#I think I’m cursed actually. that would explain many things

[aria-greenhoodie]

You asked and ye shall receive. Aria,why do you use birds to symbolize Abigale's inner turmoil?. Besides the obvious surname thing. Also you apparently have more thoughts on the Muse art? 👀,explain?.

So obviously yeah, “Blackwing” is such a bird surname. BUT THATS ONLY THE SURFACE!

Birds are so often used as symbols of freedom, creatures untethered by laws of the land due to their ability to fly. In the same way, I imagine Abigale as being similar; free, not having to abide by the laws of her land as much as others did. In order to explain I think I have to dive into my version of Abigale’s backstory a bit…

(Warning: I’m going off what I know about 1800-1900s American Society. I’m no historian, but I’ve tried to keep things as believable as possible. I will say I’m pretty confident in that believability thanks to my feminist history class I been taking this semester.)

Born in the early 1880s, the Blackwing family was wealthy, yet fairly unknown. Calling it a “family” before Abigale’s birth would be a stretch in many’s opinion, being made up of just Mr. Atticus Blackwing and Mrs. Chastity Blackwing. Chastity tragically passed in childbirth, leaving Atticus to raise Abigale all on his own. He became fiercely protective and supportive of the young Abigale, a tiny spitting image of his late wife.

Abigale was always an insatiably curious child. At first, Atticus tried to teach her how to be a lady, to be domestic, to cook and clean and dote on her future husband, but quickly realized he was woefully unequipped for teaching a subject he knew nothing about. What’s more: Abigale HATED her womanly lessons. Instead, Atticus decided to let her learn something she actually was interested in; inventing.

Abigale loved to tinker, to create. The mechanical was a fascination of hers from the moment she saw it. Atticus as an architect had some mechanical knowledge, but not to the level Abigale’s insatiable desire to learn needed. But what engineering school would allow a woman in? At this point in the late 1800s, women were nearly always snubbed in inventing spaces, most universities not even offering engineering degrees for female students.

And so, Abigale’s “twin brother” Abraham Blackwing was created. A pseudonym for Abigale, under which she would don Atticus’s old clothes from his boyhood and attend a prestigious engineering school. Her father even falsified documents like Abraham’s birth certificate to make him appear like a legitimate person. It was risky, as crossdressing was a punishable offense by law back then, but Abigale was willing to take that risk if it meant she could learn.

Between her rich father supporting her every decision and passion, and her alter-ego, Abraham, to fall back on, Abigale had a lot of freedom growing up. When her father died of an illness just before she graduated, he left “Abraham” everything, which of course meant that Abigale could “live with her brother” and hold a bank account under his name. She was truly given every opportunity for freedom, more than any woman of her time.

And then, Bill Cipher enters her life.

She’s plagued by the triangular demon ip every night in her dreams, but she refuses to succumb to the shape’s demands. As tempting as building a machine like an inter-dimensional portal was, she knew better than to trust a man who wouldn’t explain his motives. When Abigale asked why Bill wanted this portal built, he couldn’t give her a straight answer, and that was enough proof to know he was no good.

After weeks of restless nights and aggravation, Abigale finds a peculiar ad in the paper, written by a certain Thurburt Mudget Waxstaff III…

On some level, she has to thank Bill for entering her life as much as she has to curse him for it. If he had never decided to torment her specifically, she never would have met the rest of the Anti-Cipher Society. Abigale THRIVED in the society, delighted in inventing new ways to ward off Cipher, collaborating with her dear Jessamine to create specialized weaponry, learning self defense from Horace, gossiping with O’Pimm, spending night after night explaining the mechanics of how her inventions worked to Thurburt so he could whip up a stellar sales pitch… she had never felt more alive! She was flying high, much like a bird on the wind.

And then the conference happened.

Thurburt was institutionalized, right then and there. Abigale watched the asylum workers from backstage with mounting horror. Worst case scenario for Thurburt, he’d be locked in a cell or sent out west at some work camp, but for Abigale? If the asylum workers got ahold of her, she knew they’d think her hysterical. Treatments for “insane” men were often much kinder than treatments for women in those times. Deeming Thurburt insane would send him to a locked cell, but he would at least be allowed to remain himself. Abigale had heard of women like her, eccentric unmarried women, “frivolous women” as they were often called, being scooped up by doctors and spat back onto the street with their entire personalities wiped. A hammer and a well placed nail up the inside of one’s nose could do heinous things. Abigale would sooner die then let them take what made her HER away.

So she ran. She tried to take Jessamine with her, but she refused to leave Thurburt. For six days Abigale hid in the society’s underground bunker, terrified of venturing outside, not knowing what happened to her companions besides Thurburt. She only ventured out on the seventh day because she had run out of food.

She couldn’t go back to her house, when she tried to scope it out, she saw the asylum workers already knocking at her door. She couldn’t stay in the bunker, it was only a matter of time before it was found. She was desperate for a way out, to keep herself free.

And here comes Mr. Northwest.

See, the thing about birds is that while they make excellent symbols of freedom, they also make excellent symbols of being trapped. Birds can be put into cages, forced to sing or speak for meager treats, and lets not forget that at that time most birdcages were anything but spacious and comfortable. Most captive birds of the time were expected to die quickly, only purchased in order to sing prettily for a short while before their tiny little hearts stopped beating. Birds are as much a symbol of freedom as they are of captivity, of being trapped, of the LOSS of freedom.

Abigale never wanted to be a wife, but what choice did she have? Mr. Northwest offered her a way out if she married him. Her choice was thus: escape the state with Mr. Northwest as her husband, or stay in town and eventually be found and promptly lobotomized, erased of any trace of her real personality.

She chose the former.

Better to live in a gilded cage, twittering for scraps, then to be gutted and stuffed on som taxidermist’s wall…

Right?

As for the muse stuff most of my trout process I already told you in the notes of the original piece lol

[exopelagic]

i said i wouldn’t do it this time but it’s 3am and mods asleep. boy

[monzabee]

diet pepsi - ln4 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Lando have a rather interesting way of resolving an argument. 

Pairing: lando norris x fwb!reader 

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: kinda cute ass fighting so fluff??, sex in a car, fingering, penetration, manhandling, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it!!), cursing, minords dni!! 

Request: “okay but what about good old car sex with lando pleaseeee” 

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, who knew addison rae had the power to make a song that made me write this whole thing under 3 hours?? i certainly did not. secondly, i thought it would be nice to take a little break from the charles-carlos drama, and before i finish the third and final part to that little mini-series, i thought you guys would enjoy a little treat in the meantime! i have to admit writing for lando again was an interesting experience for me, but who knows, maybe i'll do it more often (i have one request that i'm obsessed with so that’s definitely coming your way as well!) also, i have an oscar fic in the works as well, so maybe the sudden change in mclaren also started to affect me lol. a quick psa, i know many people asked me in my last fic, but i do NOT have a taglist and i won’t be making one any time soon either! anywaaays, i hope you guys enjoy this fic, and feedback is welcome as always! thank you to the anon for their request, and good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“I can’t believe you’re drinking that in my car.” Lando complains, shooting you a sideway glare as you sip your choice of beverage contently.  

You tilt the cup slightly in his direction, grinning. “Relax, it’s not like it’s going to explode, nor it is your car.” 

“It might as well,” Lando mutters, eyes back on the road. “Knowing your luck, the second I hit a bump, that thing will be all over the place and I’ll have to explain what happened to Zak. Do you even know how much it costs to clean these seats?” 

You laugh, swirling the drink in the cup. “You’re being dramatic, it’s not like you are the one to detail the cars you use. It’s fine, I’ve got this under control.” 

“Famous last words,” Lando grumbles. His grip tightens on the steering wheel as if he’s preparing for impact. 

You glance at him, amused. “Are you always this paranoid about your car, or is it just me?” 

“It’s you. Definitely you.” He shoots you another look, this one laced with mock suspicion. “You have a history, you know.” 

“Oh, puh-lease,” you drawl, rolling your eyes as you turn your upper body to face him. “Tell me one time I actually made a mess in your car, and I’ll throw away this can right now.” 

Lando doesn't hesitate as he answers quickly. “Monaco. Last year. You remember that smoothie incident, right?” 

You blink a couple of times, taken aback. “That doesn’t count! That was your fault for speeding around the corner like a maniac. How was I supposed to hold on to it?” 

He smirks, clearly enjoying the memory. “Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh? You were the one who insisted on bringing a smoothie into my car five minutes before a race.” 

“You didn’t even have to brake so hard,” you mutter, crossing your arms defensively. “I had it under control until you decided to turn it into a F1 race.” 

Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “Doesn't matter. I still won, throw it away now.” 

“That doesn’t count, it was clearly your fault!” You complain, holding the can protectively. “There’s no way I’m tossing this because of your bad driving.” 

Lando laughs, shaking his head. “Bad driving? I think I’d take that up with the people who hired me to race professionally.” 

“Professionally doesn’t mean you’re not reckless,” you quip, a playful glint in your eyes. “Especially when there’s a smoothie involved.”  

“Fine,” he contends, shrugging, “how about that time I made you come too hard, and you leaked onto the seats?”  

This manages to shut you down for a moment, with eyes nearly bulging out of your head, you gasp at Lando’s sudden choice of words. “Lando!” You exclaim, reaching over the console to hit him on the arm gently, “That’s vulgar!” 

Silently chuckling at your reaction, he reaches over as he places a hand on your upper thigh, his hand tightening as you hold his wrist in warning. “It’s the truth,” he reminds you with a smirk, “don’t go shy on me, now, you were the one to get the seats all messed up because of how wet you were.” If you weren’t blushing before, your face most definitely resembles a tomato now as he continues his stream of consciousness, “Not that I’m complaining, though, I’m pretty sure I came in my pants when I made you cum just from my fingers.”  

 “You– you did?” The question flies from your mouth before you can stop yourself.  

The smile that overtakes the smirk on Lando’s face is almost sweet, and he coos at the innocence of your question as he squeezes your thigh again. “Oh baby,” he coos, “it was the hottest thing ever.”  

Your thighs attempt to trap his hand as you inadvertently press them tighter together, your nose scrunching up in confusion. “But it was messy.”  

“That was the best part,” Lando confirms, his thumb caressing your skin. “I loved getting to clean you up afterwards, didn’t I? Almost as much as you loved it.” 

“Sure.” You mumble, shrugging as you do your best to ignore his burning stare. You’d be worried about the fact that he was supposed to be driving if it was someone else, but considering he’s a F1 driver, you don’t comment on Lando’s lack of his surroundings as he pushes your thighs apart. “What are you doing?” You ask, confused as he moves his fingers further up your skirt.  

“You just focus on finishing that drink, okay?” He mumbles as his fingers pull your underwear to the side. “I’m suddenly in the mood for something sweet myself.”  

“Lando, I don’t think we should do th–hat.” Your voice waivers towards the end as his fingertips press on your clit, drawing lax circles on the bundle of nerves. “Lando,” you try to warn him, but your voice comes out as a high-pitched whimper.  

He shushes you gently as his fingers spread your wetness around your skin, causing you to bite down on your lip to silence yourself. Lando lets his dissent known by clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, mumbling, “Don’t silence yourself, let me hear you, baby.” And when you give him what he wants and let out a loud moan as your hips involuntarily buck against his hand. Grinding the palm of his hand against your puffy clit, Lando uses your wetness to slowly push two of his fingers into you, drawing out another moan as you lean your head against the headrest. “My God, baby, look at you. You’re already making a mess on the seats.”  

“N-no,” you manage to whine, shaking your head as you give him a pleading but stubborn look, “I’m not making a mess.”  

“No?” He asks, mocking the pout that has found its way onto your lips. “Then who is so wet against my hand that it’s dripping, huh?” You're not sure if it’s his words or the way his fingers keep moving in and out of your cunt, but in either case, the overwhelming need of just something more causes you to attempt to put the can in your hand down, when Lando tuts again in warning, “You don’t get to put your drink down until you first come on my fingers.” 

After his words set in, you finally come to your senses, suddenly opening your eyes as you give him a shocked look. “Wha–what?” You ask, “What if I spill?” 

He shrugs, an innocent smile on his lips as he throws you a glance, “I guess you’ll just have to be careful and not spill it.” The smile on his lips grows as you let out a frustrated sound, and he responds by moving his fingers in a come-hither motion to git the spot, which causes your body to arch into his touch. “Are you going to give me what I want?” He asks, his concentration still on the road as he tries to find a secluded spot to park the car.  

“Uh-huh,” you mutter, voice shaky as you focus on not dropping the can in your hand, “I will, Lando, just keep doing that.”  

“Doing what?” He asks in a faux-innocent tone, as he goes back to simply continuing the pistoning movement of his fingers. “Like this?” He asks, with a shit eating grin on his face as you whine. “Or, like this?” He asks again, but this time, he repeats the movement of his fingers previously as he hits your g-spot again.  

You can’t control the scream that gets released from the back of your throat as your body shakes violently. “That,” you breathe out, your free hand holding onto the seatbelt so tight that you can feel it starting to cramp your hand a little bit, “don’t you dare stop doing that.” 

Lando lets out a low chuckle, clearly satisfied with your desperate plea. His fingers continue their relentless pace, teasing and coaxing you closer to the edge. “Oh, I won’t stop,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet commanding. “Not until you give me what I want.” 

Your entire body feels like it's on fire, the combination of his skilled fingers and the impossible task of not spilling your drink has you teetering on the edge. The car feels smaller, the world outside irrelevant, as Lando’s attention is focused solely on you. Being so consumed by the way Lando’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, you don’t even know that the car you are in at the moment has been abandoned in the side of a deserted road. You grip the can tighter, your hand trembling as the tension builds in your core. “Lando,” you gasp, a hint of desperation seeping into your voice. “I— I can't—” 

He smirks, enjoying your struggle. “You can,” he counters smoothly, leaning slightly closer while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “You can do it, just let it go, baby.” His thumb presses harder on your clit, drawing another loud moan from your lips. 

“Lando, please,” you beg, your voice almost cracking under the weight of your impending release. “I’m going to—” 

“Good,” he cuts you off, his smirk widening. “Let go for me, baby. And don't you dare spill that drink." 

His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 

His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 

You hear Lando’s satisfied chuckle as he eases his fingers out of you, giving your thigh one last affectionate squeeze. “Good girl,” he murmurs, glancing over at you with a proud smile. “Look at how good you look.” He shamelessly holds his fingers in front of your face, then without missing a beat, he brings his fingers into his mouth. The way he moans is nothing short of sinful, and you watch him with your lips parted as he mumbles around his fingers, “I think you spilled it a little bit.” 

“E-Excuse me?” You stutter, looking at Lando with the horrified look on your face. “No, I didn’t!” 

Lando raises an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering as he glances down at the mess on the seat. “Oh, but you did,” he teases, licking his lips after savoring the taste of you on his fingers. His eyes gleam with amusement as he points at the spot between your legs. “Not the drink, though… you.” 

Your face burns with a mix of embarrassment and desire, your breath still uneven as you try to process what just happened. “That’s not what I—” you stammer, crossing your arms over your chest, but Lando just laughs softly. 

“Relax, love. It’s nothing a little cleaning can’t fix.” He leans back in his seat, eyes never leaving you, his hand returning to the steering wheel like what just happened was the most normal thing in the world. “Besides, I’d much rather clean you up later.” 

You feel the heat spread through your body again, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel a wave of arousal wash over you. Lando’s confidence, the way he handles you with such ease, is almost intoxicating. But as much as you’re enjoying the moment, a small part of you knows this is ridiculous. 

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, trying to regain some composure, though your flushed cheeks give you away. 

Lando just grins, completely unbothered. “You love it,” he says casually, shooting you another one of those playful sideway glances that makes your heart race. “Admit it. You like when I make you lose control.” 

You bite your lip, fighting the urge to throw a retort his way. But you can’t deny it, not after the way your body reacted to his touch. “You’re lucky you’re good at this,” you finally concede, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Lando’s smile softens, just for a moment. “Good at a lot of things,” he says, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. Then he pulls the car to a stop, turning off the engine before leaning toward you, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “And I’m just getting started.” 

[leyiorr]

he’s my little ponyboy .ᐟ

mdni.

“this isn’t fair.”

you turn around, spinning on your heel to look back at your boyfriend. there’s a gorgeous pout on his face while he pulls at the cuffs that bind him to the chair, long legs taking up copious amounts of space as he manspreads lazily.

satoru’s face is as handsome as ever, even with his bright eyes covered by a dark blindfold that you’d brought from the store earlier that day.

“this is so unfair and mean,” he continues, moreso to himself than you.

you hum, turning back to the mirror again to run the straightener over the last section of your hair. you hear the jangle of the metal cuffs again, stifling a laugh when you hear him curse under his breath.

“yeah? how so?”

he scoffs loudly; you can practically hear the sarcastic eyeroll. you hike your opaque tights up your legs - though opaque is a stretch, they’re practically transparent - smiling to yourself as they hug your figure.

“you have me tied to a chair with a blindfold over my eyes!” he complains dramatically, clicking his tongue.

you snicker. of course, you do have good reason for tying him up. it’s one of your best friend’s birthday parties, and to you, college parties were everything. dolling yourself up was always so much fun, especially when you knew it’d drive satoru mad.

the only issue was, when you were dolled up, satoru was bricked up. last time you tried to leave for a party you were late. not fashionably late, a whole three hours late, because satoru was too consumed with drilling his dick into you to notice the time.

rightfully, you’d been mad, but it didn’t even last a day - one look at his face and you’d caved.

this time however, things would not be the same. not if you had anything to say about it. with him tied up, he couldn’t let his hands wander. with his eyes covered, he couldn’t ogle you. see? problem fixed!

he whines, bottom lip jutting out as he sulks. “i just wanna look... i won’t even touch!”

“you know that’s a lie. i just wanna get changed in peace, baby,” you explain, and he hears you rummage through the wardrobe, “i actually want to be present for this party.”

he mutters something unintelligible but settles down, clearly acknowledging the fact that it was his fault that you were late the last time.

“...and i’m butt naked right now, i don’t think you could keep your hands to yourself.”

you watch him as the words leave your lips, revelling in the sharp inhale they cause. he shifts uncomfortably, licking his lips. he pulls at the cuffs in a pathetic attempt to release himself, “really?”

“kidding!” you say sweetly, close to his ear so you have a full veiw of the shudder that runs up his spine in response.

“i hate you,” he mutters, biting his lip at the mere image of your body. there’s a growing tent in his pants.

you laugh, pulling on a black, strapless minidress before twirling in the mirror happily. it grazes your midthigh and shows off the skin of your collarbones. there's a single silver necklace clasped around your neck - a tiny diamond heart that was one of satoru’s many gifts.

“oh, i look good,” you say proudly, and you catch your boyfriend groan.

“let me see,” he half pleads from the other side of the room.

you shake your head even though he can’t see it as you sit on the bed, slipping on your heels.

“be patient, baby, i’m almost done.”

his knee bounces impatiently, suddenly frustrated by his lack of senses. satoru can feel his hands getting clammy - he hopes the blindfold miraculously disintegrates so he can at least look at you.

the minutes pass by and his blood turns to molten lava, dick straining against his sweats. it suddenly feels so much hotter in the room than it did before.

“a or b, handsome?” you call from somewhere, and satoru sighs breathily.

how could you ask him to pick something he couldn’t even see?

“b,” he says eventually.

“wrong, the answer was c!” you sing, putting a pair of stud diamonds into your ears and leaving him to sulk.

at least he thinks, before he’s feeling your lips against his. he leans forward, chasing the sensation before you away leaving him slightly disorientated.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” you coo - it goes straight to his dick, “i’m almosttt done.”

satoru groans, irritation and need filling his lungs like water. were you even almost done? what he would give to pry off these cuffs and blindfold.

“...i wanna see you, beautiful.”

he can feel his ears turning pink.

“...please.”

the laugh that you let out makes him want to die and so undeniabley horny that it fucks with his brain.

“not yet.”

his head follows the sound of you walking around the room, moving back to the mirror, where you apply your finishing touch; lipgloss.

the day you’d found the perfect lip combo you jumped for joy. now, you wear it everywhere.

your boyfriend hears you smack your lips together twice, before sensing you approach him. you strategically place yourself between his legs as you untie the blindfold.

and as you do, satoru thanks every god in existence that he gets to exist in the same timeline as you.

because when his vision is finally cleared, his breath catches in his throat.

your hair is expertly done, not a hair out of place as it grazes your midback; makeup emphasizing your natural beauty with mascara lengthening your pretty lashes. and don’t even get him started on the dress. he should start charging people for looking at you.

“pretty?” you ask, but you can already tell from his dazed, lovesick expression that the answer is yes.

he doesn’t answer for a moment, his eyes doing multiple appreciative runs over your figure.

“yeah,” he breathes finally, “real pretty, baby.”

satoru leans forward, nuzzling into your stomach. you smile, raking your manicured fingers through his messy white locs.

“i wanna fuck you,” he mumbles into the fabric of your dress, “bad.”

a laugh bubbles from your chest as you point at the clock, “we don’t have time, love, you know that.”

he groans, looking up at you with those cerulean irises that you were so disgustingly weak to, “just a quickie?”

“no.”

“c’mon baby, i’ll hold back!”

“you won’t.”

his head tilts to the side, veins in his neck showing as he strains against the restraints. the high of his cheekbones and ears are dusted pink; his lips are red from how much he’s being chewing on them.

“please, love.”

you don’t answer him, instead your fingers glide down the back of his neck, satisfied when the hairs raise in anticipation. you lean down to meet his mouth and he reciprocates with the sloppiest kiss he can muster from this position as your other hand cups his jaw.

the mucles in his biceps cry from the force he’s putting in while he tries to break the cuffs; the veins ripple under his skin. he’s desperate to have his hands anywhere on you.

he can taste the flavour of your lipgloss but it does nothing to deter him - instead encourages him to strain his neck further, back flush against the back of the chair as you begin to straddle him. he can feel your nails raking across his scalp; his dick twitches with interest.

you pull back far too quickly for his taste. it takes everything in your power not to drag him into bed like a bitch in head at the fucked out expression his giving you.

he watches your fingers pass over your lips, sighing to yourself as you bring them away to see smudged lipgloss.

satoru pathetically whines at the loss of contact when you get off him, throwing a heatless glare over your shoulder.

“you ruined my makeup, baby, i guess you’re gonna have to sit there and wait til i finish it again before we can go!”

oh, fuck you. literally and figuratively. he’s going to fuck you in that dress, hell, he would probably do it in front of an audience at the party. but you wouldn’t allow that... right?

[heart-eyed-love]

Girl Stuff

Summary | Eddie helps you out when you are dealing with your period.

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers, Talks of having a period, Pot brownies, Beer, Taking pain medicine, and a very small amount of cursing, like probably once. (sorry if i miss anything!)

Word Count | 1.1k

Eddie’s staring at you from his kitchen, you’re sprawled out on the couch in the oddest position, with face buried into it.

“There’s no way that’s comfortable…” He says as he enters the living room again, beer in hand as he observes you with his quirked eyebrows. You crane your neck from its buried spot.

“Actually, this is the only position I can lay in currently that doesn’t make me feel like I’m dying…”

He chuckles slightly as he plops down in the recliner, instead of his preferred spot, on the couch, next to you. “What’s wrong?”

He watches you as you stare at him before rolling your eyes and turning back towards the inner side of the couch. He furrows his eyebrows and raises his hand in confusion, but then he hears you mutter a small, “Girl stuff.”

Ohhh, that makes sense, he guessed. It would definitely explain the attitude you’ve had with him all day, hence the beer in his hand. He chuckles yet again once you reveal the reasoning of your odd position, causing you to scoff.

“I’m glad you find this funny.” You say somewhat annoyed. You know you’ve been a pain in his ass all day and you did feel slightly bad, but somehow he just kept doing something to piss you off.

You hear him stand from the creaky recliner, wanting to turn your head and tell him not to leave, in case you had pushed him too far, but the cramps in your abdomen keep you silent as you bury your face further into the couch.

Eddie, on the other hand, had headed off to the bathroom, grabbing the bottle of pain pills and heating pad, then into his room to grab the one selling factor. One things he knew you couldn’t resist, he’s about to have you wrapped around his finger, or maybe you just had him wrapped around yours.

He comes back into the living room and you can hear a pile of stuff falling onto the coffee table behind you, it doesn’t rouse you from your spot though.

Not until clears his throat once, and when you don’t turn around he does it again. You roll your eyes again before you turn to face him, and when you do you see he’s brought out some stuff for you.

You bring yourself to sit up and you raise your eyebrows at him, “It’s for your… girl stuff.” He’s smirking at you as you scowl, but when you look down at all the assortment of stuff he has brought to you, you can feel your heart melting slightly.

A heating pad, a bottle of pills, and… you furrow your eyebrows again, “What? You’re actually gonna let me wear it?” You asked skeptically. It’s Eddie’s favorite hoodie, one that you’d try to steal and wear multiple times, and he would not allow it.

He thinks it only fair he’d have at least one of his own hoodies. He didn’t have many in the first place, they’d all gone missing, and the last place he can remember seeing them is on you.

So, yes. He is keeping his favorite hoodie to himself, although you do come along trying to steal it like some fucking side quest. But, he thinks if it’ll help in any way it would be good to try.

“Yes, I’ll actually let you wear it.” He scoffs, “But, you aren’t keeping it, (Y/N). And you need to bring back my other hoodies…” He says, but he’s not fighting it too hard. He doesn’t exactly mind seeing you in them, especially when it’s one of those chilly days and you wear them to school.

“I Can’t. I wear those, Eddie.”

“Okay, well if you bring them back we can both wear them, we can share. Doesn’t sharing sound nice…” He teases, voice slightly condescending.

“Fine, whatever.” You say as you slip the sacred hoodie over your head, and you reach for the pill bottle, “Can I have some water?” You ask as you take the bottle in your hand.

“Magic word?”

You roll your eyes, “Please?”

Eddie chuckles as he walks off to the kitchen, “You know, your eyes are gonna get stuck in the back of your head if you keep rolling them at me…” He says as he opens the cabinet pulling out a cup and begins filling it with water.

“Uh-huh…” You mutter out, toning him out as you attempt to get the stubborn cap off, feeling like an idiot.

But soon he’s waking back into the living room. You’ve successfully gotten the cap off, and he's setting the water down on the coaster in front of you, he’s holding something wrapped in foil in the other. It catches your eye.

“I wasn’t going to share these with you cause you’ve been acting like a brat today…” You narrow your eyes as you look up at him, “But since, I guess you have a good enough reason, I'll let it slide…”

He sits down next to you, he’s close enough to feel his warmth, it’s actually kind of soothing. You take the pills before asking, “What is it?”

He begins unwrapping it, and once the foil it opens you get the view of a couple brownies. “Rick gave them to me, I made sure to save some for you though…” And a smile overtakes your face.

“So, you’re telling me I finally get to try some of Rick's infamous pot brownies? And you aren’t going to hog them all to yourself?” And Eddie’s scrunched his face at the claim, even though you both know it’s true.

“I don’t hog them.”

“You totally do!” You giggle out, “Last time you said you’d have some for me when I came by to hang out, but you ate them all!”

“Okay, well I saved some for you this time, be grateful.” He teased, “Okay, well I saved some for you this time, be grateful.” He teased.

“I’m very grateful…” You giggle teasingly as you say it before softening as you look at him , “but thanks though… like really…”

“It’s whatever…” He shrugs lightly, playing it off, only causing you to giggle more, and he teasingly pushes your head.

After having taken your medicine, and eating the brownies with Eddie, you both end up sprawled out on the couch, snacks wildly scattered across the coffee table. Laughing at whatever stupid movie you guys had chosen to watch.

You both are passed out on the couch, by the time Wayne arrives homes. Rolling his eyes, wondering how you both could be so clueless.



[maeblack]

„God, I love the way my name sounds, if you moan it like this, cara mia“

Paring: Theodore Nott x reader

Warnings: smut and a bit dominant Theo

also, English is not my first language and I’m doing my best, so please be patient with me and be warned :)

Word count: 2508

Summary: sometimes jealousy leads to hot shower sex and affirmations

„Theo?!“ my voice echoed from the walls like my steps. Which became even quicker as I neared myself to the boys change room. Where the hell was he? Without a knocking I swung the door open. A few curses were heard and every pair of eyes laid on me, as I passed the few still changing boys.

„Y/n, what gives us the honor to welcome you in our secret place of hottness?“ Draco purred as he leans against the wall near his locker. The black towel around his waist hung dangerously loosely. Which exposed his well trained body and didn’t left many space for imagination what’s underneath. As i didn’t respond, he spoke up again „you like what you see?“ he teased. „Unfortunately yes, but i‘m not here for you, Malfoy“ I explained sweetly.

While I snaked past him, I mocked: „sorry, I think you need to wait for the next pretty girl, who crosses your way, if you’re half naked, to suck the life out of your dick“. A few chuckles filled the moist air. „This beautiful case happens not as rare as you might think lovely y/n“ he responded as he turned around to face me. I had stopped in front of Theo’s open locker. „Sure Malfoy“ I muttered absent, as I scanned the things in front of me. The quidditch uniform hung on the open locker door. That meant he‘s not in the hospital wing. Good. So he doesn’t have to go there twice on a day when I’m done with him.

But his favorite black sweater also still hung in the locker. So he weren’t already back in his dorm. Or hers. Which was the actual reason I was here. „Where is he?“ i questioned snippy. „I don’t know who you talking about, if you have such an attitude“ Draco shrugged. I inhaled sharp. „my dearest friend Draco, it would be very nice, if you tell me where I can find Theodore“ I declared with a fake smile in my face, my voice still snippy. „Hm I don’t know, if I would be a good friend to him, if I tell you where he is, when you are that mad at him“ Draco explained while he pulled his shirt over his head. „I just want to know, if this whore is with him“ I revealed trough clenched teeth. Silence. „He‘s still in the shower“ he informed me grinning „I don’t know if he’s alone“. „Oh“ I said. My voice sounded more uncertain as intended. Draco chuckled. „Naw if you‘re scared to go in, you can still accept my offer“ he teased, while he fiddled on the towel around his waist. „No thanks“ I admitted quick „I’m already a big girl and I can handle my jealousy alone“. With this I turned on my heal and went straight into the shower room.

The moment I stepped in, the humidity increased immeasurably. The room was filled in steam fog, which enveloped Theo’s tall figure. He stood with his back to me under one of the showers in the back of the elongated room. He was alone. An indescribable burden fell from my heart. The stream of water washed around his body as I came closer. With one hand on the wall, he supported himself, while his dark brown curls hung into his closed eyes. My anger was floated away as my eyes scanned ever millimeter of his gorgeous body. No hickeys. Just his cute freckles all along his neck down to his shoulders. The butterflies in my belly did some flips as they went crazy. The muscles on his back twitching, as he lifted his head and stretched it towards the heated water. The space in between my tights already as wet as the air around us. „Do you want to keep staring at me or will you join me?“ Theo’s husky voice reached my brain. I nervously cleared my throat. He chuckled raspy, which send shivers down my spine. He would be the death of me, I already knew it. Why did I thought I would be able to yell at him while he‘s IN SHOWER? Only the thought about his body made me numb. And now I was more than able to see everything. God

A few moments must have passed since my voice was lastly heard, because now I was the one with a raspy whispering voice. „I was searching for you“. It sounded sweet. Merlin. I was pissed until I took the step inside the shower room. Since when did Theodore Nott made me that weak?

„Aha“ he made slowly, bringing me back to reality. „Then congratulations… you found me“ he purred while he let his head fell back. My body heated up even more. How could someone look that good? It was a curse and blessing together to have this beautiful sight of him. „Then what do you want from me, if it’s not joining me?“ he asked again. For a moment I was confused myself. „If you just wanted to know where I am, you could have asked somebody? You didn’t have to follow me into the shower…“ he added. „Oh yeah?“ I snipped. My voice had its force back. „Maybe your new fangirl could have told me where you are! But oh wait, I forgot, she left together with you“. With every word I talked myself back in anger again. For a few seconds the water streaming on the floor was the only thing heard. He chuckled quietly as he shook his head slightly.

Only as he turned around to face me, I noticed how close I stood. The water from his hair dropped on my face as I glanced up at him. My eyes still sparkled aggressively. But as I got lost in his deep brown hazel eyes, I felt my knees go weak again. My breath went hard. The anger still slightly cocking in my veins. But I got more and more distracted as my gaze followed the tiny watersprinkles which made their way down his face. It looked so magical.

„Is there someone jealous?“ he questioned after his eyes had searched along my whole face. His voice unfathomable, which made my heart twitch. I wasn’t sure what to say. Could I admit that I am jealous? Am I allowed to be jealous? Actually not. We weren’t together. He wasn’t mine. And I wasn’t his. God why am I even here then?

In the shower. While he‘s completely naked. And I’m fully dressed.

The second I thought about it, was the first moment I could feel the hot water streaming down at me, even though I stood like this for minutes. After this determination my eyes flew automatically down my soaked wet cloths. And with this, down his body too. His incredibly defined abs peaked out his upper body. I fought against the instinct to slid my fingertips along them. His cock already standing hard. Which made me bite my lower lip while I felt my mid already clenching.

„Y/n“ His voice brought my attention back to his lips. „Why are you here?“ he asked urgently. My voice trembled as I started to mouth an answer „I just had to make sure if you’re here. With her.“ „and then?“ he questioned darkly. I shivered. „What do you thought we would do here together?“ he continued his asking. „I -“ I started searching for the right words. „Go on little y/n“ he purred „tell me your naughty thoughts“. I swallowed hard against my dry throat. Why did he had such an effect on me? Even if it would be possible not to think about his hard cock. Which now slightly tipped against my mid as he came closer to tug my hair behind my ear. I melted under his touch and my whole body burned.

„Tell me what you thought we were doing in here“ he demanded.

I gathered all my courage as I spoke up. „After I saw how she undressed you with her looks on the pitch, I thought I would find her on her knees for you. Sucking your dick like you deserve after the good match“ I explained as I lifted my chin towards him. „Aha“ he hummed, his voice melodically. A grin drawn on his lips. „You think I deserve a naughty little whore who sucks my dick?“ he questioned. I nodded. „And why in this case you wanted to stop her?“ Theo asked taunting. „Because it’s my job“ I said, not knowing where his sudden confident came from. „Aha“ he repeated his answer from before. This time his grin grew even bigger.

„Then I won’t hold you back any longer… do what you’re here for“ Theo crooned. His left hand, which loosely hung in my hair after he tugged it behind, grabbed deeper in my strains and pushed me slightly down on my knees. My mouth milliliters away from his dick. I looked up through my lashes and locked eyes with him as I straddled his cock with my fingers. I admired the changing expression in his face as I licked his tip. He breathed in sharp as I took his hard cock in my mouth. His soft skin unter my tongue made me melt. And as his groans filled the air, my mid was dripping for him.

„Oh Merlin - y/n“ he groaned trough clenched teeth as I took him all in „you do your job fucking good“. As his muscle twitched he withdrew from my mouth and pulled me back to my stand. His hand still grabbed with full force in my hair as he brought me in front of his lips. Every inch of my body ached for him. „And now, amore mio? What happens next in your dirty little mind?“ Theo’s voice dagging deep into my brain. „I want to feel you“ I admit while locking eyes with him. His intense stare made my body melt in pure pleasure. And as his lips formed into a grin, I knew my deepest desire would come true. Slowly he closed the last gab between us and placed his soft lips demandingly on mine. Our lips moved so sync I thought I‘ve already kissed him a hundred times. His other hand found it’s place on my waist to pull me even closer, so every part of my body could feel his. And how I could feel his body. His cock pressed hard agains my belly while he pressed me against him and my back on the cold wall behind us. I wanted to melt together with him and stay like this forever.

But my aching mid reminded me of what I really needed. „Theo“ I managed to say under my heavy breathing „I want you inside of me“. His eyes sparkled furiously as he took a step back. „If you take off your cloths for me, I will do anything for you to make you feel as good as you made me feel, while my dick fucked your beautiful mouth“ he said and his voice sounded like honey. In trance I took of my all wet sweater. It fell to the ground with a muffled noice. Then I opened the zip of my skirt, which made it slid down my legs slowly. Never breaking eye contact with his beautiful hazel eyes. Patient he waited as I unclipsed my bra until I freed my breasts. Suddenly he was right in front of me. His lips on my neck, searching for my sweet spots, making me gasp. His hands all around me. His fingertips softly caressed my burning skin. And his tip pressing against my soaked panties. „So wet for me already, cara mia?“ he said sweetly „and I have barely touched you yet“. „Mhm“ I mumbled. I was about to melt in his hands. Only the nickname he called me made me weak.

And then there were his soft lips sucking on my neck, leaving marks, everyone could see the next day. But I don’t care. I wanted to be his. And I wanted everyone to see. Slowly he kissed himself down to my breasts. The moment he took my nipple in his mouth to play with his tongue, I know, I must be in heaven. I moaned out his name. His hands rooming my body and sliding down my panties. „Theo, please“ I pleaded. As he didn’t responded nor did anything else than before, the aching pain in my mid grew bigger. I whimpered again until he let go of my breast and looked deep in my eyes, while he came closer. Right in front of my lips he stopped and whispered: „I like it when you plead for my dick“. Then he closed the gap between us again and kissed me. This time his tongue become even more forceful than before and I could only bare imagine, how it would feel to have his tongue playing with my pearl. The moment I tought about it, I felt his thumb where I needed him the most. I gasped as he quickly rubbed against it. My whimpers became moans at the sudden intense feeling. And as the feeling in my stomach grew bigger and bigger I started to moan out his name again. Whereupon he locked eyes with me. „God, I love the way my name sounds, if you moan it like this, cara mia“ he whispered. Only his words were enough to push me over the edge.

But he didn’t give me time to ride out my orgasm. Instead he pressed his tip on my pulsating clit and cared it along my entrance before he spoke again: „and because you moaned my name so beautifully, I want to know how it sounds, if I give you a reason to scream it“. With this he pushed his tip deep inside of me. With one hand on the wall and the other around my throat, he supported himself as he drove deeper with every thrust, while he fucked me against the wall. And as he said, with the feeling of his hard dick pumping into me, he made me scream his name over and over again. As he pleased spots I never new even existed, he made me reach one high after the other.

One of my hands searching for support in his dark curls, while my finders played with his strains. The other one laid on his shoulder, digging my nails in his soft skin. As his trusts became harder, he broke the connection to my neck, where he drew a masterpiece of his affection. „Since I heard you scream my name, amore mio, I don’t want to hear anyone else say it like that ever again“ he confessed breathlessly between his trusts. The nickname and the affirmation pushed me over the edge again. I whimpered and clenched around him, which dragged him with me into his orgasm. „I‘ll moan it for you anytime… I‘m all yours Theodore“ I whispered trembling in his ear, which made him groan as he nestled his face between my neck and my hair.

[pumpkinpastiesandcoffee]

Cursed Experiment

Sukuna x F! Reader ... 18+

Summary: A need to do something of use pushed her on the path of research, a path that lead to Ryomen Sukuna, a path that will haunt her forever. Words: 2646 Warnings: This whole thing is a big TW. NSFW, non con, blood, power play (its Sukuna guys cmon), unprotected, creampie, degredation, breeding kink sort of, size kink sort of.

A/N: I shouldn't have to say this but I don't condone actual r*pe or anything of the sort. This is fanfiction. Emphasis on the fiction.

~MDNI~

Being such a low-grade sorcerer was not the best feeling in the world, looked down on by so many, pitied or hated it felt the same. If only you had been born like a regular human, you could hide away from the monsters of the world, you could live guilt free because of you’re complete and utter uselessness. Unfortunately, however you could see curses, which meant you had to try hard, you had help otherwise that guilt would eat you up. Between that looming guilt, you’re barely there technique and desire for you to at least be able to protect yourself is how you came to be a student at jujutsu high. You did come to learn however, your talents lay in academia. Studying and analyzing, putting together reasonable theories to help in combat against the curses and curse users. After the Shibuya incident you were more determined than ever to learn and with that your mind had set itself upon Yuji Itadori and the powerful curse that resided within him, Ryomen Sukuna.

It had been weeks now, following the boy around and studying him, asking him all sorts of questions then disappearing into as much of the literature you could find. To your surprise, Itadori had been rather enthusiastic about your assessment, hoping in your studying of him that you might find a way to rid him of the curse and spare him or at least give him total control so that Sukuna didn’t harm anyone again. The curse in question had no intention of helping you though, chiming in on occasion purely out of his own amusement. You’d even taken to questioning Choso in order to gleam more insight on how cursed objects affect a host’s body. Although he wasn’t entirely helpful either, more so from a lack of understanding his own nature than a desire to help.

It was the topic of the death paintings that you were currently chatting about to Itadori, sat across from one another on his bed, a notebook to your side and laptop resting atop your lap. “So, we know very little as I said, but we can expect that they were created with their mother’s egg of course however when it comes to the paternal parentage it’s more of an, educated guess. See, it could be Noritoshi’s seed and the curse’s blood or cursed energy.” Taking a breath you continue with a slight exaggeration, “Or, it could be the other way around. The curse’s seed and Noritoshi’s blood. I don’t think imbuing his cursed energy would have passed on the Kamo blood technique though but explaining all why seems unnecessary for now. Anyway, what I’m getting at is…” as you continued on Sukuna had formed a mouth on Itadori’s cheek, remarking to the boy “Well, the little mouse is not so dull, imagine that. Prattles too much though.” Your cheeks burned red, eyes snapping up at the same time Itadori’s hand clapped over his cheek, a grimace on his face as he apologised.

You should be used to it by now, Sukuna had, on quite a few occasions, added his own comment to your conversations and it was never kind. Usually something about your weakness, hence he often referred to you as ‘little mouse’. It hurt at first and Sukuna seemed to enjoy that reaction, however now it mostly pissed you off and even though you tried to ignore him, his taunts seemed to burrow under your skin like some evil little parasite, poisoning your mind with hateful thoughts that had once been so foreign to you. “S’okay Yuji” you reassured, shaking your head and flashing a somewhat strained smile. You couldn’t blame him, he was nothing like Sukuna, so you were always quick to remind him of that. As you turned your eyes back to your notebook you hummed, a stray thought finding it’s way past your lips, “If you fathered a child, I wonder if it would possess any of Sukuna’s techniques or biology.” Thinking out loud truly was a bad habit and you felt nerves creep over you the second you said it, apologizing immediately, worried it was an inappropriate topic or just plain insensitive considering his impending execution.

“What an interesting question mouse, perhaps you should experiment, be the next Noritoshi hm?” The snide remark sent chills down your spine and Itadori stood up, waving his hands nervously as he apologised again. “Ah, perhaps that’s enough of my chatter for the night, I’ll leave you be Yuji” your voice had a waver to it, betraying your discomfort as you stood to collect your things. As you turned to leave, a hand clamped over your wrist and the sudden restraint had you jolting, notebook and laptop falling to the floor with a crash. As your eyes met Itadori’s you felt that cold chill wash over you, that feeling when your entire body knows it’s in danger and your stomach seems to collapse into itself and leave a nauseating heaviness in your gut. The hairs on your body stood on end as the sight of Sukuna’s distinct markings made your brain scream in fear and as you began to pull your hand back you knew his comments about your weakness were accurate. He could squeeze his hand and snap your wrist like a twig and the energy that radiated off of him stole your breath away.

He was smirking as he pulled his hand to his chest, forcing you close to him as he spoke in low voice, “You ask a lot of questions, it’s … vexing.” His voice trailed into a something of a growl, his annoyance clear as he continued, “So I’ll provide the experiment to answer one of your many questions, it has been a long time since I’ve indulged after all so I get something out of it too.” He really phrased it like he was about to do you a favor and in hopes of changing his mind, your brain and mouth finally started to work again and you teared up as you stuttered, “No, no Sukuna it, it was a p-passing though, please, d-don’t, I don’t want this!” Your words began to roll together in the panic as you began tugging against his vice like grip. He remained unmoved, staring at you like you were a hissing kitten, amusement barely hiding the cruelty in his eyes.

“You don’t want this? Hm, I thought you were dedicated to your studies, a shame.” Sukuna tilted his head, hand releasing you as he crossed his arms, muscles flexing in a way that only cemented your fear further. “I took control for this little experiment and you don’t want it? Ungrateful. Disrespectful.” With your arm free you stepped back, once, twice, then you turned to sprint and within an instant a hand had splayed out across your stomach, winding you with the force and as a scream tried to claw itself out of your throat another hand had clamped over your mouth. You felt your body being drawn back towards him and while Itadori himself wasn’t an overly large guy, he wasn’t like Aoi Todo in build or even Gojo in height, he still dwarfed you and his hand seemed to cover the entire lower half of your face, a couple fingers stretching down your neck.

The hand Sukuna had pressed to your stomach traced up to your neck, fingers curling over the neckline to form a fist around the fabric before yanking harshly, the buttons and fabric of your uniform giving away easily under the force he used. He pulled your bra down next, exposing your chest to the room as your tears ran freely down your cheeks now, collecting against his hand before spilling over and dripping down. A bored hum resonated from his chest as his free hand groped at your breasts, index and thumb capturing your nipple before pinching it harshly making your writhe against him as you tried to cry out only for the sound to muffle. Your hands tugged at his arm, trying to pull it off your chest as he chuckled. “I’d normally prefer to let you scream your little lungs out but, I’m on limited time so let’s not risk being interrupted.”

Sukuna turned towards the bed as his hand released your nipple only to travel down to lift your skirt instead, snaking under your panties and fingers parting your lips and searching for your core. Your hands followed his arm, nails digging into his skin as you tried to stop, your choked pleas ignored as his middle finger pressed into you with a groan. “Even for such a little thing your tight, I wonder, is it fear or is my little mouse a virgin? Perhaps both” he chuckled as he pressed his palm against your pelvis, forcing your body further against him and the erection that was now clearly rubbing against your lower back. The hand over your mouth loosened, giving you space to breathe and you took the chance to beg the curse for mercy and he rolled his eyes as he scoffed, “You’d be better off screaming, I have no intentions of stopping. I am curious though, is this fragile little body of your really untouched?” Sobbing, you nodded “Please, Sukuna please, don’t, don’t, please don’t.” “How fitting, a virgin sacrifice, that should be an omen of success for this experiment” Sukuna laughed, once again ignoring the pleas as his hand clamped back down on your mouth.

Forcing another finger into your tight heat had you squirming, pressing up on your toes in an attempt to get away but it only served to make the monster behind you groan into your ear. Deciding not to waste anymore time, Sukuna removed his fingers and instead used them to tear off the flimsy fabric that had been your underwear. “I’m gonna need both hands now, so no screaming yeah? Anyone that interrupts me will die and you don’t want people dying on your behalf, do you?” Another sob seems to wrack itself through your body and your hands fell away from his arm, your will to fight fizzling out at the promise of death. “I’m going to need you to answer me mouse, I want to hear you say you won’t scream.” As he dropped his hand from your mouth you barely had the capacity to speak, choking out between sobs, “I won’t scream, I won’t, I promise.” Sukuna chuckled, content with your compliance, “That’s a good little mouse.”

Now he pressed you forward and into the bed, forcing you onto your knees, ass up and face pressed into the mattress. He unbuttoned the fly of his trousers, pulling his cock out and rubbing the fat tip against your pussy. His touch might have been rough but your body had reacted how he wanted and you were slick enough it would be enjoyable for him. You dug your fingers into the duvet, wishing, praying you’d sink into it and disappear before he got any further but your thoughts got crushed as forced the angry red tip into you. Sukuna dug his own nails into your ass as he gripped himself and tried to get in further, “If you don’t relax, I’m only going to be rougher.” He sounded irritated, like the burning stretch that had you crying harder now was simply an inconvenience to him. You tried though, you really did, squeezing your eyes shut and willing your body to relax to the intrusion but it had a mind of its own and seemed only to defy you, muscles clenching in an attempt to stop the curse from using you.

Sukuna clicked his tongue, “I warned you” and he pulled your hips back harshly, forcing himself in. You know you promised not to, but you screamed, it was thankfully muffled by the duvet that you had pulled into your face but Sukuna brought a hand down on your hip, snapping at you to be quiet. It felt like you were being split in half, like he tore your tight cunt to fit himself in, a burning, stinging pain that radiated throughout your pelvis and down your thighs making you gasp for air. He moved more freely now, sliding in and out with a deep grunt of pleasure as the coppery smell of blood filled your nostrils making you gag and bury your face deeper into the bed. “Humans, you’re as fragile and weak as bugs” He mused as he slammed your hips back against himself again. Even now he seemed bored, as if using your body like some fuck toy meant nothing to him. Maybe if your mind wasn’t so shattered you’d have picked up on how his pleasure seemed to come from dominating you, tormenting you, ruining you.

He reached a hand forward, yanking your hair to the side, forcing your face into the light and displaying the swollen red mess that was your eyes. Cheeks streaked with tears and the outline of his handprint that had slowly begun to bloom into a bruise in some places. He grinned then, eyes taking in your look of despair as he fucked you into him at a brutal pace, hand returning to your hip and once again he sunk his nails into your flesh pulling a broken cry from your lips. It sounded hoarse, your throat sore from sobbing, from screaming into his hand then the bed. Sukuna knew he was running low on time, he could feel Itadori trying to claw back out and he focused on the blood now instead. Watched as it beaded up then slipped over the swell of your ass, some of the droplets making it as far as your thighs.

Finally Sukuna felt that coil tighten, pulling your body as close as he could, the head of his cock now hitting your cervix with bruising force that had you whimpering in pain despite the odd heat of pleasure that still managed to build in your own stomach. He rutted himself against your ass, blood smearing and staining his pants, the smell of it and sex filling the air and with a low, rumbling groan he spilled himself inside. Your heartbroken sobs only serving to fuel him, encouraging him to press as deep as your body could possibly allow and he stilled, breathing slow and deep, watching your tense body quiver. “Hm, here’s a question for you. If you do get pregnant, will Itadori be there for you and the child? Will he run, convince you to abort it, maybe he’ll suggest you keep it? He’ll definitely blame himself either way. Stupid. Humans are so stupid. I look forward to it though. Breaking him is very enjoyable after all.” Sukuna pulled away, completely releasing you now, watching as the mix of blood and cum slowly dribbled out of your swollen cunt, the occasional drip falling onto the bed below.

Once you realised you were free you collapsed, legs pulling up to your chest as you trembled, waiting for the curse to disappear as bile burnt your throat as the sick reality of the situation settled over you. It felt like forever and yet it somehow it felt like it had all happened in the blink of an eye and you realised you felt dizzy, the room seemed to swim and shift before your eyes. Suddenly Itadori’s voice rang out, a choked gasped followed by a loud thud as he stumbled back only to fall on his ass. Itadori didn’t want to look, he really didn’t want to see but his eyes seemed fixated on the trembling form on his bed and he knew, he knew all the apologies in the world, no matter how sincere, weren’t going to fix this. A silence seemed to swallow the room now, disturbed only by Itadori’s scattered breaths and your own shaky, whimpered ones.

[haikyu-mp4]

For cartwheels

word count; 1062 – gn!reader, inspired by my desperate dream of doing a cartwheel

Tsukishima Kei was so happy to get home after a long day at the museum where he worked, desperate to spend the evening inside in your company. Unfortunately, he married you, so he could never get the peace he wanted for free.

You were standing awkwardly on the lawn in front of your house when he exited the car. Your husband walked closer slowly as if approaching a dangerous animal. “Why are you out here, brat?” he asked affectionately, but then he saw the tear trickling down from your eye. “What’s wrong?”

With a sniffle, you lift your arm and wipe at the tear before pouting at him, shoulders shaking a little but he wasn’t sure if it was sobs or oncoming laughter because it seemed like a mixture of both. “I so desperately want to do a cartwheel,” you explained, letting another tear fall.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked, wondering if he heard you right as he straight up stopped and just stared at you.

“I suddenly got this intense urge to do a cartwheel, but I can’t do a cartwheel!”

“Have you tried, are you hurt?” he asked, this time wondering if maybe you had tried already and that was why you were crying.

“I just told you, I can’t do cartwheels. I’m stuck walking around like some lame person.” you insisted, walking around in a circle as if for emphasis. He covered his mouth with his hand, acting as if he was thinking and even putting the other hand on his hip for the act, but really he was just trying not to laugh at you when you were feeling so emotional. He didn’t understand why this made you cry, and he probably never would. There are many times in this marriage where you tested his patience, but he never loved you any less.

After basking in this weird energy for a minute, he put his bag down and started rolling up his sleeves. “Just try it.”

You wrung your hands and swayed your body a bit like a little kid who is about to ask their parent for something. “Will you try with me? I’m scared that the neighbours will see me do it alone and think I’m weird.”

“God forbid they think that,” he mumbled sarcastically, making you lightly slap his chest. He blinked in disbelief, so close to just saying no, but there was something about the way you looked at him like he could save your entire day. “I can call Yamaguchi and ask if he wants to come over for a playdate?” he asked, bratty as ever despite his affection for you.

“I want you! This is what I married you for,” you said, always turning overly dramatic when Tsukki fought against you.

Once again, he deadpanned as he looked at you, silently asking if you were serious. “You married me to do cartwheels together in our garden?”

You grinned innocently and shrugged your shoulders. “Amongst other things.”

His eyes fell closed, pinching between them with his pointer finger and thumb. Tsukishima actually couldn’t believe he was about to agree, except yes he could. He was so smitten with you that there was no doubt in his mind he would eventually agree anyway. “Fine, but you have to make dinner after I break both my arms and legs.”

Completely ignoring his dramatics, you clap your hands excitedly. “You’re the athlete, you have to go first.” His eyes were cursing you, but he still got ready, breathing in and out as his eyes measured the space he had. You giggled and stood at the side, cheering for him like a cheerleader. “Go, Tsukki!”

“It’s Kei to you,” he said, breaking his concentration again because nothing was worth his time more than bickering with you.

“Do the cheerleaders at your games call you that?” you argued with a scrunched nose, reminding him you could be just as stubborn.

“No, but I’m not married to them!” he said, finally reaching the level of exasperated.

You giggle, always happy to hear him say you’re married. “Let’s go, baby, while the sun is up.”

It’s such a bratty line that he considered refusing again, but he finally got ready so that the two of you could get it over with. If you hadn’t been cheering for him, you would have heard him mumble a quick “Lucky I love you” before he finally lifted his arms and tried to do a cartwheel across the grass.

It wasn’t that bad, honestly. He did just fine at first but then forgot to steady himself and one leg just followed the other and the next thing he knew, he was sitting on the ground with his glasses askew. You cheered loudly as Tsukishima straightened up his glasses and huffed. “Was it exhilarating?” you asked, holding out a hand to help him up.

“I’m never doing it again,” he insisted while you pulled him up. He squeezed your hand and gestured with his free hand towards the open space. “Your turn.”

An excited giggle left your mouth as you moved to where he stood previously, but your face fell abruptly when he just watched you silently. “Are you not going to cheer?”

He pursed his lips and lifted a hand like the Statue of Liberty, followed by a weak “Go, go, let’s go!”

That was more than enough to satisfy you, as you put up your hands and skipped for a step or two before tumbling across the lawn. It didn’t last for long, and you weren’t particularly good at it. But your laugh when you landed was enough of a sign to Kei that his mission succeeded. You were happy.

He helped you up and pulled you to his chest. The neighbours were totally watching you. “Was is exhilarating?” he asked you back.

“My butt hurts,” you complained, but it was still mixed with laughter.

He chuckled. It sounded like music to your ears. The soft kind of chuckle that caressed your heart and reminded you he was the one. “Mine too, honey.”

As you started making your way inside, Kei had his arm over your shoulders and yours was stretched across his back while he told you about his day. All you could do was stare up at him in wonder. That’s the man you married. In sickness and in health, for cartwheels and other things.

masterlist

/I got to the part where the reader asks him to join and suddenly realised I had no idea what character I was writing for, so I started imagining every moody haikyuu character doing cartwheels.

[buck-star]

MFML: Prologue | L.H

>> You never thought life would have so many facets — up and downs and everything in between. A new job, new apartment, new dates and new friends. What you didn’t expect was for you to find yourself in a ‘no string attached’ situation that wasn’t as ‘no string attached’ as you tried to tell yourself. And your new neighbor didn’t make it easy to not fall in love with him. <<

Pairing: FWB!Logan Howlett x FWB!Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.229 Words

Warnings: fluff, flirting, some naughty comments, petnames [lovebug, bear], more fluff, so much more fluff

Authors Note: This series is based on the idea of @wtfhasmy-lifecometo, who is also such an amazing support during the writing process and helping with all the ideas. Divider made by me.

Events: Fandom-Free: Frosty Edition [G1 | Hairs standing up on the back of your neck | @fandom-free-bingo], Seasonal delights bingo: types of love [N1 | "i think that we make a pretty good team, the two of us." | @seasonaldelightsbingo]

Masterlist | Logan Howlett Masterlist

MFML Series Masterlist

The cool breeze blowing through the street doesn’t even cool you down a bit. Sweat is running down your forehead; you’re panting and trying to catch your breath when you pick up the next box. It is heavier than the ones before, and you curse under your breath, lifting it up slightly before you let it fall back into the trunk of your car. The box was definitely too heavy for you alone to pick up and carry into your new apartment.

With a groan, you turn around and pick up one of the lighter boxes you already moved out of the car onto the sidewalk. Some help will definitely help, but moving into a new town with no one around but your grandmother doesn’t offer anyone who can help you. Of course, you can ask your grandmother, but she can carry less than you, so you wouldn’t get the heavy boxes into your apartment either.

“Need a hand, lady?” A low voice comes from next to you. You don’t notice anyone walking toward you, so you shriek and immediately get up from your bending-down position. Unfortunately, your trunk is still open, and with the force you get up, you hit your head and groan. The man, who just offered his help, walks another step closer. “Are you okay? Didn’t want to scare ya.”

He’s tall, towering above you. Only when you look up do you notice the cute kitty ears he has made with his hair. You’re not sure if it’s on purpose or if it’s like a ‘cute hair day’ but whatever it is — it suits him and makes the big man look actually pretty cute. He has a trimmed beard, which looks just as fluffy as his hair, and you have to push down the urge to touch it.

“‘m Logan, did ya hurt ya’self much?” He asks, watching you run your hand over the back of your head where you just hit it. You shake your head; it was more the shock than everything else.

“I’m y/n. But no, I didn't hurt myself, not really. Was just shocked that you were suddenly standing next to me,” you explained, sliding your fingers through your hair before you place it on the trunk to close it. He nods, looking at the boxes that are standing around you and on the sidewalk. Then his green eyes move to the boxes in your car, and he frowns slightly. “Uhm… I will pick them up later.”

He shakes his head, taking your hand softly from your car. Logan's touch is gentle, and his hands are soft and warm. You shiver slightly, narrowing your eyes as he leads you away from your car to the sidewalk. “Lemme carry them; ya take the light ones; I get the ones here. Then you don’t need to carry them ya’self.”

He doesn’t let you argue with him; he will carry the boxes for you if you want or not; he won’t let a pretty thing like you hurt yourself because you may be too stubborn to let him help you with it.

You sigh, nodding when you pick up one of the lighter boxes and wait for Logan to get a heavy one out of the trunk of your car. But instead of taking just one, he places a second on top of it and lifts it up. Your mouth drops open and your eyes widen as you watch him pick it up like it weighs nothing.

“So where do you wan— are you okay, lovebug?” Logan asks, the pet name slipping past his lips like it’s the most normal thing. For a moment he was afraid you would look at him weird, but when your expression doesn’t change, he thinks to himself that it actually feels pretty good.

He doesn’t even know why he called you that, but it’s just fitting. You’re so sweet and precious, just like a ladybird — one of his favorite little animals. But the cuteness makes you just so loveable that he comes up with that pet name without even thinking about it deeply.

”Mhm… I mean. Do yo— Isn’t that a bit too heavy?” You ask, narrowing your eyes as he makes his way to the front door. He chuckles, shaking his head and waiting for you to lead the way. You nod slowly, looking him up and down to make sure he won’t break underneath the boxes. But he stands there on steady legs, not even looking like he holds such heavy things in his hands.

You walk into the hallway of the house. Logan grins as you walk further and further through the hallway and closer to his apartment. He chuckles when you stop a door away on the opposite side, watching you look for your keys.

“Looks like my new neighbor isn’t that bad. No couple that’s going to fuck all night long,” he says, walking into your apartment. He places the boxes in the living room and turns around to face you once again. Logan’s green eyes are piercing into yours, noticing the amusement about his comment. “Ya laugh, it’s really annoying to hear them having one quick fuck every three hours because he’s like a teenager and comes before she does.”

“And you are not like a teenager? Maybe you haven’t had the perfect one wrapped around your little Logan down there,” you tease. Logan rolls his eyes playfully; he moves closer to you with a grin, trying to find something to say, but you cut him off after placing the boxes down as well. “There are still some more boxes to carry for you, bear.”

Logan frowns when you call him ‘bear’. It doesn’t sound bad at all, but how is it possible that you two just met and it feels like you know one another for so long already? Like you know one another for years already, better than anyone else. The pet name and your sly smile cause a warmth spreading through his body, and he can’t help but feel himself smiling even more.

Logan wasn't that happy in a whole, but then you walked into his life — or he walked into you — and suddenly he feels like every fear, every pain is taken away from him, out of reach just because he can see you smile and knows it’s him who makes you feel that way.

“Bear, huh?” He asks, following you back to the car. Lovebug and bear, he hasn’t heard people calling another one that before, but it makes the bond you hopefully build even deeper. And even though Logan doesn’t know what kind of relationship you two are going to have at some point, he knows that he wants you at least as a good friend.

“Yeah, you’re just as strong as one, plus you’re hairy. You have hair on your head and your beard. I’m sure you have hairy arms and legs,” you explain, picking up another box, while Logan takes two more and closes the trunk. He chuckles, shaking his head. Logan’s eyes barely leave your smaller frame, and he already loved the way the two of you could joke around.

“Wait ‘til ya see my chest and stomach,” he tells you. Your eyes widen, and he grunts amused as you instinctively lick your lips in a teasing manner. “Or my happy trail; it’s a happy way to the places you only dream about, lovebug.”

“You think I only dream about it? I may have all those little films, magazines, and toys in those heavy boxes. Or what do you think is in them?” You tease him, and this time it’s on Logan to gasp softly — it was just playful, but it was funny enough for the two of you to burst out laughing. The whole complex was able to hear the two of you, and now it wasn’t someone moaning or skin slapping against skin. This time it was the happiness and joy that was spread around because of you two nearing and getting along like old friends — ready to develop your relationship even further.

After carrying all the boxes into your apartment, Logan makes it his mission to look around. You don’t have a lot of stuff built up yet; not even your bed is ready for you to sleep in. But you have your couch, and you don’t mind sleeping there — you don’t mind it. But Logan does; if you sleep the first night in your new apartment, you should sleep perfectly fine. He won’t let you sleep on the couch when he can get your bed ready with little effort.

So, when he walks back into the kitchen to ask you for the tools he needs, he can’t help but chuckle low in his throat. You are bending over — once again — to order the plates and cups and place them into the kitchen counters.

Logan leans against the counter opposite you, smirking when you get up and turn around to face him. The glistening of amusement in your eyes makes his lips curl up even more, and he tilts his head slightly.

“Actually, I was wondering where ya tools are, but I don’t mind this pretty view either. Ya like bending over for me; ya’re doing it whenever I’m around,” he jokes. Your cheeks heat up, and you look away, pretending to find the tooles. It’s what you want to do, but his intense stare at you, the green eyes boring into you, and the smile you can even feel make it hard to concentrate on anything but him.

“They are… uhm—“ you interrupt yourself. You’re standing on your tiptoes to have a better look over the living room and the boxes that are standing in front of the chairs at the table. “Maybe… over there, by the couch.”

Logan follows where you point, his eyes scanning the stuff standing there — boxes, plants, a few books in a smaller carton, and the tools he is looking for. With a look at you and a soft nod, he pushes himself off the counter. He feels your eyes on him, a smirk across his face because he knows that you’re watching his muscles flex with every movement he’s doing.

Since he took off his hoodie after the second time carrying boxes into your apartment and he was feeling way too hot to keep on his thick hoodie, he revealed his thick arms in a tight shirt. His shirt is tight enough to show off his flexing back muscles and his chest and abs. This man really is well trained, and you have to stop yourself from daydreaming and drooling over him when he walks around or carries anything. Logan could probably lift you up and carry you around, or manhan—.

“Ya starin’ and droolin’, lovebug,” Logan mumbles, walking over to the tools to get your bed fixed. You close your mouth, your tongue bulging your cheek out, and you bite your lip with a soft smirk. You watch him walking through the living room, kneeling down with a quiet crack in his knees as he looks through the tools he needs. “Don’t laugh; you will crack like that once you’re my age too.”

“Which age are we talking about?” You smirk, leaning with your forearms on the counter to look at him. Logan looks up at you, his lips twitching. You shake your head, chuckling. “Don’t act like you’re that much older, bear.”

“Around 200 years,” Logan says casually. Your eyes widen, and you gasp. This was a bad joke, Logan being around two hundred years older but looking like he’s just a few years older than you.

“And how old are you really?” You ask, titling your head. But Logan looks with such determination and truth in his green eyes at you that you swallow thickly. Logan gets up from the floor, walking closer to you. He grins at you while keeping his eyes on you. Your unbelievable expression makes you so cute and adorable.

“Around 200 years,” he repeats. “Ya think I’m lying? Maybe once we have more time and ya bed is all fixed, I will tell ya, lovebug.”

You nod, and Logan leans over the counter opposite you. Your faces are only inches away from one another, and you can feel his warm breath against your soft skin. You shiver, trying to stay steady, but you squirm slightly and earn a chuckle from Logan.

“H-how about we get some coffee once you’re done fixing my bed. Because I feel like I can’t talk it out of you,” you say quietly, almost breathless. Logan nods; he pushes himself off the counter, happy that you accept his offer to let him fix your bed without arguing. He feels like you know that he can be just as stubborn as you if he wants — so why argue when he can help you with stuff. You can really need his strength.

“I think that we make a pretty good team, the two of us. So, no, you definitely can’t talk me out of it. But coffee sounds good, then I better hurry,” Logan says, turning around to walk back into your living room. He can’t wait to get out with you; he may tell you more about himself then, but he will also get to know more about you as well.

Taglist: @pono-pura-vida @sergeantbarnessdoll @rogersbarber @kimmie113080 @sebastianstanisahotmf @fandomxo00

[azrielsrealmate]

Choose well.

azriel x reader

summary: having your period as a fae is easy, except when you have to put a tampon on. A real luck your boyfriend’s always willing to help.

warnings: blood, nudity (not smut tho), tampons? (Im sure tampons do not exist on the acotar universe but idc😸)

word count: 1.6k

You almost whimpered in pain. Your legs were spread open, and you were simply… naked from the waist down, as you watched yourself trying to push that small white cylinder inside. It stung, and your eyebrows arched in pain.

There were many things you didn’t understand about the Fae, but this… you hissed in pain as you pushed it further in; this was definitely the worst. Madja had recommended it to you, so you just got a handful of them. But you didn’t think it would hurt, in fact, you practically didn’t think at all under the healer’s gentle and empathetic gaze. But now you cursed yourself, stopping the pressure from your fingers for a moment. And you cursed aloud again. Why were you like this? Why did you have to be so impulsive when you always ended up regretting it afterward, and never regretted it when you stopped and thought it through?

Two knocks sounded on the wooden door of your room. The muscles in your lower back went rigid, and you almost cursed aloud again when you accidentally pushed the tampon deeper.

“Sweetheart?”

Grave but soft. Concerned but patient. Waves of sound that seemed to have the same effect as that soothing liquid you had taken just a few hours earlier, relaxed your back. You almost whimpered in relief. He was even calling you sweetheart again.

He called your name, his voice taking on a more worried tone. Serious.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. Impulsively, you pushed it out. And exhaled in pain; that stung even more. Your reassuring words lost weight because of it. “I just…” You didn’t know how to say it. You trusted Azriel, of course, but… “It’s my period.”

You swore you could feel him tense up behind the door for a second, two.

“Can I come in?”

You stood up, your most intimate area stinging in protest.

“Wait.”

You threw the tampon in the nearest trash can and put on some pants. Pants that hung so low on your hips before falling that you knew they were actually his. You adjusted them as you spoke.

“Okay, come in.”

The door opened, and you saw your simply handsome boyfriend enter. Dressed in the usual leathers and siphons, his hazel eyes instantly locked on you, softened by concern, unlike his brows, which furrowed. He inhaled, catching the scent of your period. And something changed in his expression; it molded into something slightly darker. You couldn’t tell what it was.

“My pants,” he murmured, his eyes falling toward them. You felt your cheeks flush.

“Yeah, it’s just that…” You began, hesitantly.

His voice was firm when he responded.

“I don’t mind, keep them. They look better on you.”

You doubted that. But by the way his eyes lingered before moving away, you wanted to believe him. You simply sighed, still thinking about that failed attempt to insert a tampon. It didn’t help that you were a virgin, of course.

Azriel stepped forward, one step after another until he was in front of you. The warmth of his fingers was comforting as he took your chin, moving it, making you stretch your neck to look at him. His hazel eyes were dilated.

“What are you having trouble with?” he asked, tenderly. Your eyebrows arched. Why was he so gentle? You just wanted to melt into him.

It was probably the hormones.

“Uh… well, Madja gave me some… tampons,” you explained. Azriel tensed almost imperceptibly. “And they…” don’t fit. They didn’t fit. Your cheeks were burning.

“Ah,” he simply said. His eyes shifted, as if he were thinking. You watched him; his cheeks had a subtle pink hue. If you weren’t blushing yourself, you would find it adorable. His eyes returned to you, holding a softness that made you relax. Malleable for him. “Do you need help?”

You remained silent. Was he really offering to help with…? You blushed so profusely that his shadows emerged from where they were hidden to caress your cheeks, pretending to cool them.

He watched you in silence, the confusion, the indecision, and finally the determination.

He was still courting you, because you wanted to be sure, to know him before accepting the bond, to know that you could choose and that you would choose well. You hadn’t gone beyond the limits of clothing, but your lips had collided, because your kisses were collisions full of need rather than gentle touches, and his hands had roamed your body, overheating you in ways you didn’t think possible, but nothing more than that. Nothing more than that in dark corners, in the living room, in the kitchen…

“Uh… okay,” you accepted. You took a deep breath, as if the oxygen would help you. You looked everywhere but at him, even at the nightstand beside your bed. “T-the top drawer.” That’s where you kept the tampons.

Azriel moved away, nodding. You felt the loss of warmth instantly, though it wasn’t as if he had been touching you.

While he searched through all the useless things in your drawer looking for the tampons, you slid your hands to the strings you had carelessly tied to fit his pants around your waist, slowly undoing the knot. You were still at it when he found a tampon, closed the drawer, and approached you, not too closely.

You let his pants drop from your body with your heart threatening to leap out of your chest.

His eyes instantly fixed on the softness of your sex. You wanted to look away, feel embarrassed as you supposed was appropriate, but… A voracious and primal hunger darkened his eyes as he stared there, and you only felt warmth, coursing through your body, all the way down to what he was so attentively looking at.

His scent reached you, more musky, and mixed with yours in the air. You swore you could faint from the way your mind fogged when he looked you in the eyes.

“Sit,” he ordered, and you complied, feeling the softness of your bed’s comforter as you sat on the edge of it with your legs pressed together.

Azriel took a step, and then another, and another. And he was in front of you while you refused to meet the honey of his eyes.

He sank to one knee, and you had to look at him as he placed the other knee on the ground. His gaze fixed on you.

Something softened in him, as if he remembered the situation. And his hand was really gentle as it touched the outer part of your thigh and descended to your knee, slipping under your knee.

“May I?” he asked, his voice pure velvet. You nodded, your mind spinning.

His other hand also found your knee and pushed them apart, exposing your warmth, but his gaze held yours. You licked your lips, heart hammering against your ribcage, cold air hitting your sex. Your head was so hazy, you were barely managing to generate thoughts that made sense. How could you, when you breathed his arousal and exhaled your own. And it seemed like he wanted to make sure you were okay, agreeing with all of this before lowering his gaze. He did once you didn’t did any movement to close your legs, nor any sign of discomfort showed on your face.

Your scent musked more. Your cunt shining with arousal. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. You saw that same hunger in his gaze again, and you grabbed the comforter on your bed.

He opened you a bit more with his hand on your thigh and pressed the tampon against your entrance. It slid inside with your lubrication, the stinging practically nonexistent. Azriel devoured the sight, while you remembered Madja’s words. The advice.

“I-it has to go deeper,” you informed him in a hoarse voice, and you saw him shiver at that.

His finger pushed it deeper, and now you felt the sting of his digit entering. Stretching you. A small grimace of pain appeared on your lips, struggling against the urge to press your thighs together. For a second it felt wrong. Just for a second, because his shadows caressed your lower back tenderly, and the muscles underneath relaxed, as well as you. His digit slid easier then.

Azriel growled at the feeling of your warmth engulfing him, stretching around a mere finger. Your eyes drifted to his wings, huge and folded behind him, really big and long from the times you had the chance to see him stretch them.

He had to be enormous. God. Monstrously so.

“Do you ever think about how we’re going to manage to…” get him to fit inside you? You didn’t get to say those words before he interrupted with almost a growl.

“All the time.” He growled it out and paused, stopped pushing the tampon further in. “I’ll be slow. I’ll be gentle.” He promised.

“It’ll take time.”

“I’m patient.”

He looked at you with pupils nearly covering his entire iris. It took you a heartbeat to realize that he had stopped pushing the tampon in and his eyes were asking.

You shifted slightly; you didn’t feel the tampon inside you. And yet there was still plenty of string left. You nodded.

“That’s fine,” you told him, your voice coming out lower than you intended.

He slowly withdrew his finger from your cunt, both of you watching it. It glistened with your arousal and a slight trace of blood.

“I’m so-“

“Nothing to apologize for,” he assured, and when you looked at him, he really didn’t seem even the slightest bit disturbed by the blood.

“Does it hurt?” he asked after a second. You shook your head.

“Good.” He leaned and pressed a kiss to each one of your knees, gentle and tender, a small smile stretched your lips.

Indeed, you were choosing well.

[loviingpedri]

tasting blondies - mason mount and joe burrow

prompt: noticing a pattern in your love life.

joe b x reader

ex!mason mount x reader

warnings: grammar issues, cursing, arguing

click to help palestine

credits to owners for all images

sitting on the couch with you boyfriend, joe. you ran your fingers through his short hair.

“i can’t believe you did this.” you laughed as both of you smiled.

“yeah, me either. i decided to change it up for the summer. do something for the new season.” he held you tight, smelling his strong cologne.

“if it’s one thing, you look good. really good.” you clicked your tongue at the emphasis of the word ‘really’.

and that’s when the flashback hit you.

slowly touching his hair, admiring the white chocolate color. at the same time a few years ago, you would be ending a messy situation with a boy with a similar haircut, mason mount.

“is there something wrong?” joe asked you as your expression changed.

“no, nothing is wrong. something just came in mind.”

you love joe, seriously. the memories of june 2023 always come back to haunt you. meeting the famous other footballer, changing your life. you experienced so many things within a month. you were so attached, blinded by love, nothing would’ve seen it coming.

on mason’s summer vacation, he invited you to go to spain with him. of course you accepted, you wanted to see what this relationship could bring to your life.

in the end, it was pain, regret, and heartbreak.

joe was staring at your facial features and talking gently, “you can talk to me.”

“it’s nothing. just some old memories came back. it was never important anyway.” your cleared your throat, desperately wanting to change the topic on the conversation.

“is it about that one guy you told me about? mason mount, right?”

you looked at him, trying to find a good answer.

“yeah, but i don’t wanna think about him. he’s long gone in my life. i’m craving some brownies, what about you?”

laughing at you, “i think it’s funny, the guys sent in the group chat of him when i first showed my hair. they said it was funny how you’re dating another blonde now.”

“i never thought of that.” you laid your back on the coach, really taking in the information of the pattern you just figured out.

“you know, you never told me what happened with him.” you looked at joe, a lump formed in your throat.

————flashbacks————

“are you serious right now, mase?” you pushed him away from you as he was attempting to explain.

“it wasn’t like that!”

“you use that same fucking excuse for everything.”

“i’m not the one who followed someone else on this vacation.” he threw his arms up.

“everything is about you. isn’t it? i went on this vacation because i was in love with you. mase, you can’t be serious right now.”

“nobody told you to catch feelings, alright. i thought we both assumed this wasn’t gonna be serious.” you scoffed at him.

“so you took this as a joke? i am not a joke.”

“holy shit, you’re actually unbelievable. we were never official!”

“to you. you think mind games is funny?”

“i only thought this was a summer fling. i thought you were gonna see other people, like me. i wasn’t gonna stay in chelsea forever and i was sure you weren’t gonna stay.”

tears forming in your eyes. you were in disbelief.

“of course i was gonna stay with you. i was ready to leave everything behind to follow you. i thought we had something.”

“sorry y/n. you thought wrong.”

————flashback ended————

you cleared your throat as you poured white chocolate chips into the batter.

“so yeah, that was my lame ex.” you gave him a warm smile as you shared the most vulnerable part of your life.

“you didn’t deserve that, seriously.” joe stroked your hair as he ate a few chips.

“the past is past. the pain is healed, and i’ve got the best boyfriend ever.”

joe kissed your forehead as the oven beeped after it was done pre-heating.

-

sitting on the couch with freshly baked blondies.

“i think you have some sort of magic on men.” joe said, taking a bite after.

“what?”

“you start dating a guy, then all of a sudden, he goes blonde.” he shrugged his shoulders.

“i’ve never thought of that. i’m just really that powerful then.”

sharing a laugh, you were proud of the person you became. the pain healed, and so did your heart.

because, in the end, your feelings are valid. and you learned a lesson that no matter how much something hurts you, you can find happiness somewhere else, for the better.

[chelseasdagger]

Teacher - Chapter III

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader

Summary: Frank invites you to hang out with him at a bar on the outskirts of town. After some good food, and lots of teasing, you get invited back to his place to take care of the problem you caused him.

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of drinking and smoking, cursing, grinding, detailed handjob sorry, slight praise kink

Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it took for this chapter to come out!! I had a lot of life issues that delayed this, but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out so please accept this super long chapter as my apology/holiday gift!! And if you want to be added to the tag list just let me know. As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 9k

Previous Chapters: I, II

“So I was thinkin’… Said you didn’t get many experiences even after high school, right?” Frank asks. His voice slightly muffled through the phone, which is wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you drag the spatula over the food you’re cooking on the stove. He had randomly rang you out of the blue and, after attempting to control your breathing, you answered the call. This was what he chose to greet you with and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused by the topic of conversation.

“Good morning to you too,” you tease, the food sizzling as you flip it in the pan. “But no, I haven’t. Why? What’s up?” you question.

“There’s this bar on the edge of town,” he begins his offer. “Little bit of a drive but they got good food,” he explains. 

“Tempting…” you trail off, trying not to immediately agree just because it’s Frank. “Who all is coming?”

“Just me,” he replies. “That alright?”

“Yeah!” Your answer is too loud and far too fast to be playing it cool. After cursing yourself mentally, you try again. “Yeah, I was just wondering if it was a whole… get-together thing.” Your voice grows quiet at the end, not wanting to plant the idea in his head that you’d prefer it if there were more people.

Honestly, you were surprised he was reaching out this soon after the bonfire. It was one of the best nights of your life. Whenever you think about it, there’s this warmth that rushes through you; you’re not sure if the heat was from the big flames or his strong chest you laid against all night.

“Nah, just me. Just thought it would be somethin’ you might like,” you push the spatula around in the teflon pan as he speaks. “Plus it’s another thing off the list, right?”

“Yeah, it is! Thanks, Frank,” you say cheerily as you turn the burner off and open the cupboards to grab two plates.

“No problem, kid. Just thought about you, y’know?” You sink your teeth in your lower lip to calm yourself down before another thought comes to mind.

“Oh! When are we going?”

“Tonight,” he answers nonchalantly and your eyes grow wide. “If you’re free.”

You seriously weren’t expecting him to want to see you only two days since you two were last together. In your head, Frank is so calm and collected and you’re practically certain that this… thing you two have going on isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to you. Still, you try not to question too much why he actually seems to enjoy having you around. Instead, you decide to just take the good as it comes.

“I am, I can do tonight. But I’m not sure I have something to wear. Is it like a club? Should I dress up or is it more jeans and—?” You don’t even realize when your voice picks up in speed and the questions fly out faster than you intend for them to, but Frank is quick to center you out of the beginning of your spiral.

“Just wear somethin’ cute, alright? I’ve seen some of your outfits, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment and inhale deeply before sighing. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” You hum an agreement as he confirms the time and say a goodbye before hanging up.

As you pull the phone away from your ear, you see an incoming text from your best friend drop down from the top of the screen.

“I’m two minutes away! I can’t wait to hear everything.”

That night when you got home from the bonfire, she had sent many texts in hopes of finding out the reasoning behind the newfound closeness between you and Frank. In your exhausted and slightly inebriated state, you told her that you would have her over Saturday morning to explain it all to her. You were much too tired to string the words together and you also know how she can tend to put her own emotions onto words; the last thing you needed was for her to hear the little arrangement you and Frank have and blow it out of proportion.

You set the table as you wait for her, making sure to leave a mug beside her plate for her tea that tends to be the staple of her breakfast. By the time the food is divvied up for each of you, there’s an impatient knock at the door. You shake your head with a smile as you open the door and she’s pushing past you as the questions immediately begin to roll off her tongue.

After guiding her to the small dining table in the kitchen, you watch her sit down and her eyes never stray from you. Her voice continues to fill the air as she talks over herself; there’s no distinct end to one sentence and the beginning of the next. By the time you’re sitting beside her and about to dig into your meal she finally covers her mouth, stopping all the enthusiastic queries she desperately wants to know.

“I’m gonna let you talk,” she mumbles behind her palms. You laugh at her attempts to force herself to be quiet and pick up a forkful of your food.

“I promise you it’s not as exciting as you think it is,” you warn her before popping the food in your mouth.

You start at the beginning—trying to skim over the details of your not-so-controlled crush on Frank as well as the more heated parts of the things you two have done together. Excited gasps fill the space surrounding the dining table and you watch as her eyes go wide when you mention it was his idea. Her mouth gets the better of her though and she begins to ask more questions while you speak. You make sure to answer all of them in time, save for a few chuckles here and there, before finishing your last bite.

“I actually have a question for you now,” you start again, watching as confusion washes over her features. “Frank called me this morning and he wants to take me out to this bar he likes. I just don’t know what to wear and I was hoping… you could help me?” You hesitantly look up to face her and you’re met with a beaming grin.

“Is this a date?! Is this the first one? Are you going back to his place after?” You shake your head once again as the sudden influx of questions fill the air.

“No, it’s not a date. I mean… I don’t think it is?” you let your thought process be shown aloud and watch as her giddy expression comes back to the surface. “It’s not! We’re just friends and he’s doing me a favor. I’m sure of it.” You decide then and there that you can’t afford to hold out hope and expect more than what he’s given you—which is already so much.

She raises her eyebrows up from behind the rim of her mug and you scoff at her knowing look. You brush your hand through your hair and try your hardest to not let your anxiety creep in about the idea of being on a proper date with Frank Castle.

And so together the two of you spend the afternoon diving through your closet together for something that could fit. It felt similar to a movie montage where the teenage girls toss different colorful fabrics through the air. With a growing pile on the floor of your bedroom, she gasps once you stand in the completed outfit.

“That’s the one!” she says excitedly before tugging you towards the bathroom. “Time for makeup!” She eagerly pats for you to sit on the counter while searching through your, admittedly limited, makeup bag. Doing the best with what she’s got, she gets to work on the eyeshadows and blush, finishing up with a curl of your eyelashes and combing mascara through them. You always loved how focused she got when it was time for something special; her tongue pokes past her lips as she concentrates, her eyes squinting to get the very last detail to sit right.

Once she’s satisfied, she spins you around to see yourself in the mirror and you’re actually surprised at how nice it all came together. You’re wearing an oversized, comfy jumper, tights that line your legs, and a black skirt that accentuates your frame. It’s not too fancy, but the black tights make your outfit more sleek and you silently hope that Frank will like it. As you fluff your hair up to give it some more volume, you thank her behind a wide smile.

A buzz of excitement rushes through you as you wait by the front door and hear the heavy revving from the engine of Frank’s van. You physically shake your arms in an attempt to let go of some of the nerves that built up and your friend gives you a quick hug.

“You got it, baby!” she encourages sweetly. “Have fun!” she calls out as you slip past the door. Making your way down your porch steps, you hear her shout something else from behind you. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckle at her warnings and make your way to the big, black van. You open the door and find Frank sitting with his elbow on his armrest and his head in his palm as he turns to face you. You stand there for a moment and await his initial reaction to your outfit. His eyes widen slightly before they rake over your boy, his lips parting as he takes it all in.

He brushes his thumb along the defined line of his jaw before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. His eyes settle on the small slit of the skirt that rests high on your thigh. There’s a pause for a moment before he finally speaks up.

“Told you you’d find somethin’ cute.” He fixes his posture and gives you a smile as you roll your eyes and sit in the passenger seat. Being with him felt easy now—of course there’s still the butterflies, which you’re expecting to make a permanent home in your stomach any day now, but it’s mostly when you’re about to see him. When you’re actually in his presence, it all fades away and you love how comfortable he makes you feel.

If you had told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d be on a half hour car ride with Frank Castle to the outskirts of town, she probably would’ve brushed it off as some sick joke. But here you are, sitting beside him and watching as he flips through radio stations until he settles on a classic rock song. You enjoyed getting to discover little pieces of him the more time you spent with him.

As he drives under the lamp posts longing the winding roads, you watch as the passing lights illuminate his face before it’s cloaked in shadows of the night once again. Each time you move underneath them, light showcases his features in a warm glow for mere moments at a time. You think your new favorite thing might be when the gleam seeps into the small dip in the bridge of his nose. That small highlight makes you smile and he catches it as he turns to look at you once you’re stopped at a red light.

“What is it?” he questions, his eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you. With a shake of your head, you face back to the light strung up in the air. His gaze doesn’t leave the side of your face though, and you know he’ll want an answer.

“This is just nice,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you for thinking of me,” you add. You want to make sure he knew how happy you were to be doing this, despite your quiet nature due to your fear of somehow screwing this up with your words.

“Haven’t even done anything,” he laughs softly.

“Well, I’m still enjoying myself,” you reply in a gentle tone. Frank doesn’t say anything more as he continues to look at you. The light changes and a green glow washes over your face, queuing him to face the open road once again. You glance down as his hand moves to the gear shift, trying not to focus too long on how the veins in his hand are accentuated as he curls his fingers around the knob.

Frank speaks up again after a moment and you quickly recenter your attention. He engages you in some light conversation and pretty soon you’re laughing along to his comedic storytelling. You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until he’s put the car in park and turns the key off in the ignition. Looking out from behind the glass in front of you, you see the neon lights surrounding the big, bold letters of the name of the bar. It shines brightly in the night sky and acts as a small beacon in the dark parking lot.

You look up at the sound of the driver side door closing and realize Frank has left the car. You reach for your bag that’s resting on the floor between your feet and by the time you move for the handle, he’s opening your door for you. It’s the first time you’re able to truly take him in. He’s wearing a pair of nicely fitting blue jeans and a grey jacket, complete with the black boots you’ve never seen him without. You can’t tell what he’s wearing under the thick material that conceals his chest though, and you find yourself hoping it’s something tighter and hugs his torso.

“You ready?” he asks, and you nod in response. “Alright, watch your step,” he warns and you feel his hand bracing your upper arm as you hop out from the slightly lifted van. Once you’re secure on the ground, the two of you begin making your way towards the entrance. As you pass by the cars parked in organized rows under dim lamplights, you begin to make out the few scattered people smoking and even spot a couple sharing a cigarette just outside the main doors.

Once inside the building, he shrugs off the jacket and you can finally piece together his outfit. Frank’s broad shoulders stretch the fabric of the dark blue button up shirt. It’s tucked into his denim pants and secured with a black belt. He fits the attire of everyone else here in the bar, but still stands over a head taller than the rest—not to mention infinitely more attractive. You try desperately to rip your eyes away from him, and in doing so, take in the scenery of the pub.

The bar is crowded but not so occupied that you can’t move. The loud, overlapping voices meld to create a soft droning that accompanies the background. It doesn’t stand a chance to the band though, whose loud amplifiers cause a shake in your chest with each note they strum. Polished wood lines the walls and there’s photographs of smiling people decorating them, forever cherished behind glass frames. It feels oddly homey, admittedly impressive for a place you’ve never stepped foot into before tonight.

You accidentally bump into Frank and he steadies you with his large hands on your waist. He’s staring down at you with a subtle smile on his face. He begins to talk but you don’t have the slightest clue what he’s saying; the song that’s playing is far too loud to hear the lower tone of his voice. Shaking your head with a frown, you let him know you can’t understand him and his smile grows wider. He then leans down, his fingers brushing your hair away from your ear before he speaks.

“Asked if you wanted to eat,” he starts, his breath immediately warming the side of your neck. With just those few words, it feels like all the other noise falls away. All you can focus on is the rumble in his voice and how the words feel as if they dance down your spine. “I’m starving,” he adds, and you’re certain your new headspace gave his words a different context than he intended.

He pulls away for your response and all you can muster up is a slow blink and a delayed nod. There’s no cocky smirk at your expression and you wonder if maybe he decided to spare you the embarrassment this time. He promptly turns and you fall in line beside him, letting him guide you around the crowd. His palm finds its way to your lower back as he leads you and just like that, your heart picks up in pace once more.

You’ve only seen the same small movement depicted in movies and you can now safely say that experiencing it is so much more exhilarating. Part of you is frustrated that such an insignificant touch can make you this excited, but Frank’s charm has a tremendous effect on you. Still, you tell yourself it’s the anticipation of his hand being elsewhere on your body that riles you up.

His hand stays put until the two of you reach a booth lining the back wall. There’s a small lamp that bathes the whole table in a warm glow and you and Frank place your things down before sliding into the long seats. As you stare at him from across the table, you watch as his eyes scan the crowd and then the main stage as he focuses on the band. They’re currently playing a cover of a classic rock song and Frank smiles as he nods his head to the music.

“This place is nice,” you raise your voice slightly to be heard over the music. He turns to face you and his smile grows wider.

“Yeah? You like it?” His question is accompanied by your own nod and he continues. “I’m sure there’s fancier ones close to town, but I’ve been coming here for years and they’ve always been good.”

He raises his hand in the air, tilting his head up and leaning to the side as if to catch someone’s attention. You follow his line of sight and look over your shoulder to see a woman with a black apron tied around her waist. She looks slightly past you as a grin covers her face and walks over to your table quicker than you expected.

“Frank?! What are you doing here?” Her voice is already grating and she’s only said a handful of words. Her tone is drawn out, almost flirtatiously, and she stands closer to him than you would’ve liked.

“Just showing her around,” he answers simply. He looks at you and when the waitress does the same, her face falls. You muster up an awkward smile and try to shake off the weird look she gives you. “She’s never been here before, you think we could get some menus?”

“Sure thing,” she mumbles, stepping away only to return a moment later with two long, laminated sheets of paper. She drops them to the table and you spare yourself the trouble of looking at her again.

“She sure seems to like you,” you speak up once she’s left. Frank scoffs before grabbing a menu and shaking his head. “Did you see the way she looked at me? What did I do?” You ask with a frown, wondering if you did something unintentionally.

“She’s probably just pissed cause you’re sitting with me and she’s not,” he answers with a sigh. He flips the paper around and you notice the way his eyes dart around the page. His answer wasn’t very reassuring though, and you still feel the tension in your body. As you scan the small print of the menu in your hands, you can feel his gaze on you. You try to shake the disappointment and to make it less obvious that what she said affected you, but you’re not certain how good of an actress you are.

“Y’know what?” he speaks up after a few seconds. You raise your face to him as he continues, “I know this place a couple of blocks down? Best god damn beer I’ve had.” His hand disappears under the table and a moment later you see his fingers curled around his jacket. “It’s German! You haven’t tried that one before.” He leans across the table before whispering, “You’re gonna hate it.”

His attempts at distracting you work well and you can’t help the laughter escaping you at the final thing he said. Frank’s own crooked smile returns at your reaction and a softness settles into his brown eyes.

“There she is,” he mumbles once he sees your regular self bubble back up to the surface. You bring in a deep breath and choose to shake off any residual awkwardness you felt from before.

“No, no it’s okay. We can stay here.” You finish your sentence and look back towards the music before facing him. His hands are empty now as he continues to stare at you and you feel confident in your choice to stay.

After looking over the endless list of drinks, burgers, and other appetizers, you read a description of a sandwich that makes your stomach rumble to life. You immediately decide on it without a second thought and smile up at Frank, watching him run his finger across the page between two options and looking quite indecisive.

Before long, the ill behaved waitress is back to take down your order. You pick your sandwich, remembering to take off the toppings you aren’t too fond of, add in an order of fries, and your usual favorite drink to top it off. With a hesitant glance up, you see her scribbling down your order on the small notepad in her hand. Her expression is twisted up as if she smelled something foul and you feel that uneasy feeling settling in once more.

“I’ll have the same as my date here,” Frank answers before she can ask about his meal. He gently taps the two menus on the tabletop before handing them over to her. His lips part as his eyes drag over your features and you notice the way they stop for a little longer than they should when they reach your mouth.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he said it just to get under her skin or not but part of you didn’t really care. He said it regardless and that made a smile carve its way onto your face. An annoyed scoff is heard from above and you see a hand come into view to snatch the menus away from Frank. He never looked away from you once.

The moment the food arrives, you’re excitedly grabbing your sandwich and lifting it to your mouth. As your teeth sink into the toasted bread, the flavor hits your tongue and a satisfied moan escapes you. Frank is quick to lift his eyes at the sound, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the scene in front of him. You raise your hand to your mouth and begin to grow bashful at the look on his face.

“Sorry!” You apologize, your voice muffled behind your palm. “It was just really good,” you explain once you swallow your food down.

“Don’t gotta apologize for that, kid,” he replies through his own raspy chuckle. You bite your lip and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before reaching for the fries in your basket next.

The two of you dig into your identical meals and make some easy conversation in between bites here and there. You’re honestly impressed with how good the sandwich is and you’re glad you picked it out of the infinite number of items on the menu. Frank wasn’t lying when he said he loved this place. You watch him look up from his meal every now and then with a big smile on his face as he moves his head to the beat of the music. His energy was infectious and you found yourself tapping your toes along too. 

“Y’know,” he speaks up after finishing the last bite of his sandwich. At the sound of his voice, you begin to look up to his face, but your eyes latch on to something else. Frank sucks his fingers clean of the salt from his fries, his lips pursing as his cheeks hollow, and you immediately lose any grip you had on controlling your thoughts around him.

“When we ordered I saw your beer on the menu.” You hear his words but they have absolutely no meaning, no way of stringing them together to make a continuous thought as you watch him suck the seasonings from his thumb. You begin to feel a sense of injustice at the fact that those fingers weren’t where you desperately wanted them to be. With a pout, you look back to his gaze and see the confusion clear in his eyes.

“What?” you blurt out, finally remembering he had spoken and that you hadn’t processed anything he had said. He scoffs before shaking his head, his smirk spreading wide across his face before he speaks again.

“Said they have the beer you like here,” he repeats himself, his cocky grin a clear indicator that he saw how you froze up at sight just moments ago.

“I’m actually good tonight,” you say confidently. Reaching for your glass, you take a sip of your drink and hold his gaze as you stare at him from under your eyelashes. He sits back against the cushion of the booth and his eyebrows pull together as he thinks about what you said.

“Yeah?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you.

“Mhm, not letting a few beers stop me from what I wanna do after this,” you explain. You’ve never felt more frustrated than when he stopped you from kissing on his neck. You understood why he did it, and are actually very thankful he didn’t want it to go further, but the disappointment coursed through you all the same.

“Hmm? And what exactly is that?” he questions as the band finishes up the song they had been playing. Your eyes follow the noise as the crowd erupts into whistles and claps, applauding the musicians. When you finally look back over, Frank’s in the same position. It’s like he never looked away from you—hell, you’re not sure if he even blinked.

You don’t answer him though and make up your mind to keep him on the edge of his seat. Instead, you smile sweetly before picking up a fry from your basket and popping it past your lips. 

He gives you a knowing look, but doesn’t pry. Perhaps he was looking forward to the surprise of it all. You only hope you can remain as confident as you feel now so you can properly act out your plan. Before long, he swallows down his last french fry and Frank speaks up with a question.

“You wanna go dance?” Your whole body freezes at the mere thought of attempting to dance, not to mention the added nerves of doing it in a crowded room with Frank Castle standing witness. But as you look out onto the dance floor full of moving bodies, you realize most of them are probably far too intoxicated to really pay attention to you. Deciding to push past the initial fear, and wanting to be fully present with him and have fun, you nod and scoot out of the booth.

Frank stands in front of you and his hand soon comes into view of your eyeline. You place your hand in his and feel his fingers curl around your palm as you brace your weight on him and rise to your feet. You stand on your toes and motion for him to come closer so you can speak into his ear.

“Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer,” you say after he’s tilted his head towards you.

“What part of me screams that I’m a good one?” he asks, and you chuckle at his joke. He smiles down at your laughter and nods his head behind him, letting you know he’s going to the dancefloor.

Frank keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you through the crowd. His broad body splits the sea of bodies as he walks and you follow close enough behind him to squeeze past them as well. There’s blue hues from the dim lights that shine over the people, but other than that you can’t see much beside their moving feet. He must’ve gotten to a clearing where there’s not as many people bumping into one another, because he stops walking and turns to you.

You’re sort of frozen still for a moment as the reality of it is beginning to creep in. But then Frank starts to shimmy his shoulders and you can’t help but break into a wide grin. Just like that, you’re thawed. The awkwardness you felt is starting to leave you as you begin to loosen up in front of him.

The band plays a fun, upbeat song that you don’t recognize, but he seems to be making the moves up as he goes along. You follow his direction, copying him but still keep some distance, trying to slowly shake off those nerves that are still lingering around. Suddenly, Frank does a move that you can’t even begin to describe with words alone and you burst into laughter as you watch him. Holding your stomach, you shake your head at him and he begins to laugh too. 

The band then retires from the stage, saying their farewells as the crowd applauds and whistles. Frank claps along with the rest of them and you cup your hands around your mouth to give a small cheer. You really enjoyed their set and wouldn’t mind coming back here again to watch them play once more.

Once the stage is clear, music begins to play over the speakers and Frank’s face lights up. His excitement is clear after just the first few notes.

“God, this takes me back,” his wide grin causes his eyes to squint up. You smile up at him, happy at his enjoyment, but you can’t help your head from tilting to the side confusedly.

“You haven’t heard this before?” he asks incredulously and you shake your head. “It’s literally my favorite song, how do you not know this?”

“When did it come out?” you ask, and watch him look up as he starts to think.

“Must’ve been… right after graduation, I think?” He does the math for a moment longer before answering with the year it was released. The answer has you fighting back a giggle as you stare at him awkwardly.

“Frank, I wasn’t born until two years later,” you answer honestly, and the look on his face is priceless.

“Jesus Christ…” he replies, dragging his hand down his face. You begin to worry now, wondering if you shouldn’t have brought up that point. He must’ve caught a glance at your anxious frown because he’s quick to explain himself.

“You’re fine just… my back hurt when you said that.” His hand comes to the back of his neck to emphasize his point and your smile finds its way back to your lips.

Despite the initial embarrassment you ran into after being reminded again of the gap in age between you and Frank, you found yourself really enjoying the song. He was honest when he said it was one of his favorites. You’ve never seen him this lively before and you love being able to soak up every minute of it. He’s so animated as he dances, holding you close to him with his hand secured at your back. The lines to the song fall past his lips like muscle memory as his forehead presses to yours.

You can’t stand being this close to him. Your whole body feels like it’s been shot with a current of electricity and you’re desperately wanting him to stop singing and put his mouth to yours. He might have a sixth sense—or simply just picked up on the timing—because his lips are on yours a second later. He kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing your lower lip for a moment before you eagerly let him in. Your head tilts to the side as you kiss him back and your arm wraps around his wide shoulders to ensure you’ll have your fill.

All too soon he’s breaking the kiss and you immediately suck your bottom lip behind your teeth to savor the feeling of him. He suddenly lifts his arm into the air and cues you to spin. You twirl under his hand with a huge grin and then he yanks you in for the finish, timing it so that your back is to his chest when you land against him. His same palm immediately finds your hip and tightens to keep you flush to him. His opposite hand travels down the length of your torso, his index finger tracing your side as he moves.

He begins to whisper the lyrics against your ear and you can’t bring yourself to focus on their meaning. He’s all over you and it’s making you feel dizzy, as if you’re drunk on his scent alone. Each pass of his finger along your ribs alights a fire at your side and you try to keep up as he begins rocking you from side to side to the rhythm of the song. His breath warms the entire side of your face and neck with each word he whispers. You fall under his spell and roll your head to the side at the feeling of his warmth all over.

When the song starts to fade and a new one begins overlapping it, you’re left with a bittersweet feeling; part of you never wanted to leave that moment and would gladly listen to that song on loop for the rest of your life, but the other half of you was almost frightened at how easily you turned to putty in his hands. You felt the need to have a better grasp on yourself, especially if you wanted to stay courageous for what you had planned for tonight.

The mix of two songs smoothen down into one and you instantly recognize the slow, sexy bassline that’s pumping through the speakers overhead. You’re not sure what came over you. Perhaps you wanted to prove to someone that you’re not that same timid, little girl. Whatever it was that coursed through your veins, you’re thankful that it gave you the strength to grab his large palm and put it back into place at your hip. You use the extra support to push your ass back into him, making sure to press hard enough until you feel the bulge in his jeans.

Frank doesn’t show any reaction except for his fingers tightening into your skin as if you were a lifeline. You smile as you continue to grind into him, your hips following the similar movements he taught you just a few days prior. Facing away from him gives you the extra boost of confidence needed to perform this act, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t kill to see the look on his face right now.

With each push of your ass against the denim fabric, you feel the heat of his bulge so close to where your own warmth had started to pool. This felt good and you felt pride surging through your chest once you realized exactly what you were doing.

And then his arm crosses your chest and pulls you flat against him once more. His forearm is pressed against your collarbones and you feel your breath hitch at the hold he has you in. With a shaky inhale, you swallow down the lump in your throat and wait for him to speak.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” the tip of his nose brushes the curve of your ear and you try your damndest to not let your body double over. “Someone’s getting confident, huh?” His arm begins to slowly drop from across your chest, and instead reaches your lower stomach. From there, he applies pressure until you’re as close as you could be to him.

“You feel that? Hmm?” There’s an undeniable hardness under the thick layers of fabric. It doesn't feel as big as the last time he got turned on from you, but it’s still noticeable. “That’s all you,” he finishes with a lower tone of voice before taking half a step back and leaving you to sit with his words.

It takes you a moment to wrap your head around this entire situation. It’s abundantly clear that the mood has changed from light laughter and awful dance moves to something more sultry. You can feel the warmth slowly spreading between your legs and it leaves you with a buzz that makes you feel like your movements are slowed. When you turn around to finally face him, he’s already staring down at you expectedly.

“Why don’t we get outta here?” he asks, deep voice blending in with the booming bass. You nod at him and it feels like you’re moving in molasses. The dull, blue light from above catches his face for a moment. There’s something deeper to his unreadable expression; his jaw is clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back.

Once the two of you make it back to the table, Frank reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. He thumbs through the notes before tossing a few bills onto the table. He reaches into the booth seat for his jacket and shakes it out before draping it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you mumble in a quiet voice.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, insisting that your gratitude isn’t needed. He begins to walk towards the door with his hand in its designated spot at your lower back to help guide you once again. The chill of the night air hits you the second you step out of the building and you find yourself curling his jacket snugger around your body. His scent is stuck to the collar and it helps lessen your shivering from the cold breeze.

He walks you to your side of the van and opens the door for you to climb in. Even after he gets in and begins driving down the same winding roads, there’s not much conversation between the two of you. The tension in the car is thick and incredibly palpable. You’re indecisive about whether to break the silence or leave it untouched so as to not make it worse.

Eventually Frank pulls into his parking spot that faces the front door of his apartment. After putting the van in park and walking around to open your door once more, you take his hand and carefully step down. He unlocks the door and gets you inside quickly, trying to shield you from the chilly air. Once he flicks the lights on, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of his living room and feel that desire to touch him creep back in. Your name falls from his lips and you turn your head at the sound.

“I’m sorry if I went too far back there. I shouldn’t have—,” he begins to apologize, but you’re quick to interrupt by pressing your lips to his. A surprised grunt comes from him and you smirk into the kiss, pleased to have caught him off guard. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and begins leading you towards the couch. When you feel the back of your knees hit the curve of the cushion, you angle yourself in front of Frank and push him into the sofa below.

He looks up at you with his lips parted and his chest is noticeably bringing in deeper breaths each time he inhales. His usually soft, brown eyes have a darkened glint to them and you’re certain you’ve never seen this emotion on him before. Your pulse is racing through your own body and you swiftly straddle him with your knees on either side of his hips.

His impatient fingers grab hold of you in a way no one ever has before. The action causes a surprised gasp to fall past your lips, but it’s swallowed down by Frank who can’t seem to keep his mouth off of yours. The light stubble decorating his jaw scratches at your skin and the rough feeling does nothing but spur you on further. You begin to roll your hips into his as you fall into a familiar pattern and he uses his hold to help guide you into moving faster.

His movements are rushed and needy and it makes you feel reassured that he wants this—he wants you. That little boost to your ego has your hands tracing down his body, your palms rubbing down his strong chest, before finally reaching his belt. Your fingers search blindly for the leather and the sound of the buckle clinking sounds out in between the wet noises of your kisses.

“Woah, easy,” Frank breaks the kiss the second the sound reaches his ears. “Let’s just, uh…” he trails off and you feel his fingers gently prying yours away. “Let’s take it slow, alright?” His tone is so soft and the concern is written clearly across his features.

“Frank, please,” you try to reason with him. “I didn’t even drink tonight! And I just… last time I was all worked up and I really want to do this.” You finish with a pout as you glance up at him with pleading eyes. He swallows hard as he stares at you for a moment, probably battling something internally.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks slowly, trying to make his words clear. The question is so simple but admitting it to him makes you feel small again.

“I… I want to touch you,” you mumble, silently hoping he doesn’t ask you to be more explicit than that.

“You sure you want this?” His eyes never leave yours as he confirms your consent.

“I really do,” you reply, bringing your hand up and cupping his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin and watch as he begins to shut his eyes and breathe deeply. “Please?”

You’re not sure if it’s the quiet plea, his own craving that’s swaying his decision, or some combination of the two, but he slowly uncurls his fingers from your wrist. You beam brightly at him and whisper a thanks as you peck him on the cheek.

“You’re still gonna have to walk me through it, Frank,” you say through a small chuckle.

He nods with an equally quiet, “I know.”

From there, he doesn’t try to deter your movements any longer. He lets you continue as you slide his belt past the metal buckle. You look up at him for reassurance and he nods his head with a smile. He takes your hand in his and pulls it to his bulge, letting you feel it properly for the first time. Excitement races through you and settles in your lower stomach as you watch your hand touch him over the denim.

“Can I take your jeans off?” Your question is met with another nod as he lets go of you. Slipping the button past the slit, you then lower the zipper past the teeth and the sound feels so loud in the otherwise silent room. You move to sit beside him and Frank helps you tug his pants down, raising his hips to lower them some more until they fall past his knees. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey boxer briefs and your eyes linger far too long on how they hug his thighs.

The thick outline stretching the fabric is enough to recenter your attention though. You start to feel the nerves coming back once you register just how big he is as he lies against his hip. You always had a feeling, given the sheer size of the man, but seeing it is a whole other experience. Thankfully, Frank doesn’t rush you as he lets you take this all in. You hesitantly move your hand over the length of him, brushing your fingers over the defined line underneath the head of his cock.

The next thing you reach for is the waistband of his boxers. You curl your fingers over the edge and tug them down, watching as more and more of his happy trail becomes exposed. He once again helps you pull them past his legs and now that he’s bare in front of you, you can’t help your eyes from widening. You had thought the bulge was big, but it was misleading; Frank is actually much larger than you had anticipated.

“What? You’ve never seen—?” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I have. I’ve seen, like, porn before but…” you find your voice leaving you as you stare between his legs. “It’s just bigger in person.” His chuckle sounds out and you raise your head to the noise only to be met by an amused smirk at your confession.

“S’not just cause it’s in person, kid,” he laughs through his words and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. You like that you can still crack jokes during a time like this and you find yourself thankful that you get to have Frank as your first introduction to sex. Feeling more relaxed, you reach forward and gently curl your fingers around his thick base.

“You can hold it tighter than that,” he speaks up after a second.

“I know,” you respond, tightening your hold on him a little more. He snorts lightly at the, apparently, subtle increase in pressure and you feel his larger hand curling around your own. His long fingers squeeze over yours, adjusting your grip on his length as he begins to move your hand up and down. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, two things you hadn’t given much thought of before now. Frank lifts your hand once more and a satisfied sigh leaves him.

The sound stirs something in your stomach and you try to swallow down your own growing arousal at the noise he’s making. He loosens his hold on you and you watch as his hands find the hem of his shirt before bunching it up and exposing the lower half of his stomach. There’s so much to look at and it’s pulling your attention in too many ways. You try to focus on him in your hand though and begin speeding up your movements.

“You can spit on it,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You turn to face him and feel your eyebrows pull together at his words.

“Like just… spit on it?” The confusion is more than likely obvious in your tone but you want to ensure that you don’t embarrass yourself with him. Not now when you’ve made it this far.

“Yeah, go for it,” he encourages gently. With one last glance at him, you lean forward and lower your head over his length. You purse your lips and part them as you let the split slowly drip until it’s sliding over his head. You watch as it runs down past the tip and Frank clears his throat.

“Shit, yeah that…” he trails off as he raises his hips slightly. “That works too.” You smile at his words and wonder if his movement was an instinctual reaction to the warmth running along the smooth skin of his cock.

With the help of the extra slick added to his length, you begin to work your hand faster on him. You know from what you’ve heard that the tip is more sensitive, so you raise your hand right underneath his head and tighten your grip. A grunt immediately falls from him and you impulsively let go of him. You face him with a worried expression and watch as he brings in a deep breath before swallowing thickly.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just felt real damn good.” The praise in his words immediately rushes to your heart and you feel yourself swell with pride. You can’t believe you made him feel that good, but now you’re determined to see what other sounds you can pull from his pretty lips. As you focus your attention back to his cock, you see a few beads of precum beginning to bubble up at his swollen tip. You rub your thumb in circles over the slit, spreading around the proof of his pleasure, and you feel him twitch in your hold.

“Shiiiiiit,” the drawn out curse sounds raspy and you don’t stop your movements as you check once again to see his reaction. Frank’s head is tilted back slightly against the couch cushion, his mouth is parted, and his eyes are scrunched up slightly. You try your hardest to memorize this version of him. You wish you could ingrain this memory so you’ll never forget how good he looks when he’s succumbing to his pleasure.

Twisting your hand as you move it over his length, you notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows down presumably another groan. You can’t resist the urge to feel even more of him, and press your lips against his neck. Lazy kisses are littered across his skin while you work your hand faster, intermittently tightening your hold on his thickness. His throat tightens as he feels the wet marks of your affection, and the next thing you feel is his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls gently as he tugs your head up to his and he kisses down your surprised gasp, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You’re having trouble keeping up with his movements and you realize this must be what it’s like to be kissed breathlessly. Any moment you get, you’re greedily gulping down air before he continues his ravenous attack on your lips. You never slow the speed of your hand and press yourself against his side, trying to feel more of him to satiate your need. Frank tries to break the kiss but you push against him harder, not wanting to let go for a second. But he tries again, grabbing your wrist gently and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“What did I do?” you ask in a worried tone. He’s quick to lock his eyes with yours and speaks clearly.

“You’re okay. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he starts, and then nods down towards his lap. “I’m almost there, kid. Just wanted to warn you before it happens.” And just like that, a wide grin splits across your face. I’m making him feel that good?!

“I really wanna make you come, Frank,” you tell him honestly and you notice his cock twitch slightly as he registers your words.

“You keep talking like that and you will,” he grumbles in a low voice. His tone almost seems as if it was meant as a warning, but all it does is add to the fire in the pit of your stomach. You’re quick to reach for him again and fall back into the rhythm you established just seconds ago. With each pass of your hand you feel the veins protruding slightly through his skin and make sure to add slightly more pressure to the ring underneath his tip—he seemed to like that in particular.

“Just like that—fuck, attagirl,” he breathes through gritted teeth while he stares down at your smaller fingers wrapped snugly around him. The praise courses through you and you hide your face in his neck. You place sloppy kisses under his jaw and listen as more grunts start to fall from his parted lips. They slowly twist into a new sound and it takes you a second to realize it’s your name that’s coming out in a twisted groan. You glance down and watch as he raises his hips for a moment to chase after the feeling of you, his orgasm following soon after.

One long moan falls from him as warmth spills over your hands. You make sure not to miss a single second and don’t dare slow down or pull away. You want Frank to feel as good as possible and so you’ll drag this out for as long as you can. White begins to coat his head and the rest of his length as you continue moving over him. It isn’t until he reaches for your wrist that you take notice of the way his thigh is tense and you let go to give him some relief.

“T…That’s enough,” he pants as he speaks through uneven breathing. You mumble an apology as you snuggle into his side again, leaving the remainder of your kisses on his collarbone. His hand rubs at your back while he regains his breath and you feel him press his lips to your forehead. 

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you follow his gaze to the mess in his lap. His cock lies on his hip, all spent and giving a weak twitch once or twice. You don’t even try to hide the smile that grows on your face at the sight.

“Oh, you proud of yourself, huh?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. “You should be,” he holds you to his side again. “Did so fuckin’ good.” You feel another long kiss to the side of your head. Pride isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel at this moment.

“Thank you, Frank,” you smile up at him.

“Thank me? Nah, you did all that,” he brushes it off just like last time. “Thank you for making me feel good, kid. You were absolutely perfect.” The warmth spreading to your cheeks makes you hide your face in his chest again. You weren’t really sure how a scene like this was supposed to normally end, but Frank doesn’t say anything more. He keeps you close in his arms and you can still hear his pulse attempting to slow in his chest. For now, you don’t want to question what comes next; for once, you’re comfortable exactly where you are.

Taglist: @chellestrash @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl @xxdrixx @yaminax @nabiiturner @imwaytoolazyforthis @vechkinfan @himesuedi @0-goblin-0 @soleilcastle @innebulae @punishersmainchick @eddiemunsonsbelover @tea-drinking-nerd

[jaeyums]

Just One More (Part 11)

Pairings - Fratboy!Haechan x reader (lowkey x dreamies)

Word Count - 3k

Content Warning - smut (obvi), angst, slight corruption kink, dacryphilia, oral (f receiving). fingering, drinking, loss of virginity, Fratboy! Haechan (kinda), Toxic!Haechan, mentions of drowning (what??) pls Imk if I missed anything

Summary - You curse your new neighbours for partying what feels like every night, the booming bass making it impossible to sleep. Fed up, you finally ask them to turn it down, but when you're forced to make a seemingly harmless deal, things spiral faster than you ever could've imagined.

A/N - part two yippeee :3 sorry it was so late loll

previous | next

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You slowly open your eyes, immediately closing them again in pain as your head throbs.

“Holy fuck.”

Is all you’re able to say, as you try again to open your eyes, your vision slightly blurry. You reach for where your water bottle sits on your nightstand, only to find an empty space.

You continue to feel around the nightstand only for your eyes to fully adjust, and for you to realize this night stand is black rather than the off white colour you’re used to.

This shock wakes you up fully in a matter of seconds, and you look around an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed.

“Holy fuck.”

You repeat, the reality of your situation setting in. After a moment of processing, you quickly toss away to sheets, and sigh in relief as you see that all your clothes from the previous night are still on.

You check the other side of the bed hesitantly, patting on a puffy part of the blanket, only for it to sink down upon your touch.

Saying a small thank you to the universe, you climb out of the bed, and walk towards the door. You wrap your hands around the handle and push.

It doesn’t budge.

You twist and push again, still nothing. You try again with your whole body weight pressing against the door, only to here a groan come from the other side.

“Fuck, give me a second, would ya.”

A grumpy voice can be heard through the door.

“Haechan?”

You ask tentatively. Opening the door with ease after hearing a body shuffle out of the way.

“In the flesh.”

He says leaning against the other side of the hallway.

“Why did you sleep outside?”

“I knew you’d end up in my bed eventually , but I excepted me to be joining you. So I think the better question is why did you sleep inside, inside my room. ”

You tilt your head, that is a good question actually. You try to think back to last night, only for the sinking realization that you can’t remember much past the game of truth or dare.

“Oh god, what happened last night.”

Your voice slightly panicked. So many different scenarios start flipping through your head, like a disturbing film reel.

He just laughs looking entertained and surprisingly handsome for someone who slept on the floor all night.

“Does this mean you don’t remember our deal? Tsk tsk, I’m disappointed. No worries though, I remember the deal, so it’s no issue.”

“You made a deal with me while I was blacked out? You totally took advantage of me.”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

“If I actually wanted to take advantage of you, I could’ve. You were a mess.”

His words sting, a darkness in his eyes almost consuming you. Though, when he sees your face drop even more, he sighs, rolling his eyes in annoyance and starts to explain.

“Not that long after truth or dare you locked yourself in here and told me to guard the door ‘with my life’.”

Now you look more confused than upset.

“Why would I do that?”

You wonder aloud.

“If I had to guess, it might’ve been from the fact that everyone here wanted to talk to you. Jaemin, Jeno, Chenle, Mark. You won’t alone for more than a second before someone wanted to steal you away.”

Something hangs between the lines as he speaks, a negative emotion your hungover state can’t place it’s finger on.

“Okay��so what was the deal?”

You’re almost scared to ask.

“That you’ll come to my next party.”

He smiles widely, he finds himself hilarious.

“Are you serious.”

“Dead, but the next one isn’t here, it’s at my parents’ house. They’re gone for the weekend and the pool there is sick.”

“A pool party?”

He nods, pushing himself off the wall to move closer to you.

“Now how about you scamper on home. You’ve had a long night.”

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

The next day while on facetime with your friend, you decide to tell her about the party. She’s half listening while doing her makeup, but when you mention Haechan she freezes.

“Wait did you say Haechan? Like Lee Haechan? Tall? Black hair? Sarcastic? Sexy?”

“Uh yeah? Why?”

You ask confused, but by the expression on her face, your know whatever your friend is about to say is bad news.

“Y/n he is a known fuckboy. Like he’s in a frat for godsake. You need to be careful around him, I’m serious.”

You roll your eyes annoyed.

He’s Mr. pump and dump, smash and dash, ejaculate and evacu-“

“okay okay I get it, thank you,”

You cut her off, getting the message loud and clear.

“I wasn’t planning on getting with him, don’t worry. He couldn’t get close even if he tried.”

“Didn’t you just say you blacked out and slept in his bed.”

“Okay shut up, it won’t happen again.”

She nods, looking unconvinced. You two continue to chat until you get another call, this time from an unsaved number.

“Wait I’m getting a call, gimme a sec.”

You answer the call bringing your phone to your ear.

“Hello? This is y/n right?”

“Uh yes, speaking?”

“It’s me, don’t get too excited.”

You sigh, his familiar voice teasingly heard through the phone.

“How did you get my number, Haechan.”

“You gave it to me when you were drunk.”

“No I didn’t.”

There’s a long pause.

“…I got it off Jisung’s phone.”

That definitely makes more sense, you know you were black out, but there was no chance you would have given Haechan your number.

“I’m just calling to make sure you’re still coming to the party tonight? I’m already at the place getting stuff ready, it’s gonna be lit.”

“Do I have to go?”

You whine, hoping he’ll take some sympathy on you from how tired you sound.

“Yup! See you then.”

You hear a long tone, signalling he’s hung up. Fine, you’ll go to his pool party, but he never said anything about actually swimming. You do enough of that at work anyways.

Calling back your friend, you quickly update her on who called and what he said. She gave you a worried look, warning you again to be careful.

With the closet doors swung open, you start shifting through your clothes trying to pick an outfit. You get an idea, turning back to your phone.

“Wait, why don’t you just come with me? That way you can keep an eye on this whole Haechan thing and we can have fun for once.”

“Can’t I have an opening shift tomorrow.”

You groan in response, turning back to your closet in defeat.

“Whatever I didn’t even want you to go anyways.”

You tease.

The two of you continue to joke around, her giving you advice on what to wear and you modelling your options.

You end up settling on short denim shorts, paired with a white baby tee. With everything said and done, you tell her good bye before grabbing your keys and heading out to the party

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

The house is bigger than you ever would’ve imagined and it is jumping. This party was massive, especially compared to his previous party. People had gathered all over the property, some on the front lawn, some on a balcony up above you head.

You shift your weight between your feet, suddenly feeling nervous. Once again you feel the need to find Haechan, rationalizing your thoughts by saying it’s only to ensure he knows you held up your side of the deal. You were an hour late so he’s probably wondering where you are, right?

You’re barely two steps into the house when you hear someone call your name.

“Y/n! Get your ass over here, love.”

Jeno stands next to Chenle and Mark, the three of them already holding red solo cups.

“Go grab a drink.”

Jeno gestures with his head towards where the kitchen must be located. You shake your head with an awkward smile.

“I can’t drink, and I’m serious this time. I drove here.”

The boys look a little disappointed but nod in understanding. They continue to talk amongst each other, but you can’t listen, your eyes scanning the crowd nonstop.

Mark interrupts your search with a smirk.

“Looking for someone special?”

He teases, but you can tell he already knows who your dying to see.

“He’s outside, near the pool.”

With that you say goodbye, telling them you’ll be back in a bit, and head off towards the backyard.

The music is just as loud outside as it is inside, your ears still not fully adjusted. The pool itself is quite big as well, although there are very few people actually swimming. Most of them just sitting along the edge talking, only dipping there feet in.

The familiar smell of chlorine tickles your nose and you do a quick scan of the pool, simply out of habit when you notice a boy bobbing a bit in what you assume to be the deep end.

“Oh god please don’t actually be drowning.”

You whisper to yourself, your eyes still locked onto him, he was clearly struggling but you were having a hard time figuring out if it was just a prank or if he was really sinking.

Suddenly his head dips bellow the surface and doesn’t return, and you spring into action, running to the edge closest to him and diving in.

Under the water you can see him, still struggling, but his eyes slowly closing. You hook your arms around his, securing him in your grasp, and pinching his nose with your other hand. You kick back to the surface, your lungs starting to burn.

Returning to the surface, you see a couple boys waiting at the edge, you shout instructions to them as you tow the boy in their direction.

Ordering them on how to lift him out, you plunge back into the water, sitting the boy on your shoulder. You tap the deck three times, signalling to the boys to pull him up, and you push him upwards as hard as you can.

They drag him away from the pool and you climb out quickly, following them. You’re fully locked in, having done this a hundred times.

Sitting next to him as he coughs, you run through your typical checklist. He turns out to be relatively fine, just a stupid victim of drinking and swimming, something that should never mix.

As you continue to talk to him, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see Haechan staring at you with such intensity you almost flinch.

“I saw everything, are you okay?”

“Of course, I mean it’s always a little scary but I’m fine. I’m more worried about him.”

“He’s fine, just an idiot. Here, let’s get you dried off.”

You now remember that you’re not actually wearing your guarding uniform. Looking down, you realize your white shirt has become completely see through, sticking to your body, your red bra on full display.

“Yeah okay, thank you.”

With that he grabs your hand and leads you through the party to his bedroom upstairs, weaving between people in crowded places.

“This is my room, head inside. I’ll be right back.”

You open the door hesitantly, turning back for his reassurance, but he has already disappeared. You walk inside to see his room is surprisingly neat. It’s pretty big too, with posters lining his walls, he even has a balcony that overlooks the backyard.

You notice a mirror attached to his closet and walk over to see how much of a mess you look right now. Your mascara is ruined, running down your face like you just watched the saddest movie ever. You hair is soaked, it looks almost intentionally slicked back, except for a stray strand or two.

While fussing with it, you hear the door open, but you pay Haechan no mind as he enters, closing the door behind him. You’re much too occupied fixing your hair.

He comes behind you, brining his head next to yours, staring at your reflection with darkened eyes.

“You look so pretty.”

He whispers, bringing his hand around the opposite side of your head to smudge some of the black staining your cheeks.

“What I wouldn’t give to make your mascara run like this”.

You feel your face heat up, your stomach doing a flip from to his words and touch. You swat his hand away, turning your face.

“Shut up, Haechan.”

He just smirks, and hands you a folded towel. You hastily take it and walk over to his connected bathroom. You lock the door behind you and undress.

The shower itself is heavenly. The water on your skin had became cold, so the heat of the water pouring down felt amazing. You wash your hair and do your best to rid your face of the racoonish look it’s taken.

You finally finish, wrapping the towel just below your shoulders once you’re dry. You reach for your clothes before realizing they’re still soaked. It had completely slipped your mind that you’d need new clothes.

You tentatively open the door, peaking your head around the room. You see Haechan laying on his bed, scrolling on his phone absentmindedly. You call out to him, and he looks up, his eyes instantly devouring you.

“I uh, could I borrow some clothes? Mine are still wet.”

He doesn’t move for a moment, still taking you in. Finally, he gets up, and walks over to his closet.

“Lemme see what I have, I might have some old sweatpants that might fit.”

He ends up picking black sweat pants and a matching black long sleeve, tossing both to you. You catch them with one hand, not daring to let go of the towel.

Slipping back into the bathroom, you quickly change. You check out your new outfit in the bathroom mirror. Both items are way too big for you. Even though the shirt is massive it somehow still hugs the curves of your breasts. You don’t love the fact that you have nothing on underneath Haechans clothes.

You step back into his room where he’s waiting for you.

“How do the pants fit?”

You pull up the shirt slightly with one hand, and pull up the sweats with the other, before dropping them, demonstrating how they drop down landing just below your hip bones.

“What do you think?”

You ask sarcastically. He let’s out a little laugh at your demonstration, stepping closer.

“Here let me help.”

He grabs the waist of the pants, rolling them up once then twice. His fingers ghosting your bare waist in the process. When he finishes, his hands still remain. You can’t help but hyper focus on his touch, on how his warm hands feel on your skin.

Tension fills the air. You look up at him, meeting his gaze. There’s another pause, and you can’t take it anymore.

“Kiss me already.”

You whisper, it’s barely audible, you would’ve wondered if he had even heard you if he hadn’t already dipped down, meeting your lips with his.

His grip on your waist tightens as he pushes you against the wall, his leg moving to find home between yours.

Your mouths move together unison, you feel yourself falling deeper in his trance. Though, there’s still a small whisper in your head, reminding you of your friends words, her warning.

Before you can pay attention to it, Haechan starts to push your body down on his thigh, guiding you to grind slowly against it. His kisses moving to your neck, causing you to tilt your head back on the wall in pleasure.

A hand snakes up your waist to rest on your breast, his thumb running over your bud delicately. A small moan escapes your lips, and you swear you can feel him smile against the skin of your neck.

He continues to attack your neck, his hand squeezing and massaging your breast rhythmically.

You pull his head back up by his chin to kiss him, your lips were feeling lonely.

He picks you up, and your legs wrap instinctually around his waist. He carries you to his bed, laying you down gently.

His arms resting on either side of your head, he looks down on you like you’re a feast for kings and he is starving.

He gives you quick but deep kiss, before moving down your body. His hand moves to the waist of your sweatpants, but you grab it before he can slide them down your legs.

“Haechan.”

You say breathlessly, staring down at him with puppy-like eyes.

“Yes, y/n?”

“I..I don’t want to move too fast.”

He looks up at you, a smirk slowly growing on his face. Your innocence is so cute to him.

“Don’t worry princess, you don’t have to move at all. I’ll do all the work.”

He teases, but he still doesn’t move, waiting for your approval to continue.

You bite your lip. Your friend’s warning ringing through your head again.

Fuck it, just one more night with Haechan can’t hurt.

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tags : @snflwrhaerecs4u @ki-aechan @loveforred @whiplashhhh @miniminkis @milimo07 @neocityhoe @90s-belladonna @toroufriteh @renjunniex @chimiwimi @cas104 @dongsookie0606

[alana-reid-2005]

spencer reid x reader ౨ৎ you’ve been reassigned indefinitely to the bau’s nyc office; spencer helps you pack for the move

p.s. did i write this to cope with the fact that i’m moving 30 minutes away from home for college? you know me too well.

Five hours isn’t that long of a drive. If you could somehow convince Erin Strauss to let you borrow the BAU’s plane, the journey would be cut to a mere hour and a half. You don’t know if this move will be permanent, but you try to forget about that for now and focus on packing. You stuff your winter coat into your already full suitcase. You’re about ready to sit on top of your suitcase to attempt to close it. October’s just around the corner, and New York gets chilly with a capital “C,” even more so than Quantico.

It’ll be your first Halloween away from Spencer in seven years, you think morosely. Spencer knows how to celebrate the spooky season. Halloween is his Christmas as evidenced by the multiple excursions to the local pumpkin patch and trips to various haunted houses he takes you on each year. And that’s not to mention how he invites you over on the thirty-first to witness him spooking the kids in his apartment building with his various monster or ghoul costumes before treating them to king size candy bars.

You’re gonna miss that more than you’d like to admit.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as Spencer stumbles in, carrying a box full of knick knacks he’s making you choose from after reasoning with you that, “Seasonal depression is very real, and making your house a home is one small way to remedy the feelings of loneliness.”

He bumps his hip hard into your closet doorknob on his way over to you but barely seems to register it.

“Careful hon-“

“Hey, did you know that the subway system is actually way better than people make it out to be?” He sets down the box with a little huff before continuing, his hands immediately going up to make gestures as he speaks. “According to a New York Times analysis I saw this morning, there’s only about one violent crime per one million rides. And that rate is only going down as ridership increases, so I think it’s your safest bet for getting around the city, all things considered.”

You smile up at him. Here’s another thing you’re gonna miss. You’d drop all your life’s responsibilities if it meant you could hear him explain the world to you all day long.

He kneels beside you where you’re bent over your suitcase. “Anyway, I brought you some holiday decor! Pick as many as you can fit in your luggage. I’ll mail you the rest.”

He’s not quite smiling, but you can sense the joy radiating from him like steam from a thermal geyser.

“It’s barely September, Spence.” You try not to let your voice break. You just can’t muster his level of enthusiasm when you know you’ll be leaving him soon. Too soon.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He must’ve noticed you were off earlier today. Mercifully, he hadn’t mentioned it sooner, or you would’ve been bawling like a baby at eight in the morning. More than often, you feel this is the curse of your chosen profession: to always know how you and those around you feel but never how to help them or yourself.

“Please don’t cry, angel.” His arms are around you in an instant, easing your chin to his shoulder. He slides his hands down to rub your back, applying just the right amount of pressure to coax your body to melt into his.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise.” He tilts back, arms tightening around your mid back until you’re almost in his lap. Physical touch is by far not on the top of his list of love languages, but he needs you to know how much he’s gonna miss you.

“I’m sorry,” you sob.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “I’m driving up to see you every weekend. And you’re flying in for Thanksgiving. I think Garcia said she’d host this year.”

“Aw, Penelope always does the best job,” you sniffle, unable to help the grin that breaks over your face.

Spencer pulls back, beaming just as bright. Once your expression softens, he pulls you in for a kiss, painfully saccharine in its tenderness.

You’re gonna miss his coffee breath most of all.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hiya! Hope you’re havin a good day! Adore your writing, so mayhaps I can make a humble request of ye?

I was thinking, top hero x bottom villain where the villain is big n kinda scary — they’re silent, cold, intimidating, all that jazz — but then the hero accidentally does something intimate (like, maybe they kiss them, or the two get in a ✨ scandalous position ✨) and they’re a bit worried about how the other is gonna react. Then it’s revealed the “big bad” villain is just a shy, sweet, needy little thing, who begs them to finish what they started >////< Cue the hero taking full advantage, hehe ;)

Generous helping of da spicy, thank you! ^^

“I’m supposed to be married tonight.”

“Oh?” The hero grabbed the villain’s hand and turned it around as they studied the golden ring. “I wasn’t invited to the wedding? What a shame.”

Although their voice was drenched in fake annoyance, they grinned mercilessly at the villain. The villain who was all dressed up, basically embed in filthy rich clothes. The villain who was as observant as ever.

The villain who’d probably get their hands dirty later.

Although the hero was fully aware that their nemesis was stalking their prey before they bit down into bone, it was probably better for everyone involved if the villain spent more time with their nemesis.

The hero had always considered it a curse. The villain took what they wanted and they always prioritised their own plans. They were, in some sense, the most hard-working person the hero knew.

“You know there was no wedding,” the villain said, lowering their voice. “Nonetheless, you should keep your distance.”

“Why on earth would you think that I am going to sabotage your marriage?” The hero took another step closer and let their fingertips ghost over the villain’s wrists. Their eyes were fixed on the ring.

Admittedly, they felt some kind of possessiveness deep in their stomach.

True love was something they couldn’t afford and they caught themselves being jealous of married couples quite often.

Nevertheless, they pulled themselves out of that thought spiral and flashed a grin at the villain.

“I’m not married,” the villain hissed. Their ears were red. How adorable.

“You just told me you are.”

“Fucking—” The villain took in a deep breath and grabbed the hero’s arm. Without giving themselves a second chance to think about it, they pulled the hero away from all the people who were already staring at them. They managed to find some quiet and dark corner, far away from the crowd at the exhibition. “—you know that’s part of my plan.”

“Oh, so you got married for a plan?” Was the hero playing with fire? Undoubtedly. Did they like the thrill of it? Of course they did.

The exhibition was something the hero attended voluntarily. Most of the time, art provoked other people or even connected them. The hero didn’t like the idea of mainly rich people doing their business in a museum.

So, meeting the villain here was a fresh relief. Their sweet, sweet villain who loved to punch answers out of people.

The hero knew they still had a bunch of work in front of them.

“Do you want me to spell it for you?” The villain looked down at them and the hero had to admit it. Their nemesis was scary. They looked scary. With a stern look and a terrifyingly strong body, they made the hero feel weaker than they actually were.

But at the same time, the hero felt protected by them. They’d been through too much bullshit together. They’d saved each other too many times.

“Explain it,” the hero whispered.

The villain looked around, grumpy as always. A scary frown on their forehead. The hero loved to rile them up a little, especially when the villain was the jealous sort of type that wanted the hero to know they were available.

Obviously the villain didn’t know they were that type of person yet. But the hero did.

“I am supposed to be married to the other villain tonight. As a cover. It would probably be best if you didn't interfere. They do get quite angry.”

“Would you just stand there and watch? If they found out I was having a little fun with you?” The hero turned away from them and stared at the exhibition from afar. The paintings and sculptures were striking. No wonder they were so popular.

“What? Of course not,” the villain said. Something in their voice had changed. “I know you can take care of yourself, though.”

“Hm.” The hero leaned back, pressing their body against the villain’s and to their surprise, their nemesis let out something like a laugh or sigh and grabbed their waist.

“What are you doing?” they whispered in the hero’s ear. They sounded quite helpless and the hero only smiled as they pressed their back against the villain’s chest. Maybe it was cruel of them to tease the villain like this. Maybe it was mean to push their hips against theirs.

But the wedding ring was bothering the hero quite a bit, even though it was fake.

“Oh, you know…” The hero grabbed the villain’s left hand, found the ring and pulled it off their finger. “I’m just making sure you know whom you belong to.”

They turned their head to kiss the villain’s jawline.

“You…” the villain whispered. They seemed utterly desperate and the hero couldn’t for the life of them explain why.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been with anyone before, hm?” the hero asked. They let their breath ghost over their enemy’s neck and the villain froze.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Always.”

“Something very vulnerable?” the villain asked. Now it was the hero’s turn to freeze. Immediately, their heart started racing.

Was the villain actually opening up? To them?

After all this time?

Their hand around the hero’s was cold and they did seem quite startled. The hero had to admit, they’d never been this bold before. Touching and flirting with the villain like this was dangerously intimate.

Maybe they’d fucked up.

“Of course,” they said. It felt like they’d been holding their breath for forever. They couldn’t let their own jealousness get in the way of this…relationship.

Despite being unbelievably powerful, the villain was also reasonable. The hero liked them and they didn’t want to make them feel miserable.

“���I’ve been with a bunch of people for the sake of my plans…I actually lost my virginity like that.”

The hero’s eyes widened.

“Because you needed to sleep with someone?!”

“Because I needed information, yeah. Sometimes I’m not sure if I used them or if they used me. I…I did some things I’m not comfortable with to get intel.” The villain was quiet and the hero turned around fully. They wanted to put a little bit of distance between them but the villain’s hands were still on their waist. “That’s why…it’s a little difficult for me, I suppose. But if you really like me and if you would like to and could help me, maybe I…”

“What do you need?” the hero asked. They’d never considered this to be the reason why the villain distanced themselves from everyone.

The villain seemed so huge, so strong, as if they could say no to anything. As if they could never get hurt.

“I need you to continue. I need you to take care of me. I really really like you and I’d like to change.”

The hero hadn’t expected that. They swallowed. This seemed like a lot of responsibility to carry but, honestly, they were used to that by now, weren’t they?

They gave the villain the second keycard to their hotel room.

“Room 241,” they said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Apparently, there was no need to be jealous.

[jennifer-jeong]

Hi there :)

Can I request some headcanons about Xiao and Wanderer (separated) with an old s/o? Like, they've been together for decades, but reader is a mortal and they're not, therefore they don't have many years left to live now that they're in their 80s. I would like something sweet but feel free to add some angst in it.

HI ANON TY FOR YOUR ASK! Ok so I’m literally goiNG TO CRY because I actually purposely make my own self insert immortal because this makes me so depressed but dw I will make it a fluffy happy ending. I would be unwell if I didn’t make it a happy ending LMAO

Fluff + Slight Angst | Xiao/Wanderer x Reader Mortals

CONTENT Fluff, some angst, gender neutral reader, HAPPY ENDING WOO, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

XIAO has been alive for longer than he can genuinely remember and most of it was spent suffering alone. He’s scarred so deeply that even until the end of time, the marks will never fade. He can’t get rid of his past but you came along and he realized he could at least start to heal from the centuries of pain. Your time together has been the best years of his life and it makes his heart ache to think that you’re about to come and go before even living for a fraction of his life. He’s watched your mortal body age but he still thinks knows that you’re the prettiest thing he’ll ever encounter. Xiao has always treated his time with you like it was limited, even when you were younger. He’s been getting desperate recently though, your body has slowed down, and you’re well into your elderly years. He’s always wanted to ask you if he and Zhongli could help you with this, return you to your younger body and help you live forever. But, he thought it would hurt you. Immortality is more of a curse than a blessing and he of all people should know that. But as your health deteriorated, he started to plan how to ask you without pressuring you. Honestly, when he finally brought it up, you giggled at him and said “I didn’t even know you could do that.” He blinked as he realized how much time had passed and how he really had been avoiding it all these years. It was just somewhat unfathomable to a 2000 year old being that all these fun years with you had already been a few decades. He explains why he felt bad suggesting it, but you quickly comforted him and thanked him for even bringing it up. You said you needed some time to think about it but you knew that you wanted more time with your beloved. It’s near impossible for most people to find their soulmate and so since you found yours, you wanted to somewhat selfishly hold onto him as long as you could. Of course he secretly felt the same though. Your time together might end soon as the traveller discovers the underlying mysteries of the world or it could end millenia later. Either way, you knew you’d be able to face it, together.

WANDERER has been through so much over the past few centuries of his life and he’s believed his emotions have been so useless to him as he isn’t even human. His suffering, pain, and desire never made sense because he always lacked a heart. He thought he’d be doomed to this forever until he met you. You breathed life into his mechanical body and into his new anemo vision heart. He felt truly alive with you, it was like he was freshly born as a real man when you came into his life. He took a while to properly warm up to you before he could express himself in a healthy way but you always had the patience for him. The problem was that he couldn’t have the same patience, not because he wasn’t a healthy partner, but because your life had a definite end. He was impatient because he couldn’t lose you and he didn’t know what else to do. He consulted Nahida/his mom about it and she suggested using his body as a template to create a body for you. One that would last forever with him. He was immediately overjoyed to hear that there was hope and he almost forgot to consider that you might not want to live forever. He probably tries to gauge if you would want to by prodding you with small questions but you see straight through him. You know something’s up, and you tell him that you know there’s enough trust between you two for either of you to speak freely. So he does. You take some time to debate it and decide to do it because even if at some point you can’t take it, you’d talk to him about it and come up with a solution (but you doubt that'll come up <3). There was a lot going on in Teyvat at the moment but just knowing that you’d have more time gave both of you peace. He was worried that afterwards you might not be the same, and that you might become emotionally hollow. But you knew that with him there, you’d never feel any less alive. Even without your physical body, you both had your souls, and it was all you’d ever need.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||