn’t have nothing else,” you peek down at your clothes. 

“Nah, that ain’t what I mean,” he growls, “you lookin’ all sorts of tasty in this.” He steps closer and touches the tank top as it gives a hint of your stomach, “no, what I meant was you should have... you know,” he trails down the front of your panties, “warmed up, blossom.” 

He presses two fingers against the fabric, pressing to the slit of your cunt so you gasp. Your eyes widen and you look up at him. He chuckles and curls his fingers as he delves them back. 

“No matter,” he retracts his touch and frames your hips instead, “I don’t mind do it myself.” 

He spins you as he sits, keeping you standing before him. You brace his shoulders as your legs shake, both nervous and excited at once. He squeezes you as he spreads his knees wide, planting one foot then the other. 

He drops a hand to his thigh and pats it. He bites his lip as he peers up at you and hums, “have a seat, sugar.” 

You flutter your lashes but he keeps you from turning. He shakes his head again and leads you to stand at his left knee. He uses his foot to kick yours apart inch by inch then guides you forward so your standing over his leg. He urges your down until your straddling his thigh. 

“Lee,” you eke out. 

“Just like that,” he keeps a hand on your hip, the other creeping up your stomach, “how’s that feel?” 

He pushes on your hip, rocking you. At first, you don’t know what he means, then you feel it. The pressure in your clit, the way it rubs against the layers of fabric. Your thighs clench around his and you moan. 

“I...” you wisp and look down, “I think it’s... good.” 

“You think?” He snickers as he gropes your chest, pinching your nipple until your insides pluck. You let out another garbled noise at the sensation. 

“Yes, sir, it’s... good,” your hand slips down to his chest to steady yourself. You can help but teethe at your lip. 

“Erm, look at you, kitten,” he purrs as his eyes flick up and down your body. Your stomach tenses and your fingertips dig into his shirt, “go on, make some noise for me.” 

You can’t hold back the drone that rises from your guts. The heat, the pressure, the friction nestled against your tender bud has you enthralled. He slips his hand up behind your head and pulls you closer, crushing his lips to your greedily as he keeps your hips tilting. 

You puff into his mouth and he nibbles on your lip. He walks his fingers down the back of your neck and around to the front, creeping along your collar bone to your shoulder and down your arm. He pulls your arm around his neck and you bring your other up to hug him, leaning harder onto his thigh. 

You mewl into his mouth as he feels along your shirt once more, sliding his hand under the fabric as he works your hip into him. The tank rumples above his wrist and your chest falls free. He kneads you with his thick hand, snarling as he smothers you. 

Your breath hitches as your hips buck faster and faster. You don't think as you chase the blooming release. A little more... 

You pull your head back, whining as your legs quake and your muscles ripple. You cum in tiny shallow squeaks, clinging to him as he chuckles and leads you through the peak. He slows you as your heart pumps and his thumb flicks around your nipple.  

"Ain't that good kitten," he grits, "look at you purring for me." 

He gently nudges you back. You put your feet flat and stand as he looks down at his thigh. You feel the wetness on your panties and see it on his pants. You cover your mouth in embarrassment.  

"Ha, look at that," he touches the slickness, rubbing it then puts his fingers to his lips and tastes it, "mm, sweet as sugar." 

You squeal and hide your face. 

"Now don't you be shy with me," he rebukes as he grabs your arm. "I ain't done." 

He stands so suddenly, you stumble back. He points at you, "ah ah." 

You stop and stare at him. He touches his lower back and grunts as he gets to his knees. You squirm as the thrumming begins to fade and he once more frames your hips with his hands, drawing you closer. 

He feels down the length of your leg as he brings you near and you teeter uncertainly. He pulls your leg up to hook your knee over his shoulder. He reaches for your hand and puts it on the back of his head and sets his eyes on the front of your panties. 

He brushes his fingers along the wet fabric and pushes between your folds. You gasp as he toys with you, further soaking the cotton. He searches along the edge and tugs them over to the crease of your leg. 

He bends forward as his fingers delve back to your entrance. He sits on his heels and bows and tilts his head to put his mouth to your cunt. The coolness of his tongue shocks you. 

You brace his head and hug him tighter to you. He hums and sends a thrill through to your chest. You tilt your hips hungrily and close your eyes, letting the electricity of his tending take over. 

You don't know why you were so worried. You never felt more wanted than when he's touching you. You never felt like you belong until you met him. 

[kumezyzo]

more streamer!reader with bf!sapnap cause i so desperately need it and i promised to get out the christmas cooking stream...

i started writing this like two weeks ago and im just now getting it out cause im so good at procrastinating 😁 but its also kinda short mb

anyway, enjoy! or dont :) m.list

bf!sapnap that doesnt really listen to you when you tell him hes not doing something right. he will just look at you and forget that you scolded him in the first place.

"nick, you realize you cant put a metal bowl in a microwave, right?"

"huh?" he looks over at you. your face holding a concerned expression as you look at the bowl in his hands. hes silently just thinking about how you called him nick instead of sapnap.

"wait, HOW did you say microwave?"

bf!sapnap that has to remind people at the beginning of the stream that it was your one year anniversary last month. and your one year of being official meeting in person the past week.

bsf!george who randomly starts playful arguements with you. or even just teases you when you and nick are standing near eachother.

"wow, are you two gonna get married now?"

"i dunno, george. are you and dream gonna fuck soon?" you ask pointedly without looking up from the cookie your helping nick cut out. "or profess your undying love to eachother?"

bf!sapnap who would get really angry or sad if your embroidered gingerbread character on his apron got dirty.

"dream!! you got flour on yn!!" he would scream running to the sink to try to wash it off. you would be standing across the room, looking down at yourself in confusion

"your such an idot, sapnap," dream would tell him, shaking his head and laughing.

"oh...i thought you actually meant on me-"

and

"who the fuck got frosting on yn!?" he would scream again, stomping over to the sink to wash it off.

"baby, its orange..." you tell him, glancing at george and dream from across the island, trying to hide your smile.

"and?"

"youre the only one using orange..."

bf!sapnap who feels bad when you start running around, trying to clean up the mess they made from decorating the cookies.

"yn, just leave it."

"no, its fine," you tell him with a smile. "i need a clean working space."

"but-"

"nick, let me clean."

dream kinda helps dw

bsf!dream who accidentally bumps into you, causing you to turn around and pretend to square up to him.

"come at me bro!" you say, looking up at him and standing in front of him.

he looks down at you and puffs out his chest and flexes his arms. you do the same and squint your eyes up at him.

"what? got nothin to say?!"

he then lightly pushes your shoulder and you dramatically stumble backwards. you place your hand on your 'wounded' shoulder and look at him in betrayal.

"h-how could you...?"

"you guys are so stupid-"

bf!sapnap who holds your waist when hes has to get past you. or just reaches out to touch your hip if there is space to walk by. or lightly pats your ass when he walks away from standing next to you.

"chat is saying sapnap slapped yn's bum," george says in disgust covered by an accusatory lilt.

"i dont know what theyre talking about," nick says, a smile slowly spreading on his lips.

"wait, chat, is that true?"

"i bet he did," dream comments, ammused.

"wait they're saying he did!"

bf!sapnap who says the gingerbread house he's making is what you two are gonna raise your kids in.

"peaches, this is our house."

"our? as in you and i?" you ask looking at the mess of cookies and frosting.

"and these are our kids..." he says concentrating on putting two m&ms on the front lawn of the sugary house.

"wait, kids-"

chat! who asks about why nick calls you peaches.

"yeah, thats an amazing questions, actually," george says, looking up at you two.

the two of you glance at eachother before looking back down at your gingerbread houses.

"wait, what was that look?" dream asks with a laugh.

"i dunno. nick, you tell them," you say trying to keep your face neutral. "im not the one that came up with it."

"wait, nick, dont you also call her mamas?"

"dream, shut the-"

bf!sapnap who hugs you from behind when he sees how sleep youre starting to get.

"are you tired, ma?" he whispers in your ear.

"no... im good," you say, smiling with drowsy eyes.

he kisses the side of your head and gives your hip a little tap before moving to stand with dream.

i actually kinda like this one. i mightve made reader too much like me so im sorry... yea idk i like it so... yeaa...... comment, like, reblog idfk -Nony