#I wanna do a full body one and then maybe a silly one or one without his hat and sun glasses

[teapartycryptid]

Wip Tuesday because I said so. this man has completely consumed my life. I played Palia for 8 hours straight today, and when I realized that it happened, I slowly pushed my laptop away from me, got up and stretched… and then immediately sat back down to start drawing palia fanart while listening to a deep dive tinker bell lore analysis video. I feel like trash but hey, at least I got some good art out of it

[motthe]

Maybe some Young! Silco fic? (Or anything that you wanna do) I already loved his older version but his Young self in The last episodes got my heart in a grip 😭💖💖 He looks so full of dreams and maybe a little silly. Maybe with a energetic/chaotic significant other!

young!silco also has me in a death grip don't worry. hope you enjoy this!!

warnings: fem!reader, violence, sexual innuendos, secondhand embarrassment for drunk rambling

“It’s doable!”

“Doable and survivable are two very different things.”

Vander knocked his head against the metal backing of his mining gloves repeatedly, aching for the two of you to come to a compromise. The light of the fungi matched the tink tink tink of his patience running thin.

Crunching footsteps had him pausing, one eye opening to find Felicia pushing her helmet up higher on her head as she stared at you and Silco just beyond, still very much squabbling. She leaned on her hip, one hand rising to rest on it as she smiled down at Vander’s hunched form.

“Are they still arguing about the gap?” she whispered.

He groaned quietly instead of answering. It was all she needed.

“I can make it!” you protested, arms gesturing to the other side of the ravine. “I’ve jumped buildings twice the distance.”

“When you’re jumping buildings you can see the ground,” Silco argued, pointing to the darkness below. “We don’t know how long a fall that is, you absolute lunatic.”

“You’ve gotta hand it to her,” Felicia chuckled, taking up camp next to Vander. “No one else would even think of jumping across.”

“She’s an adrenaline junkie,” Vander muttered. “Jumping off shit is all she thinks about.”

“Would you—just let me—damn it, Sil!”

The shuffle of boots and clothes had both of their heads turning, watching with equally amused expressions as Silco passed by with you being half carried half dragged away from the ravine. Silco didn’t pay them a glance as he went. You kept stretching back the way you came, struggling but not truly putting all your energy into it. Felicia could tell. You loved being his center of attention for as long as possible, even if it kept you away from your wild pastimes. 

The sound of a horn echoed through the caves, sending the fungi white with the sound. The work day was finished. 

“Back to the last drop, then?” Felicia hummed, standing and offering a hand to the big man. He accepted it with a soft grin, following her out. The two of them watched Silco far ahead, who was now fully carrying you in your grieved state. You kept muttering you could have made it.

“Think they’ll ever get together?” she hummed, nudging Vander.

“Wish they would,” he sighed. “It was annoying years ago, now its just pitiful.”

She laughed, waving a hand at you when you pulled your head up from Silco’s shoulder to eye them. “Well, she’ll never do it. She’s convinced herself he’s too focused on our cause to ever settle down.”

“Some days I think the same thing,” Vander said, introspective when she glanced up at him, “others, I catch him looking at her. He doesn’t open up, barely does around us, but…”

“Disappears around her, yeah?” She smiled at him and he mirrored her, nodding.

Later that night, the Last Drop was bustling with the newest record added to the box. You’re dancing over chairs, running across the edge of the pool tables as people chant your name. Someone tossed a mug through the air and you caught it, swallowing the contents down and cheering with the rest before continuing on with dancing. 

Silco watched from his bar seat. He had cruel timing, turning his eyes back to his notebook when you pulled yourself away from the crowd to glance at him. To you, he was lost in his own world, but really he fell into yours quite easily. You were distracting. He perked up at the sound of your voice without meaning to, knew the outline of your body in his periphery. Abrasive and chaotic. You’re too much, too loud.

Too perfect for someone as withdrawn and stiff as him.

“Oh, heaven help me,” Vander grumbled, both hands on the bar as he stared at the scene. Silco paused to raise an eyebrow at him. “She just downed three shots in one.”

“How many does that make it now?” he questioned.

“Eight.”

Both of their heads dropped, knowing how the night would be going.

“All right, I give!” Felcia slammed a hand on the bar as she walked up, panting. “I can’t keep up with her. Gods. Where does she get the energy?”

Vander passed her a drink as Silco shrugged, music blaring all around them. Felicia scowled when she noticed his journal. 

“Oh, c’mon, Silco. Let loose for a bit!” she shouted over the din of the bar, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“If I did that, nothing would ever get done around here,” he returned, smirking as she rolled her eyes. 

The counter shook under them, the second bang of Vander’s fist sending both of them on high alert. Two meant trouble. 

Felicia spun around, Silco turned in his seat. There by the record player you were backed against the wall by a man, one arm caging you in while his fingers pinched your chin. The cold look in your eyes had a shiver streaking down Silco's spine. You were a storm like this and he’d been lost to it for years. 

The man said something that made you scoff, batting his hand away and sliding to get out from under him. As his hand grabbed your upper arm Silco realized he was no longer sitting. Even across the room he could read your lips.

“Last chance. Beat it,” you warned.

The man laughed and tugged you closer, it sent your knee right between his legs. When he bent over, Silco heard the crack as your fist met the man’s jaw. He hit the ground, dead weight. 

Fuck, he thought, hands curling into fists at his side. You were perfect.

You stumbled back a few steps. It seemed those shots had soaked in. You were cradling your hand as yells broke out, slow to turn as a couple of goons stood from a table nearby.

“Great,” Felicia puffed, pushing off the bar, “he had lackeys.”

Vander shouted as they ran at you, Silco was halfway to you when you dodged the first swing, putting you straight into the path of another. Your back hit the record player, a scratch disrupting the music. The entire bar turned, regulars rushing forward without second thought and jumping the goons. 

Silco went straight to you, mindful of the chair Felicia was brandishing overhead as she flew into the meat of the fight. 

“Let me see,” he said, sliding a hand under your jaw and tilting your head back. You were hunching, still holding that hand of yours to your chest. 

“Hey, Sil,” you slurred, grinning and wincing. Your lower lip was busted, the right side of your face already beginning to swell from the jaw up. “Can you believe that guy? Down in one hit, hah!”

“Still have all your teeth?” he asked, wiping the blood trailing from the corner of your mouth. 

“What? You want me to open wide for you?”

He ticked a brow, scowling through the heat that flashed through his stomach. 

“Come on, let’s get ice on that,” he muttered, wrapping an arm around you. You hummed happily, falling into his side. Even as drunk as you were, your feet barely stumbled as he led you to the basement door. He nodded to Vander who already had the same idea, coming around the back of the bar to pass him an ice pack and a clean rag. He thanked him.

“Take care of her,” Vander said, rubbing a hand over your back. You tossed the big man a smile before he returned to his station.

“Keep that on there,” Silco said to you, heart aching as you hissed at the touch of it. 

“I’ve got it,” you muttered, hand brushing his. He made sure you kept it pressed to your cheek before opening the door and helping you in first, careful of the stairs as he closed it behind him. The sounds of fighting and the skipping music was muffled as he led you into the bowels of the Last Drop, setting you down gently on the couch.

He reached for your hand, frowning when you turned away from him. 

“Let me see,” he said.

“It’s fine,” you grumbled, curling into the couch.

“I’d like to see that for myself,” he pushed, fingers gentle as they smoothed over your wrist. Your furrowed brow relaxed a bit, watery eyes trailing to him. “Let me see,” he asked again, softer.

You sighed, the weight of your arm settling into his palm as he moved to sit next to you. You hand shook in both of his, the skin of your knuckles ripped open and gushing red. When he attempted to move your pointer and middle fingers you whimpered, head falling into his shoulder.

He apologized, pulling one hand away to reach into his jacket. “It’s sprained. I’ll need to wrap it.”

“Sweet Sil,” you sighed, your good cheek rubbing against his shoulder as you brought your knees up, “always prepared for the worst.”

“I wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t constantly getting into trouble,” he hummed, pulling out a roll of bandages and beginning his work. You curled into him as he cleaned you up, tensing when he secured your bruised digits. As he tied the bandages off around your wrist, he sighed, holding your hand in his, thumb running over your skin. 

“M’sorry,” you sniffed.

He turned his head, a breath punched from his lungs as he saw tears slipping down your cheeks. The ice pack laid abandoned in your lap. 

“What are you apologizing for?” he murmured, brushing your hair out of your face. 

“I always make a mess,” you whispered, little gasps slipping. Each one was a bullet to his chest. He couldn’t stand seeing you cry. “I always annoy you.”

“No,” he murmured, arms stretching over you to pull you into his lap, “no, you don’t annoy me, pet.”

“Yes, I do,” you sobbed. “I get into t-trouble when I-when I just want you to look at me.”

Oh, Gods help him. He knew this was the alcohol talking but the hopeful flame in his heart was burning into a torch. He needed to calm you down and get you to bed. 

“I’m looking,” he said, lips grazing your forehead as he rubbed your back. “You don’t have to try so hard. I’m always looking.”

You sniffed and he grabbed the bloody rag, nudging the cleanest corner towards you to blow your nose. He chuckled when you groaned, curling deeper into his chest.

“Too drunk for this,” you mumbled. “Stupid shots.”

“Stupid shots, indeed,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Let's get you some water and go to bed.”

You whined, hiding your face in his neck. “Wanna stay here. M’warm.”

He sighed, settling into the couch. Eventually you would nod off. He’d carry you into bed, then.

“Hair’s nice.”

“What?” he chuckled, trying to look down at you, but it was impossible with you smushed up against him.

“Your hair,” you said, lips moving against his neck. “I like it when it’s bun. Hair frames your face nice. S’handsome.”

You’re going to hate yourself in the morning, he thought, holding back his laughter. You were never going to live this down and he wasn’t nearly nice enough to not tease you about this for the rest of your life. 

“Face hurts,” you sighed. He rubbed your calf, shushing you.

“Sleep, pet,” he murmured against your forehead. 

“You’ll stay?” you asked.

“I’ll stay,” he promised.

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐨 — 𝐌.𝐒.

Synopsis: Matt helps you with your trauma.

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, soft dom Matt, SA mentions, crying, panic attacks

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He didn’t need much detail to know whatever happened affected you on a daily basis. Matt just knew. It happened more than a year before you two started dating. So much time had passed, yet it still made your life look so…different. 

You didn’t sleep with a comforter. When you did, all you could hear was the ruffle of the sheets, an alert that made you think someone was about to violate you. Because that’s what your ex had done. You wished it was a stranger. You wished it wasn’t somebody that you would've sacrificed everything for. But it was him—a ghost from your past that lingered in every corner of your mind. 

“Sweetheart, I…I know it’s not something you ever talk about. I never wanna make you feel like you have to, but…but can you let me know the things that trigger you, maybe? So I don’t…so I don’t accidentally hurt you—I…I really just wanna make you feel safe, baby. That’s all I want.”

Those affirming words led to a new confrontation of emotion. You talked. For the first time ever, you said your ‘ex’ instead of ‘him.’ The assailant's identity being confirmed into reality just made it so nauseating, yet relieving. You had finally said it—it was finally real. 

“You—your ex?”

It broke Matt’s heart. He could tell by the glossy haze over your eyes that you trusted that poor excuse of a man with your heart fully. Someone broke you—someone broke you enough that you still couldn’t feel safe every night in your own bed. 

Matt listened with full intent. He heard a vibration of rage in his ears, making sure to remain as calm as possible and holding your hand secure with a gentle grip. 

Changes were made instantly. Matt was so genuine, so observant. He switched everything in his bed. Cotton sheets were exchanged for satin and silk. A small night light was purchased—one that looked like a silly penguin. He claimed it was just because he thought it was cute, but it didn’t take you long to realize it only got plugged into the wall when you spent the night. 

It was all for you. 

Even though he wanted to be as close to you as possible, he spent the first couple sleepovers on the opposite side of the bed. The first time, he felt a little sick. You were curled into a ball, nearly falling off from how far your body was on the mattress. 

It took months, but eventually you started gradually shifting to Matt in your sleep. Your body cooperated before your mind did. The first time you woke up with your head resting on his chest and his arm looped around your shoulders…it was horrid. Matt felt awful. The panicked gasps of air still made his chest tighten with guilt, even though he didn’t even really do anything. 

But, it was okay—it was okay because it was Matt, not him. Not the man who had ripped away a love language from you and turned it into a screaming siren of anxiety. It still hurt, but it hurt a little less. You didn’t feel deprived anymore, you just felt heavy. 

A bit more time gave your mind enough reasons to start following your body’s reactions. Matt had learned to move slowly to detach himself from you. He didn’t want you to wake up with that scared look on your face—he couldn’t let that happen to you over and over again. 

“No,” you mumble, pulling Matt closer. Your features are still softened with sleep, a slight furrow between your brows showing a subtle amount of distress. 

Matt pets over your head, trying to soothe you awake gently. “Sweetheart, I…gotta move, I don’t want you to panic—”

“Please.” 

Your gentle whisper is enough to make him relax again. He’s a bit confused, but it’s not enough to make him move. Instead, he lays there, staring at the ceiling and appreciating your warmth—your trust. 

The trust only bloomed with time and patience. Eventually, kisses had gotten more passionate.

His hesitant hands suddenly got grasped by yours as you guided them to your hips. You were sitting on his lap. You had every chance to stand up and leave if you wanted to. But you didn’t want anything else but him.

“Touch me, Matt.” 

Your directions make him swallow with a loud gulp. His eyes widen as he looks into yours with a search for confirmation. “Are you…are you sure, sweetheart. We don’t—”

“I trust you.” 

Light touches got more affirmative as you started to roll your hips onto him.

It felt good…up until it didn’t. 

“I–I don’t know what happened,” you ramble, curled in a ball as he rocks you like a baby from side to side. It’s humiliating, but you can’t find it in yourself to have any dignity in such a raw state. 

You tried. You really fucking tried.

And you failed. 

“I’m sorry for leading you on, I–”

“No. Don’t apologize. We’re gonna take it slow, okay? Don’t…don’t look at this as something to be ashamed about. You…you feel safe enough to try with me and that—that means everything to me, I…”

He pulls you upward into a tight hug as you cry. Part of him just wants to hold you closer, but another part of him just doesn’t want you to see him cry. He wants to focus on you—he wants you to focus on yourself too, not him. Slow, gentle rocks soothe you to doze off as he silently lets hot tears drift down his cheeks. 

You don’t deserve this. Whatever happened to you—he doesn’t care how it affects him, he doesn’t care that his girlfriend of nearly five months hasn’t had sex with him. He cares how it affects you. Sleepless nights, avoiding the mirror, shying away from men—even his brothers. It’s so unfair. It’s so fucking unfair. 

Figuring it out was hard—harder than you would’ve imagined. Failed attempt after failed attempt that left you in tears or distress. It felt so pathetic. You felt weak. Matt was incessant on affirming the opposite.

Weak meant you wouldn’t try—weak meant giving up and the tears meant you were still fighting. 

It wasn’t how you expected it to happen, but it happened. You felt so safe, so comfortable. You didn’t need control like you thought, you just needed to trust him and let him guide you. Being on top of him left more room for overthinking—more room for air to lather your skin with heavy reluctance. 

You both had spent the day together. It wasn’t anything special, no fancy date or big present, but it was relaxing. Matt had gotten you matching pajama pants. He even begged you to wear his favorite shirt that he knew you loved. Blankets piled on top of your bodies as you cuddled together, movie after movie playing on the TV in his room as you sank further into the bed. 

A soft, romantic kiss had led to this—Matt hovering over your naked body while grinding his hard length into your core with his briefs still covering him. The noises, the sensations…it was all so good, but Matt was analyzing every flutter of your eyes, every slight motion from your hands as you gripped onto the sheets. 

“Matt, I—” 

Wordlessly, you tug on the hem of his briefs. Matt freezes for a second. Looking into your eyes, he cups your cheek. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I…I’ll stop if you say the word—but are you sure? Fuck, I just—” Matt bites hard on his lower lip as he feels your hips chase upward and against him. “---just don’t wanna hurt you,” he rasps. 

“I want this, I…I want you, I trust you. I…I just…I—please,” you whimper, tugging a little harder on the fabric. 

Peeling off the remaining barrier between your bodies, Matt glides his tip along your folds and fuck…it feels like heaven. Not just the sensation, but the emotion—the trust—-the bare vulnerability. 

Circling your clit delicately, he lets himself kiss into your neck. “Do you want my fingers first, sweetheart? I—” 

“No, please—” you grind into his touch. “--just want you—all of you.” 

Even though he’s on top, he follows your directions. You’re in control. He’s doing whatever you want, doing what makes you feel good—pleasure and security. 

The initial stretch of his tip is a lot. It feels a bit unfamiliar. You’ve never had sex like this—so raw and bare. It’s more than just skin and bodies, it’s your trust and your peace. 

"Oh--Matt,” you whine. His thick cock is gliding into your walls viciously slow. You feel everything and it all feels like bliss. You’re safe. You can trust him. There’s nothing blocking you from devoting yourself to the present—letting you bathe in the intimacy of truly letting go. 

“I…oh my—are—are you okay? Do you, um,” His mind isn’t connecting words as well. The feeling of your warm walls squeezing his dick is distracting, but he’s intent on taking care of you—making sure you know this is only about you. “--do you need me to stop?” 

“No—keep going, please—” you both let out explicit, lewd moans as your legs swarm around his waist, nuzzling him deep inside of you. 

And god…it’s so consuming. You can’t think of anything. Not when he slowly starts to grind his cock inside of you, a wet squelch making your walls clench around him. 

“I…”

The wordless trail off of your words makes Matt hesitate again. But, he hisses as he feels you start to match his rhythm, your hips rutting upward to meet each motion of his pelvis. 

“Is…is this—ah fuck, is this okay, sweetheart? Is it, is it s–still—”

“More than—-more than okay, I—more, Matt. Please.” 

Your legs loosen as he starts to lazily drive his cock and and out of your slick entrance. He angles his hips upward, digging into you with passion as he sees your mouth fall into an ��O.’ Your nails dig into his biceps. The pain is encouraging. He’s making you feel so good—so good that your body reacts involuntarily as he plunges himself against the same spot that makes your chest arch into him more and more. 

“My girl, shiiiit,” he seethes. Erratic motions become urgent as he watches your eyes roll back. Your lips smack open to spare him a warning, but fail as he keeps sliding in and out of you with passion and intent. “---gonna cum?” You nod. “Yeah, that—-that’s okay, sweetheart. Just—let—go,” he soothes, trying desperately to hold back his own release as you start muttering his name as a mantra with your walls convulsing deliberately around him. 

“I—Matt, I—”

“That’s it, c’mon. I…I—fuck, feels s’good, baby. Can’t—I can’t hold back much longer. I—” 

The heels of your feet dig into his back, forcing him as deep as possible as you climb down from your high. 

“Sweetheart, please, I need—-need to—-gonna cum, where—”

Tightening your lock around his hips even further, you massage your hands through his hair, pulling him into the side of your neck. Matt’s hips thrust forward with urgency and exhaustion. “Inside. Please, I—-”

“Are you—-are—-you s-sure? Can’t hold back…..can’t---baby,” 

His mindless rambles are cut short as you whisper a soft plea into the air. The deep moan that falls from his lips is mesmerizing. A warm feeling of his cum spilling inside of you makes everything so much more real. 

“Fuck….” Matt breathes heavily, his hot breath fanning onto your neck as he slowly hovers himself above you again. His eyes meet yours with a new found connection, a silence that speaks volumes as you both bathe in the after effects of the intimate acts. “You,” 

You can’t help but swallow thickly as warmth clouds your face. His eyes water looking down at you, his hand cupping your cheek as a soft, sympathetic smile covers his face. 

“I’m so proud of you, I….”

An overwhelming amount of peace consumes you. Your cheek falls further into his hand as his thumb swivels against your skin. The pale blue eyes gleam into you with so much emotion. 

“I’m proud, sweetheart. I just—I hope you’re proud too,” 

[arieslost]

ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with

anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

1:30 am | ln4

you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.

“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”

“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.

something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.

now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.

which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.

“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.

“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.

“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”

“yeah, if you want me to.”

“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.

you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”

“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”

“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.

“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”

he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”

“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”

“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.

“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.

“stop laughing then!”

“you stop!”

naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.

“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.

“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”

“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.

a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.

“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”

“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.

“ooh, lemme feel.”

“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”

“not my fault you’re weird and british.”

“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”

“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”

he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”

you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”

you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.

word count: 790

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo

[daenysx]

this is like the summary of my morning- without the boys, sadly. i woke up really bad and writing this helped a lot, i hope you enjoy too! ♡

poly!marauders x fem!reader, mostly fluff - a little hurt/comfort maybe

an almost ruined morning

you wake up angry for no reason this morning.

maybe no reason isn't right; you're stressed because of your final week, mostly thanks to the high pressure you put on yourself and one of your closest friends cancelled your study date for today. you blink your eyes open with slight panic, irritation makes your stomach achy. there's also a headache that starts forming, a nice ribbon on top of your package of stress.

it must be raining out there, you hear the water drops hitting against the window. the boys are nowhere to be seen, they must've woken up earlier than you. you leave the empty bed with glossy eyes, almost tearing up for not waking up early enough to get some school work done. that wasn't what you planned last night.

"there she is." james sees you first. he opens his arms for you. "good morning, pretty girl."

"morning." you mumble, burying your face to his chest. he smells like aftershave and shower gel, slight coffee and a hint of cigarettes which you think he gets from kissing remus. he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight.

"are you okay?" he whispers to your ear. you're sure he gives a look behind you to remus, not understanding what happens.

"i was gonna wake up early to do my readings." you say against his chest.

he strokes your hair, feeling the uneasiness in your voice. "it's still early babe, you can start after breakfast, hmm?"

remus comes next to you, rubbing your back and giving you a kiss on your hair. "i thought you were gonna meet with shelby today for studying."

he came home late last night so he doesn't know you won't be seeing shelby. "she cancelled. said she has something came up." you murmur.

"yeah?" remus raises an eyebrow. "does that mean we get to spend time together?"

you nod into james's chest, discomfort creeps into your hands. shaky hands, pins and needles. you don't know why you're so nervous.

sirius comes into kitchen, hand in his hair to shape his wet curls up. he gives you a huge smile when he sees you. "good morning!" he says brightly. you immediately sense he's in the mood for a happy morning. you wish you could feel the same.

"morning, siri." you say, still leaning to james but your face is turned to the boys.

"what's wrong?" sirius asks. "what's with the pout, angel girl?"

"i don't know." you admit. "i woke up angry and sad, and i wanna study but i can't. i don't know."

you say the last part with a shaky voice and that makes boys frown. you bury yourself back to james's chest, embarrassed and silly, you don't feel like you can deal with this. you're being too extra and you just woke up.

"okay." james says. "it's fine, baby, it's normal. let's go lay on couch a bit, yeah?"

remus gives him an approving look. james leads you into living room, you lay down angrily. he takes the fluffiest blanket to cover your bodies. you can hear sirius drying his hair in the bathroom and remus starts the kettle for tea.

you are more than willing to stay against james, he's big and soft for you. with his muscular arms wrapped around you, you feel safe. hidden from everything, and it's nice. he kisses your forehead, his glasses are on the coffee table. he rubs your back with a huge hand. you breathe shakily, definitely unable to relax.

"sweetheart." he whispers. "we gotta relax a bit, okay?" he puts your head on his chest, right where his heart beats. "can you follow my breathing?"

you try to do as he says. your eyes are closed, your ear is pressed against your lover's heart. it's not so easy to do but you succeed after a long minute. "it's okay." he whispers, kissing your head. "relax, baby."

your head stops pounding after a while, that's good. you hear silent steps into the room, remus comes in with a steaming mug and a full plate. he puts them on the coffee table before coming to your side, his long fingers are gentle on your hair.

"feel any better?" he asks. you nod, looking at him from james's chest. he motions the table with his eyes. "do you want to have some breakfast? i got you your favorite."

"thank you." you say, eyes filled with tears suddenly. remus coos lovingly, he leans in to dry your tears. you can't handle them being so gentle with you, feeling like you ruined their morning. they still take care of you when you're being useless on the couch. "i'm sorry." you say.

"sorry for what?" sirius asks, joining you in the room. "you're too lovely to say sorry for anything, babe, please stop."

you cry for a few minutes, letting it out with gentle encouragements from boys. the stress of everything makes you lightheaded, you don't want to feel like this. you don't want to cry over academics anymore, you want to be a person who can adapt to quick changes when things don't go as planned. your tears wet james's shirt but he doesn't seem to care, his calm eyes following you. you get tired. you feel so tired.

you sit up, done with the crying. you rub your eyes, remus holds your both hands in his one hand as he uses the other one to dry your tears softly. he has a look of understanding on his face, you are grateful for the sentiment.

"can i have some tea?" you ask. sirius hands you the cup quickly, you take a few sips before looking at them. james wants to wipe the look of guilt off your face, he holds your hand.

"i'm sorry." you say. "i don't know what came over me."

"you have nothing to say sorry for." james says. "it's okay if you don't feel well, lovely."

"it's just-" you start. "i can't spend the time i think of doing things by actually doing them and- it stresses me out. like i'm always competing against time."

you take another sip from your tea. saying what upsets you out loud is a nice feeling, knowing they'll never judge you. they actually listen and understand, they will stay with you no matter what.

"you have 10 days until the finals, right?" remus asks.

you nod. "but i have to finish a paper before that."

"but still it means you have time." remus comes, sits on the empty spot on the couch. he cups your cheeks, his heart breaks at the sight of your tired eyes. "i think- we can spend today by resting and helping you get some sleep. you brain can't function properly if you don't take care of yourself, dove."

you nod. "okay."

"okay." he kisses your forehead. "good."

you finish your tea, and take a bite of the breakfast remus prepared for you. you don't feel like eating much but still force yourself to eat some of it. remus takes your empty cup to kitchen and james leaves to open the window in the bedroom now that the rain has stopped. fresh air will be nice.

"don't worry please." you say softly to sirius. he looks upset, nothing like his sparkly mood before. "i'm sorry i made you sad."

he can't resist it, takes you into his arms. you are more than happy to follow him, putting your head on the curve of his shoulder. he keeps you, smiles only a bit. "you have nothing to be sorry for. i just- i hate seeing you cry."

"i know."

"i wanna put a smile on your pretty face." he says, cupping your cheeks. "you're cute with the pout, but i'd prefer a smile."

you smile. a real smile, just what he deserves. you actually show him your teeth, he kisses you. "do you really think i'm cute?" you flirt, trying to get one more kiss from him. his kisses are healing.

"i think you're more than cute." he kisses your nose. "i can prove it."

"are you trying to make her faint, pads?" james asks, coming back to your side.

he might be right because sirius has always had this effect on you. you lose yourself when he kisses you, and it's good. it makes you forget your problems. he makes you feel brave, like you can achieve anything you want. he kisses you once more, your eyes are closed. james admires the sight.

"finally got a smile on her face, do you see that?" sirius says. "don't be jealous, prongs."

"i'm jealous." remus says, sitting on the other side of you. "i want a kiss."

he is teasing more than usual, to cheer you up. you give him a good kiss as he takes you to his lap. james sits on the empty spot you left, playing with sirius's hair. it's definitely how they flirt.

"maybe you should put a smile on my face too, huh?" james says to his boyfriend. "gorgeous."

sirius kisses him, his hand slipping into james's curls. they start talking after, a quiet chat about their games. everything goes back to normal now that you feel better. remus keeps you on his lap, though. you don't think he'll leave you for a while. he likes the reassurance of your wellness, he likes the quiet kisses you press on his neck when you wanna stop thinking. he likes how you play with his fingers.

remus brushes his lips to the side of your head. "better, lovely?"

you nod. it's not a lie, you feel better. sometimes it's good to cry about things, especially when you're treated like this by your boys. you just need some time to settle down, you think. remus's lap is the perfect place to think about things and then forget them, he rubs your back with occasional neck kisses and you fall asleep right there.

♡

(ps; the pics are from pinterest, they don't belong to me)

[softsunnyy]

hiii! would you write for luke (hughes) taking you skating for the first time??

luke my beloved

hi sweetie!! i tried my best, i hope you like it. When i read your request all i could think of was UMich!Luke.

1,6k words.

mention of Ethan Edwards, Mark Estapa and Dylan Duke!!

divider by @cafekitsune

when Luke proposed a date, thousands of plans and ideas ran through your head. It didn't have to be anything very sophisticated, you could be happy just seeing him for more than five minutes. However, you have to admit that you felt a little silly for not thinking of the most obvious option, like going skating. 

you´re nervous, when he tells you you can only smile and try not to kill his excitement, but internally you try to think, to remember, when was the last time you put on skates? with friends? when you were a little girl? you can't remember, because it´s too rare for you to do it

Luke was born with skates, probably knowing how to skate backwards at the same time he learned to walk, but for you it wasn't that easy, and your fear of publicly making a fool of yourself made you never go on the ice, in front of people who would watch you fall, and laugh quietly before trying to help you.

you don't even have skates, and you try to tell Luke, wanting it to serve as an excuse to at least postpone it, but he won't let you, since he had the solution, and he quickly got you what you needed. Normally you love his ability to resolve conflicts, but right now you just want the earth to swallow you up and not let you humiliate yourself with the guy you've only been dating for two months. 

what you didn't know is that Luke didn't want to go to a public place either, with music, noise, people nearby and little privacy, so he asked his friends for help, who quickly began to give ideas and solutions. That's how he was able to talk to the people in charge of the skating rink where they usually train, reminding them of a favor he had done them a while ago. 

and maybe, just maybe, he had to use his Hughes influence, but who cares? it wasn't something you needed to know, but he knows Ethan and Dylan won't let him forget that.

you asked your friends, and you even tried to ask Mark for advice, but even with all the answers and having the theory, you don't know if you'll be able to be decent on the ice. 

when the day came, Luke appeared at your door, with a warm smile and a bag hanging from his shoulder. 

"are you ready, babe?" was the first thing he asked, and even though your body wanted to do the opposite, you nodded, taking his hand and closing the door behind your back, praying that everything would be okay. 

as if he could sense it, Luke squeezed your hand gently, making you take your eyes off the floor and look at him. 

“everything okay?” he asked, and you could hear nervousness and worry in his voice, which quickly made you feel guilty. 

'he'll know anyway, right?' you thought.

“i was just thinking that i don't really know how to skate…” his gaze softened, and again his hand squeezed yours, comfortingly. 

“do you wanna go somewhere else? we can do something else," he offered, not caring about how long it had took him to plan the date.

"no! i wanna do it” you answered, which made a smile appear on his face, different from the nervous smile he had before. It's the smile you love, that makes you feel warm and secure.

it's then that you try to convince yourself, and you let him guide you, while you talk about your days and studies. You forgot about everything for a moment, laughing at his story of the day, about how Ethan tried to run to the kitchen and slipped, knocking over Mark, who knocked over Dylan, breaking something that belonged to one of his classmates, and all starting with a dare your boyfriend had made to Ethan. 

when you stopped in front of his training place you looked at him a little confused, to which he smiled again, pulling your hand so you could go inside. 

“well, i wanted our date to be more relaxed, not on a skating rink full of people waiting to see the moment you fall, or pushing you, or with music that was too loud, and i think the ideal place is this one. After all, this was also where we met” he said, without looking at you. And you can see the way his ears started to turn red under his curly, messy hair.

“thank you, Lu,” you said, feeling calmer. He just looked at you, and you took the moment to kiss his cheek, sighing contently when you saw him get even more nervous. 

after that you reached one of the benches, where he helped you put on your skates. And you have to admit, your heart beat even faster than normal when you saw him kneeling on one leg, being delicate like you've rarely seen him, making sure they were on properly and that you felt comfortable. And only after he was sure, he put on his own skates.

when he extended his hand to help you stand up, you knew it was time to face that fear and put all your trust in Luke.

you looked at him for a couple of seconds, until you finally took his hand, letting him guide you slowly, without rushing, without risking slipping. When your feet finally touched the ice, you had him in front of you, taking both of your hands, not letting you hold on to the railing. 

“do you trust me?” he asked you, with a soft and sweet tone of voice, looking into your eyes with confidence, and an expression of contagious calm that without thinking made you nod. “Okay, then don't try to let go” he warned before starting to skate backwards to the center of the ice. So you couldn't hold on to something, you would have to face it.

you inhaled deeply, and let him begin to carry you, being careful when turning, and advising you on things you could improve to make it easier, like your posture, or the way you spread your legs. Little by little, without disturbing you, without letting you notice it too much, he let go of one of your hands, still in front of you, and talking to you about a thousand things to keep your mind distracted. Then he began to get closer to your side, until at one point he began to skate next to you, only holding one of your hands, but it was no longer to give you balance, but for the warmth of having his hand linked to yours.

“i knew you could do it” he said, smiling and proud, making a weight lift from your chest, and infecting you with his happiness. 

“i did it!” you said, equally excited and jumping into his arms, forgetting the context for a moment, and making you both almost fall to the ice. 

“woah, pretty, be careful” he laughed, putting his hands on your waist, leaving your body still and close to him. 

you can't help but look into his eyes, feeling the enormous love you have for him fill every part of you.

you can't help but think of all the things Luke helps you with, making you try new things and making you live. 

it's not that you didn't have a life before, but you had never felt this, and he opens up so many worlds to you, so many experiences that you didn't know you needed, but that make your heart feel alive. 

you attached your lips to his without thinking, almost whimpering at how right it felt. He tried to bring your body closer, if that was even possible, enjoying how, despite being in the middle of an ice rink, you still transmitted heat to his body. 

when you broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing deeply.

“a race?” he asked, so you backed away a little, looking at him with a smile. 

“oh, i'm gonna win now that i know how to use these things,” you said, referring to the skates.

so you both skated quickly and carefully to the side of the rink, getting ready and counting to three before starting. He gave you a bit of an advantage, but he was still surprised to see how much control you seemed to have over your body after a while. He was so distracted looking at you, that for a moment he forgot two very important things. 

the first is that he didn't teach you how to stop when you're going that fast. 

the second is that he also has to look forward when skating and notice that he also has to stop. 

you both hit the edge, not hard enough to hurt yourself, but hard enough to make you fall ridiculously. Which made you laugh out loud.

from the seats in the “audience”, a not very large group of people was watching, with big smiles and feeling accomplished by how well everything was going.

“i bet when i send the video to him he's gonna cry because of how much he loves her.” One of them said, making the others laugh. 

“we can send it to Quinn and Jack first, they'll probably want to tease their baby brother for being so cheesy,” Ethan said this time, in a mocking tone.

although deep down, everyone is happy to see both of you like this, and even though not everyone knows too much about love, they do know that the couple on the ice has a long history to live.

together.

[crabsnpersimmons]

i realize i never posted these boys

these are my boys for my restaurant AU: "Have You Eaten?"

the basic premise is this: Y/N works a stressful job where keeping up appearances is paramount. They often treat their clients to a meal at their favourite restaurant, run by the DCA boys—the nutrition-conscious chef Sun, the sweet and friendly chef Moon, and the charming front of house Eclipse. Y/N always orders something small and light so they can focus on talking with their client and maintaining appearances—nothing too large, nothing messy, nothing indulgent. Then after the meal, they walk their client to their car and they wait for their client to leave. Secretly, Y/N is a glutton. Once their client leaves, they hurry back to the restaurant, where their true meal is hot and ready for them.

Eclipse: Welcome back, Starlight! Ready for your second course?

Moon: Do you wanna skip straight to dessert? I tried a new recipe for donuts!

Sun: No. The hour is late, you should have something simple and adequately filling before bed.

Eclipse: Or... maybe you're interested in something "off the menu?"

they're a silly bunch (:

some other notes under the cut

the title is "Have You Eaten?" which is a common greeting in multiple languages. There's something warm about being greeted with this check-in to make sure you that have taken care of your body.

the restaurant is mostly based on a Hong Kong style cafe (a cha chaan teng) but the specials change often and often branch into other types of dishes and cuisines, because the boys like to experiment with new recipes.

Eclipse does have 4 arms, but he usually hides his second pair away because he's found it disturbed customers.

they can eat as an alternative method of recharging, and they can turn off their taste buds. Sun in particular has a bad habit of eating food scraps.

the DCA's relationship with each other is... complicated? They don't exactly like each other but are forced by their code to remain within a certain distance to each other. So they begrudgingly work and live together and cause trouble for each other's lives.

despite having separate bodies, their code forces them to stay within a certain radius (1515 feet, or the approximate distance between the 2 furthest points of the Mega Pizzaplex). They wear clip-on earrings to extend the range whenever they need extra space (usually Eclipse, hence why he has so many).

Eclipse is the oldest—he was built first for the theatre. Many years later, Eclipse was moved to the daycare to entertain children. But since they were short-staffed, Sun and Moon were built using Eclipse's code to help him at the daycare.

their pizzaplex was left to ruin and the three of them got out and were picked up by an old chef, who took them in and taught them everything he knows before leaving his restaurant to them and passing away.

i would like to write something for this AU. The main story still needs some work, but I have a lot of little drabble ideas that I might write. Or maybe it will be an AU full of drabbles. That's a possibility too. Although I would like to explore stories with other y/ns, like one who is a picky eater, one who has a lot of food allergies, etc.

also head's up: innuendos. innuendos everywhere. (most of which are Eclipse's fault)

[rafeandonlyrafe]

imagination part two

part one part three

words: 1k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, male receiving oral, face fucking

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl

“shit, baby!” rafe grabs the towel hanging on the wall, wrapping it around his waist to cover himself. “what did you forget honey?” 

you completely forgot what you were came back for, blinking several times at rafe, your eyes glazed over as you take in his muscles, the memory of what is now being covered by the towel seared into your mind.

“baby girl, what did you forget?” rafe asks again.

“i-um. my scrunchie.” you say, reaching for the scrunchie you left on the counter. a silly thing to come back for maybe, but rafe knows it's your favorite.

“im glad you got it, now let me get dressed and ill walk you out to your car, yeah?” rafe tucks the towel so it holds itself up, slowly advancing towards you.

“rafey, why were you calling my name?” you ask as he comes up to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “were you… touching yourself?”

rafe swallows his surprise. “what does my innocent girl know about touching yourself?”

your cheeks flare red. “i don't wanna be innocent anymore, rafe. i-i want you to take my virginity.”

rafes eyes slide closed, his chest moving in a steady up and down motion, trying to control himself from going completely feral and doing what you ask by bending you over the counter and thrusting his length into you.

“baby, you should spend some more time thinking about it.”

“no.” you frown, “i want you. now.”

rafe groans, like he's releasing his last bit of self control, and walks you backwards into the bedroom. you move to the bed, allowing him to control your movements as you sit down on the comforter.

“we'll go slow.” rafe says, more commanding himself than telling you.

“can i see your dick again?” you ask, eyes now closer to level with the towel wrapped around his waist, sticking up in the center from where he had rehardened.

“yeah.” rafe nods, wishing he could get you naked first, but wanted to let you have a bit of control before he lost all of his and fucked you like an animal.

you tug at the towel, much more eager than rafe thought you would be. if he knew that you accidentally seeing him naked would spur this moment, he would have started walking around naked a lot earlier in your relationship.

the towel falls to the floor and your eyes widen, taking in how long and thick rafes cock is, jutting out from his body. you wrap your hand around the base and give him a stroke, making rafe groan out.

“is this good?” you question, and rafe nods, going to answer verbally when he cuts himself off with a gasp when you continue to move your hand.

you scrunch your face in concentration as you stroke him, trying to tell what he likes by the noises and faces he's making, and by how his cock twitches in your hand.

you swipe your thumb over his tip, a bit of precum leaking out. before you can really think over your actions, you lean forward and flick your tongue over his leaky head.

“fuck!” rafe shouts out, not expecting your actions. you quickly pull back, thinking you did something wrong or something that didn't feel good, but as you retreat, rafe pushes forward, his cock slipping past your lips, filling your mouth.

“fuck…” rafe groans again, unable to control the curses falling from his tongue. “baby just… just relax okay? im gonna fuck your mouth. i-i can't stop.” 

you nod curtly, wishing you had more experience before doing this with rafe, but you trust him to lead you, even as he pushes his hips further forward, until his cock hits the back of your throat, causing you to cough.

“relax, baby.” rafe warns again, pulling out to let you take a full breath before his cock is back in your mouth, and this time he doesn't move slowly, snapping his hips forward and back, thrusting himself repeatedly into your mouth.

you try to breathe through your nose the best you can, only gagging occasionally when rafe hits particularly deep. he brings his hands to your head, moving you in rhythm with him. 

you close your eyes, feeling tears fall down your cheeks. you hope that whatever you’re doing is making rafe feel good as he moans above you. 

“i’m sorry baby.” rafe runs his palm over the top of your hair. “i just can’t stop, you feel too good.”

you hum around his cock, trying to tell him that it’s okay, that you want to make him feel good like this, but he can’t let up as he continues to fuck your face, drool now rolling down your cheeks.

“gonna cum.” rafe warns only seconds before he shoots down your throat, somehow able to cum so quickly after just masturbating in the shower. you swallow everything he has to offer, moaning softly at the taste as he starts to soften in your mouth. he pulls out with a soft sigh, and you heave in large breaths, wiping your chin and neck clean.

rafe seems to suddenly realize what he just did as he kneels down in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. “are you okay? i’m so sorry, babygirl, i couldn’t stop.”

“it’s okay, rafey.” you shake your head. “it… felt really good. i liked that.”

“i didn’t hurt you?” rafe confirms.

“no.” you shake your head. “i wanna do it again.”

rafe laughs, pulling you into a kiss. you melt against him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, keenly aware of the fact that he is still naked and the intense craving to have him between your thighs.

“i can’t get it back up right now, but we can definitely do that again, and more.” rafe says, standing up and letting you recover as he gets dressed, donning a simple pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“are you… are you not going to fuck me tonight?” you ask, a pout coming to your face.

“not tonight baby.” rafe shakes his head. “need you to keep some of that innocence for a bit longer darling.”

“rafe, thats so unfair!” you whine.

“no it’s not. i’m giving you more time to think about wanting to lose your virginity because once i’m in that pussy baby-” rafe pauses to kiss the top of your head before moving his mouth to your ear “i am going to fucking destroy it.”

part three

[itsascreambaby96]

I saw you were taking asks,

Could you do Billy Loomis smut with impregnation/breeding kink? Maybe some pregnant reader stuff as well?

It's fine if you don't it's just a silly little thought I have. Thx!

Gosh I love a good breeding kink! I hope you love it! Please leave feedback!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut! Mention of pregnancy. Breeding kink. Having a baby. Possessive Billy.

Pairing: Billy Loomis x fem!reader

You are mine

You would have never thought you'd end up like this. Never in a million years did you think your boyfriend of 3 years had a raging breeding kink. Yet when you told him to just fuck you raw when you two couldn't find a condom you could see something change in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" As much as he wanted this, he wanted to make sure that you knew what you were asking for. And you did. You weren't stupid. You knew it was risky. But you were so horny and really needed him. You laid on your back, as naked as Billy in front of you. He had been looking for condoms. You spread your legs wider, beckoning him back to you.

"Please Billy. Need you." Your eyes were pleading, trying to pull at Billy without much success. He in return threw his wallet to the side and stalked over to you. His eyes were as dark as you had ever seen them. As he got on top of you, you eagerly wrapped your legs around his waist. Billy's cock was already leaking precum.

He rubbed the tip over your glistening cunt, always pushing in a little but pulling back again, making you whine.

"Billy please... Please fuck me. Wanna feel you inside of me."

"Yeah? Want my bare cock inside of you? Letting me fuck you raw? That what you want?"

You nodded eagerly and clawed at his shoulders. He gave you a passionate kiss and with one swift movement he was inside of you. Your mouth dropped open, letting out a deep moan. It somehow felt much more intimate having him bare inside of you.

"Fuck you are so warm and soft." Billy's voice was impossbly deep. To be fair that was not the only thing that was deep.

He didn't give you much time to adjust as he started to move. Snapping his hips against yours.

"Never thought sex with you could get any better." His eyes were wild but you could barely keep yours open. He set a ruthless pace. His hair hung in his face and he looked at you with hunger. Only getting more ruthless as he looked between the two of you and saw his bare cock entering you over and over again.

"Fuck babe! Gonna fill you up real nice." The idea of Billy filling you with his hot cum made you clench around him. Billy grinned at that.

"Yeah you want that? Want me to fuck it in nice and deep? Get you pregnant?"

You whined at that, clenching even more around his dick.

"Oh you really want that. Fuck- gonna be all round and full with my baby. Gonna let everyone now that you are mine!" He quickend his pace.

"Billy-" Wanton moans escaping you. Your pussy squelching as Billy snapped into you over and over again. It was music to Billy's ears.

A particular hard thrust made you arch your back. "Fuck Billy!"

"You would look so good all pregnant!" He wasn't letting up. You didn't think he would be so keen on the idea of having a child with you. But the way he talked about it made you all hot inside. You felt like your whole body was aflame. It felt like he was everywhere all at once.

"Never gonna fuck you with a condom ever again. Gonna keep you full with my seed forever." Billy snapped his hips at a percise angle, making you see stars.

"Close! So close Billy!" You could feel yourself reaching your end. Just a little more.

Billy's hand moved between the two of you staring to rub circles on your clit. You let out a pathetic moan as your orgasm crashed through you, making your vision blurry. With a few more thrusts, Billy made good of his promise and came deep inside of you. A warmness spreading inside of you.

After coming down from both your highs he stayed put just a little longer than usual. As he puller out of you he watched intently as some of his cum spilled out of you. He groaned at the sight.

Then he went to spoon you from behind. One arm placed around your boobs his other hand placed on your lower stomach.

"Can't wait to see these swell." He queezed your boobs for emphasis.

"You really want that? A baby I mean."

"Course I do. Makes it all the harder for you to leave me." Billy's possessiveness was something you had noticed very early on in your relationship with him. It was hard to deal with sometimes, but you made it work.

"As if I would leave you." You turned your head and gave him a soft kiss.

"Yeah you better not, because you are mine." He pulled you closer as he said that, his grip tight around you. You nodded.

"All yours Billy."

This wasn't the last time you talked about the topic. And Billy never fucked you with a condom again, just like he promised. So it is no wonder that you ended up pregnant a few months later.

Ever since you told Billy that you were, in fact, pregnant he was seemingly horny 24/7. He couldn't keep his hands to himself. His possessiveness doubled as well. Someone just looked at you the wrong way and he was in the persons face.

It wasn't always easy especially when your hormones were all over the place. Billy knew how to put you in your place, as he likes to put it. Though you did fight from time to time, and you were the one apologising most of the time, you actually liked being pregnant with his baby.

Once you hit the 6 months mark you grew incredibly horny, much to Billy's delight. He has been eagerly waiting for this moment, as he might or might have not read a few books on pregnancies and babies. Of course every pregnancy was different, so Billy was delighted to know you were just as horny as he was now.

The sex was amazing as always. Billy's new obsession were your boobs. He had loved them before, obviously, but now that they became larger he couldn't help himself. Most times when you were sleeping you woke up with his hand on your boobs, his other holding your pregnant belly, as if to hold the baby.

During sex he loved to slap them, squeez them and litter them with hickeys. You told him time and time again to be more careful as they were far more sensitive now, but the guy just didn't listen. Like he ever did before.

He also started to call you "Mama", which both made you want him but also made your heart swell.

"You want a sandwich too, Mama?"

"Let me carry this for you Mama."

"Hey there sexy Mama."

You even heard him call you a Milf once, when he was talking to Stu.

And he never failed to make you feel so sexy, even on your worst days. Your favourite has been when he sat behind you, with you in front of a mirror, completely naked and legs spread wide. His hands were running over your curves, telling you how beautiful you are. How much he loves you and his baby inside of you. How amazing he thinks you are for growing a whole human being inside of you. And of course telling you how "bomb as fuck" your boobs were.

Once you were even further along, the sex didn't stop but you noticed Billy becoming a little softer with you during the act. He would always kiss your belly beforehand. Before he ravished you with his eager mouth, claiming that "Fuck you somehow taste even sweeter now." Or with his cock. He also loved trying new position that made you more comfortable, as you hated being on your back the bigger your belly got.

Once it was time for her to be born, Billy was freaking out on the inside but kept calm for you. He even insisted on being in the delivery room with you. It surprised you.

After the excruciating pain you went through, which was definitely worth it, you held your baby in your arms. A beautiful little girl, which Stu had said, looked like a wrinkly little piglet, as he came to visit. Billy had almost ripped his head off. Now after having fed her for the first time, with Billy watching you two like a hawk, she slept peacefully in your arms. You couldn't stop looking at her. She was the cutest thing you have ever seen. Billy had squeezed himself into the hospital bed with you, looking at his daughter.

"So when are we making the next one?" Billy couldn't even blink before you jabbed him with your elbow, hard. He let out a grunt but laughed anyway. He knows that as soon the doctor has cleared you for being able to have sex he would have you on your back in seconds. Especially knowing what cute babies you two make.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

my dear! I'm your fan, I love your writing. Thank you for taking us out of our reality and allowing us to enter a world of our own! Could I make a request for a crazy idea I had? An anguished Y/N and Chan fight and he tells her to leave and leave him alone. When Y/N leaves in a daze he doesn't see the car and is run over. In the end I trust you. =) If it doesn't bother you and you can fulfill my request, I would be very happy!

Can we turn back time?

Warnings: blood, tragic, angst, accident.

Summary: ^^ Requested

A/N: hey baby :) not the best :/ butttt I hope you like it. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

**

Her heart was beating at a fast pace. Why was he not understanding what she was trying to say?

“You always come home late Chan! I thought I could have this one night. This one night to ourselves but you chose to go drinking instead?!” She poured her heart out as she stared at her idol boyfriend.

“Please Y/n now now okay? I get you wanna talk but can I please just go to bed? We can talk about it tomorrow,” he pleaded as he put down his black leather jacket on the couch.

His curls sat neatly on his head and his black shirt fitting him perfectly and his jeans neatly ironed.

“Chan it feels like you don’t love me anymore!”

“Well maybe I don’t, okay?!” He got up and yelled. His anger was now full on visible as he aggressively slammed his hands on the table.

She stood there looking at him shocked. Tears pricking through her eyes. What was this mess?

His eyes softened as looked her scared figure. “I- I didn’t mean too,”

“Save it Chan.” She sobbed. Her hand was fiddling with her promise ring that Chan has gifted her on their 2 year anniversary. It was the most beautiful ring that she has laid her eyes on but as time went on she realized it was just a ring it was a stress reliever because anytime she was sad, frustrated, mad or confused she would play with the ring on her finger.

“Why can’t you see the things you keep doing hurt me Chan?” She sobbed and looked up at him. Praying that somehow she can find answers.

“I-“ he took a deep breathe trying to keep his own tears in, “I’m failing okay? Can you just leave me alone? Please?” He took a shaky breath before taking a step back and grabbing his jacket.

“Am I a burden now?” Her chest tightened. Chan couldn’t look at her. He had no courage, no strength.

“I’m going upstairs,” he simply said and walked past her.

She wanted to stop him, beg him to hold her, beg him to be there for her but the pain in her chest told her otherwise. She looked so silly, like a kicked puppy.

She wiped her tears and walked over to grab her shoes before leaving her house totally forgetting her phone and keys.

**

It was dark and cold. The sun had officially set and people were either out having dinner or rushing home from work.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad as she watched the couples sitting outside restaurants talking and laughing.

She felt empty, she felt deceived. Chan was the perfect boyfriend. He made sure of it but when they started becoming a hit he started slowly pushing her to the side leaving her at home and going out to drink and party or he would be locked up in the studio trying to make new songs.

She was lost without him. She had created her whole routine off of him and now she would wakeup every morning feelings lost not knowing what to do.

Her mind was runnning so fast that she couldn’t keep up. The tears in her eyes were were blurring her vision as she took quick steps to the park.

It wasn’t far. That was always her safe space. Everytime she would get overwhelmed or exhausted she would run away and hide behind the big old oak tree down by the river next to the park.

It was a little foggy, she couldn’t see anything but Chan’s loud voice kept playing in her head until she heard a loud screech. She looked to the side but it was too late. A painful scream left her body as she watched the car crash into her body.

She didn’t feel pain all she could hear was a ringing sound then a few sirens before everything went quiet.

**

“199 what is your emergency?”

“I-I crashed into someone, help! Please! I don’t know what to do-“

“Okay sir is she breathing? I need you to calm down and tell me what happened,”

“Y-yes she’s still breathing, I- I was driving and she just stepped infront of the car, I don’t know! It wasn’t my fault,” he sobbed as panic was filling his chest.

He looked down at the frail body, blood was everywhere and yet he still didn’t pass out. He tried to put pressure on the area that was bleeding the most but it wasn’t working. Blood was still gushing out of her.

She looked familiar tho, he thought.

“Sir, I’ve sent an ambulance. I just need you to keep breathing and tell me if she stops breathing. Keep your hand on the wound,” the dispatcher kept telling him over and over again.

“Oh God this is a lot of blood. Please God, please don’t let her die,” he whispered as he looked up at the car that was parked by them.

It felt like hours until he felt like who could breathe. He heard the sirens. They were here. The paramedics were finally here.

**

“C’mon Y/n please pick up,” Chan cursed at himself as he walked back and forth in the living room.

He was now in sweatpants and a hoodie. His hair wet from the shower.

When he had come downstairs he saw no sight of Y/n and at first he thought that maybe she had gone for a breather so he decided to do some work knowing that she wouldn’t pick up his phone even if he had tried to call so he just chose to distract himself.

He felt guilty for the fight they had. It was chewing him alive but he knew it was his fault and he needed to make it up. As time kept passing by; 30 minutes turned into 2 hours.

He started to feel uneasy so he decided to try her phone but she wasn’t picking. He called all the boys at the dorm asking if she was with them but they said they hadn’t seen her then he called her bestfriend and she too hadn’t seen her. That’s when the panic started to set in.

He called her phone over and over again while making sure to text her too. He rushed upstairs to grab his crocs and that’s when he saw her phone on the night stand table.

“Shit, Y/n,” he groaned and rubbed his eyes before grabbing his car keys.

He put on his crocs and rundown the stairs and that’s when he got a call from his manager.

“What is it Soon-hoo, I can’t really-“

“Chan we need to get to the hospital now,” he said in a panic. Chan’s blood went cold as he could hear shuffling in the background.

“W-what is it? What happened?!” He managed to say.

“It’s Y/n Chan,” Chan’s senses came to a hold. Everyhting around him felt like it was moving in slow motion, “she got run over Chan, I’m coming to pick you up,” their manager said as he started the car.

All Chan could hear was a ringing sound as he stared at the blank floor. Tears running down his cheeks as his heart was beating faster.

______

Don’t forget to reblog😋

[onlyrains]

[5:21pm]

genre: comfort, fluff wc: 1.1k ┊not proofread!

you are nothing near from being the greatest singer of the century, to begin with. you're not even a singer at all. but layla, a border collie of your best friend's–jake, might be your first fan ever.

whenever she sees you around in some comfortable circumstances, she's never hesitate to lay down beside you and sometimes even rest her jaw on your thigh. on top of that, one day when jake come to your place to check on you while you lay sick on your bed, she also lies and put her paw on your arm.

she keeps ignoring her nature as one of the most active and energetic breed and you have a soft spot for her also. so of course, you always gladly sing for her. you even made a playlist to sing for her, which full of coldplay's old songs that you found she loves the most.

as an owner, jake found this quite beneficial sometimes when he needs to done his things but very much confused at the same time. what's up with your voice? he's a good singer too. people even recognize him for that. but why's his dog, his best buddy, his love, never react the way she does for you?

"she's my child, jake." you always say.

"stop saying that. i literally clean, do the chores, and work for her?" and he always replies.

today, as he promised yesterday, he came to your place with layla. and no, you're not sick today, it's apparently the opposite. he arrived with a pissed, frustrated face and refuse to talk fifteen minutes ago. he's just walks around your living room with his disheveled white office shirt.

you continue to read your book while playing with layla's hair and humming to coldplay's song. you make sure to open your bedroom door widely to let him know that he can come in when he's ready. it's not the first time you've seen jake in this state and you know the best way to deal with it is just let him do anything he wants. he will talk about it when he's tired.

speaking of which, the tail of your eye catches his movement towards you. well, maybe it is a very serious matter since he has never got tired this quick.

"what's up?" you snap, closing your book on your stomach. layla got up at your sudden movement as she sees her owner walks in your direction. she jumps on the floor and her favorite song is now long gone.

"jake?" he sits on layla's spot earlier and lets out a deep sigh.

"it's work." his eyes looking at the white sheets beneath him and draw an imaginary circle with his index.

"i know. wanna talk about it?"

he drags his body to lay next to you, head burried in your pillow while his arms stretched out to his side and your neck, almost choking you.

"i don't know, girl. i'm just... tired."

"is it that bad?" you ask carefully.

he nods. "there's a problem with the project and this mf blame me for it," he groans. thank god your pillow muffled his voice.

"oh? what a prick."

"can you sing for me?" he raises his head.

you never turn your head so fast.

"what?" you blurt out a laugh.

he lies on his side, perfectly facing you. "oh, c'mon. you always make layla chill out with it."

"but you're not layla?"

"i'm her owner, you know. she's my daughter. like father like dau–"

"okay, stop. you started sound silly,"

"babe, c'mon. i just need to sleep. you know how much effort i put on this project? i barely had a proper sleep,"

as soon as that pet name came out of his mouth you know it's hard to win over him. he will starts pleading as soon as he can, so you let out a heavy sigh and stretch out your arm reluctantly.

"c'mere,"

the next thing you know, he already burried his head on your shoulder. well, actually, this is your first time being this close with him in this kind of position despite your nth years of friendship.

so when he’s seemingly already found his spot on the crook of your neck, you can't help but squirm a little, but jake is too quick to catch your waist to prevent you from moving anywhere.

"don't move." he says against your neck.

you bite your inner cheek to hold back a sharp gasp that almost come out of nowhere.

you take a deep breath before placing your hand on his head, brushing his hair lightly. you decide to continue to sing to spark, which was previously forcibly cut off.

"my heart is yours," you start to whisper.

"it's you that i hold on to,

that's what i do,

and i know i was wrong,

but i won't let you down,

mmm, yeah, i will, yeah, i will, yes, i will," your voice get slightly lower.

"i said, oh,

i cry, oh,

yeah, i saw sparks,

yeah, i saw sparks." you massage his scalp lightly.

"sing it out,

la la la la la la,"

you feel his breathing becomes steady while in fact he's just enjoying his action to inhaling your scent that mixed with a soft fragrant from your newly washed sweater. he has never been this relax in a long time.

you keep on with the lyrics in humming as your eyes glued to the plain ceiling of your room. you feel his arm is still lazily attached to your waist then what are you doing, really? is it normal to cuddle your friend from high school? is it okay to comfort your guy friend like this?

you haven't finished think about that but jake already raised his head.

his eyes slightly red from the drowsiness that suddenly hit him but the smile on his mouth is as wide as ever. "y'know, layla actually has a good taste."

a heat suddenly strikes your cheek, causing it to turn to a shade of red.

his head turns to his dog on the floor. "dang, my girl is talented, for real."

you roll your eyes at him. "okay, now move."

he's quick to back on his previous spot, even more suffocating right now as he pulls you impossibly close to his body.

he tilts his head upward to face you. his wet eyes stares at you so innocently, which quite opposite to his actions that practically hugging you so tight while trying to sleep.

"ey, c'mon, don't be so stingy," he snuggles to you, again.

you bite your lip this time. maybe you just as tired as him, but you swear, you saw the sparks.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Michael kesselring and ‘breathe babe’

As a babe with anxiety I feel like Michael could totally turn that usual silly/goofiness off in favour of being a supportive boyfriend. Boy has the soothing tone down pat. I really enjoy these dialogue prompts :) TW: Panic attack

Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

You're not entirely sure what triggers it. Maybe it's just the overwhelming sights and sounds of the game finally catching up to you, maybe it's the crowds, the push and shove as you try to make your way to the locker room, to Michael. Maybe you're just having one of those moments, one of those days. Too many things over time finally adding up and boiling over.

Whatever the cause you find yourself stumbling towards where you know Michael is, adrenaline rushing through your veins as the sounds around you seem to dim like you're underwater. You feel physically sick, overheated and vomitus. Your chest feels tight like someone is sitting on it, breaths uneven and heavy, laboured like you've run a mile.

All it takes is Cooley to get a single glance of you, the ashy pallor to your skin, the labouring of your breaths, the sweat on your skin before he rushes off to find Michael. It feels like an age before you see him, before he turns up, when in reality it's mere seconds.

He's crowding you against the wall, pushing your shoulders to lean against it for support, his large hands cupping your cheeks and drawing your gaze up to his big brown eyes.

"Breathe, babe...just breathe for me, baby," He looks so worried and you want to do what he says, you really do, but it's so hard. Like breathing is a task, a chore. Your body is acting on instinct, a flight or fight response and no matter how hard you try you can't seem to slow your breathing down, can't seem to get enough air.

Michael surrounds you, looming over you and boxing you in in a way that drowns out everyone and everything else, there's nothing but Michael. Nothing but the way he surrounds you, nothing but his cologne, the sound of his voice, the way one of his hands brushes your cheek, the way his other rests against your throat, thumb pressing under your jaw.

Your hands find his chest, flat palmed as his heart beats steady and certain underneath, as his lungs expand and contract with each slow, calm breath.

"You're okay, baby, just breathe with me, okay? Just copy me, angel."

You close your eyes tight, focusing on the way his chest rises and falls, trying to copy it to the best of your ability. It takes a while for your heart rate to come back down, for your breathing to regulate, for you to feel somewhat normal, but even then you don't feel okay. You feel fragile, delicate like a strong wind might blow you over.

"You okay?" You open your eyes again, frowning up at Michael because he's so worried, big brown eyes full of concern, fingers stroking your skin gently like you might break. You hate it because he should be celebrating a win right now, not dealing with this from you. A stupid panic attack that you can't even explain.

"No...'m sorry..." You rest your head on his chest, cheek pressing in as your arms wrap around his back and hold on tight like he's the one remaining anchor you have left.

"It's okay, it happens, baby. It's not your fault." He cards his fingers through your hair, the sensation soothing even as you grumble that you've messed up his evening.

"I ruined your game..."

"You didn't ruin anything, baby. It's all good, you wanna go home? Cuddle the cats?" Yeah, maybe, he could have gone out with the guys, had a drink or two to celebrate but he doesn't need to. To be honest he doesn't want to either, not when he knows you're struggling, not when he can see that you feel guilty about it all.

"Yes please..."

"Okay, give me a 5 minutes to change and we'll go, okay? Then you can eat like an entire tub of ice cream and cuddle the cats, baby."

He meant it when he said he'd only be 5 minutes, the quickest change Michael has ever done in his life, but he manages it with the sort of efficiency born from necessity. Before you know it you're home, bundled on the couch, one cat purring in your lap, the other sat on the back of the couch nibbling on your hair while you down a tub of ice-cream and lean against Michael.

You hate panic attacks, but you love that Michael can be the steady, strong, stable rock in a turbulent sea. That you can come home and have this to ease you back down.

[holyblonded]

Oh I just read that headcanon about Azul and we all know that she has a hard time adjusting to having responsible and caring adults around her, so it's very emotional, learning how to be loved and all that.

But I wonder if she ever has a hard time adjusting to having someone actually parenting her? Like maybe silly stuff at the beginning, like...olga telling her that she can't pull an all-nighter and azul is like??? No one ever told me what i should and shouldn't do?

So she's like a bit resistant to that too, and estrella is like "oh she talking back to olga?!" And alexia is like "yep, wanna go get something to eat before it gets ugly?"

omg yes 😭

estrella’s laid out on the couch, half-watching some terrible netflix reality show when it starts.

azulita, sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop open, has been working on an assignment for hours. she’s cranky, earbuds in, tapping her pencil against the table like it personally offended her.

olga’s standing nearby, arms crossed, binder still in hand (because of course she made a school binder too, she’s insane like that), and she says, real calm, “azul, it’s midnight. time to close it and go to bed.”

estrella peeks over the couch back just in time to see azul’s head snap up.

“i’m not done,” azulita says, like it’s obvious.

olga doesn’t budge. “you’ll finish it tomorrow after school. you need sleep.”

“i have to finish it,” azulita insists, stubborn. you can see it in her eyes, the twitchy little panic.

olga, still calm but firm, says, “you don’t have to do anything at the expense of your health. close it. bed.”

and azulita. god bless her. she talks back.

“you’re not my—” she starts, loud, defensive, halfway standing up.

estrella sits straight up, eyes wide. “oh she talking back to olga?!”

from behind her, ale’s voice drifts in like a casual breeze. “yep,” she says, like this is a national geographic documentary. “wanna go get something to eat before it gets ugly?”

estrella whips her head around. ale’s already heading toward the door like she’s clocking out of work. you scramble after her because you’ve seen olga mad before and you’d rather not be collateral damage.

meanwhile, azulita’s still frozen, realizing mid-sentence who she’s talking to. olga’s eyebrows are up, binder tucked against her chest like a shield, and she says, very quietly, very seriously, “finish that sentence.

and azulita, to her credit, does not. she clamps her mouth shut, cheeks turning bright red. her whole body looks stiff, like she wants to run but also cry but also yell.

olga softens a little, stepping closer, lowering her voice. “i know you’re used to nobody caring. but i care. we care. and when i say you need to sleep, it’s because you matter. not because i’m trying to control you. okay?”

azulita blinks really fast, nods once. the fight drains right out of her. she closes her laptop without another word.

estrella and ale peek around the corner, watching it all unfold like spies.

“she’s good,” ale murmurs, impressed.

“yeah,” estrella saya, stuffing a cookie into your mouth. “she’s scary but like…in a loving way.”

they hear azulita mumble an apology and olga ruffles her hair, ushering her toward the stairs like nothing happened. like being cared for and set limits is the most normal thing in the world.

ale bumps estrella’s shoulder as she passes her. “you’re next,” she teases.

she scowl, mouth full of crumbs. “i don’t even do anything!”

[sugar-omi]

Before I say anything else, I swear to god I’m not a purist or one of those weirdos who value virginity or think premarital sex is wrong

BUT do you think Rockstar Cove would feel bad (not exactly guilty, unless you like him pathetic like that like I do, but more like regret) about being a hoe before meeting MC? Like yeah he fucked around a lot for fun but now he knows none of it could measure up to doing it with MC, who he would literally move heaven and earth and kill his lifelong dream for and his first time would’ve been so different if it was with the one he loved

Bonus if MC is a virgin because I think that would definitely make him feel guilty for not “waiting” for them and not “giving” them his first time (again, not for religious reasons or anything, just because of emotional intimacy)

I love torturing him and wanna see him in distress hahaha 😈

first of all- SAME. i feel like, i might come across as religious sometimes, all imma say is dont ask me SHIT abt the bible or religion or anything. i fell asleep every time i went to chruch and god is SICK of me using his name in my filthy smut fics, i know it

BUT OMG YES. this this this...

i like to imagine he doesn't sleep around too much, he needs a bit of a connection for that, plus he's a celebrity so he can't sleep around nearly as much unless he's trying to get a fan pregnant or get a new stalker. so his body count isn't through the roof, but it certainly isn't low...

but he is at the very least a flirt. he'll flirt with you up and down the street, maybe even eat you out/suck you off, and if you're really lucky, get your back blown the fuck out.

when he meets MC though... all of that is over the second you make eye contact. he's obsessed with you, cant get you out of his head and he needs to see you again, needs to hear your voice and your laugh... he's totally done for, all he wants is you now and he's never felt like that before...

doesn't really know how to act because he hasn't been a long-term or one-person man until now but he absolutely cannot let you go.

if you've never been in a relationship before, it's been awhile since your last date, or only in one or two relationships that were more or less serious, he's anxious about being perfect for you.

he doesn't wanna scare you off, as if his fame and public image isn't bad enough.

oh my god if he learns you're a virgin though... he's dead. his heart has stopped...

immediately asks if you're serious, and what the fuck, and now he's worried you won't wanna have sex with him, would you trust him to take your v-card? has he slept with too many people for you to be comfortable with sleeping with him? is or would he be taking advantage of you? what if you hate having sex with him?

he's spiraling. he's thinking too many thoughts and its up to you to bring him down and tell him that you trust him, you wanna have sex with him and you are sure you won't hate it.

omg when he tells you how he wishes he could've given you his virginity, that he wishes he waited for you. you have to laugh, he's so silly... because how was he supposed to know that he was gonna meet the love of his life? if he knew, would he have believed it and waited or laughed and went about his business?

when you do finally decide to have sex... cove goes the full 9 yards, takes you on a lovely vacation, buys you anything and everything you look at twice, gets the most expensive hotel room he can find and spoils you absolutely rotten.

has the lights down low, candles lit and flickering gently along the absurdly luxurious room and he takes care of you.. slowly undressing you, kissing every inch of skin and whispering sweet nothings.

pulls you apart with his tongue again and again until you're weak and trembling, begging him to hurry up and just move onto the good part...

he doesn't fuck you, he makes love to you. it's all so sweet and intimate that even he can't help but feel like it's his first time again, his heart beating nervously and he's a bit shaky, moving automatically in ways he knows from experience.

he would cry, he has his arms around you, hardly moving his hips in a way that's satisfying to your long aching body because he's so intent on being gentle with you, treasuring you and tending to you...

cries and tells you how much he loves you, how much he treasures you and that he'll take care of you forever. that you're his soulmate, begs you drunkenly not to leave him and be his forever, to stay with him and love him and let him love you and spoil you. that he'll give you everything he has, materially, mind, body, and soul, everything is yours.

he promises that you're the only one for him now, that no one else will or could ever take your place and that he's always going to be yours in the end.

if this is what your first time is like.. jesus fucking christ, imagine him proposing to you.

[bloodyinkandquill]

Mach x Reader (HEHEHEHHE)

first off I have very strong opinions on this being a Mach self shipper so this is self indulgent

- So first off, Mach gets misscharacterized far too much, she’s serious sure but she’s also got a silly caring side!!

- When you first get together she remains pretty stoic, wanting to take things slow, though with her perception of time being warped beyond recognition how slow it really is really depends

- She’s fine with basic PDA but she doesn’t want anything extreme, holding hands, kiss on the cheek when others are around is about as much as she wants

- However in private Mach can be very touchy, as long as you’re ok with it, she doesn’t like being touched but she’s also touch starved and your touch feels different, a good different

- Hugging, cuddling, snuggling, kisses all over, she loved being close to you, though she is afraid of hurting you due to how strong she is, also with her height she’s completely fine being big spoon but every one in a while she does wanna feel small and be held

- Her love language is probably quality time, she doesn’t mind what yours is but to her just doing things with you, or just being in the same room doing different things but together feels so soft and sweet to her

- Not big on pet names, maybe one or two either basic or one specific one she gives to you, and on her she’s fine with them but does think just hearing you say her name is more romantic, speaking of her name she doesn’t mind if you call her Mach or if you call her Carolina but sometimes she does prefer Carolina as it’s a more reserved and personal name

- Mach gives you such interesting and peculiar gifts, flowers you’ve never heard of, an artifact that gives you maybe good luck or keeps you safe, she gives you things ‘as unique as you’ in her words

- She doesn’t need to sleep as much as you, so she’s fine working on things in a chair by your bed, every few nights she may join you, even if she doesn’t actually sleep, just holds you closely but carefully

- Honestly Mach is not a great cook, if you can cook however she eats whatever it is, you being able to cook would be so endearing to her, again she doesn’t need to eat as much as you but that isn’t to say she can’t eat, if you want her to eat a meal with you, she will

- Danger? Don’t know em! She will never let anything hurt you, she’s very cautious, and a little too protective some times, she’s worried to let you board the elevator because you could get hurt, same with running any of the courses, but she trusts you even if she’s anxious, if you do get hurt she goes full mother hen, your a mortal she sometimes forgets how much an injury would truly affect you, so a simple scrape can make her panic

- On that note Mach’s protective of who goes around you, MR is anywhere near you she teleports you away before destroying him. Then certain floors she’s very cautious of due to their inhabitants such as Shop Space as Enphoso can be violent, or Funny Maze as Scary Mike hurts people who enter his residence

- Takes you on whatever date you want, you wanna see a pretty planet? You were on course yesterday. Nice dinner out? Reservations been there for weeks. Go to the beach? She’s found you two a secluded spot no one else will bother you and a swimsuit that fits you perfectly in a matter of seconds.

- Please put your body weight on her, it helps ground her and makes her feel close to you, and she doesn’t have to worry about hurting you if you’re the one on her

- Due to all the shit Mach’s been through sometimes she needs your help to return to reality or just needs to cry in your arms, she misses her siblings a lot and is still terrified of her great grandfather so she needs comfort sometimes

that was a lot longer than i intended, hell i still have more to say, do please let me know if you want more Mach head canons!

[markleessodalite]

Your House: n.jm

content: still reeling from your sudden breakup with Jaemin, and against your better judgement, you find yourself entering his apartment when he's not home.

warnings: angst, no happy ending, fem!reader, maybe stalkerish vibes? reader enters Jaemin's home without him knowing so huge invasion of privacy, reader is lowk creepy in this and i do not encourage this behavior!! don't do this

word count: 1.9k

a/n: i literally have a list of wips that i'm trying to get done... and yet... i wrote this in an hour instead. But writing in this style and using the lyrics in this way is actually really fun and i feel like i wanna do it again lol

Currently Listening: Your House- Alanis Morrissette

“I went to your house, walked up the stairs, and opened the door without ringing the bell”

You didn’t miss how his neighbor, the cute old lady who always gave him leftover breads she baked for her children’s visits, watched you in confusion as you approached his door. Even she knew you didn’t belong here anymore. As much as she seemed to like you, always telling Jaemin he finally found a good one, always gushing about how cute you two were when you held hands all the way down the stairs. Even she thought it was strange you were here now. But, much to your surprise, she didn’t try to stop you. She didn’t say “he’s not home right now” or ask “what are you thinking” or “silly girl, what are you doing to yourself? This will only hurt you more. Go home.” Maybe she expected you to have enough sense to stop yourself. 

“I shouldn’t be here, without permission, I shouldn’t be here” 

But nothing could stop you at this point. You didn’t put much thought into this, or any thought for that matter. You were tired of thinking. Of trying to figure out why things ended the way they did. Why it had to end at all. You didn’t want to think. You had been thinking and overthinking so much the past few months, and yet not thinking at all when you found yourself making your way to Jaemin’s apartment. 

The fact you remembered the code to unlock his door, after all these months of never stepping foot anywhere near this building. The familiar click as it shuts behind you. Kicking your shoes off, leaving them neatly beside his shoe shelf, because you remember how it annoyed him when you left them in a pile by the door. 

Even the cats look at you strangely. They don’t jump from their resting spots to rub their slender bodies against your legs like they used to. Jaemin liked taking videos of the cats greeting you that way. You wonder how long it took him to delete them. 

“I took off my clothes, put on your robe, went through your drawers and I found your cologne” 

You slipped out of your oversized t-shirt and baggy jeans, laying them neatly on Jaemin’s bed. The bed where you shared so much of yourself with him. He told you once, out of the blue, he loved when you wore baggy clothes. You looked so cute, and he liked being the only one who had seen what was underneath them. You realize you still have so many of his shirts in your closet. Maybe if you were a little less hurt you would have brought them with you to return them. 

But if you were any less hurt, you wouldn’t be here anyway. 

You shed your body of your underwear, which now join the rest of your clothing on the bed. You grab Jaemin’s robe off the door of his attached bathroom. Before tying it, you rummage through his dresser drawers to find his bottle of Invictus. You weren’t even sure if he still had it– it wasn’t a scent he usually wore until you mentioned how much you loved it on him. How you could happily drown in the scent of him when he would apply it and then pull you in for a tight hug. 

He still has the bottle. Its a little less than half-full, the same way it looked before the break-up. Has he not used it since? 

You spray it on the inside of the robe and tie it tightly around you, the woodsy scent overflowing your senses and flooding your mind with memories of laying bare in his bed, head on his chest and legs intertwined as the smell of that cologne lingered on his skin after a day’s wear. 

“I shouldn’t stay long, you might be home soon, I shouldn’t stay long”

It won’t take long. You promised yourself. You didn’t need much. You just needed a moment, just to remember, just to have one last feeling of comfort and familiarity. One last feeling of what was ripped from you so abruptly. Maybe you were blind, maybe you just didn’t notice, but apparently he had noticed enough for him to break up with you without warning. Three years of love, down the drain before you could turn the water off. The person you loved for three years, gone from in front of you in the blink of an eye. Apparently he didn't want you here anymore. You won’t stay long. He doesn’t want you here. 

“Would you forgive me love, if I stay all afternoon?” 

… even so, a little part of you demands to be treated better. You deserve more than that. You deserve to stay as long as you want, to stay until you feel some sort of closure that Jaemin denied you. 

“I burned your incense, I ran a bath, I noticed a letter that sat on your desk”

After sitting on his bed, staring at nothing, letting your mind wander to far away places, your skin felt dry from the tears seeping into your cheeks and drying like the sparse rainfall in a desert. You rub your eyes, run a hand through your hair, not remembering when you last washed it. Your eyes won’t stop brimming with tears, which you blame on the smell of the cologne. You’ve found it so hard to focus since Jaemin left you. Most of your days have been consumed by episodes of spacing out, thinking about nothing except the sinking feeling in your stomach and the tiredness behind your eyes. The black cloud that hangs over your head, the rain falling from it saturating your mind, leaving you incapable of concerning yourself with anything that requires more than a moment’s thought. Jaemin used to compliment you on how well you multitask, but it seems these days, if you could even focus at all, it would only be on one thing that threatened to end the world if it wasn’t attended to. 

And right now, the only earth-shattering thought on your mind was the desperate need to drown out the smell of this cologne, seeped in too many memories. 

You make your way to the end table next to the bathroom door, opening the box where he keeps his extensive incense collection. You were never really a fan of incense; they all smelled the same to you, and smelled way too strong. But right now, their usage was more of necessity than desire. Jaemin was always kind enough not to burn them if you were coming over. 

You go to his bathtub, the absence of your shampoo and body wash feeling like a punch to the gut. How quickly did he discard them? He always insisted he didn't mind keeping some of your things at his place. “You’re here so much anyway you might as well move in completely,” he’d say. Yet here you stand, in his robe, using his comb to detangle your hair, your own toiletries nowhere in sight. 

You watch as the water fills the tub. You liked taking baths at Jaemin’s place. Your cheap apartment’s bathroom wasn’t big enough for a decent sized tub. Compared to that, Jaemin’s apartment always felt luxurious. You continue to blink back tears, refusing to let them fall. Your eyes themselves felt exhausted from months of constant crying. Sometimes secret sobs, other times bone-crushing, breath-stealing, blinding fits of wailing that left your throat hoarse. 

You walk around as you wait for the tub to fill, hoping to distract yourself by focusing on the movement of your legs. You wonder if there was any of his neighbor’s bread in the kitchen. She usually made sweet breads. You don’t feel like eating anything sweet. You’re reminded again of the fact you shouldn’t even be here. Shouldn’t be in his robe, wasting his cologne, using his bath. Everything here belongs to him, and he doesn’t belong to you anymore. You have no right to be annoyed that his neighbor didn’t make savory bread. 

You make your way back to the tub, noticing a letter that occupies his otherwise tidy desk. A small strip of clear tape at the top attaches it to the surface, as if he wants to be reminded of its contents. You turn off the faucet, steam rising from the scalding water, before curiosity pulls you back to your former lover’s desk. 

The letter is signed with a heart at the bottom, no name. It must be obvious who its from. It strikes you that it could very well be from you. You often signed with just a simple heart– writing your name was wasted time when he always knew who it was from. Your heart flutters at the idea of Jaemin keeping a letter from you, the same way it fluttered when you saw he kept a small note from you in his wallet but never told you. Maybe he still has that note in his wallet. Maybe he still has a lot of your things. Maybe he just used your bodywash and shampoo until it ran out, maybe he wanted to smell you. Maybe he just kept your things in a box in the closet so he could pull it out easily whenever he wanted to remember. Maybe he kept this letter from you because maybe the breakup was just a fluke. Maybe he was missing you just as much as you missed him. 

You run your fingers over the letter, failing to stop yourself from reading.

“Jaemin, my dear, you know how much I love you, right? Sometimes I feel like I could drown in it. Won’t you meet me after work tonight? I know we just saw each other days ago, but I can’t help myself from missing you.” 

You felt sick to your stomach.

It wasn’t your handwriting. 

“It wasn’t my writing, I better go, it wasn’t my writing”

You step back from his desk, almost falling onto his bed behind you. 

It wasn’t your letter.

You sit on his bed, ball your fists in your lap, swallowing back your spit until your mouth dried out. You bit your lip until the chapped skin bled.

It wasn’t your letter. 

As it seems to have done so often lately, your body switches to autopilot. Your wobbly legs carry you to the bathtub, yanking the drain up to let the water escape. You throw his combs back into his mirror cabinet. You tear off his robe, hastily hanging it back on the door, throwing your t-shirt on as you run to his closet.

It wasn’t your letter.

You pull a pair of his sweatpants out of the drawer, pulling them on in place of your own jeans, wadding the jeans up with your forgotten underwear in a sloppy ball of fabric to carry under your arm. You blow out the incense in one swift breath, hoping Jaemin won’t notice that your fallen tears had soaked the ends of some of the sticks. You pass the desk with the letter to get to his dresser.

The letter. It wasn’t your letter.

You grab the bottle of Invictus and tuck it into your wadded clothing. 

You pass the cats on your way to the door, their once warm and playful eyes now coldly staring at you as if you were a stranger invading their home. You slip your shoes on and quickly let yourself out, the slamming of the door stealing the attention of the elderly neighbor again. You could have sworn she said your name, softly, concerned, but your vision was blurred, and your mind was focused on getting back to your car. 

It wasn’t your letter.

“So forgive me love, if I cry all afternoon”