#I have a pinched nerve in my neck from last night

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

I meant to do my Christmas cleaning tomorrow but of course today is -14° (6.8F) and tomorrow it's going to rain, so I guess I'm defrosting my freezer today and snow washing my wool mat, and also I might as well deep clean the bathroom while I'm at it.

[rafesangelita]

thinking abt how rafe would be like when he takes the !readers virginities >.<

warnings: first times, sooo much praise, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, dirty talk, corruption kink, guided masturbation, oral (f. receiving), body worship, teasing, cream pie, overstimulation, hair pulling, breeding kink

a/n: i really enjoyed writing for all of my !readers in this format, so feel free to send in more req’s like this one <3

wc: 1.6k

₊˚⊹♡ bambi!reader:

poor bambi is soooo nervous, she’s trembling as rafe slips off her panties, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear as he whispers the sweetest things to her. “m’gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl..” he’d insert his fingers in your mouth, telling you to get them nice and slick for him so he could ‘prep’ you for his cock. you’re gasping and whimpering his name when he finally curls his digits inside of you, your thighs threatening to shut around his hand when his thumb finds your sensitive bundle of nerves. “doing so good for me, bambi, ‘promise i’ll have you crying for another reason instead.” and he did. soon, your tears of discomfort turned into ones of pure bliss, your walls fluttering around the welcomed intrusion that was his cock. you’d be staring up at him with those doe eyes of yours while he pounded into you at an unforgiving speed, one hand stroking your clit, and the other wrapped around your neck as he made you unravel until you couldn’t take it anymore.

₊˚⊹♡ sheep!reader:

rafe felt like he was corrupting you with his filthiest fantasy yet. here, in front of him, he had your legs spread apart while he instructed you how to touch yourself. “doesn’t feel like you!” you’d cry out in frustration, your fingers doing nothing to stimulate you the way rafe’s did. he’d pinch your side for getting loud, a whimper leaving your lips at the action. “i just want you to do it yourself one time, baby, that’s all i’m asking.. y’think you can do that for me?” looking up to meet his heated gaze, you’d welcome his lips in a kiss before pathetically rubbing yourself over the pink cotton of your underwear. “you look like you’re close.. if you cum for me, maybe i’ll put it in..” that was all the encouragement you needed, rafe’s large hands cupping your tits as he pulled you onto his aching cock. you yelped when he poked at your entrance, your bottom lip raw from biting it so hard as he bounced you up and down his length. “poor baby, ‘gonna be so sore tomorrow, hmm?” burying your face in his neck, rafe would shush you while stroking your skin tenderly.

₊˚⊹♡ latina!kook!reader:

latina!kook!reader had rafe mesmerized the second he saw her, so now that she was bare beneath him, he couldn’t believe his eyes. far too perfect to be real, he made sure not an inch of her remained untouched. he was gentle as he lapped at the wetness between your thighs, his fingers intertwining with your own as your moans filled the air of your room. “you taste so sweet, angelita.” your eyes would flutter shut as your first orgasm of the night hit you in soft waves, each one magnifying the last. rafe kept tasting you, not being able to get enough until you begged him to be inside of you already. “por favor dámelo, ray— please give it to me, ray.” he cursed under his breath when he heard those words leave your mouth, both of smiling into a kiss as he sat between your folds. “ima give it to you, gorgeous.. i’ll give you whatever you ask for.” your face twisted in pain when he thrusted into you, the man above you holding you by your chin. “you’re so fucking perfect, i could cum just by hearing your voice.”

₊˚⊹♡ bitchy!kook!reader:

rafe is so smug that he gets to be her first fuck, he keeps saying things like, ‘you really gonna let me pop your cherry?’ which only makes her roll her eyes, even as rafe’s tapping his glistening tip against her clit. “can you stop being annoying—” your words die in your throat when he slips inside, both of you gasping as you enveloped every inch of him. “ah, fuck, why do i feel like i’m the one losing my virginity here?” rafe was whispering against your skin, your nails digging into his flesh when the dull ache between your legs turned into pure bliss. you’re kissing him frantically, your teeth clashing together as he pins you down to the mattress by your hips. “tell me you love this shit.” rafe is pulling your hair, forcing you to look down at where you two are connected as you gasp at the sight. “fuck you.” rafe laughs before flashing you a glare. “you already are.” in seconds, he has you in a mean mating press, the words “i love it, i love it, i love it!” is all you could muster as he fucks you absolutely stupid.

₊˚⊹♡ bitchy!pogue!reader:

she’s annoyed when rafe keeps bothering her about it, his fascination only growing for you when you let it slip that you’ve never slept with anyone before. “come on..” he’s in your ear, fingers slipping under your shirt, “just the tip, i promise.” what a lie that was. all it takes is barry leaving the trailer for a few hours before he’s bending you over, pressing your head into the pillows as he digs you out. your glittery nails are clutching your sheets for dear life, your hips moving to meet his thrusts when he starts stroking your clit. “i’m the only one who can fill up this cunt, you hear me?” you’re too busy crying tears of pleasure to acknowledge him, a yelp leaving your lips when he pulls you up against his chest. “just a brainless fuck doll, that’s what you are.” you’re nodding, letting him rut into you until he’s spilling into you, his seed making a mess between your thighs as he rubs your clit into overstimulation. “i’m gonna break you in just fine, babygirl, just wait and see.” you’re a fucked out mess by the time he pulls his clothes back on, his palm delivering a sharp smack to your ass before he’s leaving to conduct ‘business’.

₊˚⊹♡ kook!sweetheart!reader:

rafe is unsure, even as your robe slips off of your body, revealing the gorgeous lingerie set underneath. “i want it to be you,” rafe is welcoming you onto his lap, groaning when you drag your hips against his, “i want you on top of me.. inside of me..” your voice is soft in his ears, his skin feeling hot against yours. “is this what you really want? ‘want me to fuck you?” your wrapping your legs around his waist, both of your lips melting together perfectly. rafe could see the desire in your eyes, along with the nerves as he’s laying you down on your back. unsnapping your bra with one hand, he’s marveling at sight of your tits as they spill out of the lacey material. after making sure you came at least three times around his fingers, you were feeling ready as ever when he finally aligned himself with your entrance, his hand taking yours as he slowly pushed inside. you didn’t feel any pain, the stretch around his cock making you moan. “you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen, taking me so good like this..” rafe praised you, talking you through it all until you came, again and again, with a cry of his name.

₊˚⊹♡ farmer’s!daughter!reader:

a particular cowboy couldn’t wait to rock your world for the first time, even if it meant having to take you in the barn at three in the morning so you two couldn’t get caught by anyone. rafe is enthralled by your smile as the moonlight peaks through the old wood, casting its light onto your bodies. “sit still, sweetheart, i’m trynna make this as painless as possible..” rafe is holding you down, clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle your giggles. “you won’t hurt me—” as soon as he breaks into your walls, your shrieking at the mere girth alone, your eyes rolling back when you felt the ridges of his cock stroke the soft spot inside of you that made you see stars. hands flying out to hold onto his biceps, rafe starts thrusting into you until your whimpers turn into moans, your heels digging in his lower back so he could go deeper. “fuck, darlin’, i might have to breed you.. ‘lock this pussy down.” you clenched around him even tighter at the prospect of having him finish inside of you. “please, i want it!” you kissed his fingers, taking the digits between your lips as he smiled down at you. “yeah? have us some babies running around here?”

₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader:

rafe was reeling when you told him it was your first time when he was already inside of you. “what?!” his eyes widened as you peered up at him innocently. “it’s okay!” you winced when he pulled out, his hands finding your own. “baby, why wouldn’t you tell me?” he was pressing kisses to your knuckles, concern etched all over his face. “i just didn’t want to make it a big deal..” you were whispering now, still needy for your boyfriend as he rolled on top of you. “i could understand that, but at least i’d be a bit more, you know.. gentle.” you laughed, throwing your leg over his hip so he was resting on your mound. “what if if i don’t want you to be?” rafe shuddered, the drop of your voice making his cock twitch. “those are dangerous words..” his jaw clenched as you sighed dreamily. “you could always just say no—” just as you pouted, he caged you between his arms and gave you exactly what you were asking for. of course, he still started off soft, kissing you warmly as his hips barely rocked into yours. but as soon as you were whining, begging for more force, his thrusts became brutal as he plowed into you like there was no tomorrow.

[shycoconutt]

“Plea-oh god-please Kento, I can’t, I have nothing left.”

Feeling Nanami breathe into the skin of your neck, he gives you a small hum of encouragement.

“Oh, darling, but I know you can give me more. Be a good girl fr’ me yeah?”

You find yourself in this situation often. Body worship is what some call it. You are at the complete mercy of him, and he treats your body as if it is an extension of his own.

Nanami Kento knows everything about you—what makes your toes curl, your legs shake, your pussy pulse—and he revels in it.

On nights like this, Nanami props himself up against the fabric headboard of your king-sized bed, your back flush against his chest. Your legs rest on the outside of his widely spread thighs. His arms settle on the small of your waist, elbows squishing into the plush there. Chin resting in the crook of your neck, he guides you through every movement, every caress of your soft flesh.

All while his cock is buried deep inside you and his large, strong hands worship your most sensitive parts.

“So beautiful. So good to me. All mine, all mine, all mine.”

His member is tucked so deeply inside you, tip resting right against your cervix, giving it a little taste of his salty pre. Nanami never lets himself release until the very end, needing to feel you cum around him at least five times before he’s satisfied. He says it’s his favorite feeling in the world.

“Shhhh, shhhh, last one baby. Give me just one more, then I’ll give you my cum, okay?”

You don’t know how he does it, and you feel too cock drunk to form any coherent thoughts determining why he’s such an expert when it comes to you. He knows the exact amount of pressure to apply when he pinches your nipples, exactly what pace to rub your clit, exactly where to bite, nip and kiss your skin. Most impressively, he knows exactly what to say when he wants you to let go.

“Mmm you’re so messy, darling. Look, you’ve gotten me and the bed all wet.”

While one hand kneads your breast, he brings the other down between your legs, using his fingers to gather up your nectar.

“Such a good pussy.”

After spreading your wetness around your folds, he brings his hand back up and out in front of your faces, rubbing and separating his fingers so you can both watch the strings of your release stick to him.

“Open.”

You immediately obey his command without a second thought, you always do.

Nanami brings two of his cum-soaked fingers to your mouth, and you invite them in with ease. You feel yourself pulse when your essence hits your tastebuds and you suck needily at his skin.

“Save some for me, darling.”

Gentling hooking his finger on the inside of your cheek, he brings your face to the side to meet his, his dark brown eyes boring into yours with hunger. You release his fingers slightly from your suction, and he brings them out in between both of your mouths. Together, you begin to suck at them, every so often wrapping your lips around them to give each other sloppy licks and kisses.

It’s so hot and erotic, and you are too entrapped in it all to notice your final orgasm creeping up on you. But Nanami notices, he always does.

“That’s a good girl. Where do you want my hands?”

Your head falls back onto his shoulder as you feel your core tighten. You are so close, that you’re surprised you can give him an answer.

“My pussy.”

Nanami quickly brings both of his hands down to your core. He lays two fingers on either side of your sensitive bundle of nerves, rolling it gently between them.

Everything immediately goes white as you let out a cry of intense pleasure. Giving yourself over to him completely, your body goes limp against his as waves of your orgasm crash over you.

“Yes, yes, amazing darling. You’re giving me such a good one.”

Feeling yourself rhythmically pulsing around him, Nanami starts to lose all prior restraint as he lets out a moan from deep within his chest. Hooking his arms under your thighs, he holds them up and to your chest. Bearing all of your weight effortlessly, he begins to simultaneously pound into you while moving you up and down on his cock.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunts into your ear.

All the sudden movement is starting to make you feel dizzy, still dumb from your release. Feeling him pound over and over again all the way to your cervix, you begin to match his moans.

“Such a pretty slut for me. You love when I use you like this huh? Like my own personal fleshlight.”

He’s becoming more relentless with each thrust, signaling what’s coming next.

“Should I give you what you want, darling?”

Bringing your hand back behind you to play with the hair of his undercut, you whimper slightly.

“Mmm, yes, I’ve been so good. I deserve it, Nami, please.”

You can feel his smile against your neck, canines poking at your skin.

“Yes, yes you do.”

With one final thrust, Nanami clamps you down, pushing you as far as you can go onto his length. Hearing his head hit the headboard, he cries out as he begins to release rope after rope of his thick cum into you, coating your plush walls.

It takes you a couple seconds to come to, feeling absolutely full of him. Completely spent, Nanami gently brings your legs back down to rest on his own, then wraps his arms tightly around your shoulders.

It takes a little while longer for both of your breathing to come back to normal, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a state of pure bliss. You thank the universe every day for bringing him to you.

“I love you so much, darling. You have no idea. I’m completely and utterly obsessed with you,” he whispers in your ear.

Hiding your smile in his forearms, you feel a faint blush crawl up your cheeks.

“Let’s stay like this for a while, yeah?” you speak into his skin.

He happily hums to you, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“How about forever?”

a/n: to all my fellow nanami sluts out there, can I get a “hell yeah!”

mdni banner by @kithsune

[hopelesswrites]

Music Boyfriend part 1

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part 1 / 2 / 3

Summary: Eddie is an anonymous frontman of Corroded Coffin and meets his long-time pen-crush while on the run from the law.

Notes: This is HEAVILY inspired by movie Dinner in America, I was obsessed with the dynamic and felt it fit Eddie and Reader so well. general plot similarities but not a complete retelling of the movie.

Eddies POV

Sweat dripped down the nape of Eddie Munsons neck, chest raising and falling at a rapid rate, his hooded reflection an image of fierce rage as he attempted to calm down his heart and mind after the show. It was the biggest crowd they had played for. At least 100 sweaty bodies mashed together screaming his lyrics. Eddie was in a euphoric state the whole set, Corroded Coffin was finally making it in the scene, people were actually taking them seriously.

“Great show tonight dude” Gareth the bands drummer spoke as he walked past smacking his palm against the skin of Eddies exposed back.

“Owners talking about getting us back next weekend”

Eddies heartbeat was still pounding in his ears when he roughly ripped off the black ski mask from his head, damp curls sprawling out from their confinement.

Shouting could be heard from outside before the door to the small green room slammed open. “They’re looking for you man” Jeff ran in. Eddie could hear the police outside the door, their voices getting closer.

“Quick get out of here and lay low, whatever you did this time they’ll forget in a few days”

Eddie cursed before haphazardly putting his mask back on and shrugging his leather jacket on his shoulders before entering the cold night air.

The cops were looking for Eddie, and with the mask on he was no longer Eddie, he was Vandal, Van for short, but he made a run for it just to be safe.

Eddie knew back at the bar his band will be getting interrogated right now. But their story was always the same “we don’t know no Eddie; the lead singers name is Van”

He liked to keep his real identity a secret on stage. It was easier due to all the trouble he gets up to during the day and he just preferred the anonymity of it, he could be anyone once that hood came on.

Down the street now Eddie slowed to a brisk walk, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long drag once he finally got a breath. He smiled at the irony of that, thinking of ways he could incorporate that into a lyric, connect it back to the bands rebellious non conformity message.

After a few more minutes of walking Eddie made it to the nearest service station, pulling his hood off and stuffing it in his jacket pocket before entering. He beelined straight to the confectionary section ripping off a chocolate bar and stomping down the aisle for a packet of chips. At the counter he watched the bored clerk perk up at the sight of him, adjusting her shirt to show off more cleavage.

“What can I do for you” she asked in the most flirtatious voice she could

“Uh, cheapest bottle of bourbon please” Eddie answered giving the girl a wink before she turned around to grab the bottle.

“What time do you get off?” Eddie leaned his elbows on the counter so his eyes were in line with her chest, noticing the way she pushed her chest out more and stood with her hand on her hip.

“I’m here all night, but it’s pretty dead, I can lock the door” She replied seductively. Eddie considered his options. Try to go home to his uncle who likely already received a visit from the cops, or hole up here with a pretty lady until the authorities cool off for the night.

The answer was obvious.

-

Eddie was rudely awoken by the zip of his leather jacket hitting him in his eye socket. Groaning he stretched in the plastic chair he had curled up on, flinching when he pinched a nerve in his back. Uncle Waynes couch would have been a better option.

“You have to leave now my supervisors going to be here” A voice spoke above him.

Eddie squinted open one eye to see a dishevelled version of the girl he met last night. On the floor to his right was an empty bottle of that bourbon and a plastic cup with the remnants of his last few cigarettes.

“Get me another packet of Marlboros would ya” Eddie resumed his stretch, rubbing the eye that he could already feel a small bruise forming around.

He heard movement and a small box hit him in the chest.

“Out! Now!”

Eddie scrambled to his feet shrugging on his jacket realising he still had no shirt underneath.

“Can I pinch a shirt?” Eddie asked the girl frantically cleaning up the back room they spent the night in.

“They’re next to the drink fridge, hurry” she answered, uninterested in Eddies company by now.

Eddie walked out the back entrance of the service station clad in a shirt saying, “Warning, Choking Hazard” with an arrow pointed downward, he chuckled to himself, pleased with his selection before lighting up another cigarette and making his way in town. He was starving and could use a greasy cheeseburger to soak up some of the alcohol still swirling through his system.

If he was lucky, the police had forgotten about Mr Wheelers stolen car and Mrs Norris’s once perfectly manicured lawn (he didn’t see the pot hole, he was trying not to pop Mr Wheelers tyre obviously).

Down the main strip of Hawkins Eddie kept his head down trying not to draw any attention. He was on 80% of these peoples hit list, been done dirty by Eddie one way or another. This was why he was so eager to blow up with the band and get the hell out of this shit hole. He approached the record store, interested in this week’s new releases. Him and the band had been trying to get Corroded Coffins album in store for months. Keith the asshole kept saying they weren’t selling amateur garage band shit, so Eddie deeply despised the place.

Like a magnet Eddie found his way to the metal section, browsing the albums he already knew and loved when one cover up the back caught his eye. It was Corroded Coffin, he had hand drawn that cover himself, he recognised the charcoal smudge scanned onto the left edge of every album they printed. It cost him a fortune, only two existed in vinyl format and 50 cassettes, all the copies they hand out at shows now are hand scratched mixtape style covers. This was one of those 50 official cassettes.

“Its limited edition, hence, the markup” A soft voice spoke from behind Eddie. He turned his head and scowled at the girl stood behind him. She was twiddling with a sticker that read ‘SALE’ a crooked name badge on a too big shirt with ‘Hawkins Records’ printed on the opposite side.

“Yeah, I know its limited edition, its one of 50” Eddie spat back protectively. Who was this girl telling him about his own band?

“Its one of my own copies. I bought two because I’m such a fan and wanted a backup but Keiths been pushing back their request to sell in the store, so I sacrificed my spare to put out, they deserve to be in stores, have you heard of them?” The girl rambled, seemingly forgetting her own surroundings once she had started talking.

“Of course, I’ve heard of them” Eddie grumbled putting the album back. “Better question is how have you heard of them”

Eddie turned fully now to look at the girl. She was nothing like the people who come to his shows, she radiated too much of a cautious, anxious energy. She looked uncomfortable in her own skin and ashamed of her own actions, but Eddie was no psychoanalyst, he couldn’t make those kinds of conclusions. She looked up at him but a little to the left, never making eye contact and she had a twitch in her leg that looked a little like Gareth tapping a kick drum.

“My friend Jack showed me their album, he works here Monday to Thursday, he’s really into metal”

Eddie looked her up and down as he tried to work this girl out, she was fucking weird, and that was saying something coming from him, the towns resident freak.

“Did you know the bands lead vocalist Vandal wears a mask?” Her leg began to twitch more as she continued to talk about Eddie, to Eddie.

“He stays anonymous when he performs, I find it so hot no one knows who he really is” Her twitching turned into a small bounce and Eddie stepped back away from her.

“Oi! Nutcase, stop harassing the customers, get back to work!” Keith yelled from the front of the store, shutting down this girl’s excitement. This didn’t sit well with Eddie at all.

“Does he always talk to you like that?”

The girl looked down at her shoes nervously. “Yeah, he does”

Eddie grunted, “He’s an asshole, you know that?” The girl only nodded back.

Her submission to the asshole up the front only enraged Eddie more. “Hey! Keith!” He shouted across the store, stomping up to the counter.

“Find someone else to pick on” He growled before planting one hard punch to Keith’s face, definitely breaking his nose. Other customers in the store looked up, curious about the commotion.

“And treat your staff better”

Keith groaned in pain, “She’s fucking useless man, what the fuck”

Something in Eddie felt protective over this girl, and he wasn’t sure why. She was a fan obviously and a part of him felt indebted to her for her devotion to his art, whether she knew it or not.

“Come on” Eddie grunted, pulling the strange girl by her arm and out of the store. He knew it wouldn’t be too long before Keith calls the police and they’re hot on his trail again.

“Where are we going?” She asked still being dragged by Eddie.

“To your place”

Surprisingly it didn’t take any convincing at all for this girl to lead Eddie in the direction of her house, taking backstreets to avoid attention. Eddie added this to her list of traits that made her a freak, who the hell takes a guy like Eddie home after that?

“Hey, stop” Eddie interrupts once they were far enough away, he thought they’d be safe from authorities. “Fuck this shit” he said ripping off the name badge from her uniform. “You don’t need that shithole” The girl looked at Eddie now, analysing him.

“Am I fired?”

The question baffled him, how does he answer that. Did he just get her fired?

“Like I said, you don’t need that shithole” He punctuated, motioning for her to continue walking, he was still fucking starving.

-

She led him up to a plain white house, perfect coverup assuming Keith doesn’t talk. Inside, it was as plain at the exterior, perfect picture of boring suburbia. Eddie couldn’t help comparing it to somewhere they’d send him to torture him.

“My Dads on a trip and my Moms at work, no one will find you here” The girl said, practically reading Eddies mind.

She walked him through and into the kitchen offering him a glass of water, which Eddie rejected as he pushed her out of the way to scan her fridge.

“Where’s the beer?”

The strange girl shrugged, “Dad doesn’t like beer”

“Is there any booze in this house?” He asked, already getting irritated.

“Well, dads got a special bottle of whiskey he saves for Christmas each year in his study, he says its vintage”

“Perfect” Eddie answered, “Go get it”

He continued to rummage through the fridge, pulling out bread, turkey meat and cranberry jelly. The girl stayed put, not answering Eddie. “Is there a problem?”

“Its Dads special Whiskey, he only drinks it on Christmas”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Whatever”

Once his sandwich was made Eddie began to look around the house, looking for anything valuable he could snatch on his way out tomorrow. “What’s your deal then?” Eddie called from a gallery wall near the front entrance, viewing a series of boring family photos, this family didn’t even go on vacation, every photo looked like a Macys photoshoot.

“What do you mean?” She asked sneaking up next to Eddie, causing him to jump and hold his chest.

“Fucking creepy, don’t do that” He hissed before composing himself, “I mean, what do you do besides work at the record store, did you go to college? Actually, how old are you?”

“I’m 20, I did one year at college, but mom thought I’d be better working and getting some life experience and going back later when I gained a bit more confidence”

Eddie noted the way she spoke to the wall rather than to Eddie, so he turned to face her directly, encouraging her to do the same.

“You think you’re getting life experience getting yelled at by Keith?”

“Not really”

Eddie crossed his arms, “what do you want to be doing then?”

The girl took a moment to consider her next words, biting her lip in thought. “Follow me” She led him up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom with the most contradicting aesthetic Eddie had ever seen. Her bed was cutely decorated with girly blankets, a pile of stuffed animals in the corner. Cascading over the bed was a frilly canopy covered in fairly lights. To the opposite wall was a white traditional vanity with a pretty jewellery box decorated with glittery stickers, and various lip glosses and juvenile makeup products. The walls however were covered in aggressive Metal band posters. Eddie spotted a concert advertisement poster they had put up around town for one of Corroded Coffins gigs. She had a stack of cassettes beside her bed that Eddie imagined didn’t contain a single Madonna album.

“I want to start a band” She spoke quickly, rummaging through a cardboard box of letters, papers and various craft equipment.

“I don’t have anyone to join the band, but I’ve been writing songs” She pulls out one envelope generously decorated in stickers. “I sometimes send the love songs to Vandal from Corroded Coffin” she explains turning around to show Eddie the letter she had, addressed to his uncles PO box.

Eddies stomach dropped, face void of any blood as he stared at the familiar envelope connecting the dots between this girl and the girl he’d been fantasizing about for over a year now.

This was fucking bad.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Party Favors, Bribes, and Sharks

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!(goth!)fem!reader

Summary: When Tim finally invites you to meet his friends, it takes more than party favors and promises to convince you to go.

Warnings: fluff, brief depiction of anxiety/nervousness, teasing

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“What are you wearing?” Tim asks, frozen in the open doorway.

“A shark,” you answer softly. “It’s a hammerhead.”

Tim presses his tongue against his cheek and nods. He’s seen you in nearly every outfit imaginable over the last year, except for bright colors… or, as it seems, sharks.

“I didn’t know your fascination had extended to clothing,” he mumbles as he finally closes the door.

“It’s a hooded blanket,” you explain. “And it was on sale.”

Tim nods again, unable to take you seriously with the plush hammerhead pulled over your hair or the patterned sleeves your arms are in. He drops his bag and sighs as he sits beside you. It’s been nearly a week since you saw him. As you offer him one side of your shark blanket, he smiles.

“We solved the case,” he says, laying your blanket over one of his legs.

“I knew you would,” you murmur, looking at his neck rather than his face.

“And we decided to have a little get-together to celebrate.”

You hum, straightening the edge of the blanket along Tim’s thigh.

“You should come,” he adds, placing his hand atop yours.

Frozen, you pinch your brows and consider what he said. You’ve been dating for about a year but haven’t met any of his friends or coworkers yet. For good reason, you think.

“Funny,” you whisper, looking away from Tim.

“I’m serious,” Tim assures. “I’m inviting you to the… Lucy’s calling it a party. You can meet everyone.”

You look at the television screen, the rainy night ambiance video threatening to weaken your resolve. “Tim,” you begin. “I’d rather eat my own eyes."

Tim tips his head back and laughs, not at you or your shyness, but at your graphic response. You’re all things darkness, but Tim knows the softness and shyness lying underneath.

“C’mon, you have to come with me.”

“No, I don’t.”

Tim sighs before he turns toward you and places his hands on your sides. “If you come with me, I’ll get you fresh strawberries from that farmer’s market in Santa Monica you love so much.”

Your eyes widen at the idea. Those strawberries are the best things you’ve ever had. Unconsciously, your hand raises to your neck, and you toy with the strawberry charm tucked beneath your other jewelry.

“We can go this weekend and buy as many as you want,” Tim continues. “Maybe even eat some on the beach.”

“I… Tim, I can’t just go,” you argue softly.

“Yes, you can. Listen, I promise that everything will be completely fine. This isn’t a huge thing, it’s casual, you can be yourself.”

You scoff and look down at Tim’s arms.

“I’m serious,” he says firmly. “They’re going to love you. So, if you’re just nervous about them not liking you, that’s not enough of a reason to say no.”

You purse your lips to think. It’s not fair that Tim knows you so well or is willing to use your love of strawberries against you.

“Fine,” you whisper. “But if it doesn’t go well, I stand by my eye-eating comment.”

“I have no doubt of that.”

The day of Mid-Wilshire’s celebratory party, you’re a mess. From the moment you wake up, you’re stressing about every little thing and growing more nervous. You peruse your closet, then turn to Pinterest for outfit ideas, but you keep questioning what Tim meant when he said casual. His casual and your casual are very different, and you don’t want to wear the wrong thing and make the night even more nerve-wracking or awkward than you’re sure it will already be.

“Breathe,” you remind yourself.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and exit your room. After a break in which you have a snack, watch a short shark documentary, and wave to your neighbor’s cat out the window, you return to your closet. This time, the outfit seems to jump out at you.

As you lay a pair of baggy jeans on your bed, the rest of the look falls together effortlessly. You choose a black sweater with a skeleton made of stars, black Converse with colorful jewels on the laces, and your daily rings and necklaces. The strawberry charm Tim got you on one of your first dates gets lost among the dark, gothic jewelry, but you know it’s there.

With an outfit picked, your heart rate slows, and your nervousness eases slightly. There’s plenty you could be concerned about, but your question will be answered soon enough.

“Worst case scenario,” you murmur as you straighten your outfit in the mirror. “They hate me, and Tim leaves me.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Tim says, suddenly behind you. You turn quickly, and he pulls you into a hug. “You’re perfect, and everything is going to be fine.”

“You can’t know that,” you complain against his arm.

“I brought you something to help convince you.” Tim steps back and pulls his backpack off the floor. “I’ve been holding onto this for a special occasion, and this seems like a good time.”

You watch as Tim pulls a stuffed animal out of his bag. You want to make a joke, but then you see what it is. The shark plushy is colored like a strawberry; it combines your two favorite things in the world. Things that Tim knows make you melt. Your shyness and worry are forgotten as you hug the strawberry shark to your chest.

“This is like Halloween!” you cheer.

“You mean Christmas?” Tim counters.

“I mean my favorite day of the year.”

Tim nods, kisses your forehead, then steps around you to get ready. As you wait with your shark, you allow yourself to be distracted. When Tim returns a few minutes later, you reluctantly set the stuffed animal on your bed and pat its back.

“Thank you,” you tell Tim. “I love him.”

“Is that why he’s in my spot?” Tim inquires with a knowing smile.

You smile and look down, clasping your hands together behind your back. Until you get to the party, you won’t know what to expect. You’ve heard Tim talk about everyone in attendance, but that’s different than meeting them, seeing them face-to-face, and allowing them to judge you. These people mean something to Tim; they’re his family, and if they don’t like you, there might be a risk of losing him.

“Are you ready to go?” Tim asks, offering his hand.

“Is it down to that or eating my eyes?” you question.

“Yes, and I happen to like your eyes.”

You grumble under your breath and take Tim’s hand. He leads you to his truck and whispers that everything will be fine. You try to believe him.

Halfway through the drive, your leg bounces so hard that the entire seat shakes. Tim turns, then places his hand on your knee, brushing his thumb over your leg. He has seen you nervous, but never like this.

“You’re fine,” he promises.

“What if they-“

“They’re going to love you.”

“But I don’t want to-“

“We’re here.”

You look up from Tim’s hand and sink in your seat. He squeezes your knee gently, opens his door, and rounds the truck to help you get out.

“Tim,” you whisper.

“I got you,” he promises, smiling despite your obvious concern. “Trust me, and then we’ll go get strawberries.”

“I like my rocks better than you,” you complain quietly, sliding out of the truck.

“Remind me who found your favourite rock.”

You huff, unwilling to acknowledge that the rock that looks like it’s covered in raindrops is your favourite or that Tim found it in your backyard. He takes your hand and leads you to the door. When you step behind him, Tim allows you to pull his hand with you, reaching behind his back to comfort you. Although, he knows you won’t need a buffer.

“Tim! You made it!” a woman cheers as the door opens. She gasps and drops her voice to add, “And you finally brought her!”

Tim lifts the hand not trapped in yours toward her, and you assume he motions for her to take it easy on you. Your eyes are on his back muscles, visible through his shirt, rather than anything or anyone around you.

“I was beginning to question if I’d see a night off,” another voice says.

“Tell me about it! Especially when Oscar called.”

Everyone groans, and you look up, still hidden behind Tim but able to see some people in the room. They’re dressed casually, you notice, and one of them is wearing an outfit similar to yours, minus the skeleton design.

“What?” Tim asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” the woman who opened the door answers.

You step to the left and raise your chin, accidentally locking eyes with her. She smiles but doesn’t move toward you or speak. You appreciate it and return her smile.

“Thanks for letting me come,” you say before introducing yourself.

After you say thanks, she moves to your side and pulls you away from Tim. Away from him and the others, she directs you to sit with her.

“I’m Angela, and I’ve been waiting so long to meet you. When Tim slipped and told me he had a girlfriend, I, well, I didn’t believe him at first, but I’ve never seen him like this,” she explains. “He’s been so happy with you! He refused to show me pictures, but you’re even prettier than I expected.”

“Thank you,” you reply softly. “Sorry, I’m not great at, uh, anything interpersonal.”

“Then you’re perfect for Tim.”

You laugh at her friendly teasing and are surprised when you fall into a short but easy conversation with her about how you met Tim.

“Give her some room, Lopez,” Tim calls from the doorway.

“It’s okay,” you tell him.

“Yeah, Timothy,” Angela replies. “It’s okay. It won’t be once she meets Nolan and Lucy, but I’m her new best friend, so you need to watch your back, Bradford.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he nods. He waves for you and Angela to join the others when you’re ready, then retreats around the corner again.

“I’m still nervous,” you admit to Angela.

“Well, now you have me. Just remember these two things: one, Nolan never shuts up, but he doesn’t actually say much.” She pauses as you chuckle, then raises another finger to add, “And we all tease each other, but there’s nothing except respect and care between us. You’re going to fit right in, I promise.”

“As my best friend?”

Angela loops her arm through yours after you stand and replies, “You understand already.”

You sit between Tim and Angela at the table, and less than ten seconds after she joins you, Tim's friends begin asking questions.

“Guys,” Angela interrupts. “Okay, this is Lucy, Nolan, Wade, Nyla, her husband James, and my fantastic husband, Wesley.”

“Why did he get a fantastic husband?” James challenges.

“You heard me.”

“Okay, how did you meet Tim?” Lucy inquires.

“We just ran into each other,” you answer nervously.

“Did he ask you out?” Nolan adds.

You nod, and they continue taking turns to better understand your relationship with Tim. A few minutes into the conversation, your answers are louder and contain more words.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Wade asks in the first lapse of silence.

“Sharks,” you and Tim answer together.

“Tim!” Lucy exclaims, clapping her hands together.

You laugh and realize at that moment that Tim was right. His friends are chill, open, and seem to like you.

“I don’t get why you’re with Tim,” Nyla tells you on the way out, “but I’m glad you came tonight.”

“Me too,” you answer. “I’ll see you around.”

“Count on it!” James calls.

Tim helps you into the truck and then reaches into the backseat. He passes you the new strawberry shark, and you clutch it tightly.

“Your friends are great,” you tell him.

“I tried to tell you,” he responds lightly. “And they’re your friends now, too.”

“I like that.”

Tim nods and murmurs, “You didn’t like it before I agreed to get you strawberries and watch Halloween movies.”

“We’re watching Halloween movies, too?!”

[reds-writings]

jealousy, jealousy!

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: hello! welcome to my first bout of writing! feedback is greatly appreciated and i hope you enjoy! there isn't much rust content on here so i figured i'd create it myself lmao

warnings: cursing, steamy scenes but nothing too crazy, sorta sexism, marty hart being himself, rust being pigheaded, mentions of sex, etc etc let me know if i missed anything (minors just don't bother interacting regardless thank you!)

word count: around 5.8k

Never did you think that sitting in the passenger’s seat of Rustin Cohle’s red Ford pickup could have you seething as it did now. This wasn’t at all how your night was supposed to go and the culprit of said unsavory evening was sitting right next to you, cigarette pinched between tense fingers and eyes set hard on the dark highway ahead. The stubborn bastard had made no move to turn on the radio to save you both from the borderline unbearable silence. All you had was the humid Louisiana air from his rolled-down window flowing into the truck’s cabin and you couldn’t quite find it in you to be grateful for the fact he seemed to have kept in mind you detested the smell of that sour burning tobacco. 

Just who the hell does he think he is?

The question that repeated itself a mile a minute in your Coors-addled brain as it fought to catch up with all that just occurred not even a mere hour prior. Rust, as you already well knew, did not bother himself much when it came to others unless it strictly involved the endless trials of his work. That was the line he drew on a daily basis. Nothing could be clearer than the fact that Rust had little to no capacity for getting truly personal with most who existed in his orbit.

It was something you dealt with a bit better than the likes of your other partner Marty day in and day out at the CID. Though he may be one mystery wrapped in a more or less fucked up enigma, Rust’s way of functioning stayed relatively consistent. You didn’t dig often given that he wasn’t up and ready to offer much in the first place. He was sharp and strong-minded. Possessing most qualities that make well for a good investigative partner. Lines didn’t get muddled. It was how you preferred it. Up until recently, that is.

You didn’t have much nerve or will to go down that route right about now. 

Earlier in the day…

Your fingers were cramping at the end of typing the last dregs of the day’s reports. This recent case was starting to weigh heavier and heavier as an influx of countlessly cryptic details revealed themselves with each milestone of the investigative process. Something about this being darkly occultish as it was made it all the more daunting. There was a sense of underlying dread that this was something bigger than all of you. A sentiment you found yourself sharing with at least one of your partners: Rust. Marty on the other hand was still on the fence, not totally in the business of believing this was more than just some twisted piece of shit who had nothing better to do with his time. You wish you had half the mind to reduce it down to something so simple.

Strange things were not that of an irregular occurrence around these parts. Though said strange things didn’t have the habit of making it to the limelight as the Dora Lange case had. This wasn’t the type of case where one could be fine with just leaving it at work and picking it back up when they returned the next day as normal. Its disturbing details twisted themselves into every fiber of your daily life since that poor girl was found posed in Erath. It was better to eat, sleep, and breathe this case so that it may be solved all the more quickly. 

A world with one less monster like the one capable of committing a murder such as this is was a world where you could maybe sleep a little more soundly. 

Rolling your shoulders back, you twisted your aching neck side to side, resounding with an aching series of pops. God, I need a drink. You thought to yourself as you leaned back into the roller chair at your desk. The clock on your floor’s wall read 6:02. With all the work on your part done you figured you could slip out with much complaint. Stiffly rising from your spot, you started to pack away any necessary belongings into your well-loved messenger bag. Marty glanced up from his notes with a small quirk of his brow, “You headin’ out?”

Throwing your hair up to save yourself from the impending humidity from outside you replied, “Yeah. Need to wash the day off me and go grab a drink or somethin’. Bein’ out talkin’ to them church folk in the heat nearly all afternoon then witnessin’ Rust make that one boy shit himself was enough for the day.” 

Marty snorted to himself at that while Rust made no move to acknowledge your statement from his spot as he analyzed his comically large ledger. The blonde sipped his evening coffee as you finished gathering your things, “Don’t get too crazy tonight now. Lots to do in the days to follow I reckon the more this case stays befuddlin’ as is.”

You scoffed lightly, “I don’t doubt that. I’ll probably just head to that Blue Gator joint off the highway. Grab a few beers. Maybe a dance should one be willin’. Need’ta let loose is all.” 

“I’m sure any fella would be delighted to spin the night away with the likes of you, darlin’. Leave it at just dancin’ will ya?” Marty snickered a bit as you scowled and flipped him off idly. You notice in your peripheral Rust go still with a pen in hand but he didn’t make any move to look up or participate in the conversation. 

Continuing, you fix Marty with a half-hard look, “I’m sure you have your extracurricular activities beyond the job so it ain’t a sin to have my own. Anways, this is hardly an appropriate conversation to have betwixt coworkers, Martin. Keep your nose outta it.” 

Marty let out a surprised guffaw and placed an offended hand over his heart. Rust still hadn’t moved an inch from his position. When you let your gaze drift over towards the silent half of the duo you were met with that cold blue stare of his. The mere instance of contact left you feeling funnier than you’d prefer as of late. Things were starting to blossom into something a little different between you two after the few months of being in each other’s presence. He had been starting to open up in a manner he hadn’t bothered to when he first transferred to the CID here in Louisana. His presence had been quiet but no less intimidating, leaving you and Marty at a loss of what to do to prompt him out of his self-imposed shell.

Now, as this new case unfolded it seemed to trigger a sudden release of the deepest tidbits of his…intense opinions and values that went on within the inner workings of his mind. Marty often found himself wishing that Rust never bothered to open his mouth at all. Anything coming from the brooding Texan seemed to offend Hart on some deeper level one way or another.

For you, while it was not all that pleasant to constantly hear how fucked up we as a collective were and how life had little to no meaning, were intrigued nonetheless. You believed that Rust was just as human as everyone else despite him pushing himself as far away from that narrative as possible. He was just broken in a way that couldn’t ever be truly reversed. So while his infinitely dismal ramblings left you feeling more defeated about life than anything else at times, you couldn’t find it in you to really hold it against him. 

When it came to your dynamic, he seemed to have more of an unspoken respect for you than most of your colleagues did within the department. It wasn’t some radical declaration made by him that clued you in on the matter. He mostly just treated you the same as everyone else. Not inherently negative nor too positively outgoing where others could accuse him of giving you some form of special treatment. He listened to you and took your input into genuine consideration which was more than you could ask for when it came to working alongside any of your other male counterparts. However, there were these little instances within the recent weeks that had your mind (and heart) taking another route when it came to how Rust Cohle just might regard you. 

First, it started with fresh coffee materializing on your desk by the time you’d be strolling in at morning time. Two sugars with one cream and always in your favorite green mug ordained with hand-painted daisies. Very specific and not at all a detail that Marty ever bothered himself with remembering about you in the time you’d known each other. Not that you ever really cared. No one else here would ever think to offer you a damn thing unless it was maybe the lovely receptionist up at the front.

It wasn’t until one night you had forgotten your keys at your desk and made your way back inside the assumingly empty department only to find the Rust Cohle with sleeves pushed up to his elbows in the small office kitchen cleaning your daisy mug that you’d left haphazardly in the sink before leaving. You watched in silent awe as he had set it gently aside after drying it for what you assumed was for the next morning where he’d be the one who dutifully made your memorized coffee order in secret before your arrival. To him, the act was probably meaningless. 

To you, the simple scene made your heart squeeze in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

Next, it occurred when he started offering you rides to and fro after your car suffered a nasty rear-ending thus needing to have it sit in the shop for the time being. At first, it was a little nerve-wracking to be in close proximity without Marty present to break any drawn-out silences but after a while you’d found yourself in a rhythm you could call your own. Sometimes you’d talk, sometimes you’d sit and listen to whatever old country cassettes he had stowed away in his glove compartment. It was never dull to you. 

Each car ride had you piecing together factoids that unfurled into the evergrowing idea that was your new(ish) partner. You still found yourself sharing more about your own life than he did more often than not but you were okay with that. Even if he wasn’t the most reactive of men, you knew he held on to every word. Anything he decided to sparingly share had you doing the same with a reverence you weren’t sure you carried for anyone else.  

After getting your car back and no longer needing his chauffeur services a silent agreement had followed. Neither party was completely ready to let go of the pleasant thirty-three minutes permitted to be spent together outside of work. It was decided that he’d drive you home on nights you happened to leave late, deeming it too dangerous to be traveling home at odd hours in the night although you had already been doing so plenty before he manifested into your life.

Eventually, he even found himself at your house one day after having determined that your porch steps needed fixing…or that your gutters should be cleared…or that the lawn was looking a little too overgrown than what was acceptable. Small acts where you felt that maybe he wanted to be in your presence a bit longer than normally desired when it came to his usual limits of socialization.

Seeing him working around your property with that sweat-soiled wife beater of his and those lithe, god-given arms made that squeeze in your heart reach new heights and your tongue feel like lead. Who knew such pictures of domesticity could have this intense of a hold over you? You usually prided yourself in not being so easily affected by men. Though it wasn’t necessarily news that Rust was his own brand of a striking handsome that stood out against most men you’d come across. The sweet tea you’d supply for the dreadful heat when he’d carry out his projects ended up being more for your own benefit than his.

You caught yourself feeling greedy for more of his presence as he made himself an increasingly present fixture in your life. Which realistically…couldn’t lead to any sort of good. 

Bringing yourself back to now, his gaze held an emotion you couldn’t quite place. Hell, most times it was hard enough to know exactly what he was thinking unless he outright declared it. Maybe it was disapproval? Judgement? It wasn’t likely that he wanted to hear about your potential escapades. You probably wouldn’t want to hear of his either (not that he ever does speak of it if he even engages in that sort of activity) but you’d be coming from a different place on that matter. He returns to the pages of his ledger after deciding to break the staring spell, “I don’t see what sorta grand company could be found at an establishment such as the Green Gator.”

 His tone came out a bit too passive for your liking. Bordering the ugly lines of judgy which was something that rubbed you wrong entirely, “It’s the Blue Gator-”

“Oh hush up, Mr. High and Mighty. Not every man is as intellectually driven as you find yourself. Most men want fun and ain’t gonna pass it up when it’s in front of em’. They don’t need nearly as much as you do to get their rocks off.” Marty angles himself towards Rust in his chair, already willing to bat for you in his more than unhelpful way. 

Rust just scoffed and shook his head slightly, “Wouldn’t expect a thing from anyone in this vast shithole…buncha ignorant shitheels with no sense of fuckin’…” He muttered the rest of his ramblings detailing the severe lack of intelligence that the people of Louisiana seemed to hold while bringing his attention back to his ledger. 

His shoulders were set in a harder line than usual. Marty got a kick out of it all, reducing Rust’s distaste to not being able to participate in normalcy like anybody else in the world could.    

On your end, it struck a nerve that he clearly found your plans more than dissatisfactory. It left an unpleasant taste in your mouth to be on the potential receiving end of Rust’s ruthless judgments.

“You forget him, y/n. You have yourself a good ol’ time with whatever strappin’ young man of your choosing should he be lucky. Don’t let grumpy guss piss on your parade.” 

You find yourself grimacing at how much focus on you and the prospect of potentially getting laid has been put. You look back to Rust but he seemed to be no longer interested in your presence, back in his own world and on the case. Patting Marty on the shoulder you finally make your way to head out, “G’night. I’d love it if we never brought any of this up again. Page me if anythin’ comes up.” 

“Y’got it, darlin’. You stay safe.” Marty points at you a bit more seriously and you nod in slight exasperation with a soft ‘got it’ before officially leaving. Rust hadn’t said another word which left you feeling all sorts of confused. Relieved he didn’t further insult your plans for a night out? Disappointed he didn’t put up much of a fight when it came to you maybe trying to avoid any of your current problems with the company of another man? You don’t know what you expected but you did know that you needed to get it together and just let this shit go even for just one night. 

And what a night it would be indeed. 

Night at the Blue Gator…

The night was proving to be a bit more than uneventful. Perhaps uneventful was just about the only thing your mind could handle at the given moment with everything else going on. The lingering feeling of Rust’s disapproval had also left you more affected than desired. With a few Coors in your system, you find your gaze a little hazy as it passes around the kitschy establishment.

Some George Strait song filters through the bar on top of the active chatter of the patrons taking up a surprising amount of space for a Wednesday night. The cute little black dress you managed to find in your closet and squeeze into was becoming less than ideal as you found yourself hearing the siren call of just calling it quits and crawling into bed back home. Clean sheets and reruns of something like The Golden Girls…absolute fucking heaven right about now. 

Briefly pressing your perspiring bottle to your forehead, you soon enough were roped into a dance as some lively Brooks and Dunne tune came on. The fella who managed to drag you on the dancefloor was decent enough. A bit short and plenty bald… with maybe a tad too eager of hands for your tastes that left you feeling a bit removed from the experience as a few more songs went on. You weaseled yourself out of the crowd after ‘promising’ baldy (named Rex or Tex but who’s to really care) you’d make your return after grabbing a refreshment. 

Making your way to the bar your legs come to a sudden halt at the sight of a familiar figure slouched on a stool. After your brief shock shifted into a brewing irritation, your feet found themselves mobile again as you sidle next to Rust and order yourself another drink. He put out his cigarette as soon as you were near his side but made no motion to speak so you find yourself shooting first.

“For a place you couldn’t bother gettin’ the name right of you can color me surprised to see you here.”

“A man ain’t allowed to drink after work?” Is his flat reply. 

You put your hands up in mock defense, “No need for my permission. Just didn’t think you’d grace the simpletons ‘round here when you can have a drink for free and in peace in the comforts of your own home.” 

Rust didn’t have anything to say to that, instead lifting his own drink to his lips, “That man sure had a grip on ya. Doesn’t seem the type you’d to give the time of day to. Less’ you’re that compelled to blow off steam.” 

The thinly veiled nonchalance of his insult didn’t go past you. Instead, it caused you to bristle only in the way you could when you had a few drinks in you, a bit more sensitive and a helluva lot more confrontational. Who was he to judge how you spend your time? Let alone who the hell you spend it with? You set your new drink down with more force than necessary and felt your face starting to get hot. 

“I can dance with just about anybody.”

“That’s been made clear.”

“And why in god’s name do you care exactly just who it is I dance with?”

“Don't remember ever givin' the implication that I quite cared.” Calculated blue flitted over you as if bored. But you knew better.

“I’m sorry, did you just come here to make me out to be some desperate whore for drinkin’ and dancin’ when I’m a grown-” That got his expression to fall with something closely resembling alarm. 

“That ain’t-”

“Last I checked I can do whatever I so fuckin’ please. Do not go insertin’ yourself in the aspects of my life in which you are not fuckin’ concerned. Some of us are lonely and tired and can’t take comfort in stupid murder manuals or severe stretches of solitude. Call it my shitty programmin’ but that’s just how it is for most people. If I wanna drink and let a greaseball feel me up then that’s entirely up to me! Shit, it might be dumber than hell but it’s not like I’m gonna sit and wait around for you to make a move! That’s if you even feel a speck of the way I’m startin’ to towards you. Knowin’ you you’ve probably noticed and just like to see me embarrassed or somethin’.”

 Everything was coming out like one big bout of word vomit. There was an even deeper change in Rust’s demeanor but you were too tipsy and too angry to pay much notice. The burning behind your eyes grew stronger as you threw up a finger to jab at his shoulder,

“It is not up to you to judge people for the shit they do that you deem is beneath you every chance you get. You’re not perfect yourself and I know you know it. But thanks anyway for making me feel like a fuckin’  stupid loser-” Your heated rant was interrupted by a fat mitt of a hand making its way around your waist. 

“This fella botherin’ you, honey?” The hot whiskey-riddled breath of Tex or Lex or whoever the fuck immediately made your nose wrinkle in disgust. Your patience had run its due course for the night as you roughly shoved him off you,

“Oh come off it, Dex-”

“It’s Rex.”

“I don’t care no more I’m leavin’.” You threw a couple bills on the bar’s surface before making your move past both the offending men. Rex had different ideas and made the choice of gripping your arm tightly without much remorse despite your loud protest. 

“You still owe me a dance, bitch. Where d’ya think you’re goin-”

“You best get your hands off her, boy.” Rust’s glare was off-putting even to you. Rex was either too stupid or too drunk to really care as he attempted to yank you back towards him. With your heart racing, all you could think to do was take your heel-adorned food and stomp on his booted one hard. The short bastard yelped as he let you go, giving you the room to skirt past him far enough just in time for Rust to take him by the collar and send him reeling with a swift punch.   

Rex surprisingly regained momentum and took his chance to get a lick back at Rust but his opponent was already plenty steps ahead of him. Rust took Rex’s fist, twisting it behind the shithead’s back, and slammed his head into the bar countertop with a sick thud. A commotion had well enough formed by now and it was your obvious cue to start hustling your way out. Rust spit on the man who now had made a home on the sticky floorboards before turning to you. Your chest was heaving as you made way to open your mouth but he wouldn’t hear it as he grabbed your arm and started leading you out. 

The bar doors slammed open and the persistently thick air of the South drove you further into rage. You yanked your arm a few times until finally freeing yourself from his clutches. He didn’t stop to acknowledge you, instead making his way toward his truck as if expecting you to faithfully trail behind.

“Where exactly do you get off?!” You demanded, struggling to keep up in your heels which then had you electing to nearly fall over yourself trying to rip them off.

No answer.

“I’m talkin’ to you! What the hell is wrong with you?” Your feet were finally free on the warm pavement of the parking lot. You still received no reply.

“RUSTIN.” Your throat nearly felt raw at the volume of your hollering. He stopped at his truck’s passenger door and opened it. The blood in your veins thrummed while your head and heart felt like they were going to burst out of their respective places. 

“Get in the truck.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“You’re drunk-”

“You ain't one to talk. Don’t think I ain’t seen those bottles of cough syrup in your car or them pill bottles you got! I’ll make it just fine-"

“Y/n.” His low baritone left no room for argument, nor did his hard stare. You felt like a petulant child staring back at him with your arms crossed. 

Your will to break was unshakeable but you had the inclination that if you pushed him hard enough he’d have you in that passenger seat even if you came kicking and screaming. Huffing out a harsh breath you half stomped your way over and climbed in. Grabbing the handle for yourself you slammed the door before he had the chance to close it for you. You felt a lick of petty satisfaction when you saw his shoulders drop and a hand come up to squeeze the back of his neck. It wasn’t often you could catch Rust off-guard, let alone see him visibly exasperated.

After a moment or two, he rounded his way to the driver’s side and got inside with noticeably less ruckus than you did. He lit a cigarette as he pulled out of the parking lot, but not before rolling down the window in consideration of you. Bastard. 

“My car better find its way back into my damn driveway come morning.” 

He remained silent for the rest of the way.

Back to the present…

Pulling up to your house, the truck hadn’t even made a complete stop before you unbuckled and hastily hopped on out. You only stumbled a bit as the old Ford squeaked behind you in what was probably the harsh fashion in which Rust must’ve slammed on his brakes at your sudden escape. You heard the truck get thrown into park and a heavy slam of a door shutting as you quickened your pace up the pathway to your front porch. Your heaving breaths were drowned out by the frogs and nearby cicadas that created their own little symphony on your property. You knew Rust was following you but you naively hoped you’d make it up to shut the door in his face just in time. 

'Fuck, I forgot my shoes.’ Was your narrow thought as you fumbled for your key ring in the endless depths of your purse. Rust’s footsteps grew closer causing you to whip around and shove him back with a clumsy force much to his surprise. 

“Don’t you come followin’ me! I’ve had just about enough of you!”

“Listen-”

“No you listen! Never have I been more embarrassed than you’ve made me tonight. Never have I felt more stupid and small all because you decided today was the day I’d be on the shit end of your scathing criticisms! You can fuck right off with that mess. I’m goin’ to bed.” You turned to start your trek before he spoke up again,

“My intentions were not to come by and make you feel stupid.”

A near-jarring laugh clawed its way from your system, “Oh, so that’s your twisted way of makin’ a girl feel cared for. Is that it?” 

He let out a frustrated sound, “What’d you mean by startin’ to feel a certain way towards me. Back at the bar.”

Your heart nearly dropped out of your ass just then. Did you really blab on about that somewhere in the middle of your tirade? God, you could just about go feed yourself to the gators right now. Work would no doubt be complete hell after this nightmare of an outing.

“Take it how you want it. I know with you being as perceptive as you are it shouldn’t come as a mystery what I might feel. You do plenty towards me that’s had me foolishly thinkin’ there could be a one in a million chance of somethin’ but no dice. So what I want to know is why did you follow me out. Why did you come all this way to ruin my night.” 

The silence was biting as he offered up no explanation. He seemed to be trying to figure out that answer himself. Instead of the petty satisfaction you felt from seeing him at a loss earlier, he seemed well and truly bothered now which left a sinking feeling in your gut. The thought of the immovable force in front of you being this bothered when it came to matters involving you just made you all the more disoriented. There was only one other plausible explanation as to why he went through all this trouble to insert himself into the mix. 

You could almost fall to your knees laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of your creeping realization. It couldn’t be. There was just no way. But given the miserable look of Rust’s obvious inner battle on what he should decide to say to you had you gawking. 

The man was jealous. Rustin Cohle, feeler of nothing and believer of none, was jealous. A fit of giggles made their way out of you before you could help it. It might’ve been in poor taste during the seriousness of the moment between you both but you couldn’t stop. Rust seemed all the more distressed as if he’d been caught red-handed. Stripped bare in front of you despite no real accusation of his behavior being made quite yet. 

“If I knew any better I’d say you were plain jealous, Rust. Can’t say I see you bein’ capable of actin’ so irrationally. I thought entertainin’ such primal notions was too beneath you. Especially should it involve lil ol’ me.”

But he was indeed more than susceptible to all the irrational factors of his so-called programming when it came to you. You were beautiful. Mind, body, and soul. Your presence brought things to the surface he didn’t believe he could ever have the experience of feeling again. It scared him shitless. Having to face what was making his old tired heart beat into a lively rhythm again after convincing himself things of that nature were abysmally futile. Even as you stood in front of him now, with eyes and hair looking something fiercely wild, feet bare and dirtied from your lack of shoes in that high-cut black ensemble you had on. He absolutely knew that he couldn’t bring himself to deny what his programming was demanding of him when it came to the unknowing hold you had over him. Flexing his shaking fingers as if to render them steady he took a slow approach to you. 

This was a moment where you had neither the sense nor the imagination to anticipate what he’d do next. It was as if your heart had forgotten how to keep itself beating. This was the closest you had found yourself in his proximity. Being able to see every fine detail of the tragically beautiful man in front of you could have left you speechless for the rest of your days.

A large, calloused hand came to cup your jaw then the other followed. Both nearly took up the entire sides of your face, and their warmth made you feel as if you were on fire. His grip was firm… more so intenful if you were to put a name to it. Eyes searched each other in the most tortuously bated moment you’d ever found yourself being victim to. If you were to move an inch or look away the spell might be broken forever and you think you might just collapse if that were to happen. When had you gotten this dramatic?

Kiss me. God, kiss me. Just kiss me. You thought over and over as if willing it into his mind. Then, as if he heard you through some unspoken link, he did. 

It was like being let in on one big universal secret that couldn’t be fathomed by most. Never had you thought a kiss could wield as much power as Rust’s did. For being such a hard and withdrawn individual, the feeling of his slightly chapped lips on your plush ones felt nothing short of soul-bearing and endlessly warm. Trailing your hands up his broad chest, the quick pitter-pattering of his heart didn’t go past you. Drawing your palms up further you reach to lace deft fingers into the sandy waves that you’d secretly been aching to touch for a while now. His breath faltered as you pulled back for a brief moment. It wasn’t long before the invisible magnet between you both had you returning for more. 

The kiss turned more intense, bodies pressing and molding into each other as if you could become one entity. His tongue traced the seams of your lips and you had no qualms with letting him invade your senses further. The need for air was becoming harder to ignore but no force on earth could rip you away. The desire for him was something you’d not felt for another person in you’re not sure how long. If not ever. His breath held traces of the Lonestar he’d been cradling and the cigarette he’d deeply pulled on the way here and it had you absolutely hooked as it curled into your mouth. You didn’t know how long the pair of you stood on your porch necking like a bunch of desperate teenagers but by the time he pulled away you felt dizzy at the sight of his flushed complexion and swollen lips. Possessiveness gripped your being at the thought of being able to have such an effect on him. You. No one else. 

Rust’s grip loosened on your heated face as he planted one last sweet kiss on you before stepping away entirely. It was a shock that you had any remaining strength to keep yourself upright. His expression seemed a bit more relaxed, a bit too casual for what just transpired. There was a brief pause. 

“Don’t go out dancin’ anymore.” 

With that, he turned and made his slow descent back to his truck. Snapping out of your daze once the words sunk into the crevices of your Rust-drunk brain you quirked a brow, 

 “If that’s your odd way of layin’ claim on me I think I’m gonna need to ask for a more straightforward redo, mister.” 

You saw his shoulders shake slightly in amusement as the night found itself ending on a more playful albeit confusing note, “G’night, y/n.”

“I’m bein’ serious, Rust. You can’t just kiss a girl like that then waltz on out. I have questions.” You pointed.    

 “I’ll see ya tomorrow.” The cowboy gave a slight wave and then got into his truck. Oh, you could wipe that subtly growing smirk right off his stupid face. His dry sense of humor made its presence known at what you thought was the most inopportune of times. You stood there watching his truck disappear into the night, the ghost of him sticking to you like molasses. Your fingertips graced your buzzing lips and you could’ve started giggling again like some schoolgirl. How ridiculous indeed. 

You were so not letting any of this go when you got into work tomorrow.

[jaylver]

BACK TO DECEMBER — P.JS

synopsis: finding closure by meeting your ex somehow only brought you back to the night in december where you broke his heart. it was then you realised how much you wished to go back and fix everything, but you can’t. 

pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader

genre: angst, exes (to friends?), pining, slight rekindling

warning(s): none

wc: 1.3k

a/n: happy december! it's going to be a depressive december where i write angsty christmas related stuff AHAHA. hope you'd enjoy this one! apologies in advance for any mistakes since i wrote this in one shot lawl. as always, please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

December. 

The blinding white snow and festive season all around that should’ve given you comfort only haunted you. The cold air didn’t compare to the feeling of how your heart felt as you stood outside the cafe. A scarf wrapped around your neck wasn’t enough to stop you from shaking a little, not knowing if it was the nerves or the cold.

The sound of the bell clinking signalled your appearance in the cafe. Warmth spread through you at once, the cheery atmosphere inside was the contrary to the chilliness outside, and it somehow made you feel a little more relieved. However, not completely relieved when you stepped closer to the table where he sat., eventually standing in front of him, watching him slowly looking up from his phone.

“Jong Seong,”

Your past lover stared back at you, the look on his face was indescribable. He seemed as if he had seen a ghost, most likely the ghost of his past. He was still the same, almost unchanging excluding the slight difference in hairstyle. It was the same as seeing him on your last night together. 

“Y/N, hey,” he visibly swallowed, the grip on his phone also tightening. 

You sat on the chair opposite him, noticing a cup of coffee already ordered and placed in front of you. Jay might’ve realised the look of confusion on your face, offering an explanation. “I ordered a latte for you. It’s your go-to order anyway,”

“Oh,” You paused. He remembered your order. After those times, he still kept them in mind. How could he? “Thank you, I’ll pay you—”

“It’s on me, don’t worry,” The same words he would say every time he bought you coffee, the exact actions where he waved his hands and shook his head. They were all identical.

“Alright. Thank you, again,” you managed a small smile, suddenly wishing you hadn’t asked him to meet you in the first place. “I’m so glad you made time to see me,”

“It’s no problem. I’m back to visit my family anyway, I’ll be free,” the fact that he had moved away and gotten another job in a different city right after your break up would always pinch your heart. He had never said anything about leaving, so why did he? Was it because of you?

You nodded briefly, excusing the nightmarish thoughts from your mind. “So, how’s life? Tell me,”

“I’ve been good, busier than ever,”

“Finally settled in?”

“Quite. Not all there yet,” he winced a little, shrugging his shoulders. “You?”

“Not much. Everything’s almost like before,”

‘Before’ was enough for Jay to get the hint. Just the word alone was able to speak more than it should have, causing a sense of solemn settling in the cold evening air. 

You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “How’s your family? I haven't seen them in a while,”

“They’re great! Mum and dad are both healthy, they’re the same as ever,”

There it was. The same hint of the past.

The conversation soon rolled into a certain dullness, awkwardness present and apparent. Small talks about work and the weather, you could tell his guard was up, and you knew why. It was because the last time he saw you was still burned in the back of your mind, the time when everything came crashing down.

Once the coffee was drained from your cup, you knew it was most likely time to part ways. You’ve said what you said, you saw his face, unknowingly getting closure in the process. But was it longing that pulled at your heartstrings when you locked eyes with him? His saccharine eyes brought back memories and comfort, the feeling close to home. 

The snow was falling outside when you and him exited the cafe. It was time to part ways, once again. You had your hand wrapped around yourself, and Jay had his hands tucked in the pockets of his coat. The sight of it reminded you of the countless winters you’ve had together, standing at the exact spot, by the entrance of the cafe where you shared your favourite hot coffees at. 

“I’m sorry,”

Confusion turned into hurt, Jay came to term about the meaning behind your sudden burst of an apology. It seemed that he hadn’t let go of it either. There you were, swallowing your pride, facing the man you loved.

“I’m sorry for that night,” the night where you left his roses to wilt and eventually did the same to him as well. 

It was a mistake to have treated him like that, but how could you blame yourself? You were selfish, you had to be, you had to do all it takes to achieve your dreams and breaking the heart of the man you loved was what it took. 

You hated December. If you had the chance, you would go back to the time somewhere in December a few years back to rewrite your mistakes, because it turns out freedom was nothing but missing him. Stupid you were, wishing you’d realised what you had when he was yours. 

Jay heaved a sigh, the air condensing into a mist. “Thank you. I’m sorry too.”

That’s when you knew if you could, you’d go back to December all the time, turn it around and make it alright.

You were haunted, plagued by him. 

Agreeing to an early Christmas party invite shouldn’t have been a regret until you saw his face appearing there, realising that you two shared mutual friends too. In the end, you’d always be connected some way or another, it was inevitable considering having history together.

You wished you were lying when you said you haven’t been sleeping well ever since seeing him that day in the cafe. Staying up and playing back the moment of yourself leaving, the piercing feeling of regret keeping you awake. 

You recalled the start of the year when his birthday rolled around and you cursed yourself for remembering, just like how you remembered everything else about him. His birthday passed, and you didn’t call. For the first time, you weren’t the first to wish him ‘happy birthday’.

It was then you thought about summer, all the beautiful times. You could picture everything perfectly, every second spent together and the littlest details of them all. One that stuck out most was you watching him laughing from the passenger side, the same time where you realised you had fallen in love completely and undeniably. 

That was until the cold came and the dark days when fear crept into your mind. He had given you all his love, but all you did was give him a ‘goodbye’.

Now, as you stared at him from afar, not missing the sparks shining in his irises and the curves of his lips, you finally grasped the unceremonious fact that you missed him, utterly and shamefully so. 

You missed his tan skin, his sweet smile, the way he has always been so good and so right to you. It all brought you back to that September night, when he held you in his arms, letting you cry into his shirt. It was the first time he ever saw you cry, and you allowed yourself to be fully transparent with him.

It was wishful thinking, probably mindless dreaming, having him in your thoughts and missing him, but you let yourself feel after a long time. You’d go back in time to change it, yet, alas you couldn’t.

You swore, if you and him loved again, you’d love him right. But now, if the key to his heart had changed, you’d understand.

His gaze travelled over to you, unintentionally locking with your eyes. Longing and sadness clung onto the connection between the both of you, but all you could do was nothing. 

Take me back to December.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

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[comatosebunny09]

He’s exhausted.

Of that much, you are sure. His languid suckling on your neck serves as a gauge for it.

“It must be hard running Hotel Transylvania in the Underdark,” you muse from your side. There’s humor tinging your voice, mingled with the crisp flipping of a page.

Exasperation lives in his once he reluctantly retracts his fangs. “I swear, if I have to pull another spawn off a gnome, I will spear them all on pikes.”

“Awful ‘Vlad the Impaler’ of you.”

Astarion snorts, the cool rush of it tickling your damp skin. “Gods below. One could only dream of being that demented.”

“Yeah, well. We both know you love the others too much to hurt them.”

“Mm, I beg to differ.”

Astarion hums, and you feel it spool in your stomach. Affectionately, he noses the outer shell of your ear. Electricity shoots like pins and needles to the crease of your thighs when he nips you. And the little jolt your body gives draws a husky chuckle from him.

You find the contents of your book no longer interesting; your attention is diverted to the hand on your hipbone.    

Astarion drifts in and out of sleep, waking every so often to suckle on your neck like a sleepy newborn.

At some point, you awaken to him rutting against you.

“Astarion.” Your voice holds an edge to it—a warning.

“What?” You can practically hear the pout taking residence in his voice. “It’s been ages since I’ve last felt you.”

He mouths the curve of your shoulder whilst an artful hand bunches up your nightshirt, seeking the supple glide of your hip beneath.

You snort, snapping your book shut. Shift the slightest to cast him a humored look over your shoulder. “Ages? Ages, Astarion? You mean just last night?”

“Ages,” he solidifies into the space behind your ear. Goosebumps ignite in the wake of his breath cooling your skin. “A day without your body cradled to mine feels like an eternity, my love.”

You roll your eyes at his theatrics. Can you really fault him? Time moves differently here in the Underdark—if it moves at all. The absence of the sun has thrown your circadian clock entirely off-kilter. For all you know, he may very well have suffered eons without you.

“Please,” croons Astarion, trailing wet kisses down your nape. His hand continues on an excursion southward, kneading the fat of your thigh. It craters between his fingers as he squeezes the inner slope of it, and you bite your lip to ward off a growl. “I only need a taste.”

Somehow, you doubt that. It’s never just a taste with your love, now is it? But his begging is enough to coax a resigned sigh from your lips. Surely, you’ll regret this later.

“Fine,” you relent after tucking your novel beneath the pillow.

You yip as the world pivots and wooshes, and suddenly, you are on your back. You giggle as he climbs overtop you. Have all of five seconds to catch the boyish gleam of his eyes before he dives in to sample the skin of your throat.

Instinctively, you bury ten fingers in curls of white. And how sweet your voice sounds, pinched from your lungs in a whimper as you feel the searing graze of his fangs on your neck. Your breath hitched in anticipation; every nerve in your body trained on him. However, the prick of his fangs never comes.

Instead, they continue their journey southward, past your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, towards your navel…

How prettily you arch against him, a sultry laugh parting your lips.

He disappears between your legs, tenderly kissing your thighs, dragging his lips toward the folds of your labia. Each kiss he delivers makes your hips twitch delightfully, seeking the wet contact of his mouth like a beacon.

He groans something pleased between your legs, kissing your lower lips before his tongue parts your labia in wet, languid strokes.

Instinctively, your hands fly to his hair. Your lip snags between your teeth as you bite them against a smile. You arch your body into him. He groans appreciatively, anchoring your hips down to the bed. The lewd, wet sounds he makes between your legs make you flutter.

“Delicious,” he hums between each stroke of his tongue. A supplication to the Gods for supplying him such a grand feast.

[theewokingdead]

F My...Tonsils? - Benny Miller x wife!Reader

Pairing: Benny Miller x wife!Reader (1st Person POV; Benergy Universe) Summary: Benny is attractive despite the ridiculous things that come out of his mouth. Word Count: 600+ Rating: No rating but my blog is 18+ Warnings: 1st person POV, Language, Allusions to oral Notes: Things were changed, but this was inspired by a legitimate exchange between me and my husband. As always, Benergy is a collection of one-shots so this can be read without having read anything else.

Main Masterlist | Benergy Series Masterlist

“Boom!” Benny leaps to his feet as he slams his last Uno card onto the table. “Suck my dick!” He gestures to the area in case I’ve forgotten where his dick resides, despite the fact that the two children sleeping above should make it clear I know.

Typical Benny.

I pretend to be annoyed, rolling my eyes while I gather the pile of cards, seeming to ignore the fact that he’s now strutting around the dining room like a peacock showing off his plumage. Secretly, I watch him out of the corner of my eye, trying to hide the smile that's creeping up on my face as I realize how much I enjoy his playful antics.

“You wish,” I mumble. I shuffle the deck, waiting for him to settle down to see if he wants to continue or call it a night. We've been playing games for hours while eating snacks, chatting, and joking around – our little date night with kids when we don't have a sitter. It's not always easy balancing parenthood and romance, but nights like these make it all worth it. We share many laughs, teasing and taunting each other, just having fun and enjoying each other’s company.

“No, you wish,” Benny retorts, and I raise an eyebrow in response, curious as to where he’s going to take this conversation. He places his hands on the table and leans forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You wish I was touching your tonsils right now.”

My face twists in shock, unable to believe he just said that. I don’t know if I’m more stunned by his words or the fact he thinks it’s even possible.

Fuck…why is the thought of that so hot? Benny deep in my throat…chocking on his-

I try to compose myself and respond, “You know I don’t have tonsils, right?” But deep down, I can feel my cheeks burning and my heart racing. As much as I try to deny it, there's something about Benny that I can never resist. Maybe it's his sense of humor or his confidence, but I find myself drawn to him more and more each day.  

Benny isn’t thrown off by my response. He simply smirks and says, “That’s how deep I’d be. I’d touch the ghost of your tonsils.”

Jesus Christ. I can’t help but pinch the bridge of my nose and, for a moment, reconsider all of my life choices. My mind races with conflicting thoughts and emotions. Part of me thinks he is such an idiot while another part of me is so incredibly turned on by him.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Before I can fully process my thoughts, Benny walks to where I’m sitting, tips my chin up, and kisses me, sending a rush of desire through my body. I melt into the kiss, my hands finding their way to the back of his neck as I pull him closer. It's like every nerve in my body is on fire, and I can't get enough of him. But as quickly as the kiss started, it ends, and Benny pulls away with a smirk on his face.

“I knew you couldn't resist me," he says, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

Once more, I roll my eyes, trying to hide the fact that he’s right.

“You're insufferable,” I reply, but there's a hint of laughter in my voice. I rise from my chair and push past him, heading toward the stairs that lead to our bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he questions, and I feel his gaze following me.

“Upstairs to perform a séance to see if the ghosts of my tonsils want to get fucked tonight.” I stop and turn to look down at him, seeing that he hasn't moved. "You coming or not?"

[starlight-write]

Tickletober Day 3- Cuddles

Requests: OPEN :)

Summary: All Jirou wanted was to spend a nice night watching movies with her boyfriend. Everything goes well until Kaminari starts to tickle her out of the blue. Now she has to teach her boyfriend a lesson.

Pairing: Ler!Jirou x Lee!Kaminari (Romantic)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm not going to ask you again. Stop."

"I told you, I'm not doing anything!"

Kaminari was really getting on her last nerve. But what else did she expect from her hyperactive boyfriend when she made him sit down for an extended period of time? All she had wanted to do was to snuggle up next to her boyfriend while they binged horror movies while they both had a night to themselves. But of course it could never be that simple.

The two of them sat bundled up on Jirou's bed while flashes of light and corny screams burst from the TV. Jirou sat content in Denki's lap with his arms wrapped around her waist and they stayed like that for the better half of the film until Kaminari got the bright idea to annoy his girlfriend by prodding and pinching her stomach every few minutes.

"I know what you're doing you bastard. Now cut it oUT!-" She yelped as he poked her belly once again. She grabbed his wrists and turned to face him with a huff. Only to be met with a bright, innocent, and fake smile. The little shit.

"Do it again. See what happens." She said, still keeping her grip on his wrists.

That was all the invitation the boy needed as he quickly tried to twist his wrists out of the girls hold as they lurched towards her stomach once again. But Jirou had had enough of his antics and decided it was time to teach her boyfriend a lesson.

She had jumped out of his lap and tugged both of his wrists towards her causing the electric hero to fall face first onto the mattress. The boy let out a small yelp as he quickly tried to turn around and fight off his attacker but it was too late as the girl had already positioned herself on his lower back, effectively pinning him in place.

She watched him struggle for a few moments. Doing everything in his power to try to get free but it was no use. "Baaaabe c'mon I was just messing around! Get off, pleeeease?" He tried begging even though he knew it wouldn't help his case in the slightest.

"I tried to warn you but you just couldn't keep your hands to yourself could you? All I wanted was a nice night with my boyfriend but no. You just. Had. To keep. Poking. Me."

Every phrase uttered was emphasized with harsh pokes to the boys sides. He let out a squeak as he shot his arms down to protect himself and buried his face into the mattress.

"I'm sohohohorryyyyyy! I promise I wohohon't do it again." He pleaded as he giggled into the covers.

"Nope. Too late for that. Now you're just going to have to suffer." She said as she wormed two of her fingers under his arms. The boy let out a loud squeal as he squirmed underneath her.

"Wait! Wahahahahahahahahit! Stohohohohohohop! This isn't fair, pleahehehehehehehese!" The boy wailed as he tried to squeeze his arms to his sides but only succeeded in trapping his girlfriend's evil fingers under his arms.

She leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "Uh uh. You brought this upon yourself. You wanted to play this game and lost. Now you're going to have to deal with the consequences."

"But- But I- AH! Jirou NO! No Stohohohohohohohohop ihihihihihhiht! HahahahahHAHAHAHAHA."

His laughter grew in pitch as Jirou had suddenly started fluttering her fingers all across his neck. Causing the boy to thrash below her as he brought his arms up to grab her hands hoping to escape the unbearably ticklish feeling.

He succeed and tried to pull her hands away as he tried to catch his breath only to be sent into a hysterical fit once more as the girl blew a giant raspberry on the back of his neck.

"AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA JIROU-! JI-STOHOHOHOHOP!!!" The boy wailed and lost his grip on the offending hands as he thrashed and kicked and twisted and bucked. Jirou had just used her freed hands to hold his head in place as she placed another agonizing raspberry in the exact same spot.

"Please! PLEHEHEHEHASE! NO MORE! NO MOHOHOHORE!" After a few more seconds she finally lifted her head away from her screaming boyfriend. Rubbing his back gently as she allowed him to catch his breath.

"Thahahahat- thahahat was uncalled for." The boy complained and took another shaky breath as he brought his hands up to cover his burning face.

"I honestly forgot how ticklish your neck is." She giggled. "Guess I should keep that in mind from now on, huh?" She said as she smiled down at him.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Let me up." The boy said with a pout.

"Hmmmm not yet." Denki could hear the evil smile in her voice and automatically tensed up again. Jirou got up for just a moment. Pressing her hand on her boyfriend's back so he wouldn't get any ideas about escaping as she repositioned herself to face his legs.

"There's just one more thing I have to do before we're done."

Kaminari froze at her words. He already knew what was about to happen and he nervously started kicking and thrashing once more to avoid his fate.

"WAIT! WAIT- Babe. Babe Please! Please don't I'm serious! I'll stop okay? I'll do whatever you want just hold ON- AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA-"

"Damn right you will." She said with a smirk as she continued to ruthlessly scribble her nails on the backs of his knees.

Kaminari's laughter had gone silent rather quickly. He desperately thrashed and kicked around but it did him no good and he eventually resigned to pounding on the bed furiously as he lost himself in his hysterics.

"PLEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA- STAHAHAHA- STAHAHAAAAAAAAAA-"

Jirou finally took that as a sign to stop. She lifted herself up off of the giggly mess on her bed and laid down next to him.

Kaminari tried hiding his bright red face behind his hands once more but they were pulled away as Jirou planted a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"You okay?"

The electric boy took in a few more giggly breaths before answering. "No! Yohohou almost kihihihilled me!"

"Oh hush. I wouldn't tickle you so often if you didn't like it." The girl said, giving him a sweet smile.

The boy huffed and buried his face in the covers. "Yeah, whatever."

Jirou just rolled her eyes and gave an amused huff in return before sitting up and collecting her boyfriend in her arms.

"C'mon doofus. Let's finish this dumb movie." She said as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "And no more funny business, got it?"

Denki just sighed as he snuggled into her embrace. Smiling as he rested his head on her shoulder. "Got it."

[kylobith]

Whiskey is the Only Spirit I Believe In (Bones x Fem!OC)

Summary: After a long day of work, Bones just wants to sit down and relax with a glass of fine whiskey. But being accused of having stolen it was not in his plans.

Trope: Plotless, banter, Grumpy Bones™

Word count: 860

Read on AO3 here.

‘Just admit that you stole it.���

Bones gasps in offence, his contestation nothing more than an incomprehensible gargle stuck in his throat. The eternal crease on his brow deepens as his disgruntled demeanor shifts into sheer annoyance. He gives a curt shake of his head, waving his free hand next to the whiskey bottle in his grasp.

‘For the hundredth time, I did not,’ he responds with flared nostrils, exaggerating each syllable.

Liz narrows her eyes at his assurance, cranes her neck to stare into his soul as though she possessed the power to peruse it at will. He raises an eyebrow at her insistence, pushing the cork back into the damp neck.

All he wanted was a quiet night in with a comforting glass of spirit, basking in healing silence with his partner. Was that too much to ask? After hours patching up an engineer, not even sure that he would make it, draining his energy to think of any alternatives should his attempts fail, he is beyond exhausted. Much to his relief, his patient survived, albeit in a poor state, but his life is no longer in danger. Soon enough, when he will be able to regain some autonomy, Bones will need to arrange the process of sending the engineer home. Life in space is no longer an option; perhaps San Francisco would have use of him still. He hopes so.

But none of the hardships of the day matters, it seems. Liz is in a mood. An accusatory one, it seems.

‘Liz, listen, it’s been a long day, why don’t you cut it to the chase and tell me why you’re so absolutely sure that I stole the bottle?’

‘Well,’ she says, wiping the crumbs of her biscuits off the table, then her hand on her dress, ‘I know that you’ve had a light hand in the past when it comes to Chekov’s stash.’

‘So? We went back to SF not even a month ago, I bought my own stash then. I’m not an alcoholic; I didn’t drink all the bottles since then.’

Liz shrugs, visibly unimpressed. Her hand seeks her recently repaired communicator and examines the material for scratches or traces of the break. Bones shoves his glass away from him with two fingers, astonished by her nonchalance. Why is she like this? He loves her, he does. But being the target of baseless accusations—no matter how insignificant—toys with his nerves in a most irritating fashion. Especially after a day like this.

‘Liz, please. I don’t have the patience for that today.’

‘I didn’t see you bring any bottles from Earth last time we went. Chekov is a sweetheart, but he will eventually be pissed at you if you keep stealing his alcohol.’

‘I didn’t—’

‘Why do you even need this alcohol?’

That is too much to bear. He pushes his chair back, pinching his lips painfully tight, and rises. If he cannot have peace with his partner, then he will seek it somewhere else.

‘That’s it. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’m tired and I don’t need to be accused of something I didn’t do. You can think I’m an alcoholic all you want, I don’t care.’

Before he can leave, Liz catches his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

‘And for the record,’ he continues after taking a steadying breath, ‘I only stole from Chekov twice. Twice. And I always paid him back for the bottles, I’m not an asshole.’

‘I’m sorry, Lennie,’ she murmurs. ‘I know it’s been a hard day.’

Bones squints his eyes at her and leans his hip against his chair.

‘You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t ya? Accusing me, for shits and giggles. Does that amuse you?’

A smile breaks through her stern composure, allowing Bones to breathe and relax some of the tension in his body.

‘I just love your little dimples when you’re pissed,’ she confesses. ‘I need my fill of them.’

He sweeps his discarded glass off the table and dips his lips into the amber-colored liquid within at long last.

‘You’re impossible.’

‘Yes, but you love me for it. We’re Len & Lez after all.’

The absurdity of her remark contorts his traits into one of partial disgust.

‘Oh god, what a dork. I didn’t sign up for that ridiculous name. I should kick you off the ship for your own good.’

‘You wouldn’t.’

‘Yeah, well, I didn’t get through a divorce to be treated like that.’

‘Like me finding you handsome no matter what?’

Bones gazes at her from above his glass, and his severe eyes soften at once. How could he remain angry at her? She has always been one to tease him, but never to hurt him or diminish his feelings or temper, however short it may be. While he does believe that she went a tad too far tonight, she largely compensates for it with her apology and her bright, doe eyes. How beautiful she looks, he thinks. Perhaps he should tell her more often; he has never been much of a compliment giver.

So, he simply smirks and sips his whiskey.

‘Something like that.’

Taglist: @emmanuellececchi

[eomayas]

new thing (pt. 5) • pcy

pairing: chanyeol x f!reader, established relationship

genre: angst

synopsis: reader meets chanyeols friends and family, and an unexpected guest changes the course of the night.

warnings: heavy angst. reader and chanyeol have a fight. lots of crying and mixed emotions

a/n: about 2 more chapters before i call this series good. sorry for the ending it’s kinda trash but i wanted to hurry and post thissss. thx for sticking with me 💕

series masterlist

giggling, you push chanyeols hand away from the band of your underwear and turn your body away from him. “yeolie, stop, we’re gonna be late,” you say, but it falls on deaf ears. he reaches for you again, snaking an arm around your waist and pressing your half naked body against his.

“so what?” he mutters, bending down to kiss your neck. you don’t let yourself fall for his touch, and instead pull away from him again. “baby!” he whines, drawing you back into his embrace. you let out a breath and decide to indulge in his clingy behavior, because let’s be real: you love it. you like him all over you and when he can’t stand to be anywhere else but up under you, his hands always touching you.

“i dont want to be late,” you say as he pushes you against the bathroom counter. you let him lift you up and wedge himself between you legs, his teeth gently biting your skin. “and you are not going to give me a big ass hickey before i meet your brother and friends!” you pinch his side and he pulls back with a groan, frowning at you. showing up to meet his friends and family with a giant bruise on your neck was a sure way to leave a lasting impression that you weren’t ready for.

he pouts at you and you can’t help but smile. “don’t mock me,” chanyeol says, resting his large hands on your thighs. you quickly intertwine his fingers with yours so he doesn’t get any ideas and try to delay your leaving. “i’ll be quick.” he tries to reason, and you just raise your eyebrows.

“sure you will,” you roll your eyes and he shakes your intertwined hands.

“just the tip, then,” chanyeol says and you can’t help it when you burst out laughing.

“oh my god! how old are you?” now chanyeol rolls his eyes, though it was a childish suggestion that he’s too grown for. “you’re so horny today.” you tease and he sighs loudly, making you smile.

“you’re mine later,” chanyeol states, big doe eyes looking down at you. you kiss the back of his hand and nod.

“always,” you say and his eyes soften as he practically melts in your grasp. chanyeols cheeks flush pink and you hold back the teasing you want to dish out for the sake of the moment. the words sit on the tip of your tongue, itching to be spoken into existence. but, of course, you hold back, your pride getting in the way. you just can’t handle the thought of him not reciprocating your feelings and not saying it back. if only you knew, though, that he definitely would say it back, would probably scream it and then put it in writing, would maybe, probably, write a song about it to really prove it to you. if only you knew, though.

a nervous smile is plastered on your face as you shake hands with his brother and cousin, sehun and jongin—who told you to call him ‘kai’—respectively. chanyeol is much different than these two, much more relaxed and not as rambunctious as them though there’s only a three year age gap between him and them. you want to joke about it, maybe call him old, but your nerves are in the way and won’t let you get comfortable.

“oh! theres kyungsoo!” sehun says, standing up and waving his arms over to chanyeols college roommate. you take a sip of your water and stand up to shake his head when he gets over to the table.

you introduce yourself to his friend and he gives you a kind smile. you learn quickly that he’s on the quieter side, but sehun gets him talking just as fast. the three of you get lost in a conversation, but you don’t miss when jongin leans behind you to whisper something to chanyeol, and you definitely don’t miss chanyeols reaction: furrowed eyebrows and wide eyes that dart to you momentarily before darting back to his cousin. the two of them excuse themselves from the table for a couple of minutes, and you almost ask him what’s going on but you don’t get the chance.

“i’m sorry, what?” you say, blinking yourself back into the moment when your name is called.

“no worries, i just asked where you went to school,” kyungsoo says with a small smile.

“oh, im still in school in the city—i graduate in the fall,” you say and you see the realization come across his face. his eyes go wide and his mouth forms a small ‘o’. kyungsoo doesn’t say anything, just glances at sehun before changing the subject.

and there goes that feeling again, the one you get where chanyeol introduces you to a new part of his world, the one you get when he calls you childish when you argue, the one that reminds you that you’re still young, not even 22 yet but are involved with a man nearly 11 years older than you. that him and his friends have fully experienced what you’ve just began to understand. that there is still a part of him that you haven’t had a full deep dive into, that you have yet to fully crack him open though you show him every piece of you.

you’re barely listening to what sehun and kyungsoo are saying, your brain elsewhere. you want chanyeol back, for him to look over at you and be able to read you from top to bottom, to see that no, you’re not enjoying yourself, not without him next to you.

sehun starts laughing next to you, and you glance over at him. he’s looking behind your head so you turn to see chanyeol, kai, and two women following them. chanyeol looks stressed out and he keeps wiping around his mouth. you don’t know what to think, until sehun says, “this should be interesting.”

your stomach drops as chanyeol only gets closer, his avoidant gaze finally falling on you and guilt overtaking his features. you manage to control your face and stand up to greet the two women. “y/n, uh, this is minji and… yunhee,” at her name your out stretched hand falters and you feel like a ridiculous prank has been pulled on you. he invited his ex wife?

somehow, you manage to choke out a curt “hello” before sitting back down. you find it hard to look away from yunhee; for starters, she’s beautiful. she has short, dark hair and eyes like chanyeol. her face is mature and slim where you still have that youthful look. she wears a wristwatch, like an adult; you wear bracelets, your left wrist void of a watch. she has a large designer purse; you left yours at home. she looks like she works a real job, at an office, and calls all the shots; you’re still trying to make it through undergrad. you can see exactly where her and chanyeol make more sense. optically, they’re perfect on paper. you and chanyeol just look ridiculous.

you’re not going to sulk in front of the entire table, so you force yourself to start asking everybody questions. minji and chanyeol know each other from undergrad because they were in the same music class. minji and yunhee are sisters. yunhee works in advertisement. you mentally take all of it down. you even see minji and kai giving each other looks that you feel like means something. but above all, you pay attention to how yunhee and chanyeol interact, and when. she’ll tell a joke, and you catch her eyes sliding over to him to see if he’s laughing. you catch her staring at him long after he’s finished talking. you even catch her glance at his left hand—ring finger empty—and your stomach roils when you look at her own left hand and see that her ring finger definitely has a band around it.

you excuse yourself abruptly, knocking into chanyeol as you get up. he looks up at you with concern, as you’ve barely said anything to him since he sat down, and didn’t grab his hand when he put it on your leg. “just going to the bathroom,” you say to him, quickly beelining to the restrooms.

once you get inside, you immediately pull your phone from your pocket and dial seulgi. you have no idea if she’s busy or not, but you’re praying for the latter as the phone rings. you can’t sit at that table for another minute. you’re uncomfortable and feel blindsided, like everybody knew she was going to be there except you.

“hello?” you sigh a breath of relief at your friends voice.

“oh my god, seulgi. are you busy?” you ask, leaning against the counter.

“no, whats up? how is the dinner going?” she asks. you don’t hold back, the words tumbling out of you quicker than you can keep track of. she listens, gasping when you tell her how his ex showed up how you feel like it was a set up. if only it were, so you could proudly go off on everybody sitting outside. “holy shit!”

“so can you please come get me? like, i’m literally about to crawl out of the bathroom window to get out of here,” you say. seulgi scoffs out a laugh and says ‘of course’, and that she’ll be there as soon as possible, before the two of you hang up.

letting out a breath, you slip your phone back into your pocket and start washing your hands though you didn’t use the restroom. the door to the restroom opens and you glance over, you spine going rigid when yunhee steps through. she looks at you through the mirror and you downcast your eyes to your hands, quickly rinsing them off and snatching paper towels out of the dispenser. “hey…” she says awkwardly, folding her hands in front of herself.

you only look at her through the mirror, stone faced. “look, i didn’t know you were going to be here either, if i’m being honest,” she says with a sigh, dropping her hands against her legs. you furrow your eyebrows, not truly grasping the weight of what she’s saying. “minji… she just said chanyeol was throwing a dinner. she begged me to go, so i did. i didn’t know you were going to be here until we got here and i saw him outside with his cousin.” yunhee admits, and you feel like throwing up. minji wanted something to happen between you and yunhee, between you and chanyeol, because there was no reason for her to lie to her own sister about her ex husbands whereabouts. she doesn’t think your relationship with chanyeol is legit—hell, none of them probably think it’s going to last. you’re just a stop along the way for him, until he goes back to her.

you swallow the lump in your throat and nod, tossing the soiled paper towels in the trash. “i can leave, if you want. i’m not the kind of person who would just… show up like that. i’m not going to lie and say i still love him, because i do, but i’m not in love with him. he’s a really good guy—he didn’t know i was coming either,” you wish she would just stop talking, but she keeps going on like it’s word vomit. you tune her out after hearing that she still loves him, your vision blurring for a second before you blink back tears.

“please, just stop,” you say, framing your face with your hands and pushing your hair back tightly enough for it to pull your skin back. you let go and let your hands fall, feeling tired and over the night. “you can stay because i’m leaving, i really don’t care what the rest of you all do tonight.” yunhee presses her lips together and you take one last look at yourself in the mirror before leaving her alone in the bathroom.

to you misfortune, you have to pass by your table in order to get out of the restaurant. there’s no way for you to sneak out without being noticed, so you pick up your last shred of dignity and march over to the table. you place a hand on chanyeols shoulder, startling him with a flinch of his shoulders. he relaxes once he sees it’s you though it doesn’t last long when he sees the look on your face. “can i talk to you real quick?” you ask quietly. he nods and stands up, grabbing your hand and letting you lead him out of the restaurant. “i’m gonna head home.” you say honestly.

chanyeols face falls. “why? what’s going on?” he asks, grabbing your other hand and tugging you close to him. you let out a breath and avoid his eyes because you feel like crying and know that you probably will if you look at him for a second too long.

“i’m just… this is not what i was expecting and it’ll just be better for me to go home,” you say, trying to pull your hands out of his grasp but chanyeol only tugs you back towards him, determined to get you to stay and work it out.

“y/n, ple- no, i’m going home,” you say sternly, cutting him off mid sentence. he sets his jaw and lets your hands fall, folding his arms across his chest.

“fine. but we’re gonna talk about this later,” he doesn’t give you much room to disagree, and you just nod. he stares down at you, trying to figure you out. “how are you getting home?” he asks.

“seulgi,” you answer. he nods and runs a hand through his hair.

“i’ll wait with you,” he says. you don’t try to argue with him and tell him that you’re fine and can stand out here alone, that you’re a grown woman. instead, you wrap your arms around your midsection to keep warm, your sweater not doing much to keep you warm.

wordlessly, chanyeol slips his jacket off and drapes it over your shoulders. you slip your arms in and revel at its warmth, mumbling a ‘thank you’ to your boyfriend.

a handful of silent minutes later, seulgis car pulls up to the curb. you unzip chanyeols jacket and hand it back to him before turning on the balls of your feet. “hey,” he says softly, reaching for your forearm. you look at him over your shoulder and let yourself be pulled when he tugs you towards him. chanyeol places a soft kiss against your lips as if to remind you that he’s not nearly as mad as you probably think he is. “i’ll see you later.” he says after he pulls away. you nod and quickly get into seulgis car, not looking back at him as she peels out of the parking lot.

you’re in your pajamas when chanyeol comes over less than an hour later. you let him in and soundlessly make your way into your bedroom, sitting on your bed while he takes your desk chair. “what happened?” chanyeol asks, getting right to the point.

“why didn’t you tell me she was coming?” you counter. he frowns at you and lightly shakes her head.

“i didnt know she was coming. by that time, it was too late.”

now it’s your turn to frown at him. “you could have told her to leave.”

“minji is her sister, and also my friend. i wasn’t going to tell her to leave when she’d already shown up. i’m sorry that she shows up unannounced, but we’re in the same boat,” you stare at him, not even what to think of what he’s saying. “what? you don’t believe me?”

“i dont know know! she told me she still loves you, so i don’t even know what to think right now,” you huff, trying to keep your voice lower so you don’t disturb seulgi.

chanyeols frown deepens. “when did she say that?”

“does it even matter?” you ask. he opens his mouth and closes it, looking down at the floor. “what, do you still love her?” it’s a stupid question with an answer you’re not sure you actually to hear, no matter what it is. you don’t know if you’re ready for it.

“y/n,” he says it like a warning, but his eyes give him away. you feel gutted, like somebody ripped out your insides and stopped all over them. tears spring to your eyes and you press the back of your hands into them to keep the tears from falling. “y/n.” he says again.

“it’s fine, chanyeol,” you sniff, pulling your hands away when you feel you’ve got your emotions under control. “it’s fine. you both feel the same, it’s whatever.” you sniff again and curse when your eyes well up for the third time tonight.

“what are you saying, y/n?” you stare at a random spot on your floor while his eyes bore holes into you. you dont like where this conversation is going, and you’ve said too much to take back.

poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue, you wipe at a stray tear that falls. “everybody thinks i’m just a stop along the way before you go back to her,” your voice cracks and opens up a dam of tears that blur your vision. “we don’t make sense compared to you and her. i’m not somebody you marry. i’m still in school, trying to figure out my life, and you already know what the world has to offer. we don’t make sense.” you’re full on crying now, folding yourself over and burying your face in your hands.

chanyeol just stares at you, heavily confused at where this is all coming from. you’ve never expressed anything like this, but if he finds out that you’ve been holding this back for months, he’s going to be pissed. “y/n, stop. why are you saying all of this?”

“because! i’m too young for you! you deserve somebody your own age—everybody thinks that!”

“i think i’ll be the judge of my own life, but alright,” he scoffs, shaking his head. chanyeol hates to see you cry, but he thinks you’re being overlydramatic. “and i don’t care what they think.” he adds.

“you fucking should, because they’re the people closest to you. and i don’t know if i can put up with being the youngest in the room every time i’m with your friends. i can literally feel the years between us.” you roughly wipe at your eyes finally look up at him. his expression is hard, one you’ve only seen a few times. you’ve finally pissed him off.

this is it, you think. this is the part where he sees where he should’ve kept you at a distance. where he sees how juvenile you really are, and where there’s truth in your words.

chanyeol digs the heels of his palms into his eyes frustratedly and drags his hands over his face. “so what do you really want, y/n? what do you want from me?” your heart rate speeds up at his tone of voice. what you really want is to restart this entire night, and for him to call you ‘baby’, or anything other than your first name.

“i dont know,” you whisper pitifully. an oh my god emits from his lips and he shakes his head. chanyeol runs his hands through his hair and tugs at the roots.

“i cant fix anything if you don’t tell me what you want,” he says, looking at your pointedly. “if all you want is for us to be closer in age, then you’re really out of luck.” you’re silent, because now that you’ve said your piece, all you’ve discovered is that you truly just needed to vent to somebody other than seulgi. and maybe doing that to your boyfriend on a particularly tense night wasn’t the smartest idea.

“i dont know,” you say again, more tears coming to your eyes and streaming down your cheeks. the room is quiet except for your sniffling and quiet whimpers. you just want him to hold you, but you’re not going to ask for that, not when you’re the cause of your own misery.

“i think… i think we should take a break, y/n. just for a little while,” all the air is sucked out of your lungs and you nearly choke at his words. between the two of you, you didn’t expect him to be the one to say that he wants to break up. “i don’t know what’s been going on, but i just want us to get back to where we were. i dont know how to help you, but maybe some time apart will be good for us.”

you feel your insides melting and your world being flipped upside down. you could be set on fire right now, and nothing would hurt you the way his words are. there’s a knife in your stomach that keeps getting twisted the more he talks, and yours mere moments away from screaming at him to stop.

you barely register him stand up and coming over to you until you’re pushing him away from you with too much force. it doesn’t do much to him, but he does feel his heart crack in half, and then into fourths and so on. he winces when you tell him to get out, but he obliges and leaves quietly.

the worst of it all was that you didn’t even get the chance to tell him how you really feel; that you love him more than you thought a human was truly capable. that he’s probably the only person you’ve ever felt this way about, and that you knew it was real when he was the first person you thought of in the morning and the last person you thought of before you went to bed. because now he’s gone, all because of you, and you’re not sure you’ll ever get the chance to tell him the truth.

[stargazers-paradise]

Lady of Light [Past event]

The prince sat alone in his bedroom; one leg crossed over the other as his feather pen scratched against the paper. Back hunched, eyebrows pinched together as he focused on finding the right things to say, trying to pen down his feelings to a proper T. He was normally very good at this, being the type of person to write poetry of his own feelings, but right now he seemed to be struggling. He gripped his pen tightly, letting out a small breath as a faint burning sensation ran up his spine and ended just at the base of his neck, causing him to stiffen his posture before turning around, locking masked eyes with a tall woman. She stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the vastness of blues and purples, a beautiful woman draped in a white dress and golden accents, her hair flowing downwards and seeming to glimmer slightly. Sun Slayer, the deity of light and justice. Stargazer relaxed once he realized who it was, his shoulders slumping as he rested his head against the top of his chair, a pout pulling onto his lips. The deity hummed and walked over, getting down on one knee as she cupped the prince's face. "Sweet child... Where is your angel?" she cooed softly, running her thumb over the prince's cheek soothingly. "....He's off on a mission, Lady Sun Slayer. One I wish he hadn't agreed to. But I suppose it will benefit us in the long run..." The deity hummed and remained where she was, continuing to rub soothing little circles into the prince's cheek. "Would you care to tell me more, my child?" Stargazer gazed upwards slightly, letting a small sigh escape his lips. "He was asked by an alternate version of myself to kill his father... Who, from what I've grasped, is an awful man... I know he's doing this to make this other version of myself never bother us again..." the prince trails off, looking down before he continued. "But I worry for the outcome." "Do you feel as tho he is unprepared to handle such a thing, young prince?" "No, of course not, Lady Sun Slayer. He's proven to me multiple times that he's capable of extortionary things... And once having been a follower of Lord Illumina, I have full confidence in him. I just-" "You worry for his safety, yes?" "....Yes. I do." "I understand, my child. When it comes to the ones we love the most, we only wish for them to be safe and sound, to never allow harm's hand to fall upon them. But you trust in his abilities, yes? You trust he's strong enough to handle such a thing, yes? Then I believe you have nothing to fear. Even if this doesn't sooth your soul entirely, I haven't a shadow of a doubt of his strength from what you've told me in your letters." -> The prince opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He nodded and leaned into the deity's touch, closing his eyes behind his mask. He just needed to relax, ease his nerves and tell himself that everything will be okay. "....Thank you, Lady Sun Slayer. I guess I needed to hear that." "Of course, my child. I am here to aid you however I can." "But there is a reason I've come to you this night, young prince." At that, Stargazer looked up with confusion, waiting for the deity to continue. "You have been looking for a way to see your father one more time, haven't you?" The prince nodded, sitting up in his chair properly. "I advise you seek the aid of Ghostwalker for what you want. Spirits are known to wander his temple if they had yet to move on. And I believe that is your best bet on finding your father's spirit, to say your last goodbye." The prince sat there in silence before slowly nodding, watching as Sun Slayer stands up, her covered eyes meeting with his covered eyes. Silence enveloped the two of them before Stargazer said one final thing. "Thank you, Lady Sun Slayer."

[liaromancewriter]

Feb 2024 Challenge - Eros 7. The biological basis of eros is procreation for Ethan x Cassie

No Barriers

Premise: It’s finally time to expand their family, but will nerves take over?

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Mature. Fluff. Words: 1,205

A/N: I'm soooo sorry, Nonny. It took me forever to find the right story idea for this prompt, and then I struggled with the words all of last week and this. Hope you enjoy it!

Submission for @choicesfebruary2024 prompt "Eros - procreation". I'm using @choicesflashfics week 74, prompt 3

Waiting was the hardest part. As a doctor, she understood the complicated relationship between chemicals, hormones and the human reproductive system. But as a woman who was finally ready to start a family, the wait while her body reversed the effects of birth control had been torturous.

So, when Cassie Valentine saw the notification on her phone from the app tracking her cycle, she had to dig deep to stop herself from running across the hospital to her husband’s office and ordering him to strip, bend her over his desk and put a baby in her.

She chuckled as she imagined the exasperation on Ethan Ramsey’s face if she did that. He’d surely pinch the bridge of his nose and curse under his breath. The way he said, “For Christ’s sake,” or “For the love of god,” with a hint of Rhode Island sass, was forever endearing to her (much to his perplexation).

Just because she had self-control (barely) didn’t mean she couldn’t give him a heads-up that he was in for a wild ride tonight and every night for the next few days.

In the dimly lit bedroom overlooking the dark waters of Boston Harbor, the soft glow of flickering candles cast dancing shadows on the walls. The delicate scent of vanilla and lavender lent an air of warmth and intimacy, but it couldn’t hide the nerves.

Cassie hadn’t felt nervous like this during their first time together all those years ago. Back then, she’d been swept up in the romance and culmination of months of longing for this man. But tonight, despite her earlier bravado or the desire and anticipation coursing through her veins, she felt her skin tingle with trepidation.

Ethan stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. She tilted her head back, gazing into his eyes, her lips parting slightly. The warmth from the candles mirrored the heat rising between them, their breaths mingling in the air.

“Nervous?” he whispered, his lips hovering tantalizingly above hers.

“Terrified,” Cassie admitted, letting out a short laugh. “It’s funny because we’ve had sex more times than I can remember, but knowing this time it’s….”

She shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.

Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers trailing down her cheek to her neck, feeling the pulse quicken under his touch. Cassie leaned into him, her hands finding their way to his shoulders, then sliding up to tangle in his dark brown hair.

“You know,” Ethan began in a measured tone, “studies show it’s normal for couples to have nerves when trying to get pregnant. But it’s also counterproductive because stress hormones can act as mental and physical barriers. You need to get out of your head and let it come naturally.”

Annoyed, Cassie pushed herself out of his arms and faced him with her hands on her hips. “Now, you’re just killing the mood! This is not the time for Dr. Ramsey. I need Ethan, so be that.”

To her amusement, he rolled his eyes and tugged her back into his arms. “What do you want ‘Ethan’ to do?”

“Sweep me off my feet like the first time. Fuck me until all I can’t walk straight——”

Cassie yelped as Ethan literally swept her up into his arms and dumped her on their bed. He quickly followed her down, pressing her body into the soft mattress. His lips latched onto the side of her neck, nibbling and sucking the sensitive skin until throaty moans escaped her lips.

His mouth covered hers, coaxing her with his tongue to let him in, and he deepened the kiss when she parted her lips. Her legs fell to the sides, cradling his burgeoning erection between her thighs. Her hips rose off the bed, and she locked her ankles behind his thighs.

Ethan cuffed her wrists with one hand and held her arms above her head. Cassie squirmed as his other hand slowly traced a path through the valley between her breasts, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His fingers strummed her nipples, taking turns to make circular patterns across each tip before descending further down past her belly button.

Her eyes snapped open when he entered her with his middle finger, the heel of his palm pressing on the nub at the top of her sex.

“Uh.” She shook the fog of lust clouding her brain. “Shouldn’t you be putting another larger and more crucial part of you inside me for this particular occasion?”

Suddenly, Ethan stilled, his finger still thrust inside her, but it was no longer in motion.

“Seriously?” he stared at her incredulously, releasing her to brace himself on his elbows. “Now, who’s killing the mood?

“Never mind.” Cassie airily waved one hand. “Carry on. I’m ready.”

Ethan muttered something under his breath, but she couldn’t make out the words.

She held back a grin as he mentally shook it off and tried to focus on the task, but he was clearly struggling to remember where he’d left off.

Deciding to give him a hand, literally, Cassie cupped his balls in her palm while stroking his length with her other hand. She knew exactly how he liked to be handled and what would push him over the edge. It didn’t take long.

She found herself upended as he lifted her up and reversed their positions. Cassie straddled his thighs, and his erection nudged her core. His hands combed through her hair before his palms covered her breasts.

“You know what to do,” he ordered, blue eyes glittering with heat. “Ride.”

Cassie took him in, slowly, oh so slowly, until he growled in frustration. Gripping her ass, his fingers clenched tightly, leaving a mark on her skin. He pulled her wide and thrust deeper until he was embedded fully. He stilled then, giving her a moment to adjust.

The nerves faded as they moved together, lost in the moment, and forgot everything but what they were to each other. With every touch and every kiss, they surrendered to the passion that consumed them.

Later, Cassie lay sprawled on top of Ethan, her head on his shoulder and her palm curled above his heart. It was not quite racing but still fast after their lovemaking. She liked how his hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers absently threading through her blonde hair.

“It’s different,” she said softly.

“Huh?” Ethan asked, his voice gruff.

“Knowing there’s no birth control, chemical or otherwise. No barriers between us.”

She felt him nod in agreement and knew he felt it, too, from how his heart jumped at the thought.

Shadows from the flickering candles danced on the walls, and the tick-tock of the clock was loud in the silence. Feeling drowsy, Cassie’s eyes started to drift close when she heard him chuckle.

“I hate to say I told you so, but …” Ethan paused, waiting until she angled her head to gaze into his eyes. She caught the smirk on his lips and the teasing twinkle in his eyes and arched one brow askance.

“I was right earlier,” he continued matter-of-factly. “Sometimes, you just have to let go and let things come naturally.”

---------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @justyourusualash @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate @zealouscanonindeer

[theirlgarfield]

Gojo x reader fem

tell me if i should do a masc one, btw smut warning, sensitive content, still new to this so im gonna go soft do critique me pls!

............................................................................................................................

Its a lazy saturday morning your on the couch reading your book some pages even make you blush.

the you hear a buzz from your phone "Bzzz...Bzzzz...BBBRRRING"

"ugh, god damnit this better be important" you flip your phone over to see 2 messages and a missed call from gojo what does this shithead want from you today

you and gojo had a stict FWB situation nothing more,or s you thought....

you check his texts and this fucker send you a white kitten gif with a text underneath it saying "good morning sweet cheeks, howd you sleep" with a little :3 at the end. you dont quite know what he wants with you but it cant be good thats for sure. you decide to text him back "what do you want gojo?" he responds in 30 seconds "i mean i think yk what i mean ;3....." your kidding me i think to myself "fine" i respond

30 minutes later hes at my house he knocks on the door and as i open it hes leaning on the door frame staring at me and looking me up and down with a smirk on his face,

"good morning beautiful" he says in a flirty voice hes wearing a tight compression shirt and grey sweatpants oh and how he knows what happens when he wears it

tbh just seeing him kinda turns me on and his outfit i already saw his pants and he knew what he was doing to me. I let him inside and close the door he whispers in my ear "you look charming in those clothes but beautiful with out them" he breaths hot air down my neck "I could say the same for you, toru~"

i lightly grab his face and bring him in for a kiss, because of his height i have to get on my tippy toes just to reach him but then he lifts me up by my waist and my legs wrap around him.

using one hand to run a finger from my neck and and down my spine and holding me, being in his arms felt like heaven and it was glorious he knew how to hold me kiss me even fuck me ecspecially the last one.

he pushes his lip into mine, as our lips disconnect a line of drool comes out. he knaws slighty on my chin before returning to clashing againts my lips.

as the tension between us grows like a magnet he places me on the counter feeling every curve of my body, and placing one of his hands under my shirt cupping my breast lighly rubbing the nipple he pulls his face to my neck and starts marking it with his teeth practically claiming me, i let out a soft moan as he pinches my nips and he bites hard and run another finger down my back exciting all my nerves and as i think hes about to keep going he pushes me farther on the counter.

"undress~"he says demandingly but also calming he knows hes won

..............................................................................................................................

should i continue it? lemme know and i would love comments since this is my first ever actual story and i kinda like it let me know what yall like and what u dont like! adios have a great day or good night drink water and take care of urself mwah

[water3]

One last present

Relationship: BF Chris Evans x GF reader

Summary: You have one last present for Chris.

Warnings: 18+, Minors do not interact!  Smutty, painplay-ish? Grinding, Ass and breast grapping, Birthday sex, Female relief, nipple playing, nipple pulling, nipple twisting, nipple pinching, nipple sucking.

Words: 821

A/N: It's Chris Evans' birthday, so this was a must-write for me.

“Do you want to see Jumanji? " Steve yells from the bed.

"Sounds great. Just give me a moment" You yell back from the bathroom.

After dinner with some of his friends, you two decide to have a little movie night. 

But little did he know, you have one last present for him.

You took the last look in the mirror before walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

Steve looks a little confused when he sees you still wearing the same wrap-dress from the dinner. He expected you in something a little more comfy, like a T-shirt or a hoodie.

"I have one last present for you," You say as you casually unwrap your dress and let it fall down to the floor, exposing the little black lingerie set you to have on.

His eye travel down your body, carefully looking at every single detail of the set.

You slowly walk up to the edge of the bed, and his eyes follow your body. You bent a bit down and yank the blanket off his body. You can clearly see he is hard through his boxers.

He bit down his bottom lip as he admire you.

“You had been wearing that all day, haven't you?” He asks.

You nod and crawls onto the bed, with your knees on each side of his legs, until you reach his hips.

“Sit up” you demand and he quickly obeys, like a dog waiting for treats.

You hover over his lap, lightly touching his erection. 

His hand grabs the sides off your knees and runs them up to your hips.

“Sit down,” He says as he pulls you down to his lap, so you really can feel how hard he is. You lightly rub yourself against his erection.

Your hands slowly run down his bare body, down to the waistband of his boxers. Your two index fingers curl under his waistband.

Your hand is about to go under his boxers, but Chris stops you.

“Let me get a taste of my present first. And then you can touch all you want” he says as his hands grab your hips and leans into a kiss.

“Everything for my birthday boy” You mumbles against his lips.

His hands run down to your ass and guide you to rub your entrance harder against him.

“So needy you have become, sir” You playfully say.

His lips curl into a grin.

“And you ain't?” he plays back.

You laugh.

“Not like you”

“Oh, is that so” He mumbles as his lips reach your neck, knowing this is one of your most sensitive spots.

“That is so” You answer as you feel his soft warm breath on your neck. He slowly nipping your neck, letting you feel every nerve on your neck. His hands run up to your covered breasts and cup them, softly massaging them. His thumbs lightly run over your hard nipples. 

You rub yourself hard against him, trying to get some more relief.

“Like that, don’t you?” He mockingly asks, even though he already knows the answer.

You nod, but that isn’t good enough for him.

“Words, I need your words, Honey,” He says against your nipples.

“I-is so fucking goo-” 

He pinches one of your nipples hard.

“Oh really?” he mumbles as he rests his forehead on your shoulder, giving him the perfect view of your body.

His thumbs softly run in circles on your nipples before pinching them a bit harder than before. 

“Harder” You moans as you look down and watch his fingers playing with your painfully hard nipples.

“Yeah?” He roughly rubs his thumbs and middle fingers hard together with your nipples in between, making it even more painful and pleasurable than before.

He pulls down your bra, exposing your breasts. And he leans down and takes your nipple in,  while letting his tongue play with your nipple.

Your breathing slowly turns into a mix of moans and air-gasping.

He starts sucking while still letting his tongue circle around your nipple. You are needlessly rubbing yourself even hard and fast against his covered dick with your sex.

He moves to the other nipple.

The cold air hits your wet nipple, he just left.

“More, faster” You gasp.

“So who is the needy one?” He mockingly says against your nipple.

He sucks harder and harder and lets his tongue get more and more aggressive.

Your moans get louder and more erratically.

You close your eyes and let him take complete control of your body.

He roughly pinches your other nipple.

You push yourself hard against him. He knows you are close as he keeps going until your body slowly relaxes.

He looks up at you as you try to catch your breast.

Chris pulls your bra back in place.

“Soo that movie?” Chris asks, then your breathing finally comes in control.

You look at him with a littel smirk.

“Is my turn now”