#I've been letting it grow out and now it's shoulder length so I have to make the most of this

[rotisseries]

contemplating getting the tiktok masc/90s boyband heartthrob/jo from muna haircut rn....

[darklight-owl]

By far the best form of motivation to work on my Descosplay is the fact my hair is now the perfect length to make bread hair.

[magicalqueennightmare]

The Hybrid's Little Witch

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Just a one shot of Klaus and his little witch giving into their feelings

Fluffy (ish) smut

“Don't you fucking turn your back on me!” You were so angry you were nearly shaking. You could feel your powers rolling just under your skin, threatening to slip out but you maintained your hold on it, telling yourself no matter the anger you held that the hybrid in front of you was indeed friend not foe. 

Klaus spun to face you and a part of you was surprised to have blue eyes looking back at you. You'd expected the golden eyes of his beast to be looking back at you. “Why are you even still in New Orleans? You did your job little witch. Hayley and Hope are safe, any coven that was a threat to them have been eliminated”

“I don't answer to you Klaus and you don't own New Orleans. Hayley called me here to help protect her daughter or are you forgetting she's one third witch? She needs someone here to help with all aspects of who she is as she grows and Freya shouldn't be forced to stay in one place. I'm not leaving”

In a single heartbeat he was in front of you, hands on either side of your head effectively boxing you in if you didn't want to use your powers on him. A portion of your brain registered the fact that you had a wall at your back and a hybrid in front of you but the majority of your brain refused to cower. 

He wanted anger, wanted rage, you'd give it to him. While it was true things had calmed down but after everything you knew being complacent was a mistake. He leaned down close enough that his lips nearly brushed your ear as he spoke “Her daughter? Are you forgetting that Hope is my daughter as well?” 

You turned to look at him noticing how close your faces were before raising your chin defiantly to look him dead in the eye “and are you forgetting the number of times I've risked my life to ensure she was born, to ensure she stays alive and healthy? I'm owed a little slack even from you”

Damn him a smirk slipped onto his face as he said “Is that it little witch? You think I haven't shown you proper respect?” The last year came crashing down onto you at that moment, every time you'd faced a new threat, every moment you'd swallowed the pain so Hayley wouldn't know what protecting her and Hope was doing to you and every ounce of loneliness you'd felt your entire life mixed in with your anger. Anger that was now pointed at Klaus whether it was earned or not.

Your magic uncurled without you having to think about it and he stumbled back from you as if he'd been tased, hand splayed out across his chest. You felt a surge of pride mixed with a tiny bit of tension leaving your shoulders despite knowing you may very well be about to fight with the father of your best friend's child, the hybrid you were so damn attracted to yet refused to act on it.

“You haven't Klaus. I've done nothing but fight for your family since the moment I stepped foot in New Orleans. Yet you walk around like I'm a pet Hayley picked up and dragged home. I may not be as old as your family but I've seen hundreds of years pass. I could be anywhere in the world and I chose to be here. I get it, your past dealings with witches have been shit but I'm owed the respect I've earned even if you fucking hate me”

He rubbed his chest a moment and your eyes flickered towards the length of skin that showed from the unbuttoned henley, the long expanse of his neck and the curve of his collarbone distracting you. Jesus christ, the reasoning behind Hayley getting pregnant was crystal clear but you and he were hardly friends. He hated witches and that's what you were.

Another smirk slipped onto his face and he shook his head “That's where you're wrong, love. I don't hate you”  you scoffed not letting your guard down but curious as well “How am I wrong?” He took a step towards you and you shook your head so he stopped, holding both hands up to say he wasn't coming any closer. “I don't hate you. Quite the opposite in fact”

You let just enough of your magic seep out to make the air in the room thicken just slightly “Cut the shit Klaus and say what you mean” he looked you up and down before running his thumb across his bottom lip “I've been trying to ignore how much I want my child's Godmother” 

You felt your stomach flip “What?” He shrugged “You're beautiful, Intelligent, lovely with Hope. The fact that you're absolutely dangerous just adds to the allure. Hell if Elijah hadn't fallen for Hayley and Kol wasn't head over heels for a witch himself I'd have to fight them for your attention more so than I do as you being their friend”

“So, what baiting me into argument after argument was your form of flirting?” You zapped him again from pure frustration and he growled before moving faster than any other vampire you'd seen. He had you backed against a wall with your arms pinned over your head and was staring into your eyes “Tell me one time you don't want me as much as I want you little witch. That's all it takes” 

Your chest was heaving like you'd run a marathon and you knew he could hear your heartbeat but in that moment you didn't care to be embarrassed of it. He was right, you wanted him. “And if I do want you?” You asked with a slight smile. He returned your smile before saying “Then I do this” he caught your lips in a bruising kiss, flicking his tongue against yours and swallowing the moan that the action pulled out of you.

You struggled to free your hands but his grip held tight. He pulled back to look at your eyes “Tell me what you want” you swallowed twice before saying “I want you to fuck me Klaus, hard” the smile he gave you made heat shoot straight to your stomach “Thought you'd never ask” in one fluid motion he released your hands and scooped you up into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

—----------

You hooked your arms around his neck and he moved from your lips down across your jaw then to the sensitive flesh of your neck. He rolled his hips against yours and a gasp left you at feeling his hardening cock through the layers of jeans between it and your sensitive core. When he bit down just below your pulse point you moaned, fingers digging into his shoulders “Bed Klaus. You're not fucking me against a door dammit”

He chuckled against your skin “See? That dominating side of you. Can't wait to have you begging underneath me” You glared at him “I swear on everything” in a blur of movement he was up on the stairs and in his bedroom kicking the door shut with his foot then putting you down on your feet but backing you against the door in the same fluid motion. 

He was everywhere, lips and teeth teasing your neck and jaw, hands roaming across what of your body he could reach while his hips rutted into yours pulling low moans from you at the action.  One hand slid up to wrap around your throat as his mouth claimed yours. Your hands found his chest, clawing at his shirt, begging for more access to him “Eager are we?” He teased before leaning back from you enough to pull his shirt over his head and tossed it behind him. 

He reached for your shirt but stopped with his hands just shy of it. He glanced at your face for permission and the moment you nodded he pulled the shirt over your head and a grin slipped onto his face that made your knees weaken “Oh I'm going to enjoy this”  another quick kiss to your lips then he moved to your neck, biting down on the spot he previously had which made you moan his name.

—----------

Instead of stopping he continued down, when he got to your still clothed breasts he reached behind you with one hand. You felt the clasp give before your bra was pulled from your body and tossed somewhere in the room. He reached for one of your breasts, teasing the nipple between his fingertips. Your breath was already coming in fast pants. It'd been a little too long since you had sex and the feelings that the hybrid was bringing out of you with so little action so far was a bit alarming.

When he lowered his mouth to the other one, your back arched off the door. He barely grazed your nipple with his teeth but you felt your legs quiver. “Love, when was the last time someone touched you? Other than your own hands?” He murmured and you closed your eyes in an attempt to slow your breathing “Before I came to New Orleans”

You half expected to see teasing in his eyes when you opened yours but instead there was a hunger there “Then I'll have to make sure you're satisfied” you weren't sure what he meant before he sank to his knees in front of you. “Klaus” you tried to find your voice but he simply tapped your left leg “Lift your foot”

—------------

Within moments your boots and jeans were off your body leaving you in just a simple pair of black lace panties. “May I?” He asked and you nodded. He slid them off your legs and smiled up at you and gods the heat that flooded throughout your body at that moment could've torched the states between Louisiana and the Atlantic. 

He dropped one of your legs over his shoulders before his head dipped between your thighs. The first swipe of his tongue was tentative, testing. When your fingers burying themselves in his hair was the answer he dove in. He was like a man starved and he meant to devour you to feed the hunger. 

When his teeth grazed your clit you would've collapsed had it not been for his grip on you “Oh fuck Klaus” he added two fingers in with his tongue, curling them up to add pressure to that spot deep inside of you and that was all it took to push you over that edge. The burst of pleasure made your vision go soft around the edges. He worked you through your orgasm and only let up when you begged softly “Please Klaus, too much. Too much” 

He rocked back on his heels, keeping two fingers inside of you to tease at your still sensitive clit “Already begging? I thought more of you” you knew your words would fall flat considering your legs were shaking but you still felt the need to say “Fuck you Klaus”

He buried his fingers to the knuckles and you moaned loudly “I believe that's where we're headed love” he pulled his fingers out and held your gaze as he sucked them into his mouth, rolling his tongue around them “Heavenly”

—--------------

He stood and when he got to his feet he picked you up, leaving you no choice but to wrap your still shaking legs around his slim waist. He walked over to the bed and laid you down almost gingerly. You looked up and realized he was still wearing jeans “You're overdressed Mikaelson” he grinned “Then by all means, come relieve me of them”

You sat up and moved to the end of the bed, pulling him to you by the front of his jeans. You made quick work of the zipper, pushing them off his hips. He helped you kick them off along with his boots. He was left in a pair of black boxers and the way his cock was straining against the material made your mouth water. “Take what you want” he spoke and you slid your hand below the waistband of his boxers, wrapping around his hard cock.

He groaned lightly as you began to stroke him. When you pushed his boxers down to be able to lick a strip from the base of his cock up to the head, rolling your tongue around to collect the beads of precum leaking out. 

You sank your mouth down on him, taking as much of him as you could. When he hit the back of your throat you twisted your tongue around him as you worked your mouth.  You could feel his hips tense and knew he was trying to hold back from thrusting into your mouth. He spoke your name twice before stepping back to pull himself free of your lips. 

—-------------

“Get in the bed” you scooted up to the pillows and he smiled, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking it lazily as he took in the sight of you laid out completely bared in his bed. He licked his lips then climbed into the bed. 

There was almost an animalistic quality to him, a predator finally catching his prey. He started at your hips and worked his way up your body. You knew even with your healing you'd still be littered with marks from his lips for a day or two and something stirred inside you at the thought of carrying marks from Klaus. 

When he got to your mouth he caught your lips in a bruising kiss that made your fingers bury into his hair. You felt his hard cock against your inner thigh and pulled back from the kiss “Fuck me already Klaus” 

His hand slipped between you and you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance before he sank himself inside of you. The feeling of him stretching you caused you to close your eyes tightly. Klaus wasn't exactly small. After a moment the stretch gave way to pleasure. 

He peppered kisses across your jaw and chest until you opened your eyes and met his. He took that as a go ahead and pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back into you. You gasped and he grinned. “You wanted it hard little witch?”

You nodded “Please” he chuckled and rolled his hips in a tight circle, watching your face as he did so. “Quit teasing Hybrid” you warned and he nodded before setting a punishing pace.

You were so damn close to that edge and wanted nothing more than to fall over but Klaus slowed his pace forcing your eyes to fly open “What the fuck?” He shrugged “You want to come, keep your eyes on me little witch. I want to watch you fall apart” 

You nodded after a moment and he resumed the pace he knew you liked and when his fingers slipped between you to rub tight circles on your clit it took everything in you to keep your eyes open “Let me feel it” you felt that pressure burst and fell over that edge, your eyes watering in an urge to close them against the pleasure rolling through you. 

You could feel his hips falter slightly and knew he was close. He buried his face into your neck and you felt his fangs tease the skin there, not biting but just applying enough pressure to make you clench around him as he came burying himself deep inside of you. 

—-------------

When he drew back he smirked at you before catching your lips in one final kiss before pulling out of you. He moved to lay down next to you and pulled you over on his chest. “What now?” You asked once your breathing had returned to normal “Well this by far more enjoyable than fighting” 

You raised your eyes to him and laughed “Are you really proposing we start fucking regularly?” He shrugged “I want you, you apparently want me. Come on love it doesn't have to be some epic meant to be thing but this was enjoyable for us both and we have to get along for Hayley and Hope's sake” 

You shook your head and started to laugh but it turned into a yawn. “Get some sleep” he urged and even though you knew you should leave you found your eyes drifting shut. You were satisfied, warm and like it or not safe in Klaus’ arms.

[dxckgrxsonx]

"you can pretend all you want, i can see the fucking mess you're making of yourself." + jason please my love??? i love e2l <3

Pairing - Jason Todd x (F) Reader

Words - 900ish

Warnings - 18+ SMUT - Graphic Sexual Content - Unprotected Sex - Cocky!Jason (he's good and he knows it) - Swearing

Notes - Hi my darlings!! It's been far too long since I've written something smutty so here you are!! Hope you enjoy!! <3

**

He pisses you off like nothing else on this Earth.

Broad shoulders, incredible skill, smart fucking mouth. He calls you in the middle of the night knowing you’d answer; knowing without a shadow of a doubt that even with you seething and furious and goddamn exhausted, you would still pick up the phone.

He’s smug about it and sometimes, just sometimes, you consider blocking his stupid number.

“I absolutely fucking hate you.” You greet, halfway into a snarl. Vaguely, you acknowledge that it’s not an ideal greeting, but it’s three in the morning and the thread of patience between your fists frays horribly when Jason steps out of the dark, already grinning at the look on your face. “I was sleeping.”

“And yet…” Jason says, watching you far too intently. “Here you are anyway.” He presses forwards, crowds you right up against the nearest flat surface, and tips your head up so you have no choice but to watch him pick you apart. “It’s almost like you can’t say no to me, sweetheart. In fact, I don't think you’ve ever said no to me…”

“Don’t.” You whisper, knowing where he’s heading. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

He presses on you hard enough to bruise; hard enough to scatter hairline fractures through your whole nervous system. It feels like static. It feels like an ache Jason carved into you with his own two hands–and his beautifully thick cock–to mark you as his own.

“You want this.” He breathes, mouth still pitched up in that wicked smirk and your entire world starts bending in the middle, moulding around Jason and warping under his capable hands. You can’t stand it: you hate yourself for it. “You get wet just thinking about it…thinking about me.”

It was a chance meeting and back then you were so goddamn stupid.

You could hardly walk after the first time, cunt stretched open and sore from how many times he opened you up with his fingers–with his cock. He was big and thick and he had no choice but to take his time to get your pretty pussy to yield to him–to let him in. He praised you the whole time, and then fucked you until you were trembling and whimpering and squeezing at his cock.

It was weeks before you heard from him again and nothing you did with your own two hands was enough.

You needed him and he knew it.

You need him now and he knows it.

There’s a wet spot soaking through your underwear and the second Jason see’s it he’s groaning something feral against your throat. Shoving you backwards onto the bed he chases and wedges his broad shoulders between your thighs before you have a chance to flinch them closed.

Grabbing at your knees he spreads you open and pushes your legs back until they’re almost by your ears. Your muscles burn at the stretch, and you try to wiggle out of his grip but Jason leans forward and drags his tongue over the slick fabric covering your weeping slit.

“Fuck you.” You gasp. Unable to think of anything but how much you hate him for what he’s turned you into and how good he makes you feel. “Fuck you so much.”

He laughs and it’s almost mean with how arrogant he is.

Jason releases his hold on your knees to unbuckle his belt and then he’s back, smacking the thick, heavy length of him against your covered pussy. He rubs the fat head through the growing damp patch on your underwear and your puffy clit twitches hard enough that he can see it throb.

Wedging the tip of his cock underneath the fabric he teases your soaked hole until you thrash a little and whine. Pressing in just enough to get you to stretch open around him he pulls back so he can do it again and you snap your jaw closed around the pleas building in your mouth.

“Say it.” Jason demands.

Sinking the first few inches into your soft, slick pussy Jason holds and waits, Lazarus eyes awake and interested in each trembling twitch of your body.

“I hate this.” You lie, unable to stop yourself from throbbing around the tip of his cock, arousal leaking and squelching out around the edges of him. “I hate you.”

“Oh sweetheart.” Jason hums, using one hand to pull your underwear to the side so he can see just how embarrassingly wet you are. Your slick sticks to the fabric and it stays attached to your pussy in thin strings “You can pretend all you want, I can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself.”

Thrusting forwards he stuffs his full length inside you with one, rough stroke and you moan loud enough to shake the windows.

“Oh–ah fuck!–Jason.” You try, voice trembling.

“There you go.” He says. “I knew you wanted this. I knew your aching little pussy wouldn’t be able to say no to me. No one can fuck you like I can, sweetheart.” Shoving your knees apart he holds you so tightly you can barely move and watches his cock split you open. “Every time I call you, there you are, all mad and pretty and wet. And the second I get inside you, you go all soft and cockdrunk for me.”

“Uh–plea–please.”

“Yeah.” Jason grins. “Just like that. Now, let’s see how much you can come for me this time, huh? You managed three last time before you started crying. But I think you can do better for me, right sweetheart?”

**

[carmenized-onions]

Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix

synopsis; You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair. Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig. Bad thing: You've been avoiding the Berzatto family for the past year.

tasting notes; hurt comfort? idk man, he's in a fuckin' freezer. this is gonna be a long slow-burn series. We don't use Y/N here and we've got a very preestablished storyline going on babes. Eat up.

portion; 3.1k+

possible allergies; SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS, I've started writing this before Season 3 comes out in June so we're going WAY off canon (unless I'm an oracle), Mikey is gonna be central baby, any tw you require for the bear-- you require for this.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns!)

I have not written fanfiction in 5-6 years and once again some goddamn pretty boy just YOINKS me back in. I'm making up my own season three here so I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this series, hopefully it turns out. If it doesn't... C'est la vie, I had fun.

The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life—                    Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call from an old friend.

You stare at your screen for what feels like eons but it’s really just a few rings. It’s enough time to frantically search through blankets on your couch for your remote to pause your show— Which might as well be like 10 years of time. You’re heavily debating not answering; what if it’s something heavy? What if a mutual childhood friend died? What if it’s a love or murder confession? What if it’s about the money you owe her? The money she owes you?

Do you really want to take that kind of call? On what’s been a peaceful Friday night? That’s a rarity in your part of Chicago, c’mon. If it’s important, she’ll leave a voicemail... Who are you kidding, she doesn’t leave voicemails— Frankly, it’s bizarre and concerning that she’s calling in the first place instead of spam texting. …Alright, she’s let it get to the fourth ring, she’s probably dead or dying. You need to pick up.

“…Syd?”

She sounds infinitely stressed, but relieved to hear your voice.“Hey, hey, uh—”

There’s a cacophony of yelling, banging, and what you imagine are kitchen noises in the background. Guess she kept to her guns after Sheridan. That’s nice. Or maybe it’s not. Hard to tell.

“Are you good?” She can’t see the concern on your face or your free arm crossing over your waist— But she can imagine it in the worried lilt of your voice.

“Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah— I-I’m good— Well actually, no, I’m not good, that’s why I’m calling. Actually. Sorry. I know it’s been a minute, it’s fucked up to call only when I need something—”

“Syd.”

“Is your dad still a handy-man?”

Ah. Goodbye peaceful Friday night. Hello emergency hotfix services.

You click your teeth, “Oh, no, he retired. Got a case of… Getting fucking old disease.” But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her. This is at least manageable— Whatever it is.

“Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Ha, yeah, my dad’s got that too— Well, okay, then I’ll talk—”

You’re quick to jump in. “I took over the business though. So, if you’re—" “We need help so bad right now.”

You can’t help but laugh at the speed of it, but immediately feel guilty hearing the desperation in it. “Yeah? Who’s we?”

You stick the cellphone in the crux of your neck, already walking across your apartment to throw on your jumpsuit— Dark navy blue, elbow length sleeves, dad’s old logo embroidered on your right breast pocket.

CHICAGO’S KINDEST ⚒ FIXERS & CO. It’s managed to grow on you.

There’s an egregious number of patches ironed or sewn onto the back and shoulders of it. All from businesses you and your father had either worked with or done odd jobs for. A NASCAR jumpsuit, but for nostalgia and small businesses. Something something ‘it all starts with your neighbourhood’. Your dad would say.

Syd continues, she hasn’t changed much. You hear her sharp dicing in the background, the rhythm seems to calm down into an actual flow instead of erratic speed. You figure either the dinner rush is starting to slow down or she’s relieved you’re coming. Who are you being humble for, no shot it’s the former.

“So, you know how I’m like— Like a chef and shit?”

 You hum the affirmative, putting her on speakerphone so you can pull out your tool kit with both hands.

“So like, I actually co-own this restaurant opening tonight.”

“Oh nice!”

“Yeah— Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice, but actually, it’s not, because it’s bad.”

“In the way I can fix?”

“In the way you can fix, yeah. Hopefully.”

“What’s the damage?”

“So, my co-owner uh, Carmen, he got locked in the walk-in. Like trapped.”

You take a beat, a confused one. Half-stepping, almost tripping. You stare at your tools, picking out what you’ll actually need for this— How the fuck— “How is he trapped in the walk-in?”

“So, he meant to call to get it fixed—” “And he didn’t?” “And he didn’t.”

“What was broke about it in the first place?”

“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

“Do you have the outside handle, still?”

“Yeah. Yeah, laying around somewhere— It snapped off though, like—”

“Clean?”

“Uh…. Y’know, I would check, but I’m actually kinda—"

“Can we run table 36, please, Chefs?!” Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice.

“Yes, Chef! …I’m kinda busy.”

“Right. Restaurant. Oh, what fucking restaurant? You said Carmen, that’s that fuckin’ Michelin guy, right?” Berzatto. It has to be. The smallness of this world is a personal prank on you.

“…How do you know that?” Son of a bitch.

“…I try to remember what you like.” It’s a good save, but that was too intimate for 3 years of no contact besides Happy Birthday texts, fuck fuck, recover— “Ahem, uh, Restaurant?”

“The Bear. Formerly The Beef. You do still live in Chicago, right?”

Berzatto. Confirmed. Bleh.

“Fortunate for you, I do. I know The Beef, I’m not far, I’ll be there in ten. Tell him to not have a panic attack, if you get a minute.”

“I will not get a minute. But I love the dream.”

And you’re off. Jumpsuit half zipped over what was supposed to be a sleep shirt but is now posthumously a work shirt. Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this. Carhartt jacket thrown over your shoulders— Your dad’s, so, a bit oversized. Toolbox in hand, utility belt on— Though you’re mildly sure if your hypothesis is right, you will only need your threateningly long sledgehammer.

Thank God for your car. CTA would not like you right now.

You pull up front. Oh boy. The sign change is making you feel a type of way that you were not expecting. Pride? Envy? All seven of the deadly sins? Maybe. No time to stew on it because there’s an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat with who you assume is her shivering son out front. So. Definitely going through the back alley instead of getting in the middle of that shit.

Alas, it’s not any better, because there’s Syd, vomiting next to a dumpster.

“Better to ignore or acknowledge you in this moment?” Is the response you decide is best, despite the question, you’re already by her side. You put your tools down (out of the splash zone) and rub her back with one hand, holding back straying braids with the other.

“I couldn’t—” More vomit. “Fuckin’ tell ya.” Syd takes a few deep breathes before standing. She considers going in for a hug, but remembers, the vomit. “Good to see you. I want to catch up, f’real, but—” “The bear in the walk-in?” “The bear in the walk-in.”

You nod, fishing through your pocket. You hand her a mini container of Tums. She waves it off, of course, and you double down, of course, “Who you acting tough for?”

“Fuckin… No one.” She grimaces, taking the box. She makes a show of taking one, like a fussy kid.

You refuse to take it back. “Keep it.”

“Never stopped being the mom friend, eh?”

You laugh, picking up your tools again. “Listen, there’s no telling what the night and your stomach holds. Lead the way?”

The Bear is pretty, or at least the kitchen of it is, so far. It’s clean. Cleaner than it used to be. The death trap walk-in is really the only eyesore for you. You stare at the broken-off handle in your hand, twisting it back and forth to look at all the angles. It’s honestly a pretty clean break.

Sydney’s left to talk to her dad, as she should, and the rest of the kitchen is either too busy to pay you mind or is just silently relieved to see you.

Tina— Who has thankfully opted to not say ‘Hey, good to see you, it’s been a year, what the fuck’—Taps the walk-in door and says to this elusive Michelin Carmen that she’ll be right back, that help’s here. He does not seem to register this at all. She gently slaps your cheek before rushing back to her station, regardless.

“Maybe I’m just not built for this, maybe, maybe that’s okay— Maybe that just is.”

You’ve never said his name to him, it feels heavy on your tongue. “Carmen.”

“Right? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Alright, he’s too far gone. You flag down one of the cooks that are just shadowing for the night. “Hey, can you hold this in place for me?”

You stick the handle into what’s left of the hinge still attached to the door, which is, not much— But hopefully, again, if your hypothesis is correct, it’ll give enough leverage. The cook holds it in place, a little terrified as your sledgehammer comes into view.

“Not gonna hit you, promise.”

“—I’m a fuckin’ psycho. That’s why. That’s why I’m good at what I do.”

You tap (bang) the hammer on the door, enough to stop his train of thought. For a second, at least. “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.”

“…Tony?”

“...Who the fuck is Tony?”

The meek cook beside you speaks up, “He means Tommy.”

And Tina is quick to yell from across the kitchen— hearing how? We don’t know. “It’s Terry!”

“I am none of these people.” You sigh, readying the hammer. “Carmen, can you stand up, and just tuck your fingers in the wedge of the door? If there is one?”

“Heard. Yeah.” There’s shuffling from in there, getting into position. Though the steps and the words seem dazed, as he’s forced out of a mental fog. “Here.”

“This isn’t a fix by the way. Your whole door is fucked after this. Not that it isn’t already, but, y’know.” You back up, teeing yourself up before running forward.

“Well, wait—”

You slam the mallet into the tip of the handle perfectly, forcing it way too tight into the gap of the hinge. You push the cook aside with your hip, now using the long handle of the mallet to stick between the knob and the door, using it as further leverage to pull it open. It is incredibly straining.

“Carmy!” Is it okay to say that nickname before you’ve even seen his face? Eh. You’re moving the boulder, he’ll forgive you. “You feel air?!”

“Holy shit— Yeah, yeah— Push?!” “Of course fucking push!”

And it becomes apparent in this exchange of force that this Head Chef must be significantly stronger than you, because it’s opening a lot faster now. Though, fast is a strong word for the snail pace this is happening at. But it’s more than the nothing that was happening a minute ago.

“Aye… Cousin?” Richie, in a… suit? Runs up to you, coming from front of house. He immediately grabs a free spot on the sledgehammer’s handle to help pull. He was shocked to see you doing, well, this, right now, but then upon registering, he’s just shocked to see you. Period.

You can only groan in response, sticking a leg up and putting your foot on the wall as if it’s gonna add meaningful leverage— Oh wait, it kinda is. “Y'clean up good, Rich— Opening going—Fuck— well?”

“Oh yeah, fucking peachy.” He can only manage to wheeze in reply. Investing his strength in yanking rather than reintroductions; thankfully it pays off.

The hinge shoots open, you would have absolutely fallen on your ass if Richie was not ready to stabilize you. The walk-in door cracks open. Just a bit. It’s not dramatic, it’s just a breath.

It’s so anti-climactic that Richie doesn’t mind walking off to cheer before Carmen even comes out. Clapping your back as he does. “That’s what I like to fuckin’ see, Cousin! Ingenuity!”

Though, to be fair, he’s moving to intercept a very sweet looking, worried girl. You look up at her, wheezing as you keel over slightly to catch your breath, hands on your knees. She’s saying something along the lines of ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Is he okay?’ Girlfriend? Probably. Richie seems to be coaxing her accordingly. You turn your head back to the door. Carmen hasn’t come out yet. That’s a red flag. With another wheeze, you stand up right, opening the door further, peeking in.

He's standing there, catatonic. Not looking at you, but straight forward, beyond you. He must’ve been by the door to push it open but now he’s stumbled against the back shelf. Every time his girl’s voice manages to ring into here, his eyes crinkle— Wince. His breath keeps hitching. He looks afraid. It is better to be caged right now than it is to be out there, doing whatever he could be doing, right now. Talking to anyone might be a death sentence, right now.

“I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that.” He mumbles repeatedly. You can barely hear it over the buzzing of the freezer.

Whispering it just for himself, like some sort of fucked up mantra. Like it’s a state of inner peace to feel this bad. You doubt he even sees you right now.

You know you don’t know Carmy personally. Mostly just through hearsay.

He’s never met or heard of you, that’s for sure.

But you know Berzattos. Or. Knew the one.

And you know a downward spiral. Intimately.

And you know that right now, he’s fucking cold. He is shivering and making no move to leave that state. You think he thinks that’s the state he deserves to stay in.

Nothing to lose but a good first impression, right? You drop a screwdriver in the doorway as a doorstop— Because how fucking dumb would it be if you both got stuck? And. Extremely slowly, you approach him not unlike approaching an actual captive bear. In your eyes, you might as well be.

Standing right in front of him doesn’t stop his mantra. You slip your jacket off, half hugging him to drape it over his shoulders. “You’re just cold.”

“I’m a—” “You’re just. Cold.” You cut him off before he has the chance to self-deprecate again, smoothing out the sleeves on him. His eyes readjust to actually look at you rather than somewhere beyond.

You sniff. You’re already cold and it’s been 30 seconds. This poor thing. You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them before touching them to his frigid fucking face. “Fuck you’re really cold. Like danger cold.”

Never being one for boundaries or hesitation, you hug yourself to him. It’s the fastest way to warm him up. You slip your hands under the jacket— Your jacket— And just engulf the Italian Popsicle Man before you.

Shockingly, he doesn’t push you off or suddenly reawaken to his senses and tell you to fuck off. He doesn’t flinch, if anything he leans in. His body doesn’t really have time for surprise, right now, it just takes what it needs. And what it needs is warmth and oxytocin. His breathing slowly but surely self regulates, and once you start to remember decorum you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder, like the world’s most gentle hook, and that alone is enough to keep you there.

It's a long, silent, liminal spacey moment before he speaks again. Both of you speak just above the decibel of the freezer's buzzing.

“You’re not Tony.”

“Terry.”

“You’re Terry?”

“No, Tina said Tony’s Terry. I don’t know who the fuck Terry is.”

“Terry’s the fridge guy.”

“You’re still going to need to call him; I did just make it worse.”

“That’s fine.” He swallows. “Who called you?”

“Syd.”

“Should’ve called you earlier.”

“Should’ve called the fridge guy earlier.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, but he makes no move to move, so you don’t either.

“You know Mikey too?”

Ah. The patch. The Beef. It's worn, but it sits proudly on the left shoulder of your jumpsuit. Your heart tightens and so does your posture.

“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s shakier than you’d like it to be. “Dad knew him, so then I knew him, so then I occasionally fixed shit for him. Shit that ‘Fak couldn’t?’ I think his name was?”

“Hm.” He hums. “He ever got locked in the walk-in?”

“Yeah, he really fucked it up, like waayy worse than whatever happened with you tonight. Like whatever happened. At least 10 times worse.” Your voice is coated with sarcasm, but it’s not entirely untrue.

You’re relieved, when Carmen laughs at this, a touch maniacally, but it’s something. Right now, any emotion from him besides regret and anxiety feels like a trophy. He straightens up, pushing his hair back, so you remove your arms.

“You’re fuckin’ funny, Tony.”

“Still not Tony.”

“Oh my god!” A blonde, very pregnant woman cracks the door open, relieved. “Are you okay, Bear?” You step aside so she can hug Carmen, holding his cheeks to look over him. Oh, this has to be—

“I’m good, I’m great, Sug.” He says this incredibly unconvincingly, hanging one hand on her wrist.

But what matters more in your brain right now is: That’s Sugar. Natalie.

And now you can put a face to both siblings you’ve been bitched about to.

Chain-smoker, means well, cringeworthy husband, too good for her family, incredibly judgemental, cares too much and worries more, loves to fight, her mother’s daughter, pushy, sticks her foot in her mouth, can’t take no for an answer, would lay down her life. Natalie Berzatto. Little sister.

Michelin Star retaining, big shot, sensitive, definitely a virgin, ball buster, sweats the small stuff, sweetheart, asshole, incredibly smart, flighty, coward, deeply loyal, whiny, screamer, show-off, fantastic drawer, shell, mister new york, annoyingly humble, undeniably the most talented. Carmen Berzatto. Baby brother.

Mikey’s words. Of course.

Nat turns her gaze over to you, “Thank you.” You can only bring yourself to nod in reply, a bit awkward— Lost in your rolodex of memories of the people you’ve never actually met until right now. It’s weird to feel parasocial about a normal person.   

“Our toilet, exploded.” She says.

Now that pulls out you of it, and gets a laugh out of you. You put your hand over your mouth. “Yeah?”

Sugar shakes her head, eyes widening like she’s just stepped in it, “I didn’t mean like— Like, you just did a job, right, that’s like tacking on another last-minute service—”

“That’s fine.” You put a hand up stopping her from continuing, still chuckling. “I’ll take a look at it tonight and try to fix it tomorrow?”

She nods, smiling bright, “Thank you, Tommy.”

Who needs to use Y/N when you have the fridge guy?

I so desperately hope you liked this first chapter. I've been stewing on this for like a week so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Unless it's mean!! In which case, do NOT!!!

And just a forewarning, as we step into uncharted territory where the walk-in meltdown was cut short, I need you to hold my hand through it bb. We're making this man's life better or we're gonna die trying.

Next Part

[bigfan-fanfic]

Good to the Last Drop (Vander x Male Reader)

"Well, well. What's a pretty thing like you doing in a dump like this?"

You glance over at Vander, raising an eyebrow at the joke.

"Well, I thought it was a good line." Vander chuckles. "It's been a while since I've seen you."

He holds out his arms and lets you come to him before he wraps them around you, nearly enveloping you in his chest.

"Missed me, did you?"

"Yeah," you chuckle. "Life topside sucks without you. And that was a terrible line."

"At least they let you back whenever you want, eh? So you can hear my poorly thought-out lines."

You're basically the only person who regularly uses the one poorly maintained gondola between topside and the undercity.

About three years ago, Vander cashed in a favor from a connection of his to get you admitted to the Academy in Piltover, your creativity and skill honed and forged to help the city thrive, and you both hoped, to help Zaun just as much.

Though students at the University are often held to a high standard of behavior and merit, you were able to work hard enough to find your way back.

A lengthy process involving finding and renting out an apartment-workspace with the help of a sponsor so you no longer had to deal with curfews

and eventually being able to comfortably ride down to Zaun to see your friends and family.

Vander has been good to you - the Hound of the Underground is much like a father to everyone who calls themselves a member of Zaun.

But you hope he still sees you as more.

You never had the courage to tell him how you felt.

You were too young, too inexperience, too green - how could he ever love someone like you, you thought?

You sigh softly in Vander's arms and he puts you at arm's length, though his big hands still hold your shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"Some of those kids called me a Piltie on my way here." You chuckle wryly. "I didn't realizing I was losing that undercity edge."

Your hair, once shaved and wild like the young punk you were, now grows out, healthier than ever now that you spend less time in the toxic smog of Zaun, and all traces of the wild neon dyes are gone.

Vander runs a hand through your hair, the gentle tug not doing anything to help your focus, and gives a low hum.

"Screw em. You can take the man out of the undercity..."

He pulls you behind the bar. "Here, make yourself whatever you want."

"Really? You're putting me to work on my vacation?" you joke.

"Smart mouth." Vander teases back. "I don't want you leaving my sight. I'm claimin' all the rest of your time down here. Let me just settle up and then I'm yours."

You make yourself a juice - it's nostalgic and has that sweet tang you can't seem to find in Piltover - and watch Vander as he proudly mentions to some patrons that you're back.

It's clear he never once forgot you. Always kept you close.

And you love him for it.

Damn... you love him.

Some tipsy punk, swaggering all over the bar, eyes you up and leans against the counter, balancing precariously on his elbow. "Hey, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a dump like this?"

Before you can giggle at the idea of having two different men say that to you, a massive hand swipes the elbow off the table, and the drunk punk's face slams into the bar and he slumps out of sight.

"Sorry about that. I don't allow terrible pick-up lines in my bar." Vander smirks.

He's imposing and big and terribly close to you right now, protective and strong...

But you can only think about one thing.

"So, that was a pick up line, then?"

He looks at you, an unspoken hesitation. The age difference, the living in practically separate worlds, his affection for you separate from attraction.

But then he hears the old song playing on the jukebox. An old favorite.

Hesitation gone, he holds out a hand.

"How about a dance?" he winks. "I'd hate for you to think I didn't have any romance in me."

"I know you do. At least... I'd like to."

And as you lean your head against his chest as you two slow dance together in the Last Drop, you hear his words, soft and hopeful.

"I'd like that too."

[oldsoul007]

FwB

nicholas chavez x childhood bestfriend!reader

warning: kissing

Me and Nicholas had been inseparable since we were kids. Growing up in the same neighborhood, we shared countless adventures, secrets, and dreams. Our bond was unbreakable, and as we grew older, our friendship evolved into something deeper.

One summer evening, after a long day of reminiscing and laughter, we found themselves in a moment of vulnerability. The lines between friendship and something more began to blur, and we became friends with benefits. It was an unspoken agreement, a way to explore our feelings without risking their cherished friendship. No strings attached.

Nicholas, however, began to realize that his feelings for y/n were far more profound than he had ever admitted to himself.

One night as I finally finished up some work I get a text from Nicholas saying he’s coming over. Which initially means he needs to blow off some steam. I hear the knock at the door and open it up to Nicholas pulling me in for a heated kiss. He pushes me farther into my apartment kicking the door closed. We continue walking back him taking my shirt off as we reach my room. He kisses down my neck sending shivers down my spine. “God I love you” Nicholas groans as he continues kissing down my neck.

I blank for a moment checking if I just heard what I think I did. “What” “I love you” he repeats. “Nicholas” I say trying to get him to stop even though I didn’t want to. “Nicholas stop” he stops immediately looking up at me. “What’s wrong?” “We promised…we promised no strings attached Nic…” I say not daring to look him in the eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Nicholas confessed, "I love you, y/n. You can’t deny you don’t feel the same way. I know we've always been best friends, and I cherish that more than anything. But my feelings have grown into something much deeper. I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with just being friends with benefits. I want more. I want us to be together, truly together. I can't keep pretending that this is just casual for me."

My eyes widened, and i shook my head. "Nicholas, we agreed this was just for fun. I can't—"

"Why not?" Nicholas interrupted, frustration evident in his tone. "Why can't you let me love you? Why are you so afraid of this?"

I looked away, struggling to find the right words. "It's not that simple. I'm just not ready for that kind of commitment."

Nicholas stood up, pacing the room. "I don't understand, y/n. We've been so close, shared so much. Why can't you see that we could be amazing together?"

Tears welled up in my eyes. "I'm scared, Nicholas. I'm scared of getting hurt, of losing what we have."

Nicholas stopped and faced me, his expression a mix of anger and pain. "So you'd rather keep me at arm's length than take a chance on something real?"

My silence spoke volumes. Nicholas sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I just want you to know that my feelings are real. And I can't keep doing this if you don't feel the same."

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the heavy weight of my own fears.

As sat on my bed, staring at my phone. Nicholas's words from our heated last conversation echoed in my mind.

I had been taken aback by his confession, unsure of how to respond at the moment. But now, as I replayed our moments together—the laughter, the support, the way he looked at me with genuine affection—I realized my feelings had grown deeper too.

Determined, I grabbed my coat and headed to Nicholas's apartment. When he opened the door, surprise flashed across his face.

"Y/n, what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding. "Nicholas, I've been thinking a lot about what you said. And I realize now that I want more too. I don't want to just be friends with benefits anymore. I want to be with you."

Nicholas's eyes softened, and a smile slowly spread across his face. "Are you sure, y/n?"

I nodded, stepping closer. "I've never been more sure of anything. You've always been there for me, and I can't imagine my life without you."

He pulled me into a soft kiss and embrace, holding me tightly. "I've waited so long to hear you say that."



[james-is-here]

hi!!! i absolutely love your writing it's so good! please keep up the good work, i also never really see any kpop boy pussies so i'm hoping you will do this request.

i have a request, what about cock obsessed lee know who can't stand not having reader's cock not pounding his pussy. he gets so needy constantly begging and touching you very different from how he normally acts. so reader in return teases him back and it ends with lee know getting the best fucking of his life. thank you!! 

-🐰🔪

Oooh boy, thank you, after I wrote the other Minho fic, I've been motivated to write more and I am slowly but surely becoming obsessed with whiney, subby Min 🫠Also, the boys have like all the brands I know (except Han's) and I didn't want to repeat so your brand in BrandRacha is Prada :P

Also, let me know if I misinterpreted your request and I can rewrite it, I don't know why but I feel like I did by accident. There's still BoyPuss Min, just not sure if I fulfilled it to your liking.

Blogs: @belladonna6-6-6 @heartbinn @succubus-hansol @leezanetheofficial @yongbokkk @michelle4eve @dontwannaexsist (Imk if I forgot you or you want to be added.

Tags: Min is called good girl so some feminization, desperate Min, implied color system, lots of edging, Min is called princess, good boy, kitten, other members are mentioned, Minnie gets emotional and drops, brief mention of a cervix. lmk if I forgot anything.

When you have free time, it's not just your free time it's yours and Minho's free time and during this free time he flips from his usual self so fast you get whiplash and you're completely thrown off every time.

He's seemingly annoyed that you and Chan hug him but that night he's a complete 180, begging for you to hold him close and let him ride your thigh.

Absolutely killing the stage and being his usual annoyed but loving self and after he's dragging you to an empty room, shoving himself against the door and pulling you in for a kiss while pulling your hand to his crotch and grinding the best he could in his stage pants.

You're wrapping your arms around him from behind on camera or on stage and he's standing there almost begrudgingly but really he's throbbing in his pants and soaking his underwear and when alone his hands are all over you trying to pull you close.

Don't get me wrong, you love how obsessed Minho was with you. You both have equal libido and stamina and it amuses you whenever you see the needy look his eyes. It's just...oof, well, a lot. He does relax but if you had to think, he has you inside him more often then not having you inside him.

Yes, the boys know about you, unfortunately Minho's neediness can be relentless and he said himself before a movie night with the others "I'll behave, please just let me cockwarm" and next thing you knew, Minho was squirming in your lap and Chan scolded both of you before kicking you both from movie night and to your room.

Now, you've been gone for a week for a Prada event and it was really fun to do something on your own from your group but ~someone~ called you at every opportunity the first day you arrived at the location the event was at that you had to send them your schedule so they didn't interrupt anything.

When you arrived at the dorms from the airport, it seemed that no one was home. It was late but most of them usually stay up late. Walking down the hall, you knock lightly on Chan's door before opening it. "Mn!" He looks up from his laptop, taking off his headset and getting up to meet you at the door to pull you into a tight hug, a smile growing on your face as he squeals softly and rocks you back and forth. "Hi Hyung!" Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you return the hug.

He then starts to jokingly cry and pull back, holding your shoulders at arms length. "I have all my kids back!" You let a snort out as he pulled you back into his arms. "Oh, I hope you're never gone that long again." "Hyung, You're sounding like an obsessed boyfriend." "No, I'm your desperate hyung, go take care of your boyfriend please."

You laugh as he all but begs you, turning you around and pushing you towards Minho's room. "I'm so jet lagged though, can I wait until tomorrow when I'm more awake?" "No, now, please, go." You shake your head and lightly kick your bag to roll over to your door before smiling at Chan. "Not a very good welcome home, you're all settled for the night." "I think Hyunjin is still awake painting." You turn in the opposite direction to go say hi to the dancer. "Jinnie." You cheer softly but Chan grabs your wrist. "Hyung..." You pout and he pushes you back over to Minho's room. "Boyfriend first, Jinnie later." Groaning you playfully shove him before going to your boyfriend.

You open his door, not even deciding to knock, and find your boyfriend in your hoodie and his sweats, laying in his stomach with one leg extended and the other thrown over his mangled blankets. He's hugging his pillow but looking again, the pillow case doesn't match his and you realize it's your pillow.

There's enough room next to him on his left so you gently crash next to him, throwing an arm over his back and pulling him, causing him to roll onto his side and into your chest. His hand falls open and something slides out, picking it up, it's a remote. You chuckle before placing it to the side and reaching down, placing your hand on his abdomen.

Tugging his hoodie, you slip your hand underneath, his skin warm under your cold hands and he whines in his sleep. Moving down, you slip into his sweats and you were honestly expecting his boxer shorts but instead you felt lace. Tracing the delicate details, you follow them until his hip, gently taking the band between your fingers then sliding further down until your fingers are near his core. "Min~" You groan quietly and remove your hand, pulling him closer until his ass is pushed into you.

Reaching up, you grab the remote, wrapping your arms around him before pressing the button for the second setting. His body jolts and pushes back into you as he gasps, breathing heavily. You can faintly see purple in the dark room of the remote and you smile softly when you process what toy is nestled inside him, the only one he has access to, not too long but not to short and no stimulation to his clit. It was the worse one to be left with but hey, you love torturing him.

Moving the remote to the other hand, you reach back into his sweats, dragging your fingertips over the lace of his underwear then grab his thigh, carefully lifting his leg and shifting onto your back slightly so he's laying back on you.

Your hand cups his heat, causing him to choke out a gasp as his chest heaves faster and his hips start to squirm. Raising the speed, your fingers find his clit through the fabric, making tight, quick circles that pull quiet moans out of him as he parts his lips and leans his head back on your shoulder.

"Minnie~" You murmur quietly, moving the fabric to the side and touching him directly. He is soaking wet, dripping around the toy and all over your fingers. "Minnie, Princess~" His breathing picks up, chest rising and falling rapidly and as his hips squirm and push back into you and your hand. You draw a few more rapid circles before withdrawing from him completely and turning off the toy.

He lets out a choked sob, hips still moving wildly as he tries to chase his high before eventually settling down with a whine and turning his head towards you, opening his eyes and blinking away his tiredness. "Hyung..." He pouts and you kiss it away. "Hi Princess." "Please~" "How about...no."

You turn the toy on again, resting your hand above his core and holding him against you. "How about I finally get back at you being a slutty brat, huh?" "I-I'm not a brat." "Mmm, but you are, Princess, don't lie." "M'Not, fuck~" You add your fingers back into the mix, playing with his clit. "Did you really think I wouldn't get back at you for being rude to the boys?" "I-I wasn't...I'm not-" "We just want to love you, Minnie, why you gotta hate us?" He whines and shakes his head. "N-No, that's not..."

You turn off the toy again and remove your hands from him. "No, Hyung, please stop." "You want me to stop? I'll stop if that's what you want." You move slightly, making it look like you're gonna leave the bed before he turns towards you, eyes brimming with tears as he grabs your wrist. "Don't go, please, please just fill me up please, I want your cock so bad, please." "I don't know if you deserve it, Minho. You should appreciate our love."

He gasps, sitting up and pushing you onto your back before straddling your thighs. "I-I do, I really do. I swear I appreciate all of you, I love all of you." "I don't know, Min." Your left hand, extended out on the other side of the bed, you click the second setting and he squeals with a gasp, hip jolting on your thighs before you place your hands on his hip to hold him still as his upper half falls forward and his hands prop himself up on your stomach.

His moans are breathy gasps as he tries to move his hips. "How about four more?" "Four?!" Tears fall down his cheeks as his fingers tighten around your shirt and his nails dig into your skin, not painful thanks to the shirt barrier but a light sting. "No...No, please, I'm sorry. I-I do a-appreciate you all, I d-do show it, I-I'm not a liar, Hyung, please..."

You know he does, he's not that cruel but it amuses you how he teases the boys and shows distain for their affection but then 180s with you and always tries to get your cock in him.

"Four more, for the last four boys." "No, please, I'm sorry." He cries and leans down until his face is hidden in your neck, tears falling onto your skin. "This is how you'll make up for it, yeah?" "No, please...M'sorry, Hyung, please..." "I said four didn't I? You don't know what I'll do for you to make it up to me." He doesn't have to make it up to you, you know the truth, but again, you love torturing him.

"Four more times then I'll tell you what I want." He whines when you finally shut the toy off, hip shaking in your hold. "Three, my bad. Or I could start over and you could do seven and tell me what each member means to you while trying not to cum." "No! Fuck, please, I-I can't take it."

Okay, you weren't that cruel...maybe another time.

"Four more, kitten." Turning it to the fourth level this time, he jolts, slowly trying to slide his hips further up to meet your crotch but you kept him in place. He harshly tugs at your shirt with a whine. "Off, please, off." "Don't move. You move, we start back at three." He nods, his hands moving to your waistband as you sit up slightly and remove your shirt. You could barely drop it to the floor when he pushes you back by your shoulders and his hands are rubbing your chest, his nails are scratching lightly against your toned stomach, their moving to hold your waist, they're everywhere.

"Stop." "What?" He whines and brings your hands back to his hips. "I-I'm gonna cum, stop." You smile gently and stop the vibrator. "Aw, thanks for telling me, such a good girl taking her punishment." You praise, lifting a hand to cradle his face and he leans into it, your thumb wiping away his tears and you pull him down, attaching you lips to his firmly and finally kissing him since you've returned home.

His hands cradle your face, kissing back just as hard before pulling back and moving to the crook of your neck again. "T-Two more...Please." "Being such a good girl, Minnie." Before turning it back on, you tug his waistband. "Take these off, Kitten." He gets off you, quickly taking the clothing off and tossing them away before getting back on your lap. He was wearing a pair of black lace panties you bought for him. "So pretty." You murmur softly, placing your hands on his waist before turning the toy on again.

You grip his waist slightly, pulling him down to sit on your thighs properly then sliding your hand down so your thumb is just above where his clit is. His stomach twist and he whines, his heat throbbing painfully and he wishes you would just move your thumb just an inch to relieve some of the pain but he knows it's wishful thinking, you know his body, know that if you did, he'd cum instantly. You're teasing him, driving him crazy and he tries to think of anything but your thumb near where he needs to be touched.

You bumped it to four and his hips jolt forward, your thumb nudging his clit slightly and he barely gets out his words. "Shit- S-Stop, stop." You turn it off and Minho shakes above you. "Fuck, it's hurts. Hyung please." "You can do one more, Kitten. I know you can." "I-It's too much, I- I can't-" His hips squirm subconsciously and you move your hand away slightly. "I know you can, it's okay."

He drops his head, his left hand holding himself up on your stomach and his right on the bed. "Min?" He hums, sniffing softly. "Min, color." "Green...i-it's green, m'sorry." "No, No, it's okay. Can you take one more?" "Yeah, I can...I can." "You sure?" "Yeah. S'punishment." "But if you can't take it, we stop." "I-I want to." His fingertips lightly graze over your abdomen. "Can..." "Can what darling?" "C-Can I touch you?" His fingers curl into your waist band and a soft smile graces your lips. "Yeah, you've been such a good boy, you could've touched me a while ago."

He tugs down your waistbands down just enough to wrap his hand around your length and pull it out from its confinement. "One more, hyung." "Okay." You turn it on one more time, pulling a whine from him as his hands are placed on your pelvis around your length. His head tilts back slightly before rolling back down and taking you into his hand.

He strokes you lazily but just enough to send sparks up your spine, making you groan. Minho whines softly, his hips stuttering with trying not to move and your heart melts. "Ride my thigh, baby." He shakes his head, picking it up and looking up at you. "N-No, one more, I-I can do it." "Min, it's okay." "S-Stop it, Stop the-" His legs shake as he gets closer and closer but you don't stop the vibrator and he takes it from your hand and turns it off, hips jolting forward as he settles from his last denied orgasm.

"Min, I was letting you cum. You didn't have to follow the punishment anymore." "B-But I-I'm a b-brat a-and I-I don't show that I a-appreciate the others..." "Oh, Min..."

Sitting up, you pull him into your arms and turn around, laying him on his back before his hands are on your chest as you pull your sweats back up. "Wait, Hyung-" "No, Min, what color?" "Green, Hyung, please. I-I have to-" "Truth, Min, What color?" You say firmly. "Hyung..." "Minho." You push, using his name and he stops and covers his face.

He's silent for a couple seconds before his body shakes and a choked cry gets caught in his throat. "Minnie..." "I-I d-do....I do apprec-iate a-all of you...I-I l-ove a-all o-of y-you, 'm s-sorry I-I d-don't sh-show it..." He gets out through his sobs. "Y-Yellow, 'M s-sorry, H-Hyung, 'm so s-sorry." You mentally slap yourself and lay down next to him, pulling him into your arms and hugging him close and tight. "No, Minnie, I'm sorry. I know you love them, I know you care about them, I should be the one apologizing, baby, I'm so sorry." You bury your face into his neck and hold him close both for your sake and his.

You feel so bad for causing his drop, of course you know that his coldness is just an act, you were just meaning to tease him. "Hyung is sorry, Minnie. I'm so so sorry." You kiss his cheek and lean back to look down at him, cupping his face with one hand and wiping his tears away. "I'm sorry for going to far." He sniffs, taking shaky deep breaths before leaning his forehead on yours. "Minnie?" "Hyung?" "You back with me?" "Y-Yeah." "You know when you dropped?" "L-Last I-I remember...w-was asking t-to touch you..." You sigh, bringing him back into your arms and tucking him under your chin.

"C'mon, let me clean you up." "W-Wait, but..." "Min, you just dropped, darling, I don't think it's best to keep going." "I-I said yellow...not red...I-I still r-really what your cock in me...this toy is dumb..." "Min..." "Please?" "Only if you promise that when we're done, I coddle you and give you the softest of aftercare and not just laying in bed after." "It's the middle of the night..." "Okay, fine, I'll just use a rag but let me make it up to you tomorrow?" "Sure."

You kiss him softly, like he was glass, before pulling back. "I really didn't have any way for you to make it up to me, I was just gonna fuck you and make you cum so it was more of a reward for you." "Is it still a reward?" "Of course but, now, you choose the position." "Any that let me look at and hold you." You laugh and gently pull him back onto your lap.

Carefully, you move the fabric covering him out of the way and slowly pull the toy out of him. "Shit." He pushes out with a heavy breath as you gently squeeze his hip. "Fuck...s'empty..." "Hold on, won't be for long." You set it aside and hold his other hip as he pulls down your waistband out of the way for you and pulls out your cock. Dragging him forward slightly, he wraps his arm around your neck as he lines you up with his entrance before sinking down. "Ah~ Fuck." His head drops down as his hand moves up a bit and he hovers over his clit. "Touch yourself, Kitten, go ahead."

His fingers instantly circle the bundle of nerves and his head falls onto your shoulder, his thighs moving automatically to ride you and you wrap your arms around his back to take control, thrusting up into him causing wet sounds to occur every time you thrust in and out of his soaked cunt.

"Fuck~ Right there." You thrust into that spot inside him quickly and you draw continuous moans out of him with every hit with your tip. "Move you fingers faster, baby." His fingers rub faster, drawing him closer to his continuously lost high.

"Open." He lifts his head and parts his lips, letting you put your thumb into his mouth and he closes around the digit. His tongue swirls around your thumb before you remove it and bring it down, glancing down to move his hand out of the way before looking back up at him and replace his fingers with your thumb. "Oh fuck~" His legs move again and bounce inconsistently, meeting your hips every couple bounces.

Your thrusts pick up speed along with your thumb and you throw your head back, groaning as your own high approached, then look back at him. "Fuck, Hyung, m'gonna cum, shit~ Ah~" He moans softly, his hips bucking forward and your thumb becomes firm against his clit. "Me too, Minnie. Go ahead, Kitten, you took my teasing so well, such a good boy, let go baby." Your thrusts go impossibly faster, at least to Minho, and he clenches around your length so tight you unexpectedly stop with a stutter, your thumb keeping its momentum as your sunk deep inside him.

"Fuck, Fu- Hyung, don't stop, don't- Ah Shit!" His moan drags from the back of his throat, morphing into a soft squeal as his walls flutter around you and he tightens around you even tighter, his hand flying to your wrist as he rocks his hips into your hand. "Fuck, Min." His tightness, the slickness, and his absolutely lewd sounds cause you to cum deep inside him shortly after, thrusting so shallowly and deeply it's as if he could feel you fuck your cum into his cervix.

"F-Fuck...s'deep, Ah~" His hips rock against yours before he's pulling your hand away and his thighs shake. He pushes your shoulders to push you back slightly before falling onto your chest and your slip out of him. You hiss and he moans, leaning his forehead on your peck as his muscle contract and he's too weak to stop your cum from dripping out of him. "Shit." He mutters quietly and grabs the toy from before and slowly inserts it into him as a temporary plug despite the multiple drips already staining your sweats.

Laying back on your chest, he wraps his arms around you. "Can we just stay here?" "We're all yucky though." "So? That's never stopped us from cleaning up later." You sigh, both having no energy and your jet lag catching up to you. "I'm only agreeing..." You struggle but manage to kick your sweats off then cover the both of you up. "...because I think my jet lag is catching up to me and I'm tired." "Good, sleep now."

He kisses your chest where he lays and you kiss the top of his head, closing your eyes and promptly passing out.

[partycatty]

johnny cage > coquette doll

you had a strange way of showing affections, namely decorating your friends.

notes: i found motivation by reading more fics! it's been hard coming up with ideas, i feel like i've used my entire brain for them but this one came to me; short and sweet :)

[ masterlist ]

• you and johnny laid beside each other on the couch, comfortable in each other's presence and clinging to each other after the events of the tournament. out of all the other boys, you found yourself growing attached to the actor of all choices, and he found himself doing the same. the only difference? johnny was astronomically, without a single doubt down bad for you. he adored you so much it made his stomach twist and sweat pool at his temple. you made the cocky man nervous, and yet oh-so confident when you were around.

• you were harboring a crush too, you were just leagues better at hiding it. something about his desperation for your attention kept your little act going. it might have been cruel, but you dared not risk losing the puppy eyes he'd give you when you playfully ignore his advance.

• johnny had dressed down for you this day, complaining about how tight his waist was pulled from the belt when all he wanted to do was be comfortable with his favorite person. he wore a t-shirt, an intentionally tight one, and sweats. you were in your pajamas, highly considering spending the night and saving yourself from the drive home for the night, especially when johnny was just so inviting and so warm pressed against you innocently.

• his arms were thick, and you wonder if he only flexes this hard when you're around. the sleeves are practically squeezing the muscle and exposing a great deal of his toned upper arm. it gave you an idea.

• "hold on, shut up," you stop johnny before he adjusts on the couch, not letting his thigh move from being flush against yours. "stay there. i wanna do something."

• "something," he repeats playfully, slinging an arm around your shoulder. "you're getting my hopes up, doll, you know that?"

• "shut up," you repeat again, still unserious as you reach into your bag on the floor and pull out a long, pink ribbon. "give me your arm."

• "you have it," he replies, nudging the arm around you to give it your attention. "you want more of me, you'll have to climb—" you grab his arm and pull it over your head, placing his hand palm-down onto his own thigh. he tilts his head, giving you a funny look. "can i ask, or will you tell me to shut up again?"

• "you're so coquette," you mutter, fidgeting with the ribbon and straightening it out. "so coquette core."

• "i'm sorry?" he lets out a choked laugh, smirk toying his lips out of curiosity. "you're gonna have to help me out here, you're losing me."

• you don't respond to his confusion, taking one of the ribbons and wrapping it around his bicep. it fits nearly perfectly, just enough length to allow you to wrap it in a pretty bow. you pull back and admire your work, johnny's arm now cutely decorated with a single pink bow.

• "thank you," he mutters out, inspecting it carefully, cautiously to avoid undoing the bow. "i feel so pretty."

• "you look so pretty," you reply satisfied, grinning up at him and making his resolve to not kiss you incredibly weak. "pretty boy."

• he chokes again at your words, ears reddening under the nickname. he can't bring himself to keep looking at you, you eat away at him as he leans his head back and faces the ceiling. "you can't just say that," he murmurs, and you catch the tip of his nose reddening too. "so mean to me."

• "i've never been mean to you, you big baby," your voice is elsewhere as you pull another ribbon from your bag, and johnny wonders if you came prepared with those. as he leans his head back to teasingly complain, you wrap more bows around his body.

• he physically jerks when you reach around his thigh, wrapping one around the thickness of it that only flustered him further. to counter it, you wrap one around his wrist, then an individual finger.

• just as he thinks you're finished up, you climb up to him, sitting on one of his thighs. he sits upward, fast, nearly bumping your noses together as his eyes widen in shock.

• "hello there," he sheepishly says, hands instinctively falling to your waist to keep you stable.

• "hi," you reply absentmindedly, reaching your own hands up to his hair. you find the longest lock, one near the top of his head and tie a tinier ribbon around it, gently tugging and pulling at his locks while he sits there absolutely enamored by you. his gaze never leave yours, and you pretend not to notice his loving stare that seems to explore every fleck of color in your eyes.

• rubbing your fingers across his scalp for a moment and earning an honest groan from his lips, you're satiated with your work. you pull your head back, admiring the ribbons around various parts of his body, including a very cute one done up right on top of his head, a tuft of hair sticking upward at the hairdo.

• "how do i look?" he asks, grinning lazily.

• "like a little doll," you reply sweetly, patting his cheek. "so coquette."

• pulling away from his grasp, johnny crosses his arms, the skin bulging around the ribbon as he flexed. "are you going to explain what that means, now, or am i just gonna be coquette forever?"

• "forever," you confirm with a sly nod. johnny pulls his phone out and inspects himself with the front camera, sure to snap a couple pictures that show off as many as the ribbons as he could.

• his followers are blessed with a photoshoot on his instagram story, showcasing all his little decorations courtesy of you. #coquettejohnny trends for a minute there... and he still hasn't bothered to google it. whatever you want to call him sounds good to him.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Swim

G/N. Fluff. Missed this menace.

Finally. After all the time.

There's a sport that Taehoon doesn't excel at.

That he looks sorta pathetic doing. A fish out of water, except... Literally. Or maybe literally the opposite.

Seong Taehoon is a pretty atrocious swimmer. Sure he can swim, but he's neither fast nor skilled. Which is surprising considering his height and his long limbs; his strong shoulders and wide back and legs no one wants to be on the receiving end of.

You outlasted him after lengths and lengths of the pool with breast stroke. You're far quicker at front crawl and somehow he doesn't float particularly well for backstroke.

(Neither of you can do butterfly for shit, but that's a stroke for the weirdos or the gifted, likely both, so you ignore that.)

It's hilarious, and his silent outrage at his un-athleticness makes it all the funnier. Mood growing surlier as your swimming session goes on, only staying due to competitiveness and denial.

You do nothing to help. Taunting and teasing, mocking and provoking. So much so, that even you in your swimwear doesn't uplift him anymore.

Taehoon's saving grace is, he's a pretty comma atrocious swimmer.

And heavens, is pretty an understatement.

He's distracting enough when you're out and about together, fully clothed. Strip him of his jeans and jackets and even the absurdly tight shirts; put him in a pool and in swim trunks... Well.

There is hard muscle as far as the eye can see and legs that go on for miles. Rivulets running down his chest and highlighting his abs. Skin tantalising, flushed with exertion and cheeks tinged pink.

Even the stupid mullet that you at first tolerated, then grown fond, is slicked back. His hair, maybe for the first time ever, is hot. Oh so pretty features on full display and you know everyone here has given Taehoon at least a glance.

If you weren’t so obviously better than him, consistently beating him in the water, you would have no doubt had trouble keeping your hands off him.

"Let's go," he says, interrupting your ogling and shoving you towards the ladder.

"Taehoon~" you whine, trying to plant yourself to no avail, and he gives you a look, "Don't you wanna swim a bit more?"

"I've had enough of your gloating, you lil asshole," he gives you another push, "and enough of people staring."

"You're too pretty for your own good," you scoff, "Cry me a river."

Taehoon exhales, short and sharp to signal he's at the end of his patience with you. It takes a good while longer to get there than for other people, yet he gets there nonetheless.

"I mean at you, dumbass."

"Oh," You notice him practically snarling at a group of boys nearby who have been looking for a moment too long.

"Yeah oh,” he mimics, “Now let's get the fuck out of here."

"Like you care," Taehoon might be right, but why give up the chance to poke the bear one last time? "You're only saying that because you're a sore loser."

He narrows his eyes, displaying full well his annoyance. "You want me to beat your ass?"

"Only if you can catch me!" You kick off the side and start swimming away at speed.

Taehoon shouts, swallowing a mouthful of water as he ungracefully cuts through the water.

"You fuck-!" Cough, sputter. "Get back here!"

[laurfilijames]

Hey! I don't know whether you've seen it. I've stumbled across this pic recently and it hit me like a wave. Look at his physique, his arms, his strong legs, those hips... imagine wrapping your legs around his omg.....

Will, you fucking handsome hot son of a bitch, marry me!! Now!!

Oh, I've seen it.

But no matter how many times I have, it still hits me like a god damn freight train 🫠💦

All of what you've described are the exact things that make my mouth water (among other things...) when I look at this photo of that man who disarms me without fail Every. Single. Time.

Now, let's indulge a little, shall we?

---

Will wiped the sweat from his brow with the dirty rag he'd just finished cleaning his hands with, the heat from the blazing afternoon sun making the oil change on his truck a little more of a grueling job than usual.

His white t-shirt clung to his damp back, his sweat soaking through it so much it made it transparent, and as you walked up behind him, you could make out every sculpted muscle that wove through his thick flesh.

Hearing you come up, he glanced behind him, smirking at you with a tilt of his head as he unlatched the rod that held open the hood of the truck and slammed it down.

“Almost done?” you asked, dragging a finger up the length of his back, watching his smile grow as you did.

“Mhm,” he hummed, turning toward you to gather you in his arms, giving you the hug you'd been waiting for all afternoon.

His large hands began to roam your body, slipping down your back and over the curve of your bum, squeezing your cheeks as a low growl rumbled through him.

You smiled at him when he peeled away from you slightly, but Will was quick to move his hands up to cradle your face and kiss you hard, your smile erased as a moan was coaxed out of you instead.

Keeping his lips locked with yours, he bent slightly and gripped under your thighs, scooping you up so you wrapped your legs around his strong waist. You smiled against his lips, your fingers dancing along the back of his neck as you pulled yourself closer to his body, rubbing your core on his stomach as he took a step toward the truck and planted you on the hood.

Will stood between your spread legs, leaning into you to kiss you more, his tongue delving into the heat of your mouth and rolling along yours in a way that made you feel drunk.

Your hands were everywhere they could be; your fingers raking through the short, blond strands of his wet hair, your nails digging into his shoulders before falling lower onto his biceps, feeling the flex of his toned arms under your palms as he continued to explore your body at the same time you did his.

“I came out to see if you needed anything…” you breathed, pausing your kissing enough to get your words out.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice rough and heavy with lust.

He tugged you so you moved further off the hood, relying solely on the support he provided you with his sturdy frame, edging his hips closer to yours where he rubbed himself against you so you could feel him through the materials that separated you.

“I need you.”

[the-kr8tor]

hiii, i've been thinking for Fluffy Friday - Hobie walking gn!reader to their bus stop after a concert and giving them his jacket

like it's late, and they're both tired from all the jumping in the pit and he's making sure they won't freeze on their way home. just Hobie being both punk and a gentleman <3

hope you're having a good day!!

Thank you for requesting! Hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, love struck Hobie, FLUFF

It's fluffy Friday!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You're freezing your ass off waiting for the bus, you try to hide it from Hobie though; slyly rubbing your arms, trying to get rid of the goosebumps. You absolutely regret not bringing a thicker jacket with you. Your tired body doesn't help, legs tired from jumping up and down, cursing the government for taking out benches on bus stops.

Hobie stops mid sentence, too engrossed in the conversation, he just noticed how your lips slightly quiver in the cold, arms crossed on your chest, trying to act nonchalant.

"—You want my jacket?" Hobie's already taking off his leather jacket.

"No, you'll get cold" you try to stop him, hands on the leather, pushing it back towards him.

"I run warm, love. You need it more" He says softly as he drapes it over your shoulder, helping you put your arms inside the jacket. You don't protest more, savoring the warmth provided. Already giddy when you realize you smell like him now. "Better?" Hobie rubs your arms, adding extra warmth.

"Yeah, better. Thank you" you sigh into his touch, smile soft, eyes staring at him with so much fondness, you take his breath away. A lopsided smile appears on his lips, he's sure you're doing it on purpose just to see him all flustered.

He lets you win, chuckling as he hides his face on the crook of your neck, using the excuse that he's hugging you goodbye. You embrace him back, warming him up instantly.

"You're cold already" You whisper it to him like a secret, kneading the tired muscles on his back.

The bus arrives, saving Hobie from your horrid (affectionate) acts. The doors hisses open, you reluctantly let him go, Hobie holds you at arms length, cupping your face in his hand, admiring how the fluorescent lights from the bus highlights your face. He etches the memory deep inside his mind, memorizing how clouds puff out of your slightly parted lips, eyebrows relaxed, doe eyes gazing at him with longing.

You're not the only one who has that expression. Hobie mirrors yours, except for the content smile on his lips. The bus honks, ruining the moment.

"I've gotta go" you don't want to leave though, but your eyes are already protesting, lids growing heavy every minute.

Hobie scans the bus for any creeps that might cause you trouble. He finds none, only you and the bus driver will be inside.

"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" He asks with concern, it is really late for you to travel alone.

You slowly walk towards the bus, fingers laced with Hobie's. "You live on the other side of town" laughing, finally letting him go. You feel cold already. "I'll call you when I get home, okay?" Trying to reassure him.

"Yeah," he nods, watching you get on the bus. "Drive safely, mate" Hobie addresses the driver. The driver wordlessly gives him a nod.

Sitting down on the plastic seats, you watch as Hobie gets smaller and smaller as the bus drives away. Laying your head on the window, you smile at how much you had fun today, especially spending it with Hobie. Giddily wrapping his leather jacket closer to your torso. You've been dating him for a couple of months now, and you're loving every second of it. You probably look like a maniac to the bus driver, all smiley and giggling at nothing.

Distracted, your face almost hits the seat in front of you when the bus suddenly lurches to a stop. You look out of the window in confusion.

"Sorry 'bout that" Hobie's familiar voice talks to the driver. Are you that tired that you're suddenly hearing his voice? Or do you just fancy him that much?

Peeking down the aisle, sure enough you see Hobie sauntering over to you, a goofy smile on his face.

Your mouth agape, you fumble with your words. "What–how? You're–"

"I ran" He doesn't look like he ran to catch up with the bus, a running bus mind you. How in the world?–

Hobie gestures for the seat next to you, without warning, the bus suddenly moves again, you reach for his arms so he doesn't get thrown about. Guiding him down the seat, he gives you an appreciative smile.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, voice lowering so you don't anger the driver with the noise.

"I don't know, actually" he looked serious when he said those words.

You laugh from the belly, head thumping on his chest. He laughs a few seconds after you, finding your giggling contagious. His hands on the back of your neck, you feel how cold his palms are. "Oh I think I know" you say with a smirk, a hint of shyness peeking in.

"I'm not trying to sleep over at your place–"

"And here I thought you wanted me to make you a cup of tea" you warm his cold arms. "So this isn't a ruse to stay the night?"

"I think i just wanted to make sure you got home" he clears his throat, trying to sound nonchalant.

"All these spikes and you're actually a softie, huh?" You fix his windblown eyebrow. "How are you gonna get home now?"

"That's for me to figure out later" Hobie tilts his head, leaning to your touch.

"Okay," you lay your head on his shoulder. "Thank you for staying with me" holding his cold hand, you place a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"It's nothin'" He loops his arm over your shoulder. Cheek right next to your temple, Hobie practically melts. Comfortable in your arms, you feel the same, resting your eyes, squeezing his hand lightly.

You mentally scoff at the idea of letting Hobie walk in the dark especially in this temperature. You're already planning what tea to brew for him when you get home.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

[rivensdefenseattorney]

The Girls' Hair (Part 1)

Decided to post something a bit different because I've been thinking about it a lot. I have the vision of all the girls in my head, that I hope to get commissioned one day, but for now I'll just post bits and pieces here.

One thing I've really liked thinking about was the girls' hair because I think hair can tell a lot about who a person is, and that it often changes as they do.

Aisha

To preface, I love Aisha/Layla's hair in the OG series, but I just have a special affinity for locs, and then I saw The Little Mermaid last year, so it basically secured my vision.

Anyways, I imagine Aisha with long locs, since she's been growing them since she was a child. Throughout the years she's experimented with different styles and such, but she mainly keeps her styling to a minimum since she's very active. She enjoys sewing shells and beads from Andros into them, so she can always have a little bit of home with her.

Bloom

I imagine Bloom having more curly/wavy hair. She goes through the phase of thinking she needs to straighten it like many do, but ultimately realizing it's fine to embrace it. She fluctuates between occasionally straightening out her hair and wearing it naturally. Hair is also a comfort/shield for Bloom, so she likes to keep it long. However, sometimes she cuts bangs and layers, so she feels like she's trying a new hairstyle. More often than not, she keeps it simple.

Tecna

In the beginning I imagine Tecna keeping her hair very neat and clean. The cuts are angled, blunt, and precise. She rarely lets her hair grow past her shoulders because she doesn't want to spend time brushing through and styling long hair. She's not afraid of cutting her hair if at any point she doesn't feel like dealing with it. She often shaves the sides and/or underside, so there's less to maintain.

Later on, Tecna grows more comfortable with having "messier" hair, and comes to view her hair as another outlet to express herself. She starts to just have fun with it, letting her friends give her all kinds of cuts, patterns, and lengths.

__________________________

Winx Rewrite Master Post

Part 2

[pacifymebby]

Stormy Weather

Warnings: vague breeding kink, very nsfw

Thank you to the anon that sent me this idea I've been obsessing for weeks.

🍀🌿🍀🌿

The walls of your little vardo creaked as the storm raging outside rocked your little sanctuary on its wheels. With every gust of wind the wood which housed you, kept you safe from the battering rain, groaned and squeaked. In the sky above you flashes of lightning were followed by ominous rumbling growing more violent with every clap of thunder. As the wind howled the forest trembled but you and Bonnie barely noticed the bad weather, far too focussed were you both on other things.

Other things like each other.

In that moment, with your legs locked tightly around Bonnie's shoulders as he nuzzled into your neck and buried himself deeper inside you with every ragged thrust, the only sounds which mattered to either of you were the sounds you made as you came together once again...

Something had snapped inside you earlier that evening. Perhaps it had something to do with the weather... The four days of suffocating heat which had dragged out, stifling the English countryside as they scorched the land. The change in the air when on the fifth day clouds had rolled in and the earth had taken on that anticipatory dampness, the trees and the grass releasing pollen in preparation of the wind and the rain it could feel on the horizon so that the forest had smelt vibrant and alive... Heavy.

Perhaps it had been that anticipation, that rising tension which had bristled between every living creature, flora and fauna alike, a building static electricity...

Whatever it was it had gripped you both too tightly for you to bare for any length of time and though you'd tried to fight it something had snapped inside you when he'd come home from the town, a little sweaty from the hazy evening. And the sight of you with that longing in your eyes had been the last straw for him too. Having been thinking about you all day, losing himself to daydream after sordid daydream, he'd not been able to resist that look in your eyes.

You'd looked like you'd needed him. And he hadn't been able to resist you.

"C'mere sweetheart," he'd said pointing at the ground just in front of him as he'd dropped his dirty shirt at his feet, "let me get a good look at you eh?"

You'd come to him obediently, stopping just in front of him, looking up at him with a pretty little smile on your lips. With one hand cupping your cheek, the other grazing your hip, he held you as carefully as possessively.

"Look away from ye for a second and ye get even more beautiful than before... How'd ye do that?" He grinned, his thumb stroking your chin, resting in the dip of your dimple when you smiled wider and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him.

You couldn't speak for the blush glowing on your cheeks at his sweet words, all you could do was smile and hope to distract him with a kiss.

And of course once your lips had met his that final thread of composure holding you both together snapped for good and you hadn't pulled apart since.

"Y/N, my sweet little dove," he murmured breathless against your lips, his voice was low and gravelly and he sounded sweet as honey when he groaned your name through his high. You were trembling, the two of you shaking together, locked around one another, limbs tangled, forehead to forehead, his nose knocking against your nose as his tongue brushed over yours, "I love you so much angel," he said grinding his hips into yours so that you felt your cum mixing with his inside you as he fucked you deeper.

You were breathless, your chest bone glistening with a hazy sheen, little beads of sweat trickling over your neck, caught moments later by Bonnie's lips when he dragged his tongue over your pressure point in an open mouthed kiss.

He was insatiable with desire for you, even now, even when you both should have been tired out, collapsed in one anothers arms. Bonnie showed no signs of being worn out. Instead your shared orgasm only seemed to spur him on and as you trembled with pleasure he held you in his strong arms and nuzzled into you.

Your moan shook as his teeth grazed your throat, his tongue tickling a little roughly over your smooth skin. He was a man addicted, obsessed with the sweet sounds only he could pull from your lips and as he pulled slowly out of you, your cunt tightening desperately around him, the gasp you snatched upon his returning thrust made him all the more determined.

He wasn't quite done with you yet.

"Think you can manage another for me sweet girl?" He whispered, his voice low and teasing as he trailed kisses along your jaw.

You felt so fragile then, your breaths short and shallow, your thighs aching from having been forced open for so long. Your muscles sore and trembling. Your tummy scrunched as his words left that butterfly tension toying with you. You could barely speak around the pleasure his every thrust sent rippling through your body, his hips still grinding against yours, but for him you managed a little whimper.

"Tell me with your words little dove," he chuckled affectionately as he stilled for a moment. You held his bicep to steady yourself, stroked your palm down over his muscular arm until your hand found his and his fingers locked with yours. Your other hand resting on his chest you looked up at him in a breathless, desperate awe.

"Yes Bonnie..." you managed, your voice so soft he couldn't help but reach up to caress your glistening cheek tenderly.

You were shaking beneath his touch, so completely dependent on him and he loved it. Loved the power he had over you in moments like this when his every move sent you teetering closer to the edge.

"Good girl," he breathed dipping his head to kiss your nose as he ground his hips into yours once more before dragging himself slowly from between your legs.

When you whimpered, trying your best to lock your legs around his waist and trap him there he just chuckled. Smoothed his hand up your inner thigh and pushed your legs open a little wider so that he could move.

And when he did you felt yourself flush, suddenly self conscious realising that you were laid out on display for him and his eyes were trailing every inch of your body, admiring the view.

For a moment he froze, in awe of your glistening figure, your legs pushed apart and trembling, your muscles already so tired out. Your cunt sleek, your thighs stained with the silky sheen of your cum.

He reached out to you carefully, admiring the way you flinched before acquiescing to his touch, letting him graze two fingers up your calf, tickling them behind your knee so that you shook and a tried to pull yourself away. But of course Bonnie was much stronger than you and one hand on your knee was all it took to put you right back where he wanted you.

He watched you with a hunger as he dragged his fingers slowly up your inner thigh, letting them glide between your lips as he gathered the cum which was leaking from your cunt and scooped it up. His thumb pressed down on your clit and held it's place leaving a warm tingle to resonate through your core as he used his two fingers to push the remainder of his cum inside your cunt. He wasn't one to let anything go to waste after all.

"Good girl..." he said again, his voice barely breaking a whisper as his eyes trailed your trembling body in awe, as if he were hypnotised, held hostage by the rise and fall of your chest, your breasts rippling with goosebumps as he hovered above you and his breath grazed your skin. "Open your eyes little dove," he whispered dipping his head to kiss your cheek, his lips pressed to the tip of your nose when he told you again. "Look at me sweetheart, let me see your pretty eyes.." he said gently as his fingers moved slowly pumping inside you.

He curled them just as your eyes fluttered open, getting a kick out of the dilation of your pupils when you locked eyes with him and another gasp left your parted lips.

"You're doing so well sweet girl," he hushed you, his thumb stroking your cheek tenderly as he began to trail his soft kisses down your neck and over your collar bones.

Your cunt pulsed around his fingers as he slipped a third inside you, your walls clenching needily as his thumb rubbed your clit in slow circles.

You could barely speak, your breaths shivery as he drew another sweet little moan from your lips. You could feel your heart beginning to race again, could feel that heat washing over you as you shook beneath his touch. But when you saw that dark look in his eyes you knew he was gripped with an all consuming desire just as you were. That no matter how tired you were or how desperate for that flooding relief you might feel, you were going to be patient for him. You were going to let him do whatever he needed to do to you.

More than that you were going to let him devour you and you were going to cherish every second of it.

You snatched another breath, so shallow as your heart flinched beneath his touch. His lips kissing down your body with a newfound determination. Every graze and nip a little needier than the last. And when his open mouth closed warm and wet around your hardened nipple you couldn't help the mewl and the whimper which tumbled from your lips as you squirmed beneath him. He was giving you so much, his fingers curling inside you rubbing your gspot with a purposeful determination. His tongue flicking over your nipple, swirling loving circles around you as he sucked it deeper into his warm mouth.

It was almost too much. Almost too good.

And as you writhed and whined beneath him he grinned proudly to himself, only pulling away from your body for long enough to remind you again how heavenly you looked. How pretty you sounded with his name on your lips.

"Bonnie..." you whined as he dragged his fingers from your cunt slowly only to silence you a moment later feeding you your juices, admiring the pretty way they glistened on your lips as you suckled on his fingers and blinked up at him with big teary eyes.

"Hold on for me angel, you're almost there..." he murmured gazing down at you in a fixated state of awe. His palm pushing your legs open wider as he ducked down between them, hovering so close to you that he could taste the salty sweet of your arousal on his inhale.

"Ahh," you cried out when he nuzzled between your thighs, his mouth closing over your clit, snatching it up in a warm suckle that sent a tug of desire through your nerves. You were only grateful for the storm raging outside drowning your desperate noises out.

Your thighs snapped shut around him, your hand rushing to his head, fingers curling in the tangle of his dark curls as you tried desperately to hold onto something, anything that would ground you in your moment of bliss.

Bonnie hummed with satisfaction as he slid his tongue between your folds, suckling gently on your lips as he kissed with a little more aggression. That hunger, that desire taking over completely.

It felt so good you could hardly breath and as you felt yourself dizzied by the pleasure he was laying on you you were grateful for his hand when it found yours. His fingers locking with yours, pushing yours down into the soft rug beneath you. Holding you in place firmly, rooting you gently as he kissed and licked at your trembling core bringing you closer to the edge with every flickering moment.

You could feel the desire building, that white heat gripping you, the knot tightening in your stomach as your thighs began to shake and a lower, more animalistic moan was dragged from you. You couldn't hold on any longer and as you began to whine and writhe beneath him you felt him grin against your core, his tongue swirling relentlessly around your swollen clit.

Your hand in his hair forced him down tighter against you as your hips began to grind into his open mouth and you felt yourself losing control. Feral with desire until finally that thread inside you snapped and you fell apart. Tears trickling down your cheeks as you cried out with pure pleasure and came undone completely.

Bonnie remained for a minute or two, his hand still holding yours, his thumb caressing your palm gently as his other hand smoothed over your thigh slowly. Everything about his movements sweet and soft as he kitten licked at your clit to bring you down gently. His kisses warm and soft too as he trailed a line from your core to your knee and then back up.

"Such a good, sweet girl..." he murmured as he pressed a kiss to your womb and let his lips linger as he smoothed his hand up your body to hold your hip. "So fuckin beautiful.." he said as he hovered above you and held your hand in his, holding your palm to his lips to kiss it softly. Letting his lips graze each of your finger tips. Gazing down at you with all the love in the world.

You closed your eyes, smiling despite your breathlessness, the rosy flush which had washed over your body and which stained your cheeks.

"Think I just died a little bit..." You whispered, your voice still feeble and shakey as you smiled and let out a self conscious little giggle.

A grin split across Bonnie's face then, his eyes lit up with pride as he settled down beside you, his fingers pushing your hair from your face. He took your chin between his thumb and fingers and guided your gaze to meet his, his eyes flickering over your features tenderly. And when he dipped his head to kiss your cheek he collected each of your tears with his lips and let you taste the salt when he met you for another tender kiss.

Taglist

@zablife @jomarch-wannabe @impossibleheartflower @inalovesrabbits-blog

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@everysage

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[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag babes! @guiltyasdave • nsfw under the cut! 18+ MDNI!

wip #1 • show me a little bit of spine! feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

'five x-men walk into a bar, only three walk out…'

oops i don't have a sneak peek for this one...sorry chickens.

this is an official part two to "all's fair in love and viscera" cause i can't leave them alone to save my life! i finally decided on the name crimson for this specific reader, and the au as a whole will be called the to the bone universe (that’s also how it’ll be tagged on my acc!!!)

this is jealous!logan getting down and dirty in a bar bathroom after a special someone makes a move on his girl...wink wink nudge nudge. a special guest! a very special guest, cause what better way is there to get a man off their ass and admit they like you than dirty dancing with another man in front of him.

think degradation, biting, pain kink (obvi wtf). there's also some emotional constipation and just a hint of angst. it'll be so fun!

wip #2 • says he needs it bad (oh so very bad) feat. sub!logan howlett (& crimson!)

'it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…'

double oops i don’t have a sneak peek for this one either…pls forgive me!

this is also apart of the to the bone universe but it's more like a non-connecting little blurb than another part...if that makes sense lol i just wanted to write more crimson!

all this is thanks to a lovely anon who sent in a req desperately needing me to speak on sub!logan. it's funny because ofc i'll speak on sub!logan wtf who do you think i am. it's honestly one of the fluffiest, softest things i've ever written...established relationship is really locking my ass down. it's still filthy though don't worry! think riding, think pain kink, think light dustings of a breeding kink. i really don't know how to explain this lmao it's gonna be great trust me!

wip #3 • hunting for sport... feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

'there's a big bad wolf somewhere in these woods...'

You scramble backwards, stuck watching the way the brush starts to rustle as he gets closer. You push yourself back to your feet, muscles screaming in protest as you break into a sprint. It's all in vain, you know it is. He's only playing with you, letting you tire yourself out. He’s known where you’ve been the whole time, could smell you the whole time, could hear you the whole time. The two of you have been at this long enough now, his patience is starting to run thin. He's right behind you, if the violent thrashing of the brush over your shoulder getting louder is any indication. The dull sound of claws ripping through the forest floor growing closer and closer before the entire woods suddenly tilts on its axis.

this is also in the to the bone universe! can you tell that i'm really into this au? i physically can't stop writing them...another little fic that's outside the events of parts one and two :))) who would i be if i didn't write a chase fic for this man? that's the real question. more violence heavy than the other fics listed, i got bit by the freak bug and i need to write nasty sexy violence sorry babes.

wip #4 • give it to me like a man! feat. dbf!patrick zweig

'patrick comes to your college graduation party, he gives you the best gift...'

“Yeah, I've been pretty busy since the season started. Lot’s of traveling and shit, you know?” Your dad hums in agreement, nodding his head lazily. “For sure, my schedule has been killer this season.” He brags shamelessly, tone heavy with understanding like he and Patrick are in the same boat. Only your dad’s boat is a three million dollar yacht sailing to cushy televised matches and Nike shoots while Patrick is floating on a dinghy to some barely media covered ITF matches. “It’s a miracle I even had time to fly in for the party, isn’t that right sweetheart?” Your hand slides up the length of his cock in one slow motion, your palm grinding over the tip through the denim. “Yeah, daddy.” You say, voice going light and airy around the edges. Patrick thinks it’s being said to your dad, but when his eyes flick over to you, you’re already looking at him. Eyes half-lidded and shiny as your fingers brush over the metal of his zipper.

the long awaited dbf!patrick lol i know i've been dragging this damn thing out for like three weeks but it's the most "done" fic on this list so maybe maybe MAYBE it'll actually be posted soon...

anyway this is nothing but pure filth. just straight up nasty no plot at all pure sex and fucking hard gross style. lots and lots of dirty talk, degradation, risk play, sort of public sex, a barely there daddy kink...just me being nasty on a google doc for no reason!

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @avocado-writing (it's technically thursday but like oh em gee who cares just do it anyway chickens)

[zhongrin]

| ◆ ch. vago mundo ⑊ zhongli

--⟢ ii. little dragon, big dragon |   teyvat continues to change, and nobody can stop it. but morax hopes that some things stay unchanged.

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

◇ tags ◇ fluff, rex lapis in the olden days is a (lovable) menace

◇ a/n ◇ everyone shush and hear me out!!!!!!! smol dragon!zhongli draped around your neck and purring like a cat. that's it that's the post.

"is that…"

"that improper animal… this new generation of disciples are just too full of themselves."

"the divine one is just far too lenient… i fear the young ones will continuously abuse their kindness."

rex lapis squints his eyes towards the whispers of the less fortunate souls, inwardly scoffing at the open jealousy in their words. it's your gentle touch that pulls him out of his musings, and he lightly cranes his eyes up to stare at your visage.

"this is quite a commendable feat, rex. to have such precise control over your physique… keep this up and you might even become an archon one day," you chuckle, fingers lightly tracing the small horns on the sides of his compact-sized dragon form.

he's unable to stop the instinctive purrs which are reverberating from the back of his throat, amber eyes closing in bliss as you let him curl even closer around your neck, though he takes extra care so his scales won't hurt you in the process.

"you know, a friend of yours came to find me the other day. guizhong, i think was her name? she told me about your… excursions."

the low purring immediately stops, and you hold back a laugh when you feel the little dragon shift uneasily around you.

"were those glaze lilies you gave me the other day from guizhong's little garden after all, hmm?"

".... maybe."

"oh, rex… you know how much she adores them."

"but you said you liked them the last time she showed you…"

"i do, but that doesn't mean you can filch them off guizhong's garden."

"but- she stole my treasures to give you those earrings last time, so now we're even!"

you had to laugh at that. the petty little squabbles from the younger acolytes are always one of your constant sources of entertainment, and this one is no different. you find the dynamics of this particular group amusing, and you can't deny that you might be a little biased when it comes to them. especially to the little dragon. he's witty and a little cheeky, just like all the hatchlings, but something tells you that he'll grow into an individual to be feared if he gains enough wisdom over the few hundred - or thousand, years.

you can only hope you'll be there to witness it when the time comes.

"i suppose, little wyrmling."

rex huffs, tail flopping back to your shoulder, snuggling closer around your neck.

"you didn't have to do all that, you know. i think they deserve to be angry."

morax shakes his head stubbornly as he closes the door of your bedroom behind the two of you. his hand lands on the small of your back and he leads you further into the room.

"while i have seen you making many mistakes throughout the olden times, i know you will always strive to do what you can to make up for it. i would never wish for dominion, but as long as i walk upon teyvat, there shall be no being who gets away with besmirching your name. and especially not in the nation i've cultivated to honor your very being."

you sigh at his tenacity and turn to face him instead, resting your hands on his chest and giving him your best patient smile. the hard lines on his expression smooth out, and you can feel him relax under your touch. soon enough his own hands fall back onto your waist, this time softly palming the sides of your hips, like a kitten making biscuits.

"though i'm honored, i think it's rather petty of you to go to such lengths when all they did was gossip… people have been working hard to rebuild the houses, right? an earthquake is just going to render their efforts useless…"

"ahem…. i'll admit that it wasn't my intention to react in such an… overly dramatic manner. it is my mistake. i realize now that i should have controlled myself better."

"oh, morax… this childish side of yours truly amuses me sometimes," you giggle when you sighted the reddened tips of his ears and the way he's lightly chewing his bottom lip in guilt.

sometimes you still can't believe that the rex lapis himself could be so… adorable.

"okay, enough of that! creator worship time is over! i want my dearest zhongli now, please?"

he perks up at your wish and you step back to watch him shift into his mortal form. it takes him a short few seconds, but it always fascinates you, the way he manages to do it so elegantly and the magical way his body transforms into a familiar appearance.

slender fingers absent of talons reach out towards you, and you meet him halfway, fingers interlacing as you nuzzle into his chest with a satisfied hum. zhongli's deep chuckle caresses your ears and he maneuvers the both of you towards the nearby armchair. but before he can sit down and pull you on top of him, an idea hits you and you pull away slightly to tug on his clothes.

"can i play with your hair?"

"it would be my pleasure, dear."

with a pleased grin, you grab the various cushions and blankets from the couches nearby, making a small nest-like surface on the floor instead. zhongli sits cross-legged on it as soon as you plop onto the higher chair right behind the small area you've made for him, and your fingers automatically tug off the hairpin that holds his hair down his back. you unconsciously hum a tune of ancient lullabies as you continue on to play with his long strands of brown-gold hair, and the god of contracts lets himself melt onto your hold with a contented sigh.

thousands of years may have passed, and you might have lost the memories of your olden days with him forever.

yet, as you continue to spoil him with your sweet words and comforting presence, he realizes that your love for teyvat, for him, no matter which forms and the identity he takes, has stayed true and strong even without those memories.

and zhongli realizes that it's all he could ever ask for.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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