#Ashe drabble

[eternalslover]

Ashe NSFW alphabet

Warnings: Smut obvi

Does overwatch even have a fan base anymore?

A/N: I haven't written anything in so long and this is probably really bad and I'm so sorry but this is just for fun and really short, also I honestly think she is a bisexual so this goes for both man and woman, ALSO ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE! Not proofread, sorry if I got the character 100% wrong I tried my best

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

She would like to chill out with her s/o after. Have a nice coffee or drink with them, chat a little though she may not be very talkative, she isn't one to ditch afterwards. She sometimes lays there and let's her mind wander but will always make sure you're ok.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

I think she would really like her legs. She may not be the tallest but she has legs for days. On her s/o she would really like their eyes because they can be "a window to the soul". Also if you're a man she would like a nice beard or mustache, but not a soul patch.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

She cums the fastest when riding you/your strap or sitting on your face. She really gets lost in it just taking control and moving her hips back and forth, then her eyes will roll into the back of her head and she looks so angelic, and the sounds she makes, loud moans and whimpers.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She's a sucker for people with nice pecs and boobs. They're perfect cushioning. I think she'd also be down for a threesome. And help someone be a cuck. Yk like someone is watching while her and the s/o of the person who is watching, do it, if this makes sense.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I think with a male s/o she would definitely know what she's doing and know her way around. As for women she doesn't know that much but she isn't afraid to learn, shes no chicken.

Favorite position (this goes without saying)

She would definitely like doggy style, man and women. Whether her s/o is doing to to her, with his dick or her strap or she's doing it to them, she doesn't care.

Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I don't think she's a super serious person, usually. A joke or two always lighten the mood, and she tries to keep it that way. Although she knows when to switch off the joking.

Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think she would try to keep herself real groomed down there. She's a real lady, she isn't gonna walk into the ring with dirty gear if you get what I mean.

Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

She can be rough sometimes, get lost in it but she absolutely loves touching. Your and her hands grabbing at eachother everywhere. And I mean... who wouldn't want to touch her?

Jack off (masturbation)

She definitely does it but calms down with it when you two start dating. When she's away on missions she will send you videos of photos of her masturbating and her red lingerie. If you send her anything back she'll definitely be head over heels.

Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I don't think I have to mention the obvious but she definitely likes to be in control. I think she'd also be into wearing a sexy outfit. She'd also probably be into being called "ma'am". She's not always dominant though, I do think there are times where she can be a real brat and likes being thrown around and bossed around.

Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom, not to many distractions, it's nice and private. The bedroom has a nice romantic feeling to it that she likes, especially when she has control of the lights and music.

Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

After a fight she gets real worked up. Whether that's a mission or some guy at a bar. The thrill of the fight, the excitement she gets, the fear. Makes her feel alive.

No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I think if you weren't as passionate as her she would get turned off but in full honesty I don't think she gets turned off by much or wouldn't do anything big in particular. She's willing to try everything once.

Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) .

She likes to give more than receive, it's more exciting to her. She's also really good at it so that's a plus. But it doesn't matter that much to her either way, she just loves see the look of her s/os face when they cum because of her.

Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I think it really differs on the person but overall she likes fast and rough

Quickie (their opinion on quickies, how often, etc.)

She doesnt believe in quickies, she believes in passion and intimacy. If anything she's more into "longies". I mean she not 100% against them it probably depends how she feels in the moment but having quickies doesn't really do anything for her. She'd rather make it last and have the full experience.

Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

She takes risks most definitely. Risks are part of what make her, her. Though she isn't some risk, "devil may care" kinda person. She tries to limit them, but she's not afraid to take a leap of faith. And if it don't work... she knows how to handle the consequences.

Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

She usually has a lot of stamina, on a good night it's 3 hours. She can't always go all night like everyone now and then maybe she can. But most of the time it's 1 hour... maybe 2?

Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

She owns them, she uses them but rather use them on her partner than her partner do it to her.

Unfair (how much do they like to tease)

Oh does she love to tease! She likes to do it because it's fun. She likes to see the face of the person when she shows them just how unfair she can be. She finds it quite... entertaining

Volume (how loud are they, what sounds do they make, etc.)

She can be really damn loud, why wouldn't she be? She wants her s/o to know just how much she's enjoying it.

Wild card (a random headcanon about the character)

She would like to experiment with her looks more, maybe dye her hair or wear a wacky outfit just for the sake of it.

X-ray (what’s going on under those clothes)

Idk how to answer this? I mean I think she may have had a belly button piercing but took it out so now it's healed over and just a scar.

Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty damn high. She's never had a problem with getting it on with her partners if you get what I mean and she's never had a problem finishing it.

Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep after sex)

Not very long after unless you two had sex after one of her missions, then it will be hard for her to fall asleep. But other than that not very long, it's a very relieving feeling and she just wants to relax after. I also think she'd want to cuddle after but you'd have to initiate it.

[givemeonereason]

Goku squeezed Vegeta tightly against his chest. “I thought I lost you there best buddy!”

“If you think they can really kill the prince of all Saiyans, then you really are a clown, Kakarot.”

A chuckle reverberated through Goku’s chest raising the heat in Vegeta cheeks.

Goku has always beamed like sunlight around everyone, even on the verge of death. And especially around Vegeta. It is one of the many qualities about Kakarot that Vegeta refused to innately acknowledge. Kami forbid that he would ever show the effect that Goku has over him. He brushed a dirt covered knuckle across his cheekbone to settle his nerves.

“Can you let go of me now?” Vegeta pushed away from Goku with a tsk.

He turned, walking away, arms crossed. Only after Goku ran after him. “Gosh, I sure hope Chi-Chi has dinner ready. I sure am hungry!”

Goku turned towards the prince cheerfully. “You want to come over for dinner, Geta? I bet Chi-Chi is making a big hot pot with lots of fish, and daikon, and cabbage, and, and, and…Oh! And I hope she makes those little cakes I like so much with the strawberry whipped…”

Vegeta blinks in Kakarot’s direction as he prattles on. He’s not necessarily following what Goku is saying, but watching the range of expressions on his face.

Wide eyes, clown. Big smile, clown.

And then there is that goofy hair.

Only a low class warrior would sport such a crookedtuft.

The only warrior with class enough to be on par with a prince.

With the prince.

Does that also make him a clown?

No, just Kakarot.

“Come on buddy. We can train after dinner. I know you want to get stronger! If you want to get stronger than me.”

C L O W N.

Ruined it.

Vegeta barred his teeth at Goku.

“….Kakarot.”

“Vegeta?”

Vegeta pushed upward into the sky, turning before taking off at full speed. He narrowed his eyes at Goku.

Why does Goku always break him like this?

“I’ll be stronger than you before you know it, Kakarot.” He says with a wicked smile. “The prince of all Saiyans will always be the strongest.” He laughed hard through his chest pridefully. He took off in the opposite direction.

“Sure thing bestest buddy!”

Goku waved with his whole arm and a big toothy grin.

╘══════════════════════╛

© 2023 givemeonereason

This drabble was inspired from a drawing by the lovely @jorongbak who I greatly admire. Sending some love your way!!! I am constantly trying to keep up with the dragon ball shenanigans haha

Please go check out @jorongbak ‘s work <3

Also, Please don’t steal other people’s works! Respect creators!

Reblogs and likes appreciated :)

He's not blushing it's just dirt on his face

[httpdwaekki]

warm | b.c.

summary: after a long day, your channie knows exactly what you need to relax.

wc: 449

warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs DNI, fem!reader, nudity, cockwarming, clit play, ddlg (if u squint), alot of pet names.

a/n: i’m ngl i wrote this one morning when i was high i forgot about it until now LMAO. anyway after binnie month i’m gonna start writing for minho, hyunjin, seungmin n jeongin more because i feel like i’ve been neglecting them so look forward to that :3. remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

please consider donating to this fundraiser!

my library

(photos are not mine! credit to owners!)

“come here baby.” he whispers, arms open for you. you bite your lip to stop the tears of relief that threaten to spill.

you lay on top of him, sitting on his hips with both legs to the side. you wrap your arms around him, shoving your face in his neck, taking in his scent.

“can i help you relax sweetheart?” he knew what the pet name did to you.

you nodded, poking out your lip before he taps your hip. “up for me baby girl.” you whine before hesitantly letting go.

“good girl.” he praises as he helps you take your shorts and light pink panties off. he pushes his sweatpants down just enough to reveal his pretty cock, his tip slightly leaking.

“come here my sweetheart.” you cheeks warm as you already feel the hold of your headspace welcoming you in with open arms. once back in your original position, he wraps his arms around you once more, placing kisses all over your face.

“channie stop it.” you giggle as his attacks continue.

he pulls you down for a slow kiss, one hand on your cheek, the other on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles to your soft skin.

“you’re beautiful you know that.” he asks after pulling away, “my beautiful, gorgeous, smart girl.” he pulls you in for another kiss before you feel him move the hand that was on your thigh.

he brings his hand down to your pretty nub, giving it a few rubs pulling a whine from you.

“is my pretty baby ready?” he asks against your lips, causing you to nod. he grabs is cock, lining it up to your soaked entrance. once his tip was in your walls his hands grabbed your hips, easing you down the rest of the way.

your mouth fell open, your forehead resting against his. “daddy.” you moan, clutching onto him. “i’m here baby, don’t worry about a thing.” he places a kiss to your lips before your head falls to his shoulder, relaxing into him.

“there you go, my sleepy girl, just relax.” he whispers before placing a kiss on your temple. “here you go sweetheart.” he hands you your stuffie, pulling a blanket over the both of you.

“sleep sweetheart, you’ve had a long day.” you nod against his, sinking deeper and deeper into him.

“full” you mumble, feeling yourself drifting off. “you feel full baby?” you nod once again humming in agreement, adjusting one last time before melting further into him.

“goodnight, baby girl.” he mumbles into your head, placing a kiss there before he lays his head against yours.

“g’ni channie.” your words slurred with sleep and you drift off into dreamland.

and yes you do wake up to him fucking into you a few hours later

do not repost

[sharkenedfangs]

— ☆ “PRETTY BOY.”

— expect the worst when whitney has a stupidly, dumb puppy love crush on his upperclassman that happens to be you and even more so, when you predictably take notice of it. but, remember— he asked for it first, didn’t he? 3.5k w.

— warnings? yeah, mildly dub-con, handjob in broad fucking daylight, somewhat exhibitionism although no one gets to see the stupid, pretty boy squirm and upperclassman male reader who’s sort of.. a bitch. y’know the drill by now, plus a younger whitney (still an adult, no worries. I’m not into that sorta shit.)

Like a clueless moth instinctually drawn towards a burning flame, he’s no goddamn different than the clingy idiots who can’t seem to automatically take a hint when given so in their direction— y’know, the ones he’d audibly snicker and scoff at due to the sheer embarrassment, disgustingly obvious puppy love streaked along their flushed faces as they mindlessly follow the other’s every move. Innocently peer up in search of their crush’s approval like some sort of brain dead dog whose sole purpose is to joyfully please their master. Hell, it’s gross, and the blonde doesn’t make it any more difficult to showcase his wrongly placed dislike for it— yeah, by the repeated gagging noises spilling forth from his open maw.

“It’s nauseating to watch, stinks up the whole room with those big, puppy, doe eyes”— he’d openly say with an absent shrug of his broad shoulders, glinting, barely visible glimpse of the metallic barbell freshly pierced upon his curved tongue proving his judgemental statements to be otherwise.. fuckin’ hypocritical, no? ‘Cuz, isn’t that same piercing found in his mouth done due to one, single, stray comment you aimlessly made by chance?

Not like your liking of things plays a grand role in whatever he does, trouble he’s immediately roped into, fuck— no, definitely not! It’s a stupid, damn coincidence is what it is, nothing more and nothing less either. No need to uselessly pry any further in the meaning of his baseless actions. Just.. happened to have it done on the same consequential day you confidently expressed your idea that he’d get one because— y’a said it’d look good on him, didn’t you? And, look here, he fuckin’ did it like some cheap mutt. Obediently parted his rosy lips for your viewing pleasure to willingly prove to your pretty eyes that he truly went along with your absently made suggestion, for real. Gleefully hung upon your every important word like his life depended on it— god, it isn’t like that, okay?

An upperclassman he’s briefly looked up to is all you are, all you’ve ever been for that matter, and he’ll punch the shitty, fuckin’ lights out of any big mouthed idiot who dares to say so otherwise. Right in the guts for spouting out complete, nonsensical bullshit, alright?

Or is it time to reluctantly admit it with a bashful blush apparent upon his contorted features— accompanied by gritting teeth stubbornly grinding together in a futile refusal of his shoddy, unwanted sentiments burrowed deep within his stuttering heart? As if he’d ever would in your presence, which he possibly can’t help himself, to childishly imitate your gestures in the withering hopes that’d you scarcely notice his thinly veiled efforts, acts filled with meaning.

Well, well.. Whitney, the supposedly cold and untouchable bully here isn’t so unique nor different from those idiotic dumbasses he’d routinely poke fun at, huh? Time to face the embarrassingly evident reality set before him, whether his gaze dares to instinctively stray away or not from the unsettling truth— ah, good thing you’re here to seamlessly guide him on the right path, ain’t that right?

As for the so-called, morally ethical path he’s hopelessly talking about.. Perhaps, that’s a plain, ol’ lie he’ll repeatedly tell himself of so considering your shared reputations at hand. More likely than not, often referred to — as much as the nickname itself has the tip of his ears prickling scarlet, noisily yelling at the fuckers who cheekily name him that — your little, dumb puppy. Fuck, he’s not! The day he, himself, Whitney of all people, wordlessly bows down to the height of someone’s heel frustratingly grinding atop of his head, is the day one can loudly claim with unbridled conviction, that he’s officially lost his goddammit mind, that’s what.

Listen, you’re the one who faithfully promised and guaranteed your unwavering protection if he stuck to your sides like some fuzzy pet, so he did the obvious choice. Specially when met with the shitty conditions this rundown town, definitely shady for that matter, is. Rather be silently stamped as the ‘sly follower’ who went along with the smartest choice presented to ‘em— your offer, by the way — than some nobody seamlessly forgotten on the dirtied streets. Least, that’s what likely replays on and on in his mind like some cheap, broken record to dumbly convince his unmoving mind of what this annoyingly persistent feeling is deep within the pit of his quivering tummy. Annoying, ain’t it?

Speakin’ of tummy, you sure are touchy-feeling with him, aren’t ya? Not that he necessarily minds nor will outwardly admit the slightest shivers that comes to grace the entirety of his figure when met with the briefest grazes of your fingertips flush against his bare skin. Likes the physical contact intimately shared between you two? Fuck no— just keeping himself on your good side in case you were to suddenly discard him like you habitually do with your other.. nameless toys, which he doesn’t possess enough fucks to bother learning their names. As long as your flickering gaze doesn’t happen to stray too far from his, he’s actually, pretty content.

‘Course, it did progressively start off with the sorta things you’d absentmindedly do with your numerous friends. Brush of his golden strands glimmering against the gleaming sunlight— shit, even acted out like some cheesy rom-com at the way his face instantly heated up, glimpse of vulnerability you seem to so easily catch on with him and fuck, does he detests it— truly does like no other. Still, lets y’a carelessly stroke your fingers throughout the mess of a hairstyle the delinquent wears, even fucking.. tenderly pushed a single, stray strand of hair behind his burning ear. Shoulders instinctively drawn up in sheer defence at the tension residing within him because, really, how do y’a expect him to relax and ease up when it’s with you?

“What? What is it? Do I have shit in my hair or somethin’?” Oh yeah, nice goin’ on that fuckin’ stupid question of his, huh? Flush adorning the length of his face— god, even down towards his neck too— immediately deepening at the crude choice of words. Might casually speak so with anyone, but when it comes to you, he’s got this instinctual urge to not come off as some try-hard desperately trying to butter you up in hopes of your returned approval of him.

“Hm? It’s nothing, I just think you’d look cute if you grew out your hair a little bit. Don’t you think?” Ah, and there you go— with your surprising compliments spoken out of the blue like that.

“Cute?? Are you seriously tryna fuck with me right now?” Defensive mechanism or whatever to draw up that blank conclusion since this is just about the first time any sort of adjective resembling that of ‘adorable’ by the way, could’ve been made to plainly describe a rowdy, unrelenting boy such as Whitney.

“What? You don’t think so? I think you’re cute as shit, Ney-ney.” That fuckin’ nickname again, god. Quit it, will ya? And, don’t try to tentatively lean closer in his personal space when calmly making that stupid remark too! Your goddamn— ah, hot breath effortlessly heating up the shell of his ear, curled lips almost, insistently pressed against his cheek. “Real fucking cute, actually. Definitely cuter than the average boy that’s for sure— prettier too, but you’ve got too much of a stick up your ass to admit that, don’t you?”

At this point, you’re practically taunting him, and he would’ve unabashedly swung his fist if it weren’t for that said person being you. Grin cracking upon your lips at the doe, wide-eyed look he’s greeting you with, seemingly unable to utter so much as a word to that uncharacteristically depraved statement, or is that your idea of a damn compliment to another guy? Shit, that’s right! Both guys is what you two are— so, his cock hidden underneath the fabric of his ripped jeans, languish legs lazily stretched out along the creaking, wooden bench, shouldn’t be stirring up with peeked interest at the mind numbing prospect of endlessly being called ‘pretty’ by you. Nor profusely encouraging the alarming amount of translucent pre-cum dizzyingly forming at the swollen tip of his cock head, crudely staining the material sheer. Give the blonde a supportive head pat while you’re at it, too. Ah.. should be saying somethin’ right about now lest he wants to appear as some bashful fool.

“I don’t—“

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t swing that way, I know. I’m not hitting on you, I’m just telling the truth as it is. Got any idea how many guys would line up just to fuck your dirty mouth? Maybe your tits too, if they’re into that sorta stuff— shit, I think they’d go for the ass too, definitely. I could make a goddamn fortune just whoring out your pretty, slutty body to the old fucks at the pub, y’know that, Whit?” Endless chattering on and on, explicit details of how some grubby old men could be here, disgustingly groping his flesh instead. Yet, that lingering glimmer within your gaze, noticeably darkening in return at the mere idea of it as your thumb comes forth to idly tap at his blazing cheek.

“But, you know.. I don’t. I won’t. Not cuz’ I’m a nice guy or anything— hah, truthfully, I’m no better than them for wanting to ruin a pretty face like yours.” You’re.. god, he can’t keep up with whatever shit you’re nonchalantly spouting, gracing solely his ears to be the one to silently listen to this.. crap, can’t really say it— fluttering in his tensed stomach from your bold admission, depraved wants just as much as he does late at nights— wanting to fuck him too.

“Honestly, do you know why I don’t use your sorry fuckin’ ass, Whitney?”

If he’s meant to attentively keep up with your words by now, then his brain has happily shut off due to the dizzying amount of semi-insults, degration and somewhat praise shot in his way. Like he’d fucking know, shit!

“See, it’s cuz’ it’s real funny to watch you trotting ‘round my side like some dumb, fucking puppy begging for its owner’s attention. I give you just a bit of praise, and your doggy tail would start wagging if you even had one. You look so goddamn stupid that it’d hurt my conscience to sell you out like this. And, I don’t like it when other fucks touch what’s mine either. I’m not running some gracious charity, am I?” To be truthful, if you tirelessly keep up with that incessant spouting, he’s bound to boil over like some screeching, burning kettle considering.. the obscene amount of scorching heat riddled across his features currently, adorning his cheeks so stupidly — and prettily too, huh— crimson red for your unwavering gaze solely. Seems like you’re liking the rare show in front of you quite a bit, aren’t you?

Stunned would’ve been one of the few lacking words remaining in the thick, daunting dictionary to scarcely describe the absolutely idiotic expression he’s nicely sporting right about now.

“Shut up.. I’m not—“ Fuck, fuck, fuck!! And, how the simple concept of verbal speech dutifully fails the bully at a time like this. Great going there, fuckin’ dumbass! Visibly seething would’ve been the most reasonable reaction in face of this, but— but— fuck! Entirety of this crap is all too quick for his sluggish mind to steadily keep up with your unpredictable actions, pathetically keening with a drawled out curse— no, more like a high-pitched whine is what it truly sounds like, once your calloused palm gingerly strips him free from his relatively loose jeans in one fell swoop.

“What the fuck’re you doin’—?? Mmph, fuck.. don’t—“ Dumb question to be asking when the self-evident answer is plainly in front of him.

Weeping cock, flushed in the cooling, outside air, naturally springing forth out of its constricting confines to audibly slap against his bare rigid tummy. Aw, now ain’t that real pretty to witness? Timid, twitching cock profusely leaking out sticky pre to messily smear along the curve of the blonde’s stomach, which you promptly do the honours for him, unabashedly too.

Always been pretty confident in your audacity to joyfully serve people, haven’t you? By god, he’s half-hated ya for meddling with others private businesses to begin with, although his throbbing cock being so smoothly tended to can say otherwise, idly disagree with his withering logic. Shakily sighing, puffing out heated huffs of air as your so— fuck.. annoyingly warm and soft hand loosely tucks ‘round his fat cock, teasingly squeezes him down at the base. Meanly drawing out more pearly globs of his dribbling pre-cum with a resounding, wet squelch!, undeniable proof of his shared arousal at the newfound situation he’s unfortunately finding himself in.

‘Unfortunately’— one says, funny that you see right through that by the mocking nature of your barking laughter, sharply ringing within his ears.

“My, who’s the exact fucking pervert here, Whit? Y’seem pretty hard to me. Actually, you’re dripping wet down there, y’know that?” No fucking shit. Ready to single-handily cum from a single, measly stroke of your fist snugly wrapped around the veiny girth of his quivering length— fucking hell. Head instinctively thrown back to which you soon wistfully take advantage of, ‘course you would, wouldn’t you? Lazily pressing hot, heated kisses along the sharp edges of his jawline that soon has the same bully, known to be so very resistant, stifling wanton moans, firmly clasping a palm over his gaping mouth in a heedless effort to remain discreet as possible. Slithering, pink tongue laving and tracing over the heated shell of his ear, ushered snickering coupled by bouts of utter filth being so brazenly whispered towards him. And your canines— ah, are not helping at all either. Grazing the bobbing curve of his throat, delicately sucking a bruising mark upon the tanned skin to pridefully admire over later. “Nnh— no, fu— ah, uuckk! N-Not there, you bastard!!”

“Not here? What’s the matter, Ney-Ney? Can’t fucking speak properly when your pretty, pink cock is being stroked off like this?” Would’ve scornfully refuted you, barked out the meanest curses that would’ve had an elderly woman shockingly clutch her pearls if given the chance, but stealing a discreet glance down to humiliatingly witness how sticky and wet his tip has gotten, messily stained your palm in a string of creamy, white pre is not.. Possessing way too much pride to do so. “Y’see, you like this— hah, fuck— you like it when I actually take what I fucking want from you and ruin you down to this cute, little, slutty mess, yeah?”

“I-It’s not like that—“ Uncharacteristically meek protest on his part. Cat got his tongue, ‘s that it?

“No? Pretty boy. Use your words, will you?” Oh, fuuuuckkin’ god. Seeing sheer darkness as his eyes reflexively roll backwards to his skull from casually being called ‘pretty’ by your lulling voice.

Have any idea the way your hushed words dizzyingly affects his fuzzy brain? Renders him alarmingly stiff like a stoned statue, wobbling knees surely bound to buckle beneath the weight of your relentless taunting, all the while being boldly jerked off in broad, fucking daylight — hidden amongst the rustling bushes of the park, mind you — still, very much in an open space where one can be so easily seen by oncoming passerbys. And even then, the absolute control you possess over him, sneakily snaking your arm ‘round his middle, relishing in the little, heated gasps hurriedly rushed out of this dirty, fucking perverted bitch of a blonde’s mouth is too way goddamn much for him to precariously withstand another tortuously long second of this shit.

Yeah, one more minute? He’s fucking busting by then.

“What’s the matter? Can’t keep up? Gon’ shoot your filthy load soon, ‘s that it?” Mild disinterest lacing your very tone with a slight hint of, what’s that..? Actual anticipation? Hah, as if he can barely discern between the mind buzzing layer of reality set upon him when coupled by your soft— so fucking warm, shit.. hand relentlessly fisting him dry, milking every thick droplet steadily trickling forth. Uncaring for the accumulated mess below you both as his hips instinctually roll forward against the rewarding palm of your curled fist, sickeningly jolts at a noticeably harsh press of your padded thumb atop his oozing tip. “Well, then.. Go ahead, I’m not stopping you, am I?”

“Cmon, pretty. Paint my hand all sticky and nice for me, yeah?”

Predictably so, as the uttered rumours had notably confirmed— how downright desperate Whitney’s always apparently been for you to the damn point that he’s automatically cumming on command like a dog patiently withholding for its owner’s words and oh, was it fucking worth the extensive wait. Stifled whimper weakly slipping out, fingers immediately latching onto the comforting feel of your forearm lazily slung around his quivering figure for proper support. No use in making a fool out of himself by clumsily buckling down to his slacked knees— not that he hasn’t already, though too late to be thinking about it twice, huh? Thick, sticky strings of his hot seed directly shot out of his pulsing cock and into the air to, as expected, pervertedly dirty your open hand in a mess of his load which is kinda.. hot, no? Fuckin’ get ahold of yourself, shit! Minus the rest having uncontrollably splattered downwards onto the ground, pitifully traced in a puddled mess of droplets.

And somehow, the barely discernible hint of a relieved breath tumbling from between his parted lips. The natural conclusion that this is it, oncoming closure bound to take its place yet still— still, damn it; Always managed to keep the dirtied blonde on the edge of his toes, haven’t you?

So, truly, it shouldn’t have came off as an unexpected shock then, how you so brazenly mumble a stuttered curse beneath your puffed sighs at the melting sight. “Ah, fuck.” Swiftly freeing your fat— well, admittedly hefty cock for his following eyes to shamelessly gawk at in turn because, y’know.. fuck, he won’t outright voice it, but the sinful glimmer in his wide gaze says it all. Innate itch, unadulterated need— god, to merely sling down to his knees, sloppily drool all over your tasty-looking cock and coat it all shiny and wet with his spit. Although, too busy admiring the rare glimpse of your contorted features strained with pure, unrestrained concentration to bother paying much attention to the repeated, distinct fapping! noises of your cock being so hurriedly stroked raw, as if in a hurry, almost.

Furrowed brows deepening, lashes fluttering in their wake as your rosy lips that he’s known time and time again to be nonchalantly formed into a grin— now, so prettily stained crimson by the harsh press of your teeth against your puffy, bottom lip. “Don’t— ugh, fucking look at me like that.” You audibly groan out in the mix of a huffed chuckle. Slightest flush delicately dusting your cheeks a pink hue, so damn pretty too. “Hah, it makes things kinda awkward, y’know?” Ah, takes less than a stretched minute for his brain to acutely process what’s hit him before given the proper chance.

Something hot— and sticky too, actually it’s pretty evident what it should’ve been if he wasn’t so goddamn brain dead within this bleary moment. Splattering amongst the already present mess you’ve both collectively made of yourself, thick ropes of sweet cum landing right upon his rumpled uniform you’ve taken a gleeful joy of permanently ruining. Judging by the cackling laughter soon drawing forth outta ya thanks to the sheer, dizzying sight of the cum-stained mess he’s forced to pitifully endure for the time being.

Look what you’ve done, god— even if you manage to be one step ahead of him, as always, in such a predicament as the delinquent merely receives a thrown jacket straight in the face. ��Sorry for ruining your nice shirt of yours, I couldn’t really help myself when you looked so dumb like that. Take it as an apology, alright?” Exhaling out shakily in the chilling air suddenly alarmingly cold without your warm weight shifted against his own, too deliriously fucked out of his mind to muster up a rightful remark to your cheaply made one. Dumb, little ol’ puppy is what he is to you, no?

And perhaps then, it’s the idiotic absurdity of your actions, swiftly turning away like the encounter itself hadn’t even taken place right at this very spot. Footsteps progressively fading amongst the rhythmic crunches of fallen leaves fluttering down from the withering trees, gaze tentatively flicking downwards to where your stupidly soft, discarded jacket rests within his arms. Meaningless gesture is what it should’ve been notably perceived as, though that doesn’t really help the gradual thump! of his swaying heart noisily beating against his chest nonetheless.

That’s not— oh.

Oh.

“..Fuck.”

Yeah, being wholly swallowed by the ground beneath his feet doesn’t sound so bad now, does it?

[crimsonbubble]

Hear me out… san tied up completely helpless 🤭🤭 make that hard dom submit 🤭🤭

Helplessly Yours

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, overstimulation, viberator *not proofread, just pure horny

[i'm simply insane]

He’s trying so desperately to hold onto his authority but the way your pretty cunt wraps around his cock is making it hard.

San can’t do anything but sit helplessly against the headboard of your shared bed. His chest is heaving with every breath and his abdomen tenses every time you clench around him. “Baby, untie-!” There’s a pathetic growl laced in his voice.

You don’t do anything but pout at him, pressing the vibrator harder against your throbbing clit. San can feel the residual waves of the vibration accompanied by the sweet heat of your cunt squeezing around him. His eye flits between your dripping cunt and your face as it contorts in pure bliss.

San bucks his hips harshly, nearly whining when you pull off of him. His authority is wavering but he’s willing to forgo it if it means that he can get your sweet cunt back on him. You stare at San with a sinister smile, moving to sit on his thighs. You brought the vibrator back down, pressing it right against his leaking cock head.

San whimpered pathetically, rocking his hips against the small toy. You pressed the toys button twice, laughing at how San almost lurches off the bed. It was only fair to tease his sweet spots just like he does with you. The small toy was making his entire body throb with need, a pitiful cry leaking off his tongue.

Not even a full minute after you heightened the toy's settings and San lost control of himself. He squirmed under you as he came all over your hands. You continued to hold the toy there, grinning down at him as he caught onto your ploy. As you circled the toy around his tip, San let his authority slip away; letting himself drown in the pleasure you so graciously provided to him. He babbles nonsense, hiccuping with the increase of pleasure ringing in his ears.

“Fuck, baby please-” His hands tug at his restraints, rocking his hips uselessly against your hands. You hummed softly, pressing the head of the toy against his tip. You stroked him languidly, picking up the pace bit by bit. San thrashed, his hips jerking wildly. His vision went white as he closed his eyes, coating your hands in another layer of white.

[escapenightmare]

soft n pouty bf nagi <3

"you forgot something," nagi mumbles from behind you.

"what?" you ask him as he wraps his arms around your waist from the back, resting his chin on your shoulder. he had stopped you at the door a second before you were about to leave, telling you that you had forgotten something. "what is it?"

he holds out a book in front of your face, "book."

"oh shit," you quickly stuff it in your bag, escaping from his lingering touch. "thanks sei."

"you forgot something else too."

his drowsy voice makes you stop again and let go of the doorknob, groaning. "what now?"

"kiss."

"bro." you deadpan, turning around to face him and his little unconscious pout. you quickly press your lips to his, "okay?"

"that wasn't meaningful," he narrows his eyes at you, looking sleepy even though he'd been awake for an hour already. his hair was all messed up, more than it usually was, sticking out in all ends and looking all soft and fluffy, just like him.

"sei," you groan again and kiss him once more, making it last longer than the previous one. "happy?"

"no," he lightly huffs, his hand reaching out and grabbing yours with a more defined pout.

you narrow your eyes at him the way he did at you earlier. "why?"

"’don't want you to leave," he said softly, pulling you to him with your hand and wrapping his arms around you once again.

"but i have to go, sei," you tell him, lifting your hand to stroke his hair.

"why?" you could literally picture him stomping his feet like a child. "return the book tomorrow?" he suggests.

"the due date's today," your hand is still stroking his hair and he leans into your touch, face relaxing and eyes closing.

when he speaks again it's almost in a whisper, "just for a little while?"

you think about it. if you stayed for even just five more minutes, you'd be smothered with affection and attention, pulled onto the couch for cuddles, probably get so caught up in the moment that you'd forget you had to leave in the first place.

or, you could leave right now and come home to a poutier and more affection-seeking, drunk on not having your love seishiro.

"...?" even his silence looks like he's asking you a question.

"what?" you reluctantly ask.

"don't go," he says, voice drowsy and as soft as could be. "just for a little. ’swear." a pause before he adds, "please."

your heart almost shatters at how broken he sounded, and you let him know your answer by wrapping your arms around him in a hug. "okay. but only for a little."

he eagerly nods, tugging you to the couch and sitting down before pulling you on top of him, hugging you close to his chest. you could hear his steady heartbeat as he looked down at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

"so," you start, maintaining eye contact. "what's wrong?"

his long legs tangle with yours and he seems to hesitate before he answers, voice as gentle as it was before. "just missed you."

"hm?" you brush a few locks of his hair away from his forehead and look down at him. "we were together the whole day yesterday."

"i know," he replies, hand on your back and thumb tracing random shapes that you could feel through your shirt.

a circle.. a six... an eight.. a square...

nagi lets out a soft and content exhale. "i like it when it's like this." his eyes sparkle a little and his lips curl up in a small smile. "when it's just the two of us."

you snuggle closer to him, letting him lean his forehead on your shoulder as he hugged you tighter. "me too, sei."

unsurprisingly, you fall asleep, wrapped up in nagi's arms and warm and comfortable hoodie.

only for a little while my ass, you thought when you woke up again.

he's setting a mug containing your favorite drink down on the coffee table in front of you.

your eyes immediately wander to the window and you sigh, it was dark outside.

the library was closed now.

"here," your boyfriend hands you a book, sitting down next to you and cuddling up to you.

your eyebrows furrow, it was a book in your reading list.

"i went and returned the book for you," nagi says. "and got that."

you brighten up with a grin, "thanks, sei." your hand moves up to pat his head a few times and he pouted when you put your hand down.

there's no words exchanged as he curls up to you, and you wonder how someone could be as cute as he was in this moment; hair messed up more than ever, eyes sleepy and half closed again, drowning in an oversized hoodie and lips forming a tiny 'o' shape because of.... well, you had no idea.

you bring your free hand up to his cheek and smile. his hand comes up to hold yours as he nuzzles into your palm, eyes affectionate and loving, pout no longer visible on his face.

"i love you," he mumbles, leaning down and slowly kissing the corner of your lips. "a lot."

you gently smile, "i love you too."

nagi pokes the book in your hand, "read to me?"

"always."

[alrightberries]

sukuna starts yelling at you in old japanese when he's mad

[tearueful]

Play With Fire ( Homelander x Reader)

18+ for language, female (plus size♥) reader | You walk into an elevator with Homelander...💋 [AO3 Link] Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, AO3 Link

You can only stare at Ashley’s cold dismissal. Not Ashley Barrett, of course. You’re not high up enough to get personally fired by the CEO. Her assistant is the one doing it, also Ashley. 

There were too many fucking Ashleys in this office.

Your head is buzzing and you can’t exactly focus on the words that spill out of her mouth. She has such a pleasant smile plastered on her lips. A fake, corporate smile as she tells you that as of today? You no longer work at Vought International. A job you had scraped and clawed for. Survived an unpaid internship in fucking New York City for, moonlighting as a waitress in a diner where patrons had sticky hands even for one such as you.

You stare at her, having no idea what words her placid smile makes. Something about turning your badge in at the front desk on your way out. That they’ve packed everything up at your desk already and it will show up to your house in two to four business days. An easier transition, she says. How kind.

Neatly packaging your existence away and shipping it off in the post as if it didn’t fucking matter. You blink and you’re already stalking out of the office. The dismissal had been clear. They had saved it for when you normally would be packing up for the day. Less drama. Always better to fire someone on a Friday afternoon. Not many witnesses. At least you can slink out with some scraps of your dignity. Before you realize it, you’re fast walking through the hallway to the elevator lobby. All your mind can focus on is getting in that elevator and escaping this fucked up place. That is your one goal as your insides churn with bitter anger and your brain buzzes.

Your rage is impotent, with no outlet. What could you even do? Nothing against Vought. Not with their airtight security. You knew how Vought paid everyone and anyone off to make undesirables vanish. How they mopped up the ‘accidents’ of their precious supe products. How your firing was another one of those casualties, dismissed at a whim of the Seven. You knew specifically who. That star-spangled blonde bastard. One typo led to one tantrum from the supe and you had to suffer for it.

Rage pushes your feet to move a little quicker as you spot the open elevator doors. Someone must have just exited, you see the retreating forms of a handful of people down the opposite end of the hall. Perfect, except those doors are closing and you’re too impatient to wait in the lobby a moment longer.

At the sight of the closing elevator doors, your feet pick up their pace. You can’t stay in this building a moment long, not in this hallway with the chance of spotting anyone you know who may recognize the set of your face as something amiss.. Some of them know you well enough to know that would mean something’s wrong, or they knew the bad news before you. That gives you the motivation to snap a hand out to stop those closing doors, praying it’s empty so you can take a breath alone. You need it.You deserve it. It’s the least the universe can do for you at this moment. The universe is not kind today.

The doors stop at the presence of your hand while you slip through the opening. Your regret is almost instantaneous as you step into the re-opening doors because there stood Homelander.

Fucking Homelander in his stupid suit, looking all the world like Uncle Sam shat out the perfect Boyscout. Except, you know far better. There was a monster in that human suit.

He looks ever the caged predator within the confines of the enclosed metal space, wholly uninterested in you. There’s only the briefest of glances your way before his attention is back on the elevator’s LED number display. Oh, but you hate him. Stuffed up supe, high on his own importance.

You’d seen him about the office, from a distance. A wolf among doting sheep, bleating for his attention. How did anyone dare to get close when he flashed those canines? You should flee, but the elevator doors click behind you with a finality. No, fuck it. Fuck him. You don’t care. All you care about is getting out of this shit hole and this elevator ride will be your last here. One way or another. The white hot rage is back to roiling in your gut and you feel as if you’d choke on it.

Homelander’s cold blue gaze flickers over you once more as you stew, taking you all in within an instant. Your badge and your name. Another useless Vought employee, a wriggling worm at his feet. The Hero Management Department by the logo on your badge, but he’s never noticed you. No wonder. You’re too short. Someone who could get lost in a crowd. His lips turn up in a cruel sneer. Fat, too. A pudgy, little grub. At least you’re dressed well. You need to be if you work here. Almost demure in that dress that must have cost half your pathetic paycheck. He wants to be disgusted by you, but you meet his eyes. People rarely did that. There’s fire burning in those wide eyes. A defiance he’s not used to seeing often. Especially not from something as breakable as you. It gives Homelander pause. He’s puzzled. That sort of volatile hatred was usually reserved for dear William, but you? It was almost comical seeing such a delicate thing like you sparking with it. You looked like a little firecracker about to go off and Homelander wonders what sorts of sparks you’d show.

Your expression was utterly, almost eerily calm yet he could feel the rage rolling off of you, it was a palpable taste on his tongue. An almost bitter tang that made Homelander reflexively lick his lips. That gets your attention. Previously, you’d let your eyes dart around the elevator in your unrest. Now your eyes fixate on the flick of Homelander’s tongue while the wheels within your brain begin to whirl. What is the stupidest thing you could do on your last day at Vought? Something reckless and impulsive. Suicidal even.

He watches you with interest now that you’re daring to meet his gaze, scrutinizing this little mortal confined in the elevator with him with anger steaming off your body. Normally, Vought employees fawned over him while reeking of fear. They cowered and all but tried to tongue his taint in their need to appease him and soothe Homelander’s volatile moods. Yet here you were, looking as much like a caged animal within the confines of the elevator as he felt most of the time. 

Homelander senses the shift in you, from anger to something else. He can’t pinpoint it, not yet. Not with how the adrenaline pumps through your veins as you fix your eyes on his face, a heady perfume if there ever was one. It’s a little like prey backed into a corner, finally deciding fight over flight. Homelander doesn’t fear you or any possible outburst you could throw his way. How could he? He’s a god and you’re an ant. Still, he’s curious as to what you’ll do. Homelander can see the tension in your body, how your muscles coil before a pounce.

You weren’t quick, by any means. Homelander could have deflected you with his pinky finger, but the determination in your eyes kept him still. What were you even planning to do to him, of all people? Seeing you unleashing your anger on him would amuse the supe. Give him a valid reason to crush your fragile skull in his fist with a satisfying wet crunch. Yet, you surprised him. All that anger and vitriol boiling over shifted into something else entirely, but it still burns.  It burns so much that you need to let it out. Which you do, by pressing your lips against Homelander’s. It’s pure impulse and oh so reckless. He’s killed people for lesser slights but you don’t care. Not in that moment. You want this, maybe even need it. Need to vent out all your frustration on the man who caused all this in the first place.

So you dig your nails into the leather fabric of Homelander’s suit, having to get up on your toes to press your lips against his own. 

They’re surprisingly soft, Homelander’s lips. You hadn’t expected it. A contrast to the lack of give against his body because leaning into Homelander is like leaning into a brick wall. Unmovable. The only give is from his lips and you suspect that’s because you took the supe by surprise.

The audacity of this little bug!

Homelander’s eyes are wide, shocked even at your brazen act. Staring down at this impertinent little human daring to touch him.There’s a desperation in your act, in how your face is still twisted up in rage and confusion but softening as you stubbornly keep your lips moving against his own.

Still so curious. 

He lets you kiss him, even goes as far to settle into the kiss himself. He can’t help it. Softness was a rare thing for him to feel and you really are oh so soft against him. Pliable and willing now that you’ve settled into properly kissing him. You’re not bad at this either, knowing exactly what sort of coaxing pressure to give him while teasing Homelander into giving back more.

So he does.

Homelander hooks you in the steel grip of one hand, fingers digging into your waist and he finds you yielding. Soft and giving as your lips. He should have expected that given your size, but he finds that he likes it. He can dig his fingers in a little deeper with no fear of snapping ribs with the slightest of pressure.

Homelander is kissing you back. Fucking Homelander! You half expected to get thrown across the elevator shaft for your action, but he was almost holding you gently. Almost. This close you can feel the restrained power of him that all but hums through the supe’s body. It should frighten you, but it’s thrilling having a monster yield so readily to you of all people.

You need something to ground yourself because this can't be real! You grab for Homelander's hair, sliding your fingers through it. Idly, you muse at the softness. It wasn't gelled and hard to the touch as you expected. Leave-in conditioner, that must be it. The thought makes you smile into the kiss, tightening your hold on Homelander's hair with a playful tug to coax his mouth closer.

You don’t expect the needy moan Homelander releases against your lips at the gentle tug. Would have never expected such a sound from a man like him. You greedily swallow it up, using it to your advantage to slide your tongue over his lips. They part under the pressure and then you’re kissing Homelander deeper. This is far from an innocent, impulsive act now. He’s meeting your fire, consumed by the flames as much as you are. More so because now Homelander seems intent on devouring you as he fits his lips to yours, bruising them while his tongue slides slick over your own within your mouth. He growls. Homelander fucking growls into the kiss and you feel that tremor down to your toes, arousal a white hot flash through your system. Thus it really can’t be helped when you mold your curves into the hard lines of his body, fingernails scraping at Homelander’s scalp while you try to taste every corner of his mouth. His free hand even comes up to take an ample handful of your ass as he pulls you flush against him properly, and is that- Holy fuck.

The chime of the elevator hitting the ground floor snaps you both out of the moment. You jerk apart and even in his surprise, Homelander’s grip is loose enough for you to step away safely. You stare up at him a beat, taking in Homelander’s flushed features and how he pants.

You did that. You did that to the most powerful supe of the Seven, possibly the most powerful supe in the world. Smug satisfaction settles on your shoulders for a moment.

You can see the rage building in his eyes, disgust twisting up Homelander’s features and there’s even the glaring threat of red sparking in his gaze. Holy shit. Your heart squeezes as the smugness shifts to the instinct to survive. It’s time to flee or die.

Homelander sneers at you and you know he’s about to say something scathing to put you in your place before he obliterates you. Instead of cowering, you flash him a thousand watt smile. The sort you’ve employed on dates with hapless men to get them giving dopey grins right back to you. It works well enough.

He blinks, the red glare vanishing from his eyes. People in this tower never smile at Homelander like that. Another surprise. You exit stage left before he recovers, almost running into someone on your way out of the elevator. It’s Ashley. CEO Ashley this time, with tablet in hand.

Her gaze flicks up from the screen as she gives a little start before suspicion tinges her features. “Weren’t you fired?” She whispers the words under her breath, brushing past you before stiffening up at the sight of the supe still within the elevator. “Homelander! There you are!” She chirps out with faux cheerfulness and a dead smile. “I’ve got fantastic news on your latest numbers!” That gives you enough time to slip away, with Ashley crowding up to Homelander eagerly to stroke his ego so he’s kept calm for another day and no one dies. You certainly didn’t die. Personally, you think the supe’s mind will be occupied by other things today. You turn your badge in at security’s front desk with a self satisfied smirk.

For his part, Homelander silently steps out of the elevator with eyes fixed on your retreating frame. He doesn’t register Ashley’s yammering as she tries to tell him the good news about a ten point boost. No, Homelander’s mind is too busy contemplating what he will do to you. Little bugs like you can’t get away with taunting gods.

A wide, shark-like grin spreads Homelander's lips now that he has revenge on his mind. He snaps his attention to Ashley, voice sharp as Homelander lifts a finger in her face for silence “Ashley. That woman. Give me her name, now.”

[ashtxrie]

i got you (jake)

PAIR. high school! bf! jake x gn! reader GENRE. hurt/comfort, jake is an academic weapon WORD COUNT. 0.6k WARNINGS. math, anxiety, ap season, academics in general NOTES. ap season is making me lose my mind in every way possible but if jake tutored i bet i would get a 5 IN WHICH: with all hope of an academic comeback gone, jake swears to personally help you clutch up your gradebook, no matter what.

the calculus test stares up at you, the numbers you had written the week before blending into incessant scribbles that pound at your head and sting at your eyes. red marks plague your work and the crimson ink slashes at the harsh white, making the numerals bleed. you flip the exam over, quickly rolling it up into a scroll and stuffing it into your bag.

a 68 percent. you had gotten a 68 on the test that you had calculated and count on to change your grade for the better. you had failed. 

biting your lip, you walk out of the nearly empty classroom, your heart sinking into your gut.  

everything was so much.

from studying for the AP exams coming up in less than two months to frantically memorizing all the polyatomic ion formulas for chemistry-- you were spent. you had thought you had done fine, you had thought that you had this one in the bag.  

obviously not. 

the door to the cafeteria approaches to your left and you walk towards it, feeling sharp jabs in your abdomen from the anxiety. 

“please let it be almost empty,” you whisper, pushing the door open and walking through the clusters of students.

at your usual table, your boyfriend jake sits with his computer, pencil in hand. probably doing the physics bonus problems, for fun— under normal circumstances, you would’ve laughed at him. he sees you in the corner of his peripheral and smiles.  

“hey,” jake scoots to the left of the bench and offers you the seat. his smile falters a bit when he sees your face, your eyes glassy and red. 

“hey,” you mutter, your voice constricted. you were having trouble keeping the tears in and you feared that you would burst at any given moment. you keep your head down and try to avoid his gaze.

jake stares at you, his brown eyes focusing on your bent head and trembling bottom lip.  “hey,” he says again, his voice soothing and soft.  “what’s the matter?”

you had no appetite, but you found yourself walking past the table, toward the lunch line. jake trailed behind you. cautiously, as if you’d run away at any moment. 

his hand grabs onto yours and he pulls on your fingertips lightly.  “[name],” he pushes, his hand warm to the touch.

you shake your head and turn back to face him, your eyes beginning to water. “i– i,” you stammer, your voice shaking and cracking as you struggled to remain calm, “i’m having a really rough day.” your words trigger something inside of yourself and a tear slides it’s way down your face, trickling down your cheek and sliding off your chin onto your shoes. 

you walk towards jake who meets you halfway, his arms wrapping around you tightly. you rest your head in the crook of his neck and let the tears fall from your eyes. your body wracks up and down, unable to control itself. 

jake’s hand moves up and down the small of your back.  “it’s going to be okay,” he says in your ear.

“i got a sixty eight in calc,” you manage, your voice coming out in teary whispers. “it’s so bad... i tried so hard for this. i basically failed.”

jake shakes his head. “no. no [name].” he takes his hand and moves a strand of hair behind your ears. “you are not a failure. tell you what, i’ll help you with math from now on, and we are going to get you a 100 on the next test. sound good?”

you sniff and nod, your head resting on his shoulder. “thank you.”

jake nods and smiles, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “anytime.”

[phosphorescentdreaming]

for your drabble idea: Jean and Jeremy's first hug initiated by Jean (for whatever reason)

Jean wasn’t one for conspiracy theories. There were things in the world that simply defied explanation, no matter how much the human mind tried to rationalize what it experienced. Jean didn’t believe in aliens. He didn’t believe that there was a ghost lurking on the ground floor of Hancock Memorial Museum. He didn’t believe in God, or astrology, or that Shawn once saw a sasquatch in the forests of Washington on a camping trip.

What Jean did believe, without a doubt in his mind, was that the recruiters for USC intentionally sought out the most saccharine and physically affectionate Exy players from across the nation to create the antithesis of EAU. It was literary in its juxtaposition, something crafted in a fable to be his own, personal crucible. 

The insidious nature of his teammates’ repeated gestures of kindness and goodwill crept up on Jean. It stalked him like a predator only to catch him at the moment when his guard was down. 

In his own defense, it had been a long day: practice, an exam, a presentation, and another practice had left Jean feeling not quite himself. When Cat had suggested a ride, he was quick to agree. He sat on the edge of the couch to pull on his boots, and, as he stood, he tugged his leather jacket over his arms and shoulders. While zipping it shut, he turned to Jeremy, announcing, “Cat told me to say we will be back in time for dinner. She asks that you heat the oven to 375-fahrenheit at six-thirty. Before you ask, yes, we will be safe and obey the speed limits.”

As he rattled off the information, his body seemed to anticipate the embrace that Jeremy always gave him whenever they parted ways. It had become something Jean accepted with reluctance, but he was unaware that his own mind had been so corrupted. Yet, he stepped forward to wrap his arms around Jeremy.

He realized his mistake as soon as it happened. He stiffened at the same moment that Jeremy hugged him back with a bit of force, so clearly overjoyed that Jean had been the one to initiate the contact. Jean quickly pulled back, but it did nothing to wipe the sunshiney, blinding smile from Jeremy’s face.

“You hugged me!”

“I did not mean to,” Jean informed him, trying to shoot him down before Jeremy had the chance to run wild over it.

“But you did!” Jeremy only grinned wider.

“I will hear no more of this. You’re delusional.” Jean turned his back on Jeremy and headed for the door. As he retreated, it was clear that he’d left Jeremy completely undeterred. 

“Have fun!” his captain called out from the living room.

“Do not tell me what to do,” Jean bristled before closing the front door.

Drabble requests are OPEN

[vendetta-if]

What if Ash, from the alternate universe (where MC died), had met them in the same way as the alternate Victor did? And if MC and original Ash are a couple?

I very much hope that I have written this clearly, for it is not my language🙃

Unfortunately, it would just make the Ash from the AU where MC died become more depressed. Similar to the Viktor scenario, they would see what could have been.

Seeing MC and the Vendetta AU Ash getting together… It made them realize that they could’ve had a chance to be with the person they love and care the most, they could’ve been happy, they could’ve had everything they could’ve wished for.

But no… That killer took all of that away that night ten years ago.

I like to picture the AU Ash pops up and meets MC, and MC just thought that they’re their Ash. Imagine AU Ash’s surprise upon meeting a grown-up MC and not only that, MC greeting them with a peck on the lips and a hug. It feels like a dream, but this grown-up MC in front of them looks different from the one they conjure up in their head, but yet, undeniably MC. They know MC like the back of their own hand.

They barely understand what MC is talking to them about; most of the names they spoke of are not familiar to them, but still, they keep up the pretence, nodding and smiling. And then, MC hugs them again before walking off to do something.

They have half the heart to reach out and stop them… and what? What would they even say to this version of MC? So, they stay back, sticking to the shadows and make themself as inconspicuous as possible so other people who might know them won’t talk to them.

They can’t help but tail MC the whole day. And then, of course, they see their alternate self meet with MC. They look so happy, with a wide grin on their face, cheeks ruddy, probably because of MC.

Is it even possible to be envious of your own self? Because that’s what they’re feeling right now. But also, they are happy for them. At least their alternate self seems to be capable enough to protect MC and they look to be so in love with each other.

Their heart twinges in their chest as they look at the couple from afar. It’s painful, of course, but they redirect that pain into anger at the person who took this from them.

A couple of hours after their alternate self once again left MC to do something, you finally gather enough courage to approach them again. MC looks surprised.

“Ash! What’s wrong?” MC asks, confused.

“N—Nothing,” Ash answers, glancing up to meet MC’s eyes. “I… I just want to tell you something.”

“You could’ve told me over the phone, you know? No need to come all the way here,” they smile, and your heart skips a beat. It’s still the same smile it was a decade ago.

“I guess this is important enough to say in person,” Ash mumbles shyly.

“Okay, what is it?”

Ash steps closer and leans in. “MC… I love you… I always have and I always will,” they whisper, mere inches from MC’s face.

Before MC can answer, they lean in and press a kiss on their lips. It feels like you’re floating right now. But then, what comes up must come down, and pulling away, you’re once again reminded of what you can’t have.

“And… I also want to say I’m sorry…” Ash says quietly.

“For what?” MC asks in confusion, eyes filled with concern.

“Everything, I guess,” they sigh. They’ve always thought that if only they were there that night, maybe they could’ve helped protect MC—or at least die in their place.

“Ash…? Are you okay? You’re kind of scaring me right now,” they frown, bringing their hand to your forehead as if to check your temperature.

It makes you smile sadly. “I’m not and I don’t know if I will ever be,” you answer honestly before shaking your head. “You know what? Forget everything I said, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” You rub the back of your neck. “Goodbye, MC… I’ll see you again in my dreams.”

Ash turns around and quickly runs away, not looking back no matter how much their heart wants to stay. They hear MC calling out to them, but they don’t stop. This is not where they belong and they have no right to be ruining whatever their alternate self and MC are having here.

They don’t know where they’re going, but they keep running. They just want to get away from here as far as possible.

Please, God or whoever’s listening… Just throw them back to the shitty universe they know before they do something they’ll regret.

[pedrospatch]

unconditional l a safe haven drabble

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: After your first night together in the barn, Joel tells you he’s worried about the possibility of you getting pregnant; You tell him that he doesn’t have anything to worry about and it leads to a heartfelt conversation—and realization.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. talk of infertility, mention of pregnancy loss, reader admits Luke makes her feel insecure about her condition, hurt, comfort, soft Joel, dash of fluff sprinkled in at the end.

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: this drabble centers around a sensitive subject, so please be sure to read all of the tags! i know back in chapter five, the subject of reader not being able to have kids was touched on but i still want to make sure I give a good, proper warning. as someone who struggles with reproductive health (PCOS girlie here) i know i can get down about things of this nature so again please proceed with caution if this is a subject that might be hard for you to read about.

This takes place between chapters six and seven.

You lean forward against the wooden, paddock fence with your folded arms resting gently on top of it. 

Joel stands behind you, his chest pressed into your back—his arms encircled you, comfortably caging you between the fence and his body with both his hands planted firmly on the wood on either side of you. His chin rests on top of your head, and every so often you would feel him press a soft kiss into your hair or on the delicate spot on your neck, right behind your ear.

He’d been quiet tonight—a bit too quiet.

Something is off.

You can feel it in your bones.

About twenty four hours ago, the both of you had taken the leap and slept together for the first time. Part of you couldn’t help but begin to spiral a little bit as you began to wonder if Joel had any regrets about what you two had done.

You certainly hoped that wasn’t the case

Because you sure as hell didn’t regret it.

“Joel,” you say his name tentatively.

You’re met with a questioning hum. “Hm?”

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” you state, physically cringing at just how painfully obvious the anxious edge in your tone had been. “Everything alright?”

Joel sighs, his warm breath tickling your ear. He moves one of his hands and places it on your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Sorry, my sweet girl. I just—my mind’s a bit preoccupied, that’s all it is.”

“About what?”

He hesitates, but then replies, “‘Bout last night.”

Your heart sinks deep into the pit of your stomach.

“You regret it, don’t you?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Wait, what?” Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and he takes you by your shoulders. He shakes his head furiously. “No. That ain’t it. That ain’t it at all, peach. ‘Course I don’t regret it—are you crazy?”

You frown at him. “Then what is it, Joel?”

Once again, he hesitates. His hands fall away from your shoulders and he takes a step or two backwards, his gaze unable to meet yours. “The thing is, we were so caught up in the heat of the moment that—well neither of us even thought ‘bout protection,” he’d mumbled the last part of his sentence so quietly it had barely been audible. Even in the darkness, the redness burning his face and neck over the nature of the conversation was evident. “We just went for it without even thinkin’ ‘bout protection and I’ll be honest, baby. S’got me a bit worried, y’know?”

You raise an eyebrow at him.

Jackson is fortunate to have an abundance of a lot of things—condoms aren’t one of them.

“It’s okay, Joel,” you assure him after a minute or two of silence. “I’m clean. Luke is the only person I have ever been with besides you, and he’s been so tired from working so much over the last couple of months that he hardly even touches me—”

“That ain’t what I’m worried ‘bout, darlin’.”

You stare at him with a puzzled look.

Then, a split second later, it sinks in.

“You’re worried about getting me pregnant,” you realize, slowly. 

It’s Joel’s turn to seem confused.

“‘Course I’m worried. I finished inside of you last night—wait just a minute, ain’t you worried ‘bout it?”

Your lips part in slight surprise.

Ellie knows about your condition, but Joel doesn’t.

Well, that girl certainly knows how to keep a secret.

“I’m not worried, actually,” you tell him. “Because I can’t get pregnant. It’s not possible.”

He breathes out in relief. “You’re on birth control.”

You toss him an amused glance. “Yeah, you can find bottles of birth control pills in the commune’s market right next to the condom aisle.”

Joel glares at you. “That supposed to be funny?”

Your small smile fades and you look down, your eyes fixing themselves on the dirt. “Actually, there is something you should probably know about me. I, um, I can’t—” You pause just long enough to let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t have children, Joel.”

Although you can’t see him, you feel him staring at you. You can  feel the way his eyes had gone wide, the way his mouth fell open in surprise. 

“There’s a reason that me and Luke never had any kids over the course of our marriage. And it’s hard to admit it, but that reason is me.” Mustering a bit of courage, you finally bring your eyes up off of the ground and look at Joel. “We tried for a really long time to have children. I did get pregnant once, but then I lost it. That was a couple of years ago. I was never able to get pregnant again, so I think it’s fair for us to assume that I’m the problem.”

Joel frowns. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“You said that you’re the problem.”

“But I am—”

“That doesn’t make you a problem,” he says as he takes a step towards you. He grabs both of your hands, holding them firmly in his own. “It doesn’t make you a problem, peach. You not bein’ able to have children doesn’t mean there’s anythin’ wrong with you, alright? So don’t fuckin’ say it like that. I ain’t gonna let you.”

You can’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well my husband certainly thinks otherwise.”

Anger flashes across Joel’s features. “He say somethin’ to you ‘bout it?”

“He’ll throw it right in my face whenever we fight,” you mumble to him in admission, feeling a batch of warm tears sting at your eyes. More than being saddened by your inability to conceive, you feel so damn humiliated. Over the years, Luke had all but drilled it into your brain that there must have been something wrong with you if you couldn’t bear his child—what if Joel thought the same? What if he’d start to think something was wrong with you now that he knew the truth? “I’ve accepted that I won’t ever be a mother, Joel. As much as it used to hurt me, I have done my very best to make peace with it because there’s nothing else I can do. But Luke? He can’t do the same. He always wanted a family and I couldn’t give him one.”

“Darlin’—”

“He always makes me feel like me not being able to have a baby makes me less of a woman.” A hot, stubborn tear slips down the side of your face. “And if I’m being honest, sometimes I can’t help but to think maybe I am less of a woman for it.”

Joel squeezes your hands. “Now you listen to me, m’gonna need you to stop that right now,” he all but demands. His voice is tough and firm, but somehow still gentle at the same time. “You don’t say that ever again, you understand me? That couldn’t be any fuckin’ further from the truth.”

“But—”

“Baby. Hey.” Joel drops one of your hands from his. He lifts his hand up towards your face and he hooks an index finger underneath your chin—his eyes meet yours as he delicately tilts your head up towards his. Simultaneously, he leans down and the tip of his nose brushes yours. “There’s no fuckin’ but here, darlin’. You are the most amazin’ woman that I’ve ever met in my whole, entire life. If Luke is too much of a fuckin’ idiot to see how perfect you are, that’s his fuckin’ problem. The way I see it, you’re too much woman for him and he doesn’t deserve somebody like you.”

Your free hand flies to your mouth, muffling a sob.

Joel Miller loves you.

He hasn’t said it yet, but you know that he does. 

And not only does Joel love you, but his love, it’s unconditional.

It’s unconditional, it’s pure, and it’s real.

You’ve never known a feeling like this. Never in your life did you think you would even have the chance to know a feeling like this.

Not until Joel had come along.

Joel gingerly wipes at your face with the back of his hand. “I didn’t mean to make you cry darlin’—”

“It’s okay. I just—I didn’t know something like this was possible.” you release a small, tearful laugh.

“Somethin’ like what?” he asks, bringing his lips close to yours. He had known what you’d meant to say, but he needed to hear you say it out loud. He knew slapping a label on what the two of you had wouldn’t make a difference because regardless, it’s solid. He has never been so sure of someone or something in his life. Still, Joel would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to hear you say it and simply confirm what he already knew. “Somethin’ like what, sweet girl?”

You shiver at the way his mouth hovers about a centimeter or two over yours, so close but so far away from where you need it to be. Placing your hands on his chest, you peer up at him through the thickness of your eyelashes and say shyly, “I didn’t know a relationship like this was possible.”

An inexplicable warmth radiates throughout every inch of Joel’s body at the word.

Relationship.

“You make me happy, Joel. So incredibly, stupidly happy,” you confess to him. “You make me feel wanted, you make me feel beautiful—”

He cuts you off, pressing his mouth to yours softly. 

After a brief moment, he pulls back slightly and murmurs against your lips, “C’mon, let’s head on over to the barn so I can spend the next couple of hours really makin’ you feel beautiful.”

[httpdwaekki]

skinship | s.c

summary: you thought changbin hated you, but that all changed one day when you showed on his doorstep, moments away from an anxiety attack.

wc: 1.8k

warnings: descriptions of an anxiety attack

a/n: happy binnie month! i'm so happy to be doing this not only for one of my favorite boy but with one of my favorite people @straykeedz ! please don't forget to check out bee and her half of binnie month! i hope you enjoy! remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

(p.s. if u get the reference ily <3)

my library | bee's vers. | binnie month

please consider donating to this fundraiser!

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

you didn’t think changbin hated you per say, however you did notice his hesitancy towards you, so that definitely didn’t make you think he liked you either.

you noticed he’d keep his distance when you would hang out with the boys and forget about skinship, he avoided you like the plague. you were a very touchy person, similar to felix, you tended to cling to your friends. so you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt your feelings even a little bit, especially because of how he clings to your other friends.

you brushed it off though, you know not everyone was going to like you but it stung a bit coming from changbin. truth be told you had a lil crush on him when you first met him but you had given up a while ago.

this changes one day however, you found yourself outside of the 3racha+hyune dorm, seconds away from an anxiety attack. you don’t remember how you made it to the building but you knock regardless hoping anyone but changbin would open the door.

luck was not on your side as the rapper opens the door, coming face to face with your panicked expression. “h-hi-“ quickly wiping your tears, attempting to plaster a small smile on your face. “sorry- is chan home?” you were fiddling with the hem of your shirt, attempting to calm yourself long enough to get to your best friend.

“no he’s at the studio- are you okay?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. “yeah! sorry to bother you, i’ll just go to the studio, sorry again!” you say quickly, turning around to make a quick exit.

“hey wait, are you okay?” he steps out, grabbing your wrist, stopping you.

you pause, attempting to collect yourself, “yeah, i just need to find chan.” you go to leave again, his grip tightens slightly. “please let me go.” you whisper, a lump forming in your throat, as you focus on the concrete below your shoes.

“y/n, what’s wrong?” he starts panicking, never had he seen you so distraught. you were usually a ray of sunshine, kind-hearted and smiley, but this- this sent a shock to his core and he knows he can’t let you leave.

he moves in front of you, going to grab your other arm when your head whips up as his hand makes contact with your skin. your eyes are wide and full of panic, unshed tears line them as the panic took over your body.

your reaction has him dropping your wrists immediately. “i’m sorry- i’m sorry, i just want to help.” his voice soft, as if he were speaking to a scared animal.

“can i help you? please, i don’t want you driving like this, it’s not safe.” he explains gently, holding out his hand, trying not to let his panic show. “no- it’s okay, i’m sorry to bother you.” you plaster a fake smile on your face as you stumble backwards, changbin catching you before you could fall. he wraps his arms around your middle before pulling your back to him.

“i’m sorry, i’m just gonna go.” you attempt to free yourself from his arms, feeling the anxiety building in your chest, weighing down on you with each passing second.

“y/n.” his voice stern as he tightens his hold, keeping you in your place. you freeze, locking eyes with the floor, refusing to look at him.

“please,” he begs softly, “let me help you.”

your facade breaks. your knees weaken as sobs wreck your body, changbin tightens his grip, pulling you closer to him. once you regain your footing, he circles around you pulling you into him once more.

you become inconsolable as your arms wrap tightly around him, shoving your face into his neck. “i’m sorry-” he cuts you off with a gentle shush. “don’t apologize. you’re okay.” he rubs soothing strokes on your back as you calm down. 

once your breathing was semi-normal he pulls away, almost missing the pain that flashes in your eyes. almost. “come on, let’s get you inside.” he grabs your hand, carefully pulling you into the home.

he leads you to the couch, “sit.” you didn’t know what came over you but as he pulled away your gripped on his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

your eyes wide, gasping softly, “i’m sorry!” quickly releasing his hand. “oh my god, i’m so sorry, i don’t know why i did that.” you suddenly realize the reality of the situation, it washes over you like a wave of cold water. you get up and make your way to the door. “i-i’m so sorry changbin-” you feel your chest tighten, the grips of your anxiety tighten with each passing second.

all you could focus on was getting out of here as quick as possible. but changbin wasn’t letting that happen.

he panics and all he can think about is calming you down, so he did the one thing he can think of. he grabs your wrist once again, turning you to him placing his lips on yours. you freeze before melting into him, placing your hand on his hip, him placing his free hand to your cheek.

once he felt you relax he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. both of you taking a moment to catch your breath.

“why did you do that?” you whispered, still not moving. “uh, i read somewhere that if you hold your breath, you could stop a panic attack.” he pauses, taking a breath. “so when i kissed you, you held your breath.” you nod, pulling away slightly, still processing the fact that he just kissed you.

“oh, that’s really smart.” he nods with a shy smile. you quickly realize you’re still holding on to him, pulling away quickly, “oh!” you backed away slightly. “sorry-” you clear your throat, “thank you,” you make a circle motion between the two of you, “for that.” you smile shyly.

“uh yeah, anytime.” your cheeks warm as a light pink brushes his. you both stand there for a bit before you speak. “can i ask you something?” you ask suddenly, causing him to look to you.

“yeah anything.” he says, prompting you to continue. you hesitate, “do i make you uncomfortable?” you ask quietly, fiddling with your shirt once more. you glance towards him, catching the confusion on his face.

“no not at all,” he furrows his brows, “why would you think that?” he wants to move towards you but he hesitates. 

“i’ve just noticed, you just always seem,” you pause, trying to find the right words, “i guess, closed off? like you’re really open with everyone else but with me you always seem to avoid me a bit.” you can see him processing the information but the lack of response was making you panic a bit.

“well! i guess not avoid but like kinda closed off? which would make sense because you’ve known everyone a lot longer than me but you just always hug everyone and then kinda just avoid me, which is fine! totally okay! i just-” he cuts you off with a kiss.

while your rambling was super cute, he couldn’t watch the panic again. his hands on your cheeks once more, he waits for you to relax into him before he pulls away.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers out of breath, “you’re just so cute when you ramble.” you let out a breath as you smile. you place your hands on his wrists, keeping his hands on your skin, basking in the closeness of each other.

a few moments of silence pass before he moves to kiss your forehead, bringing you into him. he wraps his arms around you before he speaks, “you don’t make me uncomfortable, and i certainly wasn’t avoiding you on purpose.” he pauses as you wrap your arms around him.

“i’m so sorry i made you feel that way, i just didn’t know how to approach you.” you tighten your arms around him as he speaks. “i now see i had nothing to worry about huh?” you giggle, shaking your head before pulling away.

“i don’t know if you could tell but i like you, i have for a while but i thought i made you uncomfortable so i kept my distance.” you say looking into his eyes, his coming up to rest on your soft cheek once more.

“not at all, i’m sorry i made you feel this way.” he says, eyes sorrowful. you give him a shy smile, “it’s okay, i’m glad i know why now.” you place a quick peck to his lips, as if it was a seal of confirmation.

he gives you one in return but that quickly became many more… all over your face. you squeal as he continues his attacks, “bin! okay okay, mercy mercy!” he giggles stopping his targeted attacks before quickly picking you up, pulling a noise of surprise from you.

you quickly wrap your arms around him, “where are you taking me?” you giggle as he walks through the dorm, taking you along for the ride. “i’m taking my girlfriend to my room to cuddle because she was having a rough day.” he states proudly, planting a big kiss to your kiss as he enters his room.

“your girlfriend huh? not even gonna ask me?” you tease as he lays you on his bed. “i figured the two passionate kisses and the other kiss attack was enough to solidify that.” he shrugs, looking down at you.

you take a moment to ‘think��. “yeah that’s pretty fair.” you nod, giving him a cheeky smile. he gives you a big kiss before deciding to lay on top of you. “oof!” you giggle as he settles his weight on you.

you look down to find his boba eyes staring back at you, big grin plastered on his face. “move up more, what are you doing all the way down there?” you give him a teasing smile, as he realizes what you meant.

“yah! you’re not allowed to tease me any more.” he whines as he moves up, closer to you. “oh no?” you wrap your arms around him and he lays down once more. “says who?” he nuzzles his head into your neck before relaxing. “says me.” you can’t see his face but you know he’s pouting regardless.

“okay, i’m sorry bub.” you giggle placing a kiss to his hair. what you don’t see is the light blush that dusts his soft cheeks at the pet name. another moment of silence passes, “i’m glad you answered the door.” you say softly. 

he lifts his head to look at you, small smile on his face. “me too.” he places one more kiss to your lips before melting back into you where you both fell asleep, smile gracing both of your lips.

this doesn’t last long before hyunjin and han both wake you up with their surprised screams when they find you two.

[silverhallow]

A Little drabble for @benedictscorner based on her Headcanon from Twitter:

Snapped

“No seriously watch…” Colin smirked to his eldest brother who was looking incredulously between Colin and Benedict.

Anthony rolled his eyes but turned his concentration to Benedict who was sketching his two Nephews sitting on the rug in their mothers drawing room.

“Eloise was telling me that Sophie…”

*crack*

Benedict cursed himself silently, as hearing the name of his sisters new ladies maid, the woman who completely consumed his thoughts, his dreams, his every being, caused his hands to tighten in an effort to control his other bodily urges and it was the 8th time this week he’d snapped the charcoal he was using. At this rate the man in the shop was going to think him an amature.

“Huh…” Anthony said his brow raised “i see what you mean” he said gesturing to Colin with his tea cup.

“I told you”

“told him what?” Benedict asked his brain finally tuning into their conversation

“That whenever Sophie’s name is mentioned you seem to snap your charcoal, or drop your drink” Colin said with a knowing smirk

“That’s not true” Benedict lied as he turned his face to hide the blush he knew was forming, and cursing that he could feel the heat spreading to his ears.

“I actually believe it might be” Anthony said “Kate told me you spilt your brandy down you last evening when the maid walked passed…”

“And Penelope told me that Eloise has seen you snapping many a charcoal this last week…” Colin smirked

Benedict hated how astute his sisters in law were, how nosy their own sisters were. “Coincidences” he lied again as he coughed and decided to reach for his tea.

But as he went to take a sip, there was a knock on the door and as it opened Sophie’s dark blonde curls appeared around the door and Benedict instantly dropped his hot tea all over his lap and let out a curse.

“Oh, I am so sorry I didn’t mean to startle you… Lady Bridgerton and Mrs Bridgerton sent me to see if Edmund and Thomas wished to join them for biscuits” Sophie said rushing over to assist.

Benedict very quickly brushed her off, he didn’t need her hands on him, or near him as he knew he’d end up frustrated and hard and his brothers were already laughing, Colin had nearly fallen off his chair in an effort to keep his hysterics quiet.

“I am fine” Benedict croaked, “I…”

Anthony finally decided to take pity on his brother “boys go with Miss Beckett. Amma and Mama will be waiting with fresh biscuits”

Both young boys took Sophie’s hand and once she was out of the room with the boys Anthony turned on his brother “she’s our sister's ladies maid Benedict… learn to control it. I’d hate to have to let her go because you can’t keep it in your breeches and you will be the one to explain to Eloise and hyacinth why she’s gone…”

Benedict just groaned. He really did need to learn to control this, not only for his sanity but for his art… it was costing him a fortune in new charcoals… but right now…

He needed new breeches.

[crimsonbubble]

let’s chat abt pussy drunk seonghwa

Tipsy Hearts

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, oral, overstimulation, breeding kink, creampies *not proofread, just pure horny

[I keep thinking of that one clip of Seonghwa on Jessi’s showterview 🧍]

I just know that he’s a closet pervert. No one would suspect that the sweet, kind, and caring Seonghwa that they see is the same Seonghwa that needs to fuck you with his tongue.

He’s messy with it too. His spit mixes with your arousal as he licks up your slit and sucks on your clit. Overstimulation to the max because he doesn’t stop after making you ucm on his tongue. He pushes you through it because he knows you’ll be good and take everything he gives you.

His love for overstim goes hand in hand with his breeding kink. He’ll overstim himself just as much as he did to you simply so he has the pleasure of seeing his cum leak out of you little by little every time he pulls out.

After his third orgasm he starts whimpering.

[escapenightmare]

sick bf bakugou, cursing, lowkey a crackfic n word vomit, written at 4am.

bakugou was extremely stubborn.

when you officially started your relationship, you found out that it was a really annoying trait he had, one that sometimes had your hands itching to aggressively shake him by the shoulders until he shut the fuck up and did what you asked him to.

bakugou was stubborn as hell even when he was painfully sick. a blanket wrapped around him and over his messy and fluffy bedhead as he sat up in your shared bed, looking at you with a sharp frown and disgust even though he looked absolutely adorable in that tired and just woke up state.

"drink the damn soup already," you urge for the fifteenth time in the past twenty minutes, crossing your arms across your chest and looking at him, standing by the edge of the bed.

he looked like he was having a staring contest with the soup bowl you had kept in front of him. he glared at it for a few seconds before looking back at you, eyes narrowing into slits as he basically spat. "no. don't tell me what to do, idiot."

"why not?" you narrowed your eyes back at him, choosing to ignore all his words except for the first one. "you literally manhandle me and shove soup down my throat when i'm sick but you don't want to drink it? and you drink soup every other day so why not now when you actually need it?"

he rolled his eyes and seemed to sink a little into the huge blanket. you don't know which question he answered when he says, "that's different."

you just accept it as an answer to your first question.

"how?" you question, moving closer to him and the bed to fix his big, soft pillows and heavy blanket. "do you want me to manhandle you and force you to drink it?"

"fucking try it and i'll stop making you food for two weeks." he hisses like a cat when you shrug, and he glares when your next move is to move the soup bowl a little closer to him. he shoots you a don't you fucking dare look before speaking again. "it's different 'cause you're the one that was sick, not me."

"well," you wreck your brain for any ideas to make him drink the soup. "i'm not talking to you until all the soup in this bowl is gone." you nod after saying it as if to confirm your own words and he gapes at you, scoffing.

"okay, fine," he grits out after a moment of silence. you begin to smile when he finishes his sentence, "don't talk to me, dumbass."

the smile wipes clean off your face and you glare at him once more, but you don't back out. "fine."

you wordlessly sit on the chair in the bedroom and scroll through your phone, feeling bakugou's gaze burn into the side of your head. too bad for him, he was told not to use his phone since he was sick so all he had for entertainment was the dust particles dancing around the air that he could see from the sunlight streaming in through the opened window.

the silence continues for a few minutes before the rustling and ruffling of sheets told you that bakugou was slowly getting out of the bed. you don't bother turning to look at him, hellbent on completing your self given mission of ignoring him until he drank the soup and emptied the bowl.

bakugou doesn't come to you, instead, he just walks out of the room and heads to the bathroom. you hear him harshly slamming the door shut behind him, making you wince as the sound echoed.

he comes back a few minutes later and you quickly look away the moment he enters the room, going back to your phone and doing whatever.

you start to hear the clinking of metal meeting glass and hide your grin when you realize bakugou was actually drinking the soup, the stubborn bastard. who knew he couldn't stay twenty minutes without talking to you?

seconds later, you hear his heavy footsteps on the carpet come closer and closer towards you until the empty soup bowl is shoved in front of your face. you move back and look up to see bakugou's cocky and quite wolfish looking grin.

"i won your stupid game, idiot." he smugly tells you, setting the bowl and spoon down on the table in front of you, smirking in triumph.

"how the hell does your game logic work?" you shake your head but still wrap your arms around his midsection, closely hugging his stomach and patting him on the back with a smile. "good job, kats."

bakugou pats your head a few times with the smug look still on his face, pleased with himself, coughing and sniffling a little due to his cold.

in no time, you have him under the blankets again (—only because he wanted to and was tired, definitely not because you told him to.) but he forces you to join him as well, telling you that, "i don't give a shit about you getting sick 'cause of me. i'll have to take care of your dumb fuck ass anyways."

"fine, fine," you cave, going under the blanket yourself and keeping your back to him. even though what he said was true, you didn't want to get sick and face the pain of bakugou's nagging and overbearing motherliness.

you could literally hear his voice in your head, forcing you to drink the bitter medicine and syrups and eat the healthy food that was supposed to make you feel better but definitely didn't.

"your soup tasted like shit by the way," he tells you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head while you get comfortable and drift off to sleep with his arms securely wrapped around you.

but he had no clue what the soup actually tasted like.

and you didn't need to know that he had flushed it down the toilet.