#So like one hall smelled god awful

[paranormal87creatur]

y'know what, screw it, I'm posting this now

This scene was honestly so cool

[chaos-coming]

I fucking hate the smell of frying bacon.

My roommate came in the kitchen and started frying bacon while i was cooking and now my clothes and hair smell like fucking bacon i am Not Happy

[httpsvgin]

ᯓ “SAID YOU’RE A WILD

MUSTANG.” ۶ৎ

“everybody said you’re a killer, but i couldnt stop the way i was feeling the day your record dropped.” (LANA DEL REY.)

BY @MZLLSIT!!! ᥫ᭡

ᯓ PAIRING. hwang in-ho & fem!reader

FANDOM. squid game (seasontwo) ꪆৎ

T!W. shameless smut. porn with plot. bathroom sex. slight angst? dom! in ho. oral sex (f!receiving.) praise kink. slight age difference. blood. violence.

GENRE. smut, fluff? (kinda), angst (kinda?.)

SUMMARY. ᝰ.ᐟ chaos erupted after the tight vote between x & o’s, resulting in a bloodbath within mens bathrooms which left five people dead and fondly, you couldnt handle the way the deaths of innocent people racked up just so willingly, leaving you in a helpless and terrified state as the night began to fall. until in-ho spotted by your side in the hell that broke out between the two sides, calmed your panic and took you to safety… a lustful safety.

(THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING THIS KINDA SHIT SO IF ITS AWFUL IM SO SORRY CHAT.. ALSO IGNORE ANY GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES!!!! other than that, enjoy.)

────────────

hell. thats what siting in that room felt like for you, mentally praying for the gods above to come and swoop you of your feet and into warmth. and yet no matter how hard you could’ve prayed in that moment, nothing could cure the way your stomach churned and twisted in a million directions all at once as your eyes pinned to the left side of the room where the o’s glared right in your direction, if looks could kill, you would have died the second the boys left the restroom a few minutes ago. some of them covered in blood, eyes dead and predator like while the rest had the look of a frightened child, lost and alone.

everybody knew what was going to happen the second those lights switched off. death lingered and suffocated the air you breathed in, yet far worse was to come, like a storm waiting to crush upon a village.

your back rested upon the wall, watching from afar as your nails dug into the skin of your arms you clutched so tightly to your chest that your knuckles turned white. your mind raced, heart rattling against your chest and sweat began to bead at your forehead as you tried to swallow the dry lump that never seemed to leave your throat. you were going to die in this shit hole, and there was no gods above that could stop that from happening.

the lights flickered off, leaving only the red and blue lights to illuminate the hall of bunkbeds which some still chose to lay in even despite knowing what rampage was bound to happen in just a few seconds. in the darkness of the room you still spotted the sight of in-ho, who’s dark eyes met and softened at yours almost immediately and you refused to look away. he could practically smell the fear radiating of your body from across the small area your group had chosen to stay within, gi-hun sat at his side tightly along with the rest of the group who you found to be the only source of comfort in this hell.

and yet despite the comfort they provided you still sat isolated in the corner at the brink of a panic attack. breathing felt like diffusing a bomb, one hand clutched your chest, trying to relax yourself as your other rubbed your own leg comfortingly. knowing your death was a blink away sent you into a psychotic spiral at the thought that your last breath would be in this room. in this place. in this very moment.

a blood curdling scream erupted around the room, snapping your head up to see the group of o’s charging right into your boundary, screaming and yelling as they pounced onto anyone they could get their hands on.

the lights flickered as the room flipped into a war in the space of a few seconds, sounds of yelling and harsh slashing echoed around. clutching your ears, you rocked back and forward as a loud sob broke up through your throat. “fuck!” you cried into the thick material of your tracksuit, arms covering your head in attempt to blur out the haunting screams that seemed never ending.

“found you, mother fucker!” a voice bellowed toward you, lifting up your glossy ears to stare at player 124 charge at you, face bloodied and covered in a psychopathic grin while in his left palm clutched a shard of glass that dripped crimson blood from the tip. it was no surprise you’d be his circled on his target list due to the fact during the last game, mingle, you shoved his sorry ass out of the room him and his purple headed friend fought so hardly for, which almost costed their lives. now here he is, about to take yours with the same intent you had in that one second during the game.

“i swear im going to fucking slit you in half, bitch.” his words slurred as you stumbled to your feet, not daring to break eye contact while you bit down on your bottom lip that trembled violently.

“fuck you.” you spat, yet your words wobbled along with your legs despite how hard you tried to look ‘tough,’ your eyes still glistened under the flickering lights with tears. nam-gyu howled in laughter, twisting the sharp end of the glass in his hand before his face turned straight in a second. the two seconds he stared felt like an eternity before he charged at you.

yelling, you caught his arm that held the blade pointed at your heart and using your knee you jerked it up to hit in between his legs which forced him to fold over just in time for you to kick him over onto his back. the shard of glass rolled over to the side of his head and in and instant you charged to grab it with shaky legs, only for him to be quicker and yanked at your ankle, shoving you down to the floor.

a slight whimper left your lips tasting the irony taste along your gums due to the impact of you hitting the ground chin first, and before you knew it, nam-gyu had wrestled his way on top of you, using one hand to pin your wrist above your head while the other snatched the shard inches away from your finger tips.

“mm, you’re a good little fighter, huh?” his lips lingered close to your ear while he trailed the sharp end over your face, only grazing your skin slightly. you flinched against his touch, kicking your legs frantically and screaming for help, feeling the tears burn at your eyes. you were fucked, and there was no doubt about it.

feeling your heart thump against your tightened chest, your mind clouded with defeat and you became limp underneath his strength, tossing your head to the side to glance over at the chaos that spread and diseased everyone around you, blood splattered on nearly every wall you looked at while several bodies laid limp , choking on their own blood.

“fucking die, you bitch!” the dark haired man yelled, raising the shard of glass in the air with a smile that sent painful shivers down your spine. and just as you wrenched your eyes shut, the impact of the blade never came. instead, you felt something wet drip down onto your face, pulling one eye open to see a metal poll struck through nam-gyus’s heart before he fell limp ontop of you, his blood seeping and staining your shirt.

opening your mouth to scream, a hand came over to stop any noise from coming out while another shoved the lifeless body of your chest. in-ho stared down at you, blood splattered along his face while his eyes softened at the scene of your shaken face.

“ive got you, ive got you come on.” despite the desperation in his voice his words were none the less slightly comforting despite the chaos around you as he pulled you up from your back where his hand tightening on your wrist and yanked you forward without another word.

you had no time to comprehend what even just happened in that short space of time but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered drastically at the way his fingers interlinked within yours as he charged around the bloodbath. his only priority in this devastating scene was to protect you. only you. he couldn’t give less of a shit about the stack of bodies that were growing at his hands as they ran but instead he looked back every second to see if you where still chasing behind.

his warm hand came onto your lower back and pulled you forward through the door that was questionably opened immediately the second the square masked guard caught a glance of in-ho and it made your stomach sink in confusion at how willingly they were to let him through with just a glance. yet your curiosity was died down as in-ho shoved the bathroom door open with his elbow while his other kept firmly on your waist.

your eyes hurt from the bright light on the bathroom, baby pink walls almost blinding you as you adjusted to the sudden change in atmosphere. quiet. silence. and still your heart never slowed down for a second.

“are you hurt? did that bastard hit you?” in-ho cupped either side of your head in his head, tilting your chin from side to side as his eyes glistened with a hint of panic. taking in the scene, you noticed the way his hair was messed up compared to his usual style, his eyebrows knotted into a frown while he examined the features along your face. softly, his finger lingered over a small cut under your eye from where nam-gyu nipped at your skin and you took in the way his jaw clenched just at the sight of blood from your pretty face.

a groan rumbled in his throat, yet he quickly swallowed down his anger to return his soft eyed gaze back onto you. for a split second his eyes glanced down at your lips before returning back to your face. “poor girl.” he coed, it was like his tone was glazed with honey, sweet and sickening as his hand rubbed against your hair.

you can’t deny the warmth that grew in your lower abandonment, and hell did it twist with guilt at the same time knowing lives were being took the very same second your here in the arms of the man who had caught your wondering eyes the second you saw him. still, it felt fucking euphoric to be beneath his finger tips.

perhaps he read your mind because instead of taking his hand away it came to the back of your neck and yanked you against his lips which you were caught staring at the whole time apparently and you tasted the desperation along his soft lips.

his mouth moved harshly against yours, his tongue arching his way into your mouth and finding the warmth of yours while his other hand came to squeeze at bare skin of your waist which made your heart flutter at feeling his cold fingers against the softness of your skin. the world felt like it was spinning beneath your feet, yanking at his dark hair while your tongues battled for dominance.

“you have no idea how badly ive wanted this.” he whispered against your lips and it sent shivers to the bottom of your spine along side the way slick began to form between your legs as he backed you up against the wall.

tilting your head back you let him gain access to your neck and he wasted no time to sink his teeth into the plush feeling of your skin, tasting and licking along the pulse point on your throat which quickened at the warmth of his tongue exploring you. leaving bruises, in-ho stepped back for a moment to admire his claiming all over your skin while you stood breathless under his predatory eyes.

“take off your clothes.” he growled, returning back to the warmth of your neck before you could even respond to which he squeezed the skin of your waist. “don’t make me ask again.”

gulping, you nodded almost a little to quickly and you stumbled to pull down and kick off the material of your trousers that bunched at your ankles to where in-ho’s fingers pressed to your clothed cunt almost immediately.

“all this for me?” he chuckled against your skin, running a long digit along the wet patch on your panties. “fuck, you’re so good for me..” his voice made you clench your thighs around his hand to where he tugged at the thin cloth and ripping it off your body.

gasping, you slump against the wall he backed you up against, making you shiver at the cold material against your bare thighs and ass. “m-maybe we should do this-“ you began to mumble against his grip yet a sharp moan left your lips when a cold finger came to rub against your aching clit.

slowly, the man sunk to his knees in front of you, not once breaking eye contact as he lowered down your body, leaving a trail of kisses behind. taking your hand into his hair, your chest heaved with anticipation while his dark eyes took in the way your mouth draped open at his slow kisses, tossing your head back against the cold tiles as he gently nipped at the silk skin of your upper thighs.

“please in-ho..” you whispered just loud enough for him to hear, your voice croaking with desperation to feel his mouth against you dripping cunt.

“what do you want me to do, baby? use your words for me.” he kept one hand on your hip, using his other to run along the wet slither of your clit that burned for his tongue.

“fuck me!” you cried out, pulling at his dark locks. “fuck me with your tongue!”

“yes ma’am.” you felt him smile against your cunt before he licked a long strip of your wetness from its surface, tasting the sweetness of your slick against his tongue. your body felt like it was on fire with the way his mouth worked its magic on your pussy.

feeling him hum in satisfaction against your cunt sent thousands off sparks up into the pit of your stomach while you moaned out, gripping onto his hair while still pushing his head down further into your pussy while your orgasm began bloom. for a moment he turned his head up to stare at you, lips glossy and puffy from your wetness while he looked at you with a stare that you swore could swallow you whole. and fuck, did it feel like everything around you was twirling on a carousel.

stars started to form in the corners of your eyes while one leg rested over his shoulder, giving him better access you suck you dry, tongue poking into your tight hole which you swear could cum at the way his tongue worked so beautifully up and down your pussy to the point it had its own heartbeat. your mind fogged to the point of realisation as it flashed back to the scene of the guards when they allowed you both to leave the death trap so quickly with just the nod of approval from in-ho. why would they do that? what validation of protection does this man have that nobody else does?

“h-hey.. in-ho?” you managed you gasp out over your wave of moans in which he hummed against your pussy, forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “how did t-those guards just..” he thrusted his tongue so far up into your hole before you could even finish your sentence and you swore you felt you knees buck against his face at the movement, crying out a painful whimper.

his hand dug into the plush flesh of your ass as you grinded your pussy deeper into his face, pulling on his hair the same way his tongue pulled at the strings attached to your heart. riding out your orgasm, you felt your thighs clench around his pretty face that buried in between your legs as you sobbed so loud the entirety of the security guards could probably hear the joyful cries you let out.

with wobbly knees and a head filled with fairies you wrenched your eyes closed, feeling yourself let loose and finally reach the climax of your orgasm as you clenched around his tongue, your cum laced and coated his mouth.

“holy shit..” you panted harshly, chest dropping and rising at rapid speed while in-ho’s face pulled away slowly from your pussy, his glossy lips twisting into a grin before he brought his thumb to the corner of his mouth, licking away any residue you left on his face.

“you taste sweeter than i thought, baby.” his beautiful dark eyes took the view of you in awe, admiring the way your forehead beaded with sweat, eyebrows knotted in satisfaction as you ran your fingers through his hair.

slowly he rose to his feet, taking his finger he sucked out of his mouth with a small pop before tucking a loose strand of your messy hair behind your ear, smiling that sweet smile you remembered and adore all too well.

and just as quickly as he came to scroop you away, he left just as slick without a word, adjusting his shirt on the way out and leaving you alone in the bathroom, trousers bunched at your ankles.

“what the fuck just happened.”

[vieoeil-riae]

take you down with me

steb/fem!reader

warnings: NSFW, dry humping, making out, selectively mute!steb, 18+ MDNI, 3.1k words

synopsis: Both of you think the other might have died in the battle for Piltover, so you get emotional and fuck in a broom closet when you see each other again. Sounds fair, no?

read on ao3 | ao3 profile | ao3 collection | masterlist

It had been two days since the war ended, a miniscule amount of hours since the retreat of the Noxian soldiers following the death of their leader. The dead had to be collected, the wounded had to be tended to.

As someone with some amount of medical knowledge, Steb had immediately fallen into line attending to the wounded. He supposes his bedside manner was definitely below standard, the man having grown even quieter in the wake of all the death and displacement. It kept his hands busy however, and it kept his mind away from you.

When the fighting broke out he wasn’t sure where you’d ended up. Though there had been civilian evacuations, there was no guarantee you’d even managed to get on one of the airships.

For all he knew, you could be face down in the streets, another littered body buried under many others. Steb shivered at the thought, the pallor of death imagined on your face made him queasy and he couldn’t be throwing up on patients. So he shoved the thought down, drowning it in the wounds of his comrades and fellow city-goers alike.

Just a few days without you were hell, though, and he’d already had a taste of it several months ago when you’d frowned at him and averted your gaze — avoiding him for almost a week after Caitlyn’s strike team weaponised The Gray.

But that was a silly worry then, that you wouldn’t come back to him, because back then there was always the chance you would. Now, there was always a chance you’d be lost to him forever, and that cut much, much deeper.

Steb worried his lips as he debrided a fellow enforcer's wound — gruesome work, both for him and the patient — his careful hands easing out the shattered fragments of a Noxian blade from a wound on the man’s thigh. The man hissed, and so did Steb.

It smelled awful, but if he concentrated hard enough he could imagine how you smelled instead. The scent of your body soap, your perfume, your natural scent, all mixed together into a smell he could almost taste. God, how long had it been since he smelt something other than rubbing alcohol and infection?

Not that there was anyone to complain about that to. The only person who wasn’t you, that could understand all of his gestures without a long game of charades and short words was both dead and a traitor of the state. Steb swallowed around the memory of the way her ginger hair fell over her eyes as she slumped to the floor with a bullet between her eyes.

You’d understand, one look and you’d have him in your arms and muttering about how he really ought to quit. You’d trace the shape of his eyes and know him, it was the most relaxing game in the world and the prize for winning made it golden. To get him like that… without the words, it always made his heart flutter.

Steb held a sigh in the back of his throat, despite the summer heat the atmosphere was frigid. You would warm him up nicely, let him drift away in your soft skin, the swell of your breasts, the chub of your thighs. Two days of barely sleeping, you sounded like heaven.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps, a regular noise around the hall that had been turned into an impromptu medical care station. He payed no mind, still lost in his thoughts and in his work.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Running, also plenty familiar — especially on the first night.

“Steb!” Oh, the lack of sleep must really be getting to him.

“Steb!” A warm hand came to rest on his shoulder, too gentle to jostle his work. A familiar sense of care, but also maybe he was hallucinating. He stared at his hands, when had he finished with the man’s wound?

“Steb…” Melodic and warm, fond like the hand that reached up to tilt his chin towards you.

Not making things up in his head then. Steb’s eyes widened at the sight of you, perfectly fine and haloed by the setting sun through the broken window. 

His eyebrows pinched and his lips fell open just enough for you to see a sliver of his tongue. The way he stared at you was precious, like he was afraid to look away lest you vanish. You smiled fondly back, he must’ve been worried — Steb had a strong sense of duty, both to his work and you, sometimes at once, like the past few days. 

Steb’s face shifted again, blinking several times before searching your face desperately like he was trying to drink in your whole visage at once. You flustered, even in strained circumstances, he certainly knew how to make you feel wanted.

His hands gripped at your wrist, one thumb digging into your pulse. He rested there for a moment, his eyes glazing over with focus as he felt for the steady thrum of life there — finding it and latching on like it was the only thing in the world.

The frills decorating his cheeks fluttered, a ripple that spread across his cheekbones. You followed it closely, rhythmically, as it almost copied your heart beat. Following it further, you found his ears pinned closely to his skull. Worried must’ve been an understatement, then. You frowned slightly.

Steb’s eyes met yours as you traced his frills again. The energy you found there was intense, thick with a multitude of wants. Turning his head and tugging at your wrist, you felt a soft kiss land over your pulse — the shape of Steb’s lips was unmistakable, thinner on the top and plumper on the bottom and always in a sort of mildly pouty frown. 

You bit your own lip, staring intently at where his lips landed, where the projected trail of his kisses went. For a moment, Steb’s face grew somber, then soft in the most incredible way. So pretty, he was, even from where you stood above him; jewel-like eyes and soft, almost luminescent skin that looked so artful in the sunlight that poured in around you.

Taking advantage of where your hand ended up, you gently brushed his cheek. Exploratory, but known, you reached around to cup where the back of his head met his neck where your fingers found the small fins that trailed down his back. 

With even more care, your thumb gently stroked the shell of Steb’s ear, tracing over its points. Under your touch, he shivered, eyes closed as he subtly twitched between leaning into the touch and pulling away. 

A shaky sigh left his lips as he finally leaned into your touch. The way he opened his eyes and gazed at you was lethal; the intense glacier-blue of his eyes eaten up by his blown out, hazy blue pupils; the slump in his shoulders; the reverence that saturated every inch of his face.

You tilt your head subtly to the door, watching the twitch in his eyebrows and eyelids. They scrunched in worry, Steb’s head turning to look behind him again, at the patient he’d been tending to prior. You watch a little longer, letting his face speak.

The man on the floor behind him shrugged and rolled over. Steb looked back to you, searching your face also. You smiled again, cheekier, and nodded towards the door once more — your eyes focused on his, gazing at him through your lashes.

Sliding his hand around to hold yours, you pulled him up from his small stool. Steb let you, eyes shimmering as you walked hand in hand out of the door.

You dropped the collected facade the second the door closed behind you, gripping his hand tightly as you speed walked down the hall all but dragging him behind you. You heard him snort, and you smiled at the sound.

Your eyes spied exactly what you were looking for. A door slightly thinner than the others and less ornate. Crossing the hall with Steb in tow, though he looked more confused now — frills fluttering almost nervously — you carefully opened the door, listening for voices inside.

Waiting a second, you felt Steb press into your space behind you. His breath skimmed your ear as he listened alongside you and your teeth found your lips again, biting and pulling.

You deemed it clear, and possibly a little ungracefully, yanked Steb into the broom closet behind you and slammed the door shut.

In a flurry, you had his back pushed against the wall with your hands pawing at his front. Yet you refrained a moment longer to look in his eyes. Permission. You wanted permission to unravel in his arms and a sign that said he wouldn’t mind if he did the same.

His eyes seemed to glow a little brighter in the dark, and you could feel the way they traced from your lips to your eyes, to your lips again. Looking up again, this time through his lashes, Steb brushed his nose against yours; an invite.

You took it gladly, meeting his lips with your own. Just a few days without him had left you starving, the fear of having lost him plaguing your thoughts since you left, you drank him in.

The kiss grew less chaste and more desperate. You toyed at his bottom lip, plump and warm under your ministrations, listening to the way he sharply inhaled as you gently bit his lip. Steb’s hands dragged over your waist, needy, but it was a ghost of a feeling — he was refraining from touching you.

Frowning, you pulled away. Steb chased you as you left, lips unwilling to part with yours, eyes opening in confusion over your sudden absence.

He tilted his head with a concerned look. You settled your hands over his, and gently pushed them down to meet the flesh of your waist once before letting off and giving him the choice. His lips made an ‘o’ that turned into a bashful smile.

Steb wiped his hands on his jacket, he’d been fiddling with wounds, without handwashing (which he’d prefer) this was next best. One hand returned to your waist, but the other drifted up to your face, brushing stray hair from your eyes before carding through your hairline. Soft under his touch, you nodded in understanding. 

Steb kissed the corner of your mouth, reveling in the way he could feel your smile, before trailing slow kisses across your jawline as if he was savouring it. You dragged your hands up his sides, draping them across his firm shoulders as he worked towards the junction between your neck and your jaw.

You shivered at the sensation, inhaling sharply when his teeth met a sensitive spot, and sighing when his lips soothed it.

In a shuffle, he’d turned you around — pressing you to the wall instead, caging you in as he wrapped his arm around you tighter. The hand in your hair remained there, but his other hand took a downward path, tracing the curve of your spine like it meant the world to him.

Against your neck, you felt his frills flutter; ticklish and delicious, you clocked how heavy Steb’s breathing had gotten, how his ear twitched when you gasped. Your own hand weaved into the back of his hair, brushing gently against the tiny fins that began to appear where the back of his skull connected to his spine.

“‘Door’s not locked.” You mumbled into his uncharacteristically messy hair.

“Mn.” Too late to stop now, Steb was long lost in you. 

Your smell, familiar and so normal compared to everything around you. Your softness, the way your unbroken skin gave way to his touch. How warm you were, gasping and arching into him. There was no helping himself as he drank you in greedily, moving your shirt’s neckline and peppering your collarbones with nips and kisses. 

You tilted your head, both out of pleasure and a need to give Steb the most area of exposed skin to lavish as you could. 

“Steb…” You called breathily,  the feeling of his tongue dancing over your sensitive skin making your knees buckle. 

There was relief, there was need, and they brought both of you to the floor. Steb not once letting go as he followed you downwards. 

If anything, it meant he could focus on groping you more. Pawing at your chest, while his other hand slid south to squeeze you your hip — having ended up pressed to your side as you were both brought to your knees. His head was spinning, touching you was dizzying every time but right now it was satisfying a desperate sort of hunger.

Taking a deep breath against your skin, he dragged you closer. You whined at the feeling of his bulge pressing against your hip, your cheeks flushing with heat as Steb’s eyes grew even hazier. Your combined panting filled the small closet, you were warmer now but neither of you could tell if the shivering was borne of coldness or bubbling desire. 

Quietly, Steb whined, burying his face back into your neck — letting the frills that decorated his pretty cheekbones rub against your hot skin as a shiver traveled the length of his spine. He couldn’t tell if the pulsing he felt was his racing heartbeat or his throbbing cock, aching and needy.

For a moment, he pulled back. His smouldering eyes met yours and Steb thoroughly enjoyed the ruined look that swam in your lust-widened pupils. The marks and reddened skin were a delicious look on you, and it only served to make his cock feel heavier in his pants.

Steb’s head sunk back into your shoulder, biting and nipping with more forced than before — the way he seemed so intent on devouring you, tasting every inch of you that you offered, made you mewl.

You whimper, but don't resist as Steb moves to settle between your legs, all but haphazardly manhandling you with his needy grasp.

His ears flick at every sound you make. It was utter indulgence the way you hum and sigh and gasp, tantalising in a way that went straight to his cock. You sound so much better if you were even closer if that were even possible with the way he pressed your bodies flush. 

Steb let out a sinful moan, grinding his throbbing cock against your clothed cunt, catching on your warm, pulsing clit. The noise and the way his hips buck into you has your eyes fluttering closed.

You shift, tightening your legs around his slender hips, moaning into his ear as you feel him grind harder against your cunt. He pants down your neck, and you feel the sweat and heat starting to creep into the miniscule gaps between you.

Teeth nip at your earlobe, nibbling so delicately it makes you shiver. They trace your jaw, kiss the nerves that lay under your ear and trail down your soft neck in what feels like worship. You grip Steb tightly, one hand twisting itself into his jacket while the other runs up the length of his spine before drifting towards his ear, petting the ends with a trembling eagerness.

It pays off as he gasps against the junction of you neck; his hips cant into you with a jolt. You can’t help but smile, pleased, as you trail your fingers feather-light across the delicate frills you could reach — watching as they fluttered out of sync at your touch.

He pulls back, flushed, with swollen lips that had felt so hot against your skin and looks at you with such wet eyes. God, he’s pretty when he’s needing it so bad.

Your hand travels in reverse, over his frills and then his ear and tangles in his hair, before you pull him into a deep kiss. It’s hungry and heavy and you swallow each other whole as Steb’s hip move sensually slow.

His hands find their way under your shirt, finally. His fingers skip down your sides like sparking electricity. 

You moan into the kiss, pressing your warm cunt against his leaking cock in a way that makes him shudder and grunt, chasing his tongue. Your cunt throbs as he does much the same, but Steb-like — quieter, more intimate than wanton. You love it, he’s yours alone, you’re the only one who gets to hear him whimpering desperately into their ear.

His thumbs dig into your waist, holding you tighter, and you writhe in your spot at the feeling.

A breathless, loud moan bubbles from Steb’s throat as his face twists in pleasure against your mouth. He pulls back and you're graced with the pretty sight of his head tilted back and his mouth opening in a silent continuation of a moan. His cock ruts into you frantically, you hold him tightly, it feels like you’re reuniting after years — but no, a few days is all it takes to become so starved of you he becomes a sort of need-driven beast.

You can feel your own arousal pool in your underwear even better when he pushes you back into the wall hard, his hips bucking wilding against your cunt. You arch into the wild movement, deep, heady desire pooling in your gut as you angle yourself to catch you clit on Steb’s thrusts.

You pull away from the kiss, panting, and he takes the opportunity to bite down hard on your shoulder. You yelp and it only sends a pang of need to his gut. Your clit is throbbing and his cock aches as the feeling of his length rutting sloppily against your clothes folds.

Steb prying your thighs apart, gripping at your ass and pulling the soft plane of your cunt even closer. His thrusts become sharper, an unraveling held in the jerking motion that begged for just a little more.

He groans and you almost drool at the rare sound. Its muffled, in a familiar way, when he bites down on the bruised flesh of his bottom lip. He’s close. You grin through a whine at the thought, your hands tangling in his hair yet again and giving it a tug.

It pulls Steb’s face away from you enough to enjoy the way his eyes roll back as his hips move in an even more erratic pattern as he cums. The vigour of his thrusts as he rides his high tips you over the edge soon after, making you grip his hair as tight as he was gripping your ass.

Panting, still out of breath, you guide his lips to yours; a kiss strikingly sweet compared to the last god knows how long. You can feel him smile against you and the feeling is contagious. You know you both have each other, the world feels at peace again.

A/N: I figured out how to do the cool text I'm so proud of myself! (if I post this and it breaks I'm gonna lose it!) if u saw me on ao3 first ily

banner cr: @/cafekitsune

[wizzdot]

*short fic alert* (fic under page break)

Hear me out. Is this….John Price?!

The 141 get home late from a mission, Johnny and Gaz go straight to the showers and Simon slinks off to wherever it is he winds down after a tough few days.

You have been sat on the proverbial bench for the past few weeks with a bullet wound to the shoulder. While rendered useless to the team, you decide to take up a new hobby. So far, the boys have been lab rats for the taste tests of whatever concoction you pull from the oven.

The burnt cookies (that you’d forgotten to put eggs in) that Kyle had whined about almost breaking his perfect teeth. Johnny managed to gobble them up and didn’t seem to understand what the problem was, leading Simon to joke that the man had no taste buds.

Or the time you accidentally used Salt instead of Sugar in the Victoria Sponge cake. Kyle subtlety threw his slice in the bin while you weren’t looking making sounds as if he had enjoyed in. Johnny ate it, making it look so delicious that you were getting confident that your baking skills were finally improving. Simon took a slice back to his room and in the privacy of his own bed, took a bite, and immediately spat it down the toilet. “Christ Almighty, that fuckin’ twat really doesn’t have taste buds” he cursed.

You perfect your skills over the next couple of weeks, with Johnny and Kyle remaining endlessly supportive of your new venture. But the entire time, John avoids your baking attempts.

“Need to watch my weight, love”

“Wish I could have a bite, but I’m on a diet, sweetheart”

“Can’t afford to pile on the pounds at my age, Dove”

They are John’s favourite excuses. You won’t admit it, but it makes you sad. You want to make all of your boys happy. Also, he isn’t even that old for gods sake.

Simon knows that the Captain is avoiding your god awful attempts. But even Simon notices that your skills are slowly improving. He keeps sneaking cupcakes and cookies into his room and this past week, especially, they’d been… alright. Well - apart from the horrifically deformed attempt of decorating a cake like Yoda. It looked like a slimy goblin with wonky eyes - but it tasted ok.

So picture this, they get home from a three day long mission. You’d missed your boys. You’d left your most recent cake on the kitchen counter before going to bed. You climb out from your bed when you hear their tired footsteps heading down the hall.

You poke your head out of the door. Johnny and Kyle come over and give you a soft hug. “Christ, you boys stink” you say. “Fuck off” Kyle laughs, before stripping himself of his shirt “gonna hop straight in the shower anyway. See you in the mornin’, yeah?” he asks. I nod and watch as he leaves towards his room.

Johnny stands, watching Kyle retreat. “I smell even worse than him, hen” he says, trying to shove your head into his armpit. You fight him off and shoo him down the hall.

Simon walks past and gives a small nod, “you might want to go and see Price. He made a beeline for the kitchen” he grumbles, continuing on his way casually.

That comment puts you on edge. Is John hurt? Is he looking for you? You quickly slide on your fluffy slippers and shuffle down to the kitchen as quickly as you can.

The scene that greets you is the last thing you expect to see. The Captain, in a wide stance, leaning one hand on the counter, devouring your Cake (the best one you’d baked so far!!!) with just a single fork. He’d polished off at least half of it, showing no signs of slowing down.

You can’t help but giggle at the scene. “Is it good…?”

“Fuckin’ hell, Love. It’s delicious”

The blush that erupts over your cheeks is immense.

“That was supposed to be shared..” you mumble.

“Not in a sharing mood” he says through a mouthful of cake.

“It’s rude to chew with your mouth open, Captain” you joke.

“Teach me some manners then, sweetheart” he teases, stabbing the fork into the top of the remaining quarter of cake before crowding into your personal space.

“Cakes almost as sweet as you” he whispers into your left ear before leaving the kitchen with a smug smile as you stand frozen in place.

“Oh, I’ve forgotten something!” He mentions from down the hall before turning back and snatching the cake box from the counter. He pauses on his way out, pecking you on the cheek and heading to his office as if that was totally normal behaviour.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t stand touching the spot that he’d kissed for half an hour after he’d left.

Your phone interrupts your frozen state. It’s a text from the group chat.

………..

Johnny: “Kyle, d’ya think Cap told her how he feels yet?”

………

Johnny: “c’mon ya cunt, don’t ignore my message. I know your out the shower I can hear you laughin through the wall”

………

Simon’s voice bellows throughout the hallway “wrong fuckin’ chat, you moron” followed by Kyle cackling and Johnny swearing loudly.

You’re still standing in the doorway of the kitchen, in shock, when the door to John’s office opens.

“Guess you saw that, eh?” he asks, sheepishly.

You nod your head, zoning in on a piece of icing on the corner of his mouth. As if on instinct, you reach up and wipe it with your finger, sticking it into your mouth, before freezing again, realising what you’d just done.

Johns eyes follow your finger, hungrily.

“If you wanted to taste it, you could’ve just asked, love”

[foldingfittedsheets]

Since I already have established myself as a little pickle freak with no shame I have another extremely embarrassing story that will probably make you laugh.

When I started dating Brendan he was still living at home, but after we'd been dating a while he and his best friend Charlie decided to move in together. Another friend of theirs was looking for roommates and they decided to go for it. It was the lower level of a house.

Here's where I need to set the stage a little. Looking back on the time I spent in that space, I don't actually even know if it could have been nice under other circumstances. I feel almost pity for that house, full of young disgusting boys. Bare and wretched, it had minimal threadbare furniture, no decorations, and the guy who lived there already was hands down the most disgusting person I've ever met.

Not his character, but his habits. This boy's name was Josh. I genuinely don't know if their moving in with Josh was a handshake deal or if they saw the place beforehand. No sane person would ever have chosen to live there otherwise, I feel certain.

There was a kitchen. Sorta. But like. Was there a kitchen? Every counter, the whole sink, everything was just covered in dirty dishes. Brendan and Charlie said, "Josh, you need to do the dishes, we can't even wash anything cause it's so full of dirty dishes."

Josh's response to being asked to clean was to load all the dirty dishes onto a blanket. And then he dragged that blanket down the hall into the laundry room.

Crusted on residue, molding slimes, and horrible odors arose as he moved the blanket. After two months they said, "Josh, you can't just leave your dirty dishes on a blanket in the laundry room."

Josh's response was to drag the blanket of misery and miasmas into his room instead.

Josh didn't shower very much and he was a big guy. At one point I walked past his door when it opened. His girlfriend was crossing to the bathroom and I almost dry heaved directly in front of her. The smell of rotting foot, dried on sweat, and sex musk swirled together into the most eye watering assault my nose had ever faced.

So that's where our story takes place. A home of no hand towels, no soap by the bathroom sink, a blanket covered in months of early-twenties depression dishes.

I was meeting some of these people for the first time on the night of our story. Josh had a crew of two others guys who just hung around constantly. So it's me and five dudes hanging out, chatting, ignoring the various smell scapes to live in the moment. Josh left briefly to go pee.

Then I felt a stabbing in my guts. I shot a panicked look to Brendan and casually said I had to pee too. At that time in my life I was experiencing some of the most god awful IBS I've ever experienced. I knew I was going to make a crime scene in there. To my dismay there was no fan to turn on. But Brendan, like the champion partner he was, started telling a story at extremely high volume to cover the sound of my anus exploding under the force of my anxiety poops.

When I flushed and turned to the sink, I was dismayed. There was no soap. I looked around the bare bathroom and didn't see anything useful. No one had ever wanted to wash their hands here before. I then looked over the tub and spotted a tiny window that I wasn't tall enough to open. I wanted to let out the truly rank and terrible smell I had filled the bathroom with, but I had to give that up as impossible.

I slipped out and quietly said, "Hey, is there dish soap or something to wash my hands?"

"Oh," said one of Josh's friends, "There's a bar of soap by the window, let me grab it for you." This was not unreasonable, because again, I couldn't reach the window but I was doused in fear at the ridicule I was about to face.

He went to the door of the bathroom and literally staggered back from the unholy smell I'd left there. He had his arms up as if to protect his face from the malevolent beast my bowels had left behind. When he turned to us there was tears standing in his eyes.

In this house of awful smells and terrible hygiene, I was the stinkiest monster of all, bringing this boy to tears. I broke out in a sweat, ready to cry myself at the shame that was about to be cast upon me.

But instead. He said, "JOSH!"

"I can't believe you dude! Oh my god! That is the nastiest shit I've ever smelled!!" He waved the door frantically to dilute the awful power of my shit and then plowed through to open the window and air out the bathroom, passing me the soap. "I can't BELIEVE you had to go in there after him, oh my god, use the kitchen sink to wash your hands! It's gnarly!"

Everyone turned to rag on Josh for the newest addition to the gallery of smells in the house and he didn't look at me once. He laughed and pulled my shame onto his shoulders with grace, taking the bullet for me like a true hero. Only Brendan and I knew I was the stinky villain.

Josh never brought it up after, but I remain grateful to this day.

[atrirose]

∿ FIRST KISSES ft. enha

moonlight in a quite garden. that’s her beauty

synopsis : enhypen first kisses with you

warning : none just kisses. ✷ sfw fluff ?! m.list

seiu: idk if i did this justice but thanks for the request.

HESSEUNG 미소

he wasn’t the one to have unplanned confessions or kisses, he needs to make everything perfect so yeah your first kiss with him was in his kitchen, planned out by yours truly, he was cooking your favorite dish as he calls you “yn can you check if it’s good” and you go to check without know that the checking would be him kissing you “was it good?” he said winking. kisses with heeseung were slow and mellow.

JAY 너의

“you got cake on your lips” he said, you have been sitting in the cafe with your boyfriend, you have been dating for a week had suggested, it was for studying and you were doing just that or at least trying, it was impossible to study when you got this hot dude that is your boyfriend apparently staring at you like he is about to devour you “oh i’m sorry” before you could wipe it he was there kissing you, he smelled so nice, he was so gentle, a involuntary pout took over your face as he pulled away “you know yn, you can be at ease we are dating after all” and just like that your first kisses was gone, to the right person of course. kisses with jay were intimate.

JAKE 남친

it was an accident, just an accident, a stupid mistake “you look awful jake” he didn’t, he looked a love struck loser at the most “awfully kissed by my bestie” he said smiling. he asked for it, said your lipgloss looked so good, and before you could say thank you, he was already there kissing you, now you stood with him in the hall with no lipgloss on and his lip which were glossed “we should totally be kissing buddies” he said taking your hand as walked with him dumbfounded. did he like you? did you like him? should you wear the lip gloss more often?. kisses with jake were exciting.

SUNGHOON 바다

nothing could be done now huh? “so you don’t get pregnant if you kiss” your five year old sister asked your boyfriend he seems to be enjoying her questions a lot “no you don’t get pregnant with just kissing” he said chuckling to himself “so if you kissed her, she wouldn’t make me an aunt, because i was super scared so i told her not to kiss you” your sister said pointing at you and you just wanted to disappear “really? you said that, that’s why she hasn’t kissed me at all” sunghoon said with a fake pout that made your sister worried “oh no i didn’t mean that, don’t be sad, i will tell her to kiss you, let me go and get you some oreos” she said getting up and running to the pantry “so this is why you have been ignoring my kisses” he said as he pulled you in “no that’s not the reason! i was just you know awkward” he pulled you closer for a kiss, he smelled so good, like peaches and cream. “there is no need to be awkward i’m yours afterall” and just like that park sunghoon has once again made you melt into a puddle as he laughed “i brought cookies, sorry oreos are over” your sister came running “thank you” sunghoon said taking the cookies from her. thank god she came late. kisses with sunghoon were magical.

SUNOO 별

he looked so happy “it was just a kiss sunoo” and then suddenly a pout took over “it’s not just a kiss, it was yours as well as mine first kiss” he said shaking you as he explained this, “how do you know it’s my first kiss too” you said crossing your arms at your new boyfriend “i know that because no one would kiss you other than me ouch” you smacked his arms “i made sure you dated no one since the day we met” it’s been 5 years since you met in middle school “i made sure i was the first to confess, first kiss and your first husband” you smiled at his rambles, he is quite literally the biggest dork. kisses with sunoo were playful.

JUNGWON 꿀

the sun was out and hot, the ac in your best friend’s room blowing cold air, his hands on your hair. it was just so different, the way he kissed you, you always thought jungwon was your friend, someone you would introduce to your kids as their sassy uncle but here he was kissing you “i’m sorry i love you and if you do like someone else i still wanted to kiss you first and last time” he said pulling back and brushing your hair out of your face “if you really wanted to kiss me so bad you could have just said jungwon” you smiled laying on his shoulder, he didn’t need answers yet, you didn’t want to ask questions just yet. everything was perfect. kisses with jungwon were enchanting.

NIKI 그의

it was not something surprising, you both know that your glances on niki were different, you weren’t the same 10 year old bsf walking with hands intertwined. it was different, your palms in his hands were turning sweaty but he didn’t let go “so niki i want something—” niki held your hands tightly as if he was scared to let go “yn let me kiss you” there was this small moment before he lowered his head down, soft lips met yours, it wasn’t the best kiss ever but it made your stomach all mushy and your cheeks red “you suck at kissing” you said hitting him on his chest “i saw it in movies- it’s done like this, how would you know” he said hiding his face in his hoodie “yn we should never do that again” did you just get rejected before you confessed “because if we do i would fall heads over heels for that stupid smile you got on” he said taking your hands in his as he starts walking. kisses with niki were like new beginnings.

[jihyoruri]

❀𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ LUCKY GIRL kazuha nakamura x reader

↳ warnings ive!yn, idol!au, yn is a girly pink diva, placed during the 2000s (2nd gen), cuteness (kinda), italics are flashbacks

when kazuha was offered the chance to join a group alongside two former izone members, she knew it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

she still remembers sitting in her room in june 2003, watching their debut video in awe. now, three years later, she’s not just their teammate she’s practically family to sakura and chaewon.

you’d think that since kazuha was such a big fan of izone, she’d be begging chaewon and sakura to introduce her to the rest of the members. but nope. the only person on her mind was a certain member of another post izone group.

yn.

just like her, yn was part of a group with two former izone members, ive. the group was a pretty big deal, with wonyoung, the ultimate it girl, and yn, who had been crowned korea’s sweetheart.

and kazuha was completely mesmerized.

yn was just so pretty, so intriguing. you don’t even want to know how many times kazuha rewatched ive’s come to play episode just to see yn in her natural habitat.

she begged chaewon and sakura to ask yujin and wonyoung to introduce her to yn, but instead of being supportive like kazuha thought they should’ve been, they hit her with this.

“yujin, mentioned that yn is bit of a diva..” sakura trailed off.

“she also said yn’s kind of untouchable. sorry, but you wouldn’t stand a chance,” chaewon added, leaving kazuha’s mouth hanging open in offense.

untouchable my ass.

there had to be a way, some way, to talk to yn, even just once.

and then, as if the gods were listening, her chance appeared.

kazuha was a bundle of nerves when she found out she had a meeting with music bank. why on earth would they want to meet with her?

it was her first time attending a meeting without her members, and it felt strange walking into the building with only one of her managers by her side.

as they made their way down the hall, she fidgeted with her hands, too caught up in her thoughts to notice when she walked right past the door. her manager had to gently pull her back.

taking deep breaths, kazuha followed her manager into the room. she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself, but when she opened them, her heart nearly stopped

sitting there beside her own manager was a girl wearing a pink long sleeve shirt under a silver sparkly puffer vest. her hair was perfectly styled, topped with a white headband that had her name printed on it, and she wore pink uggs with little white bows.

it was obvious who she was.

kazuha wanted to scream when the girl made direct eye contact with her, but then, as quickly as it happened, she looked away, pulling out her bedazzled phone and typing something with lightning speed.

"yn, put the phone down," her manager muttered, shaking his head. when the girl ignored him and kept typing away, he sighed and snatched the phone from her hands, slipping it into his pocket.

kazuha couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto her face as she watched yn pout dramatically at her manager. the girl pinched his arm a couple of times in protest, but when it became clear he wasn’t giving the phone back, she let out an exaggerated huff and crossed her arms.

following her manager’s lead, kazuha made her way around the table. her heart nearly stopped when her manager took a seat on yn’s side but left an empty chair between them, her chair.

nervously, kazuha sat down, her movements stiff. as soon as she did, she was hit with the scent of yn’s perfume, a sweet, heady fragrance that smelled exactly like what she imagined the color pink would smell like.

“what did you just say?”

kazuha froze, flinching as she turned her head to meet yn’s curious gaze. “huh?”

“you said I smell like the colour pink.”

embarrassment flooded kazuha. she stared straight ahead, trying to avoid yn’s eyes. “I did?”

“yeah, you did.”

a tense silence filled the air, kazuha feeling like she was about to melt into her seat.

then yn broke into a grin. “that’s like the best compliment ever. but, like, of course I smell like the color pink. I mean, tell me something I don’t know,” she rambled cheerfully.

kazuha let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, a wave of relief washing over her.

yn’s excited rambling about herself came to an abrupt halt when the door opened, and someone who looked pretty important walked in, followed by two others. they greeted everyone warmly before taking their seats and setting down their folders.

the man in the center cleared his throat. “normally, we hold auditions for mcs,” he began, “but we’ve decided to offer the positions directly to you two.”

kazuha’s eyes widened, a small gasp escaping her lips. her? an mc? she never would’ve expected this. she’d always thought if anyone in her group were to get such an opportunity, it’d be eunchae or yunjin—definitely not her

“with yn’s ‘princess’ persona and kazuha’s ‘black swan’ image,” the man continued, “we thought you two would make the perfect pair. so, what do you think?”

a brief silence followed as kazuha tried to process the situation.

then yn broke it, her voice cutting through like a bell. “can the stylists make sure every single one of my outfits is pink?”

kazuha blinked, caught between disbelief and amusement, while the room erupted into laughter.

it didn’t take long for kazuha to notice yn’s diva tendencies once they started mcing together on music bank.

but unlike what chaewon and sakura had warned her about, kazuha didn’t find yn unbearable or hard to deal with. in fact, she adored it. every dramatic eye roll, every over the top request, every moment yn complained about how the lights didn’t properly highlight her “best angles” just made kazuha smile.

“ugh, why is this mic stand so tall?” yn whined one friday morning as they prepared to go live. for their intro they had to jokingly sing one of the preforming groups songs, she glanced at the staff, snapping her fingers like she was summoning a butler. “can someone fix this? it’s ruining my vibe.”

kazuha, standing quietly beside her, leaned over and adjusted the mic for yn herself. “how’s that?” she asked softly.

yn blinked at her, clearly caught off guard for a second, before giving her a dazzling smile. “perfect. you’re such a lifesaver, zuha!”

“i told you,” chaewon had sighed during one of their dorm hangouts, “you can’t handle someone like yn. she’s too... much, yujin and wonyoung can handle her because they live with her.”

“she’s not too much,” kazuha argued, her tone soft but firm. “she’s just... unique.”

“unique?” sakura snorted, leaning back on the couch. “the girl demanded a pink carpet for her entrance at an event last week, kazuha. pink. carpet.”

“and?” kazuha shrugged, her lips tugging into a small smile. “she pulled it off, didn’t she?”

“you’re impossible,” chaewon groaned, shaking her head.

despite their teasing, kazuha couldn’t help but feel that yn wasn’t untouchable at all. if anything, yn was just oblivious to the signs kazuha had been dropping since day one.

there were moments, though, where kazuha started to question if yn even liked girls. she’d scroll through old interviews, rewatch clips, and analyze every moment for clues.

“yunjin,” kazuha said one evening, barging into the kitchen where her member was snacking, “look at this.”

yunjin took kazuha’s heavy laptop , watching a clip of yn fangirling over a famous female idol.

“okay,” yunjin said, handing the laptop back. “and?”

“and doesn’t it seem like she could, you know...” kazuha hesitated. “like girls?”

yunjin raised an eyebrow. “zuha, she called the idol ‘taker of her heart,’ and then two minutes later, called a male actor her ‘future husband.’ she’s not giving you much to work with here.”

kazuha groaned, collapsing onto the chair beside her. “but she flirts with me sometimes!”

“flirts with you?” yunjin repeated with a laugh. “yn flirts with everyone by accident she probably flirted with the barista who made her coffee this morning.”

“you don’t get it,” kazuha muttered, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

still, she couldn’t help but notice those little moments. the way yn would casually brush her hand against kazuha’s arm, or lean in just a bit closer than necessary during rehearsals.

“ugh, zuha, does my hair look okay?” yn asked one day, tugging at kazuha’s sleeve as they waited backstage.

kazuha turned to look at her, her heart racing. yn’s perfectly styled curls framed her face, and her soft pink lip gloss caught the light just right.

“you look perfect,” kazuha said honestly.

yn grinned, flipping her hair dramatically. “of course I do, but thanks for confirming.”

kazuha’s members, of course, never stopped teasing her.

“you’re really setting yourself up for heartbreak, you know,” sakura warned one evening after their schedules were done.

“i’m not,” kazuha insisted.

“you are,” chaewon said. “but you’re stubborn, so do what you want.”

despite their doubts, kazuha kept proving them wrong. she adjusted to yn’s quirks effortlessly, from keeping up with her endless rambling to understanding her unspoken need for someone to hold her bag when she was too busy doing whatever she thinks is more important.

and it just kept getting better for kazuha every day and today was proof of that, after their live show. they walked off set, yn was her usual bubbly self, chatting about how the lighting on stage was “pink perfection” today. kazuha walked beside her, smiling softly at her excitement.

just as they reached the hallway, yn suddenly stopped and turned to kazuha. “oh, by the way, this has been on my mind a lot lately.” she said casually, like she was commenting on the weather, “i’m not really into girls, but you’re really cute, like I would definitely date you.”

kazuha froze in her tracks, her eyes wide as she tried to process what yn had just said.

meanwhile, yn didn’t even seem phased. she flashed kazuha a bright smile, waved, and walked off toward her dressing room like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb.

kazuha stood there, stunned, her heart pounding in her chest.

“did she just...” kazuha whispered to herself, replaying the moment in her head.

all she could do was stare after yn, who disappeared behind her dressing room door with the same dramatic flair she did everything else.

[intoanotherworld23]

Wrapped Around My Throat

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, THIS ONE SHOT CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT SO YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, use of sex toy, use of vibrator, mild choking, sex, unprotected sex, p in v, swear words, minor fingering

Length: 900+ words

Summary: Joel wants to try some new things in the bedroom with you, and he unlocks the wild animal tearing at the cage

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

Laying on your side with Joel behind you as he was holding your leg in the air. Your arm gripping his thigh hard as you felt him going in and out of you. His arm underneath your head giving it something to rest on.

Feeling every thrust pushing in and pulling up driving up a rhythmic beat. Loving the thickness of his cock stretching out your inner walls. He was guiding you to the edge of pleasure. Feeling him pulsing inside of you both of you pushing each other into a frenzy.

"Oh fuck." You cried out as he slide his cock easily in and out of you.

“You are absolutely soaked.” The sounds of your wetness echoing around the room.

He was breathing heavily into your neck as he continued to pump his cock inside of you. Inhaling your scent of need and desire like it was the worlds sweetest smell. You felt so incredibly full, and you didn't know how you were going to take anymore.

“That feel good baby?”

“Mhm.” Nodding your head unable to find the words to speak.

“Aw did you forget how to speak?” His tone condescending.

The scruff of his beard was scratching against your neck, and he whispered dirty things in your ear. Your head thrown back so he had easy access to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses along the skin. Your eyes closed in pure ecstasy you didn't want this feeling to end.

You could feel the juices from your pussy slopping against your thighs every time he drilled into you. Your ass cheeks slapping against his pelvis with each movement he made. Your pussy making a squishing sound that made you feel flustered.

"Hold on." He mumbled against your ear as he stopped thrusting inside of you to reach into his drawer digging something out.

You whispered for him to continue having been close to your orgasm you didn't want to lose it. Whining when he was taking a little longer than you would have liked.

Looking over quickly to see what he was doing then leaning your head back down. Feeling a cold object touch your wet folds, and then a high vibration buzzing against your clit making you squeal.

"Shit just like that Joel." You moaned out your pussy clenching around his cock.

Joel has always talked about using a toy on your during sex. He just never expressed when he wanted to do that. Now here he was deep inside of you while rubbing a vibrator against you.

“I can feel you squeezing my cock baby.”

Lifting his leg up even higher so he could get in a deeper angle. His cock slamming into your sweet spot making you see stars. Sweat was forming around your back and forehead. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours making your cheeks heat up.

Both your bodies rocking back and forth clashing into each other. The bed was shaking underneath you hearing then creak from the bed springs. If he kept going like this you were worried he was going to break the bed.

“God you drive me so fucking crazy.” Growling in your ear as he nipped at it.

He moved the toy around your clit harder and harder. That fire was forming in the pit of your stomach and you knew you weren't going to last much longer. Your legs were shaking feeling yourself getting closer to release.

“Stretching this tight cunt out.”

“Joel.” Whining pathetically with your mouth wide open.

“I know baby I know I’m gonna get you there.”

Not even knowing what to do with your hands either having them on his body, or in your hair. At one point while his one hand was moving the toy against you, his arm that was underneath you moved slightly. His hand reaching up to grab you around your neck lightly choking you.

A smile appearing on your face making him rut into you even harder. He loved seeing you like this and what a desperate wild animal you were becoming. He’s never wrapped a hand around your throat, but he was just living in the moment.

Applying just the tiniest bit of pressure to your throat so you could still breathe. It was overstimulating but absolute fucking bliss. Joel could see it written across your face, and he wanted to keep that image in his head.

“Fuck you look so good like this sweetheart.”

Both your bodies were rocking back and forth together in unison. The smell of sex and sweat was filling your nostrils. Moans and groans echoing across the room. Joel was straining himself waiting for you to reach that sweet release.

"Oh god I'm gonna cum Joel." You whined pushing your head back.

“That’s a good girl for me.”

Joel groaning as he felt your pussy squeezing his cock. Your hips began to move in the rhythm of his cock. Still continuing to use the toy against you egging you on. Stopping for a quick minute, before his wrists would start snapping the toy against your clit and folds.

Your breathing was becoming heavier by the minute. His hand using the toy kept the tip of it against your clit pressing down harder so your back was arching against Joel. He was always one to tease you, and bring you to tears when it came to sex.

"Cum all over my cock baby."

That was all it took before you felt your toes curling in the air, and you pussy squeezing him so tightly as you came around him. The pit of your stomach coiling as a wave of warmth rushed over your body.

“Oh fuck I’m there sweetheart.” He warned you through his teeth.

Feeling your body drop dead slumped against him as he pumped into you a couple more times. Groaning loudly as his cock twitched inside of you before squirting his warm load into you. The both of you out of breath after your kinky lovemaking.

Leaning his head forward so his forehead was pressed up against your shoulder. Giving you little tender kisses his hand running circles on your thighs in a soothing way. Feeling your eyes becoming heavier as you strained to keep them open.

There was no way your body was going to be able to move. Your legs felt like cooked noodles, and your hands were lightly trembling. It was an intense feeling almost like a rush of excitement or adrenaline.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you.” His soft hands touching your neck.

“No it actually felt really good.” Confessing as you looked away feeling slightly embarrassed for liking it so much.

“Good cause we are definitely doing that again.”

His hand reaching down between your legs to your raw cunt. Gasping as he gently pushed a thick finger inside of you. Your inner walls spreading open around it as you selfishly lifted your hips it. Feeling like you didn’t know if you’d be able to handle anymore, but Joel knew you could.

Joel grinning as he watched the expression on your face. Knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you. He wasn’t exactly done with you yet, and had more in store for you.

“Get ready for a long night sweetheart.”

[blackenedsnow]

VAMPIRE READER AND BEETLEJUICE?? 🙏🙏🦇🦇 READER NEEDS TO FEED 🙏

bite me

WARNING: Blood (vampire stuff)

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Vampire! Reader

NOTE: Oh my GOD, thank you for this request. You don’t know how much I LOVE the idea of a vampire reader. I could write about this dynamic forever. Seriously, this is everything. <3 I know feeding off a dead guy makes no sense, but for the sake of this one shot.. pretend it does.

SUMMARY: You’re a vampire in need of a feed, and Beetlejuice is more than happy to oblige. After all, you two are lovers, and nothing quite says romance like a late-night snack.

The place was quiet, draped in shadows, the only sound the slow tick of the grandfather clock in the hall. A chilly draft whispered through the stone halls, carrying the faint smell of autumn leaves and earth. Normally, this was your favorite time of night—when everything fell silent, and the world seemed made just for you.

But tonight, there was a dull ache gnawing at the pit of your stomach. The familiar hunger for blood was creeping in, the kind you couldn’t ignore any longer. You usually planned ahead, so you’d have something to satisfy it before the cravings got intense. But lately, you’d been… distracted.

“Hey, bats-for-brains!” Beetlejuice's loud, nasally voice tore through the quiet like a firework. You winced, but couldn’t hide a small smile as he made his way into the grand, dimly lit parlor.

“There you are, babe!” he smirked, waggling his brows at you.

You rolled your eyes, but your voice came out softer than you intended. “Beetlejuice, I’ve told you about the shouting.”

He leaned closer, eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I know. It’s why I keep doing it.”

The gnawing hunger in your stomach reminded you why you’d actually let him stick around tonight. Beetlejuice may be many things—irritating, vulgar, incorrigible—but he was also… tempting. And he’d always been more than willing to let you have a little taste, no questions asked.

“Beej,” you said, voice low, a hint of a growl slipping in. His eyes sparkled at that, and he leaned back, eyebrows lifting in mock surprise.

“Well, well! You’ve got that look in your eye. What is it, time for dinner?” He grinned wide, baring his teeth as if daring you to bite. He’d always found the whole “vampire” thing fascinating; you half-wondered if it was because it reminded him of the Neitherworld.

You nodded slowly, shifting closer. “If you don’t mind.”

“Oh, babe, you know I never mind.” He flopped back on the velvet settee, holding his arms out wide as if he were presenting himself to royalty. “Bite me! Go on, let’s make it dramatic!”

You chuckled, sliding next to him. “You never take anything seriously, do you?”

He shrugged. “Hey, if I took everything seriously, I wouldn’t be here, now would I? Besides—” he leaned in, voice dropping to a low rasp—“I know you love it.”

That was enough to make your hunger sharpen, and you leaned in, letting your fingers trace along the collar of his suit. His pulse beat under your touch, a little faster than usual. He might joke all the time, but he could never hide that shiver of excitement whenever you got close.

“Alright, hold still,” you murmured. He didn’t move, his grin widening.

You tilted his head back, baring the pale, almost lifeless skin at his neck. You bit down gently, letting your fangs sink in, and felt him stiffen, a low groan slipping from his lips.

“Holy… jeez, Y/N,” he breathed out. His voice was a mixture of awe and something softer, something almost tender.

The taste of him was familiar, a mix of the Neitherworld’s strange, earthy sweetness and just a hint of iron. It wasn’t like feeding from anyone else; it was distinctly him, and it left you feeling light-headed and exhilarated. You felt his fingers brush along your back, oddly gentle for someone like him, and you let yourself linger a moment longer than necessary.

You finally pulled back, licking the last traces of blood from your lips as he slumped back with a dreamy grin. “Now that’s what I call dinner and a show.”

You laughed, wiping your mouth as you looked at him sprawled out, clearly a little dazed. “You enjoyed that way too much.”

“Who, me?” he gasped, feigning shock. “You know I only did it for you, baby. But if I happen to enjoy it… well, that’s just a bonus.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He chuckled, pushing himself up from the settee and brushing off his suit, though it didn’t make much difference in its already-disheveled state. “What can I say? I’m a giver. Ain’t I the best boyfriend?”

You laughed again, unable to argue. As unconventional as he was, Beetlejuice really did make you feel alive—even in the quiet, empty spaces of your ancient home, he filled it with his energy, breaking the silence with his loud, brash love.

With him, you felt less like a creature of the night and more like someone who belonged, someone who was understood, even if that someone happened to be undead.

“Yeah,” you said softly, leaning against him, “I guess you are.”

“Aw, babe, you’re killing me!” he said with a grin, throwing an arm around you.

And for once, you didn’t mind the noise.

[cuntressgoingdigital]

free palestine! click this link for more info + dono links (if you have links to any other gfms/resources pls send them to me so i can update the list!)

hello hello i am here with some abby x autistic! reader content bc i know i cant be the only autistic person obsessed with her. yes this is completely self indulgent.

i kinda just threw words on the page, but i hope someone out there will enjoy :)

it takes ages for you and abby to actually get together because you were entirely oblivious to her advances. during breakfast you had spent a solid thirty minutes talking about the different wildflowers that grew in north america and their significance in literature. abby thought your passion for the subject was sweet so while on patrol she picked some flowers that kind of looked like the ones in the pictures you showed her. when she presented them to you, your squeals of joy made her entire face light up. 

“ah, thank you!”

you think nothing of it, assuming she was just being nice. you always assume she’s just being nice. so when you accidentally end up on a moonlit picnic date with her and she asks to kiss you, your eyebrows raise in confusion. 

abby looks mortified “oh god, did i make things weird? i’m sorry.”

“no, no!” you reassure her. “i just…didn’t know this was a date.”

she could throw up on the spot. had she misread the situation? sure she never said the word “date”, but she told you that she wanted to spend some time alone with you. she brought you flowers, wine (if you could even call it that) that owen had been fermenting, and you two had been cuddling under the stars for the better part of an hour. 

“you can kiss me.” your fingers fiddled with the stitching of the blanket beneath the two of you. “i would like that, actually.” 

when you start dating you apologize profusely about all of your sensory quirks. you didn’t want to cuddle after she washed her hair because you hated the feeling of her wet hair on your skin. she kept separate blankets for you because you didn’t like the texture of the fabric on hers. 

you nearly cried after the only time you snapped at her. someone was playing music in the mess hall, everyone was talking over each other, the smell and texture of the mushy broccoli was overwhelming, and abby was asking too many questions about your assignments for the day. 

“please just be quiet for a second!” your tone had been a little sharper than you intended. abby looked hurt until tears welled in your eyes and you apologized over and over. you talked it over after dinner and obviously abby wasn’t mad at you (not that she ever could be). 

after that, whenever she would play music she always made a point to ask 

“is that too loud?”

and you absolutely hated patrol. all the yelling, the occasional gunfire, that god awful clicking. it was an overstimulating nightmare. abby often picked up your shifts whenever she could to save you the misery of leaving base. on the off chance that she couldn’t, she would always make sure a few pairs of ear plugs were in your bag.

you fight the need to vocal stim around people who aren’t her. it was a weight off your shoulders when you finally felt brave enough to explain it to her. at first, she just ignored them, growing accustomed to the empty noise. one day, when you’re softly meowing on repeat, she decided to join in. the two of you would meow back and forth until you erupted into giggles.

abby never made you feel weird about anything. sure, she had questions, but never in an invasive way. she just wanted to cater to and accommodate you as best she could. all because she loves you. 

i may write more of this if people like it? i have a plethora of experiences to draw inspo from lmao

[moonkake-143]

Memories of You | S.H.

A Steve Harrington x fem!reader oneshot

Word Count: 1.3k

Summery: Steve remembers how he fell in love with you and finally knows what love really is.

This isn't edited like at all but I wrote it the other night at like 3am and idk I felt like sharing. It's something I needed to write and I hope you all like it! Steve might be ooc but oh well lol

Steve Harrington was never observant, but he only was when it came to you. You met him in high school. He saw you in English class hidden behind a book, nose crinkled and eyes wide in awe at the words on the page. He smelled the sun on your skin as he passed you by as you talked with a long haired boy. But he was with Nancy, his eyes casted away from you and onto her with pure adoration. Or was it? Steve wasn’t sure how he felt with her, just that it felt right and safe. Then one day you ran into him in the halls, it was his fault of course. He was spacing out and turned a corner and there you were. His large frame had knocked you down and he was quick to help you. 

“Watch where you’re- oh it’s you…” 

Your voice dripped like honey in his ears and he swore he felt his heart pounding out of his chest. Felt the sweetness on his tongue but this was not the time for that. 

“You’ve heard of me?” 

He tried to be suave, tried to channel his long dead King Steve persona. But to no avail he cringed inside and apologized. 

“It’s hard not to hear of you but it’s alright I should have been careful.” 

You looked away from him and to the ground. You didn’t want him to perceive you, didn’t want problems with his friends. So you quickly gathered your stuff and scurried away like a terrified mouse. 

Steve simply stared at you before apologizing again. He tried to hide his awkwardness with a smile but the bell rang and you were lost to the sea of bodies along the halls. 

-

Steve remembers the day you kissed him. You were yelling at him about something he doesn’t remember. Maybe about the kids, school work, hell his parents? He can’t remember, all he can picture from that day is the way you grabbed him by the collar to shut him up with a kiss. A stark contrast to the shyness he was used to. He was stunned at first, his mind going blank, your lips the only thing he could imagine. They were soft and you tasted sweet, like strawberry chapstick. He remembers how wide you smiled after he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to kiss him again. How he didn’t want to stop kissing you, his lips kissing every inch of your face. You giggled and he swore the world disappeared. With Nancy he felt it was right.

But with you it was perfect, it was everything. 

-

Steve remembers the first “I love you” it was after he escaped the Russians. He was so badly beat up but he could only think about seeing you again. He was terrified to think he would die without ever telling you, hoping and praying that you were alright. That you were as far away from this as possible. Once the mind flayer was vanquished he ran straight to you. You were tired and looked a mess, tears stained your cheeks as you ran into his embrace. He held you tight, hoisting you from the ground like nothing. You were sobbing then and he couldn’t stop himself from crying with you. His voice fractured as he spoke.

“I didn’t know if I would see you again, I thought they were gonna kill me down there. But I just couldn’t let them get me knowing I had to come back to say I love you. God I love you so much sweetheart. You mean the world to me, I’ll fight monsters and Russians all over again if it meant I could kiss you one last time.” 

“Steve you idiot, I love you too. Fuck, you could have died! I love you so fucking much don’t ever fight anything without me next to you okay?” 

“Yes dear I am an idiot but I’m your idiot.” 

“Shut up and kiss me you sap.” 

And Steve did just that. 

-

Steve remembers saying “I do”. It was a nice summer day and the ceremony was small. It was attended by all of your friends and family. Robin was your “maid of honor” of course and she wore a suit because it’s Robin. Dustin was Steve’s best man because of course he was. His parents didn’t show, which was for the best he thought. His father never cared for you and his mother didn’t really try to sway him. But he didn’t care this was his day with you. 

He stood at the end of the alter with his suit and tie and his hair slicked back. He was so nervous, so clammy and when the music started and he saw you walking down with Hopper, he was stunned. You were perfect, beyond perfect that he couldn’t help but shed tears. Everyone awed and you smiled behind the veil. He sniffled when Hopper pat his back and handed you to him. Slowly he pulled up the veil and he swore he saw the stars in your eyes. 

“You’re so beautiful…” 

“And you’re so handsome…” 

Once the music settled and the crowd settled they began the ceremony. When asked for vows you pulled out a piece of paper and blew on it as faux dust spread. Everyone laughed and you giggled and he was laughing. You cleared your throat and he smiled bright. 

“Steven Harrington, yes I’m using your government name. We met when you mowed me down in the hallway in high school. But I’ll be honest to say that before that I had always kept an eye on you. You intrigued me, like a puzzle I couldn’t solve. However when I got to know you I realized that you weren’t a puzzle to be solved. But someone to be loved and cherished. You are an amazing man, you’re kind hearted, courageous and have amazing hair- but to me you are all those things and more. You are not a perfect man, nor am I a perfect woman but you are everything. I love you so much, that I want to give you everything because you deserve it, and I hope I can give that to you. Because you are my everything. Thank you for smacking into me in the hallway because I wouldn’t have gotten to marry my best friend.” 

You were shaking the entire time, he could tell. Your eyes were full of tears but you tried to keep them back to keep from ruining the makeup. You took a breath and looked up at him when you finished. When it was his turn he didn’t bother to pull out a paper because he knew exactly what to say.

“My darling sweetheart, I was always observant when it came to you. I noticed you in English class first, where you were hidden behind a book. Your nose would scrunch up and you would have wide eyes when you read the words. When you talked with your friends I would walk by only to smell the sun on your skin and feel like I was home. I was thinking about you that day we met. How you confused me, how you made me feel things I never felt before. How much I wanted to know your heart and your mind. You are a firecracker of a woman, you yelled at me all the time. But I deserved it to be fair. But you are kind, courageous and have the best smile I have ever seen in my entire life. My love for you can not be determined by a number because the number is so massive that it’s inconceivable. You were my everything before I was yours. I loved you before you kissed me that night we fought over something small. I love you now and I’ll love you until the world crumbles and turns to ash and there's nothing but rock. I want to give you the world and more because you deserve it. Thank you for being alive, for dealing with me. Thank you for giving me a chance when I didn’t deserve it. I love you so much.” 

Steve remembers kissing you surrounded by festive cheer and he finally knows what love is.

[nameless-jamie]

TARTT'S CORNER - Jamie Tartt x Y/N

Masterlist - Next Chapter

Chapter 2: The Star Player

It was Keeley who had orchestrated the meeting, her signature enthusiasm ensuring everything went off without a hitch. Y/N had received the text late the night before:

“Nelson Road, 2 PM. Jamie’s agreed! Don’t make him regret it. ;) xx”

Now, standing just outside the stadium she’d admired for years as a fan, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of awe. Nelson Road wasn’t just a football pitch—it was hallowed ground. The stands she’d once cheered from as a die-hard supporter loomed in the distance, their steel frames gleaming under the afternoon sun. The faint smell of freshly cut grass and faint echoes of distant chatter filled the air, making her heart swell. But today wasn’t about her as a fan. Today, she was here on business.

She adjusted the strap of her bag and straightened her jacket, steeling herself for what she hoped would be a productive—and not overly intimidating—afternoon.

The reception area buzzed with activity as she stepped inside, and almost immediately, she felt eyes on her. A staff member walking past did a double take, then stopped mid-stride.

“Wait… are you Y/N Y/L/N? From Striker’s Corner?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”

The woman let out an excited squeal. “Oh my God, I love your podcast! That interview with Jude Bellingham? Amazing! My husband still talks about how he flirted with you the whole time.”

Y/N laughed awkwardly, her cheeks warming. “Yeah, uh, Jude’s got… a lot of charm.”

This wasn’t the first time someone had brought that up. Jude’s cheeky flirting during their interview had gone viral on social media, spawning countless memes and teasing comments from fans. Ao Jamie won't be the first cocky striker she's interviewing...

“Could I get an autograph? Maybe a selfie?” the woman asked eagerly.

Before Y/N could respond, a small crowd of staff had begun to gather, whispering and pointing in her direction. Some approached shyly, others more boldly, but all had one thing in common—they adored her podcast.

As Y/N posed for selfies and signed a few stray notebooks, she couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the moment. She’d come here to meet a Premier League star, and yet she was the one being treated like a celebrity.

“I’m never gonna live this Jude thing down, am I?” she muttered to herself as another staff member gushed about that infamous episode.

Amid the chaos, a familiar voice cut through. “Ah, there you are!”

Y/N turned to see Sam Obisanya, his ever-cheerful demeanor lighting up the room. He was already grinning as he approached, offering her a warm handshake.

“Sam!” Y/N exclaimed, genuinely happy to see him. “It’s so good to see you again!”

“And you, Y/N,” he replied. “Though I must say, I wasn’t expecting to find you signing autographs in the reception area.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “Don’t even start. It’s your fault—if you weren’t so charming and funny on the podcast, maybe the Richmond people wouldn’t think I’m so interesting.”

Sam laughed, then motioned for her to follow him. “Come on, let me take you to Jamie. He’s… well, he’s Jamie, but I think you’ll manage him.”

As they walked through the halls of Nelson Road, Y/N took in every detail. The framed photos lining the walls, the faint hum of voices from the locker rooms, and the occasional glimpse of players and staff going about their day. It was surreal to be here, not as a spectator, but as someone with a purpose.

When they reached the pitch, Y/N spotted Jamie immediately. He was juggling a ball near the center circle, his movements smooth and effortless. He radiated confidence, his usual swagger evident even in something as simple as a warm-up.

Sam led her closer, then called out, “Jamie! Your guest is here.”

Jamie stopped juggling and turned to face them, squinting slightly against the sun. His expression was unreadable at first as he walked over, the ball tucked casually under his arm.

Jamie Tartt didn’t really listen to podcasts. To him, they were just people talking about stuff he could barely be arsed to care about. So when Keeley had mentioned some “brilliant podcaster” she knew, wanted to interview him, he’d just shrugged it off. He’d assumed it’d be some boring football nerd—probably middle-aged, glasses, maybe a bit awkward. Definitely not this.

As he approached, he tried not to let the surprise show on his face. Bloody hell, she’s fit. Like, properly fit. Way too put-together for someone who talked about football for a living.

He ran a quick hand through his hair, keeping his face neutral. He didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard. But, God, why had no one warned him? Sam had said something about her being “cool” and “easy to talk to,” but Jamie hadn’t expected a fucking supermodel to interview him about football.

Sam clapped Jamie on the shoulder. “Be nice, Jamie. Y/N’s good people.”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll play nice.”

Sam shot Y/N an encouraging look before excusing himself, leaving her alone with Jamie.

“Right,” Jamie said, turning back to her. “So, you’re the podcast lady.” His voice carried a hint of mockery, and his eyes flicked over her, appraising.

Y/N held her ground, offering a polite smile. “And you’re the star player who doesn’t like interviews.”

Jamie smirked, clearly amused. “Ah, you get me. I'm flattered.”

As they continued to interact—Jamie occasionally tossing cheeky comments her way—Y/N could sense the guardedness behind his bravado. But every so often, his gaze lingered just a little too long, his curiosity evident.

When Y/N mentioned moving the briefing to a more private area for a little privacy, she motioned to a door with a little window that looked unoccupied. Jamie couldn’t help but laugh. “The boot room? Classy,” he quipped, though the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

“I mean, unless you want to talk out here with everyone listening…” Y/N shot back.

“Boot room it is,” Jamie said, smirking and grabbing her wrist to pull her inside.

The boot room was exactly as Y/N had expected—cramped, cluttered, and filled with the unmistakable smell of sweat and leather. Jamie plopped down on a bench, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, while Y/N gingerly perched on the edge of a nearby stool, trying not to touch anything sticky.

“This is cozy,” she said dryly, earning a chuckle from Jamie.

“Yeah, real five-star treatment, for Richmond's star striker and a global podcaster,” he replied.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the air between them charged with unspoken tension. Jamie’s posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp, watching her closely as if trying to figure her out.

Y/N cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “So, Jamie, before we get into the details of the podcast, I just want to say I appreciate you agreeing to this. I know it’s not exactly your thing.”

Jamie shrugged. “Keeley’s persuasive. And Sam wouldn’t shut up about how great you are, so I figured I’d see for myself.”

Y/N smiled faintly. “Well, I hope I don’t disappoint.”

“You won’t,” Jamie said, almost too quickly. Realizing how sincere he’d sounded, he quickly added, “I mean, the verdict stills stands out, you know.”

Y/N suppressed a laugh. It was clear Jamie was putting up a front, but she could sense there was more to him beneath the exterior.

As they began discussing logistics for the episode—topics, format, and timing—Jamie’s initial cockiness started to fade. He still threw in the occasional cheeky comment, but Y/N could tell he was warming up to the idea. And when she mentioned her passion for football, his interest visibly piqued. They talked about who she already interviewed and her views on the Premier League at the moment.

"So, if City keeps playing like their defense is a brick wall, which it clearly isn't at the moment, Chelsea might have a shot at being number 1 this season." Y/N concluded her rant.

“You really study hard on that stuff, don’t you?” he said, almost grudgingly.

“I like to think so,” Y/N replied with a small smile.

Jamie nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Alright, podcast lady. Let’s see if you can handle me, live on air.”

Y/N grinned. “Oh, I can handle you, Jamie Tartt. The question is — can you handle me?”

For the first time, Jamie looked genuinely intrigued, a flicker of curiosity dancing in his eyes.

And just like that, the game was on.

As Jamie held the door open for her to step out of the boot room, he glanced at her one more time, something almost thoughtful flickering in his expression. Should he really bring back the prince-of-pricks to destroy such an important interview for your career, after you told him you built this podcast against all odds.

“See you at your studio then, yeah?” he said casually, though the edge of curiosity in his tone betrayed him.

Y/N nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “See you there. Don’t be late.”

As she walked away, Jamie couldn’t help but watch her go, wondering—not for the first time that afternoon—what he’d just gotten himself into.

[nfwmybaby]

to be alone (with you)

_↷pairing: andrew x reader (tried my best to make reader as gender neutral as possible) ˎˊ˗

_↷word count: 1.3k ˎˊ˗

_↷warnings: cigarettes, making out ? ˎˊ˗

♡┊͙thinking about sharing a cigarette with him!! first fic pls go easy on me 😭

“I love you too, Andrew. And I love being alone with you as well.” You take a hit of the cigarette you stole from Andy’s right hand. You don’t know how long you stayed in that position for. How long the soft shake of the trees and the quiet of your heart beating played a soundtrack fond to Andrew. He could die, then and there, and he would not care if heaven and hell existed afterwards, because he’d already experienced something greater than heaven— you.

The sound of music and conversations surrounded the house. It carried itself through every hall, every room, only to be let out by the opened windows, and even then you could hear it from a mile away. Thank goodness Andrew’s house was miles away from the rest of civilization.

“Y/N!” A person calls for you, snapping you out of your thoughts, “Andy went to hide away in one of the rooms again!”

Christ sake.

Why had you even accepted the invitation to the outing knowing you would just be put on Andy-watch? As the constant chatter of people were starting to make your skin crawl, you were albeit a little thankful to be given the perfect chance to crawl away. You understood why he would leave his own party, some people started getting way too much. Still, couldn’t he have told you as to where he was going?

“Alright I’ll go find him.”

“Thank you! And tell him Alex is one minute away from leaving if he’s unattached from Andrew any more.”

You joke, “Fucking boyfriends” And with that you walk away, grabbing a plate of brownies before pulling out your phone to open Andrew’s contact up.

The people are looking for you

Are they sending you to look for me again?

Yes.

I come alone.

Baring peace and some brownies, if you let me

🧐

Is it the brownies I like best?

If you mean the ones I make, yes!

Peace offer accepted.

I’m technically outside.

Have fun trying to find me <3

Oh my god you hate to see me

Quite the contrary, I love to see you, especially when you’re all annoyed

I hate you, Andrew John Hozier-Byrne.

Yeah, Y/N M/N L/N, sure you do.

*message disliked by Y/N*

Good god. You were going crazy looking for him with only his vague ass hint. With the opening of his bedroom you were instantly greeted by the smell of cigarettes and a glass slide door revealing the balcony. There sat the person you had just been looking for, his back facing you. As he turned his face to meet you, a sly smirk grew, bringing the cigarette that rested on his left hand to his mouth,

“15 minutes! You had me waiting for you for 15 agonizing minutes.” He pats the empty chair to the right of him, gesturing for you to sit. You oblige, making your way towards him,

“It’s not my fault you didn’t tell me where you were. ‘I’m technically outside’ had me lost and confused.” You rested your brownies next of the ashtray on the table in front of you both,

“Where’s the fun in that? Plus. I am technically outside. And this is, quite literally, my bedroom. Why would I be anywhere else?” He teases.

You scrunch your face, getting more annoyed with him with every breath he takes, “You know, maybe downstairs, at the party you decided to host? You’re so lucky you’re pretty”

“Aw. You think I’m pretty.” He tried to cover it up, but he couldn't, the paleness of his skin was immediately greeted with a soft blush when the words left your mouth.

“Shush now, Andrew. May I please have a hit of your cigarette?”

He thought for a minute, his eyes darting between the cigarette and the soft pleads of your eyes, “You ask so kindly, but I don’t want to share till you confirm you think I’m pretty, you pure feek.” He takes another hit off his cigarette, but before he can exhale away from you, your body finds itself moving without much thought. Your hand softly guides his head back towards you, a shaky exhale being forced out of him as you lean in close enough to practically feel him exhale. The smoke fills the distance between you two, and without breaking eye contact with him (despite his eyes being glued to your lips at this point) you inhale the smoke he exhaled from his last hit.

“I think you’re a total ride.” You say as you guide the hand with the cigarette to your lips.

“Y/N.” The desperation seeped out of the call of your name like a plea. His hand takes back its control despite it unknowingly still on eachother.

You blow out the smoke, “Andrew.”

He watches you closely as you inhale and exhale, “Christ. You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I know, quite romantic, isn't it?”

He laughs, that intoxicating sound that could have fooled you for a siren, “Death by your hand. Put it on my gravestone.”

You two laugh at the thought for a minute, but when the laughter subsided, you’ve come back to the realization his hand still held yours. It felt nice, right, even, like that's where it should always belong. Or maybe it was just the prior drinks you took a short while ago finally catching up and making you crazy. Either way. His hands were soft, a stark difference to the vast amount of guitarists you’ve met with rougher hands. They were also long and slender, cuppings yours with no problem. He must’ve noticed you staring as he switched the hand that held the cigarette to the other. With his now open left hand, it found its way to your waist, tugging you only soft enough to get the message to you. You happily oblige to his unspoken ask. You stood up slowly, taking a step or two before reaching Andrew's chair and then straddling him beneath you, his hand hadn’t left your waist for a second. Even sitting down he was still taller than you.

“You look divine like this, my love. As close to me as can be. Away from the rest of the folks.” He grins that stupid smile you fell in love with long ago. You shake your head at that, leaning in to kiss him. He happily leans towards to meet you halfway. “I love being alone with you. I love you.” He pulls away and buries himself in the crook of your neck.

“I love you too Andrew. And I love being alone with you as well.” You take a hit of the cigarette you stole from Andy’s right hand. You don’t know how long you stayed in that position for. How long the soft shake of the trees and the quiet of your heart beating played a soundtrack fond to Andrew. He could die, then and there, and he would not care if heaven and hell existed afterwards, because he’d already experienced something greater than heaven— you. The sound of your voice had pulled him out of his thoughts like new music to his worn ears, “Andrew. Your stomach was rumbling.” Oh. When had it done that? He wonders. “Here. The brownies I made for you.”

He smiles and thanks you before immediately eating the plate full. Had he been this hungry and hadn’t known it? Oops. Guess he was too distracted by you. You took the last hits of the cigarette as it reached its end, putting it down on the ashtray, returning back to watch Andrew finish the brownies. You place your hand against his cheek and rub the crumbs off the corners of his mouth. His eyes turn soft with a small pleading look on them as your thumb stayed still on his lip. Placing a delicate kiss on your thumb, "Kiss me, please baby?"

You giggle, happily agreeing and leaning in to kiss him. The grip he had on you tightened. Even more when you went to pull away, “As much as I love being alone with you, Alex threatened to leave if he wasn't reattached to you.” You place a small pecks on the corners of his lips. He smiles at what you had said and done, loosening his grip just a bit,

“Can you promise me I have you the rest of the night?” He burrows his head back into your neck.

“I promise you I won’t leave your side.” You reassure him as your hands play with the curls of his hair.

You hadn't thought it was possible, but he had melted more into you, "Thank you for everything you do for me, Y/N" He murmurs softly into the skin of where your neck and collarbone met.

"You know you don't have to thank me for anything, Andy." He starts to slowly rock you both from the left to right, his arms around your waist, tight to make sure you don't loose balance and fall. And because he wanted to be in the comfort of your arms for longer, milking the feeling as much as possible.

"No. I'll spend the rest of our lives thanking you for everything you do. I'll love you for anything and everything." He finally leaves the comfort of your neck, pulling you in to kiss you again. You could feel him pour every emotion out to you in that minute.

You understood him. He understood you. That’s how well you two worked, words left unspoken could be heard, and words that were let out were messages received, no matter the phrasing. He wasn’t too happy about rejoining the crowd, but that didn’t matter, not when you kissed him so softly as a promise to what you had said earlier, and especially not when his hand was holding yours. He couldn’t care less as to where he was as long as it was next to you. Though he much preferred being alone with you.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Hope you guys enjoyed !! Please lmk what you think ☻

Also inspired by this version of To Be Alone ^^

[rockrosethistle]

A list of Nightmare Time episode ideas that I thought of and I think would be cool:

1.) Mr. Chasity has been trying to sell the old Waylon Place for far too long. After trying and failing over and over, he decides to take matters into his own hands by going in himself to see what all the fuss is about. But nothing could have prepared him to meet the real ghosts of Waylon Hall. And boy oh boy do they have shenanigans in store. (The episode would be called 'Unholy Ghost') .

2.) It's been a few months since Hatchetfield was destroyed in that awful 'accident'. Emma and Paul have been living under the aliases Kelly and Ben Bridges. (there can be a joke where Emma doesn't even pretend to care about her alias and Paul cares too much.) They live in Colorado now. Emma's finally started her pot farm, and Paul is working in marketing. For the most part, they have a good life. Only Paul's acting a bit different lately. Emma caught him humming company jingles, tapping his foot to a beat she can't hear. Maybe those spores he inhaled had some effect on him. It's probably nothing, but he's never sung in the shower before...(I don't have a name for this one yet.) .

3.) Max Jägerman is failing remedial algebra. In fact, he's doing so poorly that his dad shells out and hires him a tutor, PJ. (Bryce's nerd from 'Literal Monster.) He reluctantly lets her help him. At first it seems to work and his grades are rising steadily, but as PJ lets her guard down, Max starts to notice some things. Strange symbols scribbled in the margins of her notebook, almost like...jagged smiles? Weird stains on her hands, when she gets too close she smells like roadkill. And there's this white spider that keeps showing up in his room. Sometimes he feels like it's trying to tell him something. Or warn him. Without knowing what he's gotten himself into, Max has to evade getting his soul swallowed by a hungry god of darkness. (The episode is called 'Dirty Dude Soup') .

4.) Charlotte Sweetly is jealous. Her church friend, Carol Davidson, has exactly the kind of life she wants. Charlotte's seen the way her boss talks about his wife, and would give anything for Sam to feel that way about her. One day, Charlotte finally gathers her courage and asks her how she does it. Carol takes pity on her, and decides to reveal an important secret: it's all the product of a ritual, an ancient spell she stumbled upon on a trip to an amusement park. She claims that ever since she did it, her husband can't get enough of her. "I am all he sees. He calls me the apple of his eye." Charlotte doesn't believe her at first, but Carol gave her the instructions, and why the hell not? She tries it. Unfortunately, Charlotte messes up the wording. The spell still works, but not quite as intended. And an all-seeing police officer could be a good thing, but Sam is not a good police officer. (maybe let's call this one 'Omnipocop'. But that's awful to spell so suggestions are welcome) .

5.) While trying to be an assistant, Steph accidentally botches one of Pete's science projects. He forgives her, but she still feels bad even as he assures her it's no big deal, throwing the mix of chemicals out his window just to prove it. What he doesn't know is that the last family that lived in the Spankoffski house buried their dog in the backyard, and Pete's chemical slurry just brought it back to life. On a probably unrelated note, Paul has been trying to ignore the damage he's finding in his apartment. He's been chalking most of the tipped over garbage cans and torn apart cushion up to rats--giant rats?--or maybe a squirrel. But when a decades-old "missing dog" poster shows up on his doorstep, he can't ignore the truth for any longer. (the episode would be called "Patches' Revenge" and I thing it would work because it's just the right amount of weird. It would end with Paul teaming up with the nerds to defeat undead Patches with science.) .

6.) To his utter delight, Miss Holloway finally agreed to go out with Duke on a proper date. Nothing huge, just some ice cream and a walk on the beach. They're both enjoying themselves when Miss Holloway hears something. Duke can't hear it, but he still follows her down the shore to some kind of cave grotto, where she claims the noise is coming from. She tosses a pebble into the water, testing how it might react. A few moments later, the pebble come flying out again. Duke is stunned, but Miss Holloway tosses her ice cream cone. Sure enough, a few moments later is comes flying back, perfectly dry. They've clearly discovered something, and over the next few days, Duke and Miss Holloway experiment and try to learn about the grotto and the water in it. It's too deep to see the bottom, so their tests mostly involve tossing different things to see how they'll react. Little do they know, there was a reason Miss Holloway could hear a noise coming from the cave. There's a reason it drew her in, too. There's something singing to her, something that lives at the bottom of the grotto. And with each thing they feed it, it becomes a little bit stronger...(and then it's called something unassuming like "Wavecrest Cave")

So that's Nightmare Time season four all lined up. Please tell me if you have a good name idea for episodes 2 and 4. Also if anyone wants to use these as writing prompts, be my guest (just tag me so I can read them)

[stellabk]

FVRY OF THE FIRE

Part IV

Author’s note - Hi! So, I thought I posted part 4 last night after work, and I looked and it was gone. Not just form tumblr, but also my google docs so I had a heart attack. I cried since I had to rewrite it, but this one turned out better than the original in my opinion, so I hope you like it!

Summary - No amount of delaying could push the wedding off any longer. Deianira is forced to marry the tyrant that her father has sent her and her sister to bring down, yet she seems to grow a small soft spot for him.

Warning(s) - blood, violence, a bit of sexual abuse, public displays of affection; of you see any grammar mistakes or missed warnings please let me know!

Deianira’s eyes fluttered open as the sun shone through the curtains that billowed above the balcony. She smiled at the feeling of the sun warming her cheeks and the chill the gentle breeze brought. It would have been a day she would’ve loved to enjoy if it weren’t for the harsh realization that she was to be married today. Her smile faded as it weighed her down, making her groan as she threw her feet from off the side of the plush bed.

“Good morning, your grace. Today is the day!” Aelia entered with a tray of fresh fruits and bread that still steamed from its warmth. Aelia handed her an apple from the tray, smiling at the way her mistress scrunched her nose in distaste at her statement. “I know it’s not ideal, but I’m selfishly glad that you are stuck with me, ma’am.”

”There is no other woman who I enjoy being trapped in a grand palace with.”

Deia had spent all morning with Aelia and a few other maidservants, first getting scrubbed and polished in the bathhouse like a priceless artifact, emerging smelling of apple blossoms and pomegranate. They lined her eyes with kohl, rouged her cheeks a delicate cherry color, glossed her nails, and adorned her with jewels and finery from the top of her head to her toes. She looked like a proper empress now with all of the embellishments, not able to take her eyes off the new mirror that had been brought in while she bathed. The sight of herself made her forget just how miserable she felt only moments ago.

“They will be expecting you at the temple, empress. Come,” Aelia motioned for the future empress to follow as they delicately bounced through the halls, smiling and laughing.

In front of the temple, Deia’s sinking feeling returned as she stood on the other side of the doors, knowing just what awaited her on the other side.

“Lia, dear, how many people would you say are inside?”

”The whole court of important politicians and close friends of the emperors, I’m sure, but do not fret. Just look to your future husband and all shall turn out right.”

’If that doesn’t work, your sister is sure to be close to Caracalla; look at her and she shall erase all tension you feel,” another servant chimed in.

Deia faced the door once more, shimmying her feet further back into her sandals, and took one last deep breath before the door opened before her. The people stood and stared at her in awe, looking as if a true goddess had stepped in their midst. Deia forced her heavy lead feet forward, pushing herself to where Emperor Geta stood waiting for her. He had a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He seemed exhausted. She shook the thought from her head, instead opting for focusing on the floor. She couldn’t look at her sister or she would cry, knowing that there was no escape for either of them.

She grew closer and closer to the end of the aisle, her steps growing heavier with every pace she made. She stopped in front of the two stairs that kept her from Geta, a hand with a ring on every finger outstretching into her line of vision. She looked up to see her future husband smiling at her, and she took the hand, breaking the invisible barrier that kept her from standing at his side.

The officiant stood in front of the both of them, rambling on about the Gods in a monotonous, bland tone that made Deia want to yawn. She glanced at Geta through her peripheral, noticing he no longer smiled and looked like he had been drinking. He smelled as if he’d been drinking too. She turned back to the officiant, bored out of her mind. He continued to drone on, the future empress tuning him out and looking at the grand statue of the God Mars looking down on them, helmet just showing his eyes and spear in his hand. She looked at him wondering why his eyes seemed to be so full of life unlike the other statues she had seen around the palace. A cough broke her concentration on the statue, snapping her attention back to the officiant.

“You may kiss your bride, emperor.”

The two of them faced each other, Geta’s superficial smile returning to his face, as he reached a shaky hand toward her cheek. He leaned in, placing a kiss on her lips ever so gently. He pulled away, releasing a sigh. The crowd cheered for the newlywed couple.

A banquet was held with the same people who were at the ceremony to celebrate the new union and empress, food and the best reserves of wine were laid out on a grand table. Deia walked around without her groom, examining the decoration and getting stopped by a few people to voice their congratulations. She looked toward the center of the table, a rhinoceros head with its meats delicately and morbidly served as if it were a common dish. She shuddered at the sight, swallowing the bile that raised in her throat at the sight. She took deep breaths as she made to exit the banquet hall and look over the railing down at the city below. It was beautiful this time of night, the stars sparkled in the sky as the chatter of men and women of the market packed up their valuables to go back to their homes.

”Lovely, isn’t it?”

Deia startled and turned around quickly, bracing herself on the railing to prevent her fall. Geta chuckled at the reaction as he grew closer and looked out over the city beside her. “I love coming up here when the city looks like this. You can hear every conversation below from here.”

”It is quite nice,” Deia looked at him, her back still resting against the edge of the railing. “Have you come to push me over and tell the court that your young bride has met her untimely demise?”

Geta laughed once again. “I actually came to make sure you were alright. It must have been something quite bad for a bride to leave her own wedding celebration.”

”It was,” she looked at her feet, Geta looking at her now with a twinge of anger that someone could have potentially ruined the party for his empress. “There was a rhinoceros’s head just lying on the table. I thought surely I would become ill.”

Geta let out the loudest, most genuine laugh as his head fell into the palm of his hand, Deia’s tension flying away as she allowed herself to laugh with him. Geta relaxed in the silence, watching as the moonlight made his bride's hair resemble cooling embers. He felt at peace as if all the voices screaming in his head had silences to stand in awe of her as well. His peace was broken as the door opened, a voice growing closer. He didn’t think, it was stupid to pull her in, yet he did. He pushed the sleeve of her shoulder down and sank his teeth in, the other hand flying to her mouth before she could yelp.

”Oh, brother. I didn't mean to interrupt time with your bride… at least defile her in your own chambers instead of the corridors, dog.”

Geta pulled his mouth from Deia’s shoulder, turning to his brother. “I wished for everyone to know she was mine, that is all.”

”Well, they requested you back in the banquet hall. They wish to make a toast soon.”

Caracalla shook his head with a smirk as he returned to the celebration. Geta turned back to his bride, a swift, sturdy hit landed to his gut. He slumped to his knees in slow motion, seeing that Deianira had kicked him, which made him smirk through a grimace.

”If you wanted me to come to my knees, wife, all you had to do was ask.”

She grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head so he could look at her face. “A mark for a mark. To think I almost enjoyed a sliver of time with you. Know this, it shall be the last for as long as I breathe. Goodnight, husband.”

She dropped the hold she had on his hair, storming off toward her room and leaving him alone in the darkened hall. He collected himself off the floor, hearing Caracalla beginning a toast in the hall as he stood against the cold stone wall to listen in, still holding his stomach where it ached. Caracalla quipped that Geta was supposed to make the toast to his bride, but had most likely disappeared to consummate the marriage. The crowd of mostly men had laughed heartily, but Geta felt a pain in his chest. He knew why he had bitten her, but he doubted she would stop to hear him out. Still, he had to try to explain himself. He ran down the hallway that his bride had run down, trying to catch up.

Deia slammed the door to her bedchambers, letting all of her anger explode in a loud scream that echoed through the room and shook nearby objects. She took off rings and threw them on tables, taking one of her sandals off and chucking it at the door. The shoe sailed through the air, and Geta entered, ducking just in time to narrowly evade the hurling sandal.

“Have you come to sink your teeth in again, your highness, or was one lashing not enough for you?”

Geta glanced at the sandal that had slipped through the crack in the door he had just come through, then back at Deianira. “I hope you plan to get that later on.”

Deia growled, taking off the other sandal, ready to throw the second one. Geta held his hands up in surrender. “I came to see if you would hear me out.”

”I will hear nothing from you after your vulgar display. Get out or I swear my aim will ring true with this sandal.”

“You have to be the most stubborn woman of akk I have ever met, have you ever been told that?”

Deia shrugged, still holding the sandal above her head. “Once or twice before. Now leave me to my peace.”

”I don’t think you know the definition of peace. You seem to be of the bloodline of Mars.”

”I knew peace until you and your tyrant brother forced me here. Just because you knew no fatherly love does not mean you had to rip me and my sister from ours!” She got in his face, spittle flying to his cheek. The blow had been delivered, an arrow right through Geta’s chest. He felt as if it were a real attack and that he would crumble in a bloody heap on the floor.

”I shall grant you the peace you want. Goodnight, empress.”

As he left, closing the door behind him, the second sandal was launched, colliding with the door as it closed. The thud shaking Geta to his core.

Geta entered his own bed chambers, his servant behind him.

”Are you sure, emperor? This seems to be quite extreme.”

”Quite sure. If the court were to find out, they would treat her cruelly. We must ensure she stays in good graces. If you tell a soul, you shall be thrown in the Coliseum before first light, understood?”

The man watched the emperor as he sat on the bed with the small knife in his hand, holding the handle out to the servant. The servant nodded, taking the blade, and cut a small incision on the emperor’s thigh. Geta hissed, but bit it back as the crimson flowed and made a small pool on the white bed linens. He nodded, satisfied by the result, as the servant began to cleanse his leg. Though satisfied, Geta only stared into the red stain with a grim expression, his thoughts only echoing one thing: she will be safe now.