#I have baby vision and need that colour

[bootyful-seventeen]

Sometimes I feel like I have baby vision cuz I can only find things when there is colours present :/

[slightly-sad-sloth]

Damian’s prosthetic spine is my Roman Empire

COMMS OPEN

Text ver. of the handwriting under cut in case it's hard to read

Comic; page 1

Panel 1 -

(Halfway up a skyscraper)

Damian: X-ray vision.

Jon: would it kill you to say please?

Panel 2 -

Damian: Does baby need to be coddled?

(Bomb)

Panel 5-

(whole ass metal spine)

Panel 6 -

(pamphlet saying 'childhood scoliosis spinal implants. Titanium rod')

Jon: Man, your scoliosis must've been bad, huh?

Comic; Page 2

Panel 3 -

Jon: it's the red one by the way

Panel 4 -

Jon: Wanna swing by mine for leftover pie after?

Damian: sure.

Sketches;

Page 1:

Headcanons.

Cracks back like old man

Has to do regular back exercises

Page 2:

Headcanon 2

Rubs back of neck/where chip was when upset

(I know he wouldn't have a scar, but consider scars are cool)

Page 3:

Banner: Paralysed by a colourful serial killer club

Barbara: Joker. You?

Damian: ... Flamingo

The dynamic

At heart, a good person

Just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing

[msgexymunson]

Soft Touches

Description: you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.

Warnings: acquaintances to lovers, reader is AFAB, weed smoking (both parties so no real dub con), fem oral receiving, praise kink, p in v unprotected sex.

A/N: It's my birthday! And I'm high, and horny, so happy birthday! If you've read my work you KNOW I'm a sucker for the first time y/n fucks Eddie. When I'm a benevolent dictator it shall be a universal holiday ;)

4k words

Masterlist

“Eddie, what the hell was in that?” 

Floating in a cloud of your high, the entire room seemed to glow in pink and orange, senses tinged in a sunset glow. You were definitely stoned out of your tree if you were comparing Eddie's stuffy, cramped room to a breath-taking sunset. 

“It's a new strain I got from Rick. You feeling it?” 

“Oh, I'm feeling it alright. I can hear colours.” 

Eddie's rich laugh echoed off the walls of his trailer. He laid on the bed casually, one arm slung beneath his head making his tight t-shirt ride up slightly. Just a peek of his happy trail was on display, which you tried, and failed, not to stare at. 

It was proving difficult, especially since you sat criss-cross apple sauce on his floor. His body was eye level, handcuff belt shining softly in the low light. The glint of that drew your eyes even lower, concentrating on the bulge you could see in his jeans.

You thought you were being sneaky. You absolutely were not. 

“Hey, sweetheart, you gonna answer me or just stare at my dick?” 

“Huh?” 

Shaking your head as if to clear it, you finally met his gaze. 

“I said, you can come lay up here if you want.” 

Halfway between getting up and still in a weird little crouch his words finally filtered through your addled brain. 

“I wasn't staring at your dick!” 

“Whatever you say, baby girl.” 

Frozen, mind empty of comebacks, you clambered out of your goblin stance and stood up, when the blood decided to rush to your head. 

“Oh Holy shit.” 

Your knees buckled, and you would have ended up face first on Eddie's carpet if he hadn't caught you. 

“Easy there, I've got you.” 

Eddie's firm hands held your upper arms tightly as he manoeuvred you to sit on his bed. The room was spinning, everything was drifting out of focus. 

“I need to lie down.” 

Eddie pulled you towards his pillows and laid you down gently, picking your legs up and settling them on the bed with you. Staring up at his off white ceiling, things began to drift back in. Once the room finally stopped swooping around in your vision, you started to come to your senses. 

You are on Eddie Munson's bed. You knew him, sure, only in a ‘can I come round so you can smoke us out and listen to music’ kind of way. You'd hardly call him a friend. This though, feeling the heat of his body next to you, him leaning on his side staring at you worriedly seemed entirely outside of your current arrangement. 

Suddenly the air was stifling, Eddie's warmth only exacerbating the matter. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, just really warm. And fucking high.” 

Eddie laughed, relieved.

“Thank fuck, I was scared for a minute.” 

You fumbled at the hem of your oversized sweater, attempting to wriggle it up your body but all motor skills were beyond you right now. 

“Eddie.” You pouted at him, flapping the edge of your sweater with frustrated hands. 

“You want this off?” 

“Please.” 

He flashed you a mischievous grin and pulled up upright, beginning to draw the offensive sweater up and over your form. 

“Didn't think you'd be begging me to undress you sweetheart.” 

Rolling your eyes in response, you held your arms over your head like a petulant toddler. Sweater removed and tossed to the foot of the bed, you risked a glance at Eddie. He was entirely preoccupied, staring at your bare midriff that was now on display. 

“It's a crop top Eddie, get over it.” 

Flinging yourself back down on the pillow, Eddie coughed, looking a little flustered, and settled in next to you. 

“Sorry, I didn't expect it. You always wear baggy shit.” 

“Comfortable shit, thank you. I come here to smoke, it's not New York fashion week.”

Eddie ran a finger across you, just below your belly button. The barely there touch blazed across your skin. 

“I didn't know you had your belly button pierced.” 

Looking down, you watch as his fingers circle it, then flick the little jewel dangling off the end. Thighs clamping together out of sheer necessity, you attempt to ignore it. 

“Yeah, got it done when I was like 15, two towns over. Probably my least painful piercing. Apart from ears, of course.”

Apparently, Rick's new strain also makes you run your mouth, as well as being insanely warm and horny. It seemed you had captured Eddie's attention. He turned further towards you, one hand holding his head up. The other, much to your relief, stayed on your stomach. You're not sure he was even aware he was still stroking your skin. 

“Least painful? What other piercings do you have?” 

You seriously considered dodging the question, but it's difficult to be devious directly to those big wet eyes of his. It's like trying to lie to a baby cow. 

“Well, I got my nose done, but the piercing fell out and I didn't bother to get a new one. That one stung. But the worst had to be my… my nipples.” 

The whole bed lurched as Eddie jumped up and sat cross legged facing you. He practically flew into action, grabbing his cigarettes and a lighter as if you were about to tell him some epic tale. 

“Right, tell me everything.” 

Whilst laughing at his wide eyed expression, you realise he's being completely serious. 

“Well, they er, they like, sanitise the… area, draw a dot where they're going to pierce you and tell you to take a deep breath in and it's done. It's super quick actually. It's more the after part that hurts. Why are you interested?” 

Eddie pushes his hair behind one ear, the tip of it is glowing scarlet, you notice. 

“I was thinking about getting it done my last birthday but I didn't have the cash.” 

He's staring at you, nervously chewing on a hang nail. You can practically see the unasked question dancing on his tongue. You weren't going to offer, hell no. If he wants to see he has to ask. The thing is, the way your tummy is bubbling right now, you don't think you could say no to those eyes of his. 

The question remains unsaid. He merely offers you a drag on his cigarette which you take gratefully, before he's stubbing it out and laying back down next to you. 

“How you feeling now? Bit less baked?” 

“Oh I'm still fucked, but I can see straight and I don't feel sick.” 

His fingers begin their dance again, skating over your exposed flesh, stroking down your side to your hip, across your stomach, and back again. You want to mention it. He's never touched you like this before, but you also don't want him to stop. 

“Good. Not inviting you over again if you hurl on my bed.” 

Giggling, you turn and face him. You're both on your sides now, knees close to knocking. His shirts ridden up again and before you can even register what you're doing you've placed a delicate hand on his hip. His eyes widened briefly, but that's it. Both of you are touching the others bare flesh, whispers of touches. Little, tentative things, like the bursting of soap bubbles on skin. 

“I wouldn't hurl on your bed. I'm sure I'd at least make it to the bathroom. I'm not an animal.” 

Eddie just grins in response, and you look at each other, really look. His dopey smile is the same as yours, and it seems neither of you want to mention how this seems to be rolling into very unfamiliar territory. 

“Eddie?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why are you touching me?” 

He pushes infinitesimally closer, his knee now slotting between yours. It's a small gesture, but suddenly the situation feels even more intimate than before. 

“Because. Because it feels good. You're soft, and warm. And you keep making little noises.” 

“I do?” 

He smooths his hand higher, thumb dragging along the underside of your breast, and you let out a tiny, quivering whimper.

“See? Like that.” 

Opening your legs slightly wider, Eddie's knee pushes naturally further forward, his thigh now wedged between yours. His breath is fanning your nose; cigarettes, weed, and sweet snacks. 

“So sweetheart, why are you touching me?” 

Your hand presses a little more firmly, snaking underneath the hem of his shirt. With no complaint forthcoming, you reach further up, stroking his side, up over his ribs, and back down again. He responds in kind. Every kiss of fingers is electrifying, filling the room with a soft, dense tension. 

“Because it feels good. Because I saw a bit of skin and I couldn't resist.” 

“Yeah?” He's smirking as he says it, but you're beyond playing games at this point. 

“Yeah.” 

“I didn't know I was irresistible.”

You pinch his skin a little and he stares at you like you just betrayed him. 

“I didn't say that, you're twisting my words.” 

“Pretty sure I heard-” 

Cutting him off with a tickle to the ribs, he grabs your hand to stop you. 

“OK, OK! You were right, I was wrong. Nice touches again please.” 

His hand swiftly makes its way back to your skin and you continue to stroke him. 

“Nice touches?” 

“Yeah, it feels really good.” 

Running your hand up, you graze his nipple, and then bring it back down, down, until you reach the top of his jeans. You graze a finger, just one, under them, sweeping across his tensing abs. Then, you move up to more innocent flesh. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

Eddie's chest is heaving, fingers pressing indents into your flesh. 

“Nice enough?” you're the one smirking this time, pleased at the effect you're having on him. 

“Yeah.” 

It's barely a word, more of a breath. You scoot closer toward him, just a couple of inches, but it's close enough to feel his thigh start to press against your heat. Gasping at the pressure, you rub subtly against his thigh to try and relieve your mounting feelings, no matter how slightly. 

Eddie's hand starts making a trembling journey up your form, fingers twisting underneath your top. Feeling the underside of your bare breast, you both gasp. Eddie undoubtedly because you weren't wearing a bra, you because, well, the obvious. The slightest graze had your nipple hardening instantly, hips rocking forward without your control. 

“Is this OK?” 

“Yeah. Please.” 

Fingers stretching further, Eddie finally brushes your nipple. The feeling is magnified by your piercing; they've felt more sensitive since you got them done.

The moan that escapes is louder than you meant but it couldn't be helped. This simple touch is igniting through your nerves and rushing to your high brain. 

“Shit, they are pierced.” 

It seems to be a thought that Eddie said out loud by accident as he rubs his fingers over your ruddy nipple, slowly circling the silver balls of the jewellery. 

Another moan breaks from you, even louder this time.

“Fuuuuck Eddie.” 

“Yeah?” 

His touches become firmer, rubbing your nipple between thumb and forefinger, mapping the way your face scrunches up with his eyes.

“Yeah, jeez. They're really sensitive.” 

Practically panting in each other's mouths, your noses rub together. 

“Can- can I kiss you?” 

His words are so hesitant that it makes you giggle. Pressing your lips in a swift kiss to his full bottom lip, you respond. 

“I'd be mad if you didn't.” 

Eddie wastes no more time, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to you that you reciprocate in kind. You keep it slow, leisurely traversing new territory with soft, exploring tongues. Naturally your arms encircle him, pulling him closer, closer. His arm snakes around your back as your bodies press together, like puzzle pieces slotting together and finding their perfect match. Eventually you break away to take a gasping breath as Eddie presses kisses to your collarbone.

“I don't know why we waited so long to do that.” 

“We? I thought you just wanted me for free drugs!” 

You giggled loudly at that, so loud it came out as a snort, but it didn't matter. The moment was so honest that being cool had nothing to do with it. You were bare, in a way, and so was he. 

Eddie chuckled with you as he slowly but surely pushed you onto your back, slipping both of his legs between yours. Pushing your hips up, you feel his hardness graze your pubic bone. 

“Eddie?” 

He hums a response, lips and tongue busy loving on your neck. You tug at the hem of your top and pull upwards. Eddie gets the message, moving out of the way briefly so you can strip it off. 

There you are, bare chested in front of him. You'd be nervous, if you hadn't seen the longing in his eyes. He's kneeling, one arm leaning on the mattress whilst the other compulsively strokes your side. 

“Jesus Christ your tits are perfect.” 

The moment stretches just a little too long for comfort; you're a hair's breadth away from crossing your arms over your chest when Eddie leans down and runs his tongue around and around one nipple. Mewling pathetically, you lace your fingers in Eddie's soft waves and tug. In response his teeth graze you as he sucks softly; then he gives the other just as much attention. 

Shuddering and wriggling under him, you can't do anything but whine, your hips undulating upwards to chase some friction, some release, anything. 

“Eddie, please, I need you.” 

“Umph,” He responds, muffled by your chest, “I need you to say that again.” 

“Eddie I swear to God if you don't- ” 

He laughs, cutting off your sentence. 

“Alright baby girl, I got you.” 

Working his way down your front, he takes his time planting soft kisses, making you writhe at each touch of his lips, until he reaches your shorts. 

Flicking the button open, he slowly drags the zip down and finds the little sliver of red panties poking out. 

“Hearts? Cute.” 

Thick fingers plunge into your clothes and pull them away, flinging your shorts and panties across the room into the void that was Eddie's carpet. 

Insecurity finally gripped its claws into you. What if he didn't like what you looked like down there, smelled like, tasted like? 

A moment of unadulterated panic, and then Eddie licked his tongue, slowly yet firmly, between your lips and all the way up. Barging your thighs further apart with his shoulders, he rooted your clit out with his tongue, running dizzying circles and sucking at it desperately. 

Eddie's moans rivalled your own, such neediness etched in you swear his fingerprints will be left on the outside of your thighs like tattoos, simply from the force he held you with. Barely able to shake, you compensated by pulling his hair and guiding his tongue exactly where you needed it. 

He pushed a thick calloused finger into you slowly, looking up at you as he did so. You back arched off the bed. He felt around, staring at you with such intensity you that you were seconds away from telling him to quit staring when-

“Oh God, oh fuck!” 

Eddie smirked, sliding another finger in gently to join the first, and worked your clit between his lips. He incessantly stroked a spot inside that you'd never reach on your own, a firm, beckoning gesture as if he were willing your orgasm to come hither. 

It was working. Your insides tingle, a tightness pulling straight from your gut and shooting out to your fingers and toes. Beyond control by this point, your hand pulls his hair tightly. To your amazement, his other hand reaches out to you, seeking, and you lace your fingers in his own. 

As soon as your digits touched, you were gone. Your release plummets out of you, shaking through every bone you have, leaving you a twitching puddle of a woman. His fingers chase after it, dragging every inch of squelching pleasure out of your insides until you're tugging him away and begging for it to stop. 

As he moved back up your body, licking and sucking as he did so, you tried to think of an answer to the smug grin he was just about to flash at you. 

There was none. Brain unravelled, threads wound into your nerves instead of your thoughts, you laid there, ruminating on how he'd made you come faster than any other man.

Eddie hovered over you, nose nudging your own. He must have wiped his mouth at some point whilst you were in la la land. 

“Hey pretty girl.”

“Eddie, you're really fuckin’ good at that.”

“I know.”

You laugh, tapping his side.

“Cocky.”

“Confident.”

Before you can retort his mouth is back on you, peppering kisses to your jaw, as his solid member presses into your naked heat.

“Fuck Eddie, please, please please-”

“Please what baby girl?” He asks, then sucks a hickey on your neck. 

Pulling him towards you by his shirt collar, you bite down sharply on his earlobe, pulling a little groan from his chest.

“I want you to stuff me full Eddie. I'm- I'm on birth control. Fill me up.” 

You can practically feel Eddie's eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fuck, you can't just say that, I nearly busted in my pants!” 

Pulling himself off you for the shortest time he could, he peels his t-shirt over his head and flops back on top of you. Desperate kisses and urgent gropes spill from you both; grinding, needy things that tore at clothes and grasped at flesh. 

After fiddling and failing with his belt, you huff and tug harshly at his waistband. He chuckles, biting at your bottom lip as he unlatches it with ease and then wriggles his pants and boxers down his legs with urgency. 

More desperate grasps, teeth and tongues clashing violently, your hand reaching down to clutch at his- 

“Holy hell!” 

His eyes widen, hands coming to a halt, waiting for the rest of your sentence. You're too busy trying to glance down his front as he hovers over you, your fist firmly stroking his hardened cock.

“You're huge Eddie!” 

He smirks and thrusts into your hand, the velvet smoothness of his dick massaged  by your palm. 

“Bet you say that to all the guys.”

“Er, no, Rick's made some truth serum or some shit because that's the biggest I've ever felt.” 

You guide him firmly towards your entrance, dragging the tip of his enlarged cock through your slickened folds. He quivers over you, arms thick with tension. 

“Baby girl just, just slip it inside, please-” 

“Now who's begging?” 

Grinning mischievously, you wait for him to start forming an answer with his mouth when you slip the head inside your sopping opening. His open mouth turns into a long drawn out moan. 

You would tease him if the feeling of him splitting you open wasn't all consuming. Which it fucking is. He just keeps pushing, and pushing, until his chest is flush with yours and he's mumbling platitudes in your ear. 

“Doing so good for me. Such a naughty, naughty girl. Getting filled up by her drug dealer? Baby girls a little dirty, isn't she?”

You're trying not to let him know how much his words affect you, but the fluttering of your satin like walls tells a different story. 

“You're not my dealer.” 

“Oh really? I'm not?” 

Pulling out nearly all the way and pushing back in, you bite your lip at the drag against your insides.

“Dealer implies I buy shit. You just give it to me, like a little simp.”

Eddie's mouth drops open in mock outrage.

“You want me to give it to you now? I'll fucking give it to you baby.” 

Hooking an arm under your thigh, Eddie thrusts into you hard and devastatingly deep. And again, and again, until you start moaning wantonly right in his face, all bravado forgotten.

“Yeah? Atta girl. That good baby? Wanna feel me right here?” 

His other hand pushes against your lower stomach, the pressure deepening the pleasure he's giving you tenfold. 

“Oh Eddie, oh fuckfuckfuck!!” 

Your release explodes out of your cunt with a gush, liquid spurting out of you so hard you nearly force his impressive length out. It waves drastically, like the sea against the shore, washing and washing over you until it's hard to breathe. 

“Baby, baby! Holy shit, I think you squirted.” 

“Ya think? My God, that was… mind blowing.” 

“Yeah?” 

Looking up at him, you expect that arrogant grin, but he just looks pleased and innocent. Like a kid at Christmas. 

“Yeah, fuck yeah.”

Rolling him over with all the power left in your thighs, you pin him down and move firmly into him, ferality taking over your actions. 

“Jesus Christ, you are a dirty girl, aren't you?” 

“Maybe just a little.” 

Smirking, you hump against him, your swollen clit bumping against his pubic bone on each delicious pass. 

“Holy shit, I'm not complaining- fuck, what the- what are you doing? Jesus Christ!” 

You bounce hard on him. Seeing him writhe under you is a special kind of power, one you aren't willing to let go of. Ever.

“Fuck, b-baby girl, you're gonna make me come!” 

His intense moans spur you on further. Unable to bounce so much on shaky knees you snuggle down close to him, arms clutching his shoulders, as you grind into him. It's massaging sensations into your clit, as well as teasing your g spot with his imposing length. 

“I can't, I’m-  baby girl-” 

“I'm gonna come, Eddie please, fill me up, I wanna feel it, I wanna feel your cum inside me, please, fuckin’ breed me Eddie. Oh fuck!” 

Quivering against him uncontrollably, your legs give out, collapsing on his body as he tenses and releases inside of you. It spurs your own orgasm, snaking up your spine and gripping on your system like a fly caught in honey. An open mouthed scream is all you give him, silent but chock full of feeling, as your back arches in its own tension. 

As it curls out of you, your back gives up, and you flop forward, bones turned to pudding. 

“Well.” is all that comes out, a puff of a word, just air escaping from a collapsing chest.

“Well.” Eddie responds, waiting for what you're about to say. 

You're sure he doesn't expect it. A laugh bubbles out; a weird, inside laugh, that you probably should never share with anyone. But it keeps coming. And coming. Laughing uncontrollably, you roll off of him and try to get your stomach muscles in check. 

You'd be worried about his reaction, if he wasn't laughing with you. It was this odd mixture of tension and relief that was bursting in the air, a barrier broken and left crumbling at your feet. 

“Eddie. Fuck, Eddie.” 

“Yeah?”

‘Yeah.”

His heated hand found yours, and squeezed your fingers hard. For some reason, it felt more intimate than all of this combined. 

Giggling again, you lean into his chest, fingers dipping up to weave into his hair. 

“Baby girl, you can't just-” 

“What? Pull your hair? Because you like it?” 

Tugging on his hair dramatically, Eddie tosses his head back and groans. 

“Knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah, certified genius. It's like you don't wanna be railed again.” 

Huffing, you pull yourself on top of him again, hardened nipples brushing softly against his flesh. 

“Oh, I think I'll be the one railing you. You wanna make a bet, for next time?” 

Smug grin forgotten, Eddie stares at you in disbelief.

“Next time?” 

“Well, I hope so. Got to be the best I've ever had.” 

Stupid Rick and his stupid strain. 

“Best you've ever had?” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Only if you wanna.” 

The teasing stopped. At least for now. It was pretty clear, your need for each other was outranking any goading you'd been sharing. 

At least for now… 

Taglist (Some permanents, some likely candidates, if you want to be added, jus say the word sweetheart)

@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson

[dilemmaontwolegs]

If you are open to request, Max fucking you in the bathroom of the F1 gala because of how good you guys look

The Real Prize || MV1

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut WC: ~900 Pre-Gala || The Real Prize || Jealousy || Panties || Captivity || Rocky || Escaping || Thighs || Consequences || A Mile High

You hid the light of your phone under the table and sent an apologetic smile to Geri as she watched the prize giving ceremony. Max had excused himself to get ready for his award that was coming up, but then he had text you.

Max: Come outside x

You kept your head low as you crept through the rows of tables and out of the event hall, only to have your hand grabbed when you passed through the last door.

“Baby, they’re going to call your name soon.”

Max ignored you as he led you down the quiet corridor and slipped into the bathroom. It was only when the bolt slid across and locked the door firmly in place that Max faced you, hunger in his blue eyes.

“We have time, and you look gorgeous,” he said as he caught the back of your neck and tugged you closer, crushing his lips to yours. You moaned into his kiss and your hands roamed his body, unbuttoning his suit jacket so you could get to his belt free. He spun you in his arms and his hand slipped between your legs as you held his heated stare in the mirror. “We look so good together, schatje.”

“You should have better self-control,” you whispered as his hand teased you over the silk material of your dress.

“I can’t help that I came with the most beautiful woman here,” he hummed in your ear before searing your skin with delicate kisses. “You make it impossible to resist wanting these legs wrapped around me.”

You turned in his arms and he walked you back until your ass hit the marble bench. His fingers snatched at the skirt and bunched it up over your hips that he grabbed to pick you up, seating you at the edge of the sink. 

“Hurry up, Max,” you begged as he unzipped his fly. Needing him just as much, you pushed the trousers down over his ass and dug your nails into the hard flesh. You had found it hard to keep your hands to yourself the moment he had emerged from the bedroom in his tailored suit, his bow tie in his hands as he asked you for help. “You’re going to miss your trophy.”

“Fuck the trophy,” he scoffed as he brushed your panties aside and curled his fingers inside you to find how wet you already were for him. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he smiled at the taste of you on his tongue. “Nothing could beat this prize right here.”

“Stop teasing me, please, fuck me already.”

Max’s smile grew at the needy whine and he sealed his lips over yours to silence the cry you gave as he gave you what you wanted. Snapping his hips forward you were instantly full and your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of being stretched out around his cock. 

“Happy, schatje?” he chuckled, trailing his lips along your jaw until he was watching the mirror over your shoulder. You pouted as you were suddenly empty again but then Max was putting you back on your feet and bending you over the washbasin, in front of the mirror. “We look so good together,” he repeated as he entered you.

Your cunt clenched at the sight of him taking you with complete disregard to the prestigious ceremony happening down the corridor. He had nothing on his mind except how the dress accentuated all your best features and how perfect your body fit his, warm and slick around him.

“Max,” you panted as your orgasm drew near, the heat on your abdomen spreading further along your body. “Max, please.”

Max ran a hand down your thigh, hooking behind your knee and raising it to rest on the marble top. The new angle drew quick breaths into your lungs as his cock hit that spot deep inside that had stars dancing around your vision. 

“Look at me, schatje,” he reminded as your eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy. You snapped them open and met his startling blue ones in the mirror and noticed the flush of colour on his cheeks, and the thick veins in his neck. 

The sight was enough to throw you over the edge and his spine snapped rigidly as he felt your pussy walls clamp tight around him. He couldn’t have held back if he tried, pleasure ran down him like a lightning bolt and he buried himself as deep as he could when he spilled himself inside. Aftershocks tingled down your legs as you felt him pulsing with his release and his heavy breathing warmed your neck before he kissed it softly and pulled out. 

“Shit,” he swore as he tucked himself away and saw the message on his phone from his boss.

Christian: Where are you?

He didn’t bother replying as you straightened your dress before reaching out for his bow and doing the same. “Go,” you urged with a nod to the door. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Max double checked his hair was sitting right before pecking your lips. “Ik hou van jou.”

“Love you too, now go.” You pushed him towards the door with a laugh as he looked ready to stay for another round. “You’re late!”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hi baby!! dont worry!! it was about reader getting so stressed and annoyed while building a gingerbread house that they throw it in the garbage because its going all wrong and carmy finds it hilarious lol then he builds one for her hehe<3 love u

Perfectionist.

Your boyfriend being a professional chef has its perks - especially when it comes to gingerbread houses.

pairing - carmen berzatto x female reader warnings - cursing word count - under 1k!! short and sweet author's note - just a little dose of carmy at christmas for you. thanks baby angel for sending this request in (twice!!) <3

masterlist. inbox.

"Fuck this."

Carmy hears your raised voice and immediately comes running, coming to a halt in the doorway of the kitchen.

"You good, baby?"

"No."

The frown on your face is amusing him to no end, fighting to keep his smile from breaking out. He doesn't want to minimise your feelings, but you're cutest when you're mad.

Carmy takes in the scene in front of him, surveying carefully. There's chunks of gingerbread scattered across the table, icing dripping from the tablecloth. Your kitchen looks like a candy store exploded - sweets in red, green and blue littered over every surface. You're caked in frosting, hair falling into your eyes as you take deep breaths to try to keep your anger at bay.

"I knew this wouldn't be easy, but fuck me, Carmy... I'm on the brink of a breakdown here."

He makes his way over, grinning like an idiot. It's not often he gets to help you with things - you're fiercely independent, determined to get stuff done all by yourself. He likes teaching you, getting to feel like he's easing your worries a little.

"You want my help?"

"I said I'd do it," you huff, on the verge of stamping your feet and pushing the table over.

"It won't kill you to ask for what you need, baby."

You roll your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth. It's difficult for you to admit defeat, but you might rip your hair out if your gingerbread collapses one more time.

"Can you help me, Carm?" you whisper.

"What was that, honey? Say it again?"

You sigh in exasperation, slumping back into your chair.

"Can you help me, Carmen? Please?"

He beams at you like the cat that got the cream, making his way over to sit next to you at the table.

"Lets start again, hmm?"

"Good idea."

You pick up the remnants of your gingerbread house and throw them so forcefully, the trash can almost tips over. Carmy laughs, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

"I think we've finally found the one thing you're not good at, honey. It's a Christmas miracle."

You can't help but chuckle, leaning your head back to rest against his shoulder. He presses a kiss or four into your neck, nosing at the spot under your ear.

"Okay, Mr Michelin Star. Show me what you got."

You bake, first, Carmy explaining how to get the perfect texture you need for structural soundness. He even gets out a ruler, measuring the rolled out dough so the sides will be even.

He kisses you lazily while your gingerbread is in the oven. You're propped up on the counter as he stands between your legs, arms thrown around his shoulders. He tastes like cinnamon and spice, groaning when you lick the sugar straight from his tongue.

When it's cooled, you begin your assembly, sitting back while Carmy trims and remeasures. He draws out a template with a pencil and cuts accordingly, ensuring each piece has a straight edge. You watch in awe as he works, so careful, so attentive. You're fighting not to jump his bones at any given moment.

It's time to build, and Carmy has the perfect plan. He's made a thickened sugar syrup that acts as a glue, hardening when it dries and keeping everything together. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he concentrates, determined not to mess this up for you.

He steps back, then, to let you decorate. You clearly have a vision, your picturesque idea of what you wanted your original creation to look like. Carmy makes you multiple bags of icing in different colours, and melts down candies so you can make windows and doors. He opens packets of chocolates, and carves into them with a knife to make little trees for the yard.

Hours later, when you're both covered in powdered sugar and melted chocolate, you step back to admire your masterpiece.

"Holy shit, Carm."

"We did good, huh?"

"Is there like, a business in this? Can we do this for a living?"

He laughs, the sound vibrating through you from where his chest his pressed to your back. He's got you tightly in his arms, swaying gently to the soft music that plays from the radio.

"What were you saying about finding the one thing I wasn't good at, Berzatto? Hmm?"

He spins you, pressing his forehead into yours.

"I take it back. I take it all back, baby. You're good at everything."

"Especially gingerbread houses."

"Especially gingerbread houses."

You lean up to kiss him, wiping some frosting off his cheek with your thumb.

"Thanks for not making me feel like an idiot."

"I would never. Life is a learning curve, baby, You taught me that."

"I love you," you whisper. "And just so you know, we're never eating that. It's going to have to be display only."

He laughs, full chested and whole hearted, moving his hands to cradle your face.

"I love you too, baker extraordinaire. We don't need to eat it, anyway. We've got all this candy to get through."

You reach behind him to pick up a chocolate, tossing it into your mouth.

"It isn't as sweet as you," you wink.

A blush rises up his cheeks as he rolls his eyes, pulling you in closer.

"Merry Christmas, baby."

"Merry Christmas, Carmen."

[daaawnnn]

not my boyfriend!

synopsis: after attending a christmas party hosted by jisung, you were waiting for your boyfriend to come pick you up. but what if you got approached by a stranger instead? or so you thought. genre: fluff, established relationship pairing: bang chan x gn!reader word count: 928 warnings: mentions of alcohol, reader is intoxicated

“Ugh, my head.” You groaned as you clutched onto your pounding head. Your vision had started to become fuzzy as the time went on. That was the last time you’ll ever be drinking that much, you thought to yourself.

Jisung had invited you to play a little drinking game. A shot would be taken every time you spot someone wearing red or green. 2 shots would be taken if they wore both colours. A mistake was made on your part for indulging in his silly game since it was a Christmas themed party. People would surely turn up in one of those colours, if not both. By the time you got to your seventh shot, you called it quits, jokingly calling Jisung crazy for suggesting a game like that.

The rest of the party, you were socialising with a variety of people and dancing crazily with Jisung due to the boost of confidence that surged through your body from the alcohol. In your inebriated state, you could finally let yourself go and act as if you were someone else. Even if it was just for one night.

Once it was coming to an end, Minho had offered to call your boyfriend to come over whilst complaining how irresponsible you were for drinking so much. You just looked at him meekly while he chided you, not understanding half of the words that were spewing out of his mouth.

It was now past midnight. You were sitting on a bench outside of Jisung’s house, patiently waiting with Minho for your boyfriend to come pick you up. His house was booming with boisterous Christmas music which only worsened your headache. Even though the majority of guests had already left, the celebration didn't have to end according to Jisung.

“Make sure to drink plenty of water before you go to bed.” Minho absentmindedly mentioned as he scrolled through his phone. You looked over at him as he spoke, you couldn’t see him that well but you knew that it was him speaking, before glancing around for any sign of Chan. You were beginning to feel colder the longer you waited.

The sound of a car pulling up immediately caught your attention. You spotted a figure in the distance, increasingly inching towards you. You couldn’t make out their face without having to blink every second. The figure eventually stopped in front of you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He tenderly planted a kiss to the top of your head. Shocked, you pushed him away from you shrieking but to no avail. You gazed back to where you think Minho is, wondering why he was allowing this to happen.

“Woah, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” The ‘stranger’ worriedly questioned.

“Um, yeah, you happened. Why are you touching me? I have a boyfriend.” You turned towards Minho, “Minho why aren’t you helping me out?”

Minho shrugged his shoulders, looking amused. “You don’t need help, you’ll be fine.” You let out a dramatic gasp at that.

The ‘stranger’ was puzzled as to what was happening. He was asked to come, so why were you suddenly pushing him away? “Baby, it’s me. You know, your boyfriend, Chan. I’m here to pick you up.”

Without giving him a second glance, you instantly shook your head. “No, you’re not my boyfriend. Don’t lie to me. You don’t look like him.”

You pulled out your phone and showed the lockscreen to the ‘stranger’. It was a picture of Chan and you with your cheeks squished together with big smiles on your faces.

“See? That’s him. He’s got the cutest dimples to ever exist and his smile is out of this world. You’re not him. I don’t see any dimples and I definitely don’t see a smile that could compare to his. So, could you please go away?” The ‘stranger’ gently took the phone out of your hand, earning a series of protests from you, and lifted it up next to his face.

“Do I still not look like your boyfriend?” The ‘stranger’ said with mock sadness, showing off his dimples with a cheeky grin. You focused on the stranger in front of you and the phone next to his face. As soon as you realised who it was, you threw your arms around him, tightly embracing him.

“Oh, Channie, I missed you.” Your speech was slightly slurred as you smothered him with kisses but he managed to understand what you were trying to say.

He chuckled at your display of affection. “I missed you, too. How much did you have to drink, huh?” He asked, wrapping his arms around you in return.

“Not that much.” You said innocently. He knew you were lying but he wasn’t going to call you out. Not yet.

“Alright, I believe you.” He playfully rolled his eyes. “Let’s get going home, yeah? Don’t want you catching a cold in this weather, love.” He pressed his lips to your forehead then kissed your cheek. You eagerly nodded, agreeing with him.

He waved goodbye to Minho before picking you up and carrying you towards his car. You tried your best to stay awake but it was tough. Being in Chan’s arms could easily lull you into sleep at any moment. The warmth radiating from his body, desperately wanting to fuse with yours, felt comforting. With every step he took, you found it harder to combat sleep until you finally gave in.

“I love you.” You quietly uttered as your eyes fell shut. Chan softly smiled at those words. He caressed your head as you peacefully slept.

“I love you, too.”

©daaawnnn

reblogs are appreciated!

[youryanderedaddy]

Tw: female reader, slight dub-con to con, degradation, sex toys pt.1 Happy Valentine's 💞💞💞

Bitchy mean girl, who basically forces you to come to her house every weekend with the pretext that she needs tutoring - and who's more fitting to help her fix her grades than her favourite little nerd?

You actually come prepared too, pink cutesy backpack stuffed with textbooks, footnotes, highlights and colourful markers. But the moment you step inside her house and Jess sees the sheer academic arsenal you've prepared, she burst into torching, mocking laughter. She flicks at your forehead, wiping off a single tear.

"You really thought we were going to study?" She scoffs, dragging you into her lap - smirking as she watches you panic and whine to be let go. She kisses you roughly, determined to get your lips fully wet and shiny, saliva dripping down your chin once she finally pulls away. "You're more stupid than I thought." The cheerleader grins with endearment. "You're lucky you're so cute."

She takes hold of both your thighs and spreads them apart, leering at the lacy white panties peeking underneath your skirt.

"Looks like you came prepared after all." Jess taunts, playing with the flimsy, frilly pink lining - toying with the little ribon in the middle of it. "Maybe deep down you knew this would happen." She grips your jawline, forcing your head up - eyes set on her lips. "Or ma-aybe... you were actually hoping it would." Her hand slips to your neck. "Which one is it, little slut?"

"N-no, it's not like that!" You try to defend yourself, cheeks heating up by the second. "I-I, I wasn't, I didn't-" You stumble all over your words - but your body betrays you, back arching wantonly as Jess brushes a single finger across your clothed slit. Giggling with content at your desperation, she starts rubbing you over your panties, enjoying the way you squirm and shake your head as if fighting the pleasure.

"You weren't what, nerd? You weren't trying to get yourself fucked like a proper whore?" The girl all but hisses down your throat, biting at your jugular - letting her lips soothe the initial sting. "You weren't trying to be all slutty and cute, making me want you?" You can feel her fingers finally, finally make their way down the elastic band, cupping your mound before the first digit slips inside you, forcing a lewd, breathy moan out of you. "You're so wet for me, yet you keep acting like you don't want it."

Her lips stretch into a thin, self evident smirk as she reaches for something in her pocket you can't make out from beneath her. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes still glassy from her teasing - both anxious and excited to see what's next.

"I have just the right thing for a little bratty bitch like you." Jess pulls you into yet another messy, sloppy kiss, grinning at the sight of your chin stained all over by her bright red lipstick. It makes you look so... hers. "Let's see how long you can hide your true feelings once I have you coming your brains out." She says, teeth bared with a sadistic little gleam in her dark blue eyes. You hear a buzzing sound - and then your vision fills with blurry lines and stars and raw, red - hot pleasure you can feel deep in your guts.

The cheerleader nests the small vibrator snugly against your clit, setting your nerves on fire. It's all too much - her soft, delicate hands touching you all over, the dirty whispers in your ear egging you on, the waves of ecstasy flooding your body each and every second. You try to catch your breath, but every time you open your mouth, the sounds that come out are all whiner and needier than the last.

"Aww, you're already doing so good for me, baby." Jess coos, head resting against your shoulder - holding you down tightly as your body writhes and jumps as if devoid of any control. "See? It's so much better to be honest." She presses the vibrator down once again, watching your button swell and twitch in overstimulation. "Let go completely." She licks your neck, driving you even wilder. "Let me make you mine, m'kay?"

And you think, hell, you might as well.

[the-newlymadeweeb]

I Gotcha.

Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader

Description: three times you promised Luke that you got him. The two times he struggled to believe and finally when he did.

A/N: the gif is not mine, credits to the owner.

************************************************************

The days spent at camp immediately after his failed quest were arguably the worst of Luke's entire life.

He had to drag himself back home with a burnt chunk of an apple, a dragon tooth and half his face destroyed.

You had nursed him back to health. Spending three days straight in the infirmary. The solo quest was a bad idea and you had known it. Luke had gone alone in some sort of attempt to prove himself, seeking glory but now this entire thing had backfired and you couldn't help but worry.

When he awoke he had stared in mute horror at the mirror you held up to his face.

"I tried to minimise the scarring as much as I could, Luke. I couldn't remove it entirely but with the correct balm and scar creams it'll fade," you had explained.

Luke knew you were the best the camp infirmary had but he couldn't explain the rage that boiled within him. This fruitless quest, with its dumb replication to Heracles' and his quest all for the sake of earning his father's attention had permanently marred him.

Physical proof of his father's neglect right there for everyone to witness.

And he would have to carry this stupid scar for the rest of his life.

"Luke?"

His gaze snapped to meet yours, softening slightly, as you placed the mirror facedown on his bedside table.

"Yeah?"

He didn't want to see sympathy in your eyes, no doubt too many campers will be looking upon him like he was a pitiful kicked dog, nor did he want to see disappointment; he wasn't quite sure how he'd stomach that.

But your face held neither of those emotions, instead a strong conviction resided in the lines of your face, lines that you were too young to have, that marked the effects of stress no adolescent should feel.

"I'm gonna take care of you Luke, okay?" You reached out and cupped his uninjured cheek, "I gotcha. I always gotcha."

And wasn't that something.

He reached out cupping your face in his hands, this was his whole world.

"Okay baby; yeah, please."

****************************

Luke had miscalculated. He'd failed to retain the master bolt and the helm of darkness.

Now, he was being punished. Severely. And he hated it but he deserved it. He'd let Kronos down, he needed to learn his lesson so he never makes the same mistake.

The nightmares cut too much into reality though sometimes. His entire body lit aflame but it always got so much worse when he was forced to face a scenario where he had to cut you up so that your pieces would replace the Titan.

He never failed this test, but it always took the most out of him. Even if you always understood his anger, he wasn't sure you'd understand his methods; and at the crack of every dawn, he'd escape his cabin and run to the lake where he knew you'd always be. Like clockwork, watching the sun rise.

This time his skin buzzed with the phantom recollection of his nightmares, he had to scrub at his eyes to clear his vision a few times, mistaking the blood on his hands to be real in his fatigued state.

You sat on the deck, eyes fixed on the changing colours of the sky. He could hear your voice humming a soft nameless tune. This was your ritual, your futile attempts at interactions with your father as he burst across the heavenly dome on his sun chariot.

Nonetheless, Luke always enjoyed the sound of your voice. He'd appreciate it if Apollo never would.

You'd sense his presence as you always did in the early hours and you'd beckon him towards you.

Sitting by your side felt right, amidst all the tension he'd been under. The weight of all his plans. Your song was familiar, the heat and strength of your figure a comfort.

"Nightmares again?" You asked, knowing the answer regardless.

He'd nod.

There were a few truths he was allowed to tell you. Sometimes if he said it with enough of himself, he could fool himself to believe that all you knew weren't mainly lies.

"Come here."

And you'd guide his head to you lap, gentle– loving, like the first rays of the sun. You would card your fingers through his curls, and every now and then lightly ghost your fingertips over the scar on his face.

On occasion, Luke would dream that you were healing him, erasing his scars, erasing his pains.

"I gotcha Luke," you'd murmur, "I always gotcha."

Some mornings he'd fall into a dreamless sleep.

************************

"I gotcha baby," oh he's missed that voice, "I always gotcha, Luke." It's been too long. Days, weeks, months. Years.

You were crying.

Percy and Annabeth were crying too but–

You're crying.

Don't cry.

He's really tired, and it's getting difficult to take a breath. He figures this is the feeling of death and he's trying to not be afraid.

You reach for him, and he forces himself to open his eyes and look at you.

It's not so bad. Your face has always been what he'd like to see last. It's just–

There's so much to say. So many things he has to tell you, to apologise for, to confess, to love and there's no time.

You're so beautiful.

Even covered in soot and monster dust and blood.

Your hands cup his face, fingers instinctively brushing his brows and scar. You keep mumbling small comforts, little assurances. But you don't promise life, because that wouldn't be true and while Luke has been a deceitful liar, you have never been one yourself and you won't lie to him even now.

But you promise that you got him. And he believes you.

"I know baby," He huffs and tries to say, "but now...it's time– time to let me go."

It's a struggle. His vision is blurry, he's really tired.

So he focuses on the feel of you instead, letting his eyes close. This is just like falling asleep.

*****************************************************************************

[jammydodger3579]

Mary Jane Mindset

Summary: Wade and Logan get stoned together.

A/N: this was requested on discord, so hopefully yall like it. Haven't written for Wade before so enjoy. Sorry it's short lol. Patreon here

18+ for mature audiences only

700+ word count.

Warnings: drug use, swearing

“No, absolutely not” 

“Come on, just once... It’s a rite of passage!”

“I’ve done it before and I didn’t like it” Logan looked at the bong in front of him. It was disgusting, bright pink and covered in my little pony stickers. He looked at Wade, who was smiling like a schoolgirl. “Didn’t even work, healing factor and all”

“Not this strain, I grew it myself. From a wee baby plant. I call it “Bruce Banner” cause it’s big, mean and green. Could probably get him stoned too. God knows he needs it” 

“Have you even cleaned this thing?” He picked up the bong, looking at it questioningly. Wade shook his head. 

“Not even once. Keeps the good stuff in” Logan sighed, placing it back down on the coffee table. Wade walked into the kitchen and looked around in a drawer for a bit before walking back to the couch. He chucked some rolling papers at Logan. “Here, is that better?” Wade said, looking at the man. Logan nodded. 

“Okay fine, just this once” Logan said, caving into Wade’s antics. Wade giggled and clapped his hands together. Logan had been living with Wade for the past three weeks, and they seemed to get along enough. Logan mostly tolerated him, especially since he was staying with Wade and Blind Al for free. Wade got out his rolling tray and started grinding up the flower. Logan scoffed, Wade’s whole set-up was pink and purple, and his grinder was the shape of a cinnamon roll. “Cute” 

“You know you love it. Yukio got it for me” “I’m sure she did” Logan handed the rolling papers over to Wade. He started rolling the joint, struggling a little. 

“We’re gonna need water, snacks and something to watch” Wade handed the tv remote to Logan. He flicked through the movie options before settling on one called The Room. “You picked the worst movie in the world!” 

“Not my problem” Logan said with a smirk. He got up and went to the kitchen. He got a bag of pretzels, chocolate biscuits and two glasses of water for himself and Wade. He placed everything down on the coffee table before resuming his seat next to Wade, who’s just finished rolling a joint. He put it between his lips and lit the end of it, puffing out the smoke. He took another puff before handing it to Logan, intentionally blowing smoke in his face. 

“Puff puff pass,” Wade said. Logan nodded, taking the joint. He took a drag, letting the smoke sit in his lungs for a while before exhaling. It had an earthy aftertaste. He did it again before handing the joint back to Wade. The two kept exchanging the joint as they watched the movie. Logan lifted his hand to point something out on the TV.

“Whoa, what the fuck” His whole arm felt like jelly as it was suspended in the air. Wade smiled, exhaling smoke through his nose. 

“You’re cooked” he laughed, looking at Logan. His eyes were bloodshot. Logan sat back on the couch. 

“Whoa, I feel like I’m sinking,” he said, shifting in his seat. Wade finished the joint off, putting it out in an ashtray. He was smiling, watching as Logan adjusts to being properly stoned for the first time. Logan looked around the room, his vision felt colourful. Everything seemed more vibrant and pretty. He looked at the man sitting next to him, face full of fondness. “How long is this gonna last?” 

“At least an hour, maybe longer. It’s trial by fire” Wade shrugged, stretching his arms over his head and yawning. “Man, I could nap right now” 

“Don’t fall asleep, tell me something interesting” 

“Okay well, have I ever told you about all the trolls movies?” Wade said, blinking to keep his eyes open. For the next half hour, Logan gave his full attention to Wade, listening intently. He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved listening to Wade ramble on about something he found interesting. “OH oh oh!! This is my favourite part!” Wade said pointing at the TV. “I did not hit her. It’s not true. It’s bullshit! I did not hit her, I did not! Oh hi, Mark” Wade quoted, doing the accent and everything. Logan smiled at the impression.

“I see why this is the worst movie,” he said, laughing. He didn’t want to admit he was having fun, but his actions gave it away. Wade smiled. 

“Look at you, enjoying yourself. I need to get you stoned more often” 

“Let's not make a habit of it” Logan said in a gruff voice, but he smiled afterwards. He grabbed the bag of pretzels and started eating. Food felt even more delicious than usual.

“There are other drugs we can try” 

“Absolutely not” 

[yeostars]

𓆩♡𓆪 ateez as girl dads / boy dads / or both ;) imo !! {Hyung line ver.}

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Hongjoong- both .ᐟ

I swear, i spent 15 minutes thinking how hongjoong would be a perfect girl AND boy dad.

Like, imagine hongjoong and his s/o have fraternal twins- aka both boy and girl twins. My man would be the happiest dad alive, proud to be the father of two lovely kids, having the best of both worlds.

Something that hongjoong loves the most about his two kiddos is how they are the literal carbon copies of both him and his s/o. Like his baby girl resembles hongjoong and baby boy resembles his mom. He finds that interesting and funny how the twins are literally mini versions of the parents.

Hongjoong, being the fashionista he is, absolutely LOVES dressing up your twins in matching clothes. Everytime he goes shopping with his s/o, he makes sure that every single clothing for both the twins is matching atleast in some way- same pattern, colour, etc.

Takes tons of pics with his kiddos wearing matching clothes. Nearly cries over how adorable his twins look and makes it a mission to make them his little fashionistas & gives them a sense of clothes & their pairings at an early age. Patting their heads in an endearing way is something that is so natural to him.

Expect him to buy matching tees with his s/o too, and sometimes even buy the same printed tee for all four members in the fam, and hang a family photo with the same in your living room. He's blessed to have such a perfect family ^^

Seonghwa- girl dad .ᐟ

See, i always had this vision of hwa being the sweetest girl dad...like, i can definitely imagine him being on cloud nine when he learns that him and his s/o were going to be parents to a baby girl. Literally is more excited and worried about the birth of their baby girl more than his s/o itself. CHEEK!KISSES!TO!HIS!DAUGHTER!ARE!A!MUST!

He's the gentlest and most patient dad ever. he would let her do whatever she wants, would let her do makeup on him and apply nail polish to his nails in the messiest way, while his s/o couldn't stop laughing on how funny hwa looked and high-fived her daughter for making her dad look like a clown. Hwa would be laughing himself, saying that your daughter wouldn't be a small child forever and that he wants her to have a playful and memorable childhood.

When his daughter grows up, she would literally feel like she has two moms. NO SERIOUSLY. hwa acts like a mom more than his s/o itself. literally taught his daughter about cleaning and its importance since she was a mere toddler, was more stressed about her growing up and puberty problems more than the daughter itself.

My conclusion is that hwa would be such a perfect girl dad >< A dad with the traits of both mom and dad. His daughter turns out to be a carbon copy of her dad, no kidding

Yunho- boy dad .ᐟ

GUYS. just hear me out. Yunho's s/o would literally feel like having two Yunho's around in the house after their son is born. One is Yunho itself and another one is baby yuyu aka mini yunho. Yunho literally has heart eyes for his son :(

What Yunho finds the most adorable is when his son tries to copy every single thing Yunho does. When he notices that his son tries to copy every little thing he does, he realizes that he needs to set up a good example for his son, and takes it as a opportunity to teach him basic hygiene and good manners slowly. He's quite successful at that task and his s/o would be impressed and happy that Yunho is doing a great job at parenting.

The most playful dad ever. He encourages his son to indulge in outdoor activities and play sports since a young age, so that his son turns out to be a fit and happy kid.

His s/o notices how their son turned out to be a little ray of sunshine in their lives, just like Yunho himself. Yunho raised his son to be a bright, cheerful kid and his s/o taught him to be patient and caring. Don't be surprised to see him quietly crying in the corner whenever his son does something to make him proud. Actually, anything thay his son does makes him proud :)

Yeosang- girl dad .ᐟ

I would say that its the end of discussion, atleast for me that yeo is a girl dad 😭 he just radiates such girl dad energy its insane- i feel like he'd be quite similar to how hwa is as a girl dad. He'd be just as patient and caring and sweet as him. He never fails to take care of both his s/o and their daughter after she was born. He feels like both their responsibility is now on him, and he never fails to make both of them feel loved and cared for.

Yeosang is the best dad ever. At first, he'd be a little clueless as to how to be a good parent to a baby girl, but as time passed, he feels like all his efforts and hard work paid off when his daughter grows up and calls him "the best daddy ever". Happiest dad to a lovely baby girl.

I can't miss out on the fact about how yeo would love to show off his daughter's skills and achievements ever since she was a little baby to everyone, including his & your parents and his members. He'd be like "That's my baby girl everyone, look at how talented she is."

Forehead kisses while saying good night are a must. Although he isn't someone who initiates physical affection, he loves to do small things such as holding his daughter's hand, patting her head & giving her forehead and cheek kisses whenever he can.

He loves to style his daughter's hair into plaits or something mildly fancy. He loves such quiet moments where he can take care of his daughter and cherishes every moment where spends time with her :(

[loverafey]

look at me ! afab!reader

ꕀ warnings - smut, brief mention of typical violent intrusive thoughts for rafe, rough and then gentle, unestablished relationship, poor guy's just having the worst day ever :( wc - 667.

you didn’t know how to label the relationship you and rafe had.

it wasn’t exactly friends with benefits, definitely not dating. perhaps something in between, something much more worse? much to your dismay, you knew you felt something for him. sometimes you wondered if he did too. he had become so vulnerable with you in the past few weeks, whispering secrets unbeknownst to anyone else, speaking stuff about his father that he never dared to bring up to anyone else. not his sister, not his close friend. no one but you. that had to make you special, right?

although tonight, it was different. he wasn’t soft or vulnerable, he was angry — frustration threatening to burst out after a deal gone wrong, everything gone wrong — and you were the willing subject of it.

big hands roughly gripped your sides, not too hard to bruise you for now as his cock pistoned in and out your weeping hole, your throbbing clit neglected. it was clear that he was chasing after his own pleasure, wanting to get his mind off from everything that was plaguing it.

disappointment and not being taken seriously pissed him off to the core, and that man from earlier who subtly mocked him this morning while talking over some deal made him want to do nothing but grab that guy and bash his head over and over on the table. a satisfactory sight that would’ve been, but he was not going to do that shit anymore. he had promised himself to change for the better, and then perhaps, perhaps, he could properly talk about his feelings to you one day. make you his forever.

never let you catch the slighest glimpse of the violence ensuing in his fucked up mind.

watching the way your eyes rolled back and squeezed shut at his harsh thrusts alongside your shaky and loud whimpers, his annoyance just flared. “look at me.”

you hadn’t heard him properly, mind already having melted to mush from the overwhelming pleasure spreading through your body, mouth agape. your attention only snapped at him when you felt his hand gripping the side of your face, his thumb taking advantage of your parted lips and pushing right in, pressing against your tongue.

“i said fucking look at me.”

your eyes soon met his, your vision somewhat bleary. he just looked so beautiful, cheeks notably flushed and his skin glistening a bit, orange hues colouring his skin due to the light from the sun setting outside the window flowing in. his brows were drawn together, grunts leaving his lips. he’d always been loud.

“good. i like it better when you look at me.” he huffed, fingers tracing their path down to your neck, caressing there gently. “no one makes you feel like this, yeah? no one but me.” it was like a plea for approval.

“yes..!” it was so hard to speak, your voice mixing in with a moan once you felt his cock bump against your sweet spot again, your legs trembling, aching from exhaustion. “only you, rafe.” your hands soon came to cup his face. his hips stuttered at that, eyes softening. god, he just wanted to cry, but not in front of you. not yet.

“mmh, yeah?” he breathed out hoarsely, leaning down to press a soft kiss on the side of your mouth. intimacy — a concept so sickening yet warming to him. something he was only willing to commit with you.

you nodded, tilting your head slightly so you could keep looking at him, memorising the way his brows visibly relaxed, his eyes just staring right into you.

“just… just keep looking at me.” his hand gently wrapped around your throat, not squeezing by any means, a simple hold. it felt nice, and you hummed, feeling his other hand slip between your legs, helping you reach your peak by rubbing the bundle of nerves. “need to see your face when you cum.”

fuck, all he needed was you to forget about his horrible day. his baby.

[strawb3rryscorpio]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 | 𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ( 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 )

pairing: joel miller x afab!reader summary: nothing had been the same since the day of the outbreak, the day you lost sarah. trying to be there for joel, even as he shielded his emotions and grew more distant by the day, was manageable for the first fifteen years, but eventually, you were bound to get tired. chapter warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of death and the end of the world. pls let me know if i missed any! author's note: hi guys! this was inspired by an anonymous request and i thought i could do a little mini series based off of it so like 4-5 parts at most. also, this is very loosely inspired by the song evermore of the evermore album (aka taylor's best album) anyways, i really hope you guys enjoy this!!!

❛ I had a feeling so peculiar That this pain would be for Evermore ❜

October 2023

It had been three weeks. Twenty-one days. Almost a month since the world crumbled into chaos and since you lost your Sarah. The silence between you, Joel and Tommy was suffocating, but was something you soon learned not to address. Words were kept to a minimum, maybe ten a day at most, spoken between you all. Even the trees and wildlife around you seemed to have absorbed the weight of your grief, their once vibrant colours and life now muted and dull. Ever since Sarah was ripped from your lives, it felt like the entire world had drained of colour, leaving everything in shades of gray—your mind, your surroundings, your Joel—everything was drained of life.

The day she was shot, you felt your whole word falling apart. And Joel had been holding the shattered pieces of his heart in his hands, and you knew he would need time, a long time, to even begin to process and heal. You all needed time, but that was his baby, his daughter. The thought always found its way back into your mind: how could anyone heal from such a wound? It wasn’t something you could heal from—it was a scar that would never fade, just something you learned to live with.

You understood, more than anyone, that Joel needed to grieve in his own way. You were willing to give him all the space he needed, even if it left you feeling helpless. But as someone who loved and cared for him, you couldn’t help but pry, hoping to uncover even the smallest bit of his pain. You needed to know what he was feeling—more for your own sake than anything else. The thought of losing him as well was too much, too scary.

“Joel?” you whispered, your voice as fragile as glass. Tommy whipped his head toward you, his eyes wide as if you had just dropped a bomb. Tommy might have been intimidated by Joel, but you weren’t; nothing he could say would hurt you or drive you away, especially after everything that had happened in the last few weeks. “Joel, baby?” you whispered again when he didn’t respond. At first, you thought your words had been gone unheard but then he turned to you, his expression unreadable.

You hesitated, your mind flooding with conflicting thoughts. Should you let it go and let him climb further into his shell, or should you risk it, asking if he was okay, even if it was for your own selfish need? The second option tugged at you, promising a sliver of comfort, which you very much needed.

You said nothing as you quickened your pace, drawing level with him. Tommy, sensing the shift, slowed his steps, giving you and Joel space. “Joel, I need you to talk to me, baby,” you said, stopping in your tracks and turning toward him. You reached up, your hand trembling slightly as you caressed his rugged jaw, feeling the coarse texture of his beard under your fingertips. His skin, kissed by the setting sun, glowed like honey, but his eyes—those deep brown, once full of life eyes—were now dark, cold and unreadable. “I need to know if you’re okay,” you added, your voice cracking like a twig underfoot. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision, because his eyes, once warm and full of life, were now hollowed out by grief, and he looked like a different person.

He stared at you, his lips trembling as if words were trying to escape, but they remained inside. “Joel, if you want to say something, say it, baby,” you murmured, bringing your other hand to his face, cupping his cheeks gently. “I’m here for you, Joel. That might seem insignificant right now, but if you talk about things, it might help,” you uttered, your hands slipping into his hair, a gesture you had done so often that it became second nature.

But instead of leaning into your touch, he grabbed your wrists, pulling them down with a force that startled you. “This is not some fucking therapy session!” he exploded, his voice slicing through the air like a knife. His eyes were wide with anger, as if a storm was brewing within. Tommy started walking over, alarmed by the yelling, but you held up a hand, signaling for him to stay back. This was between you and Joel. “This ain’t some stupid shit like my dog died or something. I lost my Sarah, my everything,” he continued, his voice cracking, the anger giving way to a sadness you knew was there but never saw. Tears streamed down both of your faces, along with the dust and sweat from weeks worth of being outside. “So no, I’m not okay. I will not be okay, so stop asking dumb fucking questions and leave me the fuck alone!” he roared, his breath hot and ragged on your face. You could feel the rage and sadness in his body, his heart racing so fast, it almost scared you. It should have scared you, but it didn’t.

In any other situation, his yelling would have cut deep, hurt you in ways words usually did. You might have even broken down, and started crying. But instead, you felt a weird sense of satisfaction, knowing that you had finally cracked through his walls, even if only a little. You hated that it took his anger to reach this point, but at least he wasn’t completely shutting you out.

You nodded slowly, acknowledging his pain, his rage, his brokenness. Tommy walked over, his expression tense and uncomfortable, the air between you all thick with tension. “Why don’t we set up camp here for the night?” he suggested, his voice soft, almost pleading. He knew Joel needed rest, and maybe the quiet of the night would soothe some of the intense emotions. “I’ll keep watch tonight, and one of you can make it up to me tomorrow night.” You nodded again, and Tommy took it as a ‘yes’ from both you and Joel.

You found a small cave, a dark hollow in the side of the short hill, where you could set up your sleeping bags. You laid yours right next to Joel’s. As you packed away the day’s equipment into your pack, Joel had already retreated into the cave, laying in his sleeping bag.

“You okay?” Tommy asked, his eyes bloodshot from exhaustion, the weight of the past weeks etched into his features.

“Yeah, Tommy, I’m fine,” you replied, zipping up your pack with more force than necessary, the fabric resisting for a moment before giving way.

“Sorry on his behalf for yelling at you like that. He lost Sarah, but so did you—so did both of us,” he said, the sadness in his tone a heavy, suffocating thing.

“No need to apologize for him, Tommy. I’m just the tiniest bit glad he said something to me. That’s the most he’s said to me since that day,” you said, your voice cracking as a thick tear rolled down your cheek. “At least I know what he’s feeling,” you added, and he nodded, understanding the small victory.

You walked over to him, pulling him into a tight embrace, your arms wrapped around him eagerly. He returned the hug, clinging to you as if you were the only thing keeping him together in that moment. You both thought about Joel all day, every day, and you realized you had neglected to check on Tommy. He had lost his niece, too, a bond that was so strong and so full of love.

“You okay?” you asked again, pulling away slightly to look him in the eyes, searching for an answer.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. There don’t seem to be any infected or people nearby, so I’ll be good,” he replied, scanning the area with a practiced eye, the soldier in him never fully gone.

“No, Tommy, I mean with everything,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you fiddled with the zipper on your coat. The nights were colder now, the darkness thicker, wrapping around you all.

“Yeah, I will be. We will be,” he said, the tears finally spilling over, leaving wet paths down his dusty cheeks. “But I don’t know about him,” he added, nodding toward the cave where Joel lay, his tone heavy with uncertainty.

“Me neither, but we can try,” you replied, your voice trembling with fear and sadness, the weight of it all pressing down on you. He nodded, and you grabbed your pack, heading into the cave, seeking the small comfort of sleep.

“You’ll be okay out here?” you asked, your hand resting on the cold stone as you prepared to crawl into the small cave.

“Yeah, always am,” he replied with a tight, tired smile. “Go to sleep, sweetheart,” he added, and you returned the smile, though it felt hollow.

You crawled into the cave, your eyes adjusting to the darkness as you made out Joel’s outline, his body curled up in the tight space. He was asleep—or at least you hoped he was—his back turned to you. You crawled over to him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating through the sleeping bag. Wrapping your arm around his torso, you rested your face against his back, breathing in his musky, earthy scent, a reminder of the man you loved, the man who was still here, even if only in body. The night outside was alive with the sounds of crickets and rustling leaves, a sound that once would have been comforting for you but now filled you with unease and fear.

You looked up, your eyes searching the starless sky as if seeking answers from God who you felt had long since turned away. You prayed, your thoughts a desperate plea that Joel would always be there with you. No matter where you were, no matter how awful the world became, the only thing that mattered was that you were together. You shut your eyes, the exhaustion of the day crashing over you like a wave, pulling you into a restless sleep, your arm still wrapped around Joel, holding on to him like you're life depended on it.

And at this point, it did.

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: waxplay

pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

wc: 2k

waxplay: a form of temperature play in which wax from a candle is dripped onto a person's naked skin

You were incredibly lucky to have a boyfriend like Hyunjin. He was sweet, funny, talented, such a gentleman - and completely and utterly infatuated with you. The two of you could be in a room full of people, and his eyes would be fixated directly on you the whole time. Most of your time together was spent with Hyunjin either attached to your hip, or gazing at you in adoration.

Most of the time.

You were currently lounging on his bed, while he sat across the room from you, painting at his easel. You couldn't complain, really - he gave you almost unlimited amounts of attention. It was okay that he wasn't focused on you at that moment. Or it would be okay, if you weren't unbearably horny.

Just seeing him sitting there, examining his sketch the way he'd examined your naked body so many times before… it did something to you. The room was dimly lit, with a string of fairy lights and a candle providing all of the illumination, save for a lamp pointed directly at a Hyunjin's canvas. The warm light was making him look positively angelic. His skin was glowing. He was shirtless, and you couldn't stop your eyes from exploring the planes of his neck, his shoulders, collarbones, pecs, stomach.

His hair was tied up in a messy bun at the base of his neck, though a few strands had fallen loose, which he'd tucked behind his ears. His eyebrows were furrowed gently, the cogs in his brain whirring away as he worked.

He was so fucking beautiful. You needed him.

"How's it coming along, baby?" you asked.

"Mm," he made a noise of affirmation. "Good so far."

You could usually tell his levels of engagement by how in-depth his responses were. A long ramble about the colour pallette, the shading, the linework? That meant he was still in the realm of the living. "Mm, good so far"? Yeah, he was gone. You might be in his peripheral vision, but on a conscious level, the only things in existence are himself, his paints, and the canvas.

You were going to have to work hard.

Hyunjin's face was barely an inch away from the canvas, and he didn't even look up at the quiet rustling sounds of you removing your clothes. You wondered if he even heard, or if his brain filtered the disturbance out.

"What’s your very favourite thing to paint, Hyunjin?" you asked, settling back on his bed, now naked.

"I like painting lots of things," he murmured, still not looking over at you. "I like painting you."

"You like painting me?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "My beauty."

This made you beam. Disengaged as he was at the moment, you knew he truly meant it.

"Paint me now," you suggested.

"I can do another painting of you next," he compromised.

"Fine. Paint on me now."

Ah. You'd piqued his interest with this line. He turned around, eyebrow raised in question, before he saw you. Completely naked, lounging on his bed, paint me like one of your French girls style. His mouth fell open, his eyes scanning your body.

You waited for him to speak. And waited… and waited.

"I don't know if these paints are skin-friendly."

You snorted. What a Hyunjin response. Your comfort and safety is always paramount with him. "Okay, then. Don't use paint. Use…" You pointed to the candle on the side table. "That."

He looked to the candle. Then back to you. "I don't know if the wax is skin-friendly."

"Hyunjin."

"It could burn you, honey! I don't know much about that stuff-"

"It'll be fine. Promise. Plus, isn't burning me the whole point?"

He looked at you, straightfaced. "A little burn, maybe. Scalding your skin straight off? No."

You rolled your eyes. "C'mon, Hyun. It's gonna be fine. I know you wanna try this - I can see it in your eyes."

Hyunjin sighed. "Fine. Let me get a clean brush, okay?"

"Okay!" you said with a grin, laying on your back and waiting for him to prepare.

Moments later, he climbed onto the bed, straddling you. Hard already, you mused, feeling his bulge press against your crotch. Unsurprising. He always was quick to excite, when you were involved.

He had the candle in one hand, a clean paintbrush in the other, and an excited look in his eye. "Are you sure about this?" he asked.

You nodded up at him, almost trembling with anticipation. You could smell the candle, black cherry scented, and could feel the warmth from the flame. Hyunjin dipped the paintbrush into the hot wax, and brought it down to your skin.

Oh. It was hot, but not as scalding as you thought it would be. Not as painful as you had been fearing - or hoping? You felt a slight burn, but nothing that made you leap up in agony. No, it made your skin tingle. It made your clit throb, your pussy tense. It was good.

Hyunjin was looking at you, rather than his artwork, his eyes staring deeply into your own. "That okay?"

You nodded. "More."

He repeated the motion. Dipped the paintbrush into the wax, and smeared it across your skin in one long, delicate brushstroke. You exhaled heavily. The only thing on your mind was the sensation of the wax - the hardening wax, which was beginning to cool, and the fresh, hot, wet wax, melting into your skin, into your very core.

You loved to watch your man paint. You loved it even more when you were acting as his canvas. Having his full attention on you, on your body, was dizzying. You felt electric.

He was clearly working on something, you could tell this from the careful deliberation of his brushstrokes across your stomach. He was getting into the zone, making you his masterpiece. But, in all honesty, you didn't give a fuck about the art. That wasn't something you'd ever thought before, not about Hyunjin's work at least, but the hot wax coating your skin was making you positively delirious with sheer arousal. You wanted more, needed more.

"More?" he asked. Oh. Had you said that out loud?

"Feels so good, Hyune," you whined.

"I don't know how I can give you more - do you want me to pour it straight on? That might hurt…" He frowned, considering this.

"Don't care!" you insisted. "Want it to hurt. Please."

He considered it for a moment. "Alright. But let me know if it's too much, okay? I'll wipe it off straight away." You nodded quickly in agreement.

Slowly, teasingly, Hyunjin titled the candle over your body. The first red drop landed in the centre of your abdomen. It felt white-hot in the best possible way.

Another drop, slightly more substantial. You saw stars behind your eyes.

Another one, a slow pour. The scent was overwhelming your senses now, thick, rich, fruity. It was everywhere, yet you couldn't get enough.

"Hyun-"

"Yeah?" he asked, at attention within an instant.

"Tits - on my tits, please."

Hyunjin followed your command. Slowly, he titled the candle, letting a slow trail of wax dribble across your chest. It felt like molten lava, spilling across your curves, down the slope of your breasts, covering you, painting your skin scarlet.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

"More than okay," you confirmed. "Why the fuck did we never think of trying this before?"

Hyunjin smiled down at you sweetly. "I'm glad you're enjoying it, baby."

He was enjoying it too, from what you could feel grinding into your pubic mound. Your fingers went to his waistband, tugging at it, and he followed your cues, knowing exactly what you were after. He reached into his trousers, pulling down the waistband and lifting his dick and balls out over it. You sighed happily, grasping his dick gently and lazily stroking it as you lay beneath him, absorbing the sensation.

The weight of his dick in your hands, the hardened wax pulling at your skin, the heat of the fresh wax. The scent. Your boyfriend above you, looking like an angel. It was all tipping you over the edge. You couldn't help but moan out loud.

Hyunjin was getting distracted, you could tell. His cock was twitching in your grasp repeatedly, his hips stuttering along with your strokes. A lot of the time, he was very good at holding back his own pleasure while he tended to you. Other times, not so much. And who could blame him, with the excitement of trying something so new and sexy?

"Feels so good, Hyunjin," you told him earnestly. "Do you wanna feel too?"

He paused, looking up at you. "Hm? Me?"

"Only if you want to… I'm just thinking about how pretty your dick would look, with wax dripped all over it.

"Oh."

"Oh?" you asked.

"Oh."

He liked that idea.

"Not just yet. Wait til I'm - wait til I'm closer. Wanna see if it can push me over the edge." Hyunjin's cheeks were dusted with pink.

Get Hyunjin closer to the edge? If there was anything you could do, it was that. You swiped your thumb over the tip of his dick, gathering the precum that had leaked out of his slit and using it to slick up his shaft. You stroked with more fervour, quickly, tightening your grasp just the way he liked it.

He sighed, running his spare hand through his hair, casting back the strands that had fallen loose of his hair tie. He bit down on his lip hard, stifling a whimper. If you knew that noise (which you did, quite well) it meant that he wasn't too far off.

"Oh - baby, I'm - hold it for me, yeah?"

You nodded and did as he asked, holding his cock steady. He moved slowly, just as he had with you, allowing just a single droplet of wax drip onto the base of his shaft, letting out a strangled moan as he did so.

"How does it feel?" you asked, captivated by his reactions.

He looked up from his dick to meet your gaze, and you noted the tears in his eyes. "Hot. Good."

"More, baby."

He did so, letting another drop fall. It rolled down the length of his shaft, and he cried out. Another drop, bigger again. Bravely, he made one long, smooth pour, right along his member. He hissed at the feeling, the pace of his breaths picking up.

It was a fucking gorgeous sight. His long, beautiful dick, decorated as always with light purple veins, and tonight with deep red wax. It was hot within your hold, twitching relentlessly at the brand new sensations.

"Doing so well, baby," you coaxed him, giving his dick just the gentlest squeeze in your grasp.

He angled the candle over his tip, letting a single drop fall onto his exposed head. He yelped at this, a sensation so strong you felt you could barely imagine it. Merely a second later, his cock began to pulsate, once, twice, and on the third time, a single rope spurted onto your tummy. He erupted, cumming hard and heavily, painting over the red wax with hot, white cum.

"There you go, baby," you encouraged him through his climax. "So much cum, such a pretty dick."

He sat back with a long exhale, catching his breath. "That was nice."

You giggled at the understatement. "Yeah. Nice."

Hyunjin was grinning, the smile reaching his eyes. "Look at our art. We made that together."

You looked down at your torso. It was lovely, in a strange, artistic way.

"It looks like a sunset," he claimed. You wouldn't go that far - it was more like a red sea splashed with white - but it was very nice.

"Let's clean up, yeah?"

Hyunjin gasped. "No. Let me take some pictures first."

You were very used to this; you knew the drill. Hyunjin had been into erotic photography for a few months now, and it had become a regular aspect of your bedroom activities.

"Okay," he said, sounding satisfied after a few minutes of clicking photographs. "Let's go shower. And then… I'm finished painting for tonight. Back to bed and we can make love some more?"

You beamed up at him. "Sounds good to me."

[haikyu-mp4]

Paradise

word count; 550 – f!reader

You just finished feeding your baby in the nursery before heading down the hallway to check in where your husband was responsible for getting your daughter ready for her first day in school. As you hear him talk, you stop behind the wall, silently leaning against it to take in the slow moment of the morning and listen to two of the three most precious people in your life.

“What do you want for your hair, princess? I was thinking this, maybe?” Tendo said, and you could just imagine him holding up the accessories he thought she looked the cutest with. Your husband might have seemed excited to help her get ready, but you knew him well enough to hear the nervousness behind it. It’s her first day at school and Tendo never had the most luck making friends when he was her age. How unlucky his daughter was to inherit so much of him, he thought sometimes. Curse his insecure thoughts, but he worried for her. “This bow suits your hair colour.” Her fiery red hair.

“Can you do the ballerina bun with the bow, s'il vous plait?” she asked, ever so politely practising her French.

“I can try, but it might not be as good as when your mom does it.” he said with a soft chuckle, already getting the hair gel and proper brush from the cupboard. Your daughter hummed her little songs, reminding you so much of your husband who somehow could follow along with her made-up lyrics.

Satori carefully distributed the tiniest amount of gel he would need throughout her hair and brushed it back, muttering small sorries when it looked like he pulled on some hair he didn’t mean to. After finally getting it in a hair tie, he had to stop and actually breathe. That’s when he noticed a small bump or two on one side, but he knew you could fix that later so he got started on the bun. The final product was nothing short of pretty good.

Your daughter carefully turned around on the step she stood on in front of the sink. “Up, up!” Satori lifted her and spun her around once when she made grabby hands for him to pick her up. Her giggles were such a joy that always filled your house with love. Satori was already thinking that they needed to take lots of pictures before you all left, but then his daughter's arms blocked his vision of the mirror. She was less carefully placing a matching bow in his hair, which the hair clip could barely hold on to at this length. It had grown out a bit since he shaved it last, so the clip held on for now. Pulling her hands back, she smiled at him and clapped. “It suits our hair colour, daddy!”

And when he looked at his beautiful daughter, he didn’t just see what he used to dislike about himself. He also saw so much of you. Your nose, your smile, your love. His daughter is really the most perfect thing he ever laid his eyes on, except maybe you.

Maybe he should trust that the universe has a plan for her, just like it gifted him with this family. His paradise.

“Let’s go make some new friends, miracle girl.”

masterlist

[neteyamslovrr]

RETURN - PT 2

summary: five years ago he left you. left you alone with nothing but memories of your love. so how dare he come back now?

contents: fighting, panic attack, anxiety, crying, angst angst angst, aged up neteyam, fem!reader, conflict, 1.8k words

authors note: WOOOO pt2!! ik the stories a lil slow rn BUT the juice is juicing is it not

previous / next

As soon as you uttered those words to him, you span on your heels. Rushing out of the crowd trying to find some escape from the man longingly gazing at your running figure.

Why was he back? He left you along with his family years ago. So why when your mind was starting to calm down from the storm he decides to come back like a bolt of lightning, lighting up the entire sky.

You could hear his calls from behind you, maybe he was chasing after you. You weren’t entirely sure. You were too afraid to look back and see that he wasn’t. That he would let you slip away from him when you were so easy to grasp onto again.

All the feelings, all the sorrow that you supressed for five years were bubbling in your chest again. Suffocating you, as your vision blurred from the unwanted tears welling your eyes. Feelings so intense it was like they had wrapped their hands around your neck, not letting even the tiniest gasp out.

Though you kept rushing away from the scene, even if your body was begging you to slow your pace, to try and take a deep breath. You didn’t. Your feet just kept moving.

His voice rung in your head. Swirling around you as if it was taunting your state. ‘Y/N…let go’ rung inside of you. Over and over again. His sweet voice tingling everything inside of you. His sweet ,sweet voice destroying you, everything that you ever were. Making you into a shell of a woman for five years. Let go.

It kept talking and talking. He kept talking and talking. His voice growing louder. The words jumbling into incoherent noises as you gripped onto your chest gasping for air. The aura around you was muggy, creating a sheen of sweat on the entirety of your body, your baby hairs sticking to your forehead.

“Y/N?” It was too clear, not jumbled enough, as if he was right behind you. Whispering your name so softly off his tongue.

You turned hesitantly, seeing Neteyam hovering over you, reaching his hand out to touch the soft skin of your shoulder.

His hand was cool, a stark contrast to the heat radiating off of your body. His brows were knotted with concern, eyes staring so deeply into you, it felt as if he was trying to have a staring contest with your soul.

The more you looked at him, still trying to regulate your harsh breathing you realised just how much he had changed. He was maybe an entire foot taller then when you had last seen him. His muscles were larger, his entire body broader as his chest heaved. His chest had a large scar, a cavity like scar that was closer to a pinkish colour.

It stood out like stars showing in daytime. His face was tougher, the soft look he once had, changing into a harder one. Matched with long braids that went down to his pecs.

“Y/N? Please.” Your eyes snapped back to his, the grip on your shoulder becoming mind-consuming. Anger filling your core again, rising through your entire body as the air you were gasping for before, was taken in to exhale your agitated sigh.

“Let go.” Your voice was harsh. Nothing like he remembered, you were so different to how he remembered.

Neteyam tried desperately to not remember you by your last encounter. He tried to forget the way you choked on your sobs. He tried to forget the way you begged and begged him. He tried to forget the way you gripped onto him so hard, your nails left bleeding crescents in his legs.

He rather tried to remember the parts of you that he fell in love with. Your soft smile, your sweet voice, your kindness. Your patience, your skill, you. He loved you.

But now as he touched your skin for the first time in what felt like forever, it felt as if he had lost that woman. “Please, I need to talk to you.”

“About what.” You spat at him, shaking his grip off your shoulder.

“Everything.”

“There is nothing to talk about.”

“Yes there is! Y/N there is so much to talk about!” You shook your head, sucking on your bottom lip for a moment to stop a small cry escape from your mouth. “Please.”

“What should we talk about then? Hm?” Your tone was cruel, but you felt no remorse. Right now as you stared at him, you were nothing but angry.

“Apologies.”

“I don’t want your apologies Neteyam. All I wanted was to come with you. Our journey ended a long time ago.” Your words shattered his heart, it hurt you as well. You loved Neteyam. He was all you ever wanted, but you were hurt, you were broken without him, and were put back together with missing pieces.

“No- No it’s not. I’m back. We can be back together-” A mean chuckle escaped your lips.

“What makes you think that you can keep walking in and out of my life?!”

“I had to leave Y/N!”

“And I could’ve come!” You pushed him slightly, hands crazing the scar on his chest. He stumbled back, shaking his head as he looked down at you.

“It wasn’t safe for you Y/N…”

“Oh…I never thought of that! I never thought that escaping war WOULD BE UNSAFE! You got to leave! You got to escape! I was stuck here Neteyam! I was stuck with the sky-people! Do you think they stopped just because your oh so wanted daddy left? NO! So many of us have perished to their weapons. So many.” You didn’t realise that you were punching his chest with every sentence, wrath racking through you as Neteyam stared down at you with teary eyes, taking your punches with pursed lips.

“Beautiful you know I didn’t want to leave you. But it was for the better, I had to.”

“Stop lying to me Neteyam.”

“I’m not lying to you. Please baby.”

“I’m not your baby! Fuck! You left me! You can’t- You can’t just come back and demand me. Do you know how hard it was to let you go?” Neteyam shook his head, pained at the way your voice kept cracking. “I didn’t move for months. I cried non-stop. I didn’t eat, I didn’t hunt. I didn’t do anything. You left me and you took everything that I was with you.”

“I-I’m back…I didn’t want to hurt you, I just needed you to be safe, I couldn’t take you from the forest. Please baby- Y/N, I’m here to fix this. I would’ve never left if I had a choice.” Neteyam was in tears, sticky water dripping down his hollow cheeks as he gripped tightly onto your knuckles. He tried to stare into your eyes, but you avoided his gaze.

“This can’t be fixed Neteyam.”

“No. No it can- Please just fuck. Please. Give me another chance-”

“We can’t do this Neteyam. We can’t just keep begging each other for love.”

“We can do this. We can.”

“Y/N!” Looking behind Neteyams wide shoulders was a stomping Va’tep. His braids swinging aggressively along his back as his gaze sent daggers into the both of you.

You ripped your hands out of Neteyam’s grasp, wiping the tears off your face, straightening your posture as you waltzed towards Va’tep.

“Where the fuck did you go?!” He was racing towards you, feet crushing into the dirt as his rough hands ran down your body looking for any injuries.

“A walk.”

“Are you kidding me? A walk?”

“Yes…I went for a walk.”

���Sure.” Va’tep rolled his eyes, getting the loose hairs out of your face and tucking them behind your ears.

Neteyam stared at you with another man’s hands on you. His heart grew sour, a low growl escaping him as he tried to supress the urge to slit the man’s throat. Neteyam inched closer to the pair, analysing every single thing about them.

The way you leant out of his touch, the way his hands dragged down your body instead of caressing it, the way Va’tep’s eyes wouldn’t linger on you for long enough. He was inferior, what ever he was to you. He was shameful at it.

Even if Neteyam’s face was still stained in tears, he was intimidating to the man in front of you. “Actually…Y/N and I were talking.”

You winced at the way Va’tep’s grip on your arm got extremely tight, as he looked at the man challenging him. He hated challenges.

“Oh! It’s the mighty warrior! Neteyam Sully.” Va’tep let go of you harshly to give Neteyam a rough pat to the back. “He has come running back as fast as he ran away!” Neteyam hissed at him, pushing Va’tep harshly making sure he stumbled on his feet.

“Watch your words.” Neteyam had a finger pointed at Va’tep, if he inched any closer it would be planted right on the middle of his chest.

“Why should I?”

“Or else I’ll make you.” You tried to let out a shout, warning them to stop fighting but it was useless. They were too caught up with their own ego’s they would never listen to you.

“Just like you made Y/N stay?” Neteyam’s face dropped, horrified that his actions were brought up by Va’tep. “Yeah…I was left to clean up your mess, you’re a dick y’know that? Eywa looks down on those who do nothing to respect the sacred bonds.” Va’tep’s teeth were bared as he uttered his arguments.

“You know nothing. Know your place.” Neteyam hissed at him, hand gripped onto the handle of his knife.

“Know your place mighty warrior. Y/N is my mate.”

Neteyam’s head snapped towards you looking for you to deny his words. But all you could do was look down, head hung in shame.

His heart felt heavy. His entire body aching as he stared at you hopelessly. Had he completely lost you? Was his hopes to get you back too naïve?

“You mated with him?”

“No!” Va’tep hissed at your fast reply.

“We are promised…Neteyam. Letting you know because your family has a history of disrespecting bonds.” Va’tep chuckled as he referred to Neteyam’s parents, earning a hearty growl out of Neteyams chest, his tail lashing through the air.

Neteyam looked over to your slanted posture, the way you picked anxiously at your nails watching the two men in front of you interact. He had to leave. Before he did something stupid. He’d be back for you, he was sure of it.

Neteyam turned in a huff, walking back to his family. His shoulders swinging as he stomped away like a hurt child.

Va’tep chuckled walking back over to you, letting his strong arm rest across your shoulders. “I guess the sea always brings in trash.”

But the light always reflects the treasures. And Neteyam was shining.

series taglist: @notsaelty @mommyneytiri @hannabanana-09 @gloryavila @peachinsominac @jaidalise @neqeyam @hello222sthings @tsuteysyawntu @neyetams @yhern05 @emjeez @adaiasafira @kiri-tuk @yaya6765 @biscuitbeater15 @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @plooloo @savvysscandles @dilucslilmeowmeow @69cocktimusprime @newjeansbonnie @chatoicboy @pinkpantheris @plzfeedmebread @afro-hispwriter @lollife1617 @goddesslilithmoriarty @cinetrix @grierpilots @melsunshine @valentineheartzz @tsveria

normal taglist: @8resa @ilovejakesullysdick @neteyamsblog @live-laugh-neteyam @reyalvr @trashfox @darkacademictrash @scntfrhs @dreamyescapesfromreality @fanboyluvr @neteyamzmate @neteyamyawne @neteyamssbaby @oceanstar19 @sharkybabe9

[zero00kiryu00]

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader (ATEEZ) Length: 4.5k words || (ao3 link) || Genre: Romance, NSFW, AU - Roommates/Housemates Warning Tags: Masturbation, edgeplay, sexual fantasies, like super minor exhibitionism kink, scent kink, cumshot, dirty talk. Synopsis: She had dropped a pair of panties on the floor on her way to do laundry… and Wooyoung couldn’t help himself. Sticky fingers, indeed. A/N: I had brain rot, and I am shameless. Enjoy.

BY CLICKING "READ MORE," YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT, AS STATED IN THE WARNING. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

He knew he shouldn’t have done it. 

He knew it was wrong. 

But, fuck, he couldn’t help himself. 

They sat there, right in front of him in the middle of the hallway, caught between the length of her bedroom and the laundry room, only strides away from him. They mocked him, taunted him, jeered at him, and stared him right in the face to toy with his temptation, practically begging for him to pick them up. He could have turned away. He could have ignored them, left them to be found by their owner, retrieved with a sigh of relief and an anxious glance around the room. He could have done that. No, he should have done that. But he couldn’t help himself. 

It was a stray pair of baby pink panties that sat on the taupe-coloured carpet runner. 

A stray pair of baby pink panties with a small white bow on the front. 

A stray pair of baby pink panties with a pretty white bow on the front and white scallop lace trim along the seams. 

A stray pair of baby pink panties with a pretty white bow on the front, white scallop lace time, and a heart-shaped peek-a-boo cutout on the ass. 

He couldn’t help himself. 

Within seconds, those panties – those adorably slutty baby pink panties – wound up stuffed deep into the pocket of Wooyoung’s grey sweatpants. His heart thumped erratically in his chest from the adrenaline that he felt when he stuffed them away unceremoniously into his pocket, fingers shaking, fearful of being caught. His eyes trailed up the carpet runner, making sure she didn’t suddenly appear from the laundry room in search of her missing garment. He heard nothing else aside from his shallow breathing and the sounds of her faint humming while she shoved her laundry into the basin of the washing machine, the clink of a button against metal ringing once or twice over. He took that opportunity to duck away into the bathroom, closing the door as naturally as he could muster to avoid raising suspicion before locking it with feverish rapidity. 

The minute he knew he was safe, Wooyoung turned his back to the door and leaned over the sink. The chill of the porcelain basin was a shocking contrast to the warm sweat covering his palms. He stared blankly into the drain, mind still racing from the adrenaline, and tried to calm himself down by focusing on a stray bit of water that dripped distressingly slowly into the drain. He couldn’t believe he had done that. Couldn't believe he had stolen a pair of panties, let alone a pair that belonged to her, his roommate. The pair of them had barely spoken to each other in the seven months they had lived together aside from the usual pleasantries – those things tended to happen when one needed a roommate quickly to avoid losing a lease. 

Wooyoung tore his gaze away from his meditation into the void of the drain, staring at his reflection in the mirror, wispy strands of black hair catching in his eyelashes, a slight sheen of sweat beading along his browline. A faint flush coated his cheeks, lips parted as he sucked in a breath and swallowed hard. He really couldn’t believe he had done this. A sense of dread pooled deep into his stomach, his vision blurring for but a moment. He never pinned himself as a closet pervert, especially not one desperate enough to steal his roommate’s panties. Sure, he had his fair share of fetishes and kinks – he would never turn down the use of a blindfold or a gag with his partners – but as his gaze shifted away from his face and trailed towards the lump in his pocket, the shame he felt with himself was replaced with a rush of excitement. He salivated out of eagerness to inspect his stolen treasure more closely. 

Wooyoung slowly, cautiously removed a hand from the edge of the sink, hesitantly reaching towards his pocket. He couldn’t help but feel that he was being watched by invisible eyes, shame and guilt chewing at the back of his mind, but the promise of satisfied curiosity spoke louder, silencing them rather quickly. His fingers brushed over the fabric of his sweatpants, tracing along the outline of her panties. They had felt soft in his hand when he had snatched them off of the floor. He inhaled a shaken breath through his nose, lithe fingers reaching into his pocket, and pulled out the bundle of light pink and white fabric on his exhale, steeling his nerves. Shame retrieved the upper hand, and the gravity of what he had done finally sank in, sucking the air out of his body and making him wish he hadn’t exhaled when he had. His eyes darted back to his reflection only briefly, searching for confirmation with himself that he had really stolen a pair of her panties, ensuring that this wasn’t some strangely perverted dream of his gone rogue. Seeing the mixed gleam of excitement and fear in his eyes, the rise and fall of his chest with every quick breath he took, and the flush in his cheeks solidified that this was, in fact, happening in real-time. And with that, Wooyoung took a hesitant breath in and caved into his desires. 

He fiddled with the fabric in his hands for a minute, moulding them into the shape they would take if they were on her body and holding them in front of his chest, looking back at them in the mirror. They were so cute, appearing innocent from the front, with a sweet surprise in the back. He would make her model them for him if he could. Wooyoung swallowed the lump which grew in his throat, peering down into them to see the remnants of a white stain on the pink fabric. His mouth went dry at that moment, heart beating against his ribcage with such aggression he was terrified it might leap out of his throat and fall into the sink basin in front of him. Wooyoung adjusted the placement of his fingers, turning the garment inside out, and brought the fabric closer to his nose, giving the stain a cautious sniff. 

Wooyoung needed to catch his weight against the sink when his knees buckled beneath him, stifling a groan as he dug his nose deeper into the fabric and huffed in a large breath, his eyes fluttering shut. She smelled sweet and clean – exactly the way he had expected, exactly the way he had dreamed. He couldn’t count how many times he had thought about how she might smell. Every shower left a trail of rose and vanilla behind, with perfume scents to match. He could only imagine that she would smell as sweet as those, and the confirmation of his hypothesis left him writhing. He couldn’t count how many times he fantasized about her sitting her sweet, delicate pussy over his face, nose buried against her clit, his tongue lapping ferociously against her slit in a frugal quest to get her off. He wanted so badly to taste her, to savour the sweetness of her orgasm on his tongue, to feel her legs quivering against his cheeks, to hear the same breathy moans he heard through the walls every so often. 

Wooyoung would be lying through clenched teeth if he said he had never once thought about wanting to fuck her. The number of fantasies he had about her was immeasurable, envisioning his hand on her throat, his favourite black silk blindfold covering her eyes and tied over into a pretty bow – a perfect present to him after having been so patient for so long. Every time she was in the kitchen, clothes in nothing more than a pair of skimpy shorts and an oversized t-shirt, he yearned to bend her over the countertop, giving her ass a smack. He wanted to press his arousal against the perfect curse of her ass, rutting against her to get off, whispering sweet words of sin into her ear the entire time, teasing her for daring to dress that way in front of him – did she not think of him as a man, assuming he wouldn’t be turned on by her like this? 

“Wooyoung~?”

Wooyoung’s blood ran cold when he heard her calling his name, eyes snapping open and bringing him back to reality. He tore the panties away from his nose, taking a shaky step back from the sink. 

“Shit!” He cursed under his breath, stuffing the panties back into his pocket and, thinking on his feet, reaching over to flush the toilet. He ran the tap soon after, praying that she wouldn’t think he had spent an abnormal amount of time in the bathroom. He hoped that he hadn’t spent an obscene amount of time away. He quickly washed his hands under cold water, a shiver running up his spine, peeking up at his reflection. His cheeks were still flushed bright red, eyes still glazed over with hints of desire, and his mind still whirring with sinful ideas. Wooyoung turned off the tap, cleared his throat, and, upon looking down at the bulge straining against the inseam of his sweatpants, frowned and picked up the hand towel beside the sink, unravelling it to let it hang from his hands while he dried them in a desperate attempt to hide his arousal before unlocking the door. He swung it open with one hand, towel in the other, and peeked around the doorframe to search for her. 

“Yeah?” He called after her, watching for movement from either end of the corridor. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw her frame peer through the laundry room door, heart skipping a beat when her pretty, innocent eyes stared at him from down the hall. 

“Have you seen a rogue pair of panties anywhere?” She asked, brows furrowed in mild confusion, a faint pout on her lips. Wooyoung couldn’t help but feel slightly aghast that she was able to ask the question so bluntly. “They’re my favourite pair, pink and white.” 

Wooyoung’s heart stopped when he heard those words, his mouth drying and a chill running down his spine, causing his cock to spring against his pants. 

Her favourite pair. 

That meant that she wore them a lot. That meant they had seen a lot of partners. They had seen a lot of her. And they were in Wooyoung’s pocket at that very second. A sly smirk started to form on his lips before he had a chance to suppress it, imagining as she stood in front of a mirror, running her fingertips along the outer seam, tracing the scallop lace while admiring the sweet curve of her ass in her favourite panties, the sight of the peek-a-boo cutout making her smile and earning a playful slap on the ass, coupled with a giggle. 

He needed to answer her. He needed to say something, anything. Anything that suggested he hadn’t seen them. Anything that told her he didn’t have them, that they weren’t in his pocket, that he hadn’t buried his nose in them mere seconds ago, that he hadn't imagined her sitting on his face wearing them—-. 

“U-uh,” His voice cracked as he started his sentence, causing his cheeks to flush with embarrassment. Wooyoung cleared his throat and tried again, praying she’d think he had just been caught off guard by the question. “I haven’t seen them, no.” 

“That’s so weird…,” she replied musingly, her gaze trailing to the floor as she thought aloud. “I could’ve sworn I tossed them in the basket to wash… But I guess I didn’t. Oh well, they’ll turn up eventually!” 

With a cute, nonchalant giggle, she returned to her work in the laundry room, closing the door behind her most of the way. Wooyoung released a sigh of relief when she disappeared from view, the tension in his shoulders melting away and the pace of his heartbeat calming. He chuckled under his breath, thinking himself sly, and hung the hand towel back onto the rack, staring at it for a moment. 

What would she have thought if she had caught him in possession of her panties? Wooyoung could only imagine the shade of red she might turn, embarrassment flooding her cheeks, bottom lip quivering as she reached out her hand, silently asking for them to be returned to her. He might dangle them in front of her face, teasingly pulling them out of reach every time she lunged for them. Wooyoung found pleasure in seeing her feeling so humiliated in this scene. Of course, she could yell at him instead, calling him perverted, disgusted with him for even attempting anything with her garment, which he enjoyed just as much, if not more. He found himself thrilled at the idea of getting caught, prompting a new thought in his mind.

What if she had done this on purpose?

Wooyoung quickly dismissed the possibility with a shake of his head, reminding himself that she wouldn't do that -- there was no way. She didn't seem the type. Wooyoung slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants, fingers toying with the soft cotton of her panties. He smirked, feeling an excited flutter in his chest, burning with anticipation at resuming his pleasure. He turned out the bathroom light and ducked into his bedroom across the hall, making sure to lock the door behind him. He gave the knob one small tug to make sure it had latched securely. There was no way in hell he would risk getting caught, even if the thought of it excited him a little bit more than it likely should have. He didn't want to be interrupted. 

It didn't take long for Wooyoung to situate himself on his bed, shifting his weight against the mattress to get comfortable. His fingers felt cold as he pulled the panties back out from his pocket, although the tips of his ears burned. Her scent still lingered in his nose and danced around on his tongue, giving him the illusion of a taste he longed for. He eagerly brought her panties back up to his face without a second thought, shamelessly taking a deep inhale into the fabric, a guttural groan escaping his lips at the suffocating sweetness laced into the garment. His hips moved on their own, grinding up into nothing, desperate for any kind of friction. Wooyoung cursed under his breath, never removing the garment from his nose as he reached a hand down to palm at his cock through his pants. The contact was desperately needed, and a whine accompanied the first full stroke of Wooyoung’s fingers around the outline of his cock. He stayed like that for a while, relishing in her scent, gasping and moaning at the constant contact of his fingers, wishing they were hers instead. How beautiful would she look above him?

Wooyoung's mind lingered on that statement, solely focused on having her on top, imagining how she would look, lithe fingers wrapped around his cock, lips parting as she leaned forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss. Another moan tumbled from his lips, followed by a breathy curse. Suddenly, he felt jealous of every other person she had ever been with, everyone who had been touched by her, loved by her. He breathed in another deep inhale through his nose, her scent only fuelling his imagination. He paused for a second, an idea crossing his mind. He fought with himself for a brief moment, hesitating, contemplating if he was really about to do what he wanted to do. It was too late now, he told himself. They were in his possession, in the safety of his bedroom, door locked, roommate preoccupied. No one was here to witness it. He might as well do whatever he liked with them, and so Wooyoung gingerly poked his tongue from between his lips, slowly running it over the stain in the fabric. A shiver coursed through his body, his cock straining against the seam of his pants, prompting him to resume stroking. Fuck, she tasted good. He yearned to taste her fully at that moment, wishing that she was sat on his face, his nose pressed against her clit, tongue lapping up every bit of arousal he could catch. Wooyoung licked at the panties with more momentum, pulling them taught against his fingers to even out the surface area, imagining her above him, sweet moans tumbling from her lips as she rode his face. If only she would give him a chance, he would savour her like she was his final meal. Wooyoung's cheeks burned red as the pace of his hand quickened, his breath turning into gasps as he felt his release coming closer. It was too soon, he thought, panicking. He couldn't cum yet; it was too soon, and he hadn't had enough time. He needed to savour this as much as he could. 

Wooyoung yanked his hand away, gasping at the sudden lack of friction, hips suspended in the air, his stomach tight, suppressing the urge to release. He pulled her panties away from his face, eyes shut tight and brows furrowed, trying desperately to think of anything else. He didn't know when the next time he could get away with this would be. He needed to take his time, he couldn't cum yet. Wooyoung's head felt light when he opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing in the vein on his neck, blood gushing rapidly through his system, likely sent to fuel the dark blush on his cheeks or the raging erection in his pants. Wooyoung’s gaze traced shapes in the ceiling tiles, trying to distract himself just enough that he wouldn’t cum in his boxers. He gasped for air, his lungs on fire, a bead of sweat trickling off of his forehead and landing on the bed sheets. If he was this turned on by the image of her, fuck, he couldn’t imagine how turned on he might be if he were actually with her. Wooyoung slowly lowered his hips back to the bed, feeling safe enough to take a deep breath and swallow. 

He couldn't believe that he had pushed aside his desire for so long, and he was in even further disbelief that it was a pair of her panties that made him tumble over the edge and lose his composure like that, although he couldn't really blame himself after everything that had happened up to that point. Wooyoung breathed out a long sigh, his gaze turning to the pair of saliva-soaked panties he held in his hand, a smirk growing on his lips at the satisfaction he felt bubbling into his chest. He was enjoying this far too much. Surely, it wasn't normal for him to be turned on this much by a pair of already-soiled panties, but he couldn't deny how much pleasure he was getting from his active imagination. Wooyoung shifted a bit on the bed, hissing as the head of his cock brushed against the fabric of his boxers, which he was sure were likely just as wet as the panties he held. 

"Oh, fuck, fine," he chided to himself, having hoped to have a bit more recuperating time, but it was clear as day that his body had other desires. Wooyoung shimmied his pants and boxers down to his knees, cock springing from the fabric, weeping precum onto his stomach. He was about to take it into his hand, when another, better idea crossed his mind. Wooyoung's hands fumbled hurriedly with the panties, manipulating them so that the soaked inner fabric stretched along the head of his cock. They were already soaked, so making an even bigger mess of them wasn't a problem with which he was concerned at that moment. Once the panties were wrapped around his cock, Wooyoung slowly started to stroke his hand, prompting a shaky moan. He was so sensitive from his edge, he could have cum right then and there.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” The words left his mouth in a strained whine as he rutted up into the fabric of her panties, imagining her sinking down onto his cock. If only she were truly on top of him, Wooyoung wouldn’t hesitate to knead his fingers into her thighs, guiding her pace as she bounced up and down on his cock. He would relish in the feeling of her cunt enveloping him, and he would never want the moment to end. He craved to know how she would feel, but the panties would have to do for the time being. At least until he found the courage to admit what he had known for a long time -- he found her intoxicating and desired her with a passion he had never had for anyone else. Another groan escaped him as he tightened his fist, the greater intensity of wet pressed fabric against skin causing his pace to falter a bit. 

"Such a naughty girl, teasing me like that," A breathless laugh accompanied his words as he slowed his pace, keeping the pressure to mimic the tightness of her cunt. If she had been there, he wouldn't have hesitated to slap her ass, ordering her to pick up her pace again, thrusting up into her to coax out a moan and emphasize his command. "C'mon, pick up the pace again, sweetheart. Let me cum in that pretty pussy of yours." 

Wooyoung resumed his previous pace, stroking his cock hard and fast, whining every time his fingers brushed the tip. 

“You’ve wanted this dick since I moved in, haven’t you?” He growled sultry words into thin air, directing them at his imagined version of her with a smirk on his lips. He could delve into his fantasy just a bit more, he thought. “You craved having me pound into that pretty cunt of yours, huh?” 

Wooyoung adjusted his fingers, focusing his attention on the head of his cock, whining as he reached his high. He was getting closer, and even though the voice in his head kept shouting at him to slow down, to wait, to savour, to stop and rest, to deny himself what he knew he wanted, he couldn't seem to listen. He was too close, too close; he couldn't back away now. Wooyoung's hips bucked upwards to meet his thrusts, growling as he felt the familiar tightness in his abdomen, his eyes scrunching shut. He saw her above him; lips parted, hair in disarray, a dark blush coating her cheeks, breasts bouncing as she rode him to release. It only took two more pumps of his hand, two more imaginary thrusts into her, for him to release his pent-up energy, free fingers gripping at the bedsheets while the other continued to stroke himself through his orgasm. Hot, sticky ropes of cum shot from his cock and into the fabric of her panties, squirting through the fibres and falling onto his stomach. Wooyoung's voice caught in his throat when he tried to whimper, the sensitivity becoming too much for him. He stopped the motion of his hand, letting his cock twitch through the remaining spurts of cum it had left to give. 

Wooyoung couldn't believe how hard he came. He gasped for air, heart beating so hard in his chest that he feared he might go into cardiac arrest, his vision going blurry. A tired smile crossed his lips as he stared up at the ceiling, feeling very satisfied with himself. He finally removed his hand from his cock, fingers sticky with his cum. He had made a right mess of himself and of the panties as well. Wooyoung sighed as he realized he would need to clean them. He wished he could keep them; it would have been fun to reuse them some other time, but he feared it would be too suspicious if they had gone completely missing from her laundry. He decided to do them when he next tackled his laundry and would return them to her, claiming he had found them wedged between the wall and the washing machine and washed them for her. He could practically see the cute blush that would creep onto her face from embarrassment, and it made him chuckle. 

Wooyoung groaned as he pulled himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling the completely soiled panties off of him and tossing them into his laundry bin across the room. He evaluated the mess he had made on himself, noting all of the strands of cum that had stuck to his stomach, his happy trail, and still pooled down his cock. He was in desperate need of a shower. Wooyoung pulled up his sweatpants and sucked in a breath. He hoped to god she wasn’t going to be waiting anywhere near his door. He didn’t want to have to say anything to her, and truth be told, he wasn’t confident that his voice wouldn’t crack after desperately trying to hold in his whines earlier. Wooyoung hesitantly unlocked the door, listening acutely for any sounds of movement on the other side before opening it. He peered out into the hall, looking both ways for her. Luckily, she was nowhere to be found; the only sound coming from the washing machine down the hall, the door to the laundry room left slightly ajar. Wooyoung sighed a breath of relief, walked out of his bedroom, shutting the door behind him, and ran to the bathroom to take his much-needed shower. 

What he didn't realize at the time was that he had an active listener in the room next door. She had been listening intently to his ritual, head pressed against her bedroom wall to try and hear every moan and gasp she could, fingers playing with her dripping pussy. Truthfully, she had seen the way he looked at her. She knew that he found her attractive, but she was growing tired of waiting for him to make the first move, so she took it upon herself to give him a little bit more motivation. She knew he wouldn't be able to resist her panties if she had left them out, and she was thrilled to know she had been right. 

She couldn't resist disappearing into her bedroom the second she heard the first of his moans, excitedly hopping onto her bed and quickly getting to work rubbing slow circles over her clit. Every gasp, moan, groan, and growl came through the thin walls which separated them, and she had to bite her lip to keep herself from joining in, silencing herself so as not to give herself away. However, when she heard him mention her name, she couldn't help the whine that escaped her lips, her fingers picking up their pace. Before she knew it, she couldn't hold on any longer, cumming on her fingers and soaking her panties through. Once she had come down from her high, she had looked down to evaluate the wet spot she had created on her bedsheets, smirking mischievously.

She would need to do more laundry.