#and I deleted all the fucking asks that I answered thank you very much

[bloodwrittenletters]

YOU'LL BE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE

pairing . . . percy jackson x mortal!fem!reader

the cassette playing . . . birds of a feather! billie eilish

the letter reads . . . roman or greek, mortal or demigod, you and percy jackson were supposed to meet in every lifetime.

warnings . . . angst ( like a lot of it ), slight nsfw ( making out ), survivor's guilt, mentions of ptsd ( post-traumatic stress disorder), cursing, comedic relief.

a/n . . . can you tell I sobbed my way through this? can you also tell how much I love romance? can you also tell how much i love percy jackson and i took the opportunity of showing it? UGH. anyways!! :pp I hope you all like this and let me know if I should do another part of falling into tartarus ( or if I should make this a little series ), or if I should just leave it at a happy ending ^.^ AND I'M SOOOOORRRY THIS WAS DELAYED, SOME THINGS GOT DELETED AND HAD TO REWRITE A LITTLE 😭😭😭 alsooo this isn't very accurate because i haven't read the hoo recently, so apologies and fyi!!! love you all and i hope you enjoy

( thank you to all who waited, and also very much to these people!!! @itzmeme @aliteralhooman @bes2005 @miffysoo @littlecarrot06 )

a continuation of this and second part of this . . .

the truth was that you wanted to cry. but percy needed you, he had called you, he had told you not to cry, and that he loved you. how could you ever break down when your missing boyfriend needed you?

you called annabeth, you told her, you broke down demanding answers to questions your braind suddenly decided to flip on after bating your pretty little eyes away from the insecurity the possibility of percy lying to you; because he always was. percy jackson had too many secrets, so deep in his sould it's like he grew up in a field of thorned roses, and after months of stress and fear you took some scissors and dove head first into the mess that the fucking gods ( yes, there are gods in this plot twist ) had thrown your lovely boyfriend to.

it came down to you, it all made sense. annabeth tried to talk you through it, explain everything and anything that might seem important from her view for you to know, but your brain was too far gone.

percy was borned doomed.

oh, and he was half god, too.

in your brain, every stutter, every night of him waking up in a cold sweat, every dodge of questioning his camp, everything made sense. the scars, the fear in his eyes you used to find before he dissapeared. or even the way you could feel him shake when you kissed him.

your precious boyfriend lived in a world of fantasies you used to read about, he was a demigod! annabeth was a demigod! grover was a satyr!

everything made sense and none at all in the same moment. in a snap of a second you were studying the messy family tree percy had on his dad's side. all meanwhile annabeth worked herself off along with other fellow demigods to craft a warship to travel to fucking california because sadly you couldn't book a flight and go get percy. you had to do it the divine way, you had to sit and watch sally jackson be worried sick, you had to sit and wait as annabeth masterminded her plain, and while all that sitting, you studied!

here's a run of fun facts:

percy's uncle, zeus, left the mother of his namesake, danae, pregnant through a golden rain. percy's cousin and annabeth's mother, athena, made way for herself to be born through zeus skull, after the king of the gods swallowed her mother. kronos swallowed his—

you got the point.

you read every single book about greek and roman mythology you could get your hans on, you memorized names and places and stories and retellings and every single thing that could be helpful. you didn't have the talents to build a war ship...

or much of anything in comparison to all the half-bloods, but you could memorize all and every bit of the gods if it meant you would help percy.

he was your best friend, the one who during the school year would ask his mom for chocolates in case you had cramps during your period, the one who would get in detention constantly to defend you, the one who would sneak out of class to walk you to the next one.

even if he was away, percy always was the safest place you could run to.

and when he turned to your boyfriend, it was like everything was right. kissing him was right, his hand soothing your back when a sad movie hit home was right, percy's face smeared with lipstick was right.

so, when it was his voice calling your name for help, how could you ever not answer?

you and annabeth fought every step of the way. in other circumstances, you knew in your heart she could be your dearest friend, but right now it was playing it nice with her or getting to percy sooner.

and percy won. every single time. there was no other option, it was just percy.

'you can't come with us.' 'i'm going.' 'i said no.' 'i don't care.' 'we have no space for you.' 'i'll sleep on the damn floor if i have to, i'm getting on that ship.' 'you're a mortal.' 'i'll take a knife.' 'that's not enough to keep your safe, this is crazy, you have-' 'i'm going.' 'percy is gonna kill me.'

every day, the two of you found something new to argue over. but, in the end, she took you under her wing and let you come.

something that you couldn't stop thanking her for, whole heartdely, you believed she would throw you over board.

of course, this wasn't for free. you had to learn how to use every weapon on that ship, and have a basic understandament of self defense... and a fire extintor on you in case leo ( another half-blood, one you had learned to befriend ) burst into flames and couldn't turn off.

yeah, you would never be bored with them.

every single moment that you had spent away from him came down on you like an avalanche when you arrived to new rome. there was too much going on, a) the argo ii wasn't allowed on sacred grounds, b) no mortals allowed. and it wasn't like you could change your past and make one of your parents hook up with some god so you were allowed into the grounds of new jupiter.

"terminus," you hissed, feeling panic crawl out of your gut and settle in your throat. "i understand your rules, i understand you're not supposed to let me in your stupid—"

"sacred!" jason butted in, nodding along, trying to calm the waters.

"grounds," you continued like there was no interrumption. because this felt stupid, a boy who belonged in the comfortness of your heart was in there, it was stupid you weren't allowed to go back to him. "someone in there called me, alright? i need to see him."

"no," the god shaked his head, and you almost lanched yourself at him to hurt him in any way you could. jason stopped you. and very deep within you, you knew it was the best desicion.

you turned to annabeth, letting jason and piper try to find some allowance for you. tears pooled in your eyes and annabeth gave you the most broken glance, before focusing on finding you a solution.

the daughter of athena knew well just how head over heels percy was. she wasn't there to witness the whole thing, but she remembered long conversations between herself and her best friend where he couldn't shut up about how pretty your eyes were, or how sometimes two strands of your hair would curl into a heart.

annabeth knew you were important, and she also knew that percy needed to see you as soon as possible before the world met the wrath of a loving boyfriend without his sweet angel near him.

grover probably was going insane with rage and longing back at camp half-blood.

"there must be a way."

"there isn't."

piper sighed, glancing back at you and then focusing on her task. charm speak wasn't working on this guy, maybe a breath taking love story would.

"listen, that girl there in the brink of a break down? her boyfriend has been missing for months, he just dissapeared, and she called her to come get him. his name is percy jackson, and we just need you to let them meet again," piper sighed. she had to twist this more. more drama, more love, more tears. she had to sell this cinema worthy love story to terminus.

"have you ever been in love?"

"pipes—"

"oh, no, right, yeah. so," she hurried to explain, befor terminus took that as an offense and kicked them out completly. "what i mean is that, they're in love! a love so deep that even after months of silence, the called her, knowing that she was the one person he could trust to find him— even after he knew she would find out he lied! she didn't care, she's here, just trying to get through you, she won't do any harm, she just wants to see her boyfriend again."

"it's not going to work on me, daugther of venus."

piper threw her arms into the air, huffing in frustration and taking a step back, murmuring to leo: "do you think we can sneak her in?"

leo frowned, looked back at annabeth and you, seeing you hysterical, rambling about old myths and how unfair this was, and then looked back at piper.

"i don't think we have that choice."

as jason tried his best to find a deal with terminus, percy was deep into camp's grounds, looking away to the war ship at the borders of camp jupiter.

she's here, he thought. she's here, she found her way here, but why is she not coming down here?

by the tick of the second, percy grew more and more impatient. his skin started to act agaisnt himself, an unbereable itch starting in the nape of his neck and coming down his spine. the air started to feel thicker around him, groaning and huffing to himself, ignoring completly the looks hazel, frank and reyna were giving him.

"sit down, percy," reyna suggested.

percy stopped, looked at her, and kept pancing around. it's not that he didn't want to listen to her, more like there was something on his brain that didn't allow him to stop. there was nothing he could to stop himself. he gripped his forearm, nails biting into the tattoo he now had, trying to scratch it off as if that would make you appear in front of his eyes.

he tried. once, twice. hazel scolded at him and he stopped trying, it wasn't working.

"reyna," percy said, and when the ocean green met the dark onyx there was no denying that the desperation would push percy into a very, very bad spot. "they won't let her come down here, will they? she's a mortal so she can't—"

"no, percy, i'm sorry."

percy looked at the sky, and there were string of curses in greek coming from his lips.

"there has to be some way, please, reyna. i can't stand it."

frank looked at reyna like he wanted to help percy plead his case.

hazel pointed at something, and in a moment, percy was nowhere in sight in any of the three.

you sneaked in, somehow, some way. maybe aphrodite ( or venus, at this point ) had taken mercy upon you. she had looked at the situation and just pull the right strings to get you running right into percy's arms.

where the greek crew of argo ii still tried to come up with some solution, you were running with all your force towards the love of your life. your boy. your love.

it didn't matter on what life time, or how, when, why. you and percy met, every single one of them where your sould would meet his and tangle in a way that no matter what twist and ties were cut, nothing could do the two of you apart. hera tried, and she did really hard, but little did you know that percy never forgot you.

in his mind there was no memory of who he was, what his name was. nothing, absolutely blank, there was nothing in there but your name, the pink of your lips, the way your hands felt around his. all of those memories of you balmed up with the lipstick stains he knew you would leave all around his skin.

and he knew that he didn't mind it, he loved it. he would get them tattoed on his skin if they weren't already so in his heart.

your arm stretched out, and your boyfriend grabbed your hand. there were shouting behind you, and when gasps filled the background, percy and you were kissing.

it was slow, there were tears, his hands trailed up and trailed down, his forehead resting agaisnt yours as his hands gently mapped your skin, memorizing it again, looking if there were changes, hoping that it was warm under his finger tips as it always was.

you felt even better than his memories.

"h-hi, angel," he sobbed, attempting to kiss your tears away, but there was too many, maybe because some of his mixed with yours, melting together in the same kissing scene as the two of you were doing right now.

percy had grown taller, your tippy toes weren't enough to meet his lips. his hair was longer and some strands looked like gold under the sunlught, he smeled like the ocean--- and when you breathed agaisnt his lips and felt the relaxing, familiar scent you sobbed all over again., his lips were softer ( maybe for being untouched for so long ), and his eyes were the same. the same ones you so much loved, just more wet now.

you sniffled, and cupped his cheeks before kissing him again. this was more impatient, there were more sighs and huffs from the both of you, and percy sneaked one of his arms around your waist and set his hand politely on your hip, before slowly taking up the weight.

you were basacally flying, and all in his arms. you let out a happy sob.

"hi, baby."

you rested your forehead agaisnt his, noses pressed softly agaisnt each other's. every breath you let out, he took in, his lungs tainting of glitter and butterflies. every breath percy let out, you took in, and your smile widened when your lungs filled with relaxation and love.

"i love you," percy promised. "every piece of me— loves you."

"i love you, too," you kissed the corner of his mouth gently, before returning to your original spot. "i don't think my heart is inside my chest anymore."

percy frowned. "you're going to be sweet, aren't you?"

a smirk crept into your lips, once that you had seen percy wear before, right when he said something snarky and stole a little peck from you.

"i think my heart is in here," you tapped your fingers over his chest, beneath the obvious banging of percy's heart. "hugging yours, kissing yours."

percy kissed you before you got the chance to steal his lips away.

"love you," you both whispered into the other's mouth, before percy slowly eased you back to your feet, but never backing away more than a couple inches, his eyes clear on yours, full of love, and a smile that created three dimples. two on his right cheek, and a tiny one in his chin.

"angel?"

"hmm?"

"i think we just made out in front of a lot soldiers."

"... and i think i sneaked in."

percy laughed, ignoring the glances. he felt them now, but he was too busy to care. "you think?"

"i'm innocent, your honour, i just wanted my boyfriend."

percy pressed three quick kisses to your lips. before a yell of his name threw him off of cloud nine. annabeth chase... she was gonna kill him.

"that can't be good."

you kissed all around his face, not minding one bit what was happening around you. it was your right to do this, if anyone had an issue with you kissing percy, they could go fuck themselves.

"i love you, my lovely boy."

[jubshead]

I'm not going to argue with imbeciles who don't even have the guts to come out of anonymous.

[vivwritesfics]

Hello! I love your writing and just saw that your requests are open! I was wondering if you would be willing to write for norlestappen x reader something with a mix of fluff and spice maybe someone hits on the reader and they go into protective mode but another driver on the Grid is the readers brother and thinks that they're being TOO protective?

Thank you for all your writing and I hope you can do something with this mess if not I totally understand 😁

okay so they are a throuple throughout this, russell reader bc that's been on my mind

warnings: they get called toxic at one point

1. That time in the club - Charles

She wasn't even there with them, not technically anyway. They just also happened to be there, watching as she danced with her friends.

Lando looked all parts frat boy in the club: shirt open to reveal a bit of his chest and the necklaces he wore (one for his sister, one for his loves), and backwards snapback. Max was in his skinny years (you can take the boy out of the Netherlands, but not the Netherlands out of the boy). Charles had those stupid star jeans that he loved so much (and she loved them, too).

They weren't there to interrupt her night with her friends, but they were aware of just how pretty she was. It was kind of toxic, wasn't it? That they didn't want her in the club without them there to keep an eye on her.

But then that fucking guy came up to her.

Her friends had turned away for two seconds, walked up to the bar to get them all some drinks, and that guy took his chance.

Charles saw it first. He was laughing at something Max was saying when he saw the guy walk up to her and whisper something in her ear.

In an instant he'd shoved his drink into Lando's hand and strode over. His face was set in anger that wasn't usually seen outside of the race track as he pushed the guys hand away from her and pulled her in. "Can I help you?" He asked.

But, as soon as he said it, he turned away from the guy, small smile gracing his lips as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Is he bothering you?" He asked, but the guy couldn't hear him over the music.

"He's okay," she said and tipped his face towards her so that she could properly kiss him, so that the guy stood in front of them could she who she belonged to.

(As soon as she had kissed one of her boyfriends, she turned towards the other two. But she couldn't beckon them over and kiss them in front of this guy, not without him getting the wrong idea).

The guy backed away. "Crikey," she mumbled as soon as he had walked off. "I thought he'd never leave

2. That time in her Instagram DMs - Lando

When you have a super hot girlfriend, it shouldn't come as a surprise when people are sliding into her DMs.

It had happened a couple of times, and Lando, Max and Charles were always there to delete the messages from her inbox (she didn't have a PR team to look after her like her boyfriends and her brother did).

And, although she never ever answered, although she was very public with her relation ship with not one, not two, but three formula one drivers, people still tried.

Most of the time, people slipped through the cracks. It was easy to ignore the accounts constantly messaging her because, well, she just didn't care to answer.

But then she saw the accounts that popped up again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again.

She didn't mean to click on his DMs. Actually, Lando had sent a meme to the groupchat and she'd meant to click on that instead. But then his notification was at the top, where she was about to click. And she fucking clicked it.

It wasn't his messages that she saw first. No, it was a penis. A dick pic, that had been sitting in her DMs for... how long? As soon as it was on her screen she threw her phone and covered her mouth.

Taking a minute to recover she stood and walked to find Lando at his PlayStation. If this had been a few years ago, he would have been streaming. Thank God he wasn't.

"Lan," she said and sat on his lap. "This was your fault, you fix it."

He looked at her phone, and almost threw up. "How the fuck was this my fault?"

"If you hadn't sent that meme to the groupchat, I wouldn't have accidentally clicked this!"

But Lando still furrowed his brows at her. So, she explained it all to him (that this guy was one of those freaks that constantly messaged her).

Lando fixed it. He took a picture of himself, hood up, curls visible out the front of his hood, and middle finger up. The expression on his face was clearly unimpressed as he stared at the camera.

This is her boyf, fuck off

It was cringe and cliché, and she loved it. The guy in her DMs opened the picture instantly, and Lando blocked him.

He passed her phone back and she climbed onto his lap. "Thank youuuuuuu," she said and hissed his neck a couple of times.

Lando's hands settled on her hip. "No more opening dick pics unless they're from me, yeah?"

She agreed to that.

3. That time with George - Max

There was nothing worse than seeing her brothers car collide with one of her boyfriends. But, if it had to be one of them, why did it have to be Max?

Max, who got out of the car, fuming. Max, who couldn't be stopped by Lando or Charles as he marched over to George.

They got into a fight, one that was clearly about more than the crash. Nobody knew what either man had said. Lando rushed over, while Charles ran to her and pulled him against her, hiding her in his chest.

"She's my fucking sister!" George shouted as Lando got between them. "She's my sister and you treat her like you own her!" His eyes moved to Lando, and then to Charles. "All of you do."

She didn't know George had this kind of problem with her relationship. Of course, it didn't change anything. She loved them, she knew what there relationship was all about, and she was happy.

But her brother was still fighting with her boyfriend. She pulled away from Charles and strode over. "George!" She shouted, and her brother turned towards her. "What the fuck!"

"It's racing stuff."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid," she said. "I heard everything, you idiot."

"Oh," he said and stood up straight. "Well, I'm right, aren't I? Max wouldn't be trying to kick the shit out of me."

She frowned. "Is your problem that I'm dating them, or that they're protective?"

"Possessive."

"Protective."

"Possessive."

This went on for a little while. Max, Lando and Charles stood behind her, watching as the siblings went back and forth. When Charles laid his hand on her shoulder, she snapped back into it. "Right, yeah," she said and shook her head. "They're not possessive. Lando saved me from a guy with dick pic the other day, George! Or do you want me getting sent dick picks every five minutes."

George rolled his eyes. "Of course not," he said. "But-"

"Then shut the fuck up and stop trying to kill my boyfriend on track."

a/n: this one got away from me and i'm not proud of the ending lmao

[lam-ila]

Sharpest Tool || Carlos Sainz

Summary: Inspired by Sharpest Tool by Sabrina Carpenter. You admit your issues with your on again off again relationship with Carlos.

Continue Reading: part one, part two, part three

Word Count: 1,590

Warnings: a few swears and an argument between reader and Carlos

please let me know if you find more that i should add

F1 Masterlist

a/n: thank you mel for helping me figure out the ending to this! i had two options and i very much like the one she chose better (which is the one that's in this fic haha)

this is gender neutral. hope you enjoy this! feedback is appreciated

LIKES ARE GREAT, REBLOGS ARE BETTER ♡

You and Carlos were… well you didn’t know. You acted like a couple, you did things like a couple, but you weren’t. You met the whole F1 family, meeting Lando, Charles, and even little Leo Leclerc. You went to a few F1 races in the 2024 season so far, the highlight being the Australian Grand Prix.

The race was just perfect for you and Carlos, and the post-race events were also just perfect. People assumed you were a couple, you felt like a couple, until media day of the Japanese Grand Prix when Carlos stopped texting you.

You two continued like that; sometimes you acted like a couple, you went to his races, then he stopped texting you. You constantly second guessed yourself and your romantic moments with Carlos, but you found yourself going back to himself every time.

You were in one of those times where you and Carlos weren’t talking to each other. You went to the Belgian Grand Prix, then summer break arrived and you hadn’t heard a peep from him. He was all you could think about, even while you sat at your desk at work on a random Tuesday.

Standing up to go on your lunch break, you grabbed your phone and tapped on the screen to check your notifications. You were about to put your phone in your back pocket when your eyes got caught on a text from Carlos.

You rolled your eyes at the soft ‘hey’ he sent, then noticed another text from him asking you if you wanted to go to one of his upcoming races. You quietly scoffed and shoved your phone in your back pocket, walking away from your desk to go on your lunch break.

You were furious. Carlos ignored you for a week and then casually asks you to go to his race? You weren’t sure how to respond. Just ignore him back? Text something snippy? Block him? Answer and say yes?

No. You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. You told yourself you wouldn’t agree to spending more time with Carlos if he asked again. But you wanted to so badly. You craved his touch, his kisses, his romantic gestures, but you knew it would only end in heartbreak, just like it always did.

You busied yourself with your work for the rest of the day, completely engulfing your mind into it to only thinking about it. You hadn’t thought about the texts that were sent to you by Carlos until later that day when you returned home from work. You crashed onto your couch after changing out of your work clothes and as you were about to open a text from one of your friends, your eyes glanced down at the still unopened texts from him.

You stared at it for a few minutes, contemplating everything about those texts and how you should respond, or even if you should respond.

You know what? Fuck it. You only live once, right?

You opened the texts, immediately bringing up the keyboard and typing ‘i’d love to! i’ll let my work know so i can get a few days off’. You quickly pressed send and turned the screen off before you could give yourself a chance to back out and delete the text. You squeezed your eyes shut, the small amount of time before receiving a text back feeling like hours. Your eyes opened once you felt your phone vibrate due to Carlos’ text that read ‘great! let me know when you find out cariño’.

—————

You managed to get a few days off of work and Carlos flew you out to Zandvoort for the Dutch Grand Prix. He greeted you as you got off the plane with his signature smile and you couldn't help but smile back. You felt like an idiot smiling at his stupid smile and admiring his stupid hair and running into his stupid arms for a hug as he kissed you on the top of your head with his stupid lips. His lips travelled down, pressing a kiss against your forehead, then one against your cheek, then you angled your head to press your own lips against his.

And then there was his stupid voice. Once you parted, with your nose nuzzled against his, Carlos mumbled a low "I missed you, cariño." You leaned forward to capture his lips in another kiss, humming into the kiss in agreement.

The rest of that day was euphoric; you and Carlos spent the entire time in his hotel room and ordered room service, watched tv, cuddled, and soaked the presence of each other in. You woke up the next day limbs tangled with Carlos' and light peaking through the curtains. You both groggily got up after a few minutes of laying in bed together, simultaneously getting ready for media day and taking a few seconds out of your routines every now and then to press your lips together in short, but passionate kisses.

You went through media day acting like a couple, just as you had many times before, but at the end of the day when you entered Carlos' hotel room for the night, you broke. You couldn't act like everything was okay anymore.

"What are we?" you asked Carlos the minute after you took your shoes off upon entering the hotel room.

"What do you mean?" Carlos rebutted, stepping closer to you to meet you in a kiss. Knowing what he was about to do, you placed your hand flat against his chest, stopping him in his tracks about one step away from you.

"This isn't normal, Carlos." You kept eye contact with him, trying to portray your sincerity in your words. He opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. "You're lying to yourself if you think we're fine. You know you are." Carlos took your hand off of his chest, holding it in between the both of you and despite how much you knew you shouldn't let him hold it, you let him do so.

"Cariño, you confuse me." You abruptly pulled your hand out of his at his words, take a step back from his to increase the distance between the two of you.

"That's just it!” You started to pace around the area in between the door and the bed you shared with Carlos the night before. “You're either blissfully ignorant or you actually don't realize anything's wrong because we never talk about it!"

“Cariño-”

“Stop calling me that!” You quickly turned on your heel to pointedly look at Carlos. He looked at you, mouth slightly parted in shock, as you stood in front of him, breathing heavily.

"Okay," Carlos cautiously began, not wanting to provoke you even more. "I'll stop calling you that. But I thought you liked when I called you that?"

"I did. But fuck, I'm such an idiot because this has all just been casual for you, right?" you continued before Carlos could answer your question. "Just a casual little on again off again fling. But this has been everything to me. My life has revolved around you. I've used up so many of my vacation days to be at your races. I've cried myself to sleep because of the multiple times you stopped talking to me. I've never been happier while knowing you, but I've also never been in a worse state of mind while knowing you."

You stopped after spewing out your little monologue, waiting for Carlos to respond. You stood in silence for a few minutes, staring at each other in shock.

"I'm done," you stated after Carlos didn't say anything. "I'm done with all of this, whatever this even was." You started to collect your belongings from around the hotel room, refusing to look at Carlos because you knew you'd fall back into his arms if you looked at him.

"Let me at least get you on a flight home," Carlos finally spoke up.

"Fine."

"And text me when you get home. Please. I need to know that you get home safe." He pleaded, eyes not wavering from you hurriedly moving across the room.

"Why?" You stopped in your tracks, still facing away from him.

Because I really do love you.

"You're not going to like the answer."

"Fair enough." You shrugged, leaning down to pick up your bag and shoving your belongings into it. "I'll be waiting in the lobby until you find a flight for me." Walking past Carlos towards the door without sparing another glance at him, you put on your shoes and hovered your hand above the door nob, giving him one last chance to say something.

"Go," Carlos softly lamented. "I'll text you the information once I book one for you. You won't even have to see me."

You left the room without saying another word, slowly and quietly closing the door behind you to avoid anyone in the neighbouring rooms from hearing a loud slam.

Instead of immediately starting to find a flight for you, Carlos sank down into the desk chair that sat next to the bed. His head fell into his hands as he mentally beat himself up. How did he screw up this bad? How did he lose you?

He glanced towards the closed door, debating whether or not he should run down to the lobby to beg for you back. But he didn't, despite how much he wanted to. He couldn't do that to you after everything he put you through.

Maybe he'd earn your forgiveness one day.

——————————

F1 Taglist: @2manytabsopen @matthewkniesys @fallinallincurls @c-losur3 @sof1shticated

join my taglist here!

[marimayscarlett]

Richard needs to start doing coke again so he can be skinny again lol

I debated deleting this ask, or answering it with a meme, which didn't seem fitting in the long run. I know, I should ignore dumb messages like this, but it's so much shit in one pile, it does compel me to address it.

1. Richard has a whole history with drug abuse, which stretches from the early 90's into the early 2000's. He once mentioned that as soon as he stepped foot into the recording studio, he had the urge to consume drugs, to get that thrill to be able to work endlessly.

"I was killing myself. I was doing too many drugs. I took drugs just to work. Constantly, constantly, constantly." (article)

Most likely to be able to fuel his obsessive perfectionism when it came to music, to battle his need for appreciation and acknowledgement, to drive him further into creative spheres, doing all that while accepting the risk of killing himself, making his kids half-orphans in the process, ruining the band with his insufferable tendencies. Sounds like super fun, right?

2. Richard is pushing 60 and even though the media and society likes to disregard this little thing called "aging", it very much happens! Who would've thought that the body changes as the decades go by! Richard doesn't look like he's 30 anymore, and thank fucking God. Thank God he doesn't, thank God he got off drugs before it was too late, thank God he is able to go through life without snorting a line of coke several times a day, since he had the strength to go to therapy and through drug withdrawal. So what if he's a bit more now, good for him if he feels good in his body. I'd rather see him thick and voluptuous on stage than reading on his Wikipedia page "died age xy on a drug overdose", like many other musicians in the scene. But good to know you would embrace that possibility 👍🏻

3. If you're so much into (partly) drug-induced thinness, how about a little example, some late 1970s/early 1980s Jimmy Page perhaps? Who suffered from drug abuse through years without end?

Looks good right? Fine and healthy and like someone who is really thriving, is he not?

I'm very glad both Richard and Jimmy won their battle against drug abuse, since this is not a given. Many, famous or not, lost it.

Richard is alive, well, gives us his best on stage. Messages like yours disgust me to no end, mindsets like yours are downright dangerous, are a sign of utter stupidity and have no place whatsoever in this fandom. The "lol" behind it doesn't make it light-hearted, it makes it fucking dumb and even more immature.

Fuck off, and grow up.

[g1rld1ary]

Hey!! I saw you write for lockwood & co, so I've been summoned ✨

May I request an Anthony Lockwood x reader where it's basically like the deleted scene where Lucy is in a towel and compliments Lockwood's pajamas, and Lockwood (probably panicking) says he likes her towel and he has this face of instant regret

Basically that but with reader and maybe they're already dating? Thank you so much!!

nice towel - anthony lockwood x reader

wc: 922

cw: r gets caught in just a towel, kissing (slightlyyyy suggestive content maybe??), swearing

thank u so much for this request sweetheart!! i know it took so long but it was so fun to write -- i know i took it in a little different direction but i hope u enjoy & i did ur req justice!!!! lots of love xoxo

It wasn’t always easy living with your coworkers. Especially when your coworkers were all teenagers your age, including your very new boyfriend. Having four people in relatively cramped quarters was bound to bring uncomfortable situations, but you all tried to handle it like the adults you weren’t yet.

The aforementioned uncomfortable situations happened most often surrounding the bathroom. One bathroom between four people wasn’t the worst arrangement in the world, but with four people with such irregular schedules, it was inevitable that sometimes your visits would coincide.

Usually it wasn’t so bad; two people sharing the sink as they brushed their teeth, you sitting in the shower (clothed, of course) shaving your legs as George did his hair. Life was mostly peaceful.

You were taking a Sunday night everything shower, washing your hair and using the fancy exfoliator and body wash you got as a birthday gift. Your body was smooth, you felt glowing and you were wrapped in a fluffy warm towel, painting your toes as you sat on the toilet. You were the last to shower so you had no inclination to rush, knowing there wasn’t a great chance of anyone bursting in with any urgency.

Except, of course, Lockwood and Co. never did what you expected. A loud banging came through the door and you jumped, swiping the nail polish over your skin instead of the nail.

You jumped up regardless, clutching your towel tightly across your chest as you opened the door. George, Lucy and Lockwood stood on the other side, all in their pyjamas and panting slightly. You stared at them, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

“What do you remember about the Jefferson House ghost?” George asked, catching you off guard.

“Huh?”

“Jefferson House ghost. The poison case. I was visiting family, Lucy wasn’t part of the company yet and Lockwood is useless at remembering research. What do you remember?” You were still struggling to understand the purpose of this question, but shrugged and answered anyway, rattling off whatever you could remember about the house, the ghost and the case.

“You’re so much more useful than Lockwood,” Lucy said, shooting you both a teasing smile. Lockwood rolled his eyes, but amusement shone through underneath.

“Right. Well, I’d like to get back to my night, uh,” You caught a glance of Lockwood’s matching pink set of pyjamas, “Nice pyjamas.” Lockwood glanced down at his outfit and you swore you saw him blush, a rosy colour similar to his shirt. Lucy and George watched between you.

“Thanks,” He said, eyes giving you a once over, “Nice… towel.” You could actually see the regret seeping into his bones, mortified cringe screwing up his features. You bit your lip, an awkward giggle escaping as all four of you stood, slightly unsure of what to do.

You took the initiative, slowly backing away from the group, pressing the door closed as you heard Lucy’s deadpan: “Lockwood, what the fuck?” and his panicked reply.

“I panicked!”

You had a total physical reaction, the tangible awkwardness of the moment permeating through the bathroom. You did an embarrassing wriggle-shake-expelling of discomfort and immediately felt better, going so far as to laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

You and Lockwood had only been dating for a few months, trying to take things slow and ensure you weren’t compromising the state of the company. Therefore, you hadn’t spent the night in his room yet. So you’d never seen Lockwood in his adorable matching set of flannels and he’d never seen you less than fully clothed (with the exception of him patching you up a few times where you looked so unsexy).

Later that night, you knocked softly on Lockwood’s door, pushing it open gently. Only the lamp was still on, Lockwood reading in his bed, still dressed in the pink pyjamas. He looked up when you entered, surprised but not at all disappointed.

Your usual rule was that you spent time together in the library at night; private but not at risk of crossing lines that might make George or Lucy uncomfortable — the company was both of your priorities.

“I am so sorry for before,” Lockwood begged for forgiveness, smile both embarrassed and entertained. You shook your head, dismissing the apology.

“It’s ok, I laughed.” He relaxed immediately, megawatt smile back out for you to admire. He patted the spot beside him and you all but dove in next to him, giddy at the feeling of being in his bed. “Your pyjamas are really cute, by the way.” He blushed again, putting his arm around you and pulling you close. You hoped he couldn’t feel your racing heart.

“Yeah?” His eyes glinted with mischief, “You looked pretty cute in the towel too.”

“Yeah?” You couldn’t help the girlish giggle that escaped you, looking up at him through your lashes in a way you knew he liked.

“Yeah.” He swooped down and stole a kiss, triumphant when he pulled away until you grabbed the back of his neck, connecting your lips deeper. He let out a startled noise before he melted into it, adjusting you to a more comfortable position underneath him.

Lockwood pulled away to admire the view.

“Maybe we need to rethink our rules,” He murmured, playing with a strand of your hair absentmindedly.

“Anthony, I swear to God, if you don’t keep kissing me —”

You didn’t have to finish the sentence.

[nor-4]

Hey pretty do you still take requests? If you do please write something about Lewis Hamilton x Fem Reader and their relationship is like that one video of rihanna and asap where rhi is looking lusty at asap. Lmao I'm bad at explaining I'm sorry, anything will do tbh i trust you. 🥰

Those sinful eyes - Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

ᝰ.ᐟ A/N: Oh i just know what you mean lol. All the requests in my account got deleted and this is recent so if you are one of those peeps who sent me a requests back then you are free to send it again, I'm very sorry for the long take. 💋

ᯓ★ One of the things you can use against lewis is your eyes. They have a big impact on him it can be staring up at him or staring down at him.

"Don't move so much babe, I'm trying to do your hair." You giggled as you place your feet behind your ass resting it on his knees to comfortably sit on his lap while he wiggled like a child, "I'm sorry missus." as his eyes traveled from your lips to your eyes.

"fuck.." he muttered looking at you breathlessly, "What you have a staring problem now?" you joked as your fingers made their way into his curls before carefully tugging a piece as you continued your work with braiding his hair since the fronts are the only thing that was left untouched.

"You are so beautiful and beautiful and beautiful." Lewis blabbed looking back at your left to right eyes as if he is watching a tug rope competition fighting over which side is he gonna look at with how close you are.

The biggest hate love he has on the way he folds quickly just by the eye contact. The intimate eye contact and smile does something to him that will make him want to go on convulsion.

George once pointed it out on him which became a whole joke on the grid.

"The family guy is here again." Max said as lewis approach the drivers who just sat down and talk after the practice race, "What do you mean, we don't have a kid yet?" lewis cluelessly said as he sat down between all of them.

"With how whipped you look at her oh you will be soon" George marked spreading his arms on the back of the chair to welcome lewis more to share a detail about both of yours relationship. "Have you seen how his girl look at her? If she looked at me that way i would even faint, lewis is just a humble guy." Lando pointed out to side lewis and to give him a concrete reason on why lewis acted like that when you look at him.

"I mean have you seen lewis? I would look at him that way too" max stated before sipping his redbull.

ᯓ★ Get dressed, get your nails done, buy all your make up, own him up.

Another weakness of his is seeing you all ready and pretty for somewhere you guys are going for a date or whenever you go to the paddock.

"Hey guys i wasn't informed we are all meeting in here." Lewis entered as the laughter and talking went down to silence, "What's that on your face?" Lando was the first one to speak up which broke the silence.

"What what??" Lewis asked as he rose his phone up using it as a mirror to look at himself

"That kiss mark.."

"Oh it's from my missus." Lewis answered confidently before sitting down as a big smile still plastered on his face like a kid who's proud of his medal, "Yeah of course.." George bitterly said rolling his eyes and smacking his lips.

"Wow the missus really wifed you up."

That's one of his title that he is very proud of, hell have you guys checked on lewis when both of you first talked? He is very proud of it bragging it to everyone as if he won the most luckiest man alive. What worse when you said yes to his proposal of being your boyfriend who will definitely be your husband soon.

One of his dream is making a family with you, finally hearing his surname beside your name.

"Hello Mrs. Hamilton you look beautiful in that dress." Lewis addressed walking at your back feeling his palms on your back like he is sculpturing like those statues in museum, "Thank you Mr. Hamilton, you look handsome as ever.." You complimented back placing your hand on his face caressing his jaw and cheeks, holding up an eye contact on him with pure admiration.

"Of course i do, you are the one who picked my outfit" he commented and yes he lets you pick on what he wears. There are times where both of you wear a matchy outfit or just a same color shirt just so people can't tell you both apart. "Did you like it?"

"Oh i love it Mrs. Hamilton, look how good we look besides each other" He kept the nickname before looking at both of you in the mirror holding your waist like the mirror will take a picture any time moment. "I think something is missing hmm.." he said looking at you.

"What do you mean, you look really good." You muttered looking back at him, "My kiss.." he pouted as you smack his chest feeling a sigh of relief. "Darling you scared me" you giggled before grabbing his face with one hand and placing a kiss on his cheek.

Looking at the pigment that rests on his face is like looking at the painting of work from the history. The memories and moments of how many times you have did this, it's like reminding everyone that you own him, The seventh time world champion who makes everyone know that he can't function without feeling the affection you give to him by the daily basis.

"How i love looking at that on my face everyday, God knows you will walk down the aisle as a scene and confirmation to everyone that i am gifted with a gorgeous wife like you."

[emersonfreepress]

help i'm alive

So! Long time, no see. 2023 was a whole goddamn lot lol

I don't have a demo update to share yet, but that's because I had to scrap nearly everything I managed to write during a very, very, very bad stint of writer's block last year. I hadn't even realized it had been a block like that until I went over my work so far last month and realized it was bad -- like, trust me; a slog to read that didn't even sound like me. It's been extremely frustrating but I've finally broken free of that and it's been easy and actually fun to write again for the first time in actual years. I just hate giving updates that have no actual news in them. And I really had nothing to share other than: I deleted thousands of words and feel so much better now 😅

Anyway, little about my demo plans have changed: I'm still putting out the Chapter 3 demos in Choicescript/on Dashingdon and then will be going dark to move things over to Twine. Where I am in the process right now is... feeling like 35% done with the overhauled version of this chapter and 50% done for the next demo update.

As far as asks, I'm... not really sure what to do?? I believe I've read them all (I love you guys), but so much time has passed since getting most of them that I'm not sure if it's, like... still pertinent??? To go back and answer them?? I suppose some of them like character asks could be, but all the nice messages of support -- that feels weird since I've practically ghosted this blog since August! Idk. Y'all tell me what to do with 'em and I'll do it. Maybe I should make a poll.

Uh... that's really all there is to say regarding the game! I've added some personal stuff after the cut, but if you're done here: Thanks for reading and sticking around. It means the world, for real.

So what has occupied my time all this time? Doctor, therapy, money, and friends. And improv! But especially the first two. There was a lot of non-writing related stuff fucking up my ability to focus and write, so hopefully with my mind and body both feeling a lot better, I can get back to being present and active with the game. I didn't realize how physically unwell I was until last year and it's been like... life-long issues I've been treating. It turns out it's not normal to feel exhausted enough to sleep at any given time, at all times, for your whole life! wow!!

I also uninstalled Tumblr from my phone back in February, so you could say I'm sort of generally focused on offline life. (And what an interesting coincidence that my writer's block dissipated shortly after that...) I also just moved!! The last two weekends have been so expensive and stressful -_- But I can't even compare the old place to the new. We're basically paying the same price for idek how much more space. The cats are so happy; which means the house humans get to be happy.

My schedule is finally freed up from constant medical shit (there was a 3-month stretch this winter with multiple doctor appointments literally every fucking week 🙃🙃🙃). My mental health is doing a lot better -- literally incomparably better compared to where I was this time last year. There's live comedy now (which I dabble in, to be clear lol), but I've finally found myself able to like... balance it all. The physical and creative energy that goes into it all, anyway. The lovely thing about improv is that you kinda just show up and do your thing -- it doesn't cut into my writing time so much as it costs energy. Unless I end up in this comedy debate show thing next month, which I am very excited to give up writing time for

So like... Life is life-ing and I'm just vibing. Or something? I'll be around.

Thank you all again so much for your interest, support, patience, and readership <3

[zorrasucia]

"Just sleeping and fucking all day," I AM DEAD!!! and i revived just to BEG you to expand on this please i just love them so much 😭

I'm so glad you liked it, Anon! I came up with something but I'm like 90% sure it's not what you were asking for - I aimed to write more smut and it turned into saccharine fluff somehow. I apologize. Rest assured that the next update for this fic is business as usual, very spicy and contains Carmy finally ******* ****** :)

Teach Me Tonight - Deleted Scene 2.0

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] Deleted Scene: [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Mature (1k)

Tags: Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Smut, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Domesticity

"Hey, baby," Carmy mumbled with a smile, rolling over in bed and looking at you with sleepy eyes.

You had padded into the room and leaned over to kiss his neck, waking him up from his third nap of the day. In between, you had fucked - slow and loving, then quick and hard, then a mix of both. You felt tired in the best way - and still somehow you wanted him. But you could wait.

"Shhh. I'm not here for another round," you soothed, moving a lock of hair out of his face. "Got us some pizza," you settled across from him, laying the box between you.

He sat up and ogled you shamelessly. You were wearing jeans and one of his shirts, your nipples showing through the white fabric.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he shook his head and focused on the slice of pizza you handed him instead.

"I mean," you gestured at him, his naked torso and satisfied smirk, "likewise, Carm."

You shared a hungry look while taking a bite of pepperoni. He broke first, looking up at the ceiling, away from you.

"How's it feel?" he asked.

"Mmm?" you nudged his leg with your foot.

"You come like two, three times when I can only do one and be just useless..." he blushed, curiosity tinting his skin. "I was just wondering what that was like, if all women were like that."

You smiled. Sometimes you forgot that he was a virgin before you.

"A lot of women can, uh, come multiple times," you explained. "If it's done properly, if you work for it," you cleared your throat. "Some women can't come at all."

"That sounds, uh-" Carmy struggled.

"Miserable?" you supplied and he nodded. "It can be. But sex isn't always about coming, you know? It's about being close and getting to know each other."

Carmy hummed pensively.

Just now, between one round and the next you had fallen asleep still intertwined, spent, his arms around your waist and his softening cock inside you. It was nice, to be so close with zero expectations of it going anywhere.

"What've you learned about me? With sex, I mean," he asked, his blue eyes wide.

"That you're giving, uh, determined, a fast learner," you pondered for a minute while you chewed. "A bit of a control freak but we knew that from before," he chuckled. "And you think you don't deserve good shit, even though you do."

"Pretty spot on," he let out a shaky breath.

You caressed his calf over the bedsheets. It felt strange to be talking about this but it had been a fucking weird day, and discussing orgasms with Carmy while eating pizza fit right in.

"You're a great fuck, Carm," you said softly. "And that takes patience and care and- I love that you want to make me feel good. I do," his gaze was downward and you reached for his hand. "I just don't want you to think you need to be perfect for me here too, you know? There's no pressure."

Carmy nodded and his eyes met yours, he gave you a soft smile.

"Thanks," he brushed your knuckles with his thumb. Then his smile turned mischievous. "Just to be sure, you do like coming though?" he looked for confirmation, head tilted.

"Yeah," you laughed. "Obviously, yeah," you poked at his side and reached for another slice of pizza. "I'm just saying there's no pressure, okay?"

"Okay," he took a big bite of crust. "You didn't answer my question from before," he prompted, raising his eyebrows. "How does it feel?"

"Uh. Well, you don't know how good it's going to be until you're coming. Sometimes it slows down, becomes softer. Or you get halfway through the next and get stuck there," you shrugged. "Sometimes it builds up, becomes more intense each time-"

"Like the last one?" he asked.

You blushed - the memory of him on top of you, his chain dangling near your mouth, his hands holding your wrists above your head, taking up all your thoughts. He had fucked you through your first orgasm until you saw stars and your moans turned into cries of pleasure.

"Exactly like that," you replied bashfully like it wasn't you that had begged him to keep going and fuck you harder.

"How many have you done?" Carmy asked after a while.

"Huh?"

"How many times you've come in a row?" he repeated, that calculating look back on his face. "What's the max?"

"I don't know, five?" you laughed nervously. "I think you're getting the wrong message from this, Carm."

"No, I know," he shook his head. "I was guessing we could start with all that 'no pressure' thing tomorrow. And I think I still have one more round left in me today, so..."

"What the fuck, Carm?" you giggled.

You covered your face with your hands, hiding how flustered you were.

"I'm serious," he said, amusement still showing in his tone. You finally uncovered your face and looked at him. He was smiling but he wasn't joking. "I don't know how to be calm," he explained. "I don't know how to fucking relax and be normal. I never have. Being with you- That's the closest I've come to that," he said softly. You cupped his face tenderly. "But sometimes it gets so crazy that the only thing I know I can do well is make you feel good. That's why I can be a control freak and competitive and insane..."

You shushed him.

"You're fine, baby," you caressed Carmy's shoulders, scooting closer to him. "I love that you're all those things. I just- You push yourself to the limit. You can hurt yourself trying to make everything perfect," your thumb traced the edge of the dark circles around his eyes - all from early mornings and late nights at The Bear. "I don't want to be that for you - another weight, another thing that needs to be perfect."

"You're not," he whispered. "You've never been that, okay?"

"Okay," you sighed and surged forward to kiss him, his face between your palms.

Even after the kiss was over you stayed there, your forehead on his, and your noses touching.

"So," you said after a while, "how about we finish this," you pointed at the pizza, "and watch a movie?"

You had learned that watching a movie with Carmy was shorthand for a nap on the couch since he was always so fucking tired.

He chuckled against your mouth.

"I think I can manage that," he replied, guiding you by the hand to the living room.

~

[Part 8]

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[starry-eyedblog]

ahh i’m so sorry @angelofacidx!! i accidentally posted this ask before it was ready and had to delete it so your ask is gone :(( i hope i did a good job and y'know i had to make simon a tad pathetic, just for you <3

warnings/tags: simon x fem goth reader, awkward simon, flirting, teasing, kissing

when simon caught a glimpse of you one night at the pub he frequented with his mates, he was instantly captured by your beauty. usually, his type wasn't goth girls but there was something just so intriguing about you and your style that he found himself unable to look away.

when his friend johnny saw he was staring off, uninterested in the conversation, he followed his friends eyes and saw what had his full attention. "got a wee crush have you, si?" he chuckles, playfully nudging at his arm.

"oh fuck off," simon grumbled back, thankful for his black face mask covering his flushed cheeks. then, another friend was peeping up. "not your usual type mate. gonna go talk to her? or just oogle all night like a dickhead?" gaz had laughed with a raised eyebrow, taking a sip of his pint.

simon shrugged off his friends and left his booth, walking over to the bar where you were sat on a stool, talking away to a friend. he slipped in behind you, akwardly coughing to catch your attention which worked.

you spun around in your stool, tilting your head back to take in the absolute mammoth of a man stood in front of you. "can i help you?" you had asked, tilting your head slightly with an almost annoyed expression and simon felt his face flush warm.

"i uh- i was wonderin' if i could buy you a drink?" he asked, trying to avoid staring at you too much incase it come off as rude. in reality he was soaking up your outfit and makeup, enjoying all the details his eyes could find.

you laugh softly and with a smile, you accept the offer. "course you can, i'll have whatever you're having." you say, leaning in a bit closer to him so he can hear you over the general chit chat filling the busy bar.

simon nods, watching the way you lean towards him. his hands grow sweaty and his eyes frantically try to avoid yours. he quickly orders two rum and cokes, paying for them with a tenner. he takes his change, watching the bartender pour the drinks and place the glasses down in front of him.

he says a quick thanks before handing you a glass, "thanks." you say simply, bringing the glass up to your lips to take a long sip. as you place the drink down onto the bar, you look up at him with a questioning look.

"gonna ask me any questions or?" you tease with a smile and simon feels his heart hammering against his ribcage. "oh yeah, sorry uhm. so what's your name? that's a good place to start yeah?" he chuckles, hooking his mask under his chin and taking a big sip of his drink to try settle his nerves.

simon was someone who was confident in his looks, knew how intimidating he was with his height and old scars. you'd think he was a womanizer, but in all honestly he got shy around pretty girls and always managed to make an arse out of himself.

you laugh and nod, "yeah that's a good place to start. maybe next you can ask what my job is?" you tease with a cheeky smile before taking pity on him and telling him your name before asking for his.

simon answers back with his name, complimenting how pretty yours is before trying to move on and ask more questions that aren't very surface level.

more drinks are bought throughout the night and you seem to stay by his side, enjoying how flustered he gets around you. the more tipsy simon gets, the more he's unable to hide his fascination about your style.

"so, goth huh? i may have uh been a bit of an emo when i was younger in all honestly," he admits and you bark out a laugh, body tipping back and simon hopes to engrave that sound into his mind to remember for the rest of his life.

you raise a brow, "that so? just trying to imagine you with piercings and eyeliner. paints a pretty image honestly." you say before leaning forward, taking one hand and slowly dragging it up his arm while staring into his eyes.

once simon realises what you are doing, his face flushes pink and he feels his heart race. "had to take those out for military." he murmurs, unable to hold eye contact for long.

"military? makes sense now with all that muscles." you hum, giving a gentle squeeze to his bicep. "i've been like 'this' since i was a teenager, first got into the music through my parents and then discovered how much i enjoyed the style and makeup. haven't looked back since, brings in a lot of unwanted attention though. guys asking me to be their goth mommy on nights out or even dates, like what the fuck?" you shake your head, laughing with him with your hand still resting on his bicep.

"guys actually ask you that? fuckin' hell and i thought i was bad at flirting." simon bites, throwing back the rest of his drink before placing the empty glass onto the bar.

you laugh loudly at his words, shaking your head before finishing your own drink. "trust me, you're one of the best so far. little shy though eh?" you tease, giving another squeeze to his arm before standing up.

once you are standing up straight, you turn to your friend and explain your plan to her. she laughs and smiles, gently smacking you in a playful way before agreeing.

you turn back around and go up onto your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his ear, "i'm going out for a smoke, if you'd like to join me." you whisper, pulling back to stare up at him.

silently simon nods and follows you outside, glaring at any men who even glance in your direction while you make it out the bar. he is under the impression it will just be a friendly smoke together but oh boy was he wrong.

as soon as the both of you are outside, you are dragging him down a dark alleyway around the corner. your arms wrap around his neck and pull him down until your lips are just brushing. "can i kiss you?" you ask while looking into his eyes, hoping he’ll say yes.

simon is caught off guard, his eyes widening as you easily pull him down closer to you. “su-sure.” he mutters before he feels your lips pressing to his in a slow kiss. his arms gently wrap around your waist, bringing his body flush to yours as he deepens the kiss.

after a minute or so, the two of you pull away panting quietly. you giggle softly as you look at him and simon pulls a confused expression. “what you laughing at?” he grumbles, pink flushing his cheeks.

“a bit of my black lipstick is smudged on your lips big guy.” you smile cheekily, bringing your thumb to your mouth to lick before gently swiping at simon’s face to get rid of the evidence. he smiles down at you as he feel you wiping at the lipstick left behind.

he then works up the courage to ask the big question. “so, will i be able to get your number?” he utters, holding your waist a little tighter as he stares down at you. the question makes you chuckle, your head nodding. “yes you definitely can have my number.” you answer, smiling happily up at him.

[graysnetwork]

So I kinda gave up on running my story through Grammarly, so please bare with me here.

Also, I found the audio and listened to it as I wrote this to see how I would write the story, this is also my first time completely writing smut so pls don't be rude or I will delete 🙈

I will take yalls constructive criticism, so thanks ☺️

LEON KENNEDY x READER (smut..)

Read warnings pls

Edit: FOUND IT — I found it meiiioo’s acc (yes on tumblr) creds to them and audio maker!!

Warnings: afab!reader, consensual‼️, pet names, spanking, praise, fingering, mating press, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, baby talk, creampie.

Summary— reader lost a bet and has to wear a bunny suit for the rest of the weekend, now their friend and roommate are sitting in his room getting ready to watch a show, but Leon is very annoying with all his teasing.

You were coming out of your room as Leon walked through the door, you hadn’t seen him this morning which you were grateful for.

“Hey I was gonna order takeout for dinner, do you-“ he was cut off by the sight of you, in a bunny costume “w-what in the world are you wearing?” He asks with a chuckle, this was odd to say the least; for the both of you. “A bunny costume” you say bluntly, it was embarrassing, and you were just hoping he wouldn’t make too much fun of you.

“I see that it’s a bunny costume, but, why?” He asks as he looks you up and down repeatedly, “I lost a bet with my friends” you admit, “no fucking way, since when do you take bets? Last time I checked, you pussied out of anything that needed any ounce of courage” he said and you pushed him.

“I’m just saying the truth, but, how long are you gonna have to wear it?” He asks, he was your roommate and your friend after all, so he was gonna be the one who would have to see you during this.

“The rest of the weekend..” you admit, situating the headband for what felt like the fifteenth time, “the rest of the weekend?” He almost didn’t believe you, he began laughing at you.

Making fun of you and asking if you’d like him to be your magician, you hit him again, lightly. He stopped the joke.

“Why don’t you just, not wear it? It’s not like your friends are gonna know” he suggests, “I pinky promised though” you tell him, he chuckles, “Why am I not surprised that you still do that?” He asks as he chuckles again.

—

“You can’t expect me to stop making fun of you” he says as the two of you lay on his bed, ready to watch a show, “stop it with the teasing Leon” you tell him, it was already beginning to annoy you.

“Or what? Your the least intimidating person in the entire apartment complex” he chuckles “It’s not like you could do anything about it” he says as he laughed a little more.

You kicked him a bit hard and he groaned but continued the teasing.

“Okay stop that, im serious” he said before you kicked him again and he got tired of it and grabbed you, and pinned you down, “you just had to be a fucking brat huh?” He asks you “what are you gonna do?” You ask as he keeps you pinned to the bed.

“I dunno bunny, what should I do?” He asks, a smirk appears on his face, you could feel his pants and how a bulge was beginning to appear in them and with how close he was, the bulge was right near your clit. You could feel it, and if you were being honest it didn't feel bad, you didn’t even think about it until he brought it up— “Why're you moving your hips like that bunny?” He asked.

His voice now sounded airy, and it took all of him to stop himself from moaning at your movements.

He flipped you over onto your stomach and laid you over his thighs, “never met a bunny, that is a brat” he said, dragging his hands down to your ass, “I know you want this bunny, tell me your okay with this..” he said, he waited for your answer.

You nodded and hummed a “mhm” for him, which made him happy, to hear you admit you wanted him.

“Listen, you just tell me when to stop..” he said trailing off and rubbing your ass more now.

“mmm’your ass, with this cute cotton tail, just looks so good” he said, “it’s fucking perfect..” he said, as his hand left your ass before he smacked it.

“Oh? Wasn’t expecting that huh bunny?” He asks almost in a mocking tone. “It’s what a brat like you deserves, no?” He asks as he smacks you ass again.

Your whimpers only made him like this more.

“how many..” you ask as you fix the headband again, “how many? However many I want bunny, plus your making such” he spanks you again, almost harder than the last one “pretty noises” he finishes as you whimper again.

He laughs at the sight of you, before rubbing your ass again, “oh bunny, look at how red your ass is..” he cooed as he kneaded it. “Your so beautiful huh?” He said, the change from his actions and praise could make you dizzy.

“My pretty bunny, yeah” he said before spanking you again, it caught you off guard, “your mine, y’not gonna let anyone else do this to you right?” He asked and nodded with a simple “yeah”

“Good bunny” he rubbed your ass, almost like a reward, before smacking you again, it seemed like a rhythm now. “My good, pretty bunny” with ever word he said aloud he smacked your ass each time, before kneading it.

“c’mere, it’s okay baby” he said, allowing you to get up and straddle him, which you did, almost out of fear he’d surprise you with another slap to your butt.

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded, “yeah, I’m okay” you said as his hands returned to your ass and he nodded before kissing you. “mm’ffuck you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that” he admitted as he pulled away from your lips.

“you’ve been wanting this?” You asked quietly, and he nodded as he kissed your neck, “been wanting this since the moment I saw you” he said returning his lips to your neck. If you were being honest, Leon was handsome, and you’d been wanting to make a move on him, so maybe this bunny costume wasn’t so bad.

“Don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before baby” he admits as he kisses your collar bone, you shiver at the way his lips feel on your skin, the way he places wet kisses there.

“keep making those pretty noises” he says as he kisses the other side of your neck. “look at the way your nipples look against this fabric hon” he said staring at your chest. “just begging for my attention huh? I’ll give it to you” he says he tugs a bit at them.

You let out a whimper “sensitive huh?” He asks.

How could you forget?

It’s ovulation week.

Leon pulls you out of your thoughts when he tugs at your bunny suit. “This is a one piece, no?” He asks knowingly, sliding your arms out. “just perfect to give me access to everything..” he says, pulling the suit down your body.

Revealing everything to him, your chest, to your genitals, it felt very exposing, but at the same time you liked the way Leon stared at your body in awe.

He moved his fingers down to your pussy, and rubbed his thumb over your clit, “so wet, I’m only rubbing your clit baby..” he teased you as he leaned into kiss you again while rubbing more.

“Can I slide my finger in bunny?” He asked, he stared at you intently before you nodded, he slid his finger in as he kissed you again, he pulled away slightly after kissing you “mmm’fuck your so fuckin hot..” he admitted as he kissed you again, his breathing quickened as well with every movement of his fingers sliding in and out.

“You want two?” he asks, before you could give him a yes he slid his middle finger in as well, a quiet whimper escaped your lips once again. “Love the way your movin your hips baby” he mumbled against you.

“want more, we both do” he said and curled his fingers, moving quicker, “m’your so good, your a good bunny” he mumbled before kissing you again.

“mmmhm” he hummed as he stared your pussy. “yeah come all over my fingers, squirmy bunny..” he said as he felt you clench all around his fingers. “bet y’taste delicious” he said as he lowered himself to your cunt.

“can I taste you princess? I bet you wanna be cleaned, right?” He asked for permission, before you nodded “mkay” you muttered and he looked at you, staring into your eyes as he connected his lips to your pussy, lapping at it, sliding his tongue over the slit and sucking on your clit.

“mm’bunny, you want a pillow?” He asked nicely against your pussy, it was a contrast to what he was doing, sucking at your clit with all he could, you let out a quiet moan, and he pulled away from your pussy, you let out a dissatisfied noise before he lifted your head up gently and placed a pillow below you.

It was easy to forget how nice he was, especially with he was treating you and.. your ass. But the gentleness from his hands made you feel comforted.

“I want you now bunny… you see how hard I am?” He said unzipping his pants and pulling both his pants and boxers down to let his cock be visible to you. You could see the precum smeared on his boxers.

You almost didn’t notice him lower back to your pussy until he said— “yeah put your legs over my shoulders, I’ll make you feel good, y’trust me bunny?” He asked licking at your clit again.

You nod and mutter a “yeah, I trust you”

“Good, now can I get inside this perfect cunt?” He asked you as you nodded, “good girl, bunny” he said as he slid his cock in.

He gave you a minute to adjust to his size, and used that time to give you a few hickeys on your collarbone and neck.

He moved very slightly and heard you quietly ask if he could move now, he nodded for you and moaned as he started moving. “mm’ffuck bunny, you feel so good” he said as his skin slapped against you.

“Your so warm around me” he said kissing you “just take it” he put more weight on you to fuck deeper into you, “yeah take it bunny, that’s my sweet bunny, sweet n’sexy bunny” he said.

“Too much for you? too deep for my bunny to handle?” He asked, even if you said yes he probably wouldn’t have stopped, only if you asked him too, he could tell you enjoyed this, maybe even a bit more than him.

“You still okay baby?” He asked as he went quicker and harder into you “y-yeah” was all you could get out before he kissed you again. “Fuck that’s it, yeah..” he trailed off as he slammed harder, if that was even possible.

“My perfect bunny” he said, “y’close? Yeah?” He asked as you nodded at his first question, “me too, m’gonna come with you, yeah” he said kissing your cheek.

“That’s it, shit, if you keep squeezing me like that, I’ll come” “mm’ffuck” he started getting a little lost in it two, as he began whimpering and trying to go quicker for you to reach your high.

“You want me to come in you bunny?” He asked, “yeah you’d like the idea of having some kids with me after I fill you up, huh?” He asked again as he was on the verge of coming. “I’d love to fuck some bunnies in you” he muttered, you almost didn’t hear him.

He reaches down and starts playing with our clit, “yeah you love that baby, you should see your face” he says rubbing only a little bit faster, “want you to come with me” he said.

“fuck” he said softly as he came along with you, and kissed you gently, his movement didn’t stop he continued sliding his cock as deep as he could in you but he was slower now, more gentle almost.

He gave you a second to rest before he slid out of you slowly, making sure you’d feel all of him.

He groaned quietly at the sight of you, “it’s leaking out of you bunny” he said as he stared at your guy’s cum mixed together, “you look so… sexy” he said “wanna get a taste of what we’re like, together” he said as he lowered himself down to your cunt again.

“m’no, too sensitive right, right now” you mumbled as you pulled softly at his hair. He chuckled quietly at your attempts to pull his face away from your cunt.

“Your too sensitive? I know baby, I know” he cooed “you can come for me again bunny, you have one more left for me, no?” He asked with a soft tone, hoping it would help his chances.

You decided to nod, you wanted it, you’d wanted him for a while now so why would you turn down his offer down.

He lapped at your pussy, sucking at your clit and even kissing it at some point, it was all so much and you came faster than the last two times. Maybe it was because you were sensitive, or it could possibly be because he was the first guy in your life to be so good at eating pussy.

He pulled away and laid down next to you while pulling you to lay on your side to look at him.

“been wanting to do that for so long” he admitted and placed another kiss on your cheek, “me, me too” you said relaxing, and snuggling up closer to him for more warmth.

“Really, I guess you should’ve worn a bunny costume sooner huh?” He said chuckling, “maybe” you simply said as you smiled at him. “Hm, I think we should clean up” he suggested and you nodded, “we should talk about, us” he said.

Right, now that you’ve had sex with your roommate and long-ish time crush, you should establish what you two were now. “C’mon bunny, I’ll clean you up, I’m sure a shower together would be nice right?” He said, as he picked you up by the back of your thighs.

“Yeah, a shower does sound good” you said wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder.

“and, since my bed is a mess how about I sleep with you tonight, wouldn’t want you to get cold” he said as he carried you into the bathroom. “Yeah” you said.

“you didn’t actually mean what you said right? That you liked the idea of fucking me to have kids, or as you said bunnies” you asked, “ah, uh, well I don’t hate the idea of having some bunnies with you, don’t get me wrong you’d look, great, pregnant” he chuckled “but only if you want them too, I’ll stuff you full of my cum as much as want and need” he said in a reassuring way.

“I don’t know if, having kids in university is the best idea, but I’m not opposed to having your babies” you said, it caught him by surprise, he had to take a quick moment to collect his thoughts.

“Yeah, but, you would look hot pregnant”

—

The end 😊 (happy ever after idk)

[missgeniality]

Strip Lawyer (m)

“Rules are for children.” - Joe Abercrombie

➺ Banner: The supremely talented @dnrequests 💛

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

��� Trope: Tutor!AU, Lawyer!AU

➺ Genre: Smut

➺ Rating: +18

➺ Word Count: 8.4k

➺ Summary: Years ago, as Jungkook’s tutor, you played a game – but not to completion. Today, he does the teaching. And he’s intent on reaching the finale.

➺ Warnings: dom!reader x sub!jk then dom!jk x sub!reader, strip poker but education, implied consent, little power imbalance, seggsual tension, restraints, oral sex (m&f receiving), grinding, jungkook is a tease as always, dirty talk, kissing, alcohol, boob play ehehe, fingering (f receiving), pussy slap, spitting, tearing clothes, biting, degradation, unprotected sex, jk cums on her ass, cum eating (kind of)

➺ Cross Posted: AO3

➺ Author’s Note: This was supposed to be @taegularities‘s birthday gift because she asked for Lawyer!AU - but in true Siya fashion, it went out of control. So... here you go LOL happy buttday to youuu, hope you enjoy ittt 💛💛 The biggest thanks to @jimilter because she is the reason I did not delete the draft, thank you so much for all your help in fixing this mess, love you so muuucchh 💛 Also huge huge huge thanks to @alpacaseoks​ for helping me with the flow and giving me pointers in a big chunk of the fic, I appreciate it so much! 💛 Disclaimer: I am not a law student in any way so please don’t expect any accuracy. Just enjoy the sex, I’m begging. Let me know what y’all think, and as always, thank you for being here! 

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ  

“You’re not serious.”

If only he knew. 

“So. Serious.” You emphasise your words with a slap on his shoulder, “I won’t have it on my honour that a student under my tutelage has been failing the same subject for two years.” You raise an eyebrow at the hunched figure ahead, and knock on the table to bring his attention up to you. 

“So you’ll just… Strip? Everytime I answer correctly?”

“That’s right,” you confirm, “and for every wrong answer, you strip for me. Simple.” You give Jungkook the widest grin you ever have, possibly too wide, because he only hunches further into his seat. 

And it finally bursts your bubble.

“I mean… I’m just–you don’t have to do this, okay?” You scramble up from your seat, opening the distance between you two – placing yourself a good few feet away from the boy. “I was just… having fun with the idea—” With stumbling haste you continue to comfort him, “I jus–isn’t this like classic nerd porn that you’d watch?”

And you remember that comforting a fellow human being isn’t really your forte. You’re ready to gather all your belongings that are spread across the table, run away, change your name and hope like hell he doesn’t file you up for harassment. 

Thankfully, your shabby attempt at damage control does ease Jungkook, and his back straightens a little bit as he brings himself to look at you.

“Not wrong,” he gives you a grin, “I–I really like that, umm, idea. Yes, let’s do it.”

He trails off, but not without a smile of burgeoning confidence – apparently not enough to finish that sentence with, but enough to give you one strong nod – and you have the affirmation you need. More affirmation is given by his not-so-subtle shift in his seat, that shows you something was making its presence known in the confines of his pants.

“All right, let’s start this. International Law and Relations is pretty easy, and actually has very interesting sub-topics – you can take subjects on this topic when you move to the next semester,” you pause flipping through the textbook and give your tutee, “if you move to the next semester. Thankfully, this year you have multiple choice questions, so… You better fucking pass, you hear me?!”

Jungkook only gives you a sheepish grin, his hands fiddling with each other.

“Okay, we’ll go through chapters randomly. Your first one – what is a country’s exclusive economic zone?”

On completing the question, you look up and await an answer – but the doe eyes that greet you back showcase that behind them, there is a lot of emptiness. Jungkook’s eyebrows are raised as he tries his best to push out any answer, any words, just anything from his brain. Alas, after two minutes, you give up.

“Okay, you’re going first then,” your voice breaks his intense thought process, and he flashes you a wide grin. 

“Socks count right?” He pulls off the socks on both his feet, and wiggles his toes against the fresh air. 

“Why you wear socks in this weather, it’s beyond me,” you huff an exasperated sigh, “but okay. One down. Exclusive economic zones are the sea-areas where coastal states have the right to exploit resources for economic gains. Think fisheries, mining, construction, artificial islands, and other endeavours. Capisce?”

“Got it. Next!”

“Love the enthusiasm,” you grin at his eager look, and open the textbook to a random page again, “okay, same chapter, what are the three international air laws?”

“Oh, I know this! I read thi–uhh, Public International Law, Private International Law…”

“Yesss? And?”

“Why is my brain saying Supernatural Law?”

One look at his bamboozled face and you burst out laughing. “Supranational Law! Not Superna—” Your persistent giggles have you dropping the book onto your lap, hands rushing to wipe a tear that makes its way down your cheek. You can see a bleary Jungkook, following suit in your snickers, his shoulders rising up – it’s a very cute view. 

No, Jungkook is not your type of guy – and you will not make him. 

You’re actually supposed to wrap up this session with Jungkook earlier than usual – because a party doesn’t wait for anyone – and last night Baekhyun told you he’d pick you up. When you asked him whether the party was, he only sent you a smirking emoji as a response. 

Rude boys are your standard, and Baekhyun fits it to the tee. Jungkook, not so much.

But now you’ve started something that can’t possibly end soon. 

“Okay, next item!” You aim to be loud, to quell that finagling thought in your mind.

“But—” Jungkook sputters out, “but I got that right?! Come on, it was close enough!”

You shake your head. “A hundred, or nothing. Chop chop,” you wave a gratuitous hand at his torso – and he obliges with a sigh.

God damn. 

The gamer nerd, who probably doesn’t see the light of day – his body is way too beautiful for his character arc. You scan his whole chest with your glaring beam, pecs ogling back at you – totally unaware of how Jungkook is doing the same to you – it takes considerable effort for you to rip your eyeballs out and get them to focus back on his face. 

You take a large, audible gulp to facilitate speech, “Okay, didn’t know that’s what would greet me – moving on—”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean absolutely nothing, you closeted hottie,” you attempt to close that argument with that sole compliment – after all, you do have a tutoring responsibility – but Jungkook’s singular raised eyebrow makes you wonder if that party is really worth it.

Oh no, you need to make him pass this.

“Let’s move on now, or else you won’t ever move on from college,” you deflate whatever ego-ballooning Jungkook has – his bare shoulders slumping back to his hunched posture – and you internally grin. 

Picking up the thick textbook, you flip through to find a new page laced with information.  “Name three international hybrid tribunals, and their subject matter.”

“Okay okay, I just did this,” Jungkook starts off with confident, “the Special Tribunal for Lebanon, which is for the the prosecution of the people responsible for the assassination of the Lebanese Prime Minister, Special Court for Sierra Leone—” he pauses to take a deep breath and you watch his chest heave with an intent gaze, “which was for the Sierra Leone civil war, and finally… What was the–uhh– for the Kosovo War… Yes! Yes! Kosovo Specialist Chambers! The Kosovo Liberation army was put on trial,” he ends with a gleeful smile.

“There you gooo! See, you can totally do this,” you give him an encouraging nod, “what do you want me to take off?”

“O-oh, umm, your top?”

“Sure,” setting the book on the table, you slip out of your camisole, shaking your head to send your hair back to their place, “shall we move on?” 

But moving on gets tougher when he eyes you like that. The air gets denser within your space, the room feeling too small to escape the tension, and too big to act upon it. You remind yourself multiple times – this chocolate boy isn’t going to be the end of your night – your night ends on Baekhyun’s unspoken promise – but the eclipsing eyes that follow your neon bralette are pushing your brain to reconsider how you write this evening. 

“You–uh–you are really hot,” Jungkook’s fumbling words finally reach you.

You chuckle, stifling the urge to egg him on. “Thank you,” is your quiet response, and you both do well to stifle the snowballing tension.

“Okay, now I’m way more motivated to get my answers right,” he exclaims with vigour, and the two of you trudge forward, keeping up this charade of studies. 

Many questions down, and you’re at quite the standstill. 

Jungkook sits on his chair, not an inch of clothing on his body, stark naked – and you are about to lose your bra. 

Apparently he can apply himself real well when there are lewd incentives at the end of the rainbow. You circumvented the inevitable, counting riddance of jewellery and accessories as stripping – but now you’re out of options. Jungkook’s lips – pulled into a tender smirk that isn't racy – don’t threaten to sweep you off your feet – but fuck, they still get to you. Supple, with the slightest hint of moisture making his waterline glisten… you ache to taste them, to run your fingers over them, to drip honey all over them and watch them turn sweeter than ever. 

You need to get on Baekhyun’s dick. ASAP.

“Go on, I know that was right!”

Breaking out of your reverie with a demure huff, you smile your way out of your bra, and you can fully hear the deep inhale that your tutee has to take to this new view. With a brazen look of gloating, you cross your arms, letting your eyes and your cleavage do all the teasing – lest your tongue stumbles over the words and lands in his mouth. 

“Shi–yo–you’re—” Jungkook’s words falter as well, giving you an extra boost of pride. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot – I’m sorry, is this the fifth time I’m saying this?”

You laugh with him. “Yeah, probably. Could use a thesaurus.”

“I don’t think my brain will process anything on it. This keeps coming out because I got practice. Said it about a hundred times in my head.”

With your head thrown back, your whole body jiggles in laughter, filling the room with mirth and joy to replace the leaden lust in the air. You bend forward to flick his forehead, knowing full well that the movement just makes your breasts look more enticing; if that was even a possibility. His cock is stiff as iron, and you can fill a drying lake with your current rate of salivation. Both of you clearly recognize that words are flowing slower than before, movements are more calculated than before, and most importantly, eye contact lasts way too long for either of you to ignore. 

“Okay, umm, last question, then I need to be off.” You attempt to bring a close to this increasing strain in your throat, no matter how badly your body wants to delay your departure. “What years did the Hague Conventions take place?”

“I hate these questions,” murmurs Jungkook, “I remember the subject matters of it – it’s not like knowing the exact dates and times will help me avert war.” His pout makes you falter, like there isn’t a fully grown naked man in front of you, like he isn’t testing your limits right now.

“So… No answer?” 

Jungkook shakes his hung head, having given up on finding an answer. “What now, I can’t peel my skin or something,” he starts, a very innocent tone for this ambiance.

“Yeah, I mean, I gotta g—”

“And I’m out of jewellery, too, so—”

“Yeah, it’s cool, I’m gonna head out anyw—”

“You wanna tie me up or something?”

Silence. 

Too long of a silence. 

“I mea—”

“Jeon. Jung. Kook.” Your staccato of words work as a beat, your legs moving in its sync. You bend down for a brief moment to pick up his discarded t-shirt, but the rest of your movement wastes no time in finding a seat on his lap.

His dick presses against your clothed core, imbuing the ache that he currently feels, and goody – you both are in serious pain. And when you lean ahead to gather his hands into a knot on his back, he takes a sharp inhale – your breasts doing everything his dick-led-brain has been wanting for the whole session – pressing against his chest to feel every throb that races through your body.

“You have no filter,” you whisper into his ear, making sure he feels your damp lips move, “do you?”

“N–N–I, me–nngghh,” Jungkook labours through this ordeal, his hips going the extra mile to close the gap between you two. 

When you feel his hardness work against your pulsing clit, it only eggs you further, and the rudderless ship of your resolve yaws out of its lane, finding its anchor in the parted lips in your view.

If your surroundings could combust at the spark that you set off with the kiss, you’d be sitting in a castle of embers, licks of flames being innocent bystanders to the heat that your kiss generates. Your fingertips dig into the nape of his neck, and you swallow his groan with an eager tongue. Without a break, the kiss turns feral. 

You push into his mouth. He returns in kind – although there’s nothing kind about the way he digs his teeth into your lip. The hiss you attempt to release never makes it out to the world – Jungkook is intent on ending this kiss only when the last breaths in your bodies threaten to leave, carrying along with them your consciousness. 

And when that point comes, you part – your head is thrown back, and your hand carded in his hair pulls his back as well. Brisk, shallow breathing is the tune to which you gather your bearings. Your thighs burn for relief, the ache of holding your body in place settling in as the dopamine dies. From your awkward position, you flit an eye towards your partner in crime – and any dopamine that was dying, comes rushing back.

Your hands are still in the lush strands of his hair, and his lidded eyes are bouncing between many areas of view. Your libidinous eyes, your wet lips, your heaving breasts, or the junction of your thighs that give his hardness teasing touches. Maintaining this position, you dig into his cock, your flimsy underwear allowing your arousal to caress against his hot and awaiting length. He groans – it’s animalistic, it’s uninhibited, it’s none of the shy gamer nerd who cowered under the weight of your knowledge. His eyes, fervid, shuttle between all of your exposed skin, finding an anchor, but failing to stop.

“Look at you, is this what you really wanted?” It shocks you how far your voice shakes – what caused it – the kissing, the breathing, or the rock hard cock currently against your throbbing pussy? Who knows. 

“I mean… We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want this,” Jungkook bites out an answer with great difficulty, “I—I definitely wan—ungh!”

You just can’t resist. His neck. His clavicles. His bobbing Adam’s apple. His chest. His restrained arms making a tireless effort to feel you. You leech onto his sparkling skin, and drag your tongue in the confines – Jungkook’s words transform into unintelligent warble, just the way you like. 

Sliding downward, and acknowledging the slight ‘fuck’ that Jungkook exhales with a smirk, you lodge yourself directly in front of his broad, heaving chest. The position is awkward — a lot of your body weight lays on your hands that balance you on the chair’s seat – but your current view makes any pain go away. 

“Could this be the reason,” you land a soft peck in the middle of his chest, “why your grades are like this,” trailing your path with your nose, you move left, “we could have just gotten this over with,” you end the sentence with a swirl of your tongue around his already pebbling nipple. 

He hisses a string of unintelligible curses, arching into your ministrations, “Yo–you’d have d–done tha—” His train of thought ends with an audible gasp when you engulf the nipple in your mouth.

“For my tutee,” you release his nipple with a pop and look back up at his eager-to-please-face, cupping a cheek, “anything.”

“Can y—can you get rid of thi–this?” He shakes his bound hands from behind, his shoulder muscles bulging in the movement.

You simply shoot him an innocent look. “But you asked for it, didn’t you?”

“I thought that was the best thing that could happen to me,” Jungkook huffs with a light pout, “right now, I’m regretting it so hard.” As he speaks, you move to trail a soft line of kisses across his chest, reaching his other, neglected nipple. With your eyes locked in with his, you lick around the nub again, enjoying his restrained groans from your vantage.

“You don’t like it? What would you do if you… could touch me?”

“Fuck, I would—I wo—God, I would wrap myself around you… take a big piece of that ass, tear off your fuckin’ underwear… Grab your tits and dig my face into them till it’s time to execute my will—”

You chortle, still busy teasing his chest and making it hard for him to make his words flow. “You don’t need your hands for the last one baby.” 

Your skin rumbles against the loud groans of pleasure that come out of Jungkook when you press his face into your chest, and you feel him frantically lick and suck at your skin, tongue lolling at whatever it could catch a taste of.

“Ahh, this is—making me want some very bad things,” you chuckle at the throes of pleasure he is pushing you under, but are surprised at yourself how much your voice quivers as well. Jungkook makes a show of fighting his restraints; you very well know that you don’t have a sailor’s knot guide on you, and the fight he’s putting up is not more than the fight you had been putting up throughout this evening.

“Bad things?” Jungkook’s breathy whisper brings you back to his lips, and you drop back on his lap, grinding yourself just enough to let your wetness cover his twitching length. “You’re my tutor, I–I’m sure you only want the best for me.”

With your show of repress finally curtained, you drop to your knees, arching your back until you’re face-to-face with his member – tip leaking copious amounts of precum, owing to the hours of tension that you put him through. Jungkook’s thighs tighten under your enrapt gaze, and his staccato breathing is music to your ears. 

“Well, since I am your tutor,” you preen before you drag your tongue around the base of his dick, “and since I want only the best for you,” you drag your tongue up his muscle in one long stroke, “let me give you the best that I have.”

You wrap your lips around him thinking about how sweet he looks. You draw figures with your tongue thinking about how he's absolutely not your type. You suck more of his length into you thinking about how his moans differ from your average partner. So sweet. So pure. So untainted. 

So, so not for you.

Perhaps sweet is what you nee—

“I’m gonna cu—” 

The shrill ring of your phone pierces through Jungkook’s uncontained moans as he empties into your mouth recklessly. With your eyes closed, you try your best to savour the crisp, salty taste, letting your tongue cheekily lap at his member until you feel him shudder under your stimulation. Satiated, you get to your feet, looking eye to eye with the doe-eyed monster – who has the gall to look so pure even now, hands tied, balls empty.

“I should… Get that.” 

Unsurprisingly, Baekhyun is pissed that you kept his premium cock waiting at your doorstep, and you appease his injured ego while finding your clothes and bearings. Jungkook relieves himself of the ‘restraints’, eyes following your disrobed body as it finds its modesty back, piece by piece. 

“Okay… my phone, my book, my jewellery… I think I got everything,” you announce to the small, overheated room. “Jungkook. Good luck, this is the one thing you gotta pass, make sure you reread chapters 8 to 11, don’t blindly mark something because it sounds reasonable because nothing in this world is, make sure you have eno—”

“But! Listen—” His voice, still so sweet, not a hint of demanding assertion in his tone, just plain and beautiful pleading. “Wh–when can we… Umm when can we m–meet again?”

Ugh, your heart. 

“Listen, I’m going away on vacation, my exams are over,” with a mildly heavy heart you try to explain to him without rushing, “that’s why this was our last class. And after that, I’ll be moving away. But!” With a spring in your step you open his door to let yourself out. “Keep in touch! Keep texting me, okay?” With your second shoe on, you stand at the stairs leading you out of his apartment, and look at him for one last word.

And you see his beautiful body and almost crumble back into his apartment. 

“Yeah… Will do, bye!” He pulls himself together and grants you a bright, guilt-free smile.

So sweet, even when you’re blowing him off. So, so sweet. 

But you don’t do sweet. So accepting his goodbye, you run like a deer being chased by the hungriest predator, towards the spice that awaits at your door.

Damned professional attires. Why can’t they look good without having to be tended to every fucking day? 

You curse yourself for the cup ramen breakfast that ruined your only good shirt, owing to which you have this stainless but wrinkled shirt on you. It is very out of place, the lush lobby walls making you feel like every crease on you is magnified by a thousand. 

It’s obviously not the shirt that is making your stomach gurgle. It is the upcoming meeting that is creating turmoil in your insides, part dread and part excitement.

“He will see you now.”

This guy has a receptionist and an assistant. Why is he so boujee? One look at his office door and you already know – this meeting will not go as per plan.

And when you push the heavy-set mahogany door, and take the man sitting at the baroque desk, silhouette highlighted by the clear night sky behind him – you’re certain this night was made for trouble. 

“Ah, look who it is.” 

That voice. So different from the last time you spoke. Gone is the tender, dulcet voice of his, gone are his soft, vulnerable eyes, and gone is the benevolent disposition that he carried around with pride.

As he takes a good, slow look at you, assessing you from top to bottom, gleaming with mischievous confidence, you shuffle in discomfort at all this directed display of interest. The million twinkles in eyes have coagulated to turn into a ball of inferno. With that blaze, he drags his eyes all over you, tracing your contours with the pens of his gaze, making you feel nails and needles through your spine. Unabashed. Doesn’t care that you’re waiting to take a seat, doesn’t care about your obvious discomfiture, just holding you at your place like a puppet to his watchful leer. The black-on-black suit fits his body like a dream, and the things you want to do to him are straight out of a nightmare.

“Please, why are you still standing?” His assessment complete, he waves an arm to the plush leather seats at your disposal. “Have a seat.”

Moments of uncomfortable silence pass by you, but only you seem bothered by it. You hate how fidgety you are right now, showing your cards so plainly. But truth be told, you have no cards to show. You’re here for his help, and there’s no game to be played with him.

“You’ve done well for yourself,” you offer, making a general gesture to show his entire office space. You could fit nineteen of your cubicles in here, and still have space to waltz around. Your incessant jumping from one firm to another, attempts at finding footing wherever you land but ultimate dissatisfaction with whatever was presented to you led to a not-so-stellar career, and tonight, to this office. 

“Thanks.” He offers nothing more. And his lack of words definitely stings. 

How did someone who breezed through law school end up like this?

More importantly, how did someone who was barely passing subjects under you end up in a position of such power?

And most important of them all, how did you end up being at his mercy?

"So tell me,” he begins once again, bursting your bubble of self-detestation, “how can I help you?"

You take a deep, rich breath and start. "I'm assuming you read my email, so I just nee—"

"You're gonna have to pause right there. I didn't." A simple response, with a simple smile, and you simply want to crawl into a hole and never see sunlight ever again. Jungkook doesn’t even try to explain himself out of this – no excuse or reasons given as to why the email remains unread. And as happenstance would have it, you are in no position to ask him why.

"Very well." You tap the file ahead, taking a deep breath and starting again, "This file should have it all. It’s better if you read through it, I might miss details." 

Jungkook’s extended, bejewelled hand accepts the file, and leafs through the bundle of papers you’ve prepared for him. But that is not what you’re internalising. You're too busy furtively eyeing his bedecked office, the wooden panels offering a private divide between the office space and a separate seating area. The ritzy furniture establishing the space, the lavish lighting giving more depth to the space, the skyline flaunting its glory above it all – you're fraught with uncontrollable envy.

A call to your name jolts you, moving your eyes to him. 

“So do you need me as co-counsel? I hardly think you need the help.”

“Please, don’t patronise me,” you chide him, the repressed irritation showing its face. “I know I’ve not had the best set of years in this field. And I know I fucked up on this one, pardon my French.”

“Well,” he pays no heed to your agitated tone, pushing the file back to you – just enough, so you are forced to get up to reach, “you’re right about that. You fucked up. I can definitely look into this, but I have a heavy workload as it is.” He simply shrugs, a mock-saintly frown on his lips.

What happened to your sugar-cookie boy who would do anything to make you proud? 

Who is this man?

“I know, but I’m—” You swallow everything in you that stops the words, “I’m desperate. This meeting was clearly out of desperation. I know you knew what this was about. Why would you accept an appointment this late if you weren’t going to take on the job?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see you. Maybe I was curious what my tutor was doing, after leaving me high and dry that fateful night.”

He says it with such a harmless smile, like he just announced what he had for dinner. If you weren’t shaken yet, you now are. 

“If I remember correctly, that was not the case. But for now, I’m asking for your help. That’s how I’m doing.”

“Yeah well,” with a smooth move, he gets out of his charcoal seat, and glides towards the tasteful couches placed on the other end of this palatial office, your heartbeat picking up pace from a gentle jog to a frantic pace, “I think I’m entitled to something in return.”

You follow him to the couch across the room, seating yourself on it – and taking a second to enjoy how comfortable it feels. “I literally swallowed your load that night. If anything, I’m the one entitled to this.”

“I’m sure your boy-toy that night gave you everything you needed, didn’t he?”

Deep breath. He remembers the night very well. Too well.

Did you expect that? No. 

Did you want to find out?

Well, why else did you choose his name from a catalogue of high-end lawyers who could have saved your ass in this case?

What’s that saying… Curiosity kills your pus—

“Listen,” you interrupt your own reverie, “you will receive remuneration for your work, my boss is ready to—”

“Nuh–uh,” he tuts, “come on now, we really don’t need to play this cat and mouse game, do we?”

A deep exhale calms your nerves against this burgeoning yet desired situation, and you leave your seat to accept the glass of whiskey he’s offering you. After returning to the couch and gulping the hootch, you meet his accursed, biting gaze. “What can we even wager on like that night? It’s not like I have test questions to ask you anymore,” you throw the ball back into his court, desperately hoping he finds a good enough solution.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he teases you, sliding into the seat – it’s unbearable how good he looks with this confidence. He gets in your space, still holding his undrunk glass of whiskey, peering into your eyes as he makes his proposal. “I think a bit of role reversal will do us good,” he smiles back at you. “Do you good.”

“My definition of good, or yours?”

He smiles at your attempt at feigning confidence. “I don’t think they differ by much.”

In this quietude, the frenetic beating of your heart rings all the way up in your ears. It is a testament to how agog this transformed man leaves you; by the way he speaks, the way he looks, the way he commands your entire being. Words fail you, so you whisper a small ‘yeah’ and nod – you definitely knew where this night was going the moment you called his office, even if your ego strives hard to say otherwise.

“Let’s start simple,” he begins with a slap to his thigh, seating himself comfortably, “where did you go that night?”

What tactic is this? You’re baffled that this man – looking like a Michelin-star-seven-course-meal – cares about that one immaterial night.

Was it really immaterial, though?

Youngling Jungkook was probably offended, you posit to yourself, by the way you left things hanging (pun very much intended). 

“How would you know if I lie?”

“I’ll decide that.” His eyes add “and you’ll follow.” No room for discussion is provided.

“Right.” You sip on your refilled glass, clearing your throat before you answer, “I don’t know if you know him, Byun Baekhyun.” You look in his eyes for recognition, but you can’t read anything, anything at all. “I had to meet him.”

“To fuck?”

“Well, yes. Drinks and then that.” 

“Okay, I’ll take that.” 

And you’ve passed question one – all your clothing fully intact.

“Next question,” his eyes filled with sensual mirth, “was he any good?”

“Oh my God,” you throw your hands up, ready to leave the seat in a show of exasperation, “are you—is this insecurity? After all these years?”

“Well, I’m asking the questions, so I don’t owe you an explanation,” Jungkook leans into the cushions, his confident manner growing with each passing second, “but you might say, I’m curious.”

A moment of silence passes. 

“Yes.”

“Ahh…” He tuts at you, inching closer until you feel the microfibres of his coat against you, “Wrong answer.”

Of course it’s the wrong answer. 

Byun Baekhyun might have been one of the best fucks of the campus, and you might’ve had a lot of fun with him on erstwhile rendezvouses, but that night wasn’t either of your nights, with him being pissed of at you for making his dick wait, and you having your mind glued on a totally different dick to his. The lie might have been obvious, but the fact that you’re having to accept it right now is making your ears heat up.

You don’t really need to do this.

Oh, but you do.

“Go on,” Jungkook coaxes you with his honey-dripping voice, lidded eyes tormenting you, “you know the rules.”

In the tense air, you take off a bracelet, the fake diamonds leaving a chill on your wrist. After dangling it in his face, you drop it onto the couch seat. 

“Good…” Jungkook teases, wondering which deviation of his brain to follow next. “Next. Did you think about me while getting your mediocre pounding from Baekhyun?”

“Oh my God, no!” Your rude tone is extra sharp, like you didn’t even want to entertain the thought that Jungkook would think – Jungkook would know – that that’s what happened. 

To this date, you do not remember anything of Baekhyun – your memories of that day have been painted with Jungkook and Jungkook alone.

“Come on now,” his smug visage turns ungodly, eyebrow cocked up, “a white lie. Off,” is all he says. 

You bend down to reach for the buckle of your shoe. Owing to Jungkook sitting fairly close, your line of sight is delicious – his taut suit pants defining the thighs that he’s clearly worked for; basically ogling at his thighs and crotch in close proximity. With shaky hands, your shoes finally come off – no thanks to the burst of anticipation flooding your veins. 

“Have you ever thought about us on lonely nights?” The closer he moves, with each syllable of utterance, the farther you feel from a sense of control. 

“No…” Your words stammer, and you mentally give the point to Jungkook. Looking up, you find him smirking at your shrinking stature.

“Ahh… You make it too easy,” he just chides you, and you start slipping out your rings.You’re well aware that you are the one dragging this out – but the “yes” just does not want to grace your lips. 

Maybe because you actually like this game. 

Maybe you’re enjoying this end of the show. 

And maybe, you finally want to see this game to completion. 

“Just so you know,” Jungkook purrs into the shell of your ear, leaving you wondering when he moved so close, “I think about your slick on my cock a lot.”

The desperation in your countenance is so visible, it’s pathetic. You wait in silence for the next question, eager to jump to the finale, but the path to the end is far too enjoyable to skip.

“Do you want to continue where we left off?”

“No.” Your answer is straight, to the point, no embellishments. 

Instead, you let your hands do the talking.

In one smooth action, you unzip your skirt and pull it down, without a prompt from the dastard ogling at you. Every move you make, you feel his stare burn into your skin, countering the chilly air filling the room. You sit back with your legs tightly closed – not out of any false sense of modesty, that has never been your strong suit – but the unceasing throbbing of your clit needs temporary relief or else it will jump out and land into his mouth.

The distance between you two has steeply decreased, and you can’t tell who’s at fault anymore. In any case, this proximity is most welcome, as per the anticipatory goosebumps that decorate your skin. Swirling his yet-unfinished drink in his hand, ice cubes clattering against each other, Jungkook takes your exposed legs in that are only barricaded by your pantyhose. It’s not the best material – you’ve been wearing the same one for a week now, displaying many scratches and tears – but Jungkook’s eyes don’t even seem to register it. 

But what is with this speed? He is fully intent on making every second of your horny existence miserable. In a desperate attempt to get a fraction of his touch, you bring your leg up – making the move as slow and deliberate as possible – landing it on his thigh. The best begging you can do without actually voicing it out.

Jungkook, however, is a man of many talents – ignoring your direct needs being a prime one. After a light sip, he brings his glass down to your leg, the bottom rim touching under your toe – and you hiss at the ice-cold feeling that spreads across your foot, as the condensate spreads its influence. 

“I have so many questions for you…” Jungkook whispers to you, watching you twitch, “but I’m having too much fun right now.”

Just when you begin to ask whether his dictionary reads ‘fun’ differently, he drags his cold glass upward, painfully slow, traversing your foot, then along your shin bone, letting the precipitate draw a path of icy chill on the map of your body. Meeting your eyes to just plant a cheeky wink into your brain, he continues forging ahead – until he can reach mid-thigh. He stops there long enough to hear you hiss – only then do you feel the glass move away. 

If you weren’t already panting, you are now. Very audibly so. It is all you can hear in the room, in fact. 

That is, of course, until Jungkook assaults all your senses by dragging you awfully close to him, extracting a gasp from you – his grip on your thigh is tighter than the band in your stomach begging for a release, and you relish the feeling. 

“Do you, want me,” he says into the miniscule space that’s left between your lips, “to kiss you right now?”

You can’t decide what demands your spotlight; is it his gaze boring holes into your skin, or his lips that are now glistening deliciously?

“No.”

“Hmmn,” Jungkook turns away from you, and you almost rise in alarm – until you register his next actions, “thought so.”

One second to completely sip all of his whiskey. Another second for his lips to land on yours.

Finally.

The fantasies of this night blend into reality, and instead of doing the rational thing – thinking why you ended up like this – you give into the kiss.

Not only does he kiss you hard, like the future of his world depends on it, he also pushes in his undrunk whiskey into your eager mouth. The liquid swirls between the colliding tongues, some leaking out of the corners of your mouth – the rest coating the insides of your cheeks with a lush, rich and robust flavour – flavours that didn’t pop when you drank it from your own damn glass.

You kiss until the whiskey gets drunk – by whom, is a mystery – and before you can tend to the stray drops down your face, Jungkook’s hand grabs your chin to keep you still. 

God, your last kiss was nothing like this. The blood buzzing in your ears is thunderous, reacting to the contradiction between the soft, tender kisses exchanged all those years ago, and the jagged, raw conquering of your lips happening right now. Your roughened lips burn under the remnants of alcohol, but it’s nothing compared to the searing you feel when Jungkook lets his tongue languidly glide against your gnawed skin.

“Now, since it was the wrong answer…” He husks, his fingers moving inward, closer and closer until they land just below your collar, “I have no choice but to—”

One mighty sharp tug – and all the buttons of your shirt have popped, flying all around the two of you. His hands, still clutching the buttonless seams of your shirt, harshly pull you back into him. Lips firmly sealed back onto yours, he sends his hand roaming.

“This is what you needed that night, eh?” With one hand back to digging in your jaw, he mouths the words into your cleavage, teeth digging deep into whatever they can grab, “Sweet boys just don’t cut it for you.” He moves up to the nook of your neck, his other hand slotting between your thighs, “For all the attitude you had back then, all you want then is to be treated like a street slut. And you’re still the same. Whores don’t change.”

Rude boys are still your standard, and Jungkook has become just that.

“Ow—fuck, don’t leave mar–marks, man,” you attempt an angrier voice while avoiding his truth bomb – because yes, aren’t you knocked out, over the moon right now? The voice that emanates is feeble, with no brawn to be found. 

He too, doesn’t pay you any heed – teeth tugging the flesh in his clamp until he can hear you hiss, then letting it go, letting his tongue soothe the sting.

“You can pretend to hate it,” he sneers at you, his low tone whisper sending shivers like a snowy night, “your lips can lie, but your body? From the moment you walked in, I know your pussy’s been screaming to be filled. Just thank your stars I’m generous, huh?”

You’re drunk. On just two fingers of whiskey? That can’t be it. Definitely, it’s the heady concoction of the alcohol and Jungkook’s very able hands – one of which is enjoying the feel of your perking nipple. 

While one hand goes back up to roughly dig into your neck, the confines of your throat feeling the heat of his lust, his other arm wraps holds your back, making sure you don’t lean too back and lose your balance. It’s sweet.

What’s not sweet, however, is how long this is taking.

He pushes you until you’re balancing your head on the armrest, with one knee digging into the cushion beside you, the other firmly planted on the carpeted floor. Within a wink of an eye, he’s moved down – and you feel his tongue play over your bra, teasing your nipples, reminding you of a forgotten (but not really) past – a harsh suckle under your boob releases the trapped moan, but it sounds battered; perfectly showcasing your state of mind.

“How about this,” he whispers, looking up from his actions, “you think I can get you to come without taking anything else off?”

Do you have the mental fortitude to deal with the consequences of your bratty answer? 

“No.”

The fingers fiddling with your bra hooks halt – instead, he descends onto your clothed breast, biting over the fabric, fully knowing that your sensitivity was through the roof. You cuss and moan, growing frustration urging for more, but you do not beg.

“Funny how life changes,” he coos, shifting attention from one boob to the other, “today you’re the one tied down. And lucky for you,” with not a hint of weariness in his voice, “I don’t have to be anywhere, anytime soon.”

No ties, no ropes, no chains – hell, not even that overworn, oversized tee of his – and he’s still so right about it. Not a part of you wishes to move away, your pathetic self just wrapped around his agile fingers. 

Said fingers now hold your cheeks, squeezing until your quivering lips give an opening – and he drops a ball of spit right over. You lay there, entranced, taking what he has to give, your writhing less prominent now. Anything that falls outside the outline of your lips is gathered by his thumb, massaged over your mouth, then inserted for you to suck to your heart’s content. Which you do.

“You’ve shanghed sho mush,” you speak past his thumb; he definitely doesn’t try to make it easier on you, pushing his digit further inside, putting your tongue through a test of endurance.

“So have you,” is his simple response, dragging his wettened thumb across your cheek.

“Not as much as you, for sure.”

“I don’t think the mouthy bitch years ago would suck spit off of my thumb.”

“You don’t know that.” With his eyes widening ever so slightly, you continue, “But surely, the geek from years ago wouldn’t have spit in my mouth in the first place.”

“You don’t know that either.” 

Just when you think you’re done seeing stars with the roof on, Jungkook hooks the band of your bra in his teeth – like the primitive animal that he is – and pulls at it, just to let it snap back at your skin. The unannounced action makes you squeal, even though it didn’t really hurt – he’s got your body so alive, a feather could hurt you if he wielded it.

With the odd, oafish position of yours; one leg on the couch, the other hanging off loose, head balanced precariously on the armrest with your arms dutifully out of his way – you try to get him where you need him, knee nudging his thigh while your hips wriggle under an invisible spell. Finally, he acquiesces, settling down at the couch with your legs unwrapped on either side for his viewing pleasure. His palms squeeze the flesh of your thighs, a small tsk falling off his lips at the touch of your pantyhose.

“Tearing doesn’t count as taking off, right?”

“What?”

You don’t get a response – not in words, atleast. The loud rip that follows is the only answer he graces you with, your worn down pantyhose having its last wear forever. But his easy access only brings you gratitude when two fingers enter the tear in a split second, pushing your underwear inside your sopping core.

“Mmmhh—Fuck!”

Jungkook just laughs at your helpless body writhing beyond control as he explores everything he didn’t have a chance to before. Fingers travelling down, then up, inside, then outside, around and about – everything, only egging you further on. 

“After all these years…” Jungkook purrs, not directly to you, eyes only connected to the juncture of your thighs, “you deserve a good fucking. What should I do, huh? Should I make you come, then drop off the face of the earth?” His tongue swipes the length of your crevice, sending shudders down your thighs. “Or should I spend this whole night doing all the things I’ve been meaning to? Cover you in my jizz and parade you across the office? Show everyone what an excellent tutor you were, and your very innovative teaching methods.”

Your brain has no filter when exposed to the horny, and his last words made it do just that – you latch onto whatever words best serve your purpose. 

“You–you’ve been meaning… To?” 

“Meaning to fuck you against every possible surface of this room,” is what Jungkook says, but with his fingers entering your cunt and exploring about, you don’t register anything. “As a thank you, you know? Meaning to see you fall apart on my fingers, just like this—” He pushes in hard, your pussy throbbing around his digits. “Meaning to cum inside you, over and over again, and have you crawl around this space, dripping everywhere while I sit and watch your sullied body prepare itself to take more.”

Well, the last one is oddly specific. Even more odd is how much more aroused the thought makes you.

“Wow, umm—w–well—” Swallowing the wad of spit accumulating in your throat, you offer, “Since you clearl–ooh, clearly, know how to make me come,” you look him in the eye, tears of desire pooling in the corners of your eyes, “so fucking do it. S–Stop playing around.”

“But with a plaything as sweet as you,” he moves to kiss your clothed pussy, his fingers still playing imaginary music inside your walls, “with a toy as slutty as you,” another kiss, so delicate it hurts you, “hard to not play around.”

Hands unfettered from the mental shackles that Jungkook put on you, you pull him back up to you, lips smushing together once again – your other hand wraps around his wrist, grinding onto whatever surface his palm offers, using him like a glorified sex toy. He grunts hard into you, a vague attempt made at bringing you back under control, but your tongue is beguiling, and he stays under your hold. 

Until he isn’t. 

“A—w—fuck!”

Jungkook’s sadistic streak continues when he frees his wrist from your clutches, and smacks your clit once, twice, thrice – in quick succession. Your nub would buzz if it could, and a string of expletives release from you when he does it again – this time, with a greater backswing. 

With a sharp tug to his still-on blazer, you pull him up. “Fucker,” you sputter, making your first and last request of the night, in a desperate attempt to get the ball rolling, “let me suck your dick.” Your hands already flounder around his crotch, until he pulls them away, back to their previous confinement. In the background, you can hear his belt jingle; but all you can see is his arresting face.

A deep-throated laugh emerges from him, “Wasn’t last time enough?” He coos at your cock-hungry plea, pushing you back down and fiddling with your legs. “Next time, okay?”

“Next ti—uungghh!”

Barely able to complete your showcase of surprise, because this is the way he announces his acceptance – he pushes into your core, without warning, but he receives a warm welcome in the walls of your pussy. 

“We have a lot,” he emphasises with a thrust, “a lot of work to do, don’t we?” He pulls out just enough to leave you whining, then pushes back in with a grunt of satisfaction; his moves are calculated enough to leave you wanting while maverick enough to leave your spine tingling. “And a lot of catching up as well.” He hovers over you after positioning you better, both of your bodies lying along the length of the couch, before getting right back into your gushing entrance.

One particular thrust has you arching up, the shock of pleasure stagnating in your body for a hot second, making your head lag and voice wane. Jungkook sheaths himself completely, before slotting his face in the nook of your neck, heavy breaths licking at your heated skin. Not one to miss an opportunity, you take the lobe of his ear between your lips, letting your teeth graze over the skin.

“Mmmh, yes,” he keens, tilting into your touch, “make it hurt, baby.”

Whether it is the words he uttered, or the way his whisper travels down to your cunt, you dig your teeth into the flesh, immediately rewarded with a mouthwatering flurry of cusses stuttered into your neck. 

“It’s,” Jungkook pulls out of you in an instant, turning you around by your waist, “not,” he pushes your head back onto the headrest, your cheek bulging as you try to get a look at him, “enough.”

And the way he slams back into you, you feel your soul fight your body to escape. You mewl into the deathly quiet, his dogged jackhammering hurtling you towards your most awaited high of the day – hell, the most awaited all these years. He pistons into you, covering every inch of your skin in a sea of flames. Your orgasm finds you like a river in spate, gushing through its path, fighting boulders in its wake, carving its way through your entire body. 

Sounds of the room start feeling like echoes, slapping balls, grunty exhales, a weirdly long cloth rip that does not belong – but your ears are ringing, your mouth is drooling, and your brain is ready to shut down. Being jostled like a muppet feels like home, and you only start waking up when spurts of liquid coat all of your ass, thighs, and slit. 

In true asshole fashion, Jungkook tore all of your pantyhose, fabric loosely hanging on the sides, seams split until all of your ass and thighs were open for his pleasure. 

In truer asshole fashion, Jungkook left you a mess, cum trickling down your glutes, pooling at the bend of your knee.

And in truest asshole fashion, he is wiping his unsullied fingers clean, without a second thought about your current dishevelled disposition.

Ugh. You love to put yourself in a position you can’t get out of.

How the fuck will you get home? This jerk won’t give you a ride. 

Also, none of your bones work. 

You lay your head on the armrest, finding feasible ways out of this situation. It's going to be nice riding the bus with dried cum itching your ass. There must be a washroom in this boujee office, of course. You finally gather the strength to raise your head and look for one – but interception comes sharp and swift.

“Already done, huh?” Jungkook’s fingers press into the nape of your neck, pushing you back down, your tendons feeling the pressure of his stronghold.

“I—” You stutter and stumble again, just like the start of the night, “I thought we—”

“Don’t you remember?”

“What?”

“Hmmmn,” he sponges kisses over your clothed back, making his way downward, “stupid girl said I couldn’t make her come without taking anything off.”

Ah.

Stupid girl did say that.

Stupid girl also has her speaking right revoked right now, because Jungkook is collecting the half-dried cum on your ass with his tongue, awakening your dying senses once again. His final move is a start to the next chapter of your night, as he pushes his tongue into your velvet heat, depositing the cum where it belongs.

“Guess we keep playing, huh?”

Thank you for making it to the end! For more of my writing, find my masterlist here. As always, thoughts and feedbacks are greatly appreciated!    

[ladykakata]

i love your shameless thoughts so much! i think a lot of shameless fans do a lot of projecting when it comes to mickey and seem to think he’s ian’s doormat when he clearly isn’t, he just a well informed partner who understands and accepts how his bf/husband’s mental illness unavoidably affects his behavior sometimes. it’s just like how ian can see that, what might look like a tantrum to most, is mickey being overwhelmed and unable to process certain things and lashing out in the process. getting hurt by each other is sometimes inevitable, but for the most part throughout the series they don’t fully take it to heart because they’re accepting of one another. its sad that some fans will ignore the complexity of that in favour of villainising/victimising and defaulting to ableism.

PRECISELY. You've hit the bullseye there; Mickey comes to learn that certain actions might be Ian's brain lashing out, but Ian does precisely the same with Mickey. Mickey is pretty notoriously (and hilariously, let's be honest) short-tempered and hyper-defensive, to the point where pretty much anything will result in a machine-gun torrent of abuse aimed at someone. There's a known tell with him rubbing his eyebrow if he's SEVERELY tested and ready to lash out physically, and that's true as well.

A good example of this is when Ian was mystified by Mickey's behaviour with regards to the West Side. Mickey is clearly struggling, again he verbally lashes out and he did the same at the party when asked what his drink of choice was. Ian in that scene just smiles and shakes his head, knowing Mickey is rough around the edges and awkward, but he certainly doesn't upbraid him for his lack of etiquette. Trying to get Mickey to admit to anything emotional is difficult, and Ian knows he has to carefully tease that information out without setting Mickey off on a rant or him shutting down (the latter more likely). He did so beautifully when trying to figure out why Mickey didn't want the nice apartment on the West side, and Mickey finally admitted that it makes him deeply uncomfortable. Having gotten the answer, Ian accepts that, and de-escalates the situation by calmly agreeing, despite Mickey being suspicious about him not arguing. Eventually, after some back and forth, Mickey agrees to move and Ian lets him have his caveats, ending the exchange by reaffirming that Ian loves Mickey's rough side ("You're such a fucking barbarian" "Thank you <3"). Mickey is so socially awkward for someone full of bluff and bluster and I REALLY want to cover that in a post.

I'm on anti-depressants, and a side effect of making my emotions even and focusing my brain without it having a meltdown every two minutes with emotions, it also makes you a little emotionally numb. It can make you look very calm and collected, which is also a bonus in certain circumstances, but also can come across as cold or uncaring in the wrong circumstances. When Mickey was trying to process his father's death, Ian was borderline confused about his upset, which again can come across as very cold, but being someone under the influence of anti-depressants, I do wonder if the writers were taking that into consideration, as well as Ian's deep loathing for Terry and not quite getting how upset Mickey would be over the death. I think he eventually will realise it's not so much the fact he's died, it's the lost potential for them to reconcile and be a proper father-and-son. Mickey had a glimpse of it, and it's heartbreaking to see.

In my opinion, the deleted scene where Mickey questions Ian's mood and expresses concern should have been kept in. Ian has done it for Mickey, and it's so soft and gentle the way he probes into how Ian is feeling without, again, making Ian shut down or push him away. Plus, it had Mickey referring to Ian out loud as his husband, and we all need more of that <3

[quackity1999]

# — THE MAILBOX is open for business.

i take care of those who take care of me. why do you think i have no one around?

jesus, put two and two together.

this is a c!quackity ask blog :]

SEND ASKS! feel free to pester c!quackity thru asks— general questions, LN reports, dsmp lore refs, tomfoolery and such are encouraged.

i HEAVILY support spamming the inbox.

happy to answer both anons + characters (dsmp, ocs, multiverse: film, musicals, videogames, etc). if ur a reoccurring anon then grab an emoji !

#quackitychirps indicates quackity replies. #charlieposting indicates slime replies.

[ TAG SYSTEM: HERE ! pls check it out. ]

↓ IMPORTANT INFO UNDER CUT. ↓

[ hiii. i'm prophet! he/it/rez prns. biggest cquackity kin known to mankind. yes i am australian 😎😎 ]

rules: literally fucking none. go ham!!!!!!! just please no godmodding. i'll delete anything that goes too far. 18+ mentions are fine — i'll tag accordingly, but it won't be the main focus. sooo have fun go crazy ( admin is 21. keep that in mind thanks )

this blog functions on dialogue instead of written out paragraphs of literature.

IMPORTANT: i don't write any literate rp ( eg; *character sits down and does a thingy* etc etc ) unless it's preplanned in dms for an event. if i am sent starters or asks with literate rp they'll most likely be deleted.

sometimes i throw in a bit of action in brackets, but this is an ask blog first and foremost so i focus on dialogue to communicate action / location / etc.

and in order to keep my blog tidy i don't respond to reblog replies. threads tend to get real lengthy + clutter up things. so— please send another ask instead of reblogging with a reply :) thank you for understanding!

there will be occasional nsfw topics. anything indirect or at the very least suggestive goes into #vaguely 18+. anything explicit will be tagged with 18+ mention. proceed with discretion.

details about quackity :

+ las nevadas era, mainly. if there's specific asks that require a response from vice pres quackity or manburg era q, i can adjust to that: #viceqchirps !

+ he's an avian hybrid! he nests often (usually within an amethyst geode). quackity has a history of being mocked for his instincts and avian attributes, much thanks to a certain ex-husband :/

+ this bitch loves a good debate. motherfucker is a lawyer (sorta) so hit him up with a challenge every now and then. give him fun facts. Threaten him. ask whats going on in his life! throw in curveballs.

[ his chat / asks often show up as pop-up ads. ]

+ my portrayal is canon aligned! las nevadas is important as hell to him, so here's a post that explains in-character how quackity runs LN: HERE. so. yeah, we do business around here. and also torture dream for the revival book but that's not important /silly

+ on that note, i would prefer to avoid interaction with positive/good depictions of c!schlatt for this blog. no disrespect to those who do prefer that, i just personally want to uphold the importance of how schlatt's abuse informed a Lot of character development for quackity. same goes for dream— he's a villain, not a kicked puppy. thank you!

+ i violently swerve between serious interactions and utter hysteria in my replies to asks. its like a fucking lucky dip here 😎 also soz for all the links but it Does make it easier

+ shipping isn't a goal here, so attempts to woo quackity will not end in a romance plot. ofc there'll be some flirting, especially w / canon characters he's had past relations with (schlatt, wilbur, eret, karl, sapnap). i hc he's had a fling with technoblade at least once LMAO. note: apologies to dapduo shippers but they're strictly friends in my portrayal for a reason. :]

+ during las nevadas he has fortnightly gatherings with foolish. he wouldn't fuck a citizen, but he'd fuck a coworker! morals, what're those again?

overall i'm not looking to write romance plots due to c!quackity's view of love during the LN era. (he despises it.)

all anons welcome!!! ADMIN IS 21.

for art references:

my dude's got big big wings such as the first two. no other wings anywhere else though! white / blind in the eye that’s scarred. he got gold fangs to replace his upper canines; to replace the actual missing tooth from techno’s axe but also for congruence. it's also a mockery: piglins love gold.

PLENTY of gold jewelry. quackity focuses so much on his appearance, so— earrings! a brass knuckle made from the rings of schlatt, karl & sapnap. he will never use his own feathers for decoration, though. he's got some necklaces, ofc, no piercings. maaybe an eyebrow piercing but idk . debatable

usually wears a white silk shirt, regular suspenders, black pinstriped pants / slacks, deep red tie with gold intricate detailing & a gold clasp to keep it together in the middle. a fancy pocketwatch with the las nevadas star engraved on the front. his blue or puma beanie obvs! shoes are either dark red (near black) snakeskin or italian leather. steel toed for dropkicking drea—

[ PAST EVENTS: AVIAN PINNED. ]

[seonghw4ffles]

sunk cost fallacy

"im reeling in my brain again, before it can get back to you."

playing ricky montgomery ...

seonghwa x fem!reader

< chapter one > chapter two (?)

genre: 4am rant, angst, second chance, ex, seonghwa mc

w/c: 2.6k

summary: he ran for you like a fool when you called him saying your car broke down after fifteen months of no contact

tw: quite poorly written (its pretty much my vents into a fic), reader METAPHORICALLY referred to as "small," no happy ending (unless this gets attention), minor swearing, just sad, thats it though

note: the indented are memories. hi guys im back from school camp hehhee!!! i have never seen angst being on the s/o's side, its always carried on the y/n which frustrates me... might delete this cus i havent proofread,, yeah i might make a pt2 of hea if anyone cares 😭

"oh what am i supposed to do, without you?"

THURSDAY 04:17

seonghwa had no intent of anything, when he was unable to sleep.

seonghwa had no intent of anything, when he minimised himself across his bed.

his mind is a merry go round, already worn out. he doesn't know if these feelings in the air are beautiful or wretched.

seonghwa had no intent of anything, before his phone rings to a call.

he looks over and reads your name across the phone screen. it was almost a reflex when he instantly straightened himself, grabbed his phone and answered.

"y/n? hello?"

“hey, seo- seonghwa…” you shudder as you say his name. “could you help me?”

oh how he missed your voice. yet, his full name sounds strange under your lips.

and only after a moment of communication on the phone, he grabs his keys off the nightstand.

˖ ࣪⭑

"sorry. i couldn't afford a tow truck," you speak through the call.

"no, don't apologise. i'm coming for you."

he's already driving through the dark, apathetic to his dishevelled state. as well as the speed limit.

you’re trapped on the side of the road with a broken down car. you happened to be without any other choice but to call him. and honestly, thank the fates that this was the situation.

“are you okay? its so loud, are you driving safely?” you say, hearing influx of seonghwa’s very own car horns.

“yeah. don’t worry. just a whole lot of mindless drivers,” he replies. people who couldn’t drive should get off the road.

as he speaks, he notices how exhausted his voice sounds, as though he hasn’t spoke in so long. but one couldn’t really get a chance to talk if there was never anyone to talk to.

more horns fill the air.

seonghwas hunches forward. he is on the brink of smashing the pedal, just to distract himself from his own overwhelming mind. the drive is so damn slow.

as he steps back, he cries, realising all is gone. "what about my friends? my parents? they all hate you. fuck it, they hate me too. im sorry. i just can't."

somebody blocks his way, and he punches the steering wheel. well, it’s more because of the memories that begin to trespass his head, however it is impossible for him to care less.

he hates himself for the way he took your vast, beautiful hope for granted during then. for how he was so dense, so scared to let his love take over his fear. and now that everything all had dissolved, he wishes he did something differently. so that perhaps the current state wouldn’t be so.

and so perhaps you wouldn’t be stranded in the middle of nowhere but a road, all alone, in the night. for hours.

you’re in trouble. and he is obliged to save you, be your hero, the way he used to, and the way he was always supposed to.

“are you alright? are you cold? do you have a jacket?” he asks through the phone, almost at your location.

he waits for a response, but he's only met with silence.

"y/n? hello? y/n??"

and there was still no answer.

his heart rate drastically increases. he's really smashing the pedal now.

"y/n,, answer me? please?? hello???" he shakes.

a hundred, a hundred and ten, a hundred and thirty.

he's so scared.

he's yelling over the phone at this point, but you're still not responding.

"Y/N!! FUCK," he yells, almost to tears, vigorously pushing his back against the seat as he continues the drive.

and when seonghwa sees your familiar vehicle in the far distance from his windscreen, he swerves his steering wheel to turn to the side. he doesn't care if he's too far to stop. he roughly slams his hand to the gear for adjustment and swiftly releases his seatbelt, stepping out of the door and slamming it behind him. he leaves his car resting diagonally out of the highway, half onto the grass, because he really doesn’t care about anything else right now.

he runs desperately towards you in the soft moonlight.

it was windy and cold while he’s wearing nothing but a thin shirt and trousers, when he appeared outside your car door, finally laying his eyes through the window.

his heart stops for a little bit, seeing you for the first time in what felt like ages.

he finds that you're asleep, and he's so relieved that you're safe. yet what currently alters him more is your mere presence right upon him. you look so fragile and so small, your knees huddled to your chest, and his stomach twists. you're prettier than he could ever remember.

and he misses you so, so much.

he gently knocks against your glass window.

and you gradually open your eyes to his panting, his wide eyed gaze, and the wind in his hair.

"y/n?"

he steps back as he watches your beautiful figure exit the car. you are thankfully wearing a thin jacket.

the moment you shut your car door, he walks over to you and engulfs you under a tight embrace.

oh how it felt for him, to hug you like this again.

"seonghwa."

he immediately noticed how you tensed up when he pulled your frame into his body, and he softly released you.

his heart breaks a little bit. he's so ashamed of his thoughtless actions.

he looks down at you, his heart twisting as he realised he was undeserving of your comfort, and takes a step back.

"my bad," he mutters under his breath, covering his face to accept the fact that he just messed up the moment he got to see you.

"no, don't worry. it's alright," you reply, smiling in a way which looks so obviously forced.

he doesn’t know what to say, as there was no excuse for the way he treated you. all he could do is look at you, noticing every little crack in your demeanour.

he guides you back to his car.

when you fell back into the structure of the road with him, the air was empty and silent.

you were unsettled of the vast tension.

"how are you doing?" you manage to say out loud, but even you flinch at your own words. a such normal phrase sounds so drastically different than it did before.

doing? how does he answer that question if he had done nothing for the past fifteen months and four days, supposedly since the day of when his love of his life had disappeared?

"i'm doing good. how about you?"

he swallows hard as he sees your lifeless expression through the corner of his eye.

he had always seen you uplifting and cheerful, yet right now he couldn’t fathom how you’re the same person. you appear so worn.

"i'm great. just a bit tired tonight."

he stares endlessly at the many lights flashing from his windscreen.

one could say it was awkward, but he is too dismantled to conclude this precious moment like that. he's happy enough that he gets to see you again, although he knows he shouldn't. but he hopes you feel the same too.

"how long were you there for?" seonghwa asks for an attempt to keep the conversation.

"well, since twelve."

he almost crashes to the car in front.

"what? are you alright?" he says. "the hell were you doing for four hours?"

"sorry. i mean.."

"no, why are you apologising? i'm just.. why are you-"

your instinct to apologise hits him greatly. seonghwa knew he was the reason for your anxiety, and he despises himself. he turns to you, and for a second, he sees all that he put you through.

"i should've listened to my friends," seonghwa tells you, broken in state. "you've done nothing but cause me stress."

he wants to throw up.

"what were you doing for four hours?? why did you have to wait four hours to call someone???" he asks with great worry.

"it was dark, and there was nobody i could contact. i called all my friends, and none responded. i assumed they were asleep."

although he is happier to find you again, it still hurts that his wound is severely reopened by this moment beside you alone. it hurts that he couldn't even blame your search for him. 

"i initially planned to wait until the next morning, but i lost patience. i called you, and you picked up almost instantly," you conclude.

after when you said the last sentence, he suddenly felt like you knew him too well.

perhaps you also knew that the sole reason he never falls asleep was because of you. because he is waiting for you. because he still loves you so much, he couldn't sleep bearing the thought of his feelings unrequited.

"you're safe now," he says.

you tighten, bringing your arms closer to yourself. "thank you so much. for this. seriously. i know i'm probably not the person you wanted to see."

"don't be sorry. please don't. i'm happy to see you again."

the moment was now quiet, but calming to the ears.

he felt lucky he didn't give up on the sunrise too soon. if fifteen dreadful months led to having an hour with you, he's more than grateful. 

he wonders if you feel the same. that you're happy too.

he wanted to convince himself that maybe you lied when you said you couldn’t afford a tow truck. that maybe, just maybe, you wanted to see him again.

"are you hungry?" he asks to fill the air. you must be.

"no," you reply.

"lets stop to eat."

"no, it's okay. i'm not hungry."

"you lie too much. you've been stuck in some damn car for half a lifetime. we're eating, yeah?" he says, and there's no stopping him.

truthfully, he did not care if you were uncomfortable eating with him. he felt selfish, inconsiderate. he panicked when he watched the gps get closer and closer to you're place. he only wanted to use this chance to find more time with you regardless, because he knew you would never come back to loving him no matter how hard he tries.

"fine," you admit. but it sounded like you really wanted to stop to eat with him. and he wanted to believe that.

"what about convenience store food?" he says.

he knows you love miniature food. it's far more accessible to have many small packs of diverse dishes, rather than otherwise.

you smile, and his heart flutters ballistic.

you laugh once you walk into the bright, empty store with him.

"i want sushi… i really craved sushi," you say, pointing to the aisle.

"of course you do," he smiles, following you.

you take a compact sized pack that's fairly cheap, and now it starts.

he waits there in the corner as you run around the small store, taking almost anything you think looks good. he watches you far happier than before, and he felt something in his chest that wasn't fear. more so, it felt like he finally released all that he carried.

seonghwa felt alive again for the first time after fifteen months.

"this!!" you suddenly come into sight, holding about six or seven packets of food that you almost struggled to carry.

"you want that?" he chuckles. "alright."

there was no queue, so he went straight over with you to pay. seonghwa gets nothing but a small coffee.

if he could at least be your friend again, there's nothing more that he could ever want.

he leads you out of the place, back into the car. he held the door for you.

"thank you," you say. "thank you so much."

"don't worry," he replies.

once he gets in the car, he views you opening your food. although he used to recognise himself as a mass eater, he doesn't remember the last time he did. his body is destroyed with nothing but coffee and water.

and when he starts driving, he watches you enjoy your food. he softens more than ever at the sight. 

"want some?" you ask, holding out a whole ice cream tub you're just scooping with a spoon. you're quite of a silly person.

seonghwa laughs. "i'm driving."

sooner or later, you hold up the same spoon of vanilla ice cream to his face. his heart beats faster before he takes a bite out.

"shove it in," you laugh at the way he's struggling. 

he tries his hardest not to laugh in order to properly eat the ice cream.

"goodness, you're so peculiar," he says after he managed to consume the load.

"no, you are," you say. "youre the strangest person i know."

he smiles and turns to you for a second, unable to say anything. "well, i dont eat my ice cream off its tub."

"i dont eat four ramen packets at once," you rebut, hitting his shoulder playfully.

"oh be quiet right now," he replies.

you laugh, scooping another piece straight from the tub.

"i don't care about that. i know its impossible, but i want to believe its possible," you say, with the eyes of the most warmth so generously offered to him.

and there the two are, acting as though nothing had happened between them, acting as two lovers.

˖ ࣪⭑

he follows you to the apartment complex you stay in, and he's unable to let you go.

as you say your farewells walk away into the building, he catches your wrist, and you turn around.

"i still love you. im sorry i messed up before," he whispers to you. he steps closer as he takes his slightly trembling fingers to guide a stray hair behind your ear.

you didn't expect the sudden confession. "seonghwa.."

he shuts his mouth. the way you hesitate sort of leaves him uneasy. he stops to look at you, to cherish this little time he has with you. who knows if this will be the last time he sees you?

no matter how far it hurts him to admit, he couldn't deny how beautiful you are.

"can we try again?" he says almost mindlessly. he felt like he lost everything with that sentence, and wishes he could take it back.

it was silent for only a moment. those few seconds were more anticipating than he had ever felt, he wishes he were gone.

you looked down, as though trying to find what to say. there was nothing but ringing in his ear, until you answered, "i’m interested in somebody else."

"im sorry," he mutters, shamefully pulling away. he covers half his face with his palms to look down upon for a second. it's shattering when he absorbs all your words, burrowing them deep under his anguished heart.

you moved on already?

"its okay." you reply.

who is this new man? is it your really close colleague he never liked? or your guy that's always been part of your friend group?

"why is it so hard for you to just trust me?" you yell, and it seems as the glass tipped over.

he lets go of his arms. "who is this guy?" he asks, almost instictively. he spoke more aggressively than he intended.

"i don't think you're obligated to know."

he tightens his eyes shut.

so fast. you’re so fast. everyone is so fast. it had been fifteen months, yet he’s still in the same place he was in those fifteen months ago.

you’re moving on, while he had stopped. how does he fill the gap that does not shrink?

you’ve really given up on him.

you like someone else.

it's all over.

he subtly bites his lip, stepping back. he couldn't even look at you anymore. "well, i..." he barely mumbles, his voice trembling. "i really wish i could be the man you fell in love with again. i really do."

you almost flinch, looking away from him. you couldn't believe he could say such a thing. you seemed like you pitied him, for how vulnerable he currently reveals to you. "i’m sorry. just... leave me alone for a bit, yeah?"

it felt like knives to his heart. "you want me to leave?"

his voice is breaking. he looks back up to you, trying so hard to find a hint in your expression that you wanted to take it back, even a tiny hint, but he couldn’t.

"if thats okay," you say, as he freezes at your words. he felt like he said something he shouldn't have. what if this is the last time? what if this is really the last encounter? is this the moment everything is said?

“okay. then i'll.. then i'll see you,” his voice slightly trembles.

"im sorry. i'll see you," you reply, watching him leave.

"i wish i was strong enough. for us,” he says.

seonghwa steps back, and follows hesitantly. he stares to the cold, stone ground, exiting the complex as all his instincts scream against him.

the way you speak is destroying him piece by piece. he doesn't want to step any further away from you. he could never accept that you no longer love him. but if this is what you choose, he couldn't really do anything.

his love for you is overflowing in his hands. who else could he give this to if you refuse it? it hurts to carry.

its okay. he’s is willing to wait more for you. for something to happen again.

but how long will it take?

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Older Eddie Chronicles.

older eddie who cant handle when reader says she wants his kids his mind is blown

older eddie getting protective of reader around her ex.

BTW I posted this yesterday but accidentally deleted it today when I was replying back to a reblog and fixing some grammar mistakes. Yes I am a dumbass 😳

Requests are anon and I'm combining the two for this fic. Reader is In her late 20's while Eddie is 39.

Warnings: Hints of smut so minors dni, 18+, fluff, Eddie is smitten, hints of a breeding kink, protective Eddie.

Don't copy, reuse, repost or translate my work.

❤️

For months you and Eddie had been seeing each other. It was the best relationship you've ever had.

He's older than you, mature and sexy as hell, you couldn't get enough of him.

Eddie seduced you one night when you met a bar and you had been together ever since.

You were nursing a drink to yourself while trying to avoid a particularly persistent guy when Eddie joined you.

With his leather jacket, the tattoos, shaggy brown hair pulled into a man bun and those big brown eyes, you were instantly attracted to him.

The two of you had fell for each other hard.

Eddie was suprised how madly in love he fell for you, usually he wasn't like this but something clicked in his mind the moment he met you.

It was like you were the one who he had been waiting for all his life. Cheesy as fuck he knew that but it was true. His cynical views had been turned upside down by you.

You were rested in Eddie's arms content to just cuddle with your man while you watched a movie.

There was the sweetest kid in the movie and you couldn't help but let out a tiny aww at how adorable she was.

Eddie chuckles and presses a kiss to your hair and you peer up at him curiously.

"Do you ever think about having a few little Eddie Munson's running around?" you ask him and he shrugs.

"Sometimes" You bite your lip shyly knowing you've fantasised about having kids with Eddie a fair few times.

"What if I told you I wanted your kids?" Eddie gawks at you. He is silent for a full minute, speechless.Then he answers you and there's a vulnerability to his voice.

"You mean that princess? My old man wasn't the best father. I know I'd do better than he ever did for me but it fucking scares me at the same time"

"You'd be an amazing daddy, so creative and protective. The sweetest, best dad in the world. You're an amazing man Eddie Munson. I love you so much and I know you would rock being a dad"

His expression softens and he kisses you slowly, savouring the moment.

"I love you so much sweetheart, thank you for always believing in me" There's a few moments of happy silence as you just cuddle with him until a thought makes you giggle.

"You'd totally be a girl dad. Can just see you with two little girls who have you wrapped around their little finger" Eddie smirks at this and hums.

"Mmm just like their mama then" he grins and it makes you feel all warm and happy inside.

"So in the future? You would want that?" you ask him excited and he nods as his fingers interlace with his.

"Fuck, I'd love to see you pregnant with our child. If you don't stop talking about it princess then I may have to fuck you right now, make sure I fill you up to the brim with my cum. I'm so fucking tempted"

Flustered you can't help but like that idea very much.

"Eddie Munson do you have a breeding kink?" you tease.

"Not until I met you" He replies honestly and you hide your beaming face in his shoulder feeling giddy.

❤️

Eddie had taken you out to your favourite restaurant as a suprise. He was in a very touchy feely, romantic mood and could barely keep his hands off you.

"Wait until I get you home. Gonna fuck you so hard that you won't be able to sit for weeks" he whispers into your ear and you shiver with anticipation.

"I'm gonna go freshen up. Think you can last without me for a few minutes Ed's?" you joke and he responds by kissing you until you're breathless and squirming with need.

You're in a rush to get back so you don't notice your ex at the bar until he's in front of you with a smirk on his face.

"Well look who it is" seeing him again makes you clam up instantly. Brad was a rude, egocentric and emotionally abusive asshole, you were together for only a few months but that was enough as far as you were concerned.

The effect he had on your mental health was awful and you were still dealing with the aftermath even now.

"Do you mind. I have to get back to my boyfriend?" you plan to ignore him and attempt to walk straight past him but he grabs your arm a little too tight.

"What's the rush? Tell me about this boyfriend. Does he even exist?" Brad's smug face falters completely as Eddie walks over.

Eddie can look intimidating to people but you know he's a big softie. Well... at least with you he was.

"Who the fuck are you and why are you touching my girl like that?" his eyes are flashing with fury, voice full of venom.

Brad slinks back turning player by the minute as he takes in Eddie. He looks like he might wet himself.

"Well?" Eddie barks and Brad backs away even further and you hide your smile as you cuddle into Eddie.

"That's Brad" You tell him and his jaw tenses as he eyes Brad up and down with a look of utter loathing.

"You're the asshole my girl told me about? Boy have I fantasised about running into you dude" Eddie's voice turns low and menacing and Brad gulps.

"You know what I was just leaving" he stammers out and Eddie smirks.

"You do that and if I see you near her again, you upset her in any way then me and you will have a problem? You got that douchebag?" Brad nods and rushes away before Eddie can say anything else.

"That was kinda hot. I like when you're protective" You grin and he kisses your forehead.

"No one hurts my princess, come on let's get out of here. I'm craving dessert" your body tingles at the possibilities he has in store for you tonight.

♥️