#Reblog it and let me know who you are for me

[svtiddiess]

Prescription For Pussy

Synopsis: With Mingyu hidden under your desk as the intern keeps you occupied, you can’t resist the urge to tease him. But your playful antics only seem to fuel his desperation, turning him into a whimpering, eager puppy beneath you.

Pairing: husband!nurse!Mingyu x wife!doctor!reader ft. medical intern!Chan

Genre: smut, established relationship, non-idol!au, medical! au, mini-series

Rating: mature

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: petnames (puppy), public sex (Chan is in the room with them but can't see what they're doing), sub!Mingyu, dom!Y/N, oral (fem receiving), fingering, dry humping, Mingyu cumming in his pants, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Suprise! You thought the 1k celebration was done? Nope! Have another special bonus from me featuring the Sex Education couple. Enjoy!

Thank you so much to @seokgyuu, @gyubakeries, and @ylangelegy for beta reading!

And thank you to my twin @tomodachiii for helping me with the plot!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Raising an eyebrow, you fold your arms across your chest and fix Mingyu with a deadpan look as he casually makes himself comfortable on your desk.

"Don't you have better things to do than bother me?" you sigh.

"Nope," he replies, popping the 'p' with a playful grin, his legs swinging like a carefree child. "Finished all my tasks for my shift. The other nurses are doing their rounds, so I thought, why not spend some quality time with my lovely wife?"

Shaking your head, you let out another sigh and step closer. Placing your arms on either side of him, you trap him between you and the desk.

"Well, your lovely wife is a busy doctor with plenty to do, dear husband," you tease with a grin.

"My wife is so smart and successful," he says with a giggle. "I’m so proud she became a doctor."

You laugh softly and lean in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "Well, I was lucky to have the best tutor," you grin.

"And I was lucky to have a very hot student," he purrs in response.

"You were," you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting them on the back of his head. "It was adorable how oblivious you were to my flirting," you tease, watching his cheeks flush red.

"I wasn’t oblivious," he whines.

"Then why were you acting like such a loser?" you prod, giggling.

"Because I was shy," he defends with a pout. "You were so pretty, and I didn’t want to ruin it by doing something stupid."

"You thought I was pretty?" you tilt your head, laughing softly.

"Mhm," he hums, pulling you closer by the waist. "Prettiest girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And luckily for me, I somehow managed to make her my wife," he whispers against your lips.

You giggle and close the distance, your lips meeting his in a warm kiss. Mingyu hums softly into it, the vibrations sending a rush of electricity through your body. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, your tongues moving in perfect sync. The moment grows heated, the room suddenly feels much warmer. Mingyu’s hand sneaks down to your butt, giving it a playful squeeze that elicits a soft moan from you.

Just as the atmosphere turns steamy—

Knock, knock!

A sudden knock snaps you both out of the moment. You jolt apart, eyes wide in panic as the sound rings out again.

"Dr. Y/N, may I come in?"

It’s Chan, the intern. You glance at Mingyu, who looks equally alarmed, and in a flash of desperation, you grab him and push him under the desk. He shoots you a bewildered look, but you quickly whisper for him to stay put.

Smoothing out your shirt and skirt, you sit down at your desk and call out, "Come in!"

Chan peeks his head through the door, offering a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" he asks hesitantly.

"Not at all," you reply with your most professional smile, silently praying that the blush on your cheeks has faded. "Please, come in and have a seat."

Chan, a newly assigned intern at the hospital, is a bit naive but undeniably intelligent and brimming with enthusiasm for learning. As he starts asking questions from his recent rotation, you respond with a sense of gratitude, appreciating his passion for becoming a doctor.

Midway through answering, it dawns on you that Mingyu is still hidden beneath your desk. A mischievous thought crosses your mind, and you subtly slip your foot out of your heel, resting it on Mingyu. Feeling his hand wrap around your ankle, you fight to keep a straight face, resisting the urge to smirk.

You subtly move your foot toward his crotch, feeling him tense under your touch. Applying gentle pressure, you hear a soft groan escape his lips, and you bite your bottom lip to stifle a laugh.

While maintaining your conversation with Chan, you discreetly shift your chair back just enough to catch a glimpse of Mingyu in your peripheral vision. You spot him covering his mouth with one hand to muffle any sounds while his other hand guides your foot over his crotch, his expression betraying his struggle to stay composed.

You dig your heel into Mingyu's growing bulge, and you see Mingyu shut his eyes and throw his head back. A giggle slips from your lips, but you quickly disguise it with a light cough.

"Are you okay, Doctor?" Chan asks, his voice filled with concern.

"I'm fine," you reply with a smile. "Just a dry throat."

Without hesitation, Chan springs to his feet. "I'll grab you a bottle of water," he offers earnestly before hurrying out of the room.

The moment the door closes, you push your chair back slightly and glance down at Mingyu, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

Mingyu shifts his position and starts humping your leg. You laugh at his desperate state.

"Such a pathetic puppy, using my leg to get off," you mock him, and he responds with a soft whine. His movements get faster and faster, desperate to reach his high.

When you hear the door unlock, you quickly shift back to your original position, but Mingyu doesn't let up, continuing to hump your leg. Chan returns with a bottle of water, which you accept with a grateful smile. Taking a quick sip, you nod and encourage him to continue with his question.

Chan continues his questions, completely unaware of what's happening below your desk. Mingyu's movement starts to become erratic, accidental whimpers and moans escape his lips.

Chan pauses, looking around the room with a puzzled expression. "Dr. Y/N, did you hear that?" he asks.

"Hear what?" you respond, trying to brush it off.

"N-Never mind, I think I just imagined it," he says after a moment of hesitation.

You quickly shift the topic of conversation, and Chan soon forgets about the sound. You press your foot against Mingyu's groin as a warning, earning a muffled groan from him.

You feel Mingyu's hand kneading your thigh, and when you subtly glance down, you catch sight of a very hot and flustered Mingyu looking up at you with a pleading expression, silently begging you to wrap up the conversation and send Chan away. But you only smirk in return and move your leg against his crotch, causing his eyes to roll back and a silent moan to leave his lips.

As you glance back at Chan, your leg continues to brush against Mingyu's crotch, feeling his growing desperation for release. Suddenly, without warning, Mingyu's hands spread your legs apart. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but you maintain a calm demeanor. A shiver runs through you as his hand trails up your leg, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and you shift slightly, caught between surprise and anticipation.

You bite your bottom lip as Mingyu shifts your panties to the side, suppressing a shiver when the cool air brushes against your exposed core. Without warning, his fingers slide into you, drawing a sharp, surprised gasp from your lips.

"Dr. Y/N? Is everything okay?" Chan asks, his voice tinged with concern.

"N-No! It's nothing," you stammer, your voice trembling. "I just thought…I left the stove on at home. But then I remembered I didn't." Mingyu lets out a quiet chuckle at your pathetic excuse while Chan gives you a puzzled look. Thankfully, he seems to buy your lie and moves on with his questions, leaving you to deal with the heat rising in your cheeks.

Mingyu slowly slips his fingers in and out of your pussy, and you bite your bottom lip to try and prevent yourself from moaning. You try to close your legs but Mingyu's strong hand holds them open. He slowly picks up his pace, and you feel your body heat up; you really hope that Chan doesn't see the blush dusting your cheeks.

A soft whimper nearly slips past your lips as Mingyu slides another finger inside you. Your hands grip the edge of the desk, nails digging into the wood as you silently hope Chan doesn't notice the faint, wet sounds coming from beneath the desk. Your body tenses when Mingyu’s fingers brush against your G-spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that leaves you craving more.

"C-Chan!" you blurt out, cutting him off mid-sentence, then quickly clear your throat, flustered. "Can we, um, continue this discussion another time? There are a few things I need to take care of soon," you say, trying to sound composed as you urge him to leave.

"Oh! Of course, Dr. Y/N. I’m so sorry for taking up your time," Chan replies apologetically, quickly gathering his things and exiting the room. The moment the door clicks shut, you’re left alone with Mingyu once again, the tension between you palpable.

You immediately roll your chair back and grab Mingyu by his hair, yanking him closer as you lean down with a scowl. He meets your glare with a playful smirk, unfazed by your irritation.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" you snap, your voice low and sharp.

"Just helping you get rid of Chan," he replies with a grin, his tone dripping with mischief. "And it worked, didn't it?"

You let out a scoff, tightening your grip on his hair until he lets out a soft whimper. "You're such an idiot," you mutter, though there’s a flicker of amusement in your voice.

"Maybe," he says, his smirk widening. "But hey, I might not be a gynaecologist, babe, but I know my way around your pussy."

Rolling your eyes, you tug harder on his hair, earning another whimper. "Oh yeah? Prove it, then, puppy. Make me cum with your fingers."

With a devilish grin, Mingyu picks up the pace, his fingers relentlessly targeting that spongy spot that turns your mind to mush. A string of curses spills from your lips as you throw your head back, spreading your legs wider to give him better access. The tension in your stomach coils tighter and tighter with every thrust of his fingers, the room echoing with the lewd, wet sounds of your arousal.

"I-I'm close," you whimper, your body trembling as it edges toward release.

Mingyu's free hand sneaks to your clit, tracing slow, deliberate circles over the sensitive nub. The sensation sends a sharp moan tearing from your throat as you finally tip over the edge, your body convulsing with waves of euphoria.

After a few more pumps, Mingyu pulls his fingers out and brings them to his mouth, sucking your juices off with a satisfied hum. "Always so sweet," he murmurs, his smirk widening.

"Yeah? Then you should have more," you growl, snatching his glasses off and tossing them onto the desk. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you yank him forward, pressing his face firmly against your cunt.

Without hesitation, Mingyu dives in, eagerly lapping up your juices as his hands grip your thighs, spreading them even wider. Despite still being sensitive from your last orgasm, you tug sharply on his hair, pulling him closer as your body arches and writhes under his touch.

Shaky moans and breathless whimpers escape your lips as his tongue teases and prods at your entrance. Mingyu’s own muffled moans vibrate against you, sending jolts of electricity coursing through your body. Feeling the familiar coil of pleasure tightening once more, you lose yourself in the sensation, grinding against his face as if he’s nothing more than your personal fuck toy, desperate for that second release.

With a low growl, Mingyu hooks your legs over his shoulders, burying his face deeper into your slick cunt, determined to make you cum on his tongue. Your moans grow louder, his name spilling from your lips like a mantra as you teeter on the edge of release. Just as you’re about to tip over, his nose brushes against your clit, and that’s all it takes to send you spiralling.

His name becomes a chant, a desperate prayer, as your second orgasm crashes over you. Waves of pleasure ripple through your body, leaving you trembling and breathless. Mingyu moans against you, savoring every drop as he laps up your arousal, refusing to let a single one go to waste.

After a few final, lingering licks, he gently sets your legs down, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before tugging your panties back into place. You glance down at him, noticing the unmistakable damp spot on his pants, and a sly grin spreads across your face.

"Looks like someone came in their pants without even being touched," you tease, your voice dripping with amusement.

Mingyu smirks up at you, unashamed. "Can't help it when I've got such a pretty pussy in my mouth." You let out a soft chuckle as you reach for Mingyu’s glasses, carefully placing them back on his face. With a gentle touch, you smooth down his disheveled hair and wipe away the remnants of your arousal from his skin.

The two of you sit there, catching your breath, exchanging fucked-out smiles. But just as the moment settles, a sharp knock at the door shatters the quiet.

"Dr. Y/N, may I come in?"

Your eyes meet Mingyu's, and the two of you share a mischievous grin. In a flash, he ducks back under the desk, and you quickly smooth out your skirt, scooting your chair closer to the desk.

"Come in," you call out, your voice steady despite the smirk playing on your lips. As the door opens, you feel Mingyu's lips already trailing kisses along your leg, and you can’t help but grin.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @sashaaahh @xueisaaa17 @aeriyell @eshia16 @dreamingofpcy @archivistworld @kyeomiis @iwannakisspoutycheol @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @cherrybb96

[literallyjusttoa]

I think I'm gonna make a reblog chian of all the little phrases and Apollo uses throughout ToA, now that I'm rereading it. Bc like, he has such a unique way of speaking, and I really wanna dig into it, you know? Ok let's start.

He says "heavens help me" instead of "heaven help me" using the plural the same way demigods do with "oh my gods". I'm guessing this is an acknowledgment of other pantheons? Or I'm looking too far into it, I've just never heard this phrase with a plural "heavens" before.

He calls Cade and Mikey "Ruffians" . And he makes fun of the arrow for being Shakespearean.

He also refers to people as "Mortals" a lot here, which I remembered him doing, but now I want to keep track and see if he keeps that up throughout all the books, or if it peters out near the end.

"I thought how amusing it would be if I could make the snake tattoos around his neck come alive and strangle him to death" I honestly love how violent Apollo's thoughts can be sometimes. Like, you can tell he's someone who has done shit like this before.

I also want to keep track of all the little anecdotes Apollo brings up, so we'll start with the guitar contest against Chuck Berry in 1957, which apparently ended with him getting repeatedly stomped on.

"But something told me this was not she" II love how it's the little things that really get across how old Apollo is. Rick could've easily just said "It wasn't her" or something, but instead he had Apollo phrase this in a way that is far more formal, and more reminiscent of the grammatical patterns of old english. Idk it's just really cool.

(Side note that's not connected to Apollo: Meg's glasses are black? I feel like I've been living a lie, I've been coloring them red for years lol)

God his metaphors are just so striking. Like, I can imagine the phrase "Whatever was left of my pride turned into ice water and trickled into my socks" but I don't want to, because that's such a visceral feeling. I like that Apollo inadvertently proving how poetic he is by making the reader as uncomfortable as possible.

I think I'm gonna start crying out "Horrors!" when I'm upset to. I think I deserve that level of drama.

ahh the classic "My blessings upon you!" Again, I love how every little line characterizes him. Either it's overly formal, like before, or subtly arrogant, like here, or both. It's so fun.

I need to write him saying "Sacred Sibyl!" more. Because that is such a fun little term. Rolls right off the tongue, honestly.

I think I'm gonna leave it there for now, but trust that I will definitely be adding more to this later. Bc Lester-speak is so fun to really look into.

[yaniluvs]

“nerds don't date , right?” ⎯ how to lose a bet and your heart in seven days.

[ 정인 ] ✷ ‎. . things just get more interesting when you're fake-dating the hot nerd and are involved in a bet with him.

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑛erdy!jeongin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , forced proximity , classmates to lovers , uni au , fake dating , skz ensemble . 64OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. suggestive , as of now . ┆ 📹 ⋮ a y.jg mini series .ᐟ ֹ ₊

yani's note 𑁍ࠬܓ hihi >< so like, part two hehehehhehehe. this turned out to be literally double the wc from the previous one..... oh and i just crossed 8OO followers???? what???? like two posts ago i crossed 7OO, oh good lord, thank you so much!! comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, love <3

you had never seen jeongin this stressed in your uni year.

it had been barely a day since the dinner, and he was already acting like his life was spiraling out of control. not that you blamed him—you were a handful, after all. but still, the man looked like he was fighting for survival, while you?

you were thriving.

not only were you fake-dating him in front of his family, but thanks to him, you also had the perfect bet to keep things interesting.

and now? now, you were at the usual café on campus, sitting comfortably with your group—felix, ryujin, yeji, and minho—while absolutely basking in the aftermath of your deal with jeongin.

the blonde leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm. "so let me get this straight," he began, voice amused.

"you made a bet with the yang jeongin—topper, nerd, absolute try-hard—where you get to flirt with him for three whole months, and if he falls for you, you win?"

you grinned, stirring your latte lazily. "mhm."

ryujin raised a brow. "and if you lose?"

you waved a dismissive hand. "then he gets to ignore me forever, i guess."

yeji snorted. "as if he'd actually do that. boy’s definitely gonna lose."

minho, who had been silently observing all this time, sipped his americano before finally speaking. "you're really confident, huh?"

you flashed him a smirk. "min, have you met me? of course, i'm confident. i know he’s gonna fall for me. i learn from the best, you know."

felix grinned. "well, duh. everyone loves you."

yeji smirked. "hyunjin and jisung sure do."

ryujin laughed. "oh yeah, didn’t hyunjin say you were literally his type?"

you shrugged, fighting back a smirk. "maybe."

felix gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "oh my god. is this why jeongin is acting so feral? is he jealous?"

"no, he’s probably just pissed that i exist."

minho scoffed. "that’ll change soon enough."

"exactly," you said smugly. "so, obviously, i’m winning this bet. there’s no way i’m falling first."

your friends exchanged looks, all of them barely holding back their very obvious amusement.

"sure," yeji said, lips twitching.

"of course," ryujin agreed.

minho sipped his drink again. "i totally believe you."

felix just grinned. "this is gonna be fun."

meanwhile.

jeongin had never been this mentally exhausted in his life.

one dinner. one stupid dinner. that was all it was supposed to be.

now? now he was fake-dating y/n in front of his entire family and locked in a three-month bet that would undoubtedly ruin him.

and to make things worse? jisung, seungmin, hyunjin, aeri, and yunah were not helping.

"bro," hyunjin was saying, leaning against the café booth with a stupid grin, "you’re done for."

"over. finished." jisung added, looking way too entertained.

jeongin shot them both a glare. "i am not going to fall for her."

hyunjin raised an eyebrow. "really?"

seungmin, ever the realist, merely sighed. "jeongin, have you met y/n?"

"yes, seungmin," jeongin deadpanned. "i have. unfortunately.*"

yunah giggled, twirling her straw. "she’s really pretty, though."

aeri smirked. "and hot. and cute. and bold."

hyunjin nudged jeongin. "she literally calls you 'hot nerd.' i would’ve folded instantly." he said, dramatically putting a hand on his heart while pretending to faint.

jeongin shot him a disgusted look. "you have no standards."

jisung snorted. "and you have no chance."

"i hate all of you." (and we're back !!)

"no, you don’t," jisung said, grinning. "you hate that you know we’re right."

seungmin nodded. "statistically speaking, you're screwed."

"oh my god," jeongin muttered.

jisung clapped his hands together. "alright! place your bets! how long do we think it’ll take for jeongin to fall first?"

"two weeks," hyunjin said immediately.

"a month," aeri guessed.

yunah smirked. "three weeks, max."

"one week," jisung announced proudly.

jeongin slammed his drink down. "i hate every single one of you."

almost a week later.

you found jeongin in the library, because of course you did.

dressed in an oversized cream sweater, silver-rimmed glasses perched perfectly on his nose, black slacks, and expensive-looking loafers, he looked annoyingly good for someone who spent all his time studying.

unfortunately for him, you were here to ruin his peace.

sliding into the seat across from him, you grinned. "morning, iyennie."

jeongin didn’t even look up. "no."

you gasped dramatically. "no? that’s all i get? where’s my 'good morning, beautiful?' my 'you look stunning today, y/n'?"

jeongin exhaled sharply. "why are you here?"

you leaned forward on your elbows, smirking. "to see my lovely boyfriend, obviously."

jeongin twitched. "we are not fake-dating at uni."

you shrugged. "doesn’t mean i can’t flirt with you."

jeongin dragged a hand down his face. "i hate this bet."

"you literally proposed it, genius."

his jaw clenched. "i hate you."

you batted your lashes. "no, you don’t."

jeongin physically recoiled. "oh my god."

across the library, hyunjin and jisung sat at another table, watching the interaction with matching grins.

hyunjin nudged jisung. "one week?"

jisung smirked. "one week."

. . .

“i’ve decided that i’m going to end you.”

jeongin barely looked up from his notes. “cool. try not to be too obvious about it.”

“no, really,” you said, leaning forward across the library table, resting your chin on your hands as you stared at him. “i’m going to make your life miserable.”

jeongin finally glanced up, adjusting his silver-rimmed glasses with the most unimpressed expression you’d ever seen. “isn’t that what you’ve already been doing?”

you gasped, placing a dramatic hand over your chest. “wow. that was hurtful, iyen.”

jeongin twitched. “stop calling me that.”

you grinned. “make me.”

his fingers curled around his pen, and for a second, you wondered if he was genuinely considering launching it at your forehead.

the library was quiet, aside from the occasional whispers of students flipping through books, the dull hum of the air conditioning, and the muffled sounds of footsteps against the carpeted floor. your table was nestled in the back corner, surrounded by towering bookshelves and dim lighting that gave the whole setting a very academic romance kind of vibe—not that jeongin would ever admit that.

and, of course, the two of you weren’t alone.

like said earlier, across from you, at another table, were felix, ryujin, yeji, and minho, watching with way too much amusement.

they can't miss good entertainment, right?

and a few tables away, jisung, hyunjin, seungmin, aeri, and yunah, were also watching with expressions that ranged from entertained to downright smug.

because, honestly? no one believed jeongin was going to win this bet.

not even jeongin himself.

"are you done?" he asked, voice clipped, flipping a page in his notes.

you smirked. "not even close."

leaning back in your chair, you crossed one leg over the other, watching him with open interest. he was dressed as he always was—annoyingly fashionable for someone who didn’t seem to care about fashion. a fitted black turtleneck, an oversized houndstooth blazer, tailored slacks, and his signature silver-rimmed glasses that rested so perfectly on the bridge of his nose.

his black hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it in frustration all morning (which, knowing you, he probably had).

"you know," you mused, tilting your head, "if you weren’t so insufferable, i’d probably have a crush on you."

his pen hovered mid-air, his lips parting slightly before he turned to glare at you. "what?"

you shrugged. "what? i’m just saying. you’re kind of my type. hot. smart. dresses well. severely grumpy. i like a challenge."

jeongin’s eye twitched. "w—"

"oh my god," hyunjin suddenly groaned from across the room, throwing his head back. "can you two just kiss already?"

jeongin immediately choked on air.

your lips twitched as you turned to hyunjin. "not yet, jinnie. i have a bet to win, remember?"

hyunjin smirked. "oh, you will win. no doubt about it."

jisung laughed. "he’s already halfway there."

"this is a library, hello?" the librarian hissed.

"but we're the only ones here, miss y-"

jeongin slammed his book shut, stood up, and turned to you with murder in his eyes. "we’re leaving."

you blinked innocently. "we are?"

"yes." he grabbed your wrist and tugged you up from your seat, ignoring the very loud, very obnoxious oooohhhhhs coming from both friend groups.

felix gasped. "look at him. so dominant."

"i didn’t know he had it in him."

"they grow up so fast."

seungmin merely shook his head, unimpressed. "he’s just running away."

jeongin glared at all of them before practically dragging you out of the library.

now playing, if you love me by colde

the late afternoon sun draped the campus in warm, honey-colored light, stretching long shadows across the pavement. the air was crisp but comfortable, carrying the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee from the campus café nearby. a few students walked past, caught up in their own conversations, but none of them paid much attention to the very mismatched pair walking down the sidepath.

jeongin was suffering.

because you were practically dragging him.

"y/n," he grumbled, his arm stiff as you held onto his wrist. "why are you like this?"

you hummed, pretending to think. "born this way, i guess?"

jeongin sighed, shaking his head. "no remorse. none at all."

"absolutely none," you confirmed cheerfully, still leading him forward.

he didn’t know where you were taking him. you probably didn’t either. but that didn’t seem to matter to you. it was just one of those things—where you decided something, and everyone else just had to go along with it.

he really should have thought this through before making that bet.

the sky was beginning to shift into soft hues of orange and almost blue when jeongin’s phone buzzed in his pocket. he pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and immediately stiffened.

his mom.

he stopped walking so abruptly that you almost crashed into him.

"whoa—" you blinked at him. "what’s wrong?"

he held up a finger. "be quiet."

you snorted. "like hell."

"y/n."

you grinned, unbothered, as he answered the call.

"hello?" jeongin said, his voice immediately shifting into something softer, more polite.

"oh, jeongin! how are you, sweetheart?"

you gasped dramatically beside him. sweetheart?

jeongin shot you a look. a warning. a plea.

you ignored it completely.

"hello, ms. yang!" you chirped before he could stop you, leaning in way too close to the phone. "how are you?"

there was a pause on the other end.

and then—

"oh, y/n, dear! how lovely to hear your voice!"

jeongin closed his eyes. no, no, no—

you beamed. "aw, you're so sweet. it's lovely to hear yours too!"

jeongin wanted to die.

his mother laughed. "such a charming girl! i hope my son is treating you well?"

you turned to him with the smuggest smile, tilting your head. "oh, he’s wonderful, ms. yang. so sweet. so attentive."

jeongin gave you a blank stare, deadpan. you? a menace.

his mother sighed happily. "ah, that's good to hear. oh! that reminds me—jeongin, darling, you haven’t forgotten about next weekend, have you?"

jeongin blinked. "uh… next weekend?"

you raised an eyebrow, watching him.

"the family gathering, jeongin!" his mom continued. "your uncle’s wedding anniversary celebration. you have to come. and of course, you must bring y/n!"

jeongin froze.

you?

you? (i'd be offended)

he turned to you so fast you almost thought his neck might snap.

you, on the other hand, were staring at him with way too much excitement in your eyes.

he cleared his throat, forcing his voice to stay neutral. "oh… right. that."

you leaned in, lips parted in interest.

ms. yang laughed. "don't tell me you forgot?"

jeongin exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to his temple. "i… might have."

you gasped. "baby!"

he glared.

"oh, don’t worry, dear," his mom said, brushing past his frustration entirely. "it’s going to be a lovely event! you must come with him, y/n! i won’t take no for an answer."

your grin widened.

jeongin knew that look.

it was the look of pure evil. the look of someone who had just won. (no he just read too many comics)

you placed a hand over your heart, feigning surprise. "oh my gosh, ms. yang, really? you’d want me there?"

"of course!" his mother said immediately. "you’re practically family now!"

jeongin almost choked for the umpteenth time that day.

you looked so pleased.

"well, in that case," you said sweetly, "i’d love to come. wouldn't want to disappoint a lovely lady like you, ms. yang."

ms. yang sighed, completely oblivious to his suffering. "wonderful! oh, i knew i liked this girl!"

jeongin shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. why him?

"alright, sweetheart, i won’t keep you two," his mom said. "make sure to text me later, okay?"

"yeah, yeah," he muttered, still trying to process what had just happened. "bye, mom."

"have a good evening, ms. yang!" you called cheerfully.

the call ended.

silence. and then—

"you evil, evil woman," jeongin muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

you grinned. "aw, is my baby upset?"

"don’t call me that."

"oh, but i must," you teased, tapping his arm. "we are dating, after all."

jeongin groaned.

you rocked back on your heels. "sooo. a family event, huh?"

"shut up."

"your entire family is gonna be there?"

"y/n—"

"and your relatives?"

jeongin exhaled slowly, praying for patience. "yes."

you beamed. "god, i love this bet."

jeongin stared at you. "why are you enjoying this?"

you shrugged. "because you're not."

his eye twitched. "i hate you." (.........yeah, yk the drill)

"you love me."

"shut up."

you giggled, nudging his arm as you started walking again. "come on, hot nerd. we have so much planning to do."

jeongin sighed, dragging a hand down his face as he followed after you.

he wasn't going to lose this bet.

he wasn't.

but, why did it feel like you had already won?

—

the city was beginning to glow.

golden streetlights flickered on, one by one, casting soft halos onto the pavement. neon signs buzzed to life in the distance, painting the skyline in hues of red, blue, and green. the cool evening air carried a mix of scents—freshly brewed coffee from a nearby café, the faint spice of street food stalls setting up for the night, and something softer, like rain on warm pavement.

and in the middle of it all—you and jeongin.

he was still following you, albeit begrudgingly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat.

"are you actually planning on telling me where we're going?" jeongin asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

you only grinned, walking a little ahead of him, as you turned around, still walking backwards, facing him. "nope."

he sighed. "of course not."

as the two of you had left the campus a while ago, jeongin had expected you to stop at the nearest café, maybe a convenience store. but instead, you kept walking. past the busy streets, past the familiar landmarks, past the places where most students usually hung out.

and now?

now, you were leading him through quieter roads, where the buildings weren't as tall, where the sky was starting to open up above you, where the city lights didn’t drown out the stars entirely.

it was weirdly peaceful.

not that he'd admit it.

"you're too trusting," jeongin muttered, watching as you walked ahead of him without a care in the world.

you glanced over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "oh? and why's that?"

"you’re just… walking around at night, alone, dragging me—your supposed fake boyfriend—to some unknown location." he narrowed his eyes. "for all you know, i could be leading you into danger."

you let out a soft laugh. "oh, please. if anyone’s the danger here, it’s me."

jeongin rolled his eyes. "right."

"you think i'm scared of you, topper?" you smirked, nudging his shoulder. "you’re, like, the least threatening person i’ve ever met."

"good," he said flatly. "that means i can stop pretending to tolerate you."

you gasped dramatically. "so rude! and here i was, thinking we were bonding!"

"bonding?" jeongin scoffed. "you kidnapped me."

you hummed, tilting your head. "wouldn’t call it kidnapping. more like… involuntary adventuring."

"that’s literally just a fancier way of saying kidnapping."

"details, details." you waved a hand dismissively, your bracelets jingling softly.

jeongin shook his head, but there was a small—very small—curve to his lips.

for a while, the conversation drifted into comfortable silence. the only sounds were the rhythmic tapping of your footsteps against the pavement, the occasional passing car, and the distant chatter of city life.

"you come here often?" jeongin asked suddenly, his voice softer now.

you glanced at him, slightly surprised by the question. "hmm?"

"wherever it is we're going," he clarified, watching your expression closely. "you seem… familiar with the way."

you hesitated for a second, but then you smiled. "yeah. i do."

he studied you, noticing how your fingers fiddled with the strap of your bag—a small, almost absentminded gesture. "alone?"

"sometimes." you exhaled lightly, looking up at the sky. "other times, with my friends."

jeongin didn’t miss the slight shift in your tone. it was subtle, but it was there.

"and tonight?" he asked, glancing at you. "why me?"

you turned your head toward him, meeting his gaze.

and for a moment—just a moment—you didn’t say anything.

the city lights reflected in your eyes, turning them into something almost ethereal. the night breeze played with the loose strands of your hair, making them dance against your cheekbones. there was something unreadable in your expression, something jeongin couldn’t quite place.

but then— you grinned.

"because i felt like annoying you," you said simply.

jeongin blinked. and then scoffed. "wow. and here i thought i was special."

"oh, you are," you teased, looping your arm through his before he could react. "you're my favorite victim, actually."

he stiffened. "y/n—"

"you’re warm," you interrupted, pressing closer. "a human heater. i should keep you around more often."

jeongin let out a very long sigh, tilting his head toward the sky like he was asking some higher power for patience.

"you're insufferable," he muttered.

"and you are cute."

"shut up."

you giggled. "ooooh, that blush is telling me a different story."

jeongin groaned, refusing to meet your gaze. "i hate this bet."

"you love this bet."

he side-eyed you. "you know, i think you might be evil."

you only winked. "oh, honey. i'm very aware."

and the walk continued like that—small banter, stolen glances, the occasional brush of hands when neither of you were paying attention.

jeongin hated how natural it felt.

hated how easy it was to talk to you.

hated how, despite himself, he was actually curious about where you were taking him.

he didn’t get attached.

he didn’t, right?.

but with every teasing smile you threw his way, with every time your fingers lingered against his, with every moment you laughed at something he said—

he started to wonder.

maybe jisung had been right.

maybe this bet was a really, really bad idea.

the view you chose for me

the path sloped upward, curving gently along the hillside. the city behind you had slowly started to fade, the buzzing neon signs replaced by the soft hum of cicadas, the distant rustling of leaves, and the whisper of the evening breeze. the sky above stretched out like a painting, shifting from the last golden hues of sunset into the deepening blues of twilight.

jeongin slowed his steps, glancing at you. "are we almost there?"

"patience, iyennie," you hummed, walking ahead with a skip in your step. "good things take time."

he rolled his eyes, but a small, amused exhale escaped his lips.

then, finally, the world opened up.

the trees thinned, revealing an expansive hilltop that overlooked the city. a vast, open field of wild grass spread around you, swaying lightly in the wind. the horizon stretched endlessly, where the last golden threads of daylight kissed the deepening night. below, the city twinkled like scattered stars, a soft, pulsing glow of blues, oranges, and whites.

and above, the first stars had begun to appear.

tiny, glimmering specks against a sky that seemed endless. wisps of deep indigo melted into shades of violet, streaked with soft pinks from the remnants of the sun. there was something ethereal about it—something quiet, untouched, almost unreal.

jeongin exhaled, barely noticing how his breath caught for a second.

you, on the other hand, stretched your arms out with a dramatic sigh. "isn't it beautiful?"

he glanced at you.

the wind had tousled your hair, strands of it floating like silk against the dim light. your face, turned toward the sky, was bathed in soft twilight, the shadows curving gently along your cheekbones. your eyes reflected the distant stars, and when you smiled—

your lips curled into a slow, satisfied grin, and your eyes crinkled into tiny crescents.

something in jeongin’s chest lurched.

"yeah," he murmured before he could stop himself. "it is."

you turned to him, blinking. "see? told you it was worth it."

jeongin tore his gaze away, clearing his throat. "it’s… alright."

you laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. "wow. that almost sounded like a compliment, yang."

"don’t push your luck," he muttered, walking past you.

you grinned, plopping down on the grass before patting the space next to you. "sit. enjoy the view."

he hesitated.

then, with a small sigh, he sat down beside you, the grass cool beneath his palms. the air smelled faintly of earth and rain, the breeze gentle as it curled around both of you.

a moment passed in silence, the two of you simply staring at the sky.

you reached into your bag, pulling out a small snack box.

jeongin glanced over. "what’s that?"

"food, obviously," you teased, opening the lid. inside, neatly packed, were a few triangular onigiris wrapped in seaweed. "can't survive without snacking every moment,"

you picked one up and held it out to him. "here. i made these this morning."

jeongin blinked. "you cooked?"

"is it so surprising? i'm a good chef, i'll have you know." you frown, and wiggled the rice ball in front of him. "c’mon. try it. first time making them, so i need honest feedback, topper."

he hesitated, eyeing you for a second before reaching out to take it.

and that’s when it happened.

you looked at him—waiting, expectant, your expression filled with the kind of excitement that was so genuine it almost startled him. the soft glow of the evening light traced the edges of your face, highlighting the curve of your cheek, the arch of your brow, the slight parting of your lips. your lashes cast tiny shadows against your skin, and when you smiled, your dimples deepened, your eyes turning into crescents once again.

jeongin—

forgot to breathe.

for a fraction of a second, he didn’t care about the stupid bet. didn’t care about the fake dating, or the fact that he was supposed to be annoyed by all of this.

all he could think about—

was how pretty you looked.

and then—

you turned your gaze back to the sky.

the moment broke, like ripples in a pond.

jeongin blinked rapidly, forcing himself to look anywhere else. he bit into the onigiri, trying to act normal.

it was good.

really good.

but he wasn’t about to inflate your ego, obviously.

"it’s… okay," he mumbled.

you frowned, clutching your chest. "just okay?"

he smirked, raising an eyebrow. "i’m just being honest, like you asked."

you narrowed your eyes, then suddenly leaned in closer, way too close. "are you lying?"

jeongin stiffened.

you were right there, inches from his face, eyes locked onto his like you were searching for the truth. the scent of vanilla and something faintly floral drifted from you, and jeongin—

had to grip his knee to keep himself from leaning back.

"i—" he swallowed. "no."

you hummed, tilting your head. "hmm. suspicious."

then, before he could react, you grinned.

"well, i think i did an amazing job." you leaned back, stretching your arms behind you. "maybe i should become a chef. quit university. open a cute little café. i’d call it ‘y/n’s love bites.’"

"love bites?" jeongin actually choked on air this time.

"hey, careful!" your eyes widened, your hands immediately burying into your bag, pulling a bottle out. you hand it to him, after opening it.

"what? is it not a nice name?" you pout at the look he gave you after gulping down the entire bottle, still coughing.

"really though? love bites?"

"mhm." you laughed. "because.. love bites. and because i’m good at biting. and love. and actually, love b-"

"god forbid a man wants to have a snack in peace."

you burst out laughing. "jeez, relax, iyennie. i’m kidding."

"you’re really insufferable."

"and you are fun to tease." you winked.

jeongin groaned, looking away.

but his ears—

were very, very red.

—

the stars were out in full now, scattered across the endless stretch of the night sky. the city below twinkled in response, as if the lights of the world and the heavens were competing for brilliance. the grass beneath you both was soft, slightly damp from the evening air, but comforting in a way that made neither of you want to move.

the silence between you had settled into something familiar—not awkward, not tense. just there. a moment where neither of you had to fill the space with meaningless words.

but then again, you’d never been one for silence.

"so," you started, shifting slightly so you faced him, "i realized something."

jeongin barely glanced at you, still watching the stars. "what?"

"i don’t know anything about you."

he raised an eyebrow. "you know plenty."

"mm, do i?" you leaned back on your palms. "i know you're stinky smart. i know you have the ability to make even professors shut up with a single argument. i know you have the fashion sense of a pinterest model and the patience of a grandma stuck in traffic."

jeongin let out a dry chuckle. "that’s oddly specific."

"am i wrong?"

"…no."

"exactly." you grinned before tilting your head. "but i mean, i don’t know you. like, i don’t know what makes you tick. what makes you.. you. i don’t know what you wanted to be when you were a kid, what your childhood was like, what your favorite memory is."

jeongin stayed quiet, eyes flickering toward you briefly.

you rested your chin on your knees, watching him. "i wanna know."

"you’re way too curious."

"and you’re way too closed off."

he sighed, shaking his head. "you don’t need to know all that. we’re only dating in front of my parents. not here."

"yeah, well, i want to get to know you," you said simply. "and this is completely unrelated to the whole fake dating thing. it can be platonic, you know? i just think it’s unfair that you probably know way more about me than i do about you."

jeongin looked at you, thoughtful. "do i?"

"you tell me, topper."

his lips twitched slightly, and for a moment, he looked like he was considering something. then, with a small sigh, he leaned back on his elbows.

"alright. what do you want to know?"

your eyes lit up. "anything?"

"within reason."

you hummed, thinking. "okay. what did you want to be when you were a kid?"

jeongin let out a short laugh. "you’re gonna make fun of me."

"oh, now i really have to know."

he rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth quirked up slightly. "i wanted to be a detective."

your eyebrows shot up. "no way. detective yang jeongin?"

"yeah, yeah," he muttered. "i used to love mystery novels as a kid. thought i’d grow up solving impossible cases, catching criminals, the whole thing."

you grinned. "that’s actually kind of cute."

he scoffed. "yeah, well, then i realized i’d have to deal with actual crime, and i was like, ‘yeah, no thanks.’"

you burst out laughing. "you wanted to be sherlock holmes but without the danger?"

"pretty much." he shrugged. "so i settled for something else."

"which is?"

"business and english."

you made a face. "oh so we're almost twinning?"

"i thought you knew?"

"um no? we barely share any other sessions, only sometimes, business."

"well that's because we have different batches, genius."

"huh. when's yours?"

"at nine."

you clicked your tongue. "good lord, typical topper behavior."

he shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him. "alright, your turn. what did you want to be as a kid?"

you hummed. "i went through so many phases. i wanted to be a singer, a poet, an author, a fashion designer, a painter… i was all over the place."

jeongin’s eyes softened slightly. "you’re still kind of all those things."

you blinked, caught off guard, ready to fight. "excuse me?"

"no, i mean, you write. you sing. you compose. you’re always dressed like you just walked out of a magazine." his voice was casual, as if he wasn’t just casually complimenting you without thinking.

and for some reason—

your heart stumbled a little.

you quickly recovered, clearing your throat. "well. somebody is paying attention."

he smirked. "unfortunately."

you gasped, nudging his shoulder. "and here i thought we were having a moment."

"you should know better by now," he teased, but there was something gentle in the way he said it.

you huffed dramatically. "fine, whatever. but i thought walking out of a magazine was your thing?"

"i wouldn't mind someone appreciating fashion, darling."

"...moving on. next question. what’s your favorite memory?"

jeongin hesitated for a second. then, with a small exhale, he said, "when i was ten, my family took a trip to japan. we went during the cherry blossom season, and i remember standing under this huge tree, just watching the petals fall. it felt like…" he paused, searching for the word. "magic."

your lips parted slightly.

for a moment, you could see it—ten-year-old jeongin standing under a sea of pink, eyes wide with wonder, cherry blossoms falling around him like soft whispers of a dream.

"you still remember it that vividly?" you asked softly.

"yeah." he looked up at the sky. "some moments just… stick with you."

your chest ached a little at that.

you didn’t know why.

you shook off the feeling. "well. that’s a very wholesome memory."

he smirked. "what were you expecting? something embarrassing?"

"maybe," you admitted, grinning. "but i like this one, too."

a comfortable silence settled between you again.

"what about you?" he asked.

you blinked. "huh?"

"your favorite memory."

you smiled slightly, hugging your knees. "i have a lot of good ones. but, if i had to pick, maybe…" you trailed off, thinking.

jeongin waited patiently.

you finally spoke. "back home, we used to have power outages a lot. and whenever that happened, my mom and i would sit outside with candles, just talking. we’d make shadow animals on the wall, tell stories, and drink warm milk while waiting for the lights to come back."

jeongin listened intently, his expression unreadable.

"it was such a simple thing," you murmured, "but it always made me feel.. safe."

for a long moment, he didn’t say anything.

then, finally, he said, "that sounds.. comforting."

you glanced at him.

there was something warm in his eyes, something quiet and understanding.

and for the first time that night—

you weren’t thinking about the bet.

you weren’t thinking about how you were supposed to be fake dating in front of his parents.

it was just the two of you.

sitting under the stars.

sharing pieces of yourselves you never expected to.

and somehow— it didn’t feel fake at all.

it was peaceful.

you were still determined to learn everything about him.

not just for the bet.

not just for fun.

but because, if you were honest, he intrigued you.

and you always liked figuring people out.

so, after a few minutes of silence, you spoke again.

"so," you started, shifting slightly to face him, "we were talking about memories."

jeongin glanced at you. "we were."

"you know what we weren't talking about?" you raised an eyebrow. "your love life."

he scoffed. "love life? who said i have one?"

you gasped, pressing a dramatic hand to your chest. "wait, no way. don’t tell me you’ve never had a girlfriend before, iyennie."

"i literally told you i've never been on a date.. like on day one." he shot you a look. "also, don't call me that."

"i think you know that i don't believe that," you grinned. "also, i will always call you that."

he exhaled through his nose, clearly regretting ever agreeing to this conversation. "i’ve had one."

you perked up. "so you did!" your eyes lit up with curiousity. "so, one? as in, just one?"

"yeah."

"how long ago?"

he hesitated for a second. "three years."

your mouth dropped open. "damn, that’s—wait. that means you’ve been single since you were—"

"yeah, yeah," he cut you off, rubbing the back of his neck. "i just… haven’t really been interested in dating since."

"interesting," you mused. "so what happened?"

jeongin sighed, clearly debating whether to answer.

then, after a moment, he said, "she was.. nice. we just weren’t meant to be, i guess."

you narrowed your eyes. "that’s such a boring answer, yang. give me details."

he smirked slightly, shaking his head. "you’re really nosy, you know that?"

"and you're really secretive." you tilted your head, watching him. "it’s okay if it.. ended badly. you can tell me."

he was quiet for a beat, then finally spoke.

"it wasn’t bad, exactly. we just had different priorities," he admitted. "she wanted a lot more attention, a lot more time together. and i was…" he paused, exhaling. "i was too focused on school, my goals. she got frustrated. said i didn’t care about her enough."

you hummed. "did you?"

he frowned slightly. "i did care about her."

"but maybe not in the way she wanted," you guessed.

jeongin gave you a look, as if surprised at how quickly you caught on. "yeah."

you nodded, thoughtful. "so, you’re the kind of guy who expresses love in actions, not words, huh?"

he blinked. "i guess you could say that."

"noted." you grinned. "i’ll expect a bunch of favors and free tutoring sessions as proof of love."

he rolled his eyes. "we’re not in love."

"not yet," you teased.

jeongin let out a dry chuckle. "you really think you’re gonna win this bet, huh?"

"oh, i know i will," you said smugly. "face it, topper, you like me."

"i tolerate you," he corrected.

"that's what they all say," you laughed. "give it time."

for a moment, he just watched you, his gaze unreadable. then, shaking his head, he muttered, "unbelievable."

you turned your attention back to the sky. "alright, next question."

"you’re not done interrogating me yet?"

"of course not. i’m just getting started." you shot him a smirk. "so, mr. future ceo, what’s something you’re actually passionate about? like, not just academically."

he hesitated.

you raised an eyebrow. "you do have hobbies, right? you don’t just study for fun?"

"of course i have hobbies," he muttered.

"well?"

"…i like music."

you blinked. "wait, really?"

he nodded. "yeah. i don’t do it as much now, but i used to sing trot with my grandparents all the time when i was younger."

you stared at him, genuinely surprised. "you? music?"

"what’s so shocking about that?"

"i don’t know! you just seem like ‘i only study and occasionally judge people’."

"well, i do judge people." he smirked. "i also kinda life photography, for some reason."

"really? so he likes singing and photography? what kinds?"

"mostly landscapes. architecture. things that don’t move too much."

you hummed. "so, no people?"

"not really." he glanced at you. "though… i think i’d like taking pictures of someone if they were interesting enough."

you tilted your head. "like who?"

for a second, jeongin didn’t answer. his eyes flickered over your face, something unreadable in his expression.

then, with a small smirk, he simply said, "dunno. haven’t found them yet."

your stomach did a weird little flip.

you cleared your throat. "huh. well. you should show me your pictures sometime."

he shrugged. "maybe."

you nudged his shoulder. "that means yes."

"that means maybe."

"sure, sure." you grinned before shifting topics. "alright, what’s your biggest ick in a person?"

he smirked slightly. "besides you?"

"rude," you huffed.

he pretended to think. "probably… people who pretend to be someone they’re not."

you nodded. "yeah, i get that. fake personalities are exhausting."

"what about you?"

you didn’t hesitate. "people who can’t communicate."

jeongin raised an eyebrow. "that’s… a very mature answer."

"right?" you sighed dramatically. "like, if you have a problem, just say it. why do people make everything so complicated?"

jeongin chuckled. "agreed."

there was a pause before you added, "also, people who wear socks to bed. they scare me."

he burst out laughing. "what? why?"

"i don't know, it just feels wrong!"

"you’re insane," he said, shaking his head.

"maybe. but at least i’m not a sock-sleeper."

jeongin laughed again, and for some reason, the sound made your chest feel warm.

the conversation continued, shifting from childhood stories to embarrassing moments, from random questions to deep musings.

at one point, you found yourself just… watching him.

the way his dimples appeared when he smiled.

the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

the way his gaze softened ever so slightly when he looked at you.

and maybe, just maybe—

you were in trouble.

but you weren’t going to admit that.

not yet.

for now, you were just a girl sitting under the stars with a boy who was supposed to be your fake boyfriend.

and yet, somehow—

it didn’t feel fake at all.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan

[dragonoftheshadows]

I too, am angry. Yes, communication is easier... but it's communication of EVERYTHING. Lies, truths, doesn't matter - its everywhere and everyone is seeing it. To use the internet is to be bombarded by these things.

What the internet has done that hasn't eradicated fascism is ruined many people's ability to check the truth of things. How often do you see something on the internet and stop to check if it's real before liking/reblogging/commenting? I certainly don't always do so, even if I try to be careful.

People have the power to anonymously say things they might never hope to say out loud, and people can be carried away by the ability to anonymously support these things. I'm not saying anonymity is bad, per se, but this is definitely a factor.

Then you can have people - let's use Donald Trump for example - who can peddle a lie and have literally millions of people believe it before it is disproved. Take the dogs and cats one, right- he was claiming, if you don't know, that Haitian refugees were eating people's pets. That lie was first picked up by the MAGA people, sure, but carried by loads of people who weren't in that group. Even once it was disproved, there are still people who think that's true.

Common sense could tell you that, from a man with Trump's views, this would be a lie, but even just 5 minutes of googling at the time told you the truth, too. Think about where you get most of your news info from, where do you get most of your political knowledge?

Even if people sound politically knowledgeable or are usually honest/correct/reasonable, they are still fallable, ghey could make a mistake or they could have a very specific set of views on one topic and so on. I include myself in this, by the way. I make mistakes, I forget to go to a reputable source, I don't remember to check my facts. Go look up everything I say in this post and let me know if I got it wrong.

And, for news sites... is it a reputable one? Are they usually correct with info? Are they biased left or right? Who funds them? (In other words, regarding this last one, do they have an agenda that could affect what news they produce?) It's a bit of work, but this the world, this is people's lives we are affecting.

Now, back to Trump and his lie about the Haitian people. That's clearly a racist attack on these people and their culture, specifically what foods they might or might not eat. By the way, from a quick internet search, it's nothing that should make people from the US (Listen, I forgot the word for this general culture) uncomfortable, by which I mean nothing they themselves wouldn't eat.

Trump didn't even care whether they ate those animals AT ALL, which is how you know this was a racist attack on their culture and not an honest mistake - it wouldn't have been a mistake anyway coming from him, but I'm trying to be politically neutral here. That took me not even 30 seconds of common sense and a quick squizz at the internet to figure out.

Wake up people. This is what is destroying the world.

TLDR: many people no longer properly understand how to find a reputable source and think critically about whether things are true, in part thanks to the internet. This makes it impossible to eradicate things such as fascism. It makes it easier for people with extreme views to gain support and get into power, even if some (or many) of those supporters don't fully understand or believe in those peoples ideas.

I'm very angry that fascism is possible in a world after the invention of the internet. communication has never been easier and hating fascists is supposed to be a commonly accepted and widespread belief. this is extremely frustrating

[witherby]

36 REBLOGS ON FLIGHT OF FANCYYYYYYY

AYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA

—🦈

Yayayayayayayay! Enjoy!

Flight of Fancy

Part 3 of Damian x Winged!Reader

Masterlist is Here!

You spend a while in the air, examining bats while trying not to disturb them. The first couple clusters you approach all scatter with panicked squeaking and fly out of the cave's multiple exits. Damian watches you readjust your strategy, trying different speeds and distances, until you figure out that you can watch them peacefully if you don't beat your wings so hard and don't get closer than about six feet away.

You're so polite as you watch them, holding Damian's words in mind. You keep your hands laced together behind your back, content to simply observe, and Damian does the same of you but on a more professional scale.

Armed with a pad and pen, he takes down all the information he's collected of you so far:

Bleeds gold

Physiologically a teen/young adult

Wingspan approx. 2x their height

White wings, full range of motion

Capable of long-distance flight

Limited world knowledge (didn't know the word for bat)

Learns languages via salivic exchange

Kidnapped from home (unknown location)

Real name unknown

Date of birth unknown

Species - winged metahuman

Dubbed "Project Angel" by Le—

Damian is about to finish writing, but the notepad gets snatched out of his hand by his older brother Jason.

"Whuh'ssits?" He mumbles around a mouthful of burrito, holding his snack in one hand and the pad in the other, high above Damian's head.

"Red Hood!" The boy snaps, irritated and embarrassed. He jumps for the pad but it's too far, and elects to start climbing his brother like a jungle gym. "Give me that! I'm making important observations about my ward!"

"Ward?" He smirks, after swallowing. "What ward? Looks like you're cooking up another OC to draw."

Damian's cheeks flush a brilliant red. The domino mask barely conceals his embarrassed, wide gaze. Even if he was doing that, which he wasn't, it never hurts to plan out his concepts before following through!!

"Look up, genius! And go put on something to cover your stupid face!"

"Am I a genius or stupid?" Jason asks, shaking him off. "Are you gettin' shy on me? You love showin' off your art when it's done, what's the problem —"

The pad gets ripped from his hands and Jason goes flying when a powerful gust of wind knocks him backwards. You land protectively in front of Damian, with your wings fully extended to make yourself look bigger, and bare your teeth. Distantly, he notes that you have pointed canines.

"Are you injured?" You ask Damian.

"No," he says, lifting a hand as if to place it on your back. He hesitates, unwilling to hurt or disturb your wings, and drops it again. "Stand down. That man is my brother, not a threat."

"Brother..." you mutter, frowning.

"Kin," Damian tries, which you seem to understand. "Hood, are you injured?"

"Am I in— I just got blown across the fucking room!" Jason snaps. When he sits up, he's got the red, half-mask on that covers him from nose to jaw, and he's aiming a gun at you. The severity of his appearance is significantly dulled by the burrito innards splattered all over the front of his hoodie.

"Who are you."

"This is your kin?" You ask, dubious. "He is aiming a weapon at us, from which you could be harmed. That's normal?"

Damian's mouth forms a thin line. There isn't time to cover the family's overcomplicated dynamics right this second, so he just kind of shrugs and nods.

"Mostly, yes," he admits. "Let me by."

You fold one of your wings against your back so Damian can step past you, then re-extend it and continue glaring at Jason. Jason glares right back, finger hovering over the trigger.

"Put the gun down. I rescued them on my patrol tonight." Damian steps right in front of the pistol. Jason eases his finger off immediately, but doesn't lower it. "Batman has tasked me with keeping them safe until they can be relocated in the morning. They're not a threat."

"Tell that to my busted back," Jason grunts, but he does eventually concede to putting his weapon down, and climbs to his feet. "Jesus, my favorite fucking hoodie is wrecked. If I can't get these stains out, you owe me a new one, Winx Club!"

"That's not my name," you scowl, feathers ruffling. The rippling effect it has is mesmerizing.

"Do I look like I give a shit? I'm heading upstairs, this blows." Jason stuffs the gun in the pocket of his hoodie lackadaisically, then points a finger at Damian as he takes his leave. "It's bad enough you've got a whole petting zoo of animals. Don't start collecting humanoid strays, too."

"Go to bed, Red Hood," Damian grumbles, turning to you. Your eyes trail after Jason, maintaining your threatening stance until he's completely out of sight. You straighten up and relax your wings, slowly folding them up again.

"I dislike him," you say, crossing your arms.

"He's a... difficult personality," Damian says, fully aware of the hypocrisy of that statement. He barrels forward, curious. "You stood up for me, even when he was seconds from shooting you. Why?"

You tilt your head like he's asked a particularly stupid question.

"You saved me," you state simply. "I am indebted to you."

"It's my job to save others. I protect this city with my family."

"I am not from your city, and you helped me all the same."

"You're in it, however temporarily, which makes your well-being my priority."

You hum, head gently tilting one direction in contemplation. Damian absently compares it to a bunny, or a curious puppy dog.

"Even so," you conclude, "I will repay your kindness. If it's in my power to do it, you will have it, Robin."

"I don't need anything from you," Damian says, not unkindly. "There's no debt I'm owed. I wanted you safe, and that's the long and short of it."

You don't argue it further, but there's still a small frown on your face. Again, Damian's eyes are drawn to your lips. He feels his heart rate get a little faster.

"Would it sate you if I asked for knowledge in return?" He offered. "You can still say no; I'm not going to make you tell me anything you don't want."

You perk up a bit, nodding. You both snap your heads when Jason shows back up, shouting.

"HEY, DID YOUR NOTEPAD SAY "LEARNS LANGUAGES VIA SALIVIC EXCHANGE" BY THE WAY? HOW DID YOU FIND THAT OUT?"

Damian turns back to you with burning cheeks. He notices that you blush gold, too.

[justwonder113]

Drunk Chan confessing to you

Warnings: Cursing as always. Chan's Pov. Reader is gender neutral. Chan is whipped! Chan thinks reader is dating someone. Childhood friends to lovers. Misunderstanding with a happy ending. Chan is drunk but not that much, more like tipsy. word count-3.4k A/N- Sorry this took me ages to write but I hope you'll enjoy reading. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated.

My masterlist.

If you like my work you can buy me coffee❤️

Chan felt like he was about to lose his mind and weirdly enough it wasn’t because one of the boys did something to either piss him of or to just to be a general menace. No his distress was caused by a whole another thing or better say someone. How in the world was it possible for someone look this gorgeous, so ethereal and breathtaking on a regular fucking Friday?  

He knew he was whipped for you. He made peace with that simple yet not so simple fact years ago. He also knew that he found you absolutely beautiful. Whenever he tried to think of something beautiful your image always popped up before anything else. It was simple as that for him, like the fact that the sky was blue, the grass was green and you were definition of a word bewitching for him. 

Maybe it was a little bit of alcohol he had drunk earlier affecting him, maybe he just fell for you even harder right now (if it was even possible). But right now, as he watched you talk with the boys about god knows about what, he thought that you were the definition of the word beauty. He didn’t know if he wanted to stare at you for as long as possible and bask in your beauty and presence of if he should go to Hyunjin and ask him to teach him paint so that he could capture just how beautiful you looked. But knowing himself, even if it was possible to capture all of it on paper... Chan liked to think of himself as a selfless person, or at least he tried to be, but he was an honest man. If it was possible to capture how captivating you truly were, he would just keep it to himself, he would become the most selfish man in the world. And maybe he was. All he could think about right now was that your attention wasn’t on him, that you paid your mind to someone other than him. It didn’t matter that that “someone” was his friends, the people he considered his family. He wanted all your attention on him, he wanted you to look only at him. God he was losing his mind. When did he become so needy and desperate for your attention? He felt pathetic, how would you even look at him when he acted this way? He reminded himself something he did for years now. That you deserved way better than him, you deserved someone who would give you the world, someone who would cherish you the way you deserved. Even though he would do absolutely anything for you, even though he would make impossible possible for you, even though he would let the world burn for you, you deserved someone who would do even more for you and more importantly always be there for you. He wasn’t worthy of you not with the relationship he had with his work. God, it killed him whenever he had to cancel plans with you and couldn’t be there for you because he had to work. As much as he loved what he did for a living, the same love turned into hate because it kept him away from you. There were even times when he considered to just fuck it and quit, but what would he even do in life? There was literally nothing else he could see himself as. Without a job without a passion what worth did he have? What could he do?  

God, he felt pathetic. He was thinking about all this as he stood a chance with you in the first place. You always had looked at him and saw him as a friend. Maybe there was a moment there and there where it seemed that there could be something more. But your relationship although the years had been strictly platonic. He had given up on hoping for something more years ago. 

He had come with peace with the fact that he couldn’t be something more for you. Maybe it was for the good. You could live your life to the fullest. He was fine loving you from afar. 

God all he could think about was how cute you looked. Your hair was still messy, because you rushed here when you noticed that all of them were quite drunk when you called to check on them, and you were wearing that way too big hello kitty hoodie with the matching black pants Chan got you as a joke that you kept wearing because it was really comfortable. Your whole look today screamed that you only cared about being comfortable and that you were grumpy that you had to get up in the middle of the night to get your silly friends. Still in Chan’s eyes you looked like you hung the stars yourself. 

 God he was obsessed with you. There was no better way to describe the feeling really. Even now the moment your gaze shifted to him and you gave him that sweet smile... He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His body felt warm all over yet he felt his lungs were frozen in place. 

“How are you feeling Channie?” You asked him with that sweet voice of yours. In seconds his mind was swarmed with all the possible lyrics he could use to write yet another song dedicated Soley for you that he kept hidden in his laptop.  Well, hidden was a nice word. All of the boys knew of that file and Chan was more than few times relentlessly teased for his crush on you. They kept pestering that he should just confess, or at least show you all the songs he had written for you and let them do the job for him, but he just couldn’t. 

“Better now that you’re here.” He slipped before he could even stop himself. What if he made you feel uncomfortable? You two flirted from time to time, but lately he had this rising suspicion that you were seeing someone and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. All he knew was that he would rather die than make you uncomfortable with his silly little crush. 

Thankfully for him and his heart you chuckled and immediately his whole heart was filled with joy. “Well, I’m glad. I’m here to bring you home, because little birdie here told me that you had been asking for me all night.” You mused all sweetly. Chan’s head immediately snapped towards Minho, who grinned at him all triumphant. He would have to have a word with him later. 

“God I will kick his ass later. You didn’t have to come. I had no idea he told you to get here. You must have been tired.” Chan only stopped rambling when he felt you place your hand on his shoulder. You looked at him with eyes shining brighter than all the stars combined. It was his words yes and he would stand by it. 

“Calm down Channie.”  Your voice was calm, soothing. If there was one thing he had to choose to listen to till the end of his life he would, without a thought, choose your voice. Your kind, beautiful, soothing voice. He loved whenever you showered him with affection and complemented him. Hell, love wasn’t strong enough of a word to describe how he felt, he was on the cloud nine whenever you said even something sweet to him. But the thing about your voice and presence to him was that, even if you weren’t complimenting him or just being sweet. Even if you were just telling him about how your day went, he felt this serenity, this calmness. Whenever he was with you his mind always just shut down. It went silent. And he could actually enjoy living in a moment and enjoy his life to the fullest. Would there even be time when he would be able to convey in words just what you meant to him? Maybe then he would actually stop and be proud of himself as a lyricist. 

“Do you want me to be here?” Your teasing tone quickly bought him back to reality. 

“What kind of question is that? Of course I do!” Chan was quick to protest which made you chuckle. God there it was, that beautiful sound. Suddenly everything felt all right. 

“Whipped!” He heard Minho cough into his fist. He would really have to kick his ass later. 

Chan was about to ask you about how you were, how your day went, mundane stuff like that when he heard your phone ring.  “Sorry Channie one second.” You quickly checked your phone. The slight furrow of your brows was quickly replaced by a gentle smile. You quickly raised your finger to give you time and went a few steps away to talk on your phone. He couldn’t really decipher what you were saying to that person but your voice... You sounded do genuinely happy talking to that person.  

The ringing in his ears raised in volume when he caught you call that person “babe”. Did he fully lose you? Did you really start seeing someone? Was the distance between you so big that you didn’t even tell him you were seeing someone? Did he mess up so bad that you didn’t even feel comfortable confiding in him? 

Too caught up with the turmoil in his head he didn’t even notice for a moment a figure approach you. When he brought his gaze on you, you were talking with some man. Sweet smile adorning your face, your eyes shining brightly. Was it that someone? You weren’t talking on the phone anymore. The way you were talking to him you clearly knew him.  It also didn’t help him at all that the man you were talking to was objectively really handsome. There was no way he could compete with a person like him. God, he felt like a joke. There wouldn’t even be a competition. He should be able to face reality now. He had spent years helplessly yearning for you. He should know by now that he didn’t stand a chance with you. God, he felt like crying. 

The rest of the night was a blur. He didn’t even remember how he got into your car. Or the road you took. The last thing he remembered was how he saw you hug that man goodbye. Good thing that man wasn’t accompanying you that day and he returned to his friend group shortly after. He wasn’t sure he was ready to be introduced to your boyfriend. Not that he would ever be. 

It was funny how one moment you could be having time of your life and the next second it could be ruined by one single thing. Chan barely felt like talking, let alone smile or anything of that sort. And as it turned out his mood was contagious. The whole ride was quiet. Chan couldn’t even remember the time where all of them were in the same space and it was actually quiet. 

However, why you were silent and didn’t talk at all was a mystery to him. Did that man upset you? If that was the case, he would gladly murder someone. No one got to mess with you, not on his watch. 

“Channie?” Your voice brought him back to reality. He must have zoned out again. That two extra shots he drank as you talked with that man really messed with his head. As if he wasn’t already tipsy enough. “Are you okay?” You sounded worried. Was it this apparent he was sad? What was he even supposed to say? 

“I’m just tired.” He managed to mumble out after a second or two. 

“What do you think about sleeping over at my house?  We haven’t hung out in a while. I can not be deprived of my best friend for too long you know that.” You whined all cutely making his heart flutter uncontrollably. But he quickly got reminded of the fact that you were not his. And the small smile that wanted to break through got quickly replaced by a deeper frown. 

“I don’t think we should.” It brought him physical pain to utter these words to you. 

Now it was your time to frown. “Why is that?” God, you sounded so sad. It killed something inside him knowing he was the one causing you pain. You quickly backed down. “I mean if you don’t feel like it it’s totally fine. We’re almost at your house too. We’ll be there in few minutes.” You laughed awkwardly. 

God he hated this. Since when did things get weird between you? When did things change? Would things get even weirder and would the distance between you two grow as your relationship with your new boyfriend progressed? 

“Wouldn’t your boyfriend mind?” He hated how he couldn’t ask one question without mumbling like a sad little kid. 

Without even saying a word you quickly pulled over and turned on hazard lights. 

“Channie what the actual fuck?” You tried to sound calm but your voice betrayed you. 

“What? What did I do wrong?” This was weird, he was the one (okay unfairly, yes, but) upset with you, how were you the one scolding him? What did he even do? He didn’t remember upsetting you. Did he forget something? Did he do something and then forget? 

“What did you do wrong? Dude what is up with that question?” You sounded so appalled like he asked the most ridiculous question ever. “What boyfriend?” 

“You broke up?” When did you even manage to do that? Weren’t you all lovey-dovey with someone minutes ago? Did you break up with him via text? No, you wouldn’t do that right? Also why would you break up with him? The dude seemed perfect. 

“There was no one to begin with?” You stared him for a second, you seemed unsure of something. “Is this why you were sulky all evening? You think I’m dating someone?” 

Did he misread the whole situation? He didn’t right? He didn’t just make an absolute fool out of himself right? 

God he did. He wanted to dig a hole to crawl into and never get out. He really felt like crying now. 

“I’m not dating anyone.” You sighed out after few seconds of numbing silence. “God Channie what even made you think that?” 

Chan hadn’t even noticed he started fidgeting with his fingers. He only stopped when you placed your hand on top of his, only then he was able to feel the sting or the small self inflicted  wound. 

Chan took a deep breath. Here went nothing. “You had been smiling at your phone and texting a lot too. You’re always busy too. And when you were on your phone you called someone babe. And the man at the bar too!” Really, how could he not think you were dating someone. 

“I’ve been texting my friends that’s all. We’re planning a birthday party and I guess I’ve been running around a lot for it. Now listen carefully before I smack your beautiful idiot head! I call my friend babe, you have seen me do it millions of times, you even joked about how you could get jealous about it!” You quickly ranted to him, elevating Chan’s worries bit by bit, word by word. 

“What about the Guy at the bar?” Chan didn’t back down. He had to know. He had to know the truth. 

“Why does it matter if I have a boyfriend?” You looked at him with determined eyes. 

“What kind of question is that?”  

“The kind I want answer to. What does it change if I have a boyfriend?” 

Chan felt his face get warmer, how was he supposed to answer that question? 

“Come on, you know it changes everything!” No matter how hard he tried to hold it in, the desperation in his voice clearly showed. 

“What Chan? What does it change?” You raised your voice. Why were you prying like that? 

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

“For fuck’s sake how will it not Change everything? How can everything stay the same when I have been in love with since I remember? How can I just watch you go to another man just like this? You’re everything I have ever wanted and loved. You’re my everything! How can you not see that? Every song I have written is about you, every thought I have is about you, my heart simply beats just for you! How will it not change anything? It will kill me to see you with another man. I would do anything in this world for you but not let you go. I could never let you go!” 

God, he said it. He really said it. He finally admitted just what he felt for you. Well yelled would be more accurate word to describe it. But yeah... He finally admitted his feelings. It was like weight got lifted off his chest but as the seconds passed in absolute deafening silence, maybe it was better to keep it in. 

He couldn’t even look you in the eyes. He was such an idiot. He should have kept it to himself. Why didn’t you say anything? Were you that disgusted? Would you stop being friends with him now? Did he just lose you? 

He couldn’t even fully grasp what happened. One second he heard a clink of a seatbelt opening and next second your lips were on him. The lips he had dreamed of tasting for years were now kissing him. Did he just die and wake up in heaven? 

Your lips were soft as silk and so warm and you kissed him so tenderly almost hesitantly. As if a dam broke inside of him, he quickly opened his seatbelt and brought himself closer to you. There was no way he could hold himself back now that he got to know how you taste. Biting down on your lip gently he could feel your lips part. He immediately deepened the kiss. God he loved it, how you tasted, how you clung onto him, how soft and pillowy your lips were. His whole mind was consumed by you, he was overwhelmed in the best way, all he could feel was your lips caressing each other, your warmth surrounding him, your cold fingers that held his face gently, your sweet scent that was making him go numb. God he could feel how he was slowly getting more and more addicted to you. 

When you leaned back for air he couldn’t help but as he tried to chase your lips but you stopped him giggling. God did you have any idea what you did to him? He was at your feet at your mercy, did you even realize that? 

“Since I have to spell everything out for you today you beautiful dummy, I have been in love with you for years! I just didn’t think you felt the same way. Okay, there were times I did, but like you always backed down! And today seeing how sulky you got over me talking with a coworker who was with his boyfriend by the way, I thought that maybe this was the day I could finally get to the truth. Thankfully You return my feelings because if you didn’t I don’t think I would be able to get over you.” Chan physically couldn’t  let you finish talking a he leaned in and captured your lips in another searing kiss. As much he loved your voice and listening to you talk he had just realized that he loved kissing you more. Also to think that you thought that there was a possibility that he didn’t love you... He just had to stop you. 

“Of course I love you. God I adore you! You’re definition of perfection, live representation of love and beauty for me. I don’t think there’s even a universe where I don’t love you!” 

Hearing you giggle made his heart leap in joy. “God you’re such a sap Channie.” Gently bringing him closer to you by his shoulders you gently pecked him. Chan couldn’t help but mirror your grin as he wrapped his arms around you, basking in your presence, enjoying living this moment with you. 

“You’re one to talk.” He couldn’t help but tease back before leaning in to quickly peck your nose which made your smile widen. 

“We’re a perfect match then.” You mused, clearly satisfied. 

“Yeah, we really are.” Chan smiled to himself and hugged you closer feeling finally at peace. Finally feeling whole. 

Reblogs and feedback are gretly appreciated^^

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Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @notastraykid @annie-boleyn

[kesadoll]

♡ CWS MDNI 3.8k ♡ brattyblack!reader, boss!shiu, coworker!toji, oral {f + m}, unprotected, d♡ggy, poor y/n gets manhandled over shiu's desk, it gets NASTY. {petnames: doll, baby, brat, slut. ♡}

♡ sum. you came back from a mission to get sent off on another, but before you went your boss & coworker had something to say about your attitude...

kesa's note just wanted to let it be known I made about 4 other drafts after this one but ended up coming back to this..... but it fed something in me i didn't know was hungry LMAOO i hope u like it :p asks & reblogs always welcome!

you walked down a series of halls, each step you took feeling like it drained what little energy you had left. you were covered in what you could only assume was blood, sweat, and mud.

see, you were…a spy of sorts. you’d go gather intel, beat up, and maybe kill someone if you were tasked to, maybe even just for fun. you were a wildcard and a headache for your poor boss, shiu. 

you walked into his office, plopping yourself on the large couch that sat in the middle of the room and sprawling out. shiu was there, smoking his usual cigarette, shooting a glance at you as he tidied up some papers. “someone needs a shower,” he said, gesturing over to your dirtied clothes and the way your hair curled at your neck from sweat, his baritone like music to your ears. 

you wanted to protest, but you knew better. talking back to shiu usually meant some type of harsh and unreasonable punishment, and you were far too exhausted so you resorted to a grumble. his gaze softened, seeing the exhaustion on your face. he felt guilty for sending you to a job by yourself, but he knew you could do it which is why he sent you anyway. 

shiu took a long drag of his cigarette, smoke billowing from between his lips as he exhaled, “it was that bad?”

you nodded faintly, huffing, “didn’t think it would be soooo much work..” he chuckled at your pouting, finding it amusing. it was rare to see you in such a state, but you were much calmer than you usually were, and it saved shiu the headache. 

he ashed his cigarette over the fancy-looking ashtray on his desk as he spoke, “you’re capable, that’s why i let you take the job. besides..” he paused, blowing a cloud of smoke towards you, “if you couldn’t handle it, you would’ve been dead the minute you walked in there.”

you lifted your head, your usual wide eyes sending metaphorical lasers right through shiu’s head. this was your normal attitude, kinda crazy and a tad ditzy, but you were extremely lethal and beyond just smart. “mmmh!” you  grumbled, resting your head back again, “they almost made me lose a nail!”

shiu let out a sigh, shaking his head slightly at your usual attitude. sometimes, he wondered who's the bigger pain in the ass: you or him. he stubbed out his cigarette on the table, watching as the ashes fall to the floor. he leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, a small smirk on his face, "you know, someday that crazy attitude of yours is gonna be the death of you."

“or you’re gonna be the death of me!” you kicked your legs, practically throwing a fit in your seat. “you’re the one who hired me off the street and sent me off to do your dirty work!” after his laugh filled the room, you went limp, being a total drama queen. “what was the main point of me going there anyway?”

he rolled his eyes at your dramatics, but he couldn’t help the smile on his face as he shook his head. “it’s like you never listen to a thing i tell you. i sent you to get intel on some freeloaders that crossed someone important. they’ve gone off the radar and i’m tired of hearing about it.”

“oh yeah!” you recounted, remembering what you came in here to tell shiu, “apparently the guy you wanted ran off to some island i’ve never heard about before. i wrote it down before i dealt with those mangy-lookin’ henchmen.” you pulled a small piece of paper out the pocket of your shorts. you couldn’t help but stretch momentarily, the exhaustion starting to get to you before you began to walk over to him. 

shiu’s eyes wandered up and down your body, as you sauntered over towards him. you looked like a wreck, but still beautiful nonetheless. 

“goddamn it.” he grumbled, snuffing out his cigarette before grabbing another one. he offered you one, knowing that sometimes after a mission like that you needed it more than he did. “i’ll send someone else to follow up then.”

you couldn’t help but pout, shaking your head at the cigarette as you sat on the desk in front of him. “why can’t i go?!” your voice was almost a whine. 

shiu placed a comforting hand on your knee, its scarred digits giving it a gentle squeeze. despite how annoying you could be, you were cute, which made it worse knowing how you got his attention. “let’s use our critical thinking skills. you think i’m going to let you go to some island by yourself?”

he did have a fair point. he wanted as much information about where he was going to send you and since this was a new area and there were time constraints? going by yourself was absolutely out of the question. though you wanted to go, you loved how shiu protected you always.

“you could come with me! i’ve never gotten to see you in action,” you squeaked in defiance, trying to hide the heat you felt in your cheeks at his touch, “i bet you we both could deal without them no problem!”

shiu chuckled at your determination, his hand moving up your thigh slightly. you acted like a spoiled brat, and he found it endearing especially since he knew it was his fault anyway. he lit his new cigarette and took a long drag, smoke billowing from between his lips as he spoke.

“you know i can’t do that, doll,” his dark eyes bore into yours, the nickname causing you to catch your breaths moving faster, “and what if you get hurt, huh? who’s gonna take care of you then?” 

“mmmnnn….the nice nurses down the hall, they’re really good!” you giggled nervously, taking off your thigh holster so you’d be able to break eye contact with him. it wasn’t very often the two of you got to spend time together like this, but when you did you tried to soak up as much of it as you could before you got too nervous to even be sitting next to him.

 out of the corner of your eye, you noticed he was smirking, his hand moving up your thigh again. despite how much he teased you knowing how you’d melt, he enjoyed the closeness himself and he always tried to let you know, even if it was subtle.

shiu glanced down at the holster you placed on the table, his hand moving to your waist, his thumb rubbing small circles, “i’ll make you a deal. you can go, but he has to go with you.” before you could even process the way his large hand fit perfectly on your hip your eyes shot up at him, almost shouting in protest, but you stopped yourself knowing if you did you wouldn’t be able to go at all.

the “him” in question was fushiguro toji, a coworker of yours you swore was your enemy. the two of you worked together once, and you hoped you never had to again. he was incredibly hot (and the two of you were a breath away from lips touching), yes, but he was an asshole and acted like he hated everything, which wasn’t far from the truth.

a door opened behind you and your eyes narrowed at shiu, realizing he had planned to send you off with toji the whole time. “the two of you will be working together,” shiu said, blowing smoke from his lips again, not at all moving his hand from your hip.

toji grunted, looking back and forth between shiu and the back of your head. “don’t wanna, but i’m here.”

“great, you didn’t have much of a choice anyway.” shiu said, trying to comfort you by squeezing your waist before he stood. toji truly hated working with others, but he had to admit that out of everyone he tolerated working with you the most. you being prettier than a lot of them was only another plus for him. but for you, knowing toji was like shiu’s best friend and right-hand man, it made you sick.

“whatever.” toji spat back, moving over to the couch you once sat on, leaning his cheek on his fist. 

you rolled your eyes, your arms and legs now crossed, “he acts like everything is so miserable all the damn time.” you didn’t bother to hide the annoyance in your voice, wanting toji to know that you were just as miserable as him. 

“yeah, because it is.” he said flatly, but that stupid smile was on his face. “unfortunately, i’ll be just as miserable working with you, you know we don’t have a choice.”

“you’ll both get over it, yeah?” shiu chuckled, the back and forth between the two of you being amusing to him. 

“or not” you huffed, starting to get irritated on top of your being tired.

“she’s so dramatic.” toji hummed against his hand, his eyes trailing up your back.

“fuck you,” you mumbled, making sure either of them couldn’t hear you..or so you thought.

shiu’s eyebrow raised. he looked down at you, an expression on his face you couldn’t quite put a name to. before you could blink, his hands were on either side of you, his brolic frame leaning over you, his muscles begging for release under his dress shirt. 

“repeat that for me.” toji’s voice came from directly behind you, making you flinch at the sound.

now you were in a predicament. you were sandwiched between the two big men, seeing toji’s large hand out of your peripherals. if you responded, you were sure not going to be able to go on the mission you were just begging to go on earlier. even if you wanted to say anything the air between the two men was way too thick with their cologne for you, opting to just shake your head no.

wrong answer

“she was being so good earlier, i don’t know what happened.” shiu took a moment to admire your face, studying your features. he raised a hand to your cheek, knowing how much you loved it when he did so, cupping it while you looked up at him, “you’re always causing me trouble and giving me headaches..i’ll give you another chance to use your words.”

you couldn’t help but lean your head into his hand. you brought your hands up to his forearm, holding his arm there. shiu felt a mixture of affection and amusement knowing you’d already sealed your fate as he rubbed your cheek with the pad of his thumb. 

“the brat is obsessed with you,” toji leaned over you, looking at shiu. from what you could see when you looked up, toji was giving shiu a dangerous smirk, a form of silent communication between the two of them, except shiu wasn’t so quiet.

“y/n, wanna make it up to me?” you nodded eagerly, watching as shiu lit a new cigarette, stepping back to take a seat in his chair, “instead of me punishing you, toji’s going to do it. that’s your punishment.”

you stared blankly for just a moment, not knowing what shiu was talking about until toji’s large hands appeared on your thighs, trailing up your body before stopping at your breasts, and cupping them. “but wh-”

“you talk to him like that, you’re also disrespecting me, you know that doll.” shiu cut off whatever you were about to say, watching as his best friend massaged your tits, adjusting himself in his seat once he saw your legs start to spread on their own, his eyes never leaving them, “he’s just going to teach you to watch your mouth, i’ve let you off the hook too many times cause i like you. ”

you got excited hearing shiu’s words but got sidetracked once you felt toji push your shirt and bra up and over your breasts, the cold air causing you to let out a quiet whimper. “i dunno boss,” he teased, bringing his face down beside yours, “it looks like she’s liking this a little too much, huh?”

he did have a point but why would you ever admit that, “ i-i do- ngh!” your hips bucked at the sudden assault on your nipples, toji’s calloused fingers relentlessly tugging, pinching, and rolling over your nipples. head leaned back and you still tried to deny it, which only led to toji turning you around and laying you on your back.

shiu appeared behind you to make sure that you were watching toji as he pulled off your shorts and panties, his gaze darkening once it landed on your cunt that was already so soaked. he dragged two fingers through your folds and you squeezed your legs together, or tried to, only to be met by a slap to your breast by shiu, afterward him reaching down and holding your legs open and up by your chest. “you’re gonna keep your legs open, understand?”

“y-yes sir,” you mewled. toji was merely playing with your essence, enjoying the way you greedily rocked your hips while you lay in shiu’s arms. something about it did so much to him, and he knew it did just as much, if not more, for you as well.

“she’s so pretty, and her cunt is even prettier.” he purred to himself, but shiu agreed nonetheless, his hands toying with your breasts despite him not supposed to be having contact with you, he couldn’t help himself. he really couldn’t help himself seeing now, watching toji bury his face into your pussy. “tell me how good it tastes.”

“t- oji!” you hiccuped, toji humming against your clit in response. his nose was pushed up against your mound, his tongue lapping at your folds nauseatingly before he sucked them up into his mouth while he shook his head. even his stubble was tickling you in all the right places. your eyes rolled so far back you thought you could smell colors, your hand tangling in his dark hair.

“yeah? watch him eat your fuckin’ pussy, open your eyes.” your eyes came back once you felt a tap on your cheek, looking up to see shiu tilting your head back down at toji who was looking right back at you. you truly were trying your hardest, but the way the man between your legs was groaning against, sucking, and swirling at your already puffy cunt made it extremely hard to breathe, let alone keep your eyes open and focused.

 you caught yourself going cross-eyed, not able to help the drool that fell from your lips, when toji plunged a finger into your hole, mouth still locked onto your clit. the slutty noises that came from him; grunts, slurps, & groans, reveling in the scent and taste of your pussy..he’s fucking nasty. 

just when your lower stomach tightened, shiu said the worst thing he could’ve ever said at that moment, “stop.”

toji didn’t hesitate to release you from his mouth with a pop, giving you kisses up your stomach as to apologize, your whines and babbling pleas making him feel just the slightest bit bad for you.”i’m sorry baby,” he cooed, your hips still grinding up into the air, trying to find some type of friction. “poor thing, you taste so good.”

“if you want to cum, you’ll have to convince me you deserve it, doll.” shiu said sweetly, pushing your beautiful curls out your face and wiping the tears from your cheeks that would’ve been red had it not been for your pretty brown skin. 

“give the brat to me,” toji gave you that sickening smile while shiu picked you up like it was nothing and laid you down on your stomach so now you were facing toji..well the thick bulge that was straining through his sweats. “see what you did?”

toji shamelessly palmed himself through his pants, his head slightly cocked to the side as he watched your face contort once in pleasure once you felt shiu’s middle and index finger rub deep figure 8’s into your clit, toji’s nostrils flaring. “she’s s’fucking hot.” 

“i told you so.” shiu hummed, his other hand giving your ass a tight grip before he brought his hand down on it, the stinging sensation making you whine and clench around nothing. “y/n, pull his pants down.”

you nodded, nibbling in your bottom lip at the thought of where this thing might be going sooner rather than later. you grabbed a hold of toji’s waistband and wasted no time pulling it down. toji’s cock flopped on your face, causing the three of you to smile or laugh, especially with the squeak you made.

“open,” toji pushed your hair from the front of your face, his fingers gently tangling in with your messy curls. his hand stopped at the top of your head, pulling your head towards him once you opened your mouth. 

a gag slipped past your lips and around toji’s cock, his thick and spongey tip catching you off guard once he pushed down. “oh fuck-” a groan resonated from in his chest, his head falling back as he did so. toji began thrusting into your mouth, the motion causing you to push back onto shiu’s fingers which had found their way into your needy cunt.

the room was filled with toji’s grunts and moans, your slew of gags, moans, and cries following his. shiu was taking it allllll in. something about watching your lips stretch around his best friend's cock, the way that your pretty brown eyes watered and rolled back, and the way that your pussy was sucking his fingers in so deep, your sopping wet walls begging him for more..and oh was he going to give it to you.

“fuck this,” shiu muttered through gritted teeth. from what you could hear through your poor, fuzzy ears was shiu scrambling to get his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, not even attempting to pull his pants down. no, that would take entirely too long and he needed to feel you stretched around him and he needed it now. 

“she’s jus’ looks too good, huh?” toji grinned through one of his groans, a breathier one following after your throat tightened because of a moan, your tongue massaging those aching veins of his. shiu brought a hand to the fat of your left hip, keeping you from doing too much squirming while he rubbed the length of his thick cock between your folds, your wetness alone enough to lube him up.

“y/n, play with his balls.” shiu requested of you. you didn’t know why he asked you instead of toji, but the curse that slipped between his lips and the way his body lurched forward, you knew it was to shut him up, a little teasing smile curling up on your lips. 

that smile was quickly wiped off your face by the sudden fullness inside you, your aching walls welcoming shiu with pathetic squelches. toji lets you come up for air, his tip just resting on your puffy bottom lip, his pre and your spit dribbling off it.  “shiuu!~” you looked back to see shiu focused, both of his hands gripping your ass, still slipping his cock inside you, each little bit that went in making your knees wobble beneath you. 

“shhh,” toji massaged the top of your head with the hand he still had in your hair, his other hand turning you to face him. praises erupted from shiu whose hips finally met the fat of your ass. he kept his thrusts slow and shallow, a hand gliding up your back, following that perfect arch you were giving him so soon. 

toji’s dick started twitching at the sight: your ass recoiling every time you and shiu’s skin met, watching how his stomach muscles already started tensing and the ring of your cream starting to form around his base. you looked absolutely fucked out, your tongue lolling out your mouth in search of toji. he looked at you with half-lidded eyes, his grip tightening around your jaw, sliding his length right back into your mouth where it belonged.

at this point, saying you were shaking was an understatement. the way your poor body was being slung back and forth by the two dicks, one of which angled his thrusts so deep you thought he’d punch through your stomach at any moment now, the other so far down your throat your nose smushed up against the bottom of his belly now and then, feeling the way his balls tightened in your hand. if that wasn’t enough, both of them talking to you the way that they were had you teetering over the edge, and you could tell that they were too.

“gonna fill you up so deep with my cum, fuck-” shiu spoke in almost a whisper, “fill you up so fuckin’ deep you’ll give me a baby, yeah? gonna let your boss put a fuckin’ baby in you with your coworker’s dick in your mouth?” that was all you needed to hear before your body tensed up, going cross-eyed as you came around shiu, your pussy clenching down on him, your throat and mouth doing the same on toji while a stream of muffled moans left your lips. 

the two greedy men didn’t let up, if anything they only went harder. feeling you squeeze made shiu’s hips rut into you faster, his own eyes fluttering shut while he practically had you slamming back onto him with his hands.  a series of “oohh fuuuck-”s were flying out of shiu’s lips with each thrust, each one getting longer and needier, his head starting to roll back.

“you better fuckin’ fill her up…fill ‘er little cunt up shiu…do it..” toji grunted in between his own moans which only made shiu plow into you deeper, which in turn had your mouth bouncing on toji’s dick so good he almost fell forward again, his hand moving from your hair to grip onto the desk.  

words could no longer be formed between the both of them, only their moans and the slapping of skin circling through the room. toji finished first, muttering curses and praises all while holding your head still, his ribbons of ooey goodness trickling down your throat in little spurts. shiu wasn’t that far behind him either. he finished with a loud “holy shi-”, his hips stuttering, continuing his thrusts until his stomach trembled, finally pulling out of you along with toji. 

the both of them stood there for a moment, breathless. they admired how beautiful you looked lying on shiu’s desk. still twitching and panting, not able to help the quiet whines that came off you while you calmed down. “s’much for a punishment, you okay doll?” shiu’s voice was gentle, his hand massaging your lower back.

“look at her,” he moved your hair out of your face, revealing a cockdrunk smile and drool still dripping from your chin, “of course she liked it.”

“you little slut.”

orignal works by me ♡ reblogs welcome, do not steal/recreate..

mechanic!nanami next

[cometconmain]

Wired is paid subscription only but I found someone on Reddit who posted the full text for everyone. (Sorry to anyone with screen readers, this is A LOT to type on my phone. I'll come back later to add it in when I have access to my computer.)

Here are some other articles I've found talking about it as well.

https://www.reuters.com/world/us/young-techies-underpin-musks-drive-slash-size-us-government-2025-02-05/

“I’ve been furloughed, I guess?” said one contractor with 15 years of experience for the bureau for humanitarian assistance, where she had helped coordinate urgent responses in Ukraine, Gaza, Somalia and Latin America. “I don’t know what my status is but I don’t think I work here right now.” By Monday, Kliger wrote an email to all staff at 12.42am to tell them not to bother coming into the building that day.

The incident has illustrated how Doge employees with Musk’s backing were able to override USAid leadership and bypass government procedures for accessing restricted areas with classified materials, fueling criticism that his agency is a national security risk.

“Did Secretary Rubio allow this kind of access by Musk’s employees?” asked Kim. “It worries me about USAid but if it’s happening here, I’m guessing it’s probably happening at all these other national security agencies.”

Formally, Rubio has delegated responsibility to Marocco, who has been pressed by congressional staffers to give details of the changes affecting USAid and the $40bn in foreign aid it manages each year. “The question at hand is: who’s in charge of the state department?” Senator Brian Schatz told the Guardian. “So far the answer has been Pete Marocco.”

Doge did not respond to questions about what security clearances, if any, the engineers held. “No classified material was accessed without proper security clearances,” wrote Katie Miller, a Doge spokesperson, on social media. But Scifs are regulated by a strict protocol and it is unclear who could have verified the Doge employees’ credentials and filed the necessary paperwork to allow them to enter.

Inside the building, staffers said that Doge cultivated a culture of fear. “It’s an extreme version of ‘who do you trust, when and how?’” said Kristina Drye, a speechwriter at the agency, who watched dozens of senior colleagues escorted out of the building by security. “It felt like the Soviet stories that one day someone is beside you and the next day they’re not.” People started meeting for coffee blocks away because “they didn’t feel safe in the coffee shops here to even talk about what’s going on”, she added. “I was in the elevator one morning and there was an older lady standing beside me and she had glasses on and I could see tears coming down under her glasses and before she got off her elevator she took her glasses off, wiped her eyes, and walked out,” she said. “Because if they see you crying, they know where you stand.”

(Btw I want to make it very clear I'm reblogging this because it's just their names and I'm not aware of or intending to support any address sharing because that would be doxxing which is unacceptable behaviour, especially when we want to make a world where collecting, sharing and using someone's personal data without their consent at all let alone to harm them is unacceptable behaviour. Their names are apparently easily seen on their own social media profiles as of this date, so it looks like their names are not currently private information. Their families also don't deserve to be harassed or attacked for these peoples' behaviour, so I don't support that either.)

These men just stole the personal information of everyone in America AND control the Treasury. Link to article.

Akash Bobba

Edward Coristine

Luke Farritor

Gautier Cole Killian

Gavin Kliger

Ethan Shaotran

Spread their names!

[jjslvt]

BOSS ── .✦ nsfw, mdni, 18+ .ᐟ.ᐟ

[ actor!jj maybank x fem photographer!reader] 2.7k wc.

(includes v fingering, p in v sex, no anal but being bent over a wooden chair at some point, unprotected sex, rough ish? creampie, back scratching, hair pulling, use of the word “slut” & dirty talk)

notes: THIS IS THE SAME FIC; just the name has been changed to jj maybank because i felt bad using rudy’s name asdfghjkl. listen, i’m from eastern culture. to me, it was a mistake. i wanna respect him y’all plus i was thinking of jj when i wrote it as idk the actor personally. to everyone who reblogged the original, can you pls undo it

(and be safe when having sex btw!)

imagine jj maybank in his mid 20s, who somehow ended up being an actor and you’re his photographer for photoshoots. he had a sponsorship with boss clothing brand and you were immediately asked upon to take the photographs. the only problem was… you could barely fucking focus at times.

there he was in the photo studio, leaning on a wooden chair. dressed in a black wife beater and blue jeans slightly pulled down to show the boss brand underwear. he had his usual silver rings, few silver necklaces on too and a bracelet. he looked like a five course meal but you did your best to keep calm & collected since this was an important shoot.

it didn’t help that jj would be a bit flirty. he’d thrown you glances after you would snap a photo; glances that seemed to be quite teasing, cocky even, like he just knew what this was doing to you — you didn’t know if you wanted to punch him or fuck him. both?

now you two had a friendship outside of work and you did find him highly attractive though you never told him. it wasn’t always this way — you didn’t become his photographer for selfish reasons (you needed money & he loved your work. simple) but over the course of the few years you have been photographing him, you got to know him personally and that friendship easily came.

however lately, you’ve been feeling a lot more than just friendship.

you didn’t know if he already suspected it since he really was giving you some looks and comments over the last few months. even when you first walked in for this shoot, he greeted you with an ‘ah, there’s my pretty photographer, are you doing a photoshoot or am i?’ which was slightly cheeky. you brushed it off as jj being jj but you wondered a bit.

it was time to snap the final photo and what does he do? he lifts up that shirt and your eyes instantly land on that happy trail of his. you gulped, feeling your professionalism want to vanish. you had done a damn good job keeping it together externally, only zoning out maybe twice for a few seconds but you felt your heart rate pump up so much and his gaze was intensely on you. he was watching where your eyes landed and smirked a bit to himself.

your eyes couldn’t help but start roaming up to every place of his exposed upper half, your hands almost trembled holding your camera.

‘why the fuck did he have to be that hot?! SHIT, focus.’

he was totally your type, there was no more denying it.

jj cleared his throat with a slight smug expression like a sexy bastard, “you gonna snap the photo, sweetheart?”

‘he did not just call me…’ you took a sharp inhale, wryly smiling and nodding.

“of course, relax jay.” you couldn’t help but be a tad snarky because internally you were a mess — your mind was all over the place. but he only let out a chuckle at it, finding it amusing.

“ready? pose for me in three, two, one…”

and man, did he give you a damn good pose but you also took that shot well. his fans will be eating these photos up. his lips parted slightly as he gave the camera a sexy gaze while holding his pulled up shirt between his hands, a nipple showing — you could see the some chest hair on him and his biceps, which you wanted to take a bite of, being shown off. you lowered the camera now that it was over and his hands went to his sides, shirt pulled back down. you already missed the exposure of his upper body. you were officially down bad.

‘oh, fuck me.’

“if that’s what you really want… took ya long enough to say it.” he bit his lip slightly, wearing a shit-eating grin and you froze up.

had you just said that out-loud rather than in your head? oh, the panic was real.

your eyes must have widened so much because he laughed and understood.

“yeah, my pretty photographer, you said ‘oh, fuck me’ out-loud…” he was still smug and he walked over to you, meanwhile you could feel your legs shaking a little as he approached and your face going red.

‘he keeps saying MY!’ your brain screamed. but it was just like jj to speak that way.

he stood right in front of you then took the camera, setting it away before returning. tilting his head as he suddenly grabbed your chin — forcing you to look directly at him, nowhere else.

“and did you not hear my reply back?” his tone was so serious, your jaw wanted to drop.

you were lucky, it was just you two in the studio. you let out a heavy breath you didn’t even know you held as the tension was heavy enough to slice through with a knife.

“hey, did you mean it?” he asked, almost with a pleading look in his eyes while he still had a hold of your chin. he softened up, almost like needing reassurance.

you decided to just give in because you were already wet and pulsing for this — and trust, he was aching too. he didn’t seem to mind either so you bit the bullet.

“yes.” you whispered and he let out a pleasant sound of approval.

“finally y/n. fuck, c’mere.” his hand at your chin dropped to grab your side and his other free hand doing the same as he tugged you as close as possible — you leaned towards him, grasping onto that shirt and he crashed his lips against yours in a desperately, searing kiss.

your body shuddered against his as you held onto him, a pleasant noise escaping your mouth fast as you opened it a bit and he took that opportunity to plunge his tongue right in — he groaned at the taste of you as your tongues started wrestling together.

he gripped your waist so tightly and started backing you to the wall, lips never latching off yours. once he had you backed up, he started moving his face down, kissing your jawline then your neck and sucking slowly while murmuring in between, “you don’t know how long i’ve actually wanted this… all i can think about is ruining you.”

you let out gasps and pants at that, your hand going into his messy hair to tug lightly and he responded but biting into your neck eliciting a moan out of you as he started sucking a hickey to your skin.

“seriously y/n… every photoshoot with you has driven me wild. you don’t see how gorgeous you look…” he whispered hoarsely now, still working on your neck but also starting to slowly roll his hips into yours.

“sometimes i wanna be behind the camera, taking photos of you instead…. you’re a fine work of art, y’know?”

“ah, ah…” you whimpered, feeling your underwear get so damp by this point. his words only making you feel more hot & bothered. he’s looking like that and hyping you up right now? what a man.

“jj…” you let out another sweet and sinful whimper, letting your hips buck into his teasing rolls, making him gasp harshly.

“god, my name never sounded better than now. i’ve wanted to ruin you for a while, fuuuuck.”

he got off you but stayed close, taking his rings off & shoving them into his pocket — just as you were about to protest, confused, his one hand quickly slid into your pants and underwear, his middle finger sliding up your slick folds.

he stared at you so hungrily, leaning his forehead onto yours, “you’ve been this drenched for me, babe? holy shit…” he muttered.

his arousal growing tenfolds like yours — you literally felt a huge ache in your pussy, even your heartbeat reaching down there and when he pushed that finger in, you let out wanton moan right in his face.

“ohhhh!” you couldn’t help but rub yourself more into his finger.

“you know what… i’m not that surprised…” he whispered with desire, curling his finger inside you making your legs tremble more. he began his ministrations, quickly adding another finger to which you gladly took. you always imagined those hands doing something to you.

you could barely listen to him but he kept speaking in that delicious voice, “you were eyeing me up like i was a feast today… don’t think i didn’t notice.”

your core was squeezing his digits so hard, tensing already for release. his confidence was just so sexy right now — everything was making you go crazy.

“ah, ah…” you ground into his fingering even more.

“such a pretty thing… i can imagine how many filthy thoughts you’ve had about me now.” he started moving his fingers faster. he also used his thumb to start rubbing your clit.

“don’t worry, i’m filthy too… wanna cum already, sweets? all over my fingers?” he egged you on and you nodded.

“then cum, let me feel it.”

and you definitely reached your release because as he said that, he found the perfect spot to work the circular motions of his fingers. you opened your mouth but he covered it with his lips, swallowing up all the lovely sounds you produced from your first orgasm.

when you finished, he pulled away with pride and took out his hand — licking off his fingers, tasting your cum and you knew, more was coming. hell, you needed more because the sexual energy was still alive & skyrocketing.

“you taste just like how i knew you would, fuckin’ divine… like the forbidden fruit meant to be stolen by me.”

‘when did he get poetic!? what, jesus christ.’

your heart racing from the words and breaths coming rapid from the experience. those perfect hands were coated in your cum and he was tasting it. this felt like a fever dream. your need for this man coming back, increasing heavily.

you just wanted him inside of you already.

“say it, y/n.” he read you like an open book again.

“… i want you to fuck me.”

“there’s my dirty girl.” his smugness seeping back. “and i’ll fuck you. i’ll make sure this perfect photographer knows who she belongs to now.”

─────────────────────

that’s how you ended up, sitting on that wooden chair, straddling his lap with his cock thrusting up into your pussy. your arms around his neck as you held onto him, letting him control it all.

he felt frantic, gripping your waist with those strong hands and bouncing you down onto his thick cock while he would rut upwards sharply making you cry out in pleasure. he needed this so badly.

he took it slow at first but intensely, slamming so well that you saw stars almost then he couldn’t take it after a while. your cunt clenching tightly so he went faster, feeling the veins on his dick protruding and throbbing.

you were also letting him fuck you raw so you can feel every inch of that perfect manhood. your velvet walls feeling like a wet and warm haven to him.

“god, i knew you… hngh, knew you could be a slut for me…” his voice was thick with lust and strained from this pleasant feeling.

“uh, uh… a-ah!” you couldn’t speak coherently as the tip of his dick just kept kissing your womb. he was pulling you down so hard with each thrust upwards.

“letting me fuck you raw… squeezing my cock like a vice,” he panted.

“always the sweet ones… with the innocent looking faces, right baby?” he continued, feeling your hands suddenly touch his back, nails starting to dig into his skin a little.

he let out a rough chuckle, not letting up on his fast pace. “oh, you wanna mark me now? am i talkin’ too much?”

“y-yes…”

“but you love it… can feel that greedy pussy tighten up with every comment i make.”

you let out a croak because he was correct — you had no problem being his slut and letting this beautiful man do whatever the fuck he wanted right now. your body certainly took him in well, stretching for him and with much greed, engulfing him. with your blood rushing through your body feeling ablaze — your face buried into his shoulder, nipping while your nails gently grazed his back. holding back force and he noticed.

“go on, make me your artwork… mark me up, beautiful… haa.” his thrusts upwards punctuated every single word there, commanding you and your nails dug in, scratching him up.

he felt the slight pain mixed with pleasure and let out a guttural groan, “that’s it… show how much you want me too.”

you felt your walls tensing up, your second orgasm approaching and he was right there with you but he pulled out, holding your hips above his dick as you cried out, squirming.

“jj!!” ‘what the fuck?!’

he bit his lip so hard that it went red, struggling himself from that action but moved with swift precision. in no time, he had you bent over that little wooden chair (that magically held you both this whole time without breaking) and buried his cock right back into your pulsating walls. his head thrown back as the sensations were welcomed again.

“NGHH…!” your eyes squeezed shut as he was buried to the hilt again — every line on his cock rubbing against your tight walls.

he grabbed your hair as he started pounding into you fast, making the chair screech and squeak. the sound of his balls hitting your flesh echoed along with the groans and moans.

your head pulled back from his pull as he leaned his body onto your back while fucking you. you two felt the buildup rising again quickly.

his face going to the side of your neck and his tongue licking a part of it before he mumbled with a wrecked voice, “w-where… do you want me to cum?”

you had been so worked up that your lips just let out the true desire, “i-inside… please…”

he let out a low moan, dick pumping faster at the suggestion as he tugged on your hair a bit harder — his body tensing up so much as he was getting a bit sloppy and needy.

“fuck. really are my slut… gonna let me fill this pussy up, huh? even begging, what a lucky man i am… hngh.”

you were shouting out at this point because he was hitting your g-spot with those powerful, chaotic strokes. you completely submitted to him and it made him feel great, knowing someone with some fire as yours finally let every wall down.

“god, yes… i am! please, ah…!! i want i-it.”

that last plea of yours was his final straw as he let go of your hair and collapsed onto you, spilling his cum so deep into you as you also came with him. your walls had fluttered and your eyes rolled back. his dick twitched with every spurt that was painting your insides white. he let out your name in a long, deep groan.

and… well, that chair couldn’t handle it anymore as it finally broke causing you two to crash to the ground but the fall was small and not too bad. making you both somehow laugh deliriously because you two were totally in a massive daze, heads spinning from the sex.

“damn… we just did that, huh?” he roughly spoke, coming off the high and rolling off you — a grin was plastered on his face as sweat was glistening from the studio lights off you both.

“we did… haa…” you were catching your breath, barely able to move.

as he rolled to the side and slowly got up, he reached down to pull you up and keep you steady. your mixed fluids pouring out of you, dribbling down your thighs and he sighed in contentment, licking his lips at the sight. if he wasn’t so spent right now, he’d wanna do it again because that sight was a turn on.

“was that… okay?” he genuinely asked, hoping nothing went too far. “you feelin’ okay baby?”

you smiled, though still a little hazed but the high was calming for you too, “it was more than okay. it felt great… we were both into it.”

he sighed in relief then before he could say something, you made a joke, “though i can’t say the same for that chair… poor thing put up a fight.”

he snorted, pulling you in for a hug; burying his face into your hair as he murmured, “the chair is a fuckin’ legend…” he teased.

“but next time, we can break my bed, mama.”

[ramp-it-up]

Peach VI

Peach V | Peach VII

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. It’s definitely because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. You two FINALLY admit your feelings for one another and seal the deal. But how far are you willing to go for this love?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Artist/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: This is it! I hope the smut is up to par. When I tell you I’ve agonized about this. But thank you to all who were in my inbox and dms giving me encouragement this week. Love you bunches! ❤️

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in Peach V. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, eye fucking, Steve Rogers is an artist, y'all!, sending (almost) nudes, phone sex, possessive Steve, references to shibari, mutual masturbation, pining, references to sex in a car, the "L" word, oral (f recieving), fingering, overstimulation, nipple play, size kink, pleasurable pain with sex, definite breeding kink, raw p in v, Lil bit of Dom Steve if you squint, references to murder. Something big may or may not happen after the last line.

Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-------

Steve Rogers left you in your hotel room, a quivering, emotional, mess.

He’d made you cum, hard, but you felt that he was holding back, that if you’d told him how you felt it would have been so much better.

Or maybe that was all in your mind. Steven Grant Rogers was on your mind a lot since you met him as Grant Stevens in Atlanta.

A lot happened in a short amount of time that caused you to deny your feelings for him. And now you were no longer trying to keep him out. 

He was definitely a distraction, but now you couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer. You just needed to be a woman about it and tell him.

What’s the worst that could happen? You weren’t going to marry the guy, you just want to explore these mutual feelings. It shouldn’t be complicated.

Right?

You still had the rest of the week in New York to stress out about it, so that was a plus. The afternoon was ahead of you and the next day was the Summitt.

After that, you had your one on one with Steve.

Bucky told you about Steve being an artist himself during your meeting with him. So, for your meeting with Steve, you requested that you see some of his artwork, and he agreed.

You were curious to see what he could create, and you were anxious and turned on at the thought of him as a creator.

You were so into Steve Rogers.

And you didn’t know what you were going to do about that.

—--

Steve had to stop himself from going back up to your room three times after he left. He finally exited the hotel and stalked down the street back to the Rebirth building to his car and pulled out his phone, dialing Bucky and pulling out of the garage.

He needed a drive and a little alone time to clear his head and come down from you, but he also needed his friend’s help.

“Wassssaaaap! Did you get the–”

Steve cut Bucky off.

“Remember that shopping trip we took a few weeks ago? For the ring?”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Meet me on 47th street.”

—-

That afternoon, you just kept your distance from Sharon and ignored her, focusing on the task at hand and all business. You didn’t want to waste energy on her.

Your energy was spent on thinking about Steve and wondering if he was thinking of you too. You wanted to text him, but you were chilling. You didn’t want to seem to eager.

You were successful in your self control until 11 pm as you tossed and turned in your hotel king bed. Doubts, but mostly need and desire, coursed through you. 

You were going to find out exactly what Steve was doing right now and who he might be with. You shook your head at how much you cared; it was definitely not something you regularly did. You weren’t used to feening for someone.

You were choosing violence as you posed on the bed in front of the mirror. You sat on the bed, crossed your legs and snapped a picture.

You weren’t naked, but your panties were skin tone and your sleep bra was sheer and you were feeling needy.

Before you thought too hard, you sent it to Steve, then jumped in bed and pulled the covers over your head with that feeling of dread and panic when you don’t know if you’ve done something supremely reckless or not.

—

Steve was ready for the Summit, but he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Sleep was elusive, so he was self medicating, sketching your body from memory of mostly touch.

His phone vibrated and he almost didn’t pick it up, but when he saw your name, his heart sped up.

He clicked through to your message and his heart started hammering in his chest. 

Sorry, wrong thread.

The picture you sent along threatened to give him a heart attack. He zoomed in a couple of times and then read the message again. What the fuck?

——-

In less than a minute your phone was ringing. You picked up immediately.

“Don’t fucking play with me, Peach.”

Steve’s growl got you wet, but you instantly regretted your horny decisions.

“It was a mistake.”

“It absofuckinlutely was. You’re joking about it being the wrong thread, right? That is mine, correct?”

You shivered at his double meaning and at his possessiveness.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers.”

Your voice was needy and that awakened a hunger in Steve. He was beyond frustrated that he wasn’t there to spank your ass raw, but he remained quiet.

You sensed his mood.

“If I were there, I’d make it up to you…”

You were testing the waters, experimenting to see if he would give you what you wanted despite his annoyance.

If he would give you what you needed.

“What would you do?” 

Steve’s baritone was silk in your ear.

“What?” 

You suddenly found that you couldn’t breathe.

“What would you do if you were here?”

“I’d kiss you,” you rushed out in a whisper.

Steve paused, letting your sentence hang in the air.

“And?” 

There was an edge to the question. 

“And… My lips. All over you.” 

Fuck, he was hard. Just a few words in your husky voice, and Steve delirious, imagining his hands in your hair as you kissed him.

“Where?” he asked mercilessly, his voice broken with lust.

“Everywhere…your face, your neck, your nipples, your abs. Your cock.” 

You were definitely not a virgin, but you were blushing through the phone although your hand was rubbing the skin at the edge of your underwear.

“Want you in my throat.” 

Steve had to concentrate to stay hard. 

“Oh? What if I want more than that?” 

“You can have whatever you want...” 

A sense of power flooded Steve’s body, both heady and intoxicating at your admission.

“You should be very careful when you make that offer, Peach,” he said softly. 

“I trust you.” 

Holy fuck. Why did that mean everything to him?  He cleared his throat.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

“Okay.” 

You complied so readily, it made Steve even harder.

Your clit was so hard as you circled it.

“Are you wet, Sweetheart?” 

You moaned and Steve reached into his sweats and curled his fingers around his aching cock.

“My pussy is so messy for you, Mr. Rogers,” you whispered, thrilled and afraid of how much you wanted him. 

Steve rolled his eyes as his cocked jerked for you.

“Such a good little slut.” 

“Fuck…” 

You realized the breath you’d been holding as you listened for his voice.

“Your pussy is so beautiful Peach. And god, you taste so good. Just like a sweet peach.”

Steve knew he had you in the palm of his hand. But fuck, you had him in yours too. 

“But your cunt is so tiny. I’m gonna needs to get you ready for me, Baby.”

“Is it going to hurt me?” you whined. 

Steve was about to explode at your little innocent voice asking the most nasty question.

“Yes, Peach. It is,” he growled as your anticipation reached 100.

Your breath sped up and so did your fingers. Steve grunted, his fist moving faster, thumb swiping the copious dribbles of precum dripping from his slit.

He should have known it was over as soon as he opened your message.

Hot sex was happening.

Electronically.

As the coil in your belly wind tighter, you realized with both joy and dismay that you were addicted.

“Steve, “m so close…” 

“Of course you are.” 

Steve soaked up your cute little sex sounds, thirsty for more. 

“You know what I’m thinking about, Doll?” 

A shaky breath was your only response. Steve continued.

“I think I want to tie you up. Silk ropes all over you, pretty little knots. I’d tie your arms behind your back, so those tits would sit up pretty for me to slap, lick and suck. That ass would be tied up so sweet and open so I could eat it.”

Your eyes rolled at the sensations his words and your fingers were sending to your clit. 

“I’d fuck your throat and cum all over that soft, sweet body. Over and over, while I tease your greedy little cunt. I want to see it drip down your delicious nipples, your belly, your hungry pussy, your pretty face. I need to see all of you covered in my cum. Everywhere, marking you as mine…Mine.” 

You gasped, and then moaned and your entire body tightened up then released.

Your mouth hinged open as you came. 

“Mine,” Steve hissed, tightening the knots around you both and jerking his cock until cum spurted out. He listened to your breathing and knew that you’d just cum as well. 

Suddenly, he missed you.

“You good, Peach?”

You hesitated.You heard the yearning in his voice and you wanted to be in his arms, but you lied to him anyway.

“Yeah.”

Steve smiled at you. He shook his head even though you couldn’t see.

“Sweet dreams. See you tomorrow.”

“Night Steve.”

—---

You needed a distraction.

Steve looked so delicious this morning, sitting on stage and serving art intellectual in a dark turtleneck and brown corduroy suit. A suit that was tailored to the detriment of everyone who looked at him. 

Holy shit.

This man was wearing a corduroy suit and he made it look damn good.  

And he made you feral.

You decided to give your cousin a hard time to prevent yourself from becoming a simp.

“You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

She didn’t look at you as you yanked her chain. She just continued to follow Bucky’s every move and lit up when he glanced her way. She was gone, girl.

You teased her some more until you saw Steve. You sighed and gazed at him, straightening your spine as you remembered how he made you cum twice yesterday. And he’d hardly touched you. 

As if sensing your gaze, Steve’s head turned. Those mesmerizing blue eyes locked with yours, and the rest of the world disappeared in an instant. For a moment, you were frozen. Pinned in your seat by his magnetism.

This feeling was so heady.

When you realized you’d been caught staring Steve down, you tried to change the unspoken subject.

“Bucky is pretty much the man.”

“Fucking-A.” 

Her chuckle was all-knowing. Then she read you.

“Steve is the shit too.”

You couldn’t front anymore.

“He’s amazing. I had no idea about everything that he does. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

She was speechless and so were you. You both continued enjoying the forum when your phone buzzed.

You look beautiful today. You’re my favorite thing to study. Can’t wait for today’s art experience. Meet me at the Laguardia Place entrance immediately after the talk. Sunlight is precious.

You were his favorite thing to study!

You waited on the edge of your seat until the end of the summit. Then you were up and walking out toward the entrance post haste.

The hair on the back of your neck raised when you saw Steve watching you from the door of Rosenthal Pavilion.

His smile when you made eye contact knocked the breath out of your lungs.

In that moment, you realized that you were in love with Steven Grant Rogers. 

Holy hell.

His deep voice greeted you as you arrived.

“I’m anxious to get started.”

Steve searched your face and found a different look from the partially closed off expression you’d showed him since Thanksgiving.

Your face was open and trusting. His heart did a funny thing in his chest. It was almost too good to be true.

Could you love him, too?

He tempered his mood with sensible words, filling the space that he wanted to fill with romantic declarations.

“I’m going to take you to my favorite artistic landmark in the city. I’ve loved it since I was a boy.”

You smiled up at him and took his hand.

“Let’s not waste any more time.”

—--

The driver that was taking you and Steve to your meeting place was the same one who picked you up from the airport. The one that your cousin knew so well. 

You stared at the back of his head and then glanced over at Steve. He raised his eyebrow at you because of the look on your face. You grinned back, then leaned forward to tap the driver on the shoulder.

“So… Nico…” 

Your eyes cut over to Steve with a mischievous look. His heart beat out of his chest at the joy you were serving him along with your chaos. 

“You ever drive my cousin and Bucky around the city?”

Nico stole a look at you and smiled.

“Yes ma’am. All the time.”

“Do they ever do the nasty back here…?”

Nico laughed heartily as Steve shook his head.

“Peach…”

You shushed Steve.

“Hush, I’m trying to get the dirt. Now Nico, tell the truth…”

Steve sat back and listened to your unhinged behavior on the drive over to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. Your spirit and your laugh made him warm inside, despite the cold day.

—-

Nico stopped the car at the Washington Avenue entrance to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Steve got out, shouldered his backpack, and then reached for your gloved hand with his own.

For some reason, you felt like a princess as you stepped on the path. The air was crisp, and there were traces of snow lingering on the ground.

You came out of the car chattering and laughing, making Steve’s heart light.

“I know Nico wouldn’t crack, but I could tell from the way he went red. Those whores….”

“Literal Freaks,” replied Steve. “Bunny is an appropriate nickname for him, because he and your cousin…” 

Steve shook his head and rolled his eyes, although he fantasized about christening the backseat of the Lincoln for you and him.

The wrought-iron gate creaked softly behind you as you entered the Garden, and you looked around in wonder as the gravel path crunched beneath your boots. A magnificent metal and glass structure was in front of you.

“This is the Steinhardt Conservatory. Wait until you see the inside.”

Steve smiled and took your hand as you stepped through the glass doors into sudden warmth shaking your head at him. 

There was a heavy scent of flowers and a haze of the waning rays of sunlight beaming through the glass panels overhead. It gave everything golden highlights, including you and Steve. 

You squeezed his hand as you looked around in awe. 

“Beautiful,” you murmured.

And then you noticed that he was looking at you. 

“Yes…”

You grew warm as you looked into his gorgeous blue eyes.

“It’s like a completely different world in here.”

“It’s our world for the moment. Just you and me.”

He wanted to add the word Forever, but he didn’t. You felt it though.

You started on an indoor path and Steve pointed out the unique flowers and plants in his warm baritone. You were impressed, again, with how much he knew.

Steve Rogers was not a stereotypical mobster. This was a man who followed a path in life that landed him where he didn’t want to be and was trying to make up for it. 

As he spoke, Steve drew you into his enthusiasm, and you found yourself smiling and relaxing, asking questions and marveling at the vast indoor space. 

When you came to a small alcove furnished with a wooden bench and beneath a sprawling magnolia tree, Steve stopped and took his backpack off his shoulder, and then taking off his coat and draping it over the bench as you did the same.

"Please, sit." 

His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the subtle command.

You hesitated. 

"Why?"

"So I can sketch you."

Your stomach did an odd little flip. 

"Here? Now? I wanted to see your sketches, not be your sketches."

You performed on stage in front of hundreds with barely no clothes on and you were so nervous to let Steve Rogers sketch you with winter layers of clothes on. What was wrong with you?

Steve raised his eyebrow and his gaze swept up your body slowly, making you shiver. Clothes couldn’t stop the intimacy of that look.

“Too late for that.”

You raised your eyebrow at him and you felt irrationally happy. Steve had drawn you.

“Do you not trust me?”

You regarded him, guardian your reaction because you didn’t want to seem too eager.

“I do Steve. I trust you.”

It was true.

Steve smiled. 

“Then please, sit down.”

You gave in with a sigh and lowered yourself onto the bench. 

"Fine," you muttered. "But no weird artistic liberties. I better have a nose."

Steve chuckled, flipping open the sketchbook. 

"I make no promises."

You watched as he proceeded to balance the sketchbook against his bended knee. Then he looked at you seriously, holding your gaze for a moment before his attention returned to the page, and his pencil began gliding effortlessly across the paper. 

His thick fingers were surprisingly agile, moving with long, sure strokes. But then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised, with the way his fingers had previously made you feel…

For a few moments, the only sound was the soft scratch of his pencil against paper. 

You attempted to sit still, staring at the plants around you. You also tried to pretend that you weren’t aware of the way he studied you with that relentless focus, switching his gaze between you and the sketchbook.

After a few minutes, Steve made a soft noise, something between a hum and a chuckle.

“What?” you asked, turning your head and narrowing your eyes at him.

“Nothing.” 

He didn’t look up. But he spoke.

“It’s just... you’re trying so hard not to move, but you’re fidgeting anyway.”

You caught the hint of humor in his tone and it made you a little too happy again, so you decided to cause problems. 

"Well, maybe if you didn’t look at me like that.”

"Like what?" 

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, looking up at you quickly, then back down.

You fidgeted again.

"You know…"

Steve chuckled, deep and low and shook his head.

"Oh. Am I ‘sparkling my eyes at you again?’”

You scowled at him and he laughed.

“I'm an artist, Peach. I study form." 

His eyes traced up and down your body, lighting you on fire again.

You clenched your thighs together to fight the flow of arousal threatening your thighs. This was dangerous. Steve was dangerous.

"You're insufferable, Steven."

“Well, can you suffer on a little longer, so I can capture more detail?”

You cocked your head in that adorable way.

“What details do you need?”

“I need…” 

Steve looked at you like he needed all of you. 

And he did. 

“I want to capture the way your nose crinkles when you're annoyed, or how you're gripping the bench like you're about to get up and run.”

You unclenched your hands and sat back.

“You’re making me nervous.”

He tapped his pencil against the sketchbook. Then he looked down again to continue drawing.

"Interesting."

"What is?"

He licked those red lips of his and your eyes tracked the movement.

"The fact that I make you nervous."

The way he was looking at you made butterflies riot in your stomach. That special electricity was buzzing around you both. 

Suddenly, his pencil stopped. Then, without warning, he reached out, brushing his fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face slightly.

You stiffened.

"Hold still," he murmured. 

His thumb ghosted over the curve of your jaw and settled at the edge of your throat.

Your breath hitched.

Steve’s eyes were dark now and his voice was softer when he spoke again, but there was an edge to it now, hinting at something rough beneath the surface.

“You always do this?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“React like this when someone touches you.”

You pursed your lips together and shook your head. 

Just you.

"You’re doing it again," he mused as he stroked the side of your throat with his thumb.

"What, Mr. Rogers?"

You were about to combust. He clenched his jaw and increased the pressure of his fingers on your neck.

"Fighting it."

"I- I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"You do," he intoned, his voice stern.

"Don’t hide from me, Peach." 

Your pulse beat beneath his fingertips.

"You think I don’t notice how you react to me?" 

Steve’s hand grasped your throat, pressing more firmly before he let go.

"Hold. Still," he murmured, those blue, blue eyes stormy.

His fingers tilted your face up with authority now. You froze for a moment as his thumb came up to pull your chin down to open your mouth.

“Breathe.”

He slowly pulled his hand away and you had to stop yourself from chasing his touch. 

Steve clenched his jaw, trying to restrain himself. If he had to guess, you were wet and ready for him to do whatever he wanted to you right now. But he willed himself to be patient. 

He picked up his pencil again, rolling it between his fingers, like nothing had happened. 

"Good girl," he offered to the page as he returned to his sketch.

Steve knew what he was doing. Knew exactly how much he affected you. You waited impatiently, clenching your thighs together desperately as his pencil continued to scratch on the paper. 

"Done," he said, as he lifted the sketchbook toward you.

You gasped as you looked at the page. 

The drawing was stunning. Steve had captured you with uncanny accuracy, from the curve of your parted lips to the shading of the different colors in your eyes. The hollow of your throat seemed to pulse, and you could almost see the indentations of his fingers. 

The portrait was beautiful. And it told you everything you needed to know about how he felt.

“This is… how can I thank you?”

Steve’s heart flipped in his chest as he reached out and grabbed your waist, pulling you toward him on the bench.

"Steve…"

His eyes went to your mouth.

"Say that again," he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Your whole body was burning, but you stayed quiet. You were paralyzed with the possibilities.

"No? Too shy now?"

His voice made you impossibly wet. If you gave in, you were about to get everything you didn’t know that you wanted. And that scared you.

You let out a shaky breath. 

"Steve."

Something flickered behind his eyes. Something hot.

“Have I told you that I love the way you say my name?”

His hand came up again against your side, slowly, more deliberate. His fingers moved over the curve of your side, and slid against your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple.

He continued, tracing over your cleavage and finally landing against your throat again, pressing against your pulse and driving you crazy.

"You're shaking," he murmured, voice low, thick with need.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and gave you a kiss against your throat. And he lingered, lips warm against your skin, before pulling back just enough to smile against your skin.

Your whimper told him so much. 

"You act so tough, but you’re so easy to ruin."

You raised your arms and pulled him close, fingers playing at the nape clutching the hair spilling over his collar.

“You made me this way, Steve. And I don’t want you to stop.”

His now dark blue eyes searched yours as his fingers tightened on your waist. 

“What does that mean, Peach?”

He’d pulled you closer, his eyes on your face as he waited for your answer. The anticipation was so much. He huffed and then dove into the curve of your neck, inhaling and tasting you there, as if he couldn’t help himself. His large hands palmed your breasts, pressing your nipples insistently.

“Oh…my….Steve!”

You squirmed in his grip.

“I asked you a question. Do I need to stop touching you so you can answer?”

“Please, no, Steve. Need you...”

You were the queen of changing the subject.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

His lips were on the curve of your jaw, so close to your lips. You whined. He cocked his eyebrow, the question not so silent.

You huffed, making your decision to go for it as your hands came to the side of his face so that he knew your intentionality. You wanted to look into his eyes when you said it.

“Moment of honesty? I want you Steve. I feel…I want to be yours. Really been yours since you put your hands on me in Atlanta. I can’t categorize or control this feeling. So I’m giving in. Are you ready for the chaos that is me being yours?”

Steve’s eyes lit up and he reached for you, pulling you into his lap as his lips crashed into yours. His hands were everywhere. He tugged you closer as he kissed you and both hands came down to grab your ass and pull you onto his erection. His desire for you was apparent.

When you broke apart, you chased his lips and then kissed him again, greedy.

“I’ve been ready. Been yours for a while, now Peach. Since the day I saw you…”

His voice was gentle and he was looking at you like you were fine porcelain. You felt so safe in his arms. He pulled back to look you in the eye.

“And this feeling? This is exactly how it should feel when it's meant to be.”

He kissed you again and his mouth took possession of yours in a way that was tender, yet full of promise. 

“I gotta let you know that if you’re mine, I’m gonna give you what you need. When you need it. Do you want that? Do you trust me with that?”

This was the important question.

“Yes, please. I want that, Mr. Rogers, sir. And I trust you.” 

"That’s so fucking hot… but I’m trying to behave. Even though I reserved the pavilion just for us, we’re still in a public place,” he murmured. 

His voice was calm, controlled. But those sea blue eyes told a different story.

"You call this behaving?"

You rolled your hips against his cock. Steve kissed you again and let out a sexy chuckle, then stood you both up, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"If I wasn’t," he murmured, "you’d already be begging me for more." 

You linked your arms around his neck and looked up at him as the cutest woman on earth.

“What if I don’t want you to behave? Like you said, you have the pavilion reserved. You can bend me over the bench and fuck me raw. Right here.”

Steve’s pupils took over his eyes and his jaw clenched. Your stomach dropped as he looked as if he was about to do just as you suggested. But he took a deep breath and smiled.

“We’ll explore that kink later. Our first time needs to be in private.”

Steve reached for your coat and helped you with it before putting his own on and gathering his things. He took your hand and led you out and across the grounds. He pointed to a familiar building. 

“Your hotel is right there. Or do you want me to call Nico to take us to my place?”

You looked up at Steve as your breath vaporized in the cold air.

“We need my hotel. I’m ready. Right now.”

—--

You were in your room again, not entirely sure how you arrived, the journey through the park hurried and full of anticipation. You weren’t thinking too hard, you just knew you needed Steve. Immediately.

You were pushing his coat and blazer off his body and feeling his chest. The steady thrum of his pulse tapped a staccato in your palm.

“Your heart's beating so fast,” you whispered. 

“You do that to me, Peach.” 

“Really?” you questioned, suddenly unsure of yourself.

“You have no idea how much power you have, do you?” 

“Me?” you asked in a small voice. 

Steve nodded.

“You drive me crazy. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” 

It was confession time.

“It’s you that has the power, Steve. I can't stop thinking about you. Your voice gets me there.” 

You felt tongue tied as you told him your raw feelings, all the while taking off your and his clothes. 

“Sometimes I — I think I'm going to cum just from hearing you speak. Today, at NYU, I could hardly sit still. You're like a drug, pulling all my attention.” 

Steve’s shirt was off now and you were in your bra; he pulled you near him to get his mouth on you.

“When I'm near you, I'm so hard it aches.”

 “Really?” you whispered. “Are you aching right now?” 

Steve groaned as you pulled back to unzip your skirt and take off your boots. He leaned back against the wall and palmed his crotch over his pants. 

“Like you wouldn't believe.” 

Steve couldn’t believe that he had you here like this, giving yourself to him. He had to tell you the truth.

“Look at me, Peach.”

You looked into his eyes.

“I’m In love with you.”

His rough voice pulled an involuntary sound from you. 

“You're mine, Peach You always have been.

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart thudded against yor ribs.

“Oh god, Steve. I- I love you too.”

Your smile blinded him. If he blinked it was because of that. Not that he was going to cry. 

Not at all. 

He laughed as an expression of joy and then your lips met.

The kiss wasn't soft or sweet. This was feral, sharp, and intense. You moaned into his mouth, sucking his bottom lip into yours as he unhooked your bra.

“I fucking want you,” you whimpered into his mouth. 

Steve smiled against your lips.

“Good, cause I fucking need you, my sweet Peach.”

Steve stood, looming over you, all big and fucking magnificent. The vision of him, all lithe muscles covered in smooth skin, and light feathering of hair making its way down his torso, between the defined planes of his abs and into his waistband, was… Good Lord.

You licked your lips, mouth instantly dry. 

Steve’s mouth hooked up on one side as his fingers worked his belt and fly. His pants fell in a matter of seconds, and there he was, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.

Steve was all thick thighs, and long, powerful legs, his hand slowly stroking himself over the sizable bulge in his underwear. 

You gaped at him. 

Then, he pulled his underwear down, eyes on your face for your reaction. It was classic, your mouth hinged open and your eyes were like saucers. There was no way anyone could be that perfect.

His dick was long and wide, at least eight or nine inches, and curved eloquently (if a dick could do that) against his abs. It was so pretty and your mouth watered for it at the same time your pussy clenched, as you were thinking he was correct. You would struggle to take him.

His smirked deepened as he reached for you and pulled your panties down slowly, his short fingernails scratching your legs and making you shiver.

For a moment he just stared, drinking in the sight of you spread before him

“Fucking sublime,” Steve breathed, the words filled with reverence. 

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby.” 

He leaned over you and set about doing just that, kissing you deep and filthy, tongue diving to claim every inch of your mouth. You cried out, scratching at his broad shoulders as he suckled and nipped, worshiping your breasts until you were mindless with sensation. 

Steve took his time tracing your torso with his lips, teeth and tongue, learning your body and  paying attention to every sigh of pleasure as he climbed down your body.

The press of his mouth to your pussy made your back arch, and a ragged moan escape your mouth. Steve growled into you, the vibrations running through your soaked cunt.

He parted your pussy lips with his thumbs, and dove to lick your clit with the hot velvet of his tongue. 

Slow, thorough licks made you writhe beneath him. 

“That’s it,” he whispered, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Ride my face, Sweetheart. Fuck my mouth ‘til you cum all over it.” 

You arched like a bow as he latched on to your clit and sucked, two thick fingers thrusting deep to stroke along your inner wall. His practiced fingers found your g-spot and massaged it ruthlessly, curling and scissoring until you sobbed his name.

“Love when you call my name, Peach.”

He looked at you like you were something to be worshipped, and then continued what he was doing. When Steve bit down gently on your clit, your orgasm crashed over you in a burst of white light. 

You shuddered through the aftershocks, trembling as Steve lapped at your folds. Each lick sent a jolt of electricity through you, on the edge of too much. 

Rising to his knees, the thick, heavy length of him rose up again, even more swollen and glistening at the tip. 

Steve notched the thick head of his cock at your entrance and his eyes crossed as he slowly sank into your tight, dripping heat. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Inch after thick inch, he claimed you, stretched you, with a delicious push/pull of pleasure/pain. His length was one thing, but his girth was everything.

When he bottomed out, you both groaned at the intensity of the connection. He looked you in your eyes as your hearts pounded in sync, your breaths mingling as you got used to his size.

“I’ve never felt so full, Stevie…”

You quivered in his arms. And he knew that he was utterly possessed by you. It was more than just physical; it was an overwhelming sense of rightness. 

“Perfect,” Steve rasped.

“So fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart. Like you were made for me.”

He dropped his head and trailed open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, pausing to suck hard at your pulse point. 

“Please,” you whimpered, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable. “Move.”

“As you wish.” he whispered, brows knitted together. 

You whimpered and your hands grasped the sheets as he started to move. He bent and sucked your nipple hard, causing a jolt of electricity through your body. Your brain was cloudy and you scratched his back as your eyes shuttered closed.

“Open your eyes, Peach,” Steve ordered darkly. 

As he looked you in your beautiful eyes, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. He started increasing his pace until he was fucking you roughly, pushing your knees to your chest. 

“Yes.. feels so good Steve. Oh my godddddd, fuck me!”

Steve’s eyes roamed your body as he did as you asked. Your beautiful breasts bounced. The bed knocked against the wall and you gasped for breath, your face transfixed on the eye contact between you and Steve.

He was lost, one hand gripped your hair, and the other braced on the headboard. He fucked you hard, grinding against your clit with every stroke. 

You were whimpering, on the verge of screaming as you two made noise up and down the hotel hallway.

He leaned up and grasped your throat, gritting his teeth as he asked a question.

“You want me to cum inside you? You trying to have my baby?”

“Unnnnnnghhhh! Maybe….” 

You opened your eyes and pouted up at him.

“Paint my walls, Steve...”

Steve choked on air as he spurted hot cum into your welcoming pussy, but he pulled out, shooting the last jet of cum on your clit and pussy lips. Then, like a heathen, he bent between your thighs and started licking. 

You sobbed, writhing as he devoured you. 

“Need to eat you more than anything, my sweet, sweet Peach. 

“Steve, Stevie… oh my god!” 

You clutched his hair, tugging sharply. It was too much.

“Oh my God. Please Steveeeee!” 

He raised his head, grinning as you fully collapsed, limp and spent. Your pussy was tender, your face flushed, your eyes gleaming. 

You were beautiful.

You looked at him and shook your head as he took you in his arms. 

“Are you mine?” 

“Yes,” you whimpered out. 

“I would die for you, Y/N L/N,” Steve murmured against your temple, panting. He held you tight, carding his fingers in your hair.

“I promise to keep you safe, and give you everything you need, I promise you that.”

“I believe you, Steve. I trust that.”

—

You and Steve stayed up late, ordered room service and talked about a lot of things, music, your parents, his friendship with Bucky, Nat, and Steve, everything.

You laughed and cried, and then settled back in his arms in the dark to sleep, his hand rubbing your hip as his breathing began to slow.

“Steve, can I ask you a question?”

It had been nagging at you for a while.

His sleepy voice answered you.

“Shoot.”

You chuckled.

“That’s just it. Have you ever… have you ever killed someone?”

Steve stirred, pulling you closer to him and moving his mouth next to your ear.

“Hmmmmm. I’d have to marry you before I answered that question.”

Your heart slammed against your chest and your eyes went wide in the dark.

“What?”

You tried to keep your voice even. You didn’t know what this feeling was that came over you. Steve continued, seemingly calm and not spiraling like you were.

“You can’t be compelled to testify against your spouse. It was a joke, Peach.”

You were silent for a good while.

“Oh.”

Steve stirred, leaning up against his elbow.

“Do you… are you saying that you want to get married?”

Steve thought about the ring that he had at his penthouse.

You laughed.

“Nah… what we looking like just up and getting married like that? We hardly know each other.”

“True. But when you know, you know.”

Steve kissed you and the small amount of logic in your brain was rapidly dissipating.

“Would it make us look crazy…?”

You could sense Steve’s smile in the dark.

“…Or would it be so beautiful?” He replied.

Steve wrapped you up in his arms and settled down again. Your mind spun as his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm and you spoke again. 

He was probably asleep, but you had to get it out.

“If you ask me, I’m ready…”

The light switched on and you were staring into the beautiful blue eyes of Steve Rogers.

——

I’m so anxious about this one! Please let me know how you feel? Reblog, comment, like. TIA!

[korebringerofded]

We Don't Talk About It- Zoro X FReader

Summary- It was easier to be casual, no strings attached with your fellow crewmate, but things get complicated. A/N- In the thralls of depression and managed to write something. No edit. No proofread. Rawdogging life rn. Don't judge me too hard. Warnings- Mentions of sex, fwb, cursing, reader is called 'my girl' by zoro like once, smut at the end, oral (f recieveing), Zoro a has big cock, Zoro almost (but doesn't) kill an npc.

Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated. All requests are open and you can find my entire masterlist here.

You wouldn’t necessarily say that your relationship with Roronora Zoro was complicated, you two agreed rather early on in your arrangement that it would be nothing more than casual sex, a heated passion of tongues and heat, hands desperately tearing clothes from sweaty bodies when the other felt that hot aching hunger that couldn’t go unsatiated.

Nothing more, of course. Just a fun and harmless way to let off steam. What’s the worst thing that could go wrong with fucking your crewmate anyways, right?

Nevermind all the times you would doze off in his arms, the ocean breeze ruffling his fuzzy green hair as you laid on his chest, all while your fingers easily traced along the sprawling scar across his chest. The whole time you lay there, all the famous sword-fighter can do is set your annoyingly cute face to memory.

You both swore it was casual, even when Zoro bought so many useless, pointless things, for the chance he would get to see your smile, hear the very laugh that kept him up at night. The way fiery rage would boil through him anytime he saw anyone flirting with you, touching you.

But of course, it wasn’t anything serious. Just casual, no-strings-attached, sometimes drunken, sex. Neither of you needed any distractions, after all.

Sure, maybe Zoro daydreamed about your taste, maybe he knew each and every place you liked to be touched. And yeah, maybe Zoro spent hours thinking about your lips on his cock, like you were his only relief, like he couldn’t cum without imagining your fucking eyes fluttering up at him,so glossy and wide, because fuck his own hand was incomparable to yours, no matter how many times he fucked his fist, it wasn’t the same as you.

But that was fine, normal even…right?

That’s exactly why you shouldn’t have cared, shouldn’t have felt a single thing as you stood at the edge of a crowded bar, the entire crew drinking and chatting and yet despite yourself, despite all the denial, you were noticeably distracted, eyes glued to the bar.

Zoro had (unsurprisingly) over-indulged, leaning against the bar with hazy and glossy eyes, a lazy grin on his face as a stranger, a young woman almost shamelessly flirted with him, a manicured hand trailing up his arm, probably admiring his toned muscles, the ones you had grown so used to, the ones you found yourself missing more and more.

You two weren’t exclusive, you had both fucked other people before and yet…that didn’t change the pang of jealousy that burned in your chest, spreading up and over your cheeks. You let out an audible sigh, making some vague excuse about needing air before pushing through the crowd and out into the cool, empty streets. You swallowed down the fresh air, letting the crisp breeze blow over you to cool your nerves, the heartache you chose to ignore.

You didn’t even need to look up to know who had followed after you, the familiar scent of sake and salty ocean air filling your senses, as Zoro leaned against the wall next to you. He was quiet for a while, the only sound on the near empty street was the festivities inside the tavern.

The entire time you could feel Zoro’s steely eye locked on you, his brows furrowed just slightly. He didn’t say anything, just occasionally glancing at you. You hated how it made you simmer, how much it affected you, even now. It all made your earlier frustrations bubble up as if they were fresh wounds.

You shot him a look, his tilted head, and slightly pink cheeks only making your anger burn and brew in your chest.

“What?” Your tone was sharper than you intended, making you quickly turn away from his annoying face.

"What’s with the cold shoulder?” Zoro huffed, moving to stand in front of you, a hand against the wall behind you, his hand going to your chin.

He leaned in closer and- you could smell that woman's perfume, lingering on his skin and you scoffed, pulling away from him.

“I’m surprised you remembered I was even here.” You rolled your eyes, hating the jealousy that burned through your chest.

Zoro could just blink at you, eyebrows furrowed as you pulled away from him, his eye scanning over you, the clenched fists, the anger that boiled.

“So…you’re pissed at me or somethin’?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“No.” You said sharply. “So go back to your new little friend.” You turned to walk away from him.

“Tsk.” Zoro let out a breath, a pang of irritation rushing through him. “That’s what has you so upset?” He wanted to laugh, his jaw tight.

You took in a deep breath, trying to keep yourself from saying something you’d regret. Still, you hated this nauseating jealousy that was building within your chest. You tilted your head back to look at him, his expression tight as he stared down at you.

“You were flirting with that fucking cook all night, and I get the third degree for talking to another woman?” Zoro laughed darkly, shaking his head as he got nose-to-nose with you.

“Since when do you care about that?” You huffed, tone coming out sharper than you intended. Sure, maybe you had been talking to Sanji that night but it wasn’t like that, not at all.

“I-.” Zoro took a step forward, his eye softening just slightly as his mouth hung open, so many unspoken words that danced on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill over.

“Of course I care.” Was what he wanted to say, was what every cell and atom in his body screamed at him to say.

The silence was so heavy, and your eyes on him so intensely only made it worse, he just wanted to kiss that damn look off your face and be done with this.

Instead, he tightened his jaw and scoffed, shaking his head in frustration.

“I don’t care. Fuck whoever you want. I will fuck whoever I want.” He snapped, hating the way his ears burned, hating the way the words felt on his tongue even as he walked away.

It was a lie, of course it was a lie.

Almost two weeks of the silent treatment from you was enough to descend the swordsman into shambles, his jaw tight and lone eye twitching. The entire crew could sense it, the tension, divide, the way Zoro watched your each and every move and how you, in turn, ignored all of his advances to bridge the ever growing gap between you two.

Maybe you were pushing this all a little too far, being too hard on the swordsman. You never agreed on anything exclusive, had never wanted it to be exclusive before. No matter how many times you tried to remind yourself of that, it didn’t soften the blow.

That heartache was probably how you ended up here, drinking entirely too much in a crowded bar. Nami sat across from you, equally drunk as you were. Countless glasses sat on the table the two of you leaned against.

You had definitely gotten too drunk, more drunk than you had intended to.Your mind was reeling and cheeks pink as you danced incredibly close with a man whose name you couldn’t even remember. You don’t even remember telling him your own name nor him telling you his. His hand curled around your hip, his warmth seeping into you as his leg pressed between your thighs. It wasn’t the same, of course. And no matter how hard you tried to push it from your mind, he wasn’t who you wanted.

You sighed, shamelessly tilting your head back as you felt this complete stranger push his thigh between your legs, bodies pressed so close your breasts pushed to his hard chest, the skirt of your dress pushing up more and more as his hands wandered over your thighs and hips.

And then all at once- as if an unseeable force just ripped the stranger away, leaving you blinking and gasping as your bleary eyes took in the scene before you.

Zoro stood there, his face twisted in rage as held the man up by the edges of his shirt, his chest rising and falling with barely contained fury. His eyes full of fiery rage, his breath coming out in deep huffs.

“Get the fuck out of here.��� Zoro growled, dropping him and the minute the man's feet touched the ground, he shoved his hand flat against the man's chest, the impact sending a deep crunch echoing through the bar as the man practically flew, colliding with the wall in a sickening crack.

You could just stand there, stupidly drunk, doe-eyed and cheeks so pink it just made Zoro’s head spin more, the beer he had drank that night still simmering in his veins.

“We are leaving. Now.” He said, leaving no room for question as he grabbed your arm and started to pull you after him.

You immediately shoved his hands away, arms crossing over your hips as Zoro slowly turned back to you, the veins in his muscled arms twitching as he got nose-to-nose with him.

“Why did you do that?!” You snapped, shoving at his shoulders, though Zoro could just stare down at you, nostrils flaring.

“Why?” Zoro laughed humorlessly, like ice running down your spine. Zoro inhaled deeply, shaking his head.

Without another word, Zoro had you scooped up and tossed over his shoulder. He didn’t care that everyone in the place had witnessed the scene. He just ignored your curses, ignored the squirms and the way you smacked and hit him you ranted at him. HIs silence only made you more angry as he carried you out of the bar and down the dark street.

“Put me down, you piece of shit!’ You huffed

You hated feeling like this, so vulnerable, so furious, even when you knew you had no right to be.

And eventually he did put you down, waiting until you had stopped cursing and smacking him.

He was gentle as he sat you back down on unsteady heels.You could only glare up at him, cheeks pink from all the drinks you had, definitely too much.

“Do you enjoy fucking with me?” He asked, eye sharp and full of icy rage.

“Excuse m-.” You started, but Zoro moved forward, his hand slamming audibly on the wall behind you, trapping you in with his arms, the muscles twitching and tight.

“You ignore me for days, I go to find you, to try and fix whatever this is.” He waves his hand between the two of you. “And then, I hear from long-nose that you’re going out. I searched every bar in this fucking town and this is what I find.” Zoro growled, his hands trembling.

“Oh, so now you care what I do?” You scoffed, arms crossing over your chest, looking away from his steely gaze.

“Stop with the bullshit.” He snapped, jaw tight. “I’ve been goin’ fucking crazy, I don’t know what you want from me.” His tone was softer now, his eyebrows furrowed. “And seeing you with someone else it-.” Zoro shook his head, rubbing his neck with a sigh. “I almost lost it.”

Almost? You were sure the poor guy had a broken rib-maybe two, if he had even survived that.

“You could’ve killed that guy.” You muttered.

“I should’ve killed him.” Zoro said, a deadly serious look on his face.

There was a silence, a moment of shock between both of you, you were shocked that he had said it, and Zoro couldn’t believe he had been drunk enough to say it. He could just groan, rub his face in irritation before looking back down at your stupidly cute and sweet face.

“I have always cared.” He said suddenly.

“What?” Your voice was meek, eyes and sharp expression softening as you saw the look of desperation, the regret on his face.

“I…didn’t mean to hurt you, to…make you think I don’t care I-.” He stopped, his cheeks burning up and he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I care too fucking much, actually.” He continued.

“But you- you said.” You started, your heart racing at his closeness, at the rawness in his voice.

“I was just being shitty, I…was acting shitty. I was jealous, that’s it.” Zoro mumbled. “Please- I can’t take anymore of this silent treatment bullshit.”

Seeing how much it had affected him, the true regret and emotion on his face made your eyes flutter, cheeks burn up at his uncharacteristically soft words. The ache in your chest now replaced with a fiery thrum that echoed through your entire body.

“You were…jealous? Of Sanji?” You asked, a teasing smile on your face that only made Zoro scowl and pinch your cheek.

“Of course I was, stupid.” He mumbled. “Did you really think I would want anyone as much as I want you?” He asked, his hand brushing over your cheek, he couldn’t help but savor each touch, each glance.

“You want me?” You asked

He let out a dark laugh, letting his head slip to the crook of your neck so he could take in your scent, your warmth, like he was starved and worn.

“Every second of every day.This face, this body. I can’t think straight when it comes to you” He said in a low voice, his hands gripping your hips as if to emphasize his point.

You were both too drunk, too close and…when he looked up at you, neither of you had a shred of hesitation before your lips collided, neither sure who started it. Only that you both stumbled back to the ship. Hushed giggles and stolen kisses exchanged as Zoro clumsily lead you to an empty room. His hands moved quickly, almost desperately, over your flesh, spreading out under your clothes, his fingers trailing down the expanse of your stomach.

“Zo’, slow down. M’not gonna disappear.” You managed out, giggling softly as Zoro grabbed your legs and dragged you forward so he could press soft kisses down your ankle.

“Maybe I don’t wanna take that chance.” Zoro hummed, his steely eye watching each and every reaction, taking in each sound you made like it was a siren's song.

His rough, tanned hands dragged along your thighs, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch before his fingers brushed over the clips of your heels and he quickly, expertly, unfashioned them, letting the clatter to the floor.

“Ever the gentleman.” You teased, pushing up on your elbows as Zoro tugged off his shirt, his muscles tense and eyes hungry as he stared down at you.

“Gotta treat my girl nice, hm?”

Those words made you pause, your heart racing at the way his eyes locked on yours, the almost nervous expression on his face, like he was worried about what you would say, what you would think.

“I just-” He started, eyes flickering over your blushing cheeks, that damn smile.

It kept him up for weeks, that face.

You chewed on your lip, pushing yourself off the bed and standing before him, hands trailing over his scarred chest, tracing along each line, each mark. His scent made you dizzy, seasalt and cedar, sweat. You could almost feel his own heart beating as hard as yours was. You rested your hand there before leaning in and connecting your lips, it wasn't rushed or rough.

Your arms looped around his neck, neck tilted as Zoro slipped his tongue between your glossy lips, the taste of sake still on his breath as he invaded your mouth, his hands coming up to your hips, gripping the ends of your dress and tugging it up and over your head.

He had seen your body countless times, and yet for some reason this time felt so different, like it was the first time either of you allowed yourself to feel anything real from these fleeting moments. LIke Zoro let himself actually want you.

“S’ fuckin beautiful.” Zoro almost groaned, his fingers trailing over your hips, old scars. His mouth practically watering at your soft skin presented just for him. His fingers tugged away at your bra in a swift motion, a low hum at the hardened peaks of your nipples, the way your cheeks flushed.

His eye scanned down your body, his thumb hooking under the thin straps of your panties before he tugged them down, a starved expression on his face as he gently laid you back on the bed, pressing kisses down your ankle, up your thighs before he was settled between them.

“Been thinking about this for weeks.” He muttered, pressing soft kisses to your clit, around it, his tongue dragging slow and agonizing circles around your bundle of nerves. “Need to taste you, feel you cum until your legs fuckin’ shake.” He groaned, voice muffled and his cock pressing painfully against the bed, desperate for any friction as precum soaked his boxers.

He truly acted starved, his hands gripping your thighs tightly so you couldn't pull away or escape his touch, his hungered movements as his tongue pressed past your folds, curling and lapping up all your essence that he could. He shifted again, moving to suck on your puffy clit.

You were a mess, near sobbing as you came, once twice, coming up on a third time as Zoro continued his assault. He had moved so one of his expert fingers curled and twisted in your tight cunt while his tongue swirled over your clit.

“Z-Zo’.” You whined, a pleading desperate tone to your voice as you tugged at his messy green hair. “N-need you inside.” You whined, eyebrows furrowed and face hot with tears.

He smirked, a wolfish grin on his face as he pulled back, his fingers and mouth leaving your sex just long enough so he can tug his boxers away and leaving you feeling empty, the need and want for him growing even hotter in your core.

You couldn’t stop the gasp as you saw his cock, messy curls at the base and pulsing with need. Zoro had always stretched you out in a painfully delicious way, but it always shocked you regardless of that. Tanned skin, pink fat tip that he pressed against your slick folds, letting out a groan as your slick coated him, your warmth pressed against him and making his hands tighten around your hips.

“How bad you want it, hm?” He chuckled darkly, hips pushing forward so his tip pushed past your walls, stretching and aching for more, desperate for all of him.

“D-don’t be mean.” You huffed out, already panting from your previous orgasam’s, head still spinning and your stomach tight with tension.

“C’mon, you’re so soaked for me. Just wanna hear ya’ say it.” He said, continuing his movements, pushing his tip just past your walls before dragging his fat tip along her clit, her folds.

“Z-zoro. Please, I need you. Only you.” Your voice, the sweetness in your tone was enough to make Zoro snap, his hips slamming flush against yours. You scrambled to cover your mouth to quiet the moans and gasps that came tumbling out.

“That’s right, y-you’re mine.” He grunted, hands spreading your legs deliciously so his tip could burry deep into your plush walls that trembled around him, your desire soaking the bed, your thighs. “Only mine.” He groaned, his tense and fat balls slapping against your flesh as he continued pounding into your awaiting cunt which tightened and pulsed.

Zoro was delirious, drunk on the liquor he had drank indeed but more so with this, the teary look in your eyes, the bruising pace he kept, unrelenting and heavy as his desire boiled over, the cord snapping as he felt you tighten again, and he came deep in your cunt, letting his seed fill your womb. He had to mark you, remind himself you were his, only his.

Exhausted, you both collapsed there, sweaty limbs entangled, drunk on each other, on the passion.

And for once, neither of you left or recoiled. Zoro just tugged you into his arms, holding you there until you both drifted off.

Please do not copy, use my work, or put it through AI without my permission or I'll be really sad about it!!

[justanothermemestrider]

40k Nsfw Alphabet - Ferrus Manus x F! Reader

Aaaaaand now, a return to regular programming.

I'm kicking off with a request I've gotten from a few people: the big metal caveman himself Ferrus Manus.

Apologies for spelling and grammar errors, as well as lore inaccuracies. Also I'm taking requests rn, so please let me know in the comments, reblogs, my dms or my asks.

Hope you guys enjoy!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

In my opinion, Ferrus Manus is damned good at aftercare. He's not a master by any means (he's no Vulkan or Sangy lol), but he's got the competency and he's got the desire to make you feel comforted and cared for. That being said, he's still going to go about it like an Iron Hand: mechanically and efficiently.

When the act is complete and you two are lying in bed after, be prepared to be bombarded with questions: how are you feeling? Are you comfortable? Do you need a glass of water? Do you want him to hold you? If the answer to the latter is yes, how do you want to be held? Big spoon? Little spoon? Traditional embrace?

All of these things, Ferrus asks and executes for you with an earnest, almost grim seriousness that you find deeply amusing.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your hands because they are everything his are not: soft, gentle, warm and tender. He loves it when you cradle his cheeks, claw into his chest when you're riding him and cling to his back when he's on top.

Favourite parts of his body are probably his shoulders and chest for the reasons mentioned up above.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ferrus doesn't like making a mess, and his favourite place to finish is deep inside you. But, if you were to ask him to finish somewhere else for your own pleasure or enjoyment, he'd happily oblige.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This man is a bottom. A massive, submissive bottom. On similar vibes to Guilliman and Dorn, Ferrus finds being a strong, immovable rock of a Primarch very exhausting. So, behind closed doors, with the women who loves him most, he likes being able to let that persona go.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Ferrus has no first hand experience, but after getting together with you, he made it his mission to get educated. He didn't want to disappoint you, and he was also (internally) anxious about making a fool of himself.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position where you're on top. As mentioned earlier, this man is a bottom. He was you taking the lead.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Deadly serious. All the time. Every time. The seriousness is cranked up to 120%

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ferrus is the 2nd hairest Primarch after Leman Russ. Not just downstairs, but his chest, back and everywhere else (except his arms, obviously). Unlike Russ, though, Ferrus keeps his hair very well groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It will take a bit of time, but eventually I see Ferrus becoming one of the more emotionally intimate primarchs. In the HH books, his entire arc is his relearning the importance of emotionality, the "strength to be gentle" so to speak. Being in a relationship with you would accelerate that arc, leading to him becoming a surprisingly romantic man. He's still stoic and stern, of course, that's his personality after all. But underneath that is an inherently compassionate heart that, eventually, becomes capable of great and deep love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

The necrodermis covering his hands and arms makes masterbating super uncomfortable for poor Ferrus. If he's got urges, he needs either a toy or you in order to satiate them.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

The aforementioned submissiveness includes a little bit of bondage if Ferrus is feeling particularly stressed out or worn down.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your shared bedroom- it's a matter of efficiency and effectiveness. The bed is the most comfortable for you, everything you both need to pleasure each other is all there, and there's absolutely no chance of you being interrupted or walked in on.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any physical advances or teases on your part has Ferrus feeling hopelessly aroused. An embrace from behind, a hand on his knee that slowly traces up to his inner thigh. Anything like that gets this man flustered and hard almost instantly.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that involves hurting (pretending or otherwise), degrading or overpowering you. Blood, violence and brutality are part of his job, he doesn't want to bring any of that into the bedroom.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He far prefers to give and he's HELLA good at it. He's basically perfected the technique. The reason for this is because he knows he can't use his hands (or at least, he doesn't feel comfortable using them), because the risk of hurting you is way to high.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual. Ferrus doesn't want to hurt you, doesn't want to risk being rough lest he grip you too hard with his metal hands or hurt you with his enormous size and weight. He prefers it when you set the pace; he will only go as fast or as rough as you are.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

While Ferrus prefers taking his time with you, he's not against quickies. And he's damned good at them, too. He is efficient, after all. Efficient and effective. Whether you've got two minutes with him or two hours, Ferrus is making you finish.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Ferrus isn't much of a risk taker. He knows what works for him and what works for you and he doesn't really see the point is changing that. Very much a "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" kinda mindset.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Typical Primarch stamina. All night, all day, as many rounds as you can physically endure.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Ferrus is 100% into the idea of toys, both your use of them and his own. If you ask him, he'll even forge some for you ;)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Ferrus isn't a tease at all. If he wants you, he's gonna tell you explicitly, in the most direct, clunky and verbose way possible.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The first few times you sleep together, Ferrus is pretty modest with his noises; panting and grunting, primarily. But, as he grows more comfortable, he'll get loud. Quite loud.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Part of the reason why, before the Istvaan 3, Ferrus had resolved to find a way to remove the necrodermis from his hands, is because he wants to be able to touch you properly. With his own skin, not alien metal. Good thing he made it back from Istvaan safe and sound and with his head intact, right?

Right?

Guys?

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

E N O R M O U S. Only Primarch whose bigger is Vulkan. Nothing more, your honour.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not that high. His own desire, Ferrus keeps on a fairly short leash. Both because of his personality, but also so he can focus entirely on his missions. However, if you need to be satisfied, he'll drop everything to give you what you need.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ferrus is never asleep before you. Ever. Not until he's absolutely certain you are comfortable, safe and have had all your needs tended to.

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

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty @hatsubara-8chan @nereidof40k @yanagikou @fyxestroll @yurihasurunbara @justfreakynothingelse @mooniequeen

[hotvintagepoll]

Madhubala and Dilip Kumar (Mughal-e-Azam, Tarana, Sangdil, Mahal, Devdas)—Madhubala and Dilip Kumar had an IRL relationship for 8 years. Their irl love and chemistry made them one of the most beloved couples of 1950s cinema. Dilip was ready to marry her during the filming of Dhake ki Malmal in 1956 with the condition that she never saw her father again (he didn't approve of the relationship). She refused and they broke up soon after in 1957. The film Naya Daur starring Dilip Kumar and Vyjayanthimala was originally supposed to have Madhubala in it, her father refused to let her star in it despite her already having the contract, leading to a drawn out court case where Dilip testified against Madhubala. This spelled the end of their relationship and both of them married other people. Madhubala died in 1969 at only 36 years old. Despite their frosty breakup Dilip Kumar visited her one last time at her deathbed. Forever one of the most iconic couples of Indian cinema with a love story that still attracts a lot of speculation and is full of the romance and tragedy their films were known for.

Myrna Loy and William Powell (The Thin Man films)—i know they will have been submitted already but What If They Haven't Been!!!! the screen couple so hot together that people assumed they were married in real life! they match each others snark and dry deliveries SO well, theyre so married i still keep them tucked away in my mind as The Bar of established couples for movies. its also THEIR season rn new years is THE season for the thin man so a vote for loy-powell is a vote for love

This is round 4 of a mini tournament. Each poll lasts for a week. Please reblog with propaganda for your favorite hot couple. To vote in all the polls, click here.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Madhubala and Dilip Kumar:

Loy and Powell:

William Powell and Myrna Loy from The Thin Man series. Glamorous and witty, with the banter of a will they or won't they couple combined with the mischievous affection of the happily married. And they're detectives!

They're ridiculously in love with each other, genuinely enjoy spending time together, respect each other, and just look at them:

He's dapper! She's gorgeous! Asta is adorable! They're simply the best!

Nick & Nora Charles, my pre-Code LOVES. Wikipedia describes them in one line as a couple who enjoy “copious drinking and flirtatious banter,” and they’re right for that.

Myrna Loy and William Powell, their delight in each other on screen makes me deliriously happy every time I watch them. I’ll even watch the later Thin Man movies, even if they aren’t great, just for those two flirting and smirking knowingly at each other. Watching them as Nick and Nora, you just know those characters really enjoy being with each other more than anyone else.

They had sizzling chemistry, and their real life friendship meant that they actually enjoyed being around each other, and it showed on screen.

I know I'm probably not the only one suggesting them, but I HAVE to nominate my favorite on-screen duo: Myrna Loy and William Powell. The chemistry between them has rarely been equaled; they're like the fun, cool couple that's clearly in love without ever being obnoxious about it. I love all of their movies so much, but my favorites are the Thin Man Series, Libeled Lady, Love Crazy, and I Love You Again. Obviously, I'm not alone, seeing as they had 13 movies together. Also, them+Asta? True double income, no kids goals.

(I know other people will be saying this but One Must Be Sure). MYRNA LOY and WILLIAM POWELL. From The Thin Man (1934), After the Thin Man (1936), and all the other Thin Man movies etc. They're just so into each other in such an equitable way, they push each others buttons and tease each other while drinking like fishes and solving mysteries and it's REALLY HOT. They both always had a twinkle in their eyes and adorably wrinkled their noses at each other.

Myrna Loy and William Powell, who are both life goals and wife goals simultaneously. The ultimate gender envy couple.

[softlypaintedseafoam]

your love, like birth and death

synopsis. in which you hope a misguided prince realizes his affection for you is misplaced gratitude for you saving his life. a smitten prince can only propose once more.

pairing. gojou satoru x f!reader

word count. 3.1k | masterlist

content warning. faerie au, seelie prince!gojou, banshee!reader (afab), mentions of pregnancy, descriptions of blood and injuries, mutual pining but gojou's love is heavier, almost kisses

reblogs & interactions appreciated.

another repost of a favorite fic of mine to finally get something on the jjk masterlist i have set up. the title comes from a nizar qabbani poem, one of my favorites. anyone who knows me knows banshees are one of my favorite faeries, so this was a very fun piece for me to write!

This Court is dyed in the colors of Life, you note this particular morning.

Of course, this is something you’ve noted every morning since you’d been brought to this palace nearly a month ago. Yet you aren’t tired of noting it; the Court you have found yourself in is beautiful. From the ledge you lean against, it almost feels like you can see everything in Faerie.

You see the royal gardens, a mass of long grasses and moss dotted by colorful wild blooms. Overgrown and yet each flower seems right where it is supposed to be.

Beyond the walls of the castle, you see stretches and stretches of blue spruces and just beyond that a lake that almost seems purple. If this were a palace in Unseelie territory, you might have thought a kelpie lived in it.

Across the courtyard, souls living and deceased move as if in a dance. The living with their duties for the day, unaware of their ghoulish companions drifting about. Some have the ever permanent dribble of poisoned wines falling from their lips, others’ have blood seeping into their clothes from their torsos and others are missing limbs although they find no difficult in moving.

The sight of death faeries is one that gruesome. A mixture of life and death, the path you folk walk on until you return to nothing.

Neat yet unkempt, wild yet tame, expected yet unexpected ー that is the beauty of Faerie you’ve grown accustomed to in the centuries since your creation.

A beauty you rarely have the opportunity to appreciate when you often find yourself in the realm of humans, heralding death.

You wonder how much time has passed there since you’ve come to the Court of Reckoning. All while the skies have lost the traces of violet, peach and marigold that painted the dawn skies and have begun settling into a lovely shade of pastel blue. 

“I see I’ve finally found you,” when you look over your shoulder, it’s one of the prince’s advisors that greets you. The one with the long raven-black hair and brown eyes that remind you of humus-rich soil. You see the makings of a black tail with a tuft of fur peeking from his cloak and believe him to be some sort of phouka. “I almost thought for a moment our honored guest had disappeared,” his voice is light and airy, but he seems relieved to an extent. “I’m glad my concerns were proven untrue. Satoru would be quite unmanageable if that were the case.”

You shake your head, smiling politely, “I enjoy watching dawn turn into morning.” You look at the large bouquet in the phouka’s hands ー an assortment of lavender roses, baby’s breath and ferns.

“Our prince is too busy to deliver these himself this morning,” Suguru explains once they’ve caught your eye. You make sure to not let your fingers brush against one another when you reach for the blooms carefully. “Love at first sight, purity and fascination it is supposed to symbolize,” the advisor recounts the meaning of each bloom dutifully. He’s exasperated, you can tell. “Do you like them?”

“Yes, they’re quite lovely,” you believe so truly. Everyday since your arrival to the palace, the prince has had bouquet after bouquet gifted to you. Even if he cannot deliver them himself. “As were the rest I’ve received.”

“I’ve never seen Satoru so smitten,” you avoid the phouka’s gaze. “You should have met him when we were younger. He was adamant that he’d never be besotted with anyone lest he become a fool.” There’s a light pause as Suguru recalls the evening Satoru brought you to this palace. You who are cloaked in death and all of her colors. “Look at him now. He’s certainly caused a stir in his insistence you’ll be his queen. He’s a charming fool, though, I am sure.”

You prefer to think of the prince as a ridiculous fool but you cannot deny that he is charming. Dangerously so. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought him to be a gancanagh, a love-talker.

“Please marry me,” came the soft request as sky blue eyes stared into your very being. “And I’ll love you more faithfully than any man, fae or otherwise.”

You try not to remember the way your chest clenched in surprise. How you were so surprised it almost felt like your skin had warmed. It’s best not to focus on that memory at all.

It’s a ridiculous notion, a seelie prince in love with a banshee.

“The prince is simply confusing gratitude with love,” you return Suguru’s gaze with a polite smile. You hope he believes you. “He’ll realize that soon and I will leave this place.” You know that will bring palace staff a great sense of peace. If there is one thing you’ve learned in your long life as a banshee it is that even if the Folk spurn mortals and their blink-of-an-eye lifespans, there are many things faeries and humans have in common.

A fear of death is certainly one of them.

As such, to the vast majority of faeriekind, Death Folk like yourself are not looked upon favorably. Banshee and dullahans alike, you’re more like pests in their eyes. 

You banshee women who scream and keen if death is near. 

The dullahans who hear those screams and arrive when that final hour has approached.

Yes, you know how death fae are viewed. You’ve heard the whispers in the palace, how you are an omen of malevolence to come. That your kind are like roaches. Should one appear, others will soon follow suit.

This is why you’ve come to appreciate this private ledge on the castle walls that receives less foot traffic than the rest. You’d rather the staff of the palace have peace of mind in your absence while you live in the palace even if their prince insists you can venture the halls as much as you’d like.

Once the promised revel he hopes to throw in your honor comes to pass, you know the prince will lose his interest in you. Then you will leave and continue about your existence until you fade into nothing but a vague memory in his subconscious.

That’s what you truly hope when you see the prince in question later on in the day for lunch in the garden.

How his eyes light up and he stands to his feet as Cypress, a lovely pixie tasked with being your attendant, announces your arrival. How he doesn’t even wait for you to reach the table before he comes to meet you. You are unused to being treated like royalty and yet their prince insists that you are. “You won’t believe how the old hags go on and on,” he sighs, remnants of annoyance dancing in his tone but his voice is soft with you. Cypress takes the dismissal in stride. “I couldn’t even come see you for breakfast. Did you like the flowers?”

He wraps your hands in his own large palms, seemingly unaffected by your corpse-cold skin, as he has done every time you’ve met since your arrival. “Yes, they were beautiful,” your smile is small and doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You hope this ridiculous yet charming fool realizes that loving one such as yourself is more trouble than good. That his love truly is just misplaced gratitude. “You really don’t have to send me flowers every morning.”

The prince disregards your words the way water rolls off the back of a duck, “next time I’ll bring you the flowers myself.” He guides you to the table filled to the brim with food you aren’t accustomed to eating. “Will you tell me your favorites finally? I’ve been going out on a limb with my guesses.”

“My tastes in flowers are unique, to say the least,” maybe it’s your nature, but your favorites tend to circle around the prevailing theme of your kind. Lavender to give the dead peace in passing on, calendula for blessing and love. Dandelions in the seed head stage were quite popular with ghost children, still finding them just as amusing as they did when they were alive. “The flowers you send me are more than enough.” The prince pouts but he decides to let you skirt around his request once more. You bring focus back to the spread, “it looks like you’ve demanded everything in the kitchen.”

There are strawberry-and-whipped cream filled pastries, cold cut platters and buttery biscuits to name a few things. The tip of the iceberg of everything on the table.

“I wanted to make sure our bases were covered,” the prince grins, teeth as white as his hair. “I hope you like lavender chamomile, that’s today’s tea. I’ve never had it before.” He drops cube after cube of sugar into his cup, drizzles the contents with honey before finally pouring in a splash of cream.

You take your tea plain and enjoy the gentle fragrance. Lavender buds are just barely visible below the tea’s surface. You close your eyes as the flavor hits your tongue. It tastes as wonderful as it smells. “Yes, this is quite nice. I really like it.”

“Should we have it for tomorrow as well?” He’s too eager to curry your favor.

You open your eyes to dissuade him but your attention is instead drawn to a headless hob nearing your table. You’ve seen this hob before, skirting about the palace bitterly as he carries his head in his hands much like a dullahan. He’s old, even by fae standards, with a long beard. There’s no question as to how the man died, beheading. You hope it was quick.

His beady eyes glare at you with a quiet rage similar to how most fae spirits do. You wonder how long he has been like this, refusing to board the carriage of any dullahan that may come to collect him and bring him to the Otherworld.

You personally believe that faeries leave behind ghosts more than humans do.

It’s why you’ve often seen ghosts from a distance at revels, dancing from dawn til dusk even if they will not be perceived by the living. Even if they can no longer don the fancy dresswear they were able to dress in.

Time and time again, they will do this. Staunchly refusing death even after they’re already in its hold.

“Oh, is there a ghost with us?” The prince notes how your eyes dart between him and the space he perceives as empty. “What’s it saying?”

“Tell this lout that I sooner hope his rule is contemptuous and brings the Court to ruin!” The hob’s head seethes. “That his many days are fraught with danger! Gakuganji is my name and this is the curse I cast upon him!”

Folk can’t lie, but you you prefer not to relay the bitter message. “He hopes your rule is one that is,” you lick your lips and raise your cup to your lips. “Filled with exciting thrills,” not an exact lie. Perhaps to this radical prince, those sorts of threats are exciting. “He says his name is Gakuganji.”

“Exciting thrills, you say?” The prince barks in amusement, shoulders shaking with his laughter. “That doesn’t sound like the traitorous scoundrel I know. You don’t have to lie, he’s probably cursing me and my bloodline for generations to come as we speak.” The hob growls at the lackadaisical nonchalance of the elf. But it seems he has had his fill as he stomps off before he can hear more insult to his person.

“Gakuganji has lost his touch even in death,” the prince’s amused chuckles turn into light sighs “You wouldn’t have liked him very much when he was alive,” you’re sure you can agree with that much of the prince’s words. Gakuganji, as you now know him, has been one of the more unpleasant spirits in the palace. “He was very stuck in his ways. What’s it like, seeing ghosts all the time?”

Normal?

You can’t quite remember what it was like when you were a newly-made banshee and everything was new. Nor can you remember the life you once led as a human. You simply remember your death was a terrible, terrible thing. “It’s as normal to me as it’s normal for you not to see them,” you set your cup down. “If someone asked you what’s it like to see the blue sky everyday, it would be a strange question, correct?”

The prince takes in your words thoughtfully, not slighted in the least. “I guess that’s true,” he nods to himself. “I just wondered if it was something that took some getting used to.” The prince removes his darkened spectacles from the bridge of his nose. “I told you before I have pretty good eyes. I’m able to perceive a lot of things no one else can from mana to the shape of one’s soul. But the spirits of the deceased are exceptions to my eyes, it seems.”

“Your Highness,” you begin.

“Satoru,” the prince corrects you swiftly.

“Your Highness,” you insist. This boundary you won’t cross for yourself. “I’m not sure it’s really wise for you to tell me about your eyes. I’m not a member of this family or your closest allies.”

“But you will be,” he tells you as if he’s simply remarking on how pleasant the weather is. “I will become king of this Court and you’ll be by my side as my queen.” You’re quite sure that if his mother, the High Queen, has anything to say about it, she’d sooner relinquish her throne to a random nixie than allow a banshee to wed her son. “I trust you as much as I trust Suguru or Nanami.”

You wish he wouldn’t.

A Seelie prince and his banshee queen? That sounds like the start to a ballad meant to insult him.

It’s misplaced gratitude, not love. That’s what this prince feels for you. You tell him as such once again as you have everyday since you were brought here. “You’ll realize that soon, maybe even before the revel you plan for me,” you whisper ー no, you pray. “There will be another you yearn for and you’ll realize the difference.”

The prince will fall deeply, truly, unapologetically in love with someone and he’ll discover the truth.

Perhaps it will be a lake maiden of Spring whose dreadlocks drip with water droplets that fall onto dewy cinnamon-brown skin. Who sings of the beautiful red and pink of the roses and of love.

Or maybe it will be a selkie man who doesn’t mind living far from the sea as he’s brought a love as deep as the ocean along with him. Whose coat is donned in scars and scratches from battles past, a reflection of his form as a seal.

Or maybe he can grow enraptured with his phouka advisor whom he trusts more than anyone in this life.

Someone dyed in Life’s colors.

Someone beautiful.

When that time comes, you’ll be happy for him. Maybe then the ache that resonates through your heart and bones will end.

The prince isn’t the only fool here, you admit reluctantly. You’re just as much, if not more so. But this feeling will come to pass, “this is just gratitude. Fascination. Not love.”

“You think I don’t love you?” The prince asks quietly, resting his chin on his palm as he looks at you. He says he has good eyes, he wonder what you look like to him through them. You who once was dyed in Life’s colors but have since become painted over by Death’s brush.

Death folk with death folk.

Life folk with life folk.

“I know you don’t,” he can’t. You can’t allow either of yourselves to do so. “A banshee by your side as queen,” you want it sound ridiculous to both of your ears. “It’s absurd.”

There are no rules that state your union is forbidden, this you know. But the laws of nature are simple. Life and Death co-exist separately, unable to exist without one another. But there has never been a tale where the two joined together as one.

Maybe you’re just too scared to be the first.

“I want the woman that I love by my side as queen,” the prince replies smoothly. “Your species is of little importance to me. All that matters is that my love is returned in full. Please, allow me to be yours,” he reaches for your hand once more, stepping out of his chair in favor of sitting on bended knee. “More than anyone has or ever will, I love you. This is an unwavering truth.”

The blood of the love-talker must run through his veins. Why else do you feel like this? Your desire for this prince will eat away at you until you become undone and return to nothing. “You’re a prince. It’s the duty of the royal family to provide heirs,” even the smallest sprite knows this to be fact. “Are you asking me to stay with you and have them?”

“Please have my children,” azure stares seriously into your pale eyes that were once [color] when you were human.

Your skin feels warm at his unabashed request.

Gojou Satoru has no shame, that you have become sure of in the near month of knowing one another.

He had no shame when he asked you to be his bride when you first met.

There was no shame to be found when he insisted that you stay in the palace as an honored guest he owes his life to.

Nor is there any shame to be found in him now when he cups your cheek in his furnace hot hands to guide your lips down to his, long white lashes fluttering shut.

I shouldn’t, your mind screeches at you. I shouldn’t allow us to get even one millimeter closer. Yet you make no move to do so as your lips are just barely touching whenー

“Your Highness, your mother is requesting you,” Nanami’s mild-mannered drawl saves you at the last minute.

You jerk back into your chair in relief, heart pounding. You aren’t able to make eye contact with anyone, least of all the overworked horned elf-kobold hybrid brought to receive the Gojou heir.

The prince clicks his tongue in annoyance, glaring over his shoulder at the advisor, “she can’t wait? We haven’t even begun eating yet.”

Nanami looks just as annoyed to be there, “the faster you heed her call, the quicker you can go back to fawning after the object of your desires.” He tells his prince. “And the faster I can get back to resting.”

The prince with snow-white hair clicks his tongue once more, but he doesn’t argue against it. He turns to you regretfully, “I’ll have to leave again. Perhaps we’ll have more time together at dinner,” you hope the wait for dinner is longer still. You know the prince hopes the time passes as quickly as he can blink.

Warm lips press against the back of your hand, lingering for five seconds longer than they should.

The bones of your hands ache.

[zealoushound]

Give An Old Country Boy A Chance

Summary: While waiting for his breakfast in the drive-thru line Sy becomes smitten for the stranger in the car behind him. What would happen if he paid for her breakfast, and slipped her his number?

FYI this is the first story/drabble that I’ve posted in like two years so go easy on me lol. If you like it let me know and share. THANK YOU!!

Word Count: 900

Warnings: Fluffier than a cloud under a baby cherub the day before Valentine’s Day. This was dreamt up from waiting in line behind a hot guy at McDonald’s lol.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THE STORY! Do not copy any portion of my material to claim as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own.

~*~

“Alright, I have you for three bacon, sausage and egg wraps and a venti black coffee. Is that all for you today?” The barista questioned politely.

“Yes, I believe so.”

If the person speaking from the screen told Sy his total but he didn’t hear it.

The bright glint of 7 am sunshine reflected off of the black suburban pulling in behind him in his side mirror, pulling his gaze away from the menu board.

Tilting his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, he peered over the top of the frame to see a woman who was casually scrolling her phone. He watched the most beautiful smile he’d seen in a long time spread across her face.

The car at the window departed causing the other vehicles to move to their new places in line.

Taking his spot, two cars down from the window, Sy thought to himself, “now how do I get her to notice me?”

He looked back as she was ordering.

“Good morning, can I take your order?” Hard to miss the crisp, metallic loudness of a drive thru speaker.

“Good morning! Yes I’d like a large iced white chocolate mocha and…” She was chipper. Was she always a morning person? Would be his polar opposite, but he might not mind that. Her voice had a sing songy lilt to it, an upwards spring that could melt any man’s heart.

“I love her.” Sy muttered to himself.

In his distracted trance, he missed the next car leaving and was now only one car away. He knew he had to act fast before it was too late.

Taking out a pen from the breast pocket of his tattered, old flannel shirt, he wrote his number on the back of yesterday’s McDonald’s receipt that he’d mindlessly thrown into the passenger's seat. He scribbled down a note with his name.

The car ahead of him pulled away just as Sy pulled his wallet out of the console. His nerves began to saddle up next to him.

“Good morning! That’ll be $26.19.” The cashier greeted him with a beaming smile.

“Mornin' friend. I was wonderin’, could you do me a favor?” Sy took another look in the side mirror.

“That depends on the favor,” the cashier said playfully, giving Sy a wink.

“Well,” Sy chuckled, “I can’t say I’m not flattered,” he handed the cashier his card and the folded over receipt, “but, I was going to ask if you would put that lovely ladies order on my tab. And would you give her that for me? She’s absolutely breath takin’.”

“Awwww honey, of course I will! Ooh! I love a meet cute!” Running his card for both orders they tucked the note just under the register so it wouldn’t blow away as they handed out Sy’s order. “Now if yall get married, I wanna be invited to the wedding, you hear?”

“You got it, pal!” Sy beamed at the thought of their wedding.

“Honey, with those eyes, and that smile… mm. I will definitely let her know what she would be missing out on!”

Sy laughed and thanked them as he drove up to the stop sign.

He looked back to see her at the window. He saw them talking. Sy watched, holding his breath in anticipation as the cashier handed out the note. The beautiful stranger looked down, reading the note and smiled.

She looked at Sy's truck.

They made eye contact.

Sy nodded a greeting, holding out two fingers in a wave. A charming smile peaked from behind his beard.

She smiled, mouthed out a “thank you… but,” and held up her left hand.

Sy raised his chin in a half nod of acknowledgement. He kept smiling, however. With a bittersweet expression on their face, the cashier's shoulders slumped.

Sy waved a respectful goodbye, then looked to the street ahead.

They handed out her order, joking playfully, albeit still feeling a bit defeated.

“No offense to your hubby, but that was not how this romance was supposed to play out.” The woman couldn’t help but laugh. “This was supposed to be like a Hallmark movie.”

Sy’s old truck rumbled away from the stop sign.

“Well, you know some love stories have a big plot twist,” the woman questioned.

“Yeah?” The cashier seemed puzzled as she reached for her phone.

She unlocked her phone, swiped off TikTok and went to her photos.

“This is from yesterday, at my best friend's birthday party.” Showing the barista a picture of herself, a woman holding a little boy probably about three years old, and two other men in front of a table of presents. One of the men looked especially familiar.

“His name is Sy. We met 8 years ago today in line at a drive-thru back in my hometown. He had paid for my lunch and left his number on the receipt. We’ve been married for five years now.”

She smiled the whole time she told the story, rubbing the paper in her hand with her thumb fondly. The cashier was almost in tears, clutching their apron to their chest.

“Awwwww! That is so sweet! May I ask, what did his note say?”

“The same thing it said 8 years ago,” she smiled. “The same thing it says everytime I’m fortunate enough to be able to get in line behind him.”

‘Give an old country boy a chance? Sy 327-4412’

[skzdust]

I Want You To Want For Me

SMUT. MINORS DNI.

To the person who inspired this: basically it wasn't even my decision to write this, since you brought it up in the first place. <3

Had a ton of fun writing this one though, hope you all enjoy!

Title from "PUPPET" by Tyler, The Creator.

Summary: You and Minho have been waiting for a day you can be his all day, and it's finally here.

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Includes: free use, oral sex m receiving, face fucking, fingering, light somno, praise, degradation, scratching/marks

Word count: 1.7k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst, @atzlordz,

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

You woke up to a hand between your thighs.

You moaned softly, arching back into your boyfriend and resting your head on his shoulder. “Morning, Minho.”

“Good morning, beautiful.” He murmured, and you took a breath as he focused his attentions on your clit. “You remember what today is?”

“Yeah.” You sighed happily. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”

“Good girl.” His finger moved faster. “Want you to come for the first time today like this.”

“That’s not going to take long.” You were still half-asleep, but Minho felt so good, and as his other hand moved down to circle your entrance, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release.

“Minho, Minho, Min—oh!” You came, shuddering through your orgasm. Minho let up once your legs started twitching.

“Okay, I’ll let you get ready for the day.” He placed a kiss to your temple, and you could feel the smile on his lips. “Wear something cute for me.”

“Yeah, I will.” You got out of bed, grateful your legs weren’t shaking just yet.

You went through the steps of your morning routine and chose an outfit you knew Minho would like, with a low-cut top and a short skirt. You stepped out of the bathroom, and Minho hummed appreciatively from where he still lay in bed. “You look amazing, baby.”

You did a little twirl for him, your skirt floating up to reveal just a tease of the lace underneath. “Thank you. Thought you might like it.”

“I do.”

“So, what did you want to do today?”

“Oh, just relax. Didn’t have anything in mind.”

“Mhm.” You nodded. “Nothing in mind, huh?”

“Nothing in particular.” Minho’s grin was sly. “What do you want to do today?”

“I was thinking playing some video games would be nice, and I want to order food, not feeling like cooking, but that’s about it.” You shrugged.

You could practically see the cogs turning in his head. “I can work with that.”

You laughed, walking out of the room. “I’m going to have some cereal, and then I’ll probably boot up the PC.”

—

You’d been sitting at your computer for a while now. You noticed when Minho walked in, but you just hummed in his direction, too absorbed in your game to acknowledge him beyond that. At least, until he leaned over your keyboard and pressed the escape key.

“Minho!” You protested, looking at him. “I was—”

“You were what?” Minho smiled innocently, his eyes wide. “As I understand it, you’re mine for today, which means I call the shots, got it? And I want you to suck me off.”

“Can I at least finish—”

“Are you going to listen, or am I gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you?” Minho’s expression shifted.

A wave of heat ran through you. “No, I can listen.”

“Good. Stand up.”

You got up, and he took your place in your chair. You knew what was expected of you at this point as you fell to your knees in front of him.

“Yeah, that’s a good girl.” He mumbled, pushing his sweatpants down.

You were on him before he had to tell you anything, wrapping your mouth around the tip and pushing yourself down onto him.

“Fuck.” He moaned, putting a hand on the back of your head to steady himself. “Fuck, babe, you feel so fucking good. Keep going.”

You kept going, pulling back occasionally to press kisses and lick along his length. “Tastes so good, sir.”

“You like my cock that much, prove it.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Prove it? Am I not doing that enough right now?”

“I want you to choke on it, I want you to gag. Get all of me in your mouth, can you do that?”

“Yes.” You took a deep breath, then you began to take him into your mouth, gagging a bit when he hit the back of your throat. You steeled yourself to get the final bit of Minho’s cock into your mouth, and you knew from his deep, loud groan that you’d succeeded.

“Fuck. You feel so fucking good.” He said, shallowly beginning to thrust in and out. You coughed around him, feeling so full but not full enough, not where you needed it. You were so aroused, you could feel yourself growing wet. You knew Minho probably wouldn’t pay any more attention to your pleasure until he came, not because he didn’t care, but because he wanted to teach you a lesson.

You tried your best to keep yourself steady, pulling back to gasp in a breath every so often before going right back to his cock.

“Good.” He all but growled. “Good sluts know to just shut up and take it.”

You moaned loudly at that. You liked being Minho’s good slut, you wanted nothing more.

You closed your eyes as he began to use you in earnest, fucking your face at a shameless pace. You choked around him, doing your best to keep your bearings in the dizziness the whole thing was bringing upon you.

Eventually, though, his hand tightened in your hair, and he let out a long moan as he came in your mouth. “Don’t— don’t swallow.” He panted.

You didn’t, sitting there with his cum on your tongue, looking up at him patiently.

“Such a good girl.” He let go of your head. “You can swallow now.”

You swallowed, taking a deep breath once you could open your mouth again. “Jesus, Minho, that was… that was good.”

He laughed. “Good, I’m glad you had fun. You can get back to your game now.”

“But—”

“You should get back to your game.” He said firmly, getting his pants zipped and standing.

“Yes, sir.” You sighed.

“Don’t worry, you know I’m not done with you for today.”

You smiled as you got back in your chair.

—

“You want to get food?” Minho walked into the room, holding his phone. “I was thinking that one Chinese place you like.”

You looked up. “That sounds great!”

He sat down beside you. He kept the delivery app up in one hand, but the other came to rest on your thigh. You smiled at it, and then smiled wider as it began to make its way further and further up.

He selected a few things and handed you the phone. “Here, pick whatever you want.”

You scrolled through the menu, and hissed in a breath when he began to rub two fingers right where your thigh met your torso. Your eyes almost fluttered at the sensation. “Minho…”

“What?” He said innocently. “Finish your order.”

You selected a couple dishes and submitted the order. Minho had started to creep closer and closer to your entrance, and it was as you were handing his phone back to him that he pushed one fingertip inside. You squeaked, nearly dropping it.

“Careful, babe.” He laughed softly, taking it and setting it to the side. “We’re going to see how many times you can come before the food gets here.”

You whined. “Yes, Minho.”

He pushed two fingers inside you, and your head dropped back with a loud moan.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty.” He whispered. “How do I get you to make that sound again… I mean, I have some ideas. Wanna test them?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, your head still leaning back on the couch cushions.

He curled his fingers up, and you whimpered.

“Close, but not quite.” Minho murmured. “We should keep going.” He pulled his fingers all the way out, and then pushed them back in, three this time. He began fucking you, setting a punishing pace that had you clenching down around his fingers.

“Minho…”

“That feel good?” He said. “Doesn’t it feel nice to be so full?”

You nodded, humming your agreement, although it came out much closer to a whimper than a hum.

“That’s a good little slut.”

You whined. It was always hot when Minho got sick of the praise and decided to start being mean.

“You like that?”

“Be meaner to me, please.”

He snickered. “I can do that. You’re so desperate, aren’t you? Needy little thing. You just want to come, isn’t that right?”

You nodded quickly. “Yes, wanna come.”

“Luckily for you, I’d like to see that.” His voice was like a fine whiskey, smooth, but made you burn to the very core. “You’re just a toy, just for me, so you’re going to do exactly what I want, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” You shifted as he found a new angle, pushing even deeper inside of you. “Yes, God, Minho, harder.”

“Such a whore.” He pulled his fingers out so he could drag you down on the couch, prompting a whine from you as his fingers coated with your own wetness met your thigh. He started fucking you again with them, the new angle allowing him a ferocity that had been contained before. Strands of his hair fell down around his face as he fucked you, his eyes raking up and down your body. Their weight made it feel like there were almost scratch marks in their wake, and you wished he’d do that to you next: scrape and mark up your body until every inch of you belonged to him.

“There something you want?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Just was thinking it’d be nice to have some marks.”

“Oh, is this not enough for you?” He punctuated with a particularly hard thrust that had you seeing stars. “You want me to mark you up, too?”

“Mhm.” You nodded.

“Greedy slut.” He sighed. “You always want more, don’t you?” With the hand not currently wrecking your hole, he scraped lightly down your side.

“Harder, please?”

“Jesus.” You could hear the eye roll, but he obliged, digging scratches into you.

Your mouth fell open from the sensations. “Fuck, Minho!”

“Too hard?” He smirked.

“No, it was just— God, I’m going to come.”

“Tell me when you’re close.”

“I’m close, don’t stop, Minho, please don’t— fuck!”

Minho’s nails dug into your side as you came, the pain making it even more delicious as you lost yourself in the pleasure.

You opened your eyes, and Minho was smiling at you. “Good?”

“Yeah, fuck, that was so good.” You threw an arm over your eyes. “Fuck.”

“Well, our food isn’t here yet, so we’re just going to have to keep going, aren’t we?” Minho’s eyes were big with false sympathy.

“Oh, no, I think we are.” You nodded. “How horrible.”

“Horrible indeed.” He agreed before starting to moving his fingers again.