#also was the bra one too much? i swear to GOD she even looked like mei qi

[chuunai]

Henlo I have something to add to the 100 followers event if that’s cool

Dazai with scenario 2 and prompt 16. Idk how these things traditionally go but…. Your stuff seems good so far and I’m excited to see what you do with this

Thank you thank you, Anon. Also sorry for how long this took everyone I swear I’m combing through the requests 3_3

✧˚ · . dad first, detective second - dazai osamu

who would’ve imagined the demon prodigy having a hellion of his own?

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), SFW → baby baby baby, Dazai really likes your boobs, etc.

It’s a perfect night, really.

Your warm body resting against his, limbs lazily tossed over each other as you snuggled and acted like lovesick fools. Moonlight poured in from the cracks of the curtains, casting small slivers on your face. Dazai couldn’t help but think of an angel when it came to you. A heavenly being that granted him a new life and forgave him for his past.

Nudging at your cheek with his nose, his voice came out in a sleepy tone.

“You should sleep, [name].”

His hand reached up to cup your face, playfully using his thumbs to gently close your eyelids like one would do with a body. He’d seen many people in the Mafia do that—try and make the deaths they caused seem more peaceful rather than a brutal end. Dazai himself never did that. No need in beautifying a simple concept of its finality and simplicity.

“Can’t. I know she’s about to wake up. It’s nearly eleven, and we put her to sleep at seven. I can tell.”

You shook your head stubbornly, looking at the baby monitor nearby where static noise and the occasional mix of a tiny snore and coo came from.

His little hellion.

Really, he had no clue how he got so lucky. First with the fact that he impregnated you and you carried his baby. Second with the fact that he had his own family now. And third with the fact she looked so much like him. Thick brown curls of hair on her head, big curious eyes that looked at him so adoringly. The tiny freckles and birthmarks scattered across her skin. She had some of your features, yes, but they were more subtle than his features.

Coupled with the fact that she was a bundle of energy and sass like him.

“I insist, pretty. Shinju needs her daddy too.”

He knew how much she made you tired with her habit for refusing to nap for more than an hour or two coupled with breastfeeding and the general responsibility and time that being a mom took. Dazai wanted to spend time with his daughter too and relieve your stress. You’d get sleep, he’d get to see Shinju. Win-win, in all accounts.

Hell, he even gave you puppy eyes in the darkness of your room.

“I…fine. But don’t wake me up if you screw up.”

Dramatically, he sighed and frowned, placing a hand on his heart.

“Does my ‘bella really think I’m an incompetent father? How heartbreaking and cruel of her!”

Much to his relief, you playfully groaned, pinching his sides lightly.

“I didn’t say that, dummy. God, I swear Shinju is more mature than you.”

Jesus, you were so insulting tonight. How was the baby that tried to put anything she could in her mouth more mature than him? Sure, he was a bit funny and childish, but he wasn’t a baby. Well, if he had his face buried in your boobs he’d be a baby. Still, it’s not his fault that they’re just so big and warm and squishy and seem to beg for his attention.

Which is what he soon did, resting his head on your chest while cupping them softly. You were wearing one of his shirts and a nursing bra underneath. He wished you weren’t wearing anything at all, but it wasn’t fair to ask for that when you recently gave birth just a mere two months ago. His libido lowered itself only for you. And when you did have sex—quickies when Shinju would nap—, he was so much nicer and loving than usual. The mother of his child didn’t deserve rough mean sex, no, she deserved gentle treatment under the sheets of their futon.

You deserved everything that he could possibly give you.

So when the small baby demon eventually began to wake up and whimper, he pressed a kiss onto your cheek and slowly got up, whistling a small tune under his breath before waking to the makeshift nursery nearby.

Opening the door slowly, he made his way to the crib and picked up his sniffling newborn, shushing her comfortingly.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Daddy’s here. We don’t want to wake up mama, okay?”

Her tiny hands balled up into fists, weakly moving around and occasionally hitting his chest. Sitting down on the rocking chair nearby, he fumbled around for one of her stuffed animals, grabbing the familiar bunny as he placed it in her arms.

“Look there, Shinju. It’s your bunny!”

From an authoritative Mafia executive to a tired loving father. Lord, Chuuya would be laughing his ass off. Or have that stupid face of confusion while he’d berate Dazai with questions about what unlucky woman had to bear his spawn. But what could that short alcoholic of a ginger say? No woman wanted to birth his babies.

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when Shinju’s tiny fingers began to grab at his chest, thinking he could feed her too. He could, just not straight from the source unlike you. Standing up, he went over to the mini-fridge nearby which contained bottles of your milk. It wasn’t too chilly, and so he carried it and the cooing baby to the kitchen where he warmed it up in the microwave.

After it warmed up, he carefully began to feed her, leaning back against the counter as he did so.

It still felt so odd to him. Caring and loving someone he helped to create. His self from ten years ago would never believe it—that they’d find love and even have a baby after escaping the Mafia. He had you to thank for that. The one who picked up the discarded pieces of his soul and welded it into the man he is today—a father first, and a detective second.

Kinda rushed the end but I couldn’t think of anything more :(

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

[zombieunicorngamerzu]

(Warnings - Pre-crash GIP Lottie Matthews x fem reader, Lottie and reader never really liking each other until they meet in the locker room after a fight on the field and fuck, Enemies to Lovers)

“Your so fucking full of yourself, princess!” You spat out at her, in the lockeroom after ANOTHER day of bashing each other on the field, you two were sent off the field early due to a dispute between you two.

Lottie only scoffed and rolled her eyes, her arms crossed as she leans back against a wall, “I don’t understand why you have to act like such a bitch to me, what did I even do to you?”

You just let out a aggressive breath, rolling your eyes as you swung open your locker, blood hot and just angry, practically tearing off your shirt to change as you spoke, unaware of Lottie’s eyes widening and her quickening heartbeat, a blush coating her cheeks as she got a sight of your beautiful back, seeing your breasts pushed up with the bra your wearing in the mirror behind you, her trying to hold back a whimper when she feels herself getting hard way too quick (Thank God for compression shorts) she thought to herself.

“You think your so much better than everybody else, you are your fucking daddy’s money, your always staring at me, always fucking judging!” You yelled out at her as you pulled down your shorts, only making Lottie swallow and blink quicker, her just shivering and squirming from how hard her cock is straining against her compression shorts, god she wants to grab her cock so bad.

But then you’ll know, and she’s terrified of people knowing, especially you, you already hate her, Lottie doesn’t want to know what you’d do if you found out she’s thinking about all the ways she wants to pin you to that locker and fuck you so deep, to worship your body, to finally break you, to just have you stop hating her. If Lottie could ever just get one vulnerable moment with you where you don’t hate her, she swears she’d die happy. (She may have a slight crush and also kinda likes seeing you pent up and angry)

“Look, I’m not trying to seem judgy or snobby or whatever.” Lottie pleads desperately as she watches you get dressed, stepping closer to you as she holds out her hand.

“Yeah right, Matthews, I bet you fucking judge everyone who isn’t born from Daddy’s money, I work every fucking day after school until midnight, I work and work and work because my shitty parents like to steal money from me and not pay the bills and I have to fucking eat and on top of that, I have to worry about school and this team, soccer is my only chance at getting into a college on a scholarship, so stop fucking this up for me.” You rushed out with such a desperate tone through your anger as you swung around without realizing how close Lottie had gotten, she was towering over you, looking down at you, god you hated that, it made you feel small.

Lottie had this furrowed look on her face, pity. You hated that look more than when she would judge you, more than when she’s angry at you, more than her, god you felt so vulnerable you were fucking trembling with hatred and emotions, resulting to shoving Lottie hard, making her grunt but stay in her place due to her height and being stronger and sturdier than you.

“Fuck you, Matthews! Fuck you and your money, fuck you and your friends, fuck you and your pretty stupid face, just FUCK YOU!” You screamed out as you kept shoving her repeatedly until Lottie just kinda grabbed you and pulled you impossibly close while you thrashed into the tightest hug possible, you fought her, but she was stronger,

“Shhh, Shhh, I’m sorry, hey- I’m sorry okay, I’m sorry…” Lottie cooed out as she held you against her while you growled like some animal to get free, her resting her chin ontop of your head, resilient to hold you until you calmed, which slowly happened as you got exhausted, slumping into her, panting so heavy.

Lottie was more ashamed of her hard-on now more than ever, she shouldn’t be hard while your crying and making such noises, but she literally couldn’t help it. You were just sniffling now, letting out these cute adorable noises that made her cock twitch and Lottie’s heart flutter with protection and care for you* “Are you okay?” She asked gently as you nodded with a sniffle, “yeah, just- let me go…” you whimpered out with a broken tone and a sniffle while leaning back slightly, noticing how close Lotties face was to yours, only her expression this time was gentle, you were shocked when Lottie suddenly leaned in and kissed you so tenderly, her hands still on your back.

You just kinda froze for a moment with confusion and conflicted feelings, your supposed to hate Lottie, but with the feeling of her lips on yours, how gently she’s kissing you, it just made you give up and melt into her touch, making Lottie sigh out with a smile of happiness as she wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you flush against her, what you weren’t prepared for as to feel her having a bulge, a… bulge… a very prominent, big bulge.

“Lottie…” You tried to speak but Lottie was already tugging you over to a bench, pulling you into her lap, your clothed core pressing right against what you know now is definitely a cock, making your eyes widen as you lifted your eyes to meet Lotties vulnerable ones* “I-I know you hate me and you probably think I’m disgusting, but I just- i-i care about you, so please can we just have this moment and then you can go back to hating me if you want after?” She begged, Lotties eyes we’re teary and her hips jerked with you in her lap, making the both of you shiver as she felt you buck down in her lap in result.

“Fine.” You just sighed out, you honestly were a super accepting person, you had no intention of ever telling anyone about this even if you did “hate” Lottie, you weren’t evil or a bitch, you just had emotional regulation problems. Sighing softly as you leant in for another kiss, this time taking control as you ground down on her clothes cock with a wiggle, making Lottie choke on a surprised gasp as you slid your hand under her team shorts, smiling once you felt just how hard she was, she was throbbing as you pulled her out of her shorts, her cock sprung up so eagerly, wet with precum, “Jeez, you like me that much?” You tried to joke and tease but your words only made Lottie whimper and nod quickly, “Y-Yes, so much, please…” she was already begging, you were surprised with how sensitive she was, making your eyes widen,

“Wait- Lottie, a-are you a virgin?” You asked the question that made Lottie freeze and her eyes widen, a heavy blush of embarrassment coating her cheeks as her lip quivered, looking down with a nod, “I’m sorry, you probably think I’m some pathetic creep now and I promise I’m not- I really care-“

“Lottie stop it.” You just shook your head and kissed her again, you didn’t like her actually talking bad about herself, the truth is you hated her because you thought she was perfect, your hand gently sliding down the base of Lotties cock while she shivered and moaned so desperately into your mouth, you had to trap her thighs down with yours just to keep her from bucking, Lottie spitting out so many apologies every time she bucked or whined, or whimpered. To be honest, you thought she was adorable, it almost made you smile.

Peppering kisses to Lotties neck as she witnessed for the first time you being gentle with her, she was surprised that you, the fiery-hotheaded, always quiet and broody you was being so kind to her, so gentle, it only just made her thighs shake and her cock throb, but then you spoke,

“That’s it, good girl Lot, your doing so good for me…” You whispered out just to soothe her when you saw how tears were spilling down her face, but as soon as you said those words, Lottie let out a sharp cry, accidentally spurting cum up and all over your hand and wrist as she bucked and babbled our apologies, “Agh- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” She looked so terrified youd be disgusted or angry with her as she came, only making you shake your head with a gentle look, rubbing her thigh, “Lottie, baby, hey, it’s okay, it’s normal.”

What you called her made her heart flutter, Lottie was so surprised and so excited from how gentle and kind you were being, panting heavily as she squirmed on the bench, she grew hard again basically right after cumming, only making you chuckle, “Oh pretty girl, I’m not that attractive, am I?”

Lottie just whined and nodded, “You are, you really are, I’ve liked you for such a long time but you’ve hated me and I’ve just been trying so hard to get you to like me and nothings worked and-“ You had to cut Lottie off again before she started crying more, shaking your head before you were standing up to undo your jeans, pulling them off.

Lottie just watched with nothing but wide eyes and excitement but also fear, she’d never felt the inside of a girl before, she hadn’t ever had a partner until now and it seemed like a miracle to have you.

“Wait- your not disgusted by me, you actually want to do this?” Lottie asked you as she watched you get naked, she was so surprised and in disbelief you wanted her, but all of her questions were answered when you climbed back into your lap and kissed her roughly before leaning back, hovering right over her throbbing cock* “No Lottie, I’m not disgusted, your gorgeous, pretty, and literally perfect, and- whatever.” You rolled your eyes before grabbing Lotties cock and positioning it at your wet folds, getting her tip wet which made Lottie whimper at the sensation. “N-no, tell me what you were gonna say.”

You just sighed and rolled your eyes before Lottie slid her hands up your waist, making your expression soften as you looked into her eyes, “I-“ you closed your eyes for a long moment before just spitting out, “I like you too, now fuck me so I don’t have to keep looking into your stupid puppy dog eyes.” You huffed, you hated feeling vulnerable or nice feelings, and Lottie was making you feel all of them.

She smiled so bright at your words, practically letting out a happy squeal as she wrapped her arms around you tight in a hug before kissing your cheek and pulling on your thighs to get you closer as she gained a little confidence to start to push in, the way you gasped as she did it, almost made her cum right then and there, but she had to hold it this time, raising her hips with a little grunt as her tip breached inside you, Lottie swore this feeling was the best feeling in the world until you actually helped her by sinking down on her, making her moan so deep and raspy, your moan following.

“O-oh my god… oh my god… OH- my god-“ Lottie couldn’t stop whimpering, almost sobbing again from how tight and wet and just warm you felt, she was shaking and sweating, her brows furrowed as she tried to adjust to this new sensation, it was so hard not to cum right there, she just let out a sob and hugged you, making you smile and kiss her cheek, your arms wrapped around her neck as you slowly rolled your hips, making Lottie cry in your ear as she bucked and started to tremble and squirm so rapidly, her arms hugging you tighter as she squealed and bucked sloppy a few times, accidentally cumming inside you as she humped up and shoved her cock in as deep as she could, you felt so good, she was so pussy drunk she just picked you up as you gasped and pushed you back to hold you up against a locker, your legs around her waist as she started to thrust so rough and sloppy, kissing you deeply as she panted and moaned against your lips, “Oh god, oh god- you feel so good, you feel so good- agh!”

Lottie was full on sobbing as she fucked you against the lockers, your eyes were rolling back as you moaned and were almost sobbing with her at how good she felt, your reactions only made Lottie go rougher, but she tried to slow it down to make you more comfortable, she didn’t wanna hurt you, her eyes locking down with your dripping pussy swallowing her girthy cock, her veins were throbbing to shoot another load in you again, but watching how your cum spilled out around her cock to drip on the floor and make a mess, Lottie was mesmerized, pushing all the way in before meeting your eyes and moaning, “you are so fucking pretty… please, I’m gonna cum in you again- and- and your gonna- agh- be my girlfriend and I’m gonna- Ohh fuck, I’m gonna take care of you, your shitty parents d-don’t deserve you, I-I do!” Lottie growled out as she started to thrust faster, your back was kinda hurting from the locker behind you but you were so distracted by Lotties sudden possessiveness and the way she growled, the way her cock was stretching your walls as you felt your orgasm start to crash into you, your back arching as you cried out for her, her hands going to your back to cradle you against her as she sloppily thrusted her cock up to the balls inside you, the both of you moaning out as she came inside you, stumbling back to the bench to sit down with you in her lap, the both of you sweaty and panting as she held you like your lives depended on it.

“Jesus…” Lottie breathed out, making you groan out against her shoulder, “I don’t think Jesus is anywhere near this room.” That remark got a breathless bark of laughter from Lottie as she rubbed your back and held you close, kissing your cheek with a nod and a smile. “Yeah, your probably right.”

[talkdutchtome]

You Should Have Said No Chapter Five- Shake It Off 

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / pierre gasly x reader )

summary . . . when your fiancé cheats on you, you strike up an unusual friendship with one of his closest friends, who just so happens to have had a crush on you since he set eyes on you. chaos ensues.

inspired by the works of miss taylor swift )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . shake it off- taylor swift)

warning . . . cheating, mental illness, angst, eventual smut, poorly translated french and dutch, swearing, mention of parent loss, emotionally abusive parent, slight social media au, kendall jenner as fc (potentially more i’ll add as i go along)

series masterlist . . . available here )

“Literally everyone does it Y/N, it’s a rite of passage after a breakup” Lila stresses at you, waving a pair of scissors in front of your face. She wants to cut your hair, claiming that it would help you forget about Pierre. Truth be told, you’re not even sure that you want to forget about Pierre, though you’d die before admitting that to Lila, who may kill you herself if you dared let those words pass through your lips. Whilst Lila worked on the West End theater scene in London now, she had spent years working on much smaller theater scenes so she had learned to cut hair so that her and her colleagues didn’t have to spend a good chunk of their small paycheck on their hair; so you knew that she definitely could cut your hair you just weren’t sure you wanted it cut. Pierre had once told you when you were 18 that he liked your hair long so naturally, you kept your hair that long ever since. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Pierre wouldn’t have had an issue if you did cut your hair, realistically he may not even remember that he told you he liked your hair long, but you remembered so you always kept your chocolate brown hair at the length it was when he said it. “Okay fine, just do it” you relented, sitting in front of her to allow her to begin to work on your hair.  

After she had finished, she put a mirror in front of your face, enabling you to see your now shoulder length hair and as much as admitting she was right was painful for you; you had to admit not only did you look good but you also felt a freeing sense, like you were finally accepting that life was going to be different now, and maybe that’s okay. “It’s lovely, thank you Lila��  

“Right okay time for outfits, I’m not sure what you’re wearing to the race yet but I know exactly want I want you to wear for the after party; you need to go full Princess Diana” The words that came out of her mouth made you laugh but you quickly realized that she was completely serious. “Okay what the hell do you mean by ‘full Princess Diana’, also you do know you’re not my personal stylist righy?” 

“Oh, come on you know! The revenge dress!”  

“My god you’ve lived in London for too long” You laughed at her but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, there was every chance Pierre could come to this party and you were only human after all, you couldn’t help wanting to realize what he’s missing out on. Whilst you were weighing up your options regarding your evening wear, Lila had moved onto looking through her suitcase trying to find something for you to wear. “Now this is perfect!” hearing your best friend’s words made you look up to the outfit she was referring to. In her hands she held up a pair of light wash ripped boyfriend jeans and a black top that was really more of a bra than a top. Opening up your mouth to tell her no, you caugh sight of her face looking at you with pleading eyes and pouted lips. “Okay fine, give it here”  

“Ohhh and this too?” she throws Max’s jacket at you, resulting in her receiving a death stare from you “Nope. Too far Lils” you told her trying to be serious but failing once she fell into fits of giggles, causing you to laugh like a mad man too.  

“Uhh Y/N, have you been on Instagram lately?” Lila questioned with a worried tone in her voice, before you could answer her question, she had turned around her phone and showed you the post that she clearly thought you needed to see. Your eyes focused on the image in front of you and you quickly snatched the phone out of her hand to have a look. The fact that there were paparazzi as you got off Max’s private jet a few days ago had completely slipped your mind after a very stressful few days. “Oh fuck” you cursed at yourself, you didn’t even think how it looked for a driver's fiancée to be flying on a plane alone with a bunch of other drivers, but clearly the fans following the infamous F1 gossip page did. Reading through the comments, you saw countless people calling you a slut, alleging that you were sleeping with one of the drivers that you were pictured with, people worried and upset for Pierre; pretty much any derogatory word under the sun was used to describe your behavior. Just for a second you felt a flash of guilt, knowing that Pierre is defiantly going to see the post, but it quickly dawned on you that you shouldn’t have to feel guilty for having friends or for spending time with people who were looking after you after finding out that your finance had cheated on you. After the guilt subsided, anger took its place. How dare they criticize you for having friends, for daring to even be in the presence of men whilst Pierre could literally fuck another woman and there wasn’t a post about that, there wasn’t cameras in the club when Pierre actually did what people are accusing you of. 

“You just need to ignore it Y/N, it’s not fair of course it isn’t but it’s also not important, just follow the advice of Taylor Swift and Shake it off” Lila spoke, knowing what was going through your head.  

“Oh I was actually meant to say, have you spoken to Charles since everything happened?” she asked you, trying to change the topic of conversation as she could tell the gossip post.  

“No actually, he messaged me literally the day after it happened as Pierre went to his house when I kicked him out but since then I haven’t heard anything since. Though he did phone you so I guess.” you told her and she scoffed, clearly not happy with that answer. “That’s really shitty of him, he’s been your friend for almost 15 years and all he can manage is one text. Though it doesn’t surprise me, he always was a dick.” her words made you laugh but you couldn’t help but agree with what she said, you had known Charles for almost as long as he knew Pierre and you were always close so you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you that he hadn’t reached out since that first day. “Oh come on be fair Lila, he was a bit of a dick when we were 15 but he’s changed since then, he’s a good guy” you told her but she just scoffed again, clearly not ready to accept that he wasn’t the same Charles that broke her heart 12 years age. 

Much to Lila’s dismay, upon your arrival at the track ready for the race, you were called into a meeting, leaving her alone for an hour, desperately searching for some entertainment, she ended up stumbling into Pierre. Whilst she tried to avoid his gaze and get away without speaking to him, she had no such luck. “Ugh what do you want?” she had asked him clearly pissed off that he wouldn’t let her slip away without having to acknowledge his presence. “Please just listen, I really need your advice” Pierre told the girl in front of him who rolled her eyes but gestured for him to continue. “I just don’t know what to do, I love Y/N so much and I know I fucked up, I really fucked up but I don’t want to live without her and every time I try to speak to her, I just seem to make it worse” his words caused Lila to laugh, earning her a death glare. “Look if she’s got any sense, she’ll never take you back, but I’ll tell you this; if she’ll ever be ready to take you back, she needs to heal first. Every time she sees you her heart breaks more and soon enough it’ll be broken beyond the point of no return. So, if you love her or ever did, you need to leave her alone, at least for a while” Lila told him, causing him to stand deeply in thought for a minute before speaking up again. “But what if I leave her alone to heal and she ends up falling for Max?” he asked her, with tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. “I’m going to be brutally honest with you Pierre, would that really be such a bad thing? You and I both know what a hard life she’s had, doesn’t she deserve love from someone who will never hurt her? Who will never make her look in the mirror and wonder what is wrong with her that the person who is supposed to love her went and slept with another woman.” Lila told him before turning around and walking away before he had a chance to respond.  

Eventually the race started, and you were sat in Red Bull garage hospitality with Lila, things were going well for the first 15 laps until there was a crash that made your heart sink. Pierre had collided with Geroge Russell sending them both spinning. Before you even had the chance to think about the consequences, you were on your feet and running to the Alpine garage. In that moment nothing else mattered other than finding out if Pierre was safe, everything else was forgotten. In the time it took you to reach the garage, Pierre had come back and other than sporting a bit of a limp, he seemed fine; that was until he saw you and it looked like he was going to cry. Both of you were acutely aware of the fact that were countless engineers surrounding you who had no idea what was going on between the two of you; they were used to you being sat in the garage all weekend but this time you were nowhere to be found until right now when you ran in frantically. It was quite the picture, you both standing opposite each other, him trying not to cry and you trying to catch your breath, partly from the running but also from the creeping anxiety that sat in your stomach.  

Eventually realizing that you weren’t going to say anything whilst surrounded by everyone, Pierre told the medic charged with checking him out that he was going into his driver's room to get his withings before they took him away to the medical center to be checked. As he walked, he gestured for you to follow him, so you did. “Are you okay? That looked really bad. I was so worried oh my god are you okay?” You rambled at him, not even giving him a chance to answer your questions. You were spiraling and he knew it, even though you could now see that he was okay, the initial fear you felt was the straw that broke the camel's back and every emotion that you had shoved down for the past week was making itself known. Pierre could see that you were shaking and crying, so on instinct he wrapped his arms around you, so tightly that it hurt because he knew you and he knew that’s what you needed when you got like this. “Shh baby it’s okay I’m okay. I know it was scary but I’m okay” He soothed you and stood with you in his arms until your breathing calmed down and you pulled away from him. “I’m sorry for coming here Pierre, I just needed to know that you were okay” you told him before turning to walk away from him, once the anxiety had subsided you realized that coming here wasn’t the best thing to do, that letting him comfort you wasn’t really fair on either of you. Just as you reached the door handle you heard Pierre’s voice ask you the one question you really didn’t want him to ask- “Why did you come here?” You turned around to look at him, but you didn’t answer his question, how could you when you didn’t even know the answer yourself. “What is going on with you and Max?” He questions you again, upon realizing you weren't going to answer his first question. It’s the same thing he asked you days ago, but the way he asks is different now; there’s no venom in his voice, no taunting look in his eyes, there’s just sadness and a look of hopelessness. “He’s my friend. He’s really looked after me over this last week and I do really like him, but it’s not like that Pierre okay. He’s just a friend” you told him hesitantly, you’re aware that maybe it was best not to humor his question, but the anxiety attack you just had exhausted you and you truly did not have the energy to argue with him as to why it’s none of his business “He likes you Y/N, he always has” he told you. There were no words you could think of to say in response to him, so you just walked away.  

After your interaction with Pierre, you went back to the garage with Lila where you both watched Max win the race by 30 seconds. Immediately following the race Lila had to leave to catch her plane back to London, you both cried as she left, vowing to not leave it so long until the next time you see each other again. Despite all of this and how much you loved her, you cursed her name when you arrived back in your hotel room and saw the dress, she left for you to wear. It was a tan mini dress that clung to your body tightly and stopped way higher up your thighs than you ideally would have liked; to put it bluntly it was almost the exact opposite of something you would chose to wear but as it was the only option available, you had to accept that you would be out of your comfort zone and get ready for the party. Just as you were getting ready to head to the club you remembered the last words that Lila had said to you just before she left “Make sure you post on Instagram how hot you look just in case Pierre isn’t at the party, a revenge dress isn’t a revenge dress if the person doesn’t see it” you laughed at her words but did what she said anyway, knowing that she wouldn’t leave you alone until you relented anyway.  

The second you walked in the club, you caught sight of table that Max and everyone were sat at. Even though it was a Red Bull party Max did mention that others would be coming so you weren’t surprised to see Lando and Daniel sat alongside him. As soon as Max spotted you, he was up on his feet, making the short journey from his table to the bar where you stood. 

“Hey Max congratulations, such a good race.” You told him, smiling sincerely at him. “Y/N I’m so good you’re here! I was worried you weren’t going to come. What are you drinking?” The Dutchman asked you, smiling ear to ear, clearly on a high from his win. Usually, you didn’t drink much in clubs, often finding that it ends up making your anxieties worse, but you couldn’t help but feel that this was a night where you deserved to let go a little bit and actually get drunk for once. “Ohh maybe tequila?” you suggested earning yourself a cheeky grin from the man in front of you, who leant forward and ordered four shots of tequila from the bartender before calling Lando and Daniel over to give them their shots. As you stood at the bar with the three men taking your shots, you couldn’t help but think about the gossip post from earlier; you realized that as you were in a public club, anyone could easily take a photo of the four of you and use it to fuel more rumors. Part of you wanted to walk away from them, to not give people anymore ammunition to use against you, but the other part of you didn’t care what anyone else was going to do or say and just wanted to have a good time with your newly found friends. Deciding to listen to the part of you who just said ‘Fuck it let me have fun’ you ordered more shots and let yourself just enjoy the company you were in.  

After an hour or so passed, you could feel how tipsy you started to become and decided that you had probably drunk enough; that was until you saw Charles and Pierre walk into the club and immediately decided to buy and drink a lot more alcohol. You sat at the Red Bull table with Max and his friends for a while more until you saw that Pierre had left Charles sat by himself for a moment and with your decision-making skills inebriated, you decided to go and confront him.  

“Oh hey Y/N” Charles spoke as you walked towards him. “Don’t ‘hey y/n’ me Charles you’re such a dick” you told him perhaps a bit more aggressively than you had meant, slurring your speech whilst you were at it too. He just gave you a confused look. “I can’t believe I’ve barely heard from you Charles. I know you’re Pierres friend I get that, but you’re my friend too. I’ve known you for almost 15 years and all I get from you when my life literally falls apart is one text? I get you called Lila and I appreciate it, God knows I needed her here. But I also needed you. I’m not asking you to pick my side or drop Pierre, but it would have been nice to feel like you didn’t drop me.” You ranted at him, and he just looked at his feet, clearly ashamed at his behavior. “I know, I’m really sorry. I did want to reach out, but I just didn’t know how” he spoke, and you could tell that he did genuinely feel bad. You were going to say something else to him in response, but you suddenly saw Pierre approaching and decided that being around him in this state definitely was not the best idea. “I should go” you told Charles before turning to walk away. “I am really sorry Y/N, phone me when you get home to Monaco and we’ll arrange to do something” Charles called out after you just as Pierre rejoined him, earning him a funny look from his friend.  

The need to drink came back after that conversation with Charles so you grabbed another couple of shots for you and Max before walking back to the table, and after taking them all you wanted to do was dance. With Lila being gone, the next best person to dance with was Max so you grabbed his hands and dragged him onto the dance floor. This was completely out of character for you, with you usually being the quiet person sat in the corner at a club but despite that and despite the fact that you knew that Pierre was burning a hole in your back watching the two of you, you completely let yourself go and danced with Max. The dancing started fun, with the two of you jumping around to Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off (the irony was not missed on you even in your very drunk state), however after a while the copious amounts of alcohol you had drank started to catch up on you and Max eventually declared that you probably needed to head home and that he would acompany you to make sure that you got in safely.  

The journey in the uber was proabably around 30 minutes, although it didn’t at all feel like that. You spent the whole journey talking to Max about pretty much everything that came into your head, you told him about how you and Lila met Charles and Pierre and how the four of you became best friends, you told him about your love for Taylor Swift and your desperation for Eras Tour tickets, you even told him about the time you met Christan Horner’s wife Geri for the first time and completely embarrassed yourself by gushing over her and telling her how obsessed you were with the Spice Girls when you grew up. And the whole time he sat there and listened to you, he didn’t just listen to the important stuff you had to say like you often felt Pierre did, but he sat there and listened just the same when you were rambling on about something silly and insignificant. He was completely attentive, and it made you feel like you could tell him absolutely anything. He then walked you all the way up to your hotel door just so he knew that you were home and safe. “You looked so beautiful tonight Y/N” he told you but it looked like he regretted in straight away when you just looked at him unsure what to say back to him. “Goodnight, thank you for a good night” He spoke again before turning to leave. “Wait Max” you called after him and he turned around to ask you what it is you wanted but stopped when he felt your hands come up to the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. Your lips touched only for a second and your touch was so faint that Max could have thought that he had maybe imagined it if not for the riot of butterflies took flight in the depths of his stomach, their wings fluttering in harmony with the newfound spark that had ignited between the two of them. Before Max had a chance to say anything you closed the door on him before walking to the bed and flopping onto it. In spite of the amount that you had drank, you had never felt more sober than you did right now, in the aftermath of your first kiss with Max. You wanted to cry, you wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream, you wanted to run after Max and kiss him again but in the end all you do is just lay on your bed and attempt to follow the piece of advice that Lila had given you earlier in the day, you just shook it off and went to sleep.  

Taglist-

@hiraethrhapsody @ironmaiden1313 @dudenhaaa27 @aundercover @dearlovelys @bicchaan @eugene-emt-roe @faithm120601 @ruleroftheuniverse @idkiwantchocolatee @simxican @reidsworld @icarus-nex @barnestatic @amalialeclerc @stargaryenx @pjofics @girlintheredscarf @janeholt3 @lu-morningstar-2 @mycenterfold @be-your-coffee-pot @omarsiglia @lordperceval-16  

[pseudowho]

HIIIIIIIIIIII Haitch 🙂‍↕️

I’ve come to spam your inbox with my Sunday Love Letters & it’s about fucking time I stop pining from afar.

How is your novel going? Besides ruminating on the fact that you’re 5’11, this is the second Haitch Fact™️ that has me WRECKED. Like I need to know more. Where do you write? Home? Coffee shops? Do you have a schedule?

In my head you’re so sophisticated with this shit. Like I just know the you drink from a Tiffany’s Tea set or something with the classical music in the background at some fancy library that’s 500 stories high.

Mmk. love you. In the way that you have to kinda tilt your head to the side, and squint your eyes because…was she being platonic? (Spoiler: no).

💕Mr. Haitch if you see this respectfully no you didn’t💕

besos 💋

b.

Welcome to my Inbox 📥 No escape now, YOU FOOL! But Happy Sunday 💕😌☕

You'll be pleased to know that my height remains unchanged, but for my brother's wedding yesterday, I was a rather sultry 6ft2in in heels...until I kicked them off to walk barefoot, as nature intended.

r.e. the novel, it is going very well. I've been ill this week so haven't written much, but usually I write every evening once my diabolical children are asleep. In my soul, I am on a wonderful book/coffee shop, with my gold glasses chain, pencil skirt and turtleneck on, looking curvy and smart and sophisticated. And being glanced at by admiring strangers, etc etc.

These days however, I usually do it bra-less, in an oversized t-shirt and thong, swearing into my Shiraz and throwing debauchery at my long suffering husband. He listens to my rants and gives wonderful input and other stuff that's not appropriate to talk about here

When I write the novel...it's at a little old laptop in the evenings. Or on my phone while I put children to bed, or cook dinner. It's currently about a quarter complete, in two months. I think it's going well. It's plotted out and I'm in love with the characters.

And sadly...the plot and name is a total secret 🤫🙊 I shall not share my pen-name, nor the name of the novel on here, even if I get published (which I probably won't).

However...I largely dislike classical music. I have lovely tea sets...which are currently locked away from wayward tiny hands. My sophistication is on hold, soon to return, when my baby stops trying to eat my face and pull my glasses off.

Remember, at my core, I'm an angry anarcho-socialist who will quickly replace her heels for her DMs (or, my high-heeled DMs these days) when a door needs kicking through.

I'm also an insatiable flirt though, and I could and would do the Booktok door lean over you if only to see you melt just one chance Bunny I swear to god I would effuse about you if only I weren't too British to effuse but in reality I think about you a lot and question my heterosexuality and

Y'know, in case we ever meet 😏

Yours, disrespectfully,

-- Haitch xxx

[popcornforone]

JUNE

From the Marcus Pike Fan Fic Diary

Master List

May

I’ve written (well I say written) I actually spoke this because I wanted it to properly sound like an audio recording that had been converted into word for the diary. It was really random to do, so it’s not my best writing but I think it works for this situation.

Synopsis:- your on a girls holiday, when one night your trip takes an unexpected turn.

Word count:-1000

Warnings:- DONOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Swearing fingering public displays of affection, piv sex, lots of moaning, alcohol.

Yea this isn’t my usual style & I don’t think I will do it again but It was a good learning curve. Thanks for the read peoples

Audio description for diary when I return home from the girls holiday in Florida, day 5.

One of the girls called me out today. Clare realised I’m sneaking off once every couple of hours to record this for my diary. She asked

“you doing a diary?” & I was like

“yes well you know why not?”

“How long has it been going on all year?”They went.

oh but at least we’re gonna find out how good this time of our lives was I mean this is month five so far

Oooh Tara got off with Sam from that other bar & Vicky well you didn’t want to see Vicky this morning oh my God.

But yes, so far it’s going good. The tan is topping up. & I am on my second cocktail of the day as I lie by the poor reading the girl on the train.i can’t wait to see what happens next in the book, it is so full of suspense.

Oh God we are going to Michaels tavern tonight apparently it’s a 90s bar oh that means fancy dress doesn’t it? I’m not looking forward to it. I don’t do fancy dress unless it’s Halloween. Well I guess I just gotta make the girls happy & it is laylas night to pick what we do & she loves a bit of Backstreet Boys so I’m not gonna argue.

my nights coming up on night seven. I’m looking forward to that. That will also mean that there will probably be no more hangovers after night seven & then on night 12 we return home I get to get into my comfy bed & not have to share it with a girlfriend with cold feet & random snoring.

& I’ll have my Marcus to spoon me all night. oh I miss Marcus so so so much. I miss his kisses. I miss Little hugs

oh I should probably get out of the bathroom now, the girls are gonna wanna get in there next aren’t they? & I’ve got an outfit to prepare.

Wow. That was a right turnabout for the books oh my God

I am on a turning dancefloor busy reaching for the stars like S Club 7 all those years ago & suddenly I see this group & in they walk these lads, I say Lads men obviously, but they are all busy flirting their way through bar & I recognise one of them. It’s Jackson. I just shake my head. No I’m hallucinating I’ve had too much drink, oh God.

I’m saying this in the bathroom of the bar phone I’m sure you can hear the drum & based behind me. I went to the bathroom put some water on my face & head back to the bar & I go to the bar and I asked for 10 slushpuppy vodka shots in hope. that’s when I felt his arm go around my shoulder, I recognise that hand, so soft & large & it stroked my bra strap down & I just looked up at him & he looked down at me & we did the five shots each in unison & got to the last one & then the words escaped his Lips

“I miss you and I love you baby. “

Oh, you’re here & you ravaged me, the way your tongue flowed through my mouth hands caress my hips the way you held me close as my friends all cheered as we made out at the bar & they even turned on the sprinkler above us which the barman does when people are getting a little bit too intimate to break it up but didn’t Obviously. your hands went underneath my schoolgirl T-shirt & the way you made sure that I was being more than satisfied, damn, every single kiss every single toungue that invaded my own my tonsils feeling every inch oh Marcus oh Marcus. (Someone bangs on the bathroom door & Marcus shouts go away).

Waking up to you kissing my neck knowing that I ached knowing that you wanted some morning sex even though it was already noon. No way am I gonna be heading to the beach today because you are here in Florida spur moment with your friends because they got bored because we weren’t at home & now now you’re just… (muffled noise not picked up) Marcus, Marcus please oh you wanna you want some (gasp) oooh fuck yes oooh more baby oooh you missed this? Fuck oooh fucking fuck baby, more please please fuck baby, more (unable to detect the moaning) fuck yea like that just like ooooh fuck like that baby…

Marcus has just put on his shirt on, his holiday shirt obviously, they literally have come down here for Saturday & Sunday to make sure that we all remember all our boyfriends are like it’s a bit awkward for Tara but I’ll oh I never wanna leave Marcus side again the way in which he just made me cum so hard three times in a row he knows I’ve not bought anything with me to look after myself. oh, I’m gonna be thinking of nothing but his cock & the way in which he came, & the way that he sucked my nipples for the rest of the holiday I’m really looking forward to ripping my underwear when we get back next week & the way in which I will be laid on that bed & I won’t be able to go to work for next morning even though I should be there after having a few days off on holiday because I won’t be able to walk. Marcus it was a nice fly by drop in to make me feel good but now I’m lining for you more.

Yea diary that was last week when he arrived to make my trip memorable, I can’t believe it picked up some of our moans from the sex we had.

July

[nothere2010-blog]

another bit from College Jackie by Natatat on Fantasy feeder

Halloween continued: night #2

Josh and Sam returned to Sam’s house. Josh was still bleeding.

“I’m telling you that girl is crazy” Josh said while still holding his shirt to his face.

“I know, when I left to find you she was shoving food in still. Including…” Sam looked sadly at Josh.

“Including?” Josh looked like he was going to cry.

“Including the brownies. I’m sorry I couldnt stop her.”

“Well whatever she will pay for it soon.” Sam looked surprised.

“Yeah I mean they are really strong. She will probably break her costume.”

“Sam that is the least of her soon to be worries. First off if she eats all those she might still be feeling it tomorrow which means a repeat of tonight. Second she is going to freak out and then get all pissy. Third Taylor is going to fatten her up. He can’t help it, he likes pampering girls and Jackie seems like the kind of girl to abuse that.” Josh said while trying to wipe blood from his face.

“Well you dont know that, and besides she seems to really like Taylor. Also it would serve her right for being so vain constantly.” Sam said as she unlocked the door. “Oh shit!” Jackie was laying on the couch the straps on her costume cutting into her engorged belly. Her breath was labored as she moaned. Her belly was like a mountain and Sam doubted that she could even see her toes.

“Jackie! You okay?” Josh asked.

“Ugh ohhhhhh godddddd my stomachhhh, this costume is too tight and I’m too tired to get it off. Sammmmmmm!” Jackie whined at them. “Sammmmy help me get this off. Please please please” Sam rolled her eyes at the gluttonous girl before her. SHe looked ridiculous with her huge tits and stuffed gut tied up by her costume.

“Ugh fine, Josh go find some scissors.”

“Noooooooo! My costume!!!! Can’t you just untie it?” Jackie wailed.

“Jackie you made this thing so tight trying to show off your tits that the knot is impossible.”

“It hurts! Ughhh ohhhh!”

“Stop whining” Josh said. “Here” he pulled out a pocket knife and managed to cut the tight knot without too much damage. He stepped back.

“You look so funny!” Sam laughed.

“Who? Me?”

“Yeah a dog holding a pocket knife standing over an overfed cat.” Sam continued to laugh. Josh finally thought about it and started laughing too.

“Sam please help me out of this. It’s too tight.” Jackie wailed. Sam went to help Jackie up. The second Jackie was up the straps on her costume started coming loose.

“Woah! Damn Jackie I guess those Mellon’s were too much for your costume!” Josh laughed pretending to reach out to grab one. It seems the combination of the cut knot and the weight of Jackie’s recently plumped boobs was too much for the already form fitting costume.

“Josh turn around!” Josh just kept laughing as I rushed to grab Jackie a shirt. “Why are you not wearing a bra?!”

“Because it would ruin the lines of the costume.” Jackie stood there trying to get her costume off. She was too drunk and stuffed to figure it out. “Josh help me get this off” Jackie looked pleadingly to Josh when Sam was in the other room.

“Ugh do I have to?” I came back to see Josh helping Jackie out of her costume.

“Josh!” I said a little pissed off that he was touching Jackie’s softer curves accidentally while trying to get her costume off.

“What?” He looked at me.

“Hahaha that tickles!”

“Jackie I swear to god if you hit me in the face again” josh said. “Oh my god, how did you even get this on?” Josh said exasperated and out of breath.

“Hahahaha, practice” Jackie winked at him.

“Here” Josh tightly gripped Jackie’s costume and pulled it down to her ankles. It had been stuck on her butt. Once it had overcome her large milky white booty it slid down very suddenly; causing Josh to smash his face into Jackie’s huge butt.

“Hahahaha!!!! Why josh How forward of you!!!!!! Hahahaha!!!” Jackie laughed while gladly accepting the shirt and shorts I handed her.

“Damnit Jackie you hit me in the same place! God at least your butt is softer than your elbow!” Josh got up to grab ice from the freezer still holding his face.

“I told you that the boys love my booty! Hahaha!” Jackie grinned at Sam.

“Okay great now get that booty to bed before you hurt Josh anymore than you already have” I smacked Jackie’s ass as she walked by. It jiggled a bit.

[mrsnegan]

Hey I was wondering if you could do a fic with Negan who is addicted to the reader’s thighs and chest? 🥵🥵🥵

[Hey! I'm so sorry for the long wait, here's a little thing I wrote for your request. 🤤🔥]

Warnings: a bit of angst, smut, a bit of fluff, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, unprotected sex, a bit of cumplay

"Damn baby, I love you", Negan breathed against her neck, peppering her skin with hot kisses.

"Don't you lie to me, you're just desperate to fuck me, that's a difference", she answered a bit breathlessly, trying her best not to believe all those delicious words coming out of his glorious mouth.

"Why so sassy, Y/N? It's the fucking truth."

She pushed him away a bit to look into his eyes. She wanted to believe him, God forbid she wanted so desperately to be loved by him, but his mouth had spun lies in the past, how could she trust his words in a heated moment like this?

"How should I prove it to you?"

"Funny you're asking, maybe start with dumping your wives, then we can talk again about love."

She could see the desire in his eyes fogging over with anger, then, as fast as she had noticed it, it was gone again. He looked tired now, though somehow still adoring her scowling face.

"You know I can't do that, not now anyway. I need to keep that image up, need to lead those peoples. Now more than ever. But I do fucking love you, Y/N, believe it or not."

Her eyes drifted towards his lips, then up to his eyes again. She desperately needed to believe him, even if she had doubts about his words. In his gaze she could swear she saw what he truly felt and that his words were coming straight from the heart. So she sighed, taking his handsome face between her hands to press a kiss onto his lips.

He hummed approvingly, deepening the kiss while pushing her backwards onto her back.

"Let me at least make it up to you, I know how much you love my tongue", he spoke between kisses, his hands already busy with pushing her skirt up which she had solely put on for him.

"You're so full of yourself, Negan", she answered, but enjoyed how his fingers were tracing her thighs upwards.

"Oh darling, you soon will be fucking full of me too."

She wanted to respond to his foul and self-assured words, though his fingers possessively gripped the flesh of her thighs, pushing them apart to better settle between them.

"You have no fucking idea how much I love your thighs. So fleshy and mine." With his strong grip he was sure to leave tiny bruises, but Y/N couldn't care less.

With his signature smirk, he looked at her, before he again kissed the tender flesh of her neck, his hands travelling from her thighs towards her chest. He groped her breasts through her shirt, letting out a gluttoral sound.

"And your tits, they're out of this damn world. So round and also all mine."

Punctuating the last two words, he also pushed up her shirt, baring her breasts to his heated gaze because she had forgone a bra for a reason. His tongue was fast to close around one of her nipples, sucking it into his welcoming mouth.

The moans now leaving her were delicious sounds in his ears, so he continued his ministrations with her other one, switching between her breasts.

"Fuck, Negan", she groaned, feeling her panties dampen by the second. She wanted so desperately to feel him, the power he had over her made her feel dizzy.

"Yes, baby, I love the sounds you're making", he commented while making his way downwards, pushing her skirt as well as her underwear down her legs in one go.

"Yeah, let me see with what I'm working here." His hands parted her legs again, her bare pussy on full display.

"Fuck Y/N, so wet for me, need to taste you", were his words before he delved right in, licking a broad stripe from her entrace to her clit, hugging her thighs tightly on either side of his face.

"Shit", she exclaimed moaning, her hands immediately flying into his hair. He pleasured her like a god, eating her out passionately like he hadn't just tasted her a few days ago.

Her thighs trapped his head between them while her orgasm approached fast. He didn't even use his fingers, his tongue alone brought her to the brink. When she tipped over, she screamed his name, seeing stars.

"Mhm fuck, I just love it when you cum so hard you nearly crush me with those gorgeous thighs", he muttered breathlessly with his deep, sexy voice, biting her inner thigh playfully. His beard glistened with her juices, he looked utterly irresistible like this.

Negan kissed his way back up her body, helping her out of her shirt on his way which left her naked in front of him. Sitting back on his bed, he admired her body, biting his lip at all the dirty thoughts running through his head.

"Where are you going?" she asked when he stood up from the bed.

"Just taking off my clothes. Damn, you're so impatient."

Taking his time, he stripped in front of her while not once breaking eye contact. Despite her orgasm, Y/N was still hungry for Negan, so him undressing slowly felt like some kind of torture. She watched his cock springing free from its confines, all hard and ready for her. Licking her lips, she got up and onto her knees in front of him, intending to return the favor with her mouth obiently open, but Negan had other plans.

"Fuck, as tempting as that looks, gotta fuck that pussy now, I can't wait any longer."

He took her hand, helping her up, and guided her back towards the bed. But instead of pushing her onto it, he lay down himself, motioning for her to straddle him.

With a grin, Y/N followed him, sinking herself down as soon as she had crawled over him, a deep sigh leaving her mouth at the fullness she felt.

"Fuck, still so tight for me", Negan complimented, enjoying the feel of her velvet pussy around him and also the view. Her breasts moved with every determined bounce of her on top of him. His hands came up to them, kneading them lovingly.

"Fuck, you're so touchy today", Y/N commented, her hands finding a home on top of his while her movements never faltered.

"What can I say, I fucking love your tits." His touch got stronger, thumb and index finger of each hand twirling her nipples, a rich moan spilling from her lips. "I love how they feel, how they look. I love how you squirm for me when I touch them." He looked up at her, gifting her with the first deep thrust upwards. "And I sure as shit love how they look covered in my cum."

Y/N groaned at his dirty talk and movements under her, riding him faster to chase another orgasm which was building rather rapidly. "You feel so good."

Negan grinned at her, eyes fixed on her face. Over time he became a master at reading her body and he could see she was close. His hands left her breasts to find a home on her hips, helping her move above him, determined to bring her the most pleasure possible.

"Shit, harder, please", she uttered breathlessly and Negan delivered. He thrusted upwards a couple of times until the waves of bliss crashed over Y/N, leaving her a panting mess on top of him.

"Fuuucking hell", Negan groaned, still thrusting into her to prolong her pleasure. But he couldn't take it any longer, his own release building deep inside of him.

"Up", he uttered, helping her lift her body off of him. She collapsed next to him on the sheets, still panting helplessly, when he positioned himself next to her chest, stroking his cock with fast movements.

She watched him with hooded eyes while he came, roaring a litany of curses as his cum shot onto her chest, covering her breasts in pearls of white.

It took long moments for both of them to catch their breaths. Negan had collapsed next to her, laying on his side to better look at her.

"Damn, you look absolutely gorgeous with my cum on your tits."

She smiled at him lazily, her fingers dancing through his release, smearing it across her chest.

"I love how that feels." Her right index finger came up to her mouth to suck it clean. "And I love how you taste."

Negan nearly roared at her, wedging himself between her legs again and pinning her hands above her head.

"For fuck's sake, why do you always have to be such a fucking tease?"

"Because you love me for it."

"I definitely do. And you love me for all the naughty things I do to you."

She then smiled at him warmly, her fingers, still covered in his cum, stroking his cheeks, a gesture so absolutely filthy and sincere, it described their relationship perfectly.

"Yes I do. But I also love you for so much more."

---

Taglist: @murphslass @negans-attagirl @you-a-southpaw-doll @toxic-ink

[cdyssey]

One Bed

Summary: When Barbara and Melissa get to their conference hotel room, they're unduly shocked that there is only one bed. [Post-2.16]

CW: Alcohol, Drunkenness, Emotional Infidelity/Infidelity, Sexual Innuendo/References

AO3

—

It’s a mistake, of course.

A clerical error most likely.

Perfectly reasonable given all the administrative duress that the hotel must be under since it’s hosting PECSA.

When Barbara and Melissa get to their shared room, huffing and puffing and ready to park their tired asses down—having lugged their suitcases all the way down a long hallway that looks like it could have come straight from The Shining—they quickly realize that instead of two queens, there’s only one king-sized bed that’s clearly made for two. 

Barbara reacts as she’s supposed to, as is to be expected of her, a zealous woman of God—scandalized and righteously bewildered, stopping dead in the middle of the doorway, clenching the handle of her makeup bag far too tightly…

(… battling unsolicited images of Melissa’s beautiful hair splayed across a white pillow.)

(And she isn’t wearing a shirt in this vision for some inexplicable reason either, the contours of a black lace bra doing absolutely nothing to contain those creamy, voluptuous—)

“Oh, almighty God in Heaven,” she exhales with shuttered breath, blinking rapidly. Melissa nearly runs into her, the tip of her shoe clipping her heel as she also tries to teeter to an abrupt standstill with all her luggage.

It’s almost funny.

The way that Barbara barely feels the ensuing sting.

“What?” The younger woman grunts as she peers over her shoulder. “Is the room not clean yet or somethin’ because I swear to God, I ain’t carrying all this crap down aga—“

But she stops short, clearly sees the dilemma.

That one bed.

“Ah,” she only says, temporarily rendered speechless, which is a damn near feat for Melissa Schemmenti, who has strong opinions on pretty much everything, from the starting lineup of the Flyers to which Wawa hoagie is the best.

(The Gobbler obviously.)

“We should call downstairs,” Barbara suggests weakly, her throat strangely dry. Maybe it’s just the Allentown weather, and her sinuses are acting up, as they’re wont to do in strange environments.

Because surely, it’s not the prospect of sharing the same bed with her dearest friend in the entire world.

That would be ludicrous to be bothered about. 

Absurd even.

It’s merely a bed, and she’s a grown-ass woman who is perfectly capable of cohabiting a bed with another grown-ass woman.

If it has to come to that.

(She doesn’t think it would be a particularly good idea for it to come to that.)

“See if we can get it changed,” she continues, attempting a smile that stretches across her lips like rusted wire.

“What?” Melissa teases, having regained her composure far more quickly than Barbara. Her chin is nearly touching her shoulder, and that makes the kindergarten teacher feel some kind of way too, as though there’s a tightness coiled just behind her navel. She also blames this on her incredibly sensitive allergies, inwardly lamenting that she forgot to pack her Sudafed. 

“You scared to sleep in the same bed with me? ‘Fraid I have cooties?”

She receives an accompanying smirk and an elbow nudge at this, pinned down by twinkling eyes that remind her of both hearth and home, and Barbara can’t help it; she laughs in spite of herself. 

Because it never really matters in the end. 

Not with Melissa Schemmenti.

Whether she’s irritated about paperwork, stressed after a long few weeks of fearing that her husband has prostate cancer, or experiencing inconvenient sinus symptoms, the younger woman always knows how to tease a smile out of her. She’s a menace and one hell of a saint; she absolutely delights in doing so. 

Barbara used to hate that when she was a younger woman, loathed that there was apparently one person who could sneak past her well-constructed defenses and disarm them all with a sly wink and a shit-eating grin. She used to nag at Melissa all the time for being facetious.

It was utterly inappropriate.

All the jokes and games and innuendos that would make a preacher blush.

They were supposed to be adults. 

But now, nearly three decades down the line, she’s forever grateful to Melissa for continually reminding her of how to play.

“No, of course not,” she insists vigorously. “I just know that you and I would both be more comfortable if we had our own beds. Our backs are more twisted than those kids who won at the end of Footloose.”

“Pssh, that’s the moral you took at the end of Footloose, Barb?” Melissa snorts incredulously, shaking her fiery head. 

“Yes!”

No, it absolutely was not, but she isn’t going to admit to spending an inordinate amount of time admiring Lori Singer’s toned arms. 

As inspiration for her own exercise regiment, naturally. 

“God bless ya,” her friend chortles fondly, “but hell yeah, sure. We can grab our swag bags from the ballroom and swing by the front desk afterwards. And then it’s—“

“—pool time, baby,” Barbara finishes with delicious zeal, unable to contain herself, affecting a theatrical, little shoulder shimmy. 

She’s been looking forward to PECSA for at least a month now, anticipating all the best parts in advance: the long car ride with Melissa and the inevitable hours in the pool with her too, luxuriating in the sauna with Melissa, boozing it up with Melissa, staggering back to the room gloriously drunk at 2AM with Melissa, (wondering why life isn’t always as lovely as this in a tequila-soaked daze).

Waking up to Melissa as the first sight she sees in the morning.

Nursing a nasty hangover.

Thinking it’s an appropriate and welcome punishment for ever daring to be so perfectly happy.

(With Melissa.)

These are the traditions that they’ve threaded for themselves in all these years upon years—their rituals of unbecoming, of leaving school and family chaos and the consummate professionals that they always have to be behind. And, of course, what happens at the conference stays at the conference. That’s their maxim anyway—maybe even their chosen excuse—for the ways they tend to act when they’re alone.

“Well, I was gonna say booze time,” the younger woman grins, “but I guess the two aren’t mutually exclusive the way we do it.”

“No,” Barbara easily returns the smile, affectionately knocking her hip against Melissa’s own. “Not at all.”

—

An hour later, they’re stretched out side-by-side on lounge chairs by the pool—pre-gaming for PECSA-geddon with piña coladas—when Melissa gets a call from the concierge; they’d stopped by the lobby before heading upstairs to change into their swimsuits and made the manager aware of the error, leaving with a promise that he’d look for another room and get back to them as soon as check-in rush was over.

But to no avail.

There are no doubles left in the inn.

“He said they’ll send us a complimentary bottle of champagne for the trouble, though,” the second-grade teacher shrugs as she tosses her phone into her beach bag again. “So that’s a plus. I’mma need copious amounts of alcohol to cope with seein’ my sister’s ugly mug.”

Barbara, who had been stuck on the fact that she is in fact going to have to share a bed with Melissa tonight—(again, not that it discomfits her at all! she’s a grown-ass woman!)—is a little late registering what she just said, but when it hits her, when she remembers that they’d run into Kristin Marie before leaving the vendor ballroom, she sharply recalls the way the two sisters had so viscerally sparred.

As they always do when they encounter each other in the wild—claws out, hackles raised, their words like sharp teeth at the edge of the other’s exposed throat.

Barbara frankly thinks that their estrangement has gone on for too damn long. She’s seen enough of their fights to know that beneath all the name calling and cooking-based insults, they clearly love and miss each other, even if they’re both too stubborn to ever admit it. But all the same, she hadn’t appreciated Kristin Marie’s remarkably low blow about Joseph.

Hell, she may have even said something herself had Melissa not gotten there first.

“About that…” She begins, biting her plump lower lip. It tastes like pineapple. She briefly prays—perhaps inappropriately—that the rum will give her liquid courage. 

Barbara is well-aware that they have an implicit but long-established rule not to bring their personal lives with them to conferences. Last year, for instance, they did an exceptionally fine job of not talking about the fact that the Howards had been in unhappy straits, their marriage strained by Gerald’s recent promotion. His long hours exacted a toll from them; his frequent out-of-town trips caused an abyss that neither of them knew how to functionally bridge.

They didn’t argue necessarily—they just constantly disagreed with each other in their normal tones of voice—but that was somehow the exact same thing and possibly even worse.

(Maybe they were too apathetic to even muster themselves to fight.)

They persevered and made it through that dark time, though.

(Mostly.)

They tentatively reconciled.

(They never directly spoke about the thousands of tensions between them, steamrolling over and through them instead, affecting a normality that neither of them looked like they could wholly feel.)

Of course they did. There was no other option. Divorce was synonymous with quitting, and quitting was in neither of their vocabularies. 

But things had been complicated there for a while.

Life had been.

And this time last year, Melissa didn’t have to ask if something was wrong. Attentive to every microgesture, she just capably knew and didn’t press Barbara about any of it. 

Just kept plying drinks into her open hand.

And Barbara Howard had loved her for that—for her discretion, for her clear sensitivity to the delicate situation, for all her innumerable and wordless acts of care—the drinks, her purposefully inane chatter, the way she would sometimes rub circles into the side of the kindergarten teacher’s wrist when they sat at the bar, and every tall man with a sad smile unfailingly reminded her of Gerald.

She’s too something or another—(Involved? Hypocritical? Christian?)—to ever extend her the same courtesy.

“Don’t,” Melissa warns, sucking on the straw of her drink rather petulantly. “I don’t wanna hear it. I ain’t makin’ up with her.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that,” she replies patiently. (Well, she is. Eventually. If the two of them keep it up this weekend. Both for Melissa’s sake and her own. She’s not willing to play referee to the Schemmenti sisters’ knock-down-drag-out fights again. She’s been there, done that, and every attempt has unfailingly ended with her needing to imbibe copious amounts of wine for doing so.) “I was just going to ensure that you’re okay—see if you wanted to talk about it.”

It isn’t entirely lost on her that Melissa had said the exact same thing to her just two weeks ago when she’d nearly set the school on fire, distracted and undone by the stress of Gerald’s health scare. It isn’t beyond her grasp of irony that they’d concluded that same conversation on a laughing agreement that neither of them believe in the necessity of advertising their stressors.

But still.

It’s them, and they talk through these things when they’re ready or just on the verge of being so. It’s them, and they both implicitly know when the other needs a little push off the terrifying ledge. In fact, it probably wouldn’t be them if they didn’t—push each other and need to occasionally be pushed, that is—always challenging each other in their relationship in some way or another, more than willing to be what the other lacks. 

Melissa immediately averts her eyes, staring at the water mere feet away from them, how it rhythmically laps against the side of the pool, and Barbara stares at her, intransigent and yet so gentle, knowing it is a form of love to not let the moment go.

“What’s there to talk about?” She eventually shrugs. Her green cover-up slips at the gesture and the magenta strap of her swimsuit briefly becomes visible, her slightly freckled shoulder exposed.

Barbara blinks rapidly, forcing herself to concentrate, briefly unspooled by a sudden desire to kiss the creamy skin there, to sample the anatomy of her all the way down…

She coughs into her free hand, briefly choked.

Damn sinuses.

“Kristin Marie’s a little shit,” Melissa goes on, oblivious, still looking away, now idly swirling the colorful umbrella in her cocktail glass. “End of the story. Same old, same old.”

“A little shit who is also your sister,” Barbara parries back with a knowing smile as her friend just as deliberately scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Which is what makes it so complicated, sweetheart—the people we love know how to wound us far more effectively than any knife.”

“Did ya get that off a Snapple lid, Barb?” Melissa retorts. Melissa jokes. Melissa capably deflects. Always, always, always. It’s one of her less aggressive defenses against unwanted vulnerability, the one she tends to wield most in conversations with Barbara. 

(With other people—outsiders—she’d just bark and perhaps even bite.)

But Barbara solemnly shakes her head, unwilling to let her get away with it, thinking of her best friend’s kindness in these last few weeks—how, ever since the fire, not a day has gone by that she hasn’t made sure that she’s okay. Gerald even told her the other night—as they laid in their sheets after yet another round of celebratory relief sex—that he was glad that she’d finally told Mel. 

Mel.

He called her that because he loves her too.

Not in the same way Barbara does, of course…

… whatever way that happens to be.

That’s too complicated for her to ever fully—or at least, audibly—define.

Messy even.

And she despises mess, especially within the immaculate temple of herself; she scrubs it clean at the altar every Sunday, asking God’s forgiveness for a sin that she can’t even name.

She thrilled at her husband bringing Melissa’s pervasive specter into their shared bed, relieved that she didn’t have to be the one to do so; and yet, her hand splayed against his bare chest, she could not bring herself to interrogate the root cause of her own pleasure.

“I was worried about you,” he went on gently, his warm knuckles skimming her forearm as he held her in the dark, “keeping it all on the inside.”

“It was the only thing I could do,” Barbara returned, perhaps a little too quickly, echoing the same sentiment that she had said to Melissa. She could only pray and not talk about it; she had desperately wanted to talk about it, had almost dared to—several times, in fact—as she and Melissa sat at the same table that she’d later burned, as was their habit, as was their decades long norm. But the words remained lacquered on her tongue; the weight of them rendered her incapable of speech; she was convinced that speaking her fears to Melissa would make them all real.

I’m afraid my husband is sick, she could not bring herself to say.

And if he is—if this is our lived reality—then I am devastated, Melissa.

I am so, so guilty.

Our marriage is not what it once was.

She loves Gerald Howard; she always will—he has been her best friend for thirty-seven beautiful years—but she secretly wonders if their renewed closeness in these last few weeks is just mutual and desperate apology, a last-ditch attempt to mend what has certainly been disrupted between them.

They’ve been distant from each other for a long time now.

And it hasn’t been anyone’s fault, really.

All their polite disagreements aside, Barbara is more than aware that Gerald’s promotion was not the fundamental breaking point in their marriage; it was just the easiest grievance to turn into an excuse, the tangible obstacle that they could both offload their hundreds of insecurities into without delving further into any single one of them. They could blame the promotion because it was there. It kept them from having to confront each other, which was far more complicated than having an impartial something to unite against. This lack of introspection allowed their middling reconciliation to be easier to swallow than it probably should have been, and yet, conversely, it made Gerald’s irregular prostate exam results all that much harder to bear three weeks ago. After the fact, they both became alive to the reality that their marriage has long been broken, and they’ve done everything since then to try and bandage the festering wounds.

The sex has been passionate.

Has been sensational even—(they’re both overachievers)—and yet, strangely controlled, as though both of them are seeking atonement from the other’s satisfaction. Barbara appreciates the intimacy; she deeply fears that it is compensating for something that they can never, ever get back. 

“You’re happier now that you’ve told her, though,” Gerald continued, and his voice was so kind as it wound its way down to her in the quietness of their room, and yet, she could distinguish that his eyes were shrewd… and perhaps even a little sad.

That had scared her a little.

And maybe a whole lot.

What was there to be shrewd (and perhaps a little sad) about when it came to her relationship with Melissa?

What did he know?

Was it something that she didn’t? Was it the unspoken thing that she could not force herself to articulate—the twinges in her gut that she sometimes experienced when she looked at Melissa, the recurring visions of the woman in her underwear, the thrill that she just experienced when he had only said her name? Was Melissa the unnamable sin that she kept committing—over and over again—without ever fully acknowledging that she was doing so?

“Gerald—” She started, the slightest plea in her voice. She curled her manicured fingers into the dividing line of his sternum and wished that he had said something that she could truthfully deny.

But he cut across her; he enveloped her hand with his own and lightly squeezed.

“—I like it when you’re happy, Barb.”

And somehow, in their nearly four decades long marriage, that was the cruelest thing he had ever said to her because of what it indirectly and yet so clearly implied.

She was not happy with him.

She found, even in the rawness and the immediacy of that moment, that she could not wipe her hands free of blood and cleanly refute this assertion either, and so, only one ruinous fact remained.

She and Gerald love each other deeply and so much.

They’re hurting each other all the same.

“Be serious, girlfriend,” she tells Melissa, frowning firmly, her mind full of her husband, her chest aching because of her best friend. “I’m not talking about Snapple lids and you know it. I’m talking about lived experience.”

I’m talking about your sister.

I’m talking about Gerald Howard.

I’m talking about us.

(She always is in some way or another.)

We both know what it’s like to be hurt by loved ones.

And equally, what it means to hurt them back.

Maybe she and Melissa—without ever really realizing it—hurt each other every blessed day, just by inhabiting the same spaces and fooling themselves into believing that they are careful about never crossing any of its dutifully articulated lines.

“And I don’t wanna be serious, Barb,” Melissa huffs, the playful smile slipping sideways from her mouth. “I want to drink my piña colada and inhale so much chlorinated water that I accidentally get high. Is that so much to ask for PECSA weekend?”

The answer, of course, is no—it’s not a demanding request at all, and if Barbara is any sort of friend, she’d drop the conversation right here and right now, and allow them to return to their various attempts at self-medication… but she can't entirely help herself, a little reckless under the influence, freer here in Allentown from the facade which circumscribes her in every other given context.

PECSA Barbara has a lot in common with Sea Barbara.

They’re both almost truthful.

“Perhaps not,” she admits grudgingly, watching as Melissa places her drink down on the table between them and starts to take her cover-up off, clearly about to make a run from her feelings by diving into the pool. This is yet another one of her friend’s go-to diversionary tactics, the one she commonly resorts to when joking about her pain doesn’t work.

(It never really works on Barbara.)

“But you miss her, Melissa, and she’s here,” she continues, now dry-mouthed and overwhelmed at the sight of the younger woman in just her bathing suit: the ample exposure of her cleavage, the powerful silhouette of her thighs, the thin pink fabric that stretches tightly over her belly. “Perhaps God is trying to tell you something.”

Her chest bruises even as she utters the words.

She probably shouldn’t be invoking God when she can’t keep her eyes off of Melissa Schemmenti’s ass.

“And maybe it’s just a coincidence,” her friend says bluntly, suddenly standing up and kicking her sandals off. One nearly flies into the water.

Barbara winces at the tone, knows that she provoked it and hates that she did—(why can’t she ever leave well enough alone?)—which Melissa immediately catches, her green eyes softening, her entire expression, a conciliatory smile rising to her lips. It’s as crooked as the necklace of saints nigh perpetually strung around her neck.

“But, uh, enough chit-chat,” she says, jerking her head towards the pool, her messy ponytail violently swinging from side-to-side. “You comin’, hon?”

Barbara quickly decides that she’s pushed her luck far enough in this conversation and nods emphatically, slowly tugging her own cover up above her head, revealing her sky blue bathing suit underneath. It doesn’t escape her notice that Melissa’s cheeks have slightly reddened at the sight, that her pupils have dilated, that she’s rubbing at the hollow of her throat with three fingers. Indeed, thoroughly aware of all these reactions, she swallows thickly, suddenly self-conscious. She makes a meal out of neatly folding the garment and placing it in her bag, giving both of them time to recompose themselves.

“After you,” she eventually says in a voice that’s not her own.

And so, when Melissa wades into the water, Barbara dutifully follows, drawn siren-like by the fiery undulations of the other’s hair. 

—

Barbara showers first, and Melissa follows. 

Afterwards, of course.

Separately.

That’s probably the one thing that they’ve never shared—well, besides a bed, but even that’s about to change in the course of a few hours.

The entire time that she’s getting dressed, blow-drying her hair, smartening up in a green dress and turquoise blazer, meticulously applying her mascara, she’s thinking about that damn bed. She can’t escape it no matter where she moves in the room. It’s too big. It invades the entire space and all her rational senses. Even as she was showering, rinsing off the sharp stench of the pool, she could not escape the inexorable pull it had on her, the sensual thoughts that it engendered…

Red hair on a pillow.

Lace bras that don’t do their one and only job.

Hands touching hands.

Verdant eyes peering out of the darkness, pulling her inwards into the jungle of the night, a beautiful kaleidoscope of revolving bodies… scarlet curls, plum-colored lips, thighs like creamy taffy, skin like smoky quartz.

She can’t remotely blame any of this on her sinuses, so she rationally concludes that she should stop drinking for the evening—

—a resolution she almost immediately gives up on when a bellhop knocks on the door and delivers the hotel’s apology champagne. 

She pours herself a glass in one of the red solo cups she and Melissa had brought with them for the trip and unslowly drinks it, sitting on the edge of the bed that she and Melissa will eventually share. Some paint-by-the-numbers procedural show is playing on the television. She stares at it without really comprehending it and idly wonders if Melissa is the big spoon or the little spoon.

But then that particular line of thought makes her remember that her best friend has a boyfriend, and her stomach unpleasantly lurches at the thought of Gary the Vending Machine putting his hairy arms around her waist, pulling her in to his chest, working his undeserving fingers beneath the elastic band of her undergarments…

She’s never entirely liked the man.

(Yes, she absolutely pushed Melissa to date him in the first place.)

He’s good, he’s fine, he’s perfectly okay—but those are the same sorts of adjectives that one might apply to a functional kitchen appliance, not a romantic partner. 

She takes another distracted swill of her drink and doesn’t clock the precise moment when Melissa apparently steps out of the en-suite bathroom in a white robe, her vivid hair wrapped in a towel. But when she looks over and apprehends this dizzying sight, Barbara can only stare.

“Forgot my bra in here,” she chuckles, which is precisely the worst thing she can possibly say because Barbara’s eyes immediately roam upwards to the v-shaped divot of the robe, where little is visible except for curving shadows, the tantalizing suggestion of something more. “Kinda need that.”

“Yes,” she hears herself agree in a pathetically small voice, squeezing her plastic cup as Melissa saunters past to her suitcase, which is resting on top of the armchair in the corner of the room. It’s all very hypnotic, the pendulum-like swing of her hips, the graceful coordination of all her white-clothed limbs.

Barbara wonders if this effect is intentional, if Melissa knows exactly what she’s doing to her.

But she doesn’t give the thought too much air lest she accidentally name the animal of an emotion prowling around her gut for what she thinks it might be.

(It’s certainly nothing her fellow brothers and sisters in Christ would sanction, that’s for sure.)

(Happiness, her own husband might call it in the dead of night, in the sanctum of their shared bed.)

Melissa bends down to rummage through her suitcase, which doesn’t help matters much either, and Barbara tugs at her layered necklace, thinks she may have clasped it on a little too tightly.

“Listen, Barb, I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said earlier,”' Melissa starts falteringly, clear reluctance in her low voice. “About Kristin Marie. Y’know, at the pool.”

After Melissa had so firmly put a stop to that conversation, Barbara hadn’t brought it up again, and within minutes, they had returned to their jovial selves again—or, perhaps more specifically, the selves who they were at PECSA—hedonists, only thinking about the next physical pleasure. They laughed. They played. They were both experts at compartmentalizing, well-versed in the art of drowning out the noise with a facsimile of a smile. They dried off, finished their piña coladas, and enthused about the party tonight like it was the only pressing matter in their two-person world.

“Oh, do allow me to apologize for that, Melissa,” she frowns deeply as the other teacher finally straightens up with something in her hands. “I know your sister is a sensitive subject for you, and I… I shouldn’t have brought her up… we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

But Melissa vehemently shakes her head, a few damp curls falling from her towel, and finally turns to face Barbara again, a sad smile crooked at the corner of her mouth, a silky black bra dangling from her fingertips.

One hand still gripping her solo cup, Barbara buries the fingers of the other into her right thigh.

“Good, yeah,” her friend laughs, though the gesture doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She shifts uncomfortably, rolling her weight from foot to foot. “That works for me… but, uh, I also just wanted to say thanks, Barb.”

Barbara can’t pry her gaze away from that damn brassiere; Melissa’s own is darting anywhere but her: the ceiling, the carpeted floor, the empty space just over her shoulder. What a pair the two of them make.

“For what?” She asks in a constricted voice, and the oddness of it must draw the other’s attention because suddenly, they're finally looking at each other in the face again. They’re staring, mutually constituting each other in the wordless interaction.

Seeing and being seen.

It is all that they have ever done.

It is all that they seem to want to do.

“For bein’ there for me,” comes an equally charged reply, freighted by that which neither of them can openly name. “I know you were just trying to help out, and I appreciate that.”

“Always,” Barbara breathes immediately, so glad that there is space between them—some six feet and something even more intangible than that. The elaborate ring on her fourth finger digs into her thigh too. “You’d do the same for me.”

A slight beat; she smiles so widely that it almost hurts.

“You have done the same for me,” she adds passionately. “I don’t know who or where or what I’d ever be without you, Melissa Schemmenti.”

But she does in fact know—maybe they both do. Maybe even her sweet husband does too. Maybe it's the most horribly kept secret in the whole wide world.

“God, you’re such a sap,” Melissa laughs because it's easier than actually engaging, and Barbara allows her the indiscretion this time, even joining along.

“Girl, you’re one to talk!”

“Hey!”

She is more than dimly aware that it’s probably better for them both if they continue to treat their relationship like it’s some huge joke.

Because isn't it, though?

They love each other, and they can never actually say it aloud.

Isn’t that the funniest punchline in God’s almighty world?

They love each other, and they can never act upon this reality in any meaningful way.

They live with this crucial fact every single day and spend so many of their waking hours dangerously straddling the borders that they've so carefully articulated to keep themselves apart.

But, of course, that's only when they're sober.

—

With each math-a-rita that they guzzle at PECSA-geddon, the more liberal with their affection that they get, all of their studious inhibitions subsumed beneath the ministrations of tequila. 

One drink in, they start with little gestures.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Innocuous even.

Forgivable.

Barbara places a guiding hand on the small of Melissa’s back as they weave their way through the throng of nicely dressed people, looking for a table with room enough for two. The younger woman is wearing a leopard-print dress.

And she never wears a dress.

And she thinks about this, much longer and more sinfully than she probably should.

Melissa curls her fingers into Barbara’s wrist when they realize that they’re sitting with the Dawn Nichols, whose school supplies are legendary amongst educators. The second grade teacher gives her a knowing look, the kind that clearly says, Holy shit, there’s an opportunity here. 

We can make something happen.

And Barbara shivers with quiet delight as their ankles accidentally glance beneath the table, as the expression in those green eyes does something to her, unloosing her at her tightly knotted core.

Two drinks into the night, they’ve run into Kristin Marie by this point, and Melissa’s entire body is wound so tightly that Barbara thinks that to touch her is to break her.

But she does it anyway—touches her, that is—a little reckless with her head buzzing so pleasantly, the sermonizing voice who often tells her no locked outside her personal church for the night. She interlinks their arms together as they revolve around the ballroom, and Melissa vents about her younger sister being a total puttana—whatever that means—and a shithead—which is perfectly comprehensible.

She gets a little tired of this after a couple of revelations, though, her feet aching in her heels, and she doubles back on her initial resolve to not interfere with the Schemmenti sisters, suggesting the impossible in the same breath—that they try to make up with each other. 

And she touches Melissa’s arm when she says as much.

She presses her thumb into the crook of her soft elbow.

And when they look at each other—really look at each other—less than two feet between them, an island unto themselves in the middle of this crowded room, Barbara somehow knows that they’re both thinking about their conversation in the hotel room earlier—about the fact that they’re always there for each other, and it's not just a trite thing that either of them have unthinkingly said.

It's the truth.

Trust me, Barbara tries to say with just her eyes. I’m here for you.

If it doesn’t work out, I’ll be there to catch you if you fall.

Fuck you, Melissa all but communicates with her own, though with the deep sigh that comes shortly afterward, she just as immediately intimates, Okay.

Yeah.

Sure.

I believe you.

Trust has been hard won between them in over twenty years of companionship.

(It is a part of the love that they can never fully say.)

Two plus one math-a-ritas in, they’re back at the round table with Dawn Nichols and Kristin Marie—the Schemmenti sisters have finally made up!—and they’re all tipsily laughing about a story that Melissa is telling. Something inappropriate, of course. Something crass. Something about a wild escapade that she’d had when she went to France with a few of her friends for her college graduation trip, where she somehow became very close friends with a young Parisian couple she met at a bar.

“So we go back to their place and I’m thinkin’ that we’re just gonna throw back some shitty European wine,” Melissa carries on, simply exuberant, her cheeks suffused with a rosy glow, “and the guy, God bless him, he was flippin’ hot, but he didn’t have a thought in his head.” 

“Just your type,” Kristin Marie snorts, but the quip doesn’t have any real bite to it anymore. She grins at her older sister lopsidedly, with a reluctant tenderness that makes the striking resemblance between them all the more apparent.

“Yeah,” Melissa acknowledges cheerfully, nodding once, and Barbara is just happy to see her friend so happy, even though she’s not exactly sure where this adventurous story is going. “So his girlfriend’s in the bathroom, and he starts jabberin’ away at me, askin’ if I wanted to take my jacket off." Her eyes twinkling with mischief, she affects a spectacularly bad French accent. “Do you need to use ze restroom? Would you like some… lotion, mon chéri?”

She switches back to her normal voice, snickering at herself.

“Only he didn’t say lotion, y'know."

Dawn Nichols and Kristin Marie must arrive at similar conclusions at the exact same time because the former claps an amused hand over her mouth, while the younger Schemmenti sibling goes, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."

“What?” Barbara purses her lips, pouting a little, feeling left out, as she stares between the three women. She’d gotten sidetracked by the leg brushed up against hers beneath the table and perhaps lost the nuance in the conversation as her companions laugh raucously. “What am I missing?”

“It was lube,” Melissa proffers without the slightest modicum of reserve, shrugging her nearest shoulder. “They wanted to fuck me, Barb.”

Barbara can't recover her face fast enough; her mouth falls open where she sits, and she can only blush and suddenly be assaulted with a thousand new images pirouetting through her head—all of which have to do with Melissa and none of which are remotely acceptable to God.

“And did they?” Dawn asks in a hushed voice, her own features delicately feathered with pink, as she leans forward in anticipation of an answer.

“Oh, hell yeah,” her best friend smirks as Kristin Marie guffaws at Barbara, who is now currently choking on air.

Melissa, unshaken and unfazed, takes it in stride, though, rhythmically patting her on the back.

“Oh, shit, ya’ve broken a woman of God,” Kristin Marie snorts, wiping at her eyes.

“Nothing new,” Melissa says charmingly and she leans over to press a kiss against Barbara’s cheek as though to prove a point. 

Barbara cradles her burning face in her hands.

“Lord,” she exhales into her palms, fully incapable of looking at the woman next to her, “I don’t know why I’m even still friends with you.”

Melissa just laughs and laughs, and she continues to massage the spot between her shoulder blades, and she laughs.

Four drinks in, and they’re having a math-a-rita drinking contest with Derek, a bellhop whom they’ve become friendly with over the years. 

Well, Melissa has a drinking contest with him, while Barbara uses the barest sliver of common sense and sobriety that she has left to cajole Dawn Nichols into working with Abbott for at least a year.

“Thank you,” she enthuses, briefly squeezing the other woman’s arm where it rests on the table. “You don’t know how much this will mean for our students.”

“Of course,” Dawn says, warmly observing the drinking game happening a few feet away. Melissa has nearly polished off another glass to Derek’s growing chagrin and Kristin Marie’s violently loud delight. “It’s clear to me that you and your partner are excellent educators; I know you’ll put the resources to good use…”

In her unadulterated surprise at the word used to describe hers and Melissa’s relationship, she nearly forgets to be gracious.  

“Oh, we aren’t—“ She suddenly starts and then stops herself, reevaluating mid-sentence. 

Partner isn’t necessarily a romantic term. Partner simply implies companionship and association with another, inseparability and togetherness. And they have absolutely been those things.

Inseparable.

Together.

A united front.

Partners.

Yes, of course they are and have always been.

“I mean, thank you,” she amends herself politely. “Melissa is truly one of a kind.”

The second grade teacher’s ears must be burning because she apparently hears this and turns back to face them with a radiant smile on her lips, as red as the blush that enlivens her soft cheeks.

“Damn straight I am,” she jests, comfortably resting her chin on Barbara’s shoulder. “What are we talkin’ about again?”

Barbara naturally leans into the touch as Dawn briefly turns away, now engaged by Kristin Marie asking a question about supply packages.

“Oh, nothing, sweetheart,” she muses in a low voice, suddenly feeling herself pulled into the other’s mischief, even wanting to play along; she's simultaneously breathless, intoxicated, by her intimate proximity and the scent of her orange blossom perfume. “Just about how you and I are partners. It’s a rather lofty descriptor for the shenanigans we get up to, isn't it?”

“Yeah, it’d be far easier to just say gay.”

“Melissa Schemmenti!” She nearly chokes. 

Again.

“I kid, I kid! Jesus, Barb! Get a sip of water!”

But there’s not one ounce of water to be found on their table, and so Barbara has to compromise with another hearty swill of margarita.

Tragic.

But she'll cope.

An ungodly amount of alcohol later—(Barbara has lost track of how much either of them have consumed)—they finally stumble into their room around 2AM, supporting one another as best as they can with their altered equilibriums, giggly and utterly euphoric, triumphant in their respective conquests. 

Melissa has outdrunk Derek for the fifth year in a row, and Barbara has secured a contract with Dawn Nichols.

And they are both so drunk and so exhilarated and so unbelievably alive in the moment, that they don’t entirely know how to extricate themselves from each other in the come down from such an exquisite high; they fall into bed—that one, singular bed—in a tangle of loving limbs, still in their dresses, only just capable of kicking their shoes off into the semi-darkness of the room. They didn’t close the curtains all the way before they left for PECSA-geddon, so moonlight intrudes upon the moment, silver and stunningly bright, catching both of them in the simple act of being happy.

Frankly, though, at this current junction of time, as compromised as they are, it’s beyond either of them to fully care. 

“Shit, fuck,” Melissa laughs so hard that she shakes the mattress beneath them. “Your ring’s caught in my hair, Barb.”

“Oh, sorry, girlfriend,” Barbara apologizes and attempts to unravel her fingers from that mass of scarlet waves, but her ring is caught in the wilderness of it, snarled and apprehended. Somehow, in the incredible dysfunction of her mind, she thinks that raising herself above Melissa as she lies vulnerable on the mattress is the best way to set herself free, but all this does is give her a proper aerial view of her prone best friend.

All this does is nearly place her on top of her, their heaving chests inches apart, threatening to collide every so often by the force and desperation of their breathing. Barbara’s slender hands are splayed on either side of Melissa’s head. 

Her face.

She can see every pronounced lineament in the younger woman’s face. Its dramatic height and angular proportions. The complicated expression in her eyes: the profound tenderness of them and something else too. Hunger. Reverence. Melancholy. She can trace the crow’s feet that gather beneath them and at the very edges of them. The redness of her slightly parted lips and the parentheses which enclose them. The slope and the playful upturn of her sharp nose. 

She is beautiful, so unspeakably gorgeous.

Melissa Schemmenti.

Her very best friend.

Her partner.

Maybe even the love of her life, the opportunity who has always eluded her, the what if? just beyond her reach. But, at long last, there is no barrier between them, no insurmountable wall. There is only them and their bodies and the chemistry that electrifies them both whenever they so much as look each other. There is this feeling in her stomach that has been building all day, a tension that she cannot swallow, a queerness that she cannot properly digest. It erects itself in her like a monument, scaffolding its way up the column of her spine.

It will reach her tongue finally.

Those three glorious words.

Fuck me, Melissa. 

(Because I love you is something she still won't be able to say.)

(I love you would make all of this so very real.)

(And precisely none of it can be real; these are the fantasies; these are the fairy tales.)

(The delusions.)

“Ouch,” Melissa murmurs as her hair is pulled. 

By Barbara Howard’s diamond encrusted wedding ring.

It shines in the irradiated light of the moon, glinting harshly, in clear and damning reprimand, and Barbara flinches viscerally, as though stricken. The ring becomes a token again, symbolizing something else besides its own beauty.

Gerald is a good man.

She loves him so much.

She isn’t in love with him, though.

But even still, what gives her the right to ever hurt him?

She straightens up into the air so fast that her head spins, that her stomach lurches, that all the booze she has consumed in the past few hours nearly crests within her and outside of her. She frees her hand; she undoubtedly tugs some more of Melissa's hair. She almost reels backwards into the TV, unable to recapture her balance. She covers her mouth with the hand that always reminds her that she is a married woman, a taken one; the silver band firmly scolds her lips.

“Shit, Barb,” Melissa breathes, abruptly sitting up in the bed, concern in her eyes, such tender and evocative care. “You okay?”

She nods mutely, incapable of trusting herself to speak without expelling all of the accumulated pollution inside of her. Tears form in her eyes and leak over her lower lashes anyway. 

“No, you’re flippin’ not,” her friend readily supplies, standing up herself on rather wobbly feet, but she takes a step towards Barbara anyway, as though to bridge the gap between them, the untenable, omnipresent distance.

And Barbara equally takes a step back, her lower hip hitting the wardrobe that the TV sits upon. 

“Don’t,” she hisses painfully, finally uncovering her mouth.

“Why not?” Melissa challenges, at once defiant and wounded, her brow furrowed over her eyes. The recognition of this makes the kindergarten teacher want to scream. In not hurting Gerald, she’s surely plunging a knife into Melissa. She’s proving her own point from earlier.

Love is a weapon.

It maims and occasionally destroys.

“Because I would kiss you,” she admits, and it feels good to finally say it aloud, to give shape and dimension to these feelings that have seethed inside of her for so long, for so many of the years upon aching years that they've taught at Abbott Elementary side-by-side.

“… and that would make a monster out of me,” she quickly adds because this is also true, and it needs to be said aloud.  

It needs to injure, push away, and deter; she doesn't want to do it; necessity drives her on.

“Oh, yeah?” Comes a reply gentler than it has any right to be. Kind. It Is far less than what she deserves. “And what would that make me then, huh?”

One too.

Complicit. 

Just like me. 

She could say any of these three things but doesn’t; it was clearly a rhetorical question; she can see in Melissa’s darkly lashed eyes that she is willing to accept every wayward epithet if this is the price, if this is the blood sacrifice of their communion.

They can be monsters with each other; they can be so totally in love.

Barbara swallows; thoroughly inebriated though she is, she is not insensible to the magnitude of this offer, the knowledge that all she has to do is say the word and down they’ll descend into hell, hand in monstrous hand.

Alone.

Together.

“I can’t,” she rasps anyway. She swipes angrily at the tears still slipping down her face. She sniffs noisily and loathes herself for it.

“I know,” Melissa returns, her own eyes suddenly overbright. 

But then Barbara Howard leans down and almost does it anyway, gathering the silky hair at the back of Melissa’s neck in her fist, her knuckles softly scraping the skin there. And their noses brush. Their boozy breaths gather in hot pockets in the barest space between them. 

Their lips never touch, though.

Sacrilege remains uncommitted.

“You can’t,” Melissa echoes as a singular tear spirals from the corner of her eye and down the tall plane of her cheek. It collects calmly on the vertex of her chin and remains there.

Barbara brushes it away with her thumb before completely letting go.

“No,” she agrees hoarsely, stepping back for good, and there is a finality to the act that saves and devastates them both.

—

They take turns showering, rinsing the night off them, the copious amounts of booze. Melissa goes first this time, and Barbara follows. 

Afterwards, of course.

Separately.

And when Barbara eventually stumbles back into the bedroom, wearing pajamas that she’s pretty sure are inside out, she sees that Melissa is already in bed, covers pulled up to her face, clearly asleep, lightly snoring.

She’s erected a pillow wall between the two halves of the one bed. 

It’s a smart move.

And an incredibly isolating one.

But smart moves usually are.

Barbara accepts this for what it is and staggers to her side, slipping beneath the sheets as quietly as she can, briefly tossing and turning to get comfortable, which eventually means facing the two feet tall chastity belt, staring at it as her eyelids begin to droop.

Loving it.

Hating it.

Eternally grateful to it.

Disappointed at its necessity, disappointed with herself.

She is so weak in a thousand myriad ways; maybe that, too, is love…

… she doesn’t exactly know what compels her to in the end—(weakness, loneliness, monstrosity, love)—but before she entirely drifts away, she reaches underneath the pillows and is relieved to find a hand waiting for her there.

A concession.

A forgivable compromise.

And so, Barbara allows herself this one pittance too. She intertwines their fingers beneath this latest boundary that divides them, understanding that this—yes, this—is the sole degree of happiness that she can afford without too high of a moral cost.

She falls asleep haunted by the way that the striations of their fingers so perfectly align.

[donghyuckcuyhgnod]

OUR LITTLE SECRET.

park jisung x fem!reader

genre: fluff, crack

warnings: swearing, haechan sees reader naked for like two seconds, implications of showering with jisung, jisung’s clothes are too big for reader, implies that reader has long & dark hair, reader uses she/her pronouns

2.2k words

you were jisung’s little secret. as an idol, being in a relationship was not only risky, but hard to contain. not only did jisung worry about his own repuatation, but the most important thing to him was your happiness and your safety. and if the world knew about you, he was sure that both of those would be at risk. so he kept you to himself; not even his closest friends and fellow members knowing about you.

you didn’t mind, of course. you appreciated the way he took your feelings into consideration. you didn’t want to be famous, not one bit. you didn’t want to be known as the girl who dates an idol. jisung meant the world to you, and you didn’t want anything to get in the way of that.

so, the two of you opted for hanging out only when the fellow dreamies, who also happened to be jisung’s dormmates, weren’t home. and after your departure, he would make sure that every tiny trace of you was gone. he thought he’d been caught just recently—jaemin had found a piece of long dark hair in the laundry room and was quite puzzled. of course, jisung feigned the same amount of confusion as the other boys. and luckily, he wasn’t questioned.

or even when renjun found a tube of lipgloss in between the couch cushions when he was cleaning one day. luckily, donghyuck’s sister had visited recently before that which made a great excuse as to why there could be a tube of lipgloss in the couch. however, jisung couldn’t help but taste that same lipgloss on his lips from the day before when the dreamies weren’t home.

but he hasn’t been caught, and he hadn’t planned on getting caught any time soon. it’s been over a year since the two of you began dating, and to be honest, both of you were quite shocked at how long you’ve kept this secret. jisung promised you that one day, when ready, he’d gladly introduce you to the members; but for now, laying low was the only viable option.

you sighed at the feeling of the hot water trickling down your back, your hands running through your hair to get the suds out. the only type of wash jisung had in the shower was men’s shampoo, but the smell was absolutely heavenly so you weren’t really complaining. he had just previously gotten out, opting to let you finish washing your hair while he searched for a movie for the two of you to watch before you had to leave the dorms.

you heard the knob of the bathroom door turning, a smile immediately adorning your face at the thought of your boyfriend’s pretty face, free of any makeup and hair completley natural. you were about to greet him, until you heard a voice that definitely wasn’t jisung’s.

“jisung, we’re home a little early. jeno forgot to text you that we were on our way back,” you heard a high-pitched voice say, and you could lightly make out the shadow of a figure walking towards the sink in the bathroom. your eyes widened, a state of pure panic taking over your body.

shit, what do i do now? i can’t say anything, my voice clearly isn’t jisung’s! but if i stay silent, it’ll be weird! oh, fuck!

“dude?” the boy said after another moment, confusion laced in his voice at the lack of response. your hands flew to your forehead in frustration, holding your breath in a nervous habit. the figure walked a bit closer towards the closed shower curtain, and you could see the way he bent down and picked something up.

shit.

“bro, why are there women’s underwear on your floor? and a bra?” you heard a laugh. “i had no idea you liked to wear these types of things, jisung,” the boy teased, and you could practically feel the smugness in his tone. suddenly, you heard the voice of your lovely boyfriend. finally.

“hyuck! h-hey, what’s up?” jisung casually asked, and you could clearly hear the nervousness in his voice. you could make out his figure faintly through the curtain, his hands on his hips as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

“oh- jisung? why is the shower running if you’re not in it?” the boy questioned, a tint of suspicion in his voice.

“oh, you know. just cleaning the tub!” jisung laughed it off, and you rolled your eyes at his pathetic excuse and terrible lying skills.

“cleaning? dude, you never clean!” the boy, that you now know as hyuck, laughed. “let’s see just how good you cleaned the bathtub then,” he mocked, and the panic began to rise in you once again as you saw his figure get closer and closer to the shower curtain. and suddenly, there were fingers hooked around the ends of the curtain and a panicked jisung yelling, “no! hyung, stop!”

and before you knew it, your eyes met a pair of brown ones that had blown incredibly big at the sight of a girl in the familiar shower. the scream you let out was loud and ear-piercing as you tried your best to cover yourself, a similar noise coming from the boy you’d never met before.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” he screamed, immediately covering his eyes, running out of the bathroom as you heard his loud footsteps. you stopped the water, not knowing what else to do as you heard jisung chase after him.

“THERE’S A GIRL IN OUR SHOWER!”

suddenly, a series of voices began to reach your ears, a loud and shocked “THERE’S A GIRL IN OUR SHOWER!?” coming from another voice, but this one a bit deeper. you cringed, an overwhelming amount of regret taking over you. as fast as you could, you exited the bathroom, thanking the gods above that your boyfriend’s bedroom was only one room over. you threw on the first thing that you could find in jisung’s closet—a large shirt and a pair of sweat shorts.

after speedily getting dressed, you made your way towards the door of jisung’s bedroom. your hand hesitated on the knob, a heavy breath leaving your lips as you prepared yourself for an interesting encounter, and also to properly explain yourself; although, you weren’t really sure there was a proper way to explain all of this.

opening the door, you slowly and nervously made your way down the hall and nearing the living room, where several different voices were bickering and talking back and forth—you being the main subject.

rounding the corner, you caught sight of the five boys you had heard so much about. your body shook with nerves and your wet hair felt heavier than normal on your head and your shoulders. they hadn’t heard or seen you yet, their minds too occupied with questioning and interrogating the youngest of the group.

you lightly cleared your throat, gaining the attention of all six boys as they went completely silent. all twelve eyes were on you, wide and shocked, confusion evident in the way they looked at you. jisung silently cooed at the way you looked with his baggy clothes on your small figure, but now was not the time for that.

“who are you!?” one of them screeched, his bright orange hair swaying as he shook his head in confusion. before you could even get a word out, jisung interrupted.

“chenle! don’t talk to her like that!” he defended you. the way the five unfamiliar boys stared at you had involuntarily made you shiver, your nerves causing you to flinch away from their stares.

“guys, this is. . . uhm,” jisung cleared his throat, looking down at the ground as his cheeks went red. he scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with his five best friends, and especially you. your eyes sparkled at him, a gentle smile taking over your face at his cute antics. although, you couldn’t really blame him for acting in such ways. this was an awkward situation. “this is y/n. my girlfriend,” he blurted out, his voice going high-pitched at the end of his sentence.

“girlfriend?” another said, his eyes going wide as he stared at jisung. “since when have you had a girlfriend?” he said, his pink hair nearly covering his wide eyes.

“about a year and a half,” you responded, and they seemed shocked to hear you speak. your voice was small and nervous, but had a sweetness to it that made their hearts melt. you were so small compared to them, jisung’s clothes hanging off of your dainty figure like a dress.

“you’ve been keeping this from us for over a year!?”

“yes, renjun!” jisung responded with annoyance. “she just said that, didn’t she?”

“oh, don’t you dare talk to me like that-“ renjun started, but was cut off by the final boy, his round glasses slowly sliding down his nose as he shushed renjun.

“i’m really sorry,” you said, your eyes wide in regret as you nervously played with your fingers.

“why are you apologizing? it’s my fault i didn’t tell them,” jisung said, a look of sincerity in his eyes.

“no, no, no. it’s not your fault. i’m sorry for intruding when you guys didn’t even know i existed. it was wrong of me and i apologize. i’m the one who agreed to see jisung in secret, when i should’ve been encouraging him to be truthful with you all. i-i didn’t mean to offend any of you,” you spoke softly, and the boys couldn’t help but soften at the way you basically shriveled into a ball from nervousness.

“it’s okay,” hyuck said, noticing the way jisung looked at you with sadness in his eyes. he had never seen such a look on the younger’s face, and it almost made him feel bad for making such a scene. almost. “it’s jisung’s fault. he’s the idiot for keeping an entire person from us,” he finished.

“hey!” jisung defended, and you couldn’t help but giggle at that, covering your face to hide your blushing and embarassed cheeks. the boys smiled at you, somehow finding you quite adorable. it had only been a mere few minutes and they had barely even spoke to you, yet somehow you were already like a little sister to them. maybe it was the look in jisung’s eyes when you emerged from his bedroom, or maybe it was the way you smiled at jisung after hyuck made you laugh.

“you guys are all assholes, you know! instead of approaching the situation calmly you just automatically freaked out on me!” jisung said, huffing as he stomped his foot.

“calmly!? park jisung, i saw a naked girl in our shower. how the hell was i supposed to react calmly to that!?” hyuck said, causing you to break out into giggles once again as he shouted at your boyfriend. the boys joined along in your light laughter, all amused; except for your boyfriend, of course.

“well. . . i don’t know! also, why are you still holding those!?” jisung shouted, noticing the familiar pair of blue underwear in hyuck’s hands. your boyfriend snatched them from his friend’s grip, hiding them behind his back. you yelped in embarrassment, for they weren’t necessarily a normal pair of underwear—but rather, lack-there-of.

“yeah? why is your hair wet, too?” chenle pointed out, the boys all noticing his dripping wet locks, similar to yours. jisung’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging open in shock. suddenly, his entire face was a deep shade of red and his eyes were trembling. “wh-what are you talking about? i took one before her!”

“yeah, right! your hair would’ve been dry by now! our little maknae isn’t so little anymore, huh?” the boy with the pink hair smirked, a teasing laugh escaping his lips as the boys joined along. “shut up, jaemin!”

“hey, i don’t blame you, sung! from what i saw, she’s got a nice pair of-“

“don’t you dare say it!” he yelled at hyuck. you put your face in your hands, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“our maknae can get it!” the boy with glasses said. “shut up, jeno!” jisung responded, clearly at a loss for words.

you giggled again, your mood suddenly lifting. you no longer felt weird and embarassed by the way they looked at you, but rather comfortable. they had already made you laugh quite a few times, and you had only just met them. you looked at jisung and the way he sighed in frustration, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and the way they nagged and teased the younger.

despite jisung’s protests, you could already make out the clear brother-like relationship between the boys. it was evident in the way they teased him, their remarks full of affection. weirdly enough, you enjoyed seeing so much love being put forth towards your boyfriend, no matter how much he disagreed.

for the days after that, you no longer saw jisung in secret. you started to spend a lot more time at the dorms, whether the dreamies were there or not. you even began spending nights there, up until sunrise playing games with jisung and his fellow members. you felt closer to your boyfriend than ever, and you were happy to call the five other boys your new friends.

maybe being a secret wasn’t the best option, afrerall.

all rights reserved, © euphoriclele 2021

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

rhinestone eyes

PAIRING: Rich Boy!Eren x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS [present+future]: infidelity, dubcon, gaslighting, manipulative and toxic behavior, toxic relationship, sexual content, yandere tendencies, suggestive hand-holding

part one

kofi

There's a sneer on Eren's face as green eyes behind Versace aviators glide over your form, staring you up and down. His gaze is so penetrative, it makes your teeth chatter. Maybe he was just checking you out. Maybe he was scrutinizing every blemish.

You suddenly feel so very small in your tennis skirt, the tight collared shirt stretching over your breasts, and wished that today out of all days wasn't when you decided to dress a little more stylish.

"Fancy seeing you here." His voice is nonchalant but there's a tone of humor that accompanies his brisk words. How long would it be until he laughs at you?

He scowls, "Are you mute or something? Why aren't you greeting me back properly?"

"Eren," You took a deep breath, "What are you doing in Paris?"

It occurs to you that you've never seen him out of his uniform before. He's wearing a light blue button-down, half the buttons left unfastened, polo shorts, an expensive black watch glittering on his wrist, silver rings on his slender fingers, and a thin silver chain dangling around his neck.

He's also acquired a new piercing, industrial, judging by the bar across his ear. The silver glints harshly under the sun.

"Are you done burning holes through me?"

You blush, embarrassment coloring your cheeks: "No, I'm just surprised." You tucked a loose lock of hair behind your ear, "Didn't expect to run into anyone I knew in another country."

You were just taking a pleasant walk in the acclaimed Champs-Élysées, the avenue every bit as a picture-perfect postcard as it had been described.

"Have you eaten?" The question is spoken with a sigh like he couldn't believe he was asking you this, and you couldn't either.

"Oh, um, no?" You responded, bewildered.

He runs a hand through his dark hair, which reached the nape of his neck by now: "I know a cafe around here. Let's get brunch. We'll talk there."

You don't know what possessed you to nod but you did so, trying to match his quick and long strides. The walk was silent, presumably because the two of you were saving your burning questions for the cafe.

He rolls his eyes when you stutter through your French. He raises a hand, and simply tells the waiter his order and dismisses him. His French is flawless and you're tempted to ask him how it's so good, but you already know the answer. Probably had hordes of tutors to help him.

Merci Monsieur

"Wait," You remark to Eren, "I didn't order."

"I ordered for us. Pain au chocolate, savory crepes, eggs, and ham. Coffee after. For me. Hot chocolate for you because you don't drink coffee."

Oh. That actually sounds good. How did he know your beverage preferences?

He fishes out a cigarette from his pocket, skinny and hand-rolled, "So what are you doing here? No offense but you don't exactly seem like you can afford a vacation to France. "

Now is your turn to sigh. You've nearly forgotten how blunt he could be: "Here on an internship. For art" You supply.

"I assume you just regularly come to Paris every summer?"

He doesn't deny or verify your statement, "Something like that."

"So you're staying at a hostel or?" He asks, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that makes your nose wrinkle.

The waiter comes by with food, and you turn to Eren with a sour look, "I sincerely hope you're not going to smoke while we're eating."

To your utter surprise, he ashes the cigarette. You were expecting a witty and mean retort at the very minimum, not silent compliance.

You pick up the earlier conversation, "Well, I'm actually staying with my boyfriend." You mummer the last word quietly but the viridian-eyed boy's ears are keen. You don't notice how his grip on the knife tightens.

"You're staying with your boyfriend?" He repeats.

You nod, "Yeah, he's an art student too."

The rest of the meal is completed in sparing small-talk and lengths of silence. But it's not awkward. It's weird. On one hand, having brunch with Eren Yeager in fucking Paris, heir to a billionaire pharmaceutical company should feel surreal, but it's strangely peaceful. You feel more at peace sitting across from him in France than you did when he sat next to you in homeroom.

When it's time to pay the check, Eren looks amused by the very notion of you digging into your purse.

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let the lady pay?" His words are spoken with a teasing smile.

You roll your eyes but can't help a glimmer of a smile from peeking through on your lips, "Didn't take you much for a gentleman."

He tosses his black card on the bill, "You'd be surprised."

What's there left to do now? Is it time to part ways? There's a part of you that craves more but life has taught you to not be greedy when you already have so so much.

You dabble the corner of your lips with a napkin, "Well, this has been fun-"

"Wait, uh, do you wanna check out the Louvre? Since you're an art student and all, you might uh enjoy it."

You stare at him. Is he tongue-tied?

"You've probably there been a million times already."

"Yeah...but you haven't been, right?"

You blink before breaking into a smile that Eren is sure is going to give him heart palpations, so sunny and bright.

"I would love to!"

You guys check out Mona Lisa for the sheer novelty, and you're bouncing around the museum, oohing and ahhing at the chiseled statues and Renaissance paintings. There is so much history here, it blows your mind.

Eren finds himself watching you more than the paintings. You have this veneer of snark that you wrap around yourself like a protective gauze (maybe that's how you maintain your survival in a world of hyenas) but you're different now.

You're yourself. Watching you here come alive in unbridled enthusiasm, eyes widened in passion, makes him reach out to his pocket and fish for his disposable film camera. He doesn't know if he's ever seen anyone in his vapid life look like the way you do, so filled with a zest for things that are greater than themselves.

He wants to burn you into his memory, praying to all the gods that you won't notice when he takes a picture of you admiring a bust of a goddess. He slyly tucks his camera back into his pocket.

The world seems to stand still when you tug his hand to show him a painting, an expression of unadulterated wonder on your face. But when you realize you pulled his hand, you immediately drop it like hot coals.

Why do you look so worried? Why do you look so scared?

"You can hold my hand if you want. It's-it's okay." He can't believe he's gotten the words out.

You're taking too long, your hands still hanging limply by your side, an indiscernible expression on your pretty face. Eren doesn't understand why it makes him so mad, why your sudden hesitation grated his nerves. Deciding to make your choice for you, he grabs your hand, squeezing your palm as he flashes you the charismatic smile that's got him out of countless incidents.

He doesn't like the expression of worry marring your features. Where did the happy jovial girl go? Just a few seconds, you were poking him with sparkles in your eyes, "Look at this Eren!" and "So beautiful, right?"

He forces another smile: "Show me the painting you wanted me to see." Maybe it was meant to be a request but it comes out as a demand.

You cast a glance at your joined hands, his grip borderline painful. "O-okay."

You lead him across the floor, and Eren can feel the stares of people around him. They are smiling. An older woman utters a "Un si charmant couple."

You take him to a grand painting. It's haunting and dark, swirling with so many shades of dusty red from vermillion to scarlet. A pregnant woman lies reclined, arm hanging and head lolling. She appears to be asleep, and there is a cacophony of men around her portrayed in varying degrees of stress.

"Death of a virgin", you breathed.

Such a macabre name, Eren thought as he gazed longer into the painting. He loosens his grip on your hand, testing whether you would pull away.

You don't.

It's raining outside and you're giggling.

"Fuck" Eren swears, "I'll call a cab."

You're a vision drenched in rain. Your clothes are soaked, and he could see the outline of your bra from your thin shirt. But it seems like you don't even care.

"Let's just enjoy it!" You cry out. There are thick droplets stuck in between your eyelashes, and you smell like rain too. It's dangerous, he can see chords of purple lightning flash the sky, thunder booming, and it's like you're dancing, the way you move so effortlessly.

You hook his hands in yours, "Doesn't this feel good?"

He feels like all his sins are being washed away, all the impurities and muck that clung onto him after nineteen years of existence. His heart nearly jumps out of his throat every time he looks at you.

He cups your chin and kisses you. When he feels the threadbare resistance, he kisses harsher, tongue and teeth swallowing your protests, coaxing your mouth open with a skillful pinch to your nipple. He pulls away just before you feel like all your breath has been robbed.

You're stunned speechless, "Eren...I...h-have a boyf-"

He kisses you again. And this time you kiss back, holding nothing back.

taglist: @candy-hime @cinnamon-n-roses @forwardpair

inspo: @candy-hime's rich boy!shoto. the iconic golf club one <3

[hotwings0203]

now we need a part 4 with izuku and bakugo on what happens next to the poor reader 😩✋🏼

Aight imma do a two for one here so MASSIVE BET

Tw:noncon, gangbang

When your hand reaches the doorknob, you know something is off only half a millisecond before another large hand settles itself on your wrist and another one caressing your side.

You freeze immediately at the voices that croon and snarl to you.

“Open the door quietly and we don’t have to make this any more difficult than it’s already gonna be.”

“God, you smell so good. You still haven’t changed your shampoo even after all these weeks huh? I like it.”

Your hand starts to shake and your body starts to sweat as you wildly try to find a way out of this situation. The voices sound eerily familiar, with one being higher and the other more aggressive and raspy, but you don’t dare turn around to locate the faces.

One of them seems to be catching onto your hesitation, because your wrist is crushed underneath a hard grasp and you cry out softly as they growl.

“Open. This. Fucking. Door. Right now.”

It takes a good 15 more seconds to jimmy the lock open, and once you do all three of you go tumbling in.

You whip back around to see both men standing over you, merely watching you with crossed arms and equally perverse leers.

“D-deku? Bakugo? What’s going on?”

Deku practically bounces on the balls of his feet, itching with inappropriate anticipation for what’s to come.

“We wanted to play with you! Are you ready? You can’t fucking ignore me anymore!” His voice is cheery as always but it breaks when he curses, the strains in his vocal cords sticking out while he forces himself from holding back.

Bakugo steps forward.

“Didnt I tell you I was gonna come again for you, you teasing cunt? Didn’t I say to watch your back? Now look at you, sprawled on the floor like rapetoys should be.”

Both men start slowly uncrossing their arms and advance towards you.

“No-no please, why? I didn’t do anything to you! Deku, please!” You blubber as you scuttle backwards, their strides equally as long.

You continue evading them as they play around with you.

“Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words. ‘Deku, please.’ Although, I’d very much rather you moan it for me.” He has the audacity to blush, and then Bakugo interjects.

“You deserve this y’know, so don’t start crying now. We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet.” He spreads his hands and his uncharacteristic grin stretches from ear to ear, his vermillion eyes flashing in the dim light of your dorm.

“Anyone whose stupid enough to not realize how this creep has been sniffin’ your panties for months-hell, maybe even years now should get raped. You’re so fucking stupid, you didn’t realize I was protecting you from him.”

“But now look at you. Alone, afraid, vulnerable…oh, and going to the bedroom. You really are an easy slut, huh?”

Deku’s eyes light up when he realizes you truly are unknowingly backing up into the bedroom, but you realize it too late.

It’s only after Bakugo’s words come out that you try to look for a detour for the lock-induced bathroom, but Deku has a different idea.

Out of pure excitement he laughs and sprints towards you, hands outreached to touch your pretty skin, mouth open with drool softly filling the tile below him and eyes bloodshot with lust.

He looks like a creature from hell, and in the pure terror of watching him come at you like that your plan to detour was thwarted and you mindlessly trip back over your feet onto the bed, scrambling as far away as you can from them to the headboard.

You look to your left and quickly seize your bedside lamp, raising it above your head.

“Domt come any closer you closer perv. God, I shouldve known you were fucked in the head. I kept trying to make excuses for you, I thought you were my friend-“ you break down in sobs as the green haired man continues looking at you like you’re a piece of meat, absentmindedly wiping his hand across his mouth.

“And you,” you point to Bakugo who bares his teeth and smirks madly, “I already knew you were the embodiment of hell, but I thought you had a limit of how low you could stoop. You didn’t protect me from shit, you forced your way inside of me day in and day out.”

“Well now that your useless little monologue is over, Deku, tie her legs to the posts. I swear Y/N, you’re making this way too easy for me. It’s almost boring, I already know what I’m gonna get.” He raises his eyebrows at you while he lets his minion do all the work for him, goosebumps racing up his arm at the sight of you screaming and fighting tooth and nail against your fate.

But at the end of the day, after all your curses and sobs and monologues, you’re no match for either of them, especially Deku, who cooes at you to scream louder while he caresses your face and uses nylon string to secure your wrists to the wooden posts. Your legs are also bound after Bakugo seizes them from kicking, and a gag is placed over your mouth by his hands.

He roughly taps the tape covering your trembling lips and smiles condescendingly down at you.

“You’re doing so well for us, rapemeat. Keep up the good work and try to spread those legs as much as you can.” He chuckles when you scream your lungs out, thrashing as he yanks your knees apart.

“Aw, Kacchan, can’t we take the gag off? I wanted to hear her in my ears,” he pouts and looks glumly at your writhing figure.

“No, how fucked in the head are you? Someones gonna come down if she’s hollering for the whole building to hear. And cut her clothes off, I’m getting impatient.”

It seems like Deku too was at his last fiber of self control as his hands shake equally as much as yours, except for an entirely different reason altogether, the opposite reason of yours in fact.

He fishes in his back pockets for something, and produces a glinting steel knife with a black handle.

You still immediately as his descends his hands to the top of your v-neck shirt, right above your collarbones. His eyes fog up as your satiny smooth skin comes in contact with the blade, the coldness of the steel sending shivers down your spine and making you sob harder.

“Kacchan…did you ever get a taste of her blood? How does she taste?” He lifts his head to look into your tear-streaked eyes, but he addresses his childhood friend.

Bakugo snorts. “Calm down Toga, don’t get too crazy yet. We’ll have some more fun later, right now my dick is about to explode. ‘Need a hole,” he mumbles at the end and finally clambers onto the bed right atop your legs.

You stay absolutely silent as pressure from the knife rips the thin strands of your clothes apart, and Deku takes careful care to ensure you at least have thin red lines running down your stomach if not for actual blood.

“Oh fuckkkk,just look at her. You look good enough to eat…” he looks at you and licks his lips, salivating when you whine and twist at your restraints.

“Yeah yeah, you do whatever the fuck you want. Just choose what you’re gonna stick it in and hurry up.”

The blond looks bored almost as the more eager one whips to the side to face him.

“You mean it Kacchan? I can pick?”

They speak as if you’re not alive, no feelings or humanity involved. All you can do is watch and yell into your makeshift gag as the blond waves him off.

“Go for it. It’s your first time satisfying that sick head of yours, ‘must get boring doing it from behind a screen all the time.”

His slowly turns to face you, a kind leer etched across his features, eyebrows slanted and hand coming up to pull your ripped clothes apart.

You struggle and spit muffled profanities out as he slowly drags the bridge of your bra down, eyes wide open as your nipples pop out and eventually both of your tits bounce out.

He hisses and takes his nails up your stomach to fondle your breast. You can tell Deku’s too excited, too inexperienced from the way he handles them like stress balls. You grunt as his mouth latches onto a pert nipple, suckling and looking up at you as if he were some kind of demonic baby.

Bakugo watches all this with a dark glint in his eyes, absentmindedly palming himself as he watches the show unfold in front of him.

It’s entertaining seeing all of the creep’s hormones spiral out of control from years of pent-up lust. He’s never seen the dork so fired up and hungry, he’s never seen him so brutal with a civilian before, the type of people he used to say he’d protect at all costs.

After he’s done playing with your sore tits, he wasted no time in yanking your sweats off. You don’t even trash around anymore, the only thing you’re capable of in this state of terror and shock is weak moans and little sobs, maybe a writhe or two here and there.

Your panties are also torn off and you howl when the elastic cuts into your skin within the process. Bakugo takes this last stripping as an indication for him to move now. He lifts himself up on his knees and moves around your head while Deku situates himself between your violently twitching legs.

“I’m gonna take the gag out now. If you scream or pull any funny business I’ll plug your pussy and your throat with this knife, got it?” He snatches the weapon from the bed and waves it dangerously close to your face.

You nod frantically and try to turn your head to the side, but he yanks you back into place and decides to have his own fun.

While Izuku hurriedly takes his own shorts off the hothead slowly takes the tape off your mouth, staring down at you with unblinking eyes. The knife which you’re so afraid of is traced around your own squeezed shut eyes, down your cheeks and around your lips.

But the horrified trance on which he keeps you in is broken when Izuku suddenly shoved his entire length inside your dry cavern.

Luckily Bakugo has enough foresight to slam a hand over your howling mouth before the entire building can be woken up, and he glares at the sheepish-looking man down the bed from him.

“Are you a fucking virgin? At least rub her clit or something so she doesn’t go hollering at every thrust you damn nerd!”

The man between your legs winces and rubs the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

“Oops, sorry, got a little carried away there.”

He doesn’t pull out, he merely thrusts slower, trying to fit his fat dick inside your unwilling cunt.

A string of curses leaves your lips and you grimace as the pain becomes near blinding.

Bakugo looks down at you again, the knife forgotten.

“No teeth either.” Your breaths come out in little frantic pants when his bare cock springs out of his own pants.

He taps the leaking purple tip on your lips and you open hesitantly. There’s no point in resisting anymore, they’ve got you quite literally cornered.

“Wider, slut,” he snarls, and you do-but only because Deku’s paps get more aggressive, causing your mouth to fall open in a long whine.

The blond takes this opportunity to slam his length down your throat, groaning around when he sees your throat swell with his bulge.

You immediately start gagging and trying to pull at your restraints for air, his heavy balls rest right on top of your nose and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

You can barely hear him over Deku’s animalistic grunts and whines. He’s going way too fast, as if he’s possessed by your pussy. It numbs you, taking away some of the pain in a flip side.

But on the other end of your body, you’re desperate for air while a fuzzy ballsack paps against your nose and eyes.

Each sadistic stroke he puts inside of you widens your sore esophagus, bringing bile up sometimes and large amounts of saliva too.

He’s not as loud as Deku, but he’s equally as greedy with your holes.

Your body literally hovers up almost in midair as Bakugo thrusts in and lifts his hips up, taking your upper half along with it and Deku does the same unconsciously, trying to fuck up into your womb.

It’s an exact replica of a perverted spit roast, with both of them catching each other’s rhythm and slamming inside your holes at the same time.

Your clit is suddenly rubbed inexpertly to the point of overstimulation, and the incoming sob forced out of your throat warps into a pained scream.

The vibrations of your scream makes Bakugo cum suddenly with a hoarse groan. He doubled over your body and gnaws at your bouncing tits, licking and teething at them the same way his counterpart did.

The sight of copious amounts of cum being leaked out of your filled mouth propels the green-haired man to whimper and shove himself back in one more time, hitting your cervix and causing both his and your eyes to roll back.

He cums too, but both men keep their semi-hard cocks inside of your aching body.

You don’t know what’s worse, having both of them by your side or both of them inside.

[sweettodo]

Promiscuous.

⟿ Levi Ackerman x freader x Eren Jaeger

Includes : threesome, swearing, smut.

word count : 4,5k.

for 300 followers, i promised i would bless you all with a few stories. this was a tough plot to come up with b/c the age difference, but i always come thru :)). enjoy. thank you for 300 friends, readers, and fans. one more story on the way, hope you like !!

Being in the scouts wasn't necessarily all that bad, especially when you had all the strong, agile men to look at all day long.

You didn't bite your tongue, the gushy, teenage girl flirtatiousness that you bestowed upon not one, not two, but a good sum of the boys you worked and trained with every day. Most of whom were your closest friends, who put up with your promiscuousness. For the most part, they fed into it, reciprocating the behavior. But it couldn't be avoided that you took a special liking towards your Captain; Mr. Ackerman himself.

Call it unnatural, call it unusual, but you had a justification for liking him so much. If he said the right thing in the right context, your knees would be shaky and weak, for instance, when he demanded you to 'shut up' half-jokingly for fooling around with Connie too much. You left training that day with a waterfall between your legs, leaving you stunned for at least a week.

The ideas in your head were endless and slightly disturbing. There was no denying you were captivated by him, and he knew it.

Not to mention he took a fondness to you too...

Well, not how you quite anticipated him too. He just believed you were a capable scout, thus him taking you under his wing with your friends. Leaving aside your whorish comments. He took your ignorant attitude with a grain of salt, not allotting you the time of the day- which only made it more of a challenge to get what you yearned much for.

He would scoff, walk away and roll his eyes, reprimanding you on behaving yourself and acting your age. You were 19, you were acting your age, 'I could be worse,' you mumbled under your breath.

Being the species of girl who was drawn to a particular type of man, power play, that sharp attitude which one with a level head and a drop of common sense would take as a definite red flag, the type of man that would punish you for being horny or bratty- you could only dream- it was also clear you couldn't bluff and say that you didn't favor the infamous Eren Jaeger: the strong-willed, wild, dominant and overbearing youthful man. He could command you to get on your knees, and you would in a flash.

Alas, you would not be seeing the pearly gates with what went through your mind about the long-haired, tall, demanding man. On the plus side-unlike Levi- Eren enjoyed the attention you gave him, he played the game with you.

And he played the game good- you liked it.

On numerous occasions, you would be more than touchy with Eren, the little 'not so serious' back rub, or a hand on his thigh under the table to make him hot and bothered. And once or twice, the rare make-out session in an alleyway while your friends shopped or by the stable of horses one time when you were sixteen. Though the sexual tension grew once you turned eighteen when you two were less apt to get in trouble for your conduct- yet you never took it all the way, liking the idea of having him on his toes every time he saw you.

Anyways, today was different than most days, you all were honored with a few days of relaxing, sleeping in, and extra time to eat and shower with no training, or missions.

Appreciating the peace, you lay in your bed buried under the blankets half asleep, taking in the unusual time of relaxation. While nearing slumber again, you're rudely interrupted. A pounding on your door riddles throughout your body, frightening you half to death, you flinch, sitting up in an instant.

"Food! y/n." oh, it was Connie.

You untangle from the blankets, sauntering to your wardrobe, and pulling out a regular old white shirt with shorts. The heat was not something to take lightly around here, you could collapse and suffer from a heat stroke if you weren't careful, so you rolled up your shorts a little and slipped on shoes, taming your hair and heading out of your messy room towards the mess hall, eyes finding your friends and groggily plunging into the bench besides Eren and your other buddies, "sleep well?" Connie laughs, you scowl at him.

"Yea! I was dreamin' about you too! Too bad you ruined it, I was just getting to the good part."

Connie laughs and shakes his head, shoveling food down into his mouth, "I don't even wanna know what that dream was about." Jean grumbles, ruffling his hair to remove it from his clammy forehead; Jean was a difficult one to crack, he usually blushed and would cut your trifling demeanor right off at the knees, he was more for Mikasa's quiet and ethical personality.

"Shut it Kirstein- I do!" Connie protests, you wink at him.

"I'll tell you when I get you alone, how 'bout that Springer?"

Eren could be heard from your left, snorting, you glance over and see his arm raise and head towards your back, yanking your bra and snapping it back against your skin, you unleash an 'ouch' and attempt to reach back and rub the area, "White shirt with a red bra underneath? Who're you tryna' impress?" You shrug.

"Captain, of course."

"More like you dressed in the dark this morning." Eren bullies.

"Captain, what?" Connie and Sasha childishly roll and bounce around in their seats, bellowing laughter while you slowly turn around to face your boss, he reiterates one more time before you chuckle and scratch the back of your neck.

"Talking about how good my boss looks today," the words that roll off your tongue make The tense up and sigh in annoyance, beginning to walk away, you pout, tilting your head, "am I wrong?"

"Keep it up, y/n, I'll have you in a cell indefinitely if you continue this adolescent behavior." He doesn't look twice at you, leaving as quickly as he came. Halting your comments right as they came flying out of your mouth, he had to have been enjoying them! Perhaps a little.

Right as the man in charge begins to leave the hall, he stops, peers his head over to meet your eyes.

"-In chains." Your eyes widen, a perverted grin growing onto your face, looking left to right baffled, 'in chains?' gawking to see if any of your friends noticed the innuendo, but it seemed they were well absorbed in their own business.

But someone heard him.

"In chains?"

You look at Eren, he shared the same shock as you, you wriggle your eyebrows and nudge his side, "I'm not the only one who heard it, so maybe I'm not going crazy." You giggle, finishing your meal and gossiping amongst your friends until it was time to go.

To pass time during the day, you all wasted hours cleaning up to your captain's expectations, finally relieving yourselves for the rest of the evening before dinner; walking down the streets of your town, stopping at the shops down the gravel streets. While everyone talks, your head is elsewhere; replaying that remark Levi made about the chains, borderline obsessing over it- rightfully so.

When he said the word 'chains', you instantly recalled the context behind his innuendo, unless you were going insane, but you had made a joke- your first endeavor at flirting with your boss, mentioning to him using the same chains he used on Eren in court a few years back, your friends condemning your extraverted behavior on the spot; when to no avail, Levi did not feed into that well, sending you to isolation shortly after. And then to Erwin's office to explain yourself... in front of him, Commander Hange, and Levi. Nonetheless, it didn't stop you from toying with the man.

You were somewhat... wild.

Enjoying the rest of your stress-free hours, you spend the evening sitting comfortably in the large common area after dinner; all of you except Eren, who didn't appear at dinner either. God knows where he was.

You lounge beside Armin and Jean, your head on Jean's shoulder per-usual.

"Jean, has Mikasa told you how good you look today?" You hum, his face is instantly soaked up in a rosy flush as he throws his hands over his ears to block your weird comments from reaching his ears, "Mikasa?" you quirk an eyebrow.

"Don't be absurd, y/n" she laughs, "Jean, don't listen to her."

"Jean, you look extra good today," you lean over closer to him, "just thought I'd tell ya'."

"Yeah, yeah." He cracks a small smile, you pat his shoulder then fall back into your seat.

"Awh- c'mon Kirstein, you know I-"

"Y/n, Captain needs to see you..." Eren's voice interrupts the chatting, his head peers into the room, you and your friends falling silent.

"You're probably in trouble again." Armin sighs disappointingly. You promptly stand, "good luck." dragging your feet towards your supposed 'escort', Meeting Eren at the door frame of the corridor, his hands stuffed in his pockets with a deadpan look, watching you begin to take lead ahead of him, "how do you know Levi wants to see me?" You question, examining him whilst walking through the hallways, up the stairs, and around the corner, a few feet away from your Captain's headquarters.

"We talked."

With an uncertain look on your face, churning with turmoil, Eren is knocking once, then twice before pushing open the engraved wooden door, 'Captain didn't even ask who it was at the door-' you furrow your eyebrows, his hand on your back, quickly whisking you into the large room, abruptly stopping in front of his desk.

Your feet are glued to the floor while Eren is closing the door. Levi stands there, propped up against his desk with his arms crossed. The room was eerily silent, you were becoming slightly intimidated. Do you stand? Talk? Sit?

The silence was unbearable.

"Do you need me-"

"I'm fed up, with your manner, cadet." Levi interrupts.

"If I may- Captain," He nods for you to proceed, "why is Eren here?" Captain was very much capable of taking care of reprimanding you on his own, you were almost irritated that Eren was lingering behind you, feeling his eyes burning voids in the back of your head, disrespectfully.

"Isn't that what you want?" Eyes doubling in size, you swerve your head to attempt and get a view of Eren, but Levi halts you once more, treading closer to you so you can look at him, "you don't need to look at Eren."

"I- I don't quite understand."

No one says anything. The air is now thick, more difficult to swallow for oxygen, you were entirely thrown off track with the way he was speaking to you, the way he was looking at you made you want to make a run for it, "Cat got your tongue? Y/n?" Chills rake up and down your body when you feel Eren's breath on your neck, sending your head flying behind you to see the blue-eyed devil almost pressed against your back, you look back at Levi frantically.

"Sit."

Without pause, your ass is planted into one of his chairs, "why aren't you being stubborn? Where's that attitude that constantly gets you into trouble?" Feeling as if you're shrinking, the two men are overlooking you, "go on."

"I- well,"

"She has nothing to say for herself, Cap." Eren looks at Levi, "told you she was all talk." He jabs, were you dreaming?

Your heart thumped out of your chest, you never dreamed of Levi taking it this far, especially when he was so professional... "y/n," Levi's finger touches underneath your chin, raising your head to look at the two men, "always teasing me when you do the same to Eren, so slutty, don't you think, cadet?"

Your mouth drops open at his use of words, finally- the game caught up to you, and you were facing the repercussions, "don't be all shy now."

"I'm not-"

"Then if you're not shy, get on your knees and show us how much you’ve wanted us.”

You hesitate to move, but eventually find yourself slowly sliding out of the chair and onto your knees, "not in my office, go in my room." Eren grabs your arm, walking towards his adjoining room, Levi opens the door and permits you to be ushered in by both him and Eren; Eren grabs you by the hair and directs you back onto your knees in front of your captain's bed, "she's so compliant now that she knows we aren't joking anymore," Levi scoffs, standing behind you while Eren is unbuttoning his jeans right in front of your eyes, a combination of anxiousness and warmth growing in the pit of your gut, looking up at him through your eyelashes, licking across your bottom lip hungrily.

"Be a good girl and open for Eren," Levi bunches up your hair from behind, removing it from around your face.

"Yes sir."

Sticking out your tongue, you try to relax your throat once seeing the size of the man, Levi's grip on your hair prevents you from getting a good look at it before his cock is nudging gently into your mouth, down your tongue, and to the back of your throat, fastening your lips around the base of his cock whilst swirling your tongue when he pulls out of your throat, groaning when your tongue works him with ease.

"So good," He hums, grabbing the sides of your face, Levi drops your hair from his hold so Eren can pick up his pace, using his hands to guide you; gagging and choking while he fucks your throat, saliva dripping down your chin, at the verge of tears, you take his length as far as you can manage. Eren grunting and huffing; only throbbing more when he sees the little tears drip down your cheeks. He heaves out of you, your tongue lolled out while strings of spit follow his cock, the men are astonished at the sight of you gasping for air, but they weren't going to tell you that.

"Are you gonna be good for me and our captain, princess?" Eren crouches down to meet your eyes, clever smile on his face, you nod and he stands you up by your armpit.

You had virtually no control over yourself, they were moving you to where they saw fit; right on your hands and knees into the soft plush sheets, "what do you want, y/n?" you listen from behind you, your head is yanked backward, Levi is there, his free hand wrapped around your jugular loosely, his shirt unbuttoned.

"I want you both to fuck me," you gasp out, they both snicker at you.

"Too easy, way too easy, such a fuckin' whore, imagine wanting both of us," Eren taunts, snatching your shorts down to your knees and lifting your shirt to grab onto the thin waistband of your underwear, "you want Jean to fuck you too? Got any other favorites?" Levi shoves you back onto the mattress, your arms catching you while Levi continues to remove your shorts from your knees, tossing them on the floor, rough hands caressing and pulling apart your ass, both men watch your panties slip in the separated cave of your ass, Eren pulling off your shirt and unclasping your bra.

"N-o, only you guys."

"Who do you want more? Me or your other little fucktoy?" Levi sneers, moving to your front, once again lifting you by your chin, keeping you still while Eren rubs his fingers against the soaked cloth. Pulling upwards against your cunt, the pressure making your clit spasm and scream for the touch of his actual fingers, looking desperate and hungry at your captain.

"I- I can't choose."

Your chest rising and falling, Eren is finally relieving you from your panties, fingers instantly meeting your folds and slipping past your entrance with his two fingers, you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your head, knuckles curving downwards to hook into you and find your sweet spots.

"Well aren't you lucky, you get both of us, even though you don't deserve it," Your captain smirks, getting on his knees, fiddling with the button of his slacks, zipping them down and pushing them past his thighs, "I think she needs to beg for it." He looks at Eren, his erection making itself known from beneath his boxers, fingers quickly scissoring the roots of your hair while he frees himself from his constraints.

"I wanna be your slut- please make me cum." They smile, pleased with your submissiveness.

Cock spilling with precum, he scooches towards your salivating mouth and holds your level to his cock, centimeters away, "so fuckin' wet, can't say I'm surprised you get off to this." Eren's tip rubbing between your folds, collecting the slick that was seeping from your hungry pussy. He pushes into you while Levi is pushing into your mouth, both holes becoming occupied by their pulsating cocks; they longed to fill you up, the torturous teasing you put them through the second you turned eighteen was bound to make them snap- you didn't know what you expected, to be honest, you asked for this.

Eren fucks you slow, savoring the feeling of you clench and suck him in further, pussy stretching from the sheer size of him, veins from the base of his cock hitting and rubbing against the very nerves that were screaming for him to go faster.

Levi fucks deep into your throat, he was about Eren's size, perhaps a little thinner, but he was no match for your throat, choking up the spit from past your throat to lube his cock further. You bring your hand up to assist you, twisting your hand back and forth- up and down while you stimulated his sensitive tip with your tongue, hollowing out your cheeks to suck him back in and repeat.

He was becoming unkempt, his mouth ajar with little moans slipping past his lips, hair dangling in front of the sides of his face while his hips bucked back and forth into the depths of your cave.

"My God, so wet."

You moaned against Levi's cock, Eren speeding up and reaching your cervix, your juices slushing and pussy squeaking while he stretches you out. When his hips connected to your backside, you only want to shrivel up more from the pace he was hitting the hole of your tight cervix. Initially, it hurt, but almost instantly it began to feel pleasurable for both you and Eren, he was reaching great lengths inside of you. He's always wanted to fuck you; almost disappointed in himself that he didn't do this before.

"Taking me so well, I can barely fit," he grunts, "you like my cock y/n? Isn't this what you wanted with your bullshit teasing?" he smacks your ass, crying out, his hips jutting back and forth against you mercilessly, sending jolts into every bone of your body.

He slaps you again, your right ass cheeks burning and tingling from the strength of his slap, "fuckin' slut, better be quiet."

Levi pulls out of your throat, finally able to audible out the loud weeps and cries, he throws his hand over your mouth, "shut up before you get us caught."

"Fuck, Eren!" you wail, ignoring Levis commands, gasps and moans fly around the room, his cock filling you perfectly to the point where you felt like you were made to shape him.

"Open." his hand is forcing your jaw open, sticking your panties into your mouth to silence you. You cry into the fabric, the coil twirling up in your stomach, clenching your walls while he drills into you, his cock rubbing against your g-spot, sending you into a frenzy.

Levi fists his cock for the time being while Eren is chasing his orgasm, knocking into you- inching you towards your orgasm. The back of your head tingling, your pussy twitching, and your stomach tightening, the room spiraling around you while you drop your head into the mattress, eyes screwed shut; Eren tearing an earth-shattering orgasm out of your body.

You see stars and a bright white consumes you, hands reaching to grasp anything, finding Levi's bicep and digging your nails into his skin for support while Eren's cock bathes in your cum, his hands pressing into the small of your back, "'boutta cum, right in this pretty little pussy." He spits, pinning your back to a better arch, you cry into the sheets when Erens thrusts loosen a little, sporadic and stabbing thrusts until he's panting and dumping a large load of his seed into your cunt, letting out moans and swears of approval. Your body convulsing, wanting to collapse.

Erin's lightheaded, dizzy and sweating, little bangs and baby hairs sticking to his soaked face, watching your cum drip down your thighs, the wetness from your pussy which had soaked his stomach, it was a fucking mess.

Everywhere.

He pulls out of you, your cream coating his cock; snatching a shirt and wiping himself clean, hiking up his boxers, "you're not done. On your back, now."

Without warning nor regard, you're pushed forward into Levi's hands by Eren to get you moving quicker; you slide onto your back, Levi takes charge and steps off the bed, hauling you by the thighs until you're at the edge of the bed, Levi pressing his hands under your thighs, holding them up and letting his cock slap against your cum-filled cunt, biting onto his bottom lip, teasing his cock into you.

He leans down, taking out the pair of underwear from your mouth, "keep quiet, understood?"

Quickly nodding and bracing yourself, happy to feel warm again.

"Did Eren fill you good?" he asks calmly, you nod.

"Yes- Levi."

Levi halts mid-thrust, peeved look on his face, "yes what, y/n?" you swallow hard, throat dry from the cloth.

"Y-yes Captain, he did." You mewl, he nods once before finishing his thrust.

"This pussy is so tight, even after he stretched you out like this?" he huffs, head dipped down- eyes filed to your pussy sucking in his cock so well; hair flopping back and forth, "I told you I was gonna do something about that mouth of yours, didn't I?"

"Y-you did, sir." You wail.

Levi didn't hold back, each of his sharp thrusts made you more tender inside, little cries fall from your swollen lips while Eren sits beside your head, big arm reaching over your face and kneading your boob, he watches them bounce slightly as Levi ruts into you. Rolling your hard erected nipple in between his fingers, "look at that face, are you gonna cum again?" you look up at Eren, who wears a smug look on his face, "are you gonna cum on Captain's cock, y/n?" you whine, trying to remain quieter under your Captain's directions.

"Gonna-" Eren's hand moves once more- over towards your clit.

This was the first time tonight you had felt this overstimulation, hissing in air and biting onto the skin of your lip, hand grasping Eren's wrist as he swirls little- yet strong circles into your clit, your mouth slacks open, “please! Feels so-" another burst of spasms erupting, thighs shaking and clenching around Levi's waist, "f-fuck me- Fuck me harder Captain, please!" You cry, walls convulsing, cum seeping out of you, down your ass and the base of his cock while he fucks you silly, Eren bringing you that much closer to a euphoric feeling again as he rubs your spasming clit.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you like the whore you are, right?" Levi pants, cockhead rubbing against your sensitive and exhausted g-spot.

"Who can fuck you better?" Unable to audible, Eren moves faster around your num.

"Don't disobey our Captain, pretty girl- use your words." Screwing your eyes shut, the two men await your answer.

"I-I don't know- Ah!" Your back arches, core tightening for the second time tonight- body shaking as the following orgasm sends you over the moon, Eren's hand smacked over your mouth, you wail into his hand, Levi pins your legs open, leaning down to fuck into you harder, thrashing into your guts, pussy gushing around him until he is groaning and throwing his head back while he slams into you, his stomach nearly slapping against Eren's fingers, his dick twitching. His cheeks rosy and his muscles flexed.

"Fuck, so good- so tight- keep squeezing-" he breathes.

You're dazed from the rocking of his hips, he slows, catching his breath while he releases, coating your bruised walls with his cum. Your body left empty and quivering as Levi is slipping out of your cunt, Eren handing him the same shirt he used to wipe himself off with; your captain retrieving it and cleaning the amount of cum that was left on his softening dick, moving to you and carefully wiping the inside of your thighs and beaten cunt.

Catching your breath, Levi is picking his boxers up from the floor and pulling them up along with his pants, “don’t stay there forever, my sheets need to be switched.” He states, Eren reaches for your hand and helps you sit up, putting his shirt over your head and you slip through the arms, feet meeting the cold wooden floor, you attempt to stand, your knees buckling, Eren grabs you by the tricep before you land on the floor and sits you back on the bed.

“I think it would look suspicious if I carried you out of here, can you walk?”

You nod, “yeah.”

Standing again, you're able to succeed, reaching for your underwear, Eren already had it swinging around his index finger, “I’ll hold onto these.”

With no willpower to object, you just pull up your shorts and pick up your shoes.

“Walk her back, Jaeger, don't do anything stupid.”

You and Eren both leave your Captain’s office quietly, the hall empty and empty, you and he slowly walk back, you laughed at the thought about how it would be a tough one to explain why Eren was shirtless and you were- quite obviously- wearing his shirt while he holds your stained shirt in his hand.

With great luck, you and he make it without running into anyone, reaching your door, you and him enter and you shut the door behind him.

“Here’s your shirt.”

He watches you as you throw off his shirt, tossing it to him and opening a drawer, and grabbing one of your own.

Before you realize it.

“Uhm, Eren, I forgot my bra.” Glancing down at your bare chest, Eren shrugs it off and laughs.

“Captain wanted to keep something too, princess.”

[yanderenightmare]

Can you write some more about nice guy jock kiri? Please and thank you. Have a good day!

yandere ! KIRISHIMA EIJIRO - RED RIOT

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, suggestive language, manipulation, coercion

THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY

He said she could pick the movie this time.

He said she could pick out any movie at all. Whatever she wanted, they were going to watch. Yet in the time she’d spent making lunch, Kirishima sprawled lazily in her bed, browsing half-mindedly, eyes sliding from viewing the screen to looking at her round grabbable ass dancing as she padded about the small kitchen, begging for him to come pinch as she put the stir-fry in bowls and walked over to plot herself down next to the muscly block of man, he’d already picked a movie, far away from something she’d choose, though when eyeing what puppy-dog look he gave her, she couldn't very well say no.

Kirishima has always been clingy. She wouldn't like to call it suffocating, or controlling, though it does border on the word. But she cannot blame him for being handsy and suggestive when they’re alone, in her apartment, in her bed. He’s always been needy, always touching her, so very big-hearted and forward, easily distracted, easily discarding of tasks in favor of doing what new activity calls for his attention, like a dog.

She was becoming quite used to his confident nature, how hap-hazardously he would go about touching her, kissing and licking at her the way he so often went about doing, so much so it was strange to think that they hadn't ever actually slept together.

They had been dating for a couple weeks, and Kirishima was clear about his intentions and aspirations and wants and needs from the start, being a very open honest person, but she couldn't help but feel as though he was pushing her, nudging her, guilt-tripping her with candid words of how horny he was because of her, how frustrated he was, how frigid, how it was effecting his schoolwork, how good a boyfriend he was for waiting, for being patient and tolerant, how she couldn't blame him for wanting something in return, even though that something was a thing she wasn't ready to give him.

It would be wrong if she said he didn't respect her wishes, because he had, albeit begrudgingly. Each time she invited him over, or... he invited himself over,  when he became rowdy, it would always take a good amount of bargaining and persuasion on her side, which was always met with even more coaxing and encouragement from him. How he would message his hand into the inside of her thigh, and she would push ever so gently to keep him at bay until he finally laid off, the mood stiff and awkward as he left her apartment to walk to his own place, alone, with a rejected boner he would have to take care of alone, then go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. He had still respected her wish in the end, or... maybe not respected, but at least accepted it.

She hadn't picked out the movie, and it being something she hadn't really invested very much thought into, she didn't try and stop him from nuzzling into her neck, kissing and sucking on the tender flesh found there. She allowed him to lift her shirt up to rub circles into her stomach with his warm roughened hand, let him grab and grope and mold her breast through the fabric of her bra, let him swing his leg over her body, to lock her position beneath him and his brawny heavy frame as he cuddled into her.

She could already feel the stiff bulge bump into her thigh, tried to forgive him for always riling himself up when he knows what her answer’s going to be, knows how she isn't ready to give him what he wants. Hearing his breathing picking up, becoming rugged and raspy, hot against her neck as he tried humping into her, having rolled and positioned and handled both their bodies so he could lie between her thighs, face mushed into the soft skin of her neck, nipping at her collarbones , spiky hair poking into the underside of her chin, hands abrasive when squeezing at the flesh of her ass and thighs, gripping them to lock around his torso, venturing to grab at her waist and breasts, becoming more and more frenzied, more and more rugged, forgetting his strength, forgetting her protests, getting more and more carried away.

She jolted once she felt his fingers hook into the band of her panties, having slipped up her skirt and spidered playfully up her thigh. She grabbed his arms loosely, small hands obviously not able to wrap around the thickness of his muscles, though applying what strength she deemed necessary to make him take her seriously, lightly digging her fingernails into his skin. “Uhm, Kiri-” She squeaked unsurely, breaching the shapeless noisy silence of heavy breathing and rugged groans and building growls that had filled the room, movie still quietly playing in the background, white noise completely ignored by the burning of her ears.

“Come on, let me feel.” He purred into her ear, giving her lobe a nibble. 

“Uhm, I don't think-” She shoved at him, balls of her feet digging into the mattress, trying to sit up.

He laid his weight down on her, immobilizing her movement, keeping her under him. “Come on...” He drawled, voice rumbling. “Please?” Mumbling into her skin, knowing how it always makes her giggle from the tickle by the light scruff on his chin, knowing it makes her sweet and pliable. “Pretty please? It’ll feel good, I promise.” 

He didn't really wait for any response, his face mushed into her neck, seeming cute as he pleaded but also acting as a great trap, his hand succeeded in pushing her panties aside, warm worn fingers, foreignly larger cuddled with the sensitivity kept there. His breath shuddered, lips spreading into a toothy grin against her neck, so wide she could feel it. 

“Aww.” He moaned. “That’s so warm and wet.” She cringed, but hadn't the time to tell him to stop, hadn't the time to decide that she valued her limits more than maintaining the good vibe, and then she hadn't the mind to really think about it at all, too preoccupied with wrapping her thoughts around the fact that Eijiro had just pushed one thick knuckled finger inside her, roughly at that, pumped it in, stuffed her with it, with an equally chaffed thumb-pad laying heavy pressure down into her little beading clit.

It would probably have felt awful, the brutish boyish clumsy inconsiderate rubbing, but having him dry-hump into her for the better half of the entire movie made for a little messy spill between her thighs, perfectly ready to make whatever rough movement he gave seem like God’s touch, enough to have her moan at once.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, cocky undertone almost completely smoked out by livid lust, his arousal so very clear in his voice as he removed his weight when feeling her body melt and comply to what his hand was giving her of bliss. His large muscly frame rising to kneel between her legs, having her thighs hiked up and spread atop of his, forehead resting against hers. She bobbed her head in a series of quick sporadic nods, teeth biting harshly into her lip as she watched with a bowed head his finger disappear in and out the vulnerable sensitivity found between her spread thighs, the smell of beer on his heavy hot breaths fan over her face before he kissed her head. “You wanna cum?” She gave a moan, indicating an unspoken yes as he rubbed his thumb over and over her tender pearl, pushing another one of his long fingers inside her, making her gasp out a moan, mewing as he curled and scissored the two digits inside her, making her inevitable unraveling arrive much quicker.

He wiped his sticky hand on his pant leg with a small smug smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, watching as her head fell back to rest against the pillow again, beginning to unbutton his jeans. 

The sound of him sliding down his zipper pulled her focus back, eyelids fluttering open just in time to watch him pull his throbbing hard erection out with a sigh. And though the red-head had gone about the reveal in an unceremonious manner, whether it was out of lack of showmanship or Kirishima deeming it unnecessary, it didn't really matter to the virgin beneath him. She took one look and she wasn’t able to look away. A surprising black bush drew her focus at first, what more the two easter-eggs that seemed to be nestling there, but not before long her eyes felt the need to follow what bulging pumping purple vein ran up the underside of the thickness, almost like a spine, or a pin that reached up to a red-blushed head, glossed like a candy-apple, with a slit running though it and a spill of pre-cum dripping down to disappear in the dark forest below.

She could swear it sized up to her whole arm’s-length.

Her eyebrows knitted as she continued eyeing the hard pole, watching it bob with strength, straining against his stomach, standing proudly on it’s own as he lifted his shirt off his arms and shoulders, throwing it to the floor, revealing what mouthwatering washboard rock-hard abs he kept beneath. 

His hand once again reached out, this time to grab her wrist, guiding her shaking hand back to his thick member, watching her hesitate to wrap her delicate little fingers around his length once he squeezed her wrist too hard in impatience, seeing her bite her lip at the feel of the almost rubbery-smooth texture of his length in her palm, warm to the touch. His larger hand wrapped around her smaller one, guiding the movement as he started pumping up and down.

He groaned, head hung and resting atop her shoulder where he knelt with her sitting form in his lap, red eyes with wide pupils locked on watching her small hand loosely holding onto him, his cock looking so unbelievably huge in her tiny grasp, like some beast, where the more he thought about it and the more he looked, it was big compared to all of her, he could only imagine what she was thinking as she eyed his length with that cute childish level of curiosity and sweet tinge of virgin anxiety. She needed to bite her lip to prevent it from trembling, wanting to squeeze her thighs shut when they too became unruly, wanting to protect what was kept between them.

It only made his cock throb even harder.

“I- fuck-” He grunted, thrusting shallowly up into her hand by angling his hips up, looking down upon her enticing pretty silken dew-kissed heat, his finger greedily reaching to touch the tender entrance only to hear her whimper out a small whine at once when his rough digits brazenly made contact. “You’re so shy, it’s adorable.” 

The loosely given hand-job felt good around his priorly ignored arousal, what with how sensitive he was, but was missing what her pussy was welcomingly dripping with. 

He lowered himself, hand grabbing his base to steady the attack, yet was declined by her placing her own hand in front of the poor unsuspecting virgin tightness. “Uhm, Kiri- I-”

He shushed at her, prying her hand easily away, replacing it with his own, rubbing those electrical patterns he did before into her pretty budding pearl. “No, no, Baby. Come on. Pretty please, it’ll feel so good, I’ll be gentle okay? It’ll be good, I promise.” He swirled his thumb over her clit, an act far from gentle, though sending those sharp involuntary spikes of pleasure into her core, giving to something pooling in her stomach, something warm and sticky and heavier than before, almost burdening with how it strained in the muscles of her thighs, making her shake beneath the man’s mere thumb. “I love you, Baby, don't you want us to take the next step?”

“Uhm...” She gasped as he abused the sensitivity under his course strength.

“Thank you, Baby.” He purred, lips carved into a smile fit for devouring, planting kisses down her face and into her neck, his cock pushing into the velvet folds.

But she backed up, balls of her feet pushing into the mattress, her palms doing the same, but Kirishima had other plans, none of them including letting her up.

“Kiri, no-” She pushed lightly at his chest then, as she’d done before, trying to soothe and smooth over the feathers she’d ruffled, trying ever so gently in those small soft caresses to apologize for having riled him up so.

But seems this time he wouldn't have that either, her hands cupped and pulled rather dismissively out of the way, dominated by his own and how he intertwined his digits, raking them in with her dainty ones, locking their hands, or rather securing hers, before pushing them flat into the sheets beside her, giving him full access to what lied beneath him without her bothersome fists getting in his way. “Come on, Babe... stop being a little tease...” Her hands slipped their confinements in his as he rather needed them to manage her body, felt that twitching itch to grab and grope and tug and pull at all her doughy flesh. She gasped as he groped a mans handful of her ass, bumping his bare cock into her, rubbing it up and over her pussy, bobbing between their stomachs.

His face was still so adamant on nibbling at the flesh of her collar, leaving what she knew to be ugly swelling purple stains that turned into those vile green and yellow marks looking like fungus blooming on her skin. “I’m sorry-” It was all too much to have his warm skin pressed against her, his naked hardness, all of him, his rough hands, his brutish needle-sharp teeth, that thing that poked at her, humped into her where he’d made a sticky wet hot mess, with her underwear put somewhere out of sight and most definitely out of reach. “I’m not ready to-” Her hands tried softly but with increasing effort at getting him off, trying to get her discomfort across to the seemingly clueless baboon who was handling her body to his own selfish ends on top of her. 

“It’s fine.” His voice was heated, soft despite trodding over her own, as he tried calming her down, again with his hands tugging at her wrists and pushing the annoying things away from him, again so he could lie himself down on top of her. “We’ll try something-” His efforts at soothing her weren’t appreciated by the girl beneath as she continued pushing, bordering on thrashing beneath the giant red-head.

“Kiri, stop. ” There was an edge to her voice this time, an edge he didn’t appreciate.

Large hand wrapped their fingers around her wrist and crushed it with a strength she couldn't hope to match, a dark chuckle following, rumbling just beside her ear alongside a small smile carving his lips at the cute pop of bones followed by her whimper. “Stop being so difficult, Babe.” He chastised, voice dismissive and completely unbothered by her spiked struggles, treating her reluctance like it was nothing but a minor inconvenience he could simply swat away like a fly. “I know you’ll like it, you just need to-”

“I don’t need to do anything!” She cried now, adorable small whines as she tried prying her hand out of his hold. “Get off me!”

“Kinda feels like you’re trying to piss me off here.” His tone darkened, and so did the look in his eyes, and though she was just short of bawling with the lump  of hopelessness and fear caught stuck in her throat, the adrenaline gave her such a rush of confidence as her leg finally managed to shuffle under his, allowing her to knee him right in that swelled thick slug he was so transfixed on appeasing.

And though she managed briefly to slip out from beneath him, it was no victory, and she felt that ounce of triumph that fluttered in her heart snuff out at the feel of his brawny taunt and rock hard arms wrap around her torso, hoisting her off the ground, only to throw her right back where she’d been laying not moments ago.

“Please, Eijirou, please, you're scaring me, stop.” She kicked now, flopping beneath him like a fish hauled up on a boat, tried prying her hands out of his grasp yet couldn't stop him from holding her down, rolling her on her stomach while he pulled off his uniform necktie, bending her arms behind her back and tightening the noose around her wrists, pulling the tail between them to secure the knot tightly, before rolling her back with her hands being crushed beneath her.

Her face reappeared tear-slicked and panicked. “There we go, all pretty and perfect for me.” He lightly tapped her face as he stuffed her mouth with the panties he fished back up from his pockets, settling between her legs again as she whined through the make-shift gag.

Rough course hand, like sandpaper, like rock, slid down between her thighs, slowly in their venture, pushing and kneading into the softness, hungry as they groped and pushed her open, wrapped her around his torso so he could slap his rock-solid cock onto her vulnerable little opening.

“Let me paint a picture for you, Babe.” He started, catching her attention. 

Her eyes so unbelievably wide as she looked up at him through the thick hazy ominous darkness of the room, a darkness that once seemed so cozy now so overwhelming, the sun having gone down, the TV turned to black, the lights left off and the only glimmer coming from the streetlights and the dim white glow of the moon shining in through her window, leaving Kirishima’s sharp teeth to hang above her and how they seemed to drip, eerie shadows cast upon his face, eyes red and hazy, drooped to slits, drunk and cocky as he continued rubbing his cockhead up through the lips of her pussy ever so causally, like she wasn’t bound and bawling beneath him. 

“So listen up and listen carefully. Can you do that, Babe?” 

She felt cold suddenly, chilled to her core by his tone, reduced to shivering beneath his confident touch, shuddering where she laid, chest pushed upward above the support her arms gave, head drawing in the dune of her pillow, thighs lifted to straddle her boyfriend’s waist, his hand keeping her there by curling his thumb into the underside of her knee. 

“The way I see it, you have two options.” He leaned in, voice sturdy but soft like a straight-jacket. “Either you be my good girl and give me what’s mine.” Tone swooping low into a growl. “Or...” 

His hands moved steadily as they began unbuttoning her shirt from the bottom up, planting a kiss on the newly exposed skin of her tummy, just short of her belly-button. The light scruff of his chin tickling the thin skin it rubbed against as he continued licking and nibbling on the flesh the more it was exposed to him. 

“You run along to your friends, tell them what a bad bad guy I am. They ask for proof, but silly little you have no proof to give.” He chuckled, warm breath breezed on the peach-fuzz of her chest as he kept sucking his marks into her, hands fingering the last of her buttons. “People love me, Buttercup, so let me ask you this...” The crimson spikes of his hair stuck into the underside of her chin as he licked up her throat, kissed her jaw and bit at her earlobe, whispering. “Who’s side you think they gonna take?” Humming as he watched another fat tear run down her cheek. “You go to the teachers, they ask for proof, something you still don’t have because there is none. And even if they did believe you... no saying they’d do anything about it. I’m destined to be a billboard hero. Do you really think they’ll throw all that away on some ditz from general studies?” Question after question, answer after answer, each one another stab and twist of the rusty blade in her hope. “Think again.” With her shirt open she witnessed him morph his hand into sharp rock, a jagged finger burrowing beneath the bridge of her bra and cutting the thick fabric loose, now fully exposed to his mouthful of teeth and slobbering tongue. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s not how the world works, Sweetheart.” 

She closed her eyes, clamped them shut, but it only helped her feel all his entitled actions even more, how he moved, rightfully, regardlessly, without regret or remorse. She swore she could feel him pulsating against her, his cock pumping against her swollen clit, where she could argue that the rip of him tearing apart her skirt was the loudest noise she’d ever heard in her life. 

“And perhaps it ends there, but I know you. You continue, trying to make anyone believe you, eventually ending up in management for crazy obsessed fanatic fangirls -of which I have many- or you give up.” His mouth enclosed her nipple, tongue swirling around the bud, fingers tweaking the other breast with boyish greediness. “Either way, you end up missing. With no friends to bother coming to find you, thinking that your delusional ass offed yourself, when in reality...” 

Large hand curling around her neck, squeezing as he rose to look down at her, rock his hips to allow his cock more friction, sliding up and down between her thighs, bobbing against her stomach, thrumming and spilling thick whiteness, dripping and smearing onto her skin. 

“You’re right back here with me.” 

Her heart skipped, seemed to stop, everything seemed to stop. His words hung poised, forgetting how to drop, like dust settling, lingering about the air as she looked up at him, thinking he looked like the onset of hell, like a demon, his hair like horns, his eyes like hellfire, and those teeth, those sharp unforgiving teeth. 

“You see, if you don’t give, I will take.” He juggled her head with the tight grip he had on her jaw, playing with her as his other hand swept through her delicate sensitive folds, made her cringe, try and shimmy away, all to his disgusting amusement shown in the snaggletooth that hooked over his lip as he smirked a grim curled line. “And right now it looks to me like I might just have to show you just how defenseless you are to stop me.” His digits wiggled inside her, and she whined into her panties as she sucked on them, her eyes clinging to the dangerous heat simmering inside his. “Aww see? You’re already getting so wet. Your body sure knows who it belongs to, I’m sure you will too, very soon.”

[misora-msby]

embarrassing moments with inarizaki

inarizaki always looks so cool but you know they’re actually dorks and i am here to provide you the content to show theyre clowns. enjoy the headcanons :)

Kita Shinsuke

firstly. kita shinsuke being embarrased? making a mistake? unheard of.

he’s a perfect man and we all know it.

anyways

you two were having a nice dinner out together. 

it was a pretty fancy place so you decided to dress in a different style today

but you were beginning to wonder if kita liked it or not because he seemed to keep looking past your shoulder instead of at you

he was an observant guy so you were wondering if something had happened behind you

but you couldn’t hear anything weird so you assumed not

you decided to just stay quiet about it at first but now it was beginning to become annoying! 

why wasn’t he looking you in the eye to speak?

midway through your dinner, kita finally spoke up tho

“y/n, your shirt is slipping... yer bra’s showing.”

oh.

right. you were wearing your off-shoulder top.

“o-oh. shin, it’s that kind of shirt, you know?” you had to explain your outfit to ur bf with a pink face.

“oh... that so... well it’s cold these days so if yer feelin’ cold lemme know. i’ll give ya my jacket.”

GOD HES SO PERFECT KITA SHINSUKE I HOPE U MARRY HIM???????

Ojiro Aran

another man with next to no flaws.

but nature says everyone has to make some mistake.

so it was a regular school day, our aran has just come to class from morning practice and there’s still some time left until class starts.

all the girls in class are gathered around a table

he’s not sure why, it’s probably watching an idol video

but ur man wants to be a little romantic!!

plus he just showered so he smells Great uwu

he goes over and hugs you from behind, placing his chin on ur head.

“hey, bb whatcha ya doin”

all the girls gasp.

he doesn’t get whats wrong, it’s not like it’s a secret y’all are dating

pda to this level aint bad either

especially compared to his teammate miya atsumu

“ojiro aran.”

why is your voice behind him

he looks down and nearly faints when he sees he hugged the wrong girl.

to be fair she looked a lot like you from behind, just maybe 1cm shorter.

“i’m so sorry!” he keeps apologising to literally everyone and all the class is giggling bc they never seen their school’s ace so red before.

“didn’t think i’d come back from the toilet and see my bf cheatin”

“IT WAS A MISTAKE! I’M SERIOUS! Y/N U KNOW I LOVE YA!” 

hes so funny i swear

the volleyball team hears of it and it gets even better 

Miya Atsumu

it’s not a secret that miya atsumu, setter of the inarizaki volleyball team and invited to national youth training camp, had a gf

he was very much in love with u 

the whole class knew it because he’d show it off whenever he could too

so here comes valentines day

last year he received like... 50 different gifts from girls and guys aiming to win his love.

you didnt even give him one lmAOOOOO 

but this year, he had been not so subtly trying to hint that “i better not receive any chocolates this year when i’ve got a gf!”

he reaches school and plops into his seat.

there’s an anonymous box of chocolates with “please accept my love, miya-kun! <3″ on it

“the hell’s this?!”

“oh? chocolates?” - osamu who just popped his head into the class to shove into his twin’s face how much chocolate he got.

especially since the blond was off limits, the grey-haired twin had a bigger following now.

“do they not know i have a girlfriend...”

“well, ya might as well eat it. ya dont know who to return it to.”

“that’s like receivin’ their love!”

“no it ain’t. it’s just food.”

atsumu couldn’t argue with that and popped a piece in.

it was very delicious. the chocolate practically melted on his tongue and was the perfect sweetness and was filled with a delicious ganache too.

it was perfect

but he couldn’t accept this!

“it ain’t even good. too sweet and the filling’s sticky.”

“ah. really? is that what you think, tsumu?” you ask from the door where you had been watching the exchange take place.

“y/n! look at this! some weirdo gave me some choco and like... samu said to test it but i’ll toss it out, promise.”

“tsumu, i made that... i wrote it anonymously because i thought you’d know it was me and i wanted to tease you a little.”

“huh.”

osamu: “yeah actually i went over to her place to teach her how to make it.”

atsumu: “you said you went to suna’s place?!”

osamu: “i went there later but i first went to help her.”

you: “anyways if it’s not good i don’t mind if you toss it out...”

tsumu: “NO NO BABE I PROMISE IT’S GOOD”

you: “you just said-”

“BABE I SWEAR IT’S GOOD I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO ACCEPT A STRANGER’S STUFF”

“you’re always so honest though... are you sure?” you were having your fun teasing him now.

“BB PLSSSSSS”

he still cringes at the memory 4 years into ur marriage

Miya Osamu

osamu would DEFINITELY make home made dinner dates a regular thing.

this alone shows he’s the better twin - miya atsumu stan

he loves cooking and eating with you so sometimes when he’s got a day off you guys’ll set aside the afternoon to make a real nice dinner

imagine candlelit dinner with miya dorito body osamu in a suit

of course some fun stuff happens after too ;)))

and today’s your third anniversary!!

so osamu adds lots of ‘natural aphrodisiacs’ to the meal

i’m talkin

garlic bread and soup for an appetiser, a nice juicy steak with garlic and red wine sauce for the main, and chocolate coated strawberries for dessert

mm yummy

you two cleaned your plates completely (it was very delicious) and as you were washing the dishes, osamu comes up behind and wraps his arms around your waist

“yes, ‘samu?” 

“i’ve already prepared us a nice bath with yer favourite scents.” he’s got his head resting on ur chin

“really? thank you~ i’ll be there in a bit”

but he doesn’t let go of you while you’re still scrubbing at the baking sheets.

“osamu, you can let go for now.”

“don’t feel like it.”

“i gotta wash the dishes since you did most of the cooking.”

“mmm, i’ll do it if ya gimme a kiss.”

you roll ur eyes bc what a cutie 

u turn ur head to give him a kiss but suddenly he 

he burps

that garlicy wine smell is just kinda there

“ew! ‘samu!!”

his face is real red but he’s also trying not to laugh because he’s still a dude and this is absolutely hilarious to him

“want another?” he starts teasing

“i’m not getting in the bath with you.”

“wait wait wait i’m sorry, i’ll go brush my teeth and give you a proper kiss”

Suna Rintarou

you two were taking the train home today

it was quite late due to practice going a little longer than usual, so he insisted he walked you back home today.

sunarin can be a good boyf sometimes ok

it was getting a little crowded on the train tho, since people were heading home or going out for dinner

luckily you had already grabbed seats so you were quite comfortable sitting side by side. 

you and suna have the type of relationship were you dont have to talk all the time

silence is v comfy.

he’s just scrolling through twitter on his phone while you’re looking around the car, lost in ur thoughts

suddenly you notice an old lady standing a little bit away from you and you stand up

“baa-san, please take my seat.” you whisper in the crowded carriage

“oh how kind of you. thank you, dearie.” she smiles and takes your seat while you stand in front of her and suna instead.

suna doesn’t realise this exchange has happened tho

(he’s on his phone as usual)

probably starting some fights on twitter

he decides to try to be a little romantic and pretends to stretch his arm around (who he thought was) you.

“rin.” 

why is your voice right in front of him?

“young man, i appreciate it but i’m married.”

suna jumps as he sees someone he did not recognise next to him.

he looks up and notices you had moved.

you’re giggling

the granny’s giggling

atsumu and osamu sitting opposite on the carriage look like they’re going to cry because they’re trying not to laugh

“i was just stretching. really.” he mumbles and crosses his arms, face red as a tomato

he’s so embarrassed.

Ginjima Hitoshi

sometimes the inarizaki vbc would go for an after practice snack at the nearby family mart

they were really hungry after an intense preparation for nationals which was in two weeks so kita insisted they all get something to fill them up on the way home

but lucky lucky ginjima hhehe

you (his classmate who he had a crush on) were working at the cash register today.

“welcome!” you greet everyone as they enter

he cant help but stiffen up a bit 

why are u so cute and cheery today

the 2nd years already know what to do.

“heyy, i think last week i bought ya that ramen right? ya owe me my konbini snacks today!” - atsumu

“yeah. you lost a bet to me last week so u gotta pay up. a pack of jelly fruit sticks please.” - suna

“forgot my money today, mind payin’ for my snacks too?” - osamu

“like hell i’m paying for all of you. especially you, osamu. you eat too much all the time.” 

aran’s noticed what’s going on,

“hey, if it’s just for today you can do it right? if ‘samu don’t pay ya back tomorrow i’ll nag him ‘til he does.” 

“fine...” his basket is full when he goes to the counter.

he’s trying his best not to have a red face while watching u scan the items, ur hair swaying slightly as u look back and forth between the objects and the screen.

“alright. 4,890 yen please!” GOD he hated how expensive it was, that’s almost all his weekly allowance but bc it’s u and ur voice saying it it’s kinda ok

“mm, ok.” he still has his eyes on you while he takes out his wallet and puts it on the counter.

yes

his wallet, not the money

“...” “...”

“excuse me, sir. this is...”

he almost slaps his face wtf he’s so embarrassed.

“s-sorry. just a little absent minded after practice.” he starts pulling out his cash.

“it’s fine! i know how hard you guys practice!” you smile while performing the rest of the transaction and pass him his big bag of goods. “good luck for nationals, ginjima-kun!”

he almost runs out of the store and is about to fight the rest of the 2nd years for watching and (suna) recording

[celestialevie]

Sunshine // Charlie Weasley x Healer! reader

(Not my GIF, credit goes to the creator) Genre: fluff with tiny bit of angst words: 1.7k warnings: cursing, like one sentence of smut (so 16+ please), kissing, idiots being oblivious about their feelings, mentions of second degree burn, mentions of broken ankles etc. Summary: Being in love with your childhood best friend is never easy, no matter how much love there is. A/N: This is gender-neutral fic don't mind the gif also, please keep in mind English is not my first language. If there are any mistakes, please let me know. And also thank you so much again for the 100 followers!! Hope you enjoy the fic

Working at your dream job with your childhood best friend has been the absolute dream. Even though you just started working at the sanctuary recently, you’re already loving it. And how could you not when Charlie Weasley has been nothing but supportive and making sure you’re comfortable with everything. Until very recently, you’ve been working at St. Mungo’s since your apprenticeship ended, when Charlie told you that people at the sanctuary are looking for another healer to work in case something happens with the wizards working there. While it did break your heart to leave your two other best friends, Tonks and Penny, you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to be even closer to Charlie. Everyone around you two knew your feelings for each other, while the two of you kept being oblivious to each other's feelings, not wanting to ruin your friendship. Doing this job wasn’t that hard, healing a few burns here and there, twisted ankles etc. Charlie would find excuses to go and see you, even if it wasn’t actually anything wrong with him. You’ve known Charlie since the first year of Hogwarts, when you ran into him on the train. And honestly, seeing him then, you should’ve known you would’ve caught feelings for him. Red hair and blue eyes, freckles all over his face. Who can blame you? Your thoughts have been interrupted when you heard a knock on your office door. ‘’ Come in! ‘’ you yelled as Charlie opened the door. ‘’ Hi sunshine ‘’ he smiled at you. ‘’ Should’ve known it was you. Are you injured, or did you just come to bother me? ‘’ You ask him with a smile on your face.’’ Actually injured. Baby dragon decided to give me attitude by breathing fire on my hand. ‘’ he approaches you and places himself on a bed meant for patients. Taking his hand in yours, you see the very much visible burn marks on his hand. ‘’ It’s only a second degree burn, thankfully, nothing a little of burn-healing paste can’t cure. I’ll apply it and then wrap it up so that it doesn’t accidentally budge or wipe off. In no matter of time, your hand will be as good as knew and ready for another baby dragon or maybe even mother dragon to burn it again. But please don’t actually get burnt again on that hand if possible or anywhere. Molly would throw a fit if she knew how much of your scars and injuries I heal. ‘’ You say as you grab the burn-healing paste and apply it to his hand and finish it off with wrapping a bandage around his hand. Gently tapping his cheek, he sighs and gets up. ‘’ Thank you sunshine, you’re my saviour. ‘’ he exaggerates while kissing your cheek, and he’s on his way out of your office. What you didn’t know is while healing and inspecting his wound, he finally decided he’ll act up on his feelings. But for that, he’ll need help from one person who’s been helping him ignore his feelings for you. Going back to his place, he quickly wrote a note and sent his owl to that person letting them know to come over to his place asap. A couple of hours have passed before he heard knocking on his door. Opening his door, he saw that they were wearing the same outfit they usually did when they were meeting up. ‘’ Sorry it took me a while to come over, I was at work. ‘’ Charlie gulped and let them in. ‘’ It’s no problem, let’s get this over with and honestly this will probably be the last time we meet up like this, Anna… I decided to stop being a coward and acknowledge my feeling for y/n and do something about them. ‘’ he smiled and at his words Anna’s lips stretched into a wide smile. ‘’ Charlie, that’s amazing! I’m happy for you, god, I wish I could do the same about my feelings for Peter. ‘’ her smile faded a bit and a frown replaced it. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her passionately, leading her towards the couch and slowly lowering her down on it while not breaking the kiss. Pulling off the coat, he knew she had only underwear underneath it. Slowly kissing down her neck and gently biting into it, wanting to hear her moans, he knew he pulled out of her every time they meet up like this. Lowering himself and kissing down her chest, sucking on

her sweet skin he’s got so familiar with recently. As he took of her bra, and started sucking on her nipples, the door of his cabin opened, and he swears the time stopped for him when he heard y/n’s voice when they interrupted something. ‘’ Hey Charlie….oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please continue, I’m going to go…’’ before he could even muster up a word, they apparated away somewhere. ‘’ FUCK! ‘’ He yelled as he got off of Anna and helped her get dressed. ‘’ Go find her, you idiot! Don’t just scream and shout! You should go find her and tell her everything. I’ll go home. ‘’ Anna yelled at him Giving Anna a small kiss on the cheek as an apology, he quickly tried to think of a place y/n could’ve gone to. The first thing he did was run to her house and started knocking on their door. When they didn’t answer the door, he went to their office. When he tried to enter it, the door was locked, so he knocked a couple of times before moving on to a different location. He remembered showing her a special spot by the lake, which he accidentally found when he first moved to Romania. Quickly imagining that place in his head, he apparated there, and that’s when he spotted them. Sitting by the lake and throwing small rocks at it. Taking a deep breath, he approached them.

‘’ Hey sunshine. ‘’ at the sound of his voice, they raised their head and looked behind them. ‘’ Charlie, hey…’’ clearing his throat, he slowly approached them. ‘’ Mind if I sit down next to you? Been looking around to find you. Just want to explain something to you and then after that I can leave you alone if that’s what you wish for. ‘’ they nodded their head and gently patted a spot next to them. Charlie sat down. ‘’ Can I just say before you start, I’m sorry for walking in your house without knocking or even letting you know I’ll stop by. Didn’t mean to interrupt you and Anna in your private business.’’ their voice was on the verge of breaking because god-damn did their heart break when they saw Charlie and Anna in the middle of whatever they were doing. ‘’ Oh god no sunshine, you have nothing to apologize for. If anything, it’s me who needs to apologize to you. I am so fucking sorry you saw that. But I need to explain that whole situation and for you to understand it I need you to listen to every word I say. Anna and I were nothing more than just fuck buddies. To just try and forget about all the pain in our hearts that we both felt. We never saw each other as more than occasional fuck buddies who were looking to feel something. Her heart is longing for someone else, and so does mine. Sunshine, I know that what you saw probably hurt you more than you’d like to admit to yourself and to me. God, I wish you didn’t see me and her, but….’’ he stops, taking your hands into his and looking into your eyes. My heart only longs and wishes for you, sunshine. God, I’ve never been more in love with someone more than I am in you. If you’re in love with me too or at least have some romantic feelings for me, it would make me the happiest man in the world. If you wish to stay only friends with me, I completely understand, I promise I won’t let my feelings for you ruin our friendship. You mean way too much to me for me to only ruin it because of some stupid feelings. You’re the most important person in my life. You can say what you wish to say now. ‘’ Charlie was preparing for the worse, but what he didn’t expect is for you to start crying. Noticing the panicking look in his eyes, you quickly reassure him. ‘’ No, no, don’t panic, these are the happy and frustrated tears. Penny and Tonks will be over the moon once I let them know they were right about the two of us all this time. ‘’ A small laugh escapes your lips. ‘’ I’ve been in love with you, Charlie, probably since the moment I first met you on the train. All these times I’ve told myself you only saw me as your best friend, how could you ever see me romantically. But I guess I was wrong. ‘’ you wipe away your tears as Charlie looks at you with so much love in his eyes. ‘’ Oh sunshine, I’ve never been happier to see someone laugh. ‘’ you pull him into a hug, never wanting to let him go. He pulls a little away only to press him lips onto yours. The kiss was never sweeter, wanting to keep kissing you for the rest of his life.

BONUS:

When both Penny and Tonks received a letter from you, they didn’t expect anything unusual. But what they received was the happiest news they’ve been wanting to hear since probably fifth year of Hogwarts. Charlie and you were officially together. Just like you expected, you received one big howler from them. ‘’ CHARLES WEASLEY AND Y/F/N L/N HOW DARE YOU ANNOUNCE THE NEWS WE’VE BEEN WANTING TO HEAR JUST CASUALLY IN THE LETTER. I EXPECTED BETTER FROM YOU TWO!! ‘’ Penny screamed, but Tonks was only laughing in the background. ‘’ As soon as we can, Penny and I will come over to the Romania and keep telling y/n ‘ I told you so ‘’ because I TOLD YOU SO YOU DUMB IDIOT! ‘’ Tonks yelled, and all you could do was laugh at Charlie’s shocked and kind of terrified face. Penny can be a bit scary when she wanted to be, and he definitely experienced Penny’s wrath back in Hogwarts. ‘’ Well, they seem to like the news. ‘’ you laughed as you pulled Charlie into a kiss.

[awkward-and-indecisive]

The Lazy Chose Me

Gif by @crowleysfavouritedemon

Summary - Y/n wants to have a lazy day but her boyfriend, Dean, wants to take her on an impromptu date. Will she have a good time at the date or will the date, the green eyed hunter organised, be a total wreck?

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Female!reader

Warnings - FLUFF!!! A little language, crack, lots of kissing a certain green eyed man, Dean being the best boyfriend ever, Dean being an adorable dork. Reader’s thoughts are italicised. If I’m forgetting anything please let me know!

Word Count - 4224

A/N - This randomly came to me at four in the morning. Also, I love Stitch with everything in me. 🥺😩

This is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine.

Please tell me what you think about it.

FEEDBACK IS HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!!

Happy Reading :)

*****

You were having the laziest day of your life. Sitting on your side of the bed in a hoodie and sweatpants, you were stuffing your face with popcorn while watching reruns of your favourite show. With no hunts for the day, you were having a lazy day after months and you were enjoying it way too much. Crumbs of the snacks you’ve had earlier were scattered on the bed, decorating the sheets like confetti. Little pieces of popcorn were falling everywhere but you didn’t care. And you didn’t care that you didn’t care. You were loving the fact that you had nothing to do all day but lie in bed and eat junk and be lazy and messy and ugly and dirty. You were basically a zombie for the day.

Ah! This is what dreams are made of. You thought to yourself, sighing after another episode ended. You stretched your body, a few of your joints popping due to not getting any movement for so long, and hummed happily to yourself. You pressed play on the remote, the next episode playing, and changed your position on the bed. Lying on your side, you brought up your knees to your chest, one of your hands supporting your head, and kept the popcorn bowl within arm’s reach.

You had only continued your munching for a few minutes when your green eyed sex god of a boyfriend entered the room, excitement making his huge frame shake. He stopped at the foot of the bed, bouncing on the balls of his feet and you got a little annoyed at how energetic he was being. Your eyes were still glued to the screen, hand going in the direction of the bowl, blindly picking some popcorn and gorging yourself with it.

Dean moved in front of the tv and switched it off. You let out a ‘hey!’ in protest and he came to sit beside you. You scowled at him for interrupting your plan of being a zombie all day and he kept a hand on your hip, a cheeky smile playing on his lips which told you that he was up to something.

“Get ready, sweetheart. We’re going on an impromptu date.” He said with eagerness, clapping his hands together, and you still kept scowling at him. He seemed to have figured out what was swirling around in your head and started shaking you lightly.

“Come on, Y/N! It’s been so long since we had a date night and I have the perfect thing in mind.” He whined, making puppy dog eyes. You almost gave in right there but the lazy part of you stopped you from saying yes.

“But whyyy?! I don’t want to get ready or dress up or do my hair or look pretty or take a shower. I want to spend all day in bed doing absolutely nothing.” You whined back.

“Y/n, come on! You can be lazy all you want tomorrow. And look at all this mess and you haven’t even showered?!” Your boyfriend exclaimed. You just shrugged in return. So what if I didn’t shower today? It wasn’t like I smelled. Or did I?

You shook your head to get those thoughts out of your head and pulled the covers over your head, trying to hide under them and not let Dean force you to get out of bed. He tried to snatch the covers from you, going to stand at the foot of the bed again, but you had a deathgrip on them. Of course you were no match to him when it came to strength and he managed to steal them from you, throwing them on the small chair in the room. You groaned and folded your body more, tightly wrapping your arms around your knees and burying your head in the space between your knees and chest.

Dean grabbed a hold of your ankle and easily pulled you to the end of the bed and you screamed in protest, grabbing whatever you could to hold on. To anyone else the scene would surely look extremely comical, you clutching the sheets like your life depended on it and Dean dragging you towards the end of the bed. You knew you were being childish and throwing a tantrum like a kid whose mother refused to give in to their unnecessary demand they made in a public place right now but you didn't want to leave your bed. You were so comfortable and happy spending the day there and your boyfriend was bursting your peaceful bubble of lethargy.

“Why. Are. You. So. Damn. Lazy?!” Dean huffed exasperatedly, pulling you more and more towards the edge with each word.

You finally gave up on your plan, knowing you were no match for your stupid boyfriend’s stupid strength. You swiped the strands of hair that stuck on your face from all the scuffle in annoyance, when you stood up on your feet, and looked him in the eyes.

“I didn’t choose the lazy Dean. The. Lazy. Chose. Me.” You huffed with every step you took to leave the room and go to the bathroom to get ready for your impromptu date.

Dean chuckled and shook his head at your antics, taking a pair of your jeans, your undergarments and a jumper out of the drawer to give to you since you didn’t take any with you. He dropped the clothes on the bench of the bathroom, shouting ‘don’t take too long and get ready in 45 minutes’, and came back to change his clothes too.

Rolling your eyes for the millionth time in the last hour, you dragged your boot clad feet to the bunker’s garage. You would have been spending the whole day in sweats and a hoodie and here you were now, wearing jeans and a bra. Oh how cruel life is to break my dreams like that! You internally groaned.

You found Dean humming a tune to himself while leaning against his precious Impala, legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded. His head perked up when the sound of your footsteps reached his ears and he immediately opened the passenger side door for you. You grumpily took a seat and Dean, still acting all gentlemanly, closed the door and rounded the car to take a seat in the driver’s side.

He jammed the key into the ignition and turned it, driving out of the garage. The green eyed man turned on some soft rock tunes, his fingers drumming to their tune. His whole demeanor was annoying you, testing your limits. How was he so happy after literally dragging me off the bed and stopping me from being the sack of potatoes I so desperately wanted to be all day?

“Why couldn’t we have a lazy date night in the Cave?” You asked, turning your body towards him.

“Because I can’t remember the last time we went out on a nice date and what I have planned is gonna be so much better than a lazy date night in the Cave.” He replied with confidence.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You grumbled, folding your arms.

“At least tell me where we’re going!” You whined after a few minutes had passed, stomping your foot like a child. You were really in a mood today.

“Then it won’t be a surprise.” Dean said, like it was obvious. You faced him and gave him your best puppy dog eyes, jutting out your lower lip to make the pout he could never say no to. He gave you a glance and then chuckled, “Nice try, sweetheart. But my hands are tied.”- he raised his hands in defeat and shrugged, -“I’m sorry but no can do.”

You let out a groan of frustration and decided to give up on prying information from him and just wait to see what this great plan of his was.

After a little over an hour of driving, Dean put Baby in park and you could see a tent with some lights and stuff. It was a carnival.

He brought you to a freaking carnival?!

“A carnival.” You said, judgement dripping from your voice.

“What? It’ll be fun!” He shrugged, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“I swear to god Dean if i don’t have any fun-”

“If you don’t have a good time then I’ll do whatever you want for a month.” He rambled out before you could complete your threat.

“Whatever?” You asked him, wanting to know if he was sure what he was signing himself up for. He nodded in reply and you thought about the little deal he was presenting you.

“Make it two and you have yourself a deal.” You countered, giving him a huge fake smile and putting your hand forward so you could shake on it.

“Deal!” Dean said and instead of shaking your hand, he crashed his lips on yours, kissing you like he hadn’t for years. He parted from you and you weren’t sure if you were out of breath because of the kiss or because of how good he kissed you. “That’s the way to properly seal a deal, sweetheart.” He winked and got out of the car, leaving you breathless and in a daze in the car.

You shook your head to get your brain back to working and got out of the car. You rounded and saw Dean holding his hand out for you. You couldn’t help the genuine smile and warmth that graced your cheeks. You hated how a tiny gesture from him made your heart do somersaults like a teenage girl even after all these years of knowing and dating him. Intertwining your fingers with his, you started walking towards the entry to go inside.

You were mesmerised by the hundreds of lights that were acting as a roof over your heads, looking like a galaxy of stars, as soon as you stepped foot into the carnival. You uttered a ‘Whoa!’ and could already see the smug smile forming on your boyfriend’s face. He gave you a ‘Hate to say I told you so’ look which you just ignored, pulling him towards the first stall your eyes fell on.

Dean suggested that you two eat a little before indulging in any activities and you quickly agreed since you didn’t have anything to eat all day other than those few snacks. You both opted for a hotdog and quickly finished it, feeling the hunger once the food was in your hands. The both of you roamed a little around the fair, watching everything that was on display.

The various games that were hard for normal people but to you both were as easy as pie and all the different prizes they had. A particular prize caught your eye and you memorised the stall number to visit later. The numerous contrasting foods and their delicious aromas wrapped around you like a blanket as you passed their respective stalls.

You saw a stall with flavoured lemonade and urged Dean to try some. You continued exploring while drinking the flavours of your choice. You reached the end of the ground, where the carnival was set, where a huge Ferris wheel waited for you and Dean.

You could only imagine the view you would get from the top. You tugged at your boyfriend’s jacket sleeve, stopping at the queue for the giant ride. You quickly emptied your plastic cups and threw them in the trash. You couldn’t help but notice Dean being a little nervous about the ride and found it so adorable. Dean Winchester, the best hunter in the world, was scared of a Ferris wheel.

It wasn’t long till it was your chance to sit in one of the carts. The crew guy locked the bar over your laps, securing you in. You heard Dean start humming Metallica, which you knew he did to calm himself down, as the ride started to take you up. You took his hand in yours, your thumb caressing the back of his hand. His grip on your hand tightened and you squeezed it back in reassurance, resting your head on his shoulder. You knew he was a little scared but couldn’t help and find the whole situation utterly adorable and amusing.

The wheel stopped when you were halfway to the top and you looked down to see that a couple was getting off a cart and another taking their place. You looked back at Dean, sitting next to you, and he had a funny expression on his face.

“Hey! You okay?” You asked, your brows furrowing.

He scanned his surroundings for a few seconds and then gulped, looking at you. You raised your eyebrows in question and he opened his mouth but no words came out.

“I uh...I think I’m gonna throw up.” He stuttered.

“You WHAT?!” You said, voice getting louder with shock while you let go of his hand and put as much distance as you could between the two of you. Your turn had just started and you were approximately 50 feet above ground and you had nowhere to go. Your thoughts started spiralling and you quickly rambled out, “I swear to god Dean if you throw up here I’ll kill you. Don’t even think about throwing up. Swallow it down if you have to. Don’t you dare throw up.”

“I can’t just not throw up Y/n!” He screeched.

“I don’t care!!” You said, shaking your head from side to side.

You both stared at each other in disbelief for a minute when Dean started laughing hysterically, his whole body shaking the cart. Your eyes widened when realisation hit you. He was messing with you. He wasn’t nauseous. Ugh! You hated him so much. The ride started again, taking you both up and he was still laughing.

“Asshole!” You said, smacking his arm and the cart shook a little bit.

“Whoa Y/n! I might fall!” Dean shrieked and you grumbled ‘Good!’ in reply.

You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes and looking away from him. It wasn’t long until you reached the top and as soon as you took in the view, your annoyance vaporized into thin air. You could see the whole town from up here, hundreds of lights twinkling in the distance, the cold wind blowing through your hair. It all looked so heavenly stunning.

“This is so beautiful!” You whispered in awe.

“Yeah it is.” Dean agreed with you and when you looked at him, he was looking at you. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You rolled your eyes while a blush crept up on your cheeks making your face warm even in the cold breeze. A smug expression made its way on Dean’s face and he wiggled his brow at you, thinking of how easy it was to win you over. But before he could make a smartass comment, you crashed your lips onto his, shutting him up. He didn’t seem to mind, bringing his hand up to your cheek, his thumb caressing it, while the other one still held onto the metal bar which was your only safety.

You made out like horny teenagers the whole ride, giggling when your noses collided. You both got out of the small cart, hands entwining and began to make your way back. You were walking quietly, taking in your surroundings when out of nowhere a guy ran past you, drenching you with the milkshake he had in his hand. You gasped at the contact of the cold liquid with your body, which quickly started seeping into your clothes and making you shiver.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean cursed looking at you, anger filling him straight away and then his green eyes gazed behind you to catch sight of that guy.

“Let it go, Dean. I need to change before I get sick.” You said, tugging at his hand.

“Okay okay. I think I saw a souvenir shop a little ahead. Let’s get you some clean clothes from there.” He said, his anger disappearing and worry taking its place.

You nodded and let him guide you to the shop, hoping they had some clothes you could wear. As much as you disliked coming here at first, you were having a good time and didn’t wanna go back home so soon.

You went into the shop, thanking everyone in this world when you found some clothes at the back. You quickly took off their tag and handed them to Dean so he could pay for them while you changed in the fitting room. You quickly got out of your milkshake soaked clothes and put them in a plastic bag. You left the fitting room, your eyes meeting with those gorgeous green ones and he chuckled, shaking his head and looking down.

“What?” You asked, feeling a little conscious.

“Nothing. I’m just not that surprised at your choice of clothing.” He said with amusement, waving his hand up and down towards your body.

You glanced down at yourself and realised that you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. You were back in your lazy clothes and chuckled too. You looked at Dean and shrugged while smirking, “What can I say? The lazy chose me.”

He grinned at you, pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss was all sweet and loving. He parted when the need for air became too much and rested his forehead on yours, whispering on your lips, “I’m starting to think it did.”

You pecked his lips one more time before taking his hand to exit the shop. You both roamed around a bit more, going on some rides and eating some food. You lost a bet to Dean, getting dizzy before him on Chair-O-Planes, resulting in him making fun of you before you kissed him to shut him up while he lost a bet to you, getting scared in the fun house once while you didn’t. You made fun of him before he applied your method of shutting him up, kissing you. You both tried a hybrid of a cake and a pie which was so fucking delicious that it left you two moaning with each bite and you instantly got a whole one packed to take home. Dean kept convincing you to call it Pieke which you kept ignoring. You also tried something called a ‘pizza cone’, it looked like a normal ice cream cone but instead of the ice cream, it had cheese and pizza sauce and the cone was made out of dough. It was easily the best kind of pizza you’ve ever had and got a few of them packed for everyone back at home.

It was safe to say that both of your stomachs were full with finger-licking food and your hearts with irreplaceable memories from tonight. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this carefree and had so much fun. You hated to admit it, but Dean was right and you were definitely not going to say that out loud and give him one more chance of being all cocky and boastful.

Both of you were lazily strolling with one of your hands carrying the bags with the food and the other interlaced with each others’. You could see the opening from where you had entered, meaning you had done everything there was to do.

“You ready to go home, sweetheart?” Dean asked, his head tilting to you while his eyes darted towards the entry/exit point.

You hummed while nodding, Dean pecking your forehead and beginning to walk again. You had just stepped out of the carnival when your brain reminded you of that stall number you had thought of visiting before and you quickly shrieked, “WAIT!!”

He stopped in his tracks, turning to you with his brows raised, “What?”

“Uh, I remembered something I have to do.” You gave him a vague reply, not looking him in the eye.

“Okay, let’s go do it then.” He said, turning to walk back inside.

“NO!! No no.” You yelped, pushing on his shoulders to turn him back. He gave you a perplexed look and you awkwardly said, “You don’t have to come. Plus I kinda gotta do it alone.”

“Okaaay..” Dean said, unsure.

“Alright! So I'll meet you at the car in 20.” You hastily rambled out, pecking his lips and made your way back to the stall you had earlier seen in the night, leaving a dumbfounded Dean behind.

You were walking back to the car, a giant rainbow slinky in your hands, which were behind your back, to hide the toy from him. You saw how heartbroken he was, when the one Sam had gotten him on a case, got broken. You just wanted to see his whole face light up and give you that huge smile that lit up your world. You had seen the slinky displayed as a prize on the Ring Toss game and had won it for your boyfriend easily, your hunter skills coming handy.

You saw Dean leaning against the Impala, a mischievous look on his face, something blue and huge peeking out from where he was hiding it behind him. You squinted your eyes to figure out what he was hiding but failed to make anything out.

“What you got there, Y/n?” Dean questioned, nodding to your hands, amusement painted all over his face.

“I could ask the same.” You smirked, raising one of your eyebrows.

“Well as they say, ‘Ladies first’” He winked and you chuckled.

“You’re gonna need your hands for this one and they’re a little busy as far as I can tell.” You said, wiggling your brows at him.

Realisation hit him and you chuckled at his puzzled expression at what to do with whatever was in his hands. He told you to close your eyes and not open them until he shoved the thing he had in his hands in Baby through the window. He gave you the green light to open his eyes. You gave out a count of three out loud and then brought the slinky in front of you. Dean gasped, his whole face lighting up with a million megawatt smile, just like you had imagined, lighting up your whole world in the process.

“No! Oh, you’re the best girlfriend EVER!!! I LOVE YOU AND YOU’RE SO FREAKING AWESOME!!!” Dean blurted out, voice raising with each word, probably on cloud nine right now. Your face heated up at his words but you just dismissed them, mumbling ‘yeah yeah’ while looking down at your feet.

“Okay time for your surprise!”- He said, remembering what he had stuffed in the window earlier, -“Close your eyes.”- he insisted, turning around to get it out of the car while you shut your eyes, -”And no cheating!” You chuckled at his childish behaviour, loving it all the same.

“You need some help with that?” You teased him, after a few minutes passed and you heard him struggling to get it out of the car. He grunted an ‘almost done’ making you chuckle again.

“Alright, open up, sweetheart.” He said.

“YOU DID NOT!!” You gasped as you saw what he was holding in his hands, happy tears making your eyes blurry, reminding you of your childhood.

You instantly took the giant, almost as big as you, Stitch stuffed plush from his arms, squeezing it tightly against yourself. You couldn’t believe he got that for you. That little alien meant the world to you.

“I saw it at a shooting game after you left and I just couldn’t not get it for you. I know how much you love the movie and this weird guy. And also this is compensation if you didn’t have a good time tonight.” He told you and you looked up at him.

“Dean I...this...YOU are the best boyfriend in this universe and all the others. You don’t know how much this means to me...I...I love you.” You stuttered, words not coming to you as your feelings overwhelmed you, your voice getting smaller at the end.

He stepped forward, crashing his lips on yours, kissing you passionately while his large hands cupped your face. You kissed him back with the same passion, pouring all the feelings you felt into it, immense love for a certain green eyed man being the biggest. You parted when the need for oxygen became too much and rested your forehead on his.

“You should find yourself a new bed to sleep in because I just found a new cuddle buddy I won’t be letting go of any time soon.” You teased him, a smile playing on your lips.

“Pfft yeah right.” Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, sorry Stitch, unfortunately I kinda love him the most.” You said with mock sadness in your tone.

“Unfortunately my ass!” He grumbled and you laughed at that.

“I love you. So so much.” You said, pecking his lips.

“I know. Now get your cute butt in the car. It’s getting late and we gotta go home.” He said, lightly smacking your ass as you rounded the car to take a seat.

“Plus, I gotta show you just how much I love you for getting me that slinky.” He winked, suggestively, getting into the car.

“Oh I can’t wait.” You winked back.

*****

WHAT DID YOU THINK ABOUT IT?!

TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS PLEASE!!!

Tags - @agirlwithdemonblood | @eevvvaa | @msmarvelouswinchester | @waynes-multiverse | @deanwithscissors | @jay-and-dean | @stitchintimefan