#and did i mention i’m on my fucking period and i have to pick someone else up in like an hour

[gazpacho-deluxe]

just had to drive in the rain and dark (a combination i have not driven in before) to drop someone off somewhere i hate driving i hate driving i hate driving

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hi 👋🏻 Lou!! Congratulations 🎊🎉 on 6k!!

So how about Arranged Marriage w/ Simon?

Again congrats to 6k 🙃💛🦡

.⋆｡Give 'Em Hell｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader

Your parents think you need to get married and settle down, so they called in a favour. A big military man of a husband might do you some good just not in the way they think

Warnings: arranged marriage, sort of sugar baby/daddy relationship, misogynist parents, future revenge, mention of hook-ups WC: 986

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You often wondered about the true scope of your family’s stupidity. Sure, there were moments in your childhood where you had the vivid thought that no one could be as ignorant and blatantly idiotic as your parents were but somehow, they had absolutely hit rock bottom of moronic decisions.

“What the fuck do you mean I’m getting married?” Your mother gasped.

“Watch your tone young lady, that is no way to speak to your parents.” She scolded as your father’s expression hardened. There was no question that your parents were ‘traditional’ believing that women were less than their male counterparts in every way but while they had constantly lectured you on those beliefs, they hadn’t gone so far as to inflict them upon you, until now at least. They even helped you and encouraged you through college!

“You’ve been running wild long enough, it’s time for you to do your duty,” you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “We’ve let you chase your silly little dreams but you’re getting older and your clock is ticking.” Your father clicked his tongue and reached for the tumbler of expensive bourbon on the table beside his recliner.

“We’ve picked out a good man!” Your mother chirped from her place on the expensive love seat next to your father, “He’s highly decorated in the military, he can give you a good life.”

“I don’t give a shit about that! I’m not marrying anybody! Period!” You snarled. Anger curled in your gut, turning your tone sour.

Your father’s glass slammed down onto the wood, making your mother flinch. “You will marry him or I will make your life a living hell. I make one call and no one will want to hire you, not even as a fucking garbage collector. You know the connections I have. Suck it up and be a responsible adult for once.” 

——————

“I don’t want a husband.” The man across from you made a sound that you thought might have been a laugh. Simon, as you had learned from your parents, was a Lieutenant in a special ops task force. Never married, no family to speak of and copious amounts of money, your mother had gleefully added as she literally dragged you into the official-looking building where you would be meeting your future spouse.

He was by all means, an intimidating man. Almost 6 and a half feet tall and wearing a stupid balaclava with a skull on it, he looked more fitting being in a slasher movie than in a conference room negotiating marriage stipulations. His bulky, tattooed arms were crossed over his chest, somehow making him seem even bigger to you, as he leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t want a wife.” Your eyebrows furrowed at that. 

“Then why are you here?” 

His massive shoulders rolled back as his head tilted, cracking his neck. “Same as you— orders.” You hummed under your breath and forced your gaze away from his tanned arms and up to his eyes. He was obviously a quiet man but in no way did that intimidate you. He seemed more pissed off at your father who had so rudely guided (shoved) you into the room than he did at you.

You cleared your throat. “I won’t fuck you.” This time, his laugh was more discernible. His broad chest rumbled with the sound.

“‘M not expecting you to, not unless you beg,” you made a face at him but Simon continued, “I get deployed most of the time, I’d just like someone to take care of the house and spend my money.”

“So I would be your sugar baby.” He shrugged.

“If that’s what ya wanna call it. Do what cha want, I don’t care. We just need to show up to official events together.” 

You planted your elbows on the table between you and stared into his brown eyes. Simon didn’t waver. “So you wouldn’t have an issue with me getting a job?”

“None.” He answered quickly.

“Going back to school?”

“I’d happily pay for it.” You raised an eyebrow before a devious smirk crossed your lips.

“Get a lover?” His eyes blazed while he mirrored your position, the swivel chair beneath him groaning with his mass as he leaned forwards, planting his massive palms onto the table.

“I’d like to see you try.” Against your will, heat raced through your body, setting your nerves alight with the thrum of arousal.  Simon’s mask shifted and you imagined that he was smirking at you. 

You tamped down the feeling of wetness between your soft thighs, forcing yourself to remember exactly why you were in this situation in the first place. “You’re a lot different than I was expecting.”

He huffed. “So are you. Thought I was getting stuck with some bratty trust fund baby who’s never even set foot in a thrift store.”

“I thought you were gonna be a crusty old man who wanted me to put out so he could feel better about his broken dick and receding hairline.” Silence settled between you before suddenly, you both broke into peels of laughter, an oppressive weight suddenly lifted from the room. 

You were relieved; Simon seemed at least like a decent human being if nothing else and it appeared that you could continue living your life, although without the occasional hook up here and there. But considering how handsome you presumed your almost husband to be, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

“I guess we both got lucky didn’t we?” You wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Or just benefitting from the sheer incompetence of the people that thought this was a good idea.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“So, should we do this then?” You asked. Simon rose from his seat and offered you his hand, which you didn’t hesitate to take. As he pulled you to your feet, he uttered:

“Let’s give ‘em hell.”

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[scarfacemarston]

Teacher!Natasha x Teacher!Reader Oneshot

For Lesbian Visibility Week! If you enjoyed this, please note and reblog! Feel free to send other prompts or requests! Prompt: The students come into your classroom complaining about Natasha as a teacher not knowing you're her wife. This is version 1. You sighed as you glanced at the digital clock on your computer. Damn. Your planning period was almost over, and you really needed to finish grading these essays. Soon, you would be back to teaching your high school history classes for the day. The period ended far too quickly as students began to file their way into the classroom, discussing this and that. You were so engrossed in your work that you were hardly paying attention until you heard “Ms. Romanoff” mentioned not once, not twice, but in a string of sentences. Oh boy. Ms. Romanoff was one of the more controversial teachers at the school known for her no-nonsense attitude, sternness and sarcasm , but she was also fair with a dry sense of humor. “Why did I take international politics as an elective? Oh, that’s right, I thought it would look good on my transcript!” One student said sarcastically. “She’s so nitpicky! I got an A-. AN A MINUS!” “Hers is the only class I don’t fall asleep in anymore. Not since….last time.” “She’s so strict even the Macklin brothers shut up.” “She’s terrifying. I heard she used to be an undercover agent in the CIA”. You smirked at that one. You should probably look into that rumor. “A spy? Shut-up, man. Who’s going to believe that?” “I heard she was a failed actress.” “I heard she voiced the Russian Siri.” “I heard she’s a rich heiress that lost all her cash.” “Look, guys, I don’t care. She just ripped our class to shreds.I just can’t right now. Nearly the entire class failed her last test. These test corrections are going to take all night.” “At least you’re allowed test corrections! We’re her AP class and the only way we can make up points is through a new essay.” “She’s scary. I swear” “I think she knows what I’m thinking and then that makes me think more and then she thinks what I’m thinking and that thinking makes my head hurt.” “I was ONE minute late to class and she gave me a late slip!” “One time my grandma called me in class, and she made me pick it up.” You shot a quick text to Natasha before the bell rang. Her classroom was two doors down from yours since you two were technically in the same department. Time to log off your grading program and begin class. You pulled out the binder with today’s lesson plans ready to begin. “Wow, you all are full of comments about Ms Romanoff today.” You said neutrally. “Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. She’s so ….uh, extra.” You withheld a smirk. Natasha wasn’t what you would call extra, but she was set in her ways.” “I don’t think she’s extra. I think she just has high standards.” You responded. One of the students rolled their eyes.

"Do you all talk about me like this when I'm not here?"

"Nooo Ms. Y/N, we would never!"

"Well, maybe you could extend the same courtesy to my wife next time," you said, withholding a laugh. The room fell silent. A pin could have dropped.

“Fuck” you heard someone say under their breath. “Language”, you chastised, but you couldn’t say you blamed them. You saw the students in various forms of awkward shuffling, a cough here or there or “Ummm” or “Uhh” as students tried to form sentences. “Wait, you’re married?” a student questioned before being glared at by the others. Your fourth period class was near silent for the rest of the period, with the students seemingly still in shock. One minute til the bell rang. You saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of your eye. Thirty seconds. Natasha knocked on the door. “Hey, you, we’re all ordering from Robert’s Deli for lunch. You want your usual or will you finally try something new?” Natasha teased. The class whipped their heads collectively towards the door. It was becoming harder not to laugh. Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on, Y/n?” “Oh, you’re scaring my class, dear!” You said, smiling widely. Natasha scoffed. “Dear, huh? Oh, so they found out, didn’t they? As if us entering the building together and leaving together in the same car wasn’t hint enough that we’re married.  Yeah, I might have scared a few of them. It was well deserved, trust me, Isn’t that right, Reynolds?” Jason Reynolds sank down into his seat, not meeting Natasha’s eyes. The bell rang. The students couldn’t scramble enough as they grabbed their bags and rushed past Natasha. You gave a small laugh as you finally met Natasha. “You’re a mean woman, you know that?” “Hey, you texted me, babe.” “It was great, not gonna lie. Sorry the “secret” is out.” “It’s not like we’re closeted, we’re simply professional. I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner….or maybe I’m not.” Natasha muttered. Your stomach growled. “Alright, I’ll look up the menu. Find something new to try for once. Promise.” You said in response to your stomach. Natasha nodded. “Don’t want you to scare the next class because you’re hungry.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End

[wroteclassicaly]

Daddy Steve

(Steve Harrington x Female Reader)

Summary: Steve finds out you’re pregnant.

Warnings: Language, hurt/comfort, best-friends to lovers, Daddy!Steve, mentions loss of virginity, alludes to smut, nausea, throwing up, and pregnancy stuff.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

A/N: Ever since that Daddy Steve comment in season three, my brain can’t get a breeding kink addicted Steve outta my filthy ass head! And thus, I bring you more trash that you didn’t ask for, lol!! I might do a part two with smut?? Enjoy! - Kristen <3

“C’mon, you love this stuff, honey,” Steve mumbles around a mouthful of buttery popcorn.

You’re smashed between him and your shared best-friend, Robin Buckley—on the sofa, watching some newly released horror film that went straight to video, and right into Steve’s VCR. You have to fight everything inside of you not to gag on the smell of popped kernels, urges to inhale, an automatic reflex that only serves to make your predicament worse. Robin wrinkles her nose in distaste, reaching across you and shoving his wrist away.

“Because having greasy ass butter on your chin is really encouraging her to try it out, Harrington.”

“Mhm,” You say, a half whimper slipping out. Your stomach rolls, making you automatically grip onto your baggy denim over shirt, the small swelling of your tummy a comfort.

Fuck the morning sickness… when did this start happening?

Robin’s eyes glance at you with a pitying worry, raising a brow in silent communication. You shake your head, giving her an ‘I’m fine’ signal, dodging Steve’s last classic film snack advance. When you catch sight of his tongue working to clean off his mouth’s corner, that ache teeters between your thighs, a rush of words tumbling off your lips.

“I have to go pee.” You scramble from the couch, nearly tripping over worn converse in the process.

And, as it turns out, your excuse is an even more idiotic thing to say. Steve’s voice halts you in your footfalls.

“Again? That’s like, the fifth time in an hour. And unless you’re chugging from some secret flask, I haven’t seen you drink much of anything, either.”

“I…”

“Dude, do not ever question a woman again about her bathroom habits, okay?” Robin interjects, giving him the Robin look.

“If she’s on her period she can just tell us that. You think I give a crap? We’re all friends here.” Steve shrugs a shoulder, tossing the empty popcorn bag down and ducking his salty fingers into his mouth with a delectable ‘pop’.

You’re momentarily lost within the realm of your raging hormones. Your doctor had told you to expect fluctuating moods, surprising shifts in your appetite; sexually, emotionally, physically, and nutrition wise. That explains why you’re always stealing Dustin’s sour candy and eating spoonfuls of peanut butter at 3:00 AM, crying at reruns of Cheers, and currently ogling your best-friend like he’s always been yours, and isn’t currently pining for someone else. Steve isn’t yours, despite what he’s put inside of you after one needy night together. His dark irises suddenly find you gawking, leaving him confused.

The way his nose is shaped, his jawline structure, that delicious neck he permitted you to mark at one point, that gorgeously soft hair you spent all night pulling, to that sinfully beautiful mouth—you’re speechless and very overwhelmed.

I need him…

He starts to move, but you hold up a hand. That would be sensory overload. “I should definitely go home after. I’ve got an early shift at the store tomorrow.” You lie.

“After what? Peeing?” Steve laughs.

Another ever changing hormone snaps your irritation, causing you to roll your eyes, desire lightly dissipating. “Obviously. That cool with you, King Harrington? Or do you need to further bore me with your pathetic excuse for a movie pick?”

Robin starts to edge back from Steve, his own anger at your snapping at him seeping through, coming off him in dangerous waves.

“Okay, what is with this goddamned attitude? We always watch bullshit movies and you’ve never complained about it before!”

“Mr. Former Prom King isn’t keen on attitudes now? Sounds like a problem that’s not mine.” You push, unable to stop yourself. After all, it’s better than feeling like garbage listening to him go on and on about Nancy, not even knowing he took your virginity and got you pregnant in one go.

If Steve could tuck his eyebrows into his hairline then they’d be there. His hands pinch his hips, lips pursed as he’s clenching his teeth.

“You know what, you should leave. Between your bitching, constant bathroom breaks, and acting too stuck up to watch a movie and eat some popcorn with your friends, you’re not much fun to be around anyways.”

“Steve!” Robin scolds.

“What? Princess is allowed to act like she’s too good to hang out lately and we can’t be upset about it?” Steve motions to you with a tipped hand.

There’s a burning brimming your eyes before you can stop it. You’d prefer the anger. Steve’s hands tighten at his sides, jaw twitching, a biting question, battling his urges to comfort you and apologize for upsetting you. “Why are you even crying right now?”

“Let’s all just calm down and breathe, okay?” Robin stands now, tiptoeing to meet in the middle of you.

“I was calm. I think you need to talk to her about all this. As a matter of fact, call her tomorrow after I call her a cab and she leaves, because I know she’s not working in the morning, and she just lied to our faces.” Steve adds.

Your face flushes, stomach tightening. That sickness is overpowering you, taking control. You can’t stop that watering in your eyes, blurring your vision, making your two best-friends blobs in the distance. They start arguing back and forth, Steve’s evident confusion at Robin defending your behavior, and Robin pleading with him to give you a break. You don’t say anything, but turn on your heel and make the walk down the hallway, barricading yourself in the bathroom and taking care of your pressing bladder, head in your hands as you silently cry.

Being a simple band geek that harbored a crush on Steve for years, turning into his best-friend too when you and Robin began working at the mall with him, to leaning on each other when Starcourt fell into shambles and monsters became very real to you, finalizing one shared night three months ago—it all happened so fast. Steve never said anything more after, just thanked you for being there for him and checked in on you with phone calls and a work chat. You couldn’t bear staying with him that night, either, so you had left, leaving your virginity and your scent behind on Steve’s sheets. You wanted to, you needed him as much as he had to have you, but you weren’t sure how to feel about it, and Robin had picked it up right away—scolding you, before asking how it was and if you were alright. She’s been there for you through it all, and you’re double on the guilt at dragging her into this mess.

“Honey?” A heavy rasping of knuckles and a deep voice, a softer tone is sighing out on the other side.

You imagine him in that Steve Harrington lean, his ankle crossed over the other, palm on the framework, posture leaning into the doorway. Heaving out a breath you shouldn’t have held, you finish and wash your hands, throat constricting around a painful gulp as you unlatch the lock and pull open the door.

You’re right.

His lips making that familiar motion, dark eyes saddened, worried, guilt ridden. You don’t even let him speak, locking your arms around his striped clad waist, arms sliding down, wrists brushing his leather belt. You inhale his laundry detergent, cologne spritzed scent, sniffling your apologies in quiet words. He lets you go on, pulling away a minute later to grip your shoulders, squeezing. “If you are on your period… or you’re upset about something, or I pissed you off, will you please talk to me?”

Your heartbeat gallops full speed ahead, thrumming sporadically against your throat. “I’m not on my period, Steve.” The words feel dry, your lips too chapped to even speak.

“Then what is it, and why can you tell Robin but not me?” He sounds hurt. Really hurt.

You find yourself at a loss, tongue stumbling to scrape up scraps of words. Nothing comes.

“She hasn’t told me shit, but I know that she knows what’s going on?”

You escape his words, chickening out. “My cab ride will probably be here soon, I better go.”

“I never called a cab.” Steve crosses his arms over his chest now. “And I wasn’t going to, you just pissed me off.”

“Yeah, well… ditto.” You snark, not meaning to.

“Okay, care to share why? Because I do everything I can to make sure you’re safe and you’re smiling. It makes me feel like shit when you feel like shit.”

Every scenario you imagined telling Steve about carrying his baby in, you never thought it would be him hovering over your blubbering, nauseated, hot mess form. But as you look into those eyes of his—glittering with undiluted concern, pulse vibrating off your lungs, ping ponging off your jugular, the words come on their own.

“I’m pregnant.”

That very popular symptom of sickness overtakes you, having you abandoning Steve in the doorway with your confession, your knees hitting the floor, head over the toilet bowl as it all comes out. And you sob. Over exerted from physical exhaustion, mentally tired over a guilty conscious, and ready to go to sleep—you pathetically cling to the Harrington’s guest toilet, panting, mouth wet, trembling hand reaching for your hair, only to be swept away. When you look up your heart takes a painful blow, stuttering in your chest. Steve’s eyes are watering, teeth gnawing on his lower lip.

He looks wounded, defeated. Like you kicked him into a gutter and left him there. Alone.

Still, he helps you lean back, stretching his long arm to flush the toilet and reach for a decorative hand towel, using the bathtub faucet behind him to wet it and press it along your forehead, edging down your neck, finally cleaning your mouth. He’s so gentle, so delicate in his touches, aside from his own emotions. You grip his wrist, seeing the dried tears matting his gorgeous lashes, holding his hand in yours. “I’m sorry.”

“How long have you known?” Is all he can croak, voice shaky and damp. He settles back against the wall, you following suit, still holding his hand in yours.

“Two months.”

“We had sex three months ago.” He reminds you, as if maybe he’s unsure how to approach it.

He remembers?

“I found out when I was already four weeks. Besides, it can’t be anyone else’s when I’ve only slept with you.”

“But we were just together for one night.” He looks confused, scrubbing a hand over his face, sniffing.

“Yeah, Steve, we were.” You hope to god that he gets the message without you having to say it.

It takes him moments, which feel like eternity. And then you are very aware of his pointed stare. “Are you telling me I’ve been the only guy to ever take you to bed?”

“Looks like it. Congrats.” You mutter, lifting your knees, an indulging stance your little swollen bump won’t let you complete. You grab over it, an instinctive reaction. Steve’s directing a watchful eye over your bulky denim, swallowing, his words coming out meek, gently. “Can I see?”

You look like a deer caught in headlights, moving to drop his hand, but he holds on, fingertips drawing circles over the back of your palm. “It’s okay.”

It relaxes you enough to agree, using your right hand to lift the denim, your simple lavender top stretched over the small swell that’s nestled at your navel, expanding towards your hips. You feel Steve move your joined hands over the fabric, scraping, scratching, dipping down underneath the bottom, hovering. “It won’t hurt it if I feel, right?”

This makes you laugh softly, shaking your head. “You didn’t pay attention in health class at all, did you?” At his exasperated dumbfounded look, you continue. “S’ okay, Steve. Just please don’t push on anything, because I can’t promise you the front of your shirt won’t look like the Exorcist after.”

“That bad, huh?” He questions, sincerity dripping through his words.

“You have no idea.” You help him raise your tee beneath your breasts, that cute and developing bump in all its glory. Your skin, already getting a couple more stretch marks, shines in the low light of the bathroom, your breathing and Steve’s all that is audible.

Times like this you wish you had your Polaroid to take his absolutely fascinated stare in. His big hand closes over it, pressing feather light, his watch showing 10:01 PM. It feels so damned good to have him know, to have someone touching you like this. And oddly… it’s as if this is how it should always be.

Steve is on the precipice of unknown, a possessive derailment wiggling its way into his normally calm exterior. His baby. Parts of him that fused with parts of you, growing an entire human being. And the sheer fact that you’re swollen with his child? He has to fight every way that pummels a fire into the pit of his stomach.

“I took your virginity when we made this?” He is marveling.

You clear your throat, embarrassed. “You did.”

He sniffles once more, then he’s palming circles across your stomach, before respectfully tugging your shirt down and adjusting it. He makes a move to halt you from shaking the denim back down. “You don’t have to hide it anymore. Please, don’t.”

You give a watery look of incredulous admiration, grateful he’s still the Steve Harrington you have come to know.

And love…

But he doesn’t have to be privy to that part.

“They said I should be able to hear its heartbeat next week.” A lightened load off your chest has you audibly relaxing against Steve’s shoulder—unintentional, but natural—his arm resting around your shoulders, kneading out mounts of week long tension.

“How big is it? I mean… can they tell?” His fascinating questionnaires have you giddy.

Ever the inquiring man.

You move your neck from side to side, attempting to fixate on the knots, trying to get some squeeze off your muscles. Steve takes notice immediately, his fingers tucking beneath your shirt collar, pinching your flesh and rolling it under his easy grip. “Don’t worry, I got you. How’s that?”

“Mhm, s’ good, Stevie.” His nickname tumbles free, making him squeeze you affectionately. “A plum, by the way.”

He does rear back this time, bewildered, a ‘huh’ pressed into the line between his brows.

You laugh, his ministrations on your neck’s nape continuing. “The baby. It’s the size of a plum, is the way they described it to me. Or whatever I wanna think of that is that size.”

“Can I come?” When you frown, he’s quick to continue, his voice a raspy whisper, still tear-dampened. “To the appointment, I mean.”

You won’t deny how your heart is racing, how his wanting to be involved is both scary and welcomed, but you’re also on the defense, walls up. You can only imagine what his parents will think, what everyone will think. And Nancy… You don’t want to ruin anyone’s future from one one sided night of meaningless sex.

Steve can see the wheels turning in your head, your muscles tensing beneath his touch. It’s a bit frightening.

“Honey—“

“I didn’t need anyone’s permission in deciding to have or keep this baby, Steve. I don’t expect any help, I don’t want any pity support. I’ll be fine on my own.”

The familiarity of descending guilt slaps you in the face, Steve’s shocked look peppering his features. “You think I don’t want to help with my own baby? You think I’m that much of a fucking douchebag?!” He stands now, hands on his hips in that stern way.

You too attempt to stand, gripping the empty towel rack to keep steady. “I didn’t know if that’s what you’d want, Steve. We’re both still so young. It’s my body, so the decision to carry our child was up to me. If I wasn’t going to, I still would’ve told you. As for helping? Like I said, we’re both young and you’re attached… elsewhere.” You try, carefully avoiding her name. “S’ not like I was excited to be the Midwest mom that traps the former heartthrob.”

“Then that would make me the Midwest dad that should’ve worn a condom and taken care of you more. If we’re sharing blame here, let’s even it out.”

You’re very aware he meant something else, but it brings you right back to being beneath him, your legs wide open, thighs trembling, hands holding purchase, unsure, going with him, letting Steve lead. That burning loss of feeling Steve Harrington between your thighs is enough to cause you to squeeze your legs, drawing his attention. And whatever this fresh feeling is, he seems to be feeling it too.

Steve lets his arm shift, fingers combing your hair back behind your ear. “You thinkin’ about it?”

You’re pitifully admitting, hands cupping his back as you slink into his embrace. It’s warm, it’s safe, it’s Steve Harrington. There will be a time for talking, but now isn’t it, now is soaking each other in, being together, with your baby boy or girl.

“I’m thinking a lot of things.” Is your answer, but it’s enough for him to remember how you felt that night, the way you gave yourself to him and stayed right there with him.

There’s a soft air around you both, seemingly helping ward off your aching insides, letting the nausea vanish. Your hand wraps itself over the swell, Steve watching in admiration, hand lowering onto your own. It’s back and forth grins, and you’re pulling away as you remember Robin is still in the living room. Stepping forward and out of Steve’s too warm for your hormones to handle embrace, you turn on the bathroom faucet to wash your hands and cup some water into them, drinking and swishing the nasty taste out. Steve doesn’t take his eyes off you, even as you both find your shared best-friend in living room, brow raised in concern and amusement.

Your bump is on full display and she is shaking her short mane, eyeing Steve’s doe eyed gaze, the color on his cheeks. “Aww, congrats, Daddy Dingus.”

You burst into laughter, full on.

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Enemies to lovers, period sex and dirty talk with james potter please 🥹

yay a kinktober request! this is why i love these things, i would've never put those together (this request gave me some saltburn vibes ngl but dw i didn't take it that direction)

mdni obviously, fem!reader wc: 3.8k - sorry i got a bit carried away; hope you enjoy!

Bloody Hell

Damn, it was like your period was on a schedule to come when as inconvenient as possible recently. You weren’t supposed to get it for a few days. You groan, clutching your achy back, considering whether this meant you had to change your Halloween costume for tonight. You were going to Sirius’s party as witch. It didn’t involve white trousers or anything ridiculously tight or short, so you felt fine wearing your fancy dress with your now necessary period pants. 

As the day dragged on, pain killers helped the cramps, but definitely not the moodiness. It’d been a while since it made you this grumpy. But, Halloween only came once a year, and you’d been excited for the party, so you try to change your attitude as you’re getting ready later.

The witch’s costume is a bit typical, but you’d loved the colours and liked the classics. Besides, it fit unusually well. Tight and loose in all the right places, the perfect skirt length, and not to mention what it did for your… bosom. You looked hot. The first person you see upon arriving at Sirius’s does not help your mood: James bloody Potter. Looking gorgeous as ever… Wait, what? No. Not gorgeous. Annoying. Yes, that was it. Annoying and smug and irritating and fit. Ugh, okay, whatever. He looked really fit. 

He hadn’t dressed too far from his normal self. Still wearing his typical leather jacket and jeans, but he’d cuffed them differently and had arranged his usually very messy luscious head of hair differently. 

“A witch, Y/L/N? Really?” God, why did his stupid, gruff voice always have such an effect on you?

“Not very creative.” “At least I dressed up, Potter. What are you supposed to be? A twat?” 

“Har-har. So witty. This, for your information, is a 1950’s look.” “Oh, is it? I thought I saw you wearing it last week.” 

He just glares at you. “Alright, alright, you two. Should’ve dressed as vampires; hasn’t even been five minutes, and you’re already at each other’s throats,” Sirius comes interrupting, giving you a quick greeting hug and shoving James a bit along the way. 

“Hi, Siri,” you hug back. “Blame your bestie. He’s the one who doesn’t know how to be nice.” “Oh, because you’re always a ray of sunshine?” James retorts. “Fucking hell,” Sirius sighs, already walking away, busy playing host. He’s already turned his back but you — both of you — clearly hear his exasperated, “Just fuck already, and stop torturing the rest of us.” 

Your wide, mortified eyes snap to James, whose expression mirrors yours. Then he just scoffs and walks away. Typical. 

The party goes on and is actually quite fun. The place is completely covered in Halloween decorations, and some of the costumes are amazing. It’s working wonders on your mood, especially when Remus arrives, but the grumpiness has a way of sneaking its way back into your system whenever Potter approaches. 

You catch him looking over at you frequently, and it gets on your nerves. What does he want? To pick a fight? And why do you care? You try to ignore him as you keep chatting to Remus.

But it becomes impossible when he comes to stand right next to you. “Alright, mate?” He claps Remus on the shoulder, completely ignoring you. 

“I’m standing right here, Potter,” you can’t help but say.

“Yes, I noticed.” “Did you? Because, you see, most people when they notice someone is having a conversation, don’t just interrupt it and ignore them.”

Remus is off with a sighed, “Not this again.” “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot how much you love my attention,” James says smugly, finally turning to you and smirking. You roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m desperate for it,” you deadpan. “Though don’t think I haven’t notice you looking at me, Potter. If I did want your attention, I wouldn’t really be left wanting, would I?”

He seems a bit flustered by this, and you love it when you actually manage to get to him, to render him speechless even if for a mere moment. So, without a clear idea of where it will even lead, you pounce on the opportunity that seems to be presenting itself. 

“Am I wrong? Why have you been so interested in what I’m doing tonight then?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, take a step closer. This really throws him.

“Pfft, have not.” He crosses his arms defensively. “Wow. So witty.” You cross your arms, mirroring him. 

This draws his gaze down to your chest, and it lingers there. He seems to catch himself after a few seconds, but it was still a few seconds too many. Interesting. 

God, was there any way Sirius was right? It was bound to happen some time. 

And even if he was… if James was… what? into you? as into you as you were him? was that what you wanted? Actually admitting the feelings sounded much scarier than relentlessly arguing with him forever. 

You’ve gotten lost in your thoughts (and, ugh, feelings), so you don’t notice how long has gone by. Nor do you notice that your demeanour is changing, shifting from teasing and challenging to reflective and slightly worried. 

“What?” James asks, noticing.

“Nothing,” you panic.

“You’re definitely thinking something.” He waves an accusatory finger around your face. “Pfft, am not.” “Wow. So witty,” he repeats, and it’s filled with glee at retaking the upper hand. 

This annoys you to no end, but you still can’t think of anything to say, so you just push past him with a “you’re so annoying.”

You try for a while to enjoy the party, to ignore James Potter — and the many thoughts and feelings about James Potter that won’t stop hounding you. You keep looking over at him, unable to help yourself. 

The seemingly millionth time you do, his eyes catch yours. You want to look away, but something keeps you from doing so. Not wanting to give him the upper hand, again? Not wanting to look away from his beautiful orbs, possibly? 

You just stare at each other from across the room for what feels like the heaviest few seconds of your life. Then his gaze drops, and rather than victory you feel… disappointment. You want him looking at you. Want to look at him back. Your disappointment doesn’t last for too long, though, as you realize he’s walking over to you.

He stops right in front of you, extremely close. He doesn’t say anything. You watch each other intently. “You’re staring at me,” he finally says. “You were staring at me first.” 

Expecting him to deny it, you’re stunned when he responds, “So what if I was?” Then he checks you out shamelessly, his eyes dragging across your whole body, lingering on your chest, exploring your face, before landing back on your own.

That’s it. Stupid, shameless Potter. You do the only thing to do: you take a tiny step forward and smash your lips against his.

He’s kissing you back ardently before you even truly realize what’s happening. His hands grasp you desperately, pulling your body into his; his mouth contorts over yours, devouring you hungrily. He moans deeply enough for you to hear it over the loud sounds of the party. When he gropes your arse, you moan back. But you also realize what the fuck is happening. In the middle of a crowded room. So you pull back from him. 

His mouth chases yours desperately, not wanting to break apart. 

“Wait, James, wait.” He does. And he’s looking at you funny. “Are you alright?” you ask him. “I like how you say my name, sweetheart.” His sincerity surprises you, melts you. So even though you can’t help yourself as you respond, “Whatever, Potter,” it’s much softer than usual, warmth where there’s usually snark. He smirks at you.

“So can we keep kissing now?” “We’re in public, James.” 

You don’t miss his lips quirk at the word. “So?” “So? I’m not a bloody exhibitionist! I have some standards…” “Toilet, then?” “Yeah, toilet,” you nod frantically. 

His hands don’t release your hips the whole way you chase each other to the bathroom. He catches the back of your neck in a couple of quick kisses, and it’s sending tingles down your whole body.

You’re extremely grateful it’s empty when you reach it, rushing in in a frenzy. James slams the door shut and wastes no time in pushing you against it. He picks up where you had left off.

His mouth is hot and delicious against yours, his tongue dancing against yours in its explorations. He enjoys your mouth but soon traces down your jaw and starts sucking on your throat. You shiver at the sensations and pull him to you, your fingers winding into his gorgeous hair. He moans at this and the vibrations directly against your skin make you whimper.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says, his lips still tracing your throat. “I love the sounds you make.” 

You hum, and he grazes his teeth across your skin, morphing your voice into a soft yelp. “Yeah, like that,” he chuckles gruffly.

The next time his mouth makes it to the base of your neck, he continues downward. He starts kissing the tops of your tits desperately, bringing his hands up your body to grope them as he does. 

“Fuck, I’ve been going mad all night looking at these. You should wear this every day.” His hands move to your hips pulling you from the door over to the sink. “C’mere,” he says as he lifts you to sit on the small counter.

You wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. You play with his hair as he kisses you fervently.

“I’ve always wanted to pull your hair,” you confess, surprising both of you with your honesty. “Oh yeah?” He looks so turned on, you throw any last inhibitions out the window. “Yeah. Fuck, you have nice hair.” You tug harshly on it, and his reacting groan is almost animalistic. His now black eyes stare directly into yours for a charged moment before he dives back into you. 

He kisses wetly down to your throat and chest, and this time when he gets to your breasts, he unceremoniously pulls your dress and bra down. 

“Fuck, you have nice tits,” he echoes and grins. He plays with them, kneading them and tugging on your nipples, rolling them between his fingers before shoving his face between them. He licks across your chest and circles your nipple with his tongue. He switches eagerly between them, puckering them both up before taking one into his greedy mouth and sucking. You let out a loud, strangled whimper at the intense and exquisite sensation, and James hums around your tit. You cradle his head against you.

Rubbing his face against your breasts, he pleads, “That’s it, baby. Keep making those sounds. I love hearing how good you feel. It’s so fucking hot.”

“Jaames,” you whine as he sucks your nipple again. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” Groping them hard one more time, he brings his hands down from your tits, massaging your sides before grabbing your thighs. He squeezes them harshly, jiggling them and running his nails across your skin. 

He’s running his hands up your thighs, under your skirt, toward your center, whispering “You wet for me, baby?” when your stomach drops and you remember, panicking. You’d been so caught up in James, you’d entirely forgotten. 

“Fuck!” you yelp, pushing James away suddenly. He stumbles, then takes a steadying step back. He looks completely confused (and unreasonably sexy, all scruffed up from making out with you). “Fucking hell, Y/N. What? You alright?” 

“I — fuck, yeah, I’m fine — I just — fuck.” You cover your face with your hands and squeeze your thighs shut. “Hey,” James says much more softly. “What’s up, love? Y’alright? You’re kind of freaking me out.” “Ugh, ‘m so sorry,” you slur into your hands. He grabs your wrists gently, pulling them away from your face. “It’s alright, whatever it is. Just… can you tell me what’s wrong?” God, how you wish you could vanish in that moment. Or better, not have had your bloody — literally — body betray you like this this morning. Why this fucking time of all times to come early? 

You’re mortified, embarrassed as hell, wishing there was some way out of this without having to explain the truth and put James Potter off, probably for good. After all the time and tension it’d taken to get you here at all. 

“Y/n?”

You take a steadying breath but still can’t get the words out. So you cover your face again, only able to utter them while feeling hidden from him. “‘M on my period,” you confess. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, so you brave moving your hands down and looking up at him. You’re not sure how to read his expression. Then he grins lightly and brings his hands to your cheeks. He tucks your now messy hair behind your ears on both sides before holding your face. 

He’s surprised you several times tonight, but this next one takes the cake. “If you don’t mind, I don’t mind,” he says simply with a shrug and a caress of your cheeks. “What?” You can’t believe it. Every other guy it’d come up with before had treated it like the most disgusting thing. “I don’t mind,” he repeats, chuckling, moving his face closer to yours to look up deeply into your eyes. 

“Are you serious?” “Yeah. I mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine, obviously. Like if you’re not feeling well or whatever, but if it’s just about the blood… I can handle a little blood.” “It’s more than a little,” you whisper embarrassedly.

“I didn’t mean it literally,” he laughs. How can he seem so lighthearted? Could he really not mind?

He brings his hands back to your thighs, pulling them slowly apart, giving you time to resist the motion, stepping between them when you don’t. He messages them on either side of his hips. “So?” he asks seductively, clearly eager to continue. “You really don’t mind?" “Really. Fuck, Y/N, I’ve been wanting this so fucking long, I’d be a madman if I waited longer just because you’re on your period.” 

Worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you open your legs a bit wider at his words. The dark smirk that usurps James’s expression as you do makes your cunt pulse. God, you want him. Blood be damned. 

Slowly, so slowly it’s driving you insane, he ghosts his hands over your skin the rest of the way up your legs. When they finally reach your underwear, they snake under the waistband and tentatively pull. You lift your hips, and he yanks them the rest of the way off. 

Instinctively, you try to shut your legs. James standing where he is only lets you do it part of the way. Pushing the insides of your knees open again, he says, “No need to hide, gorgeous.” “I — “ But words fail you. So, you simply let him open your legs. 

Sensing your tension, James kisses you again. He starts softly, but you’re both so hungry for each other, so worked up already despite the interruption, that it’s only a few seconds before you’re ravaging each other again, moaning and grasping and pulling each other close. With his mouth still on yours, one hand holding your face, the other comes between your legs, grazing where your thigh meets your cunt.

You shiver, a combination of nerves and pleasure. He breaks your kiss, but rests his forehead on yours, looking straight into your eyes. He lifts his eyebrows in question, and you nod hesitantly. 

He finally brings his fingers to your center, ghosting over it. When you feel the string of your tampon under his fingers, you ashamedly let out an “Oh, god” then “sorry.”

James tssks at you and whispers, “’S alright, sweetheart. It’s fine. Maybe let’s get rid of this, though, cos it’s where I want to be, yeah?” Fuck, how could he keep turning you on even more? You nod and bring your hand between your legs. You pull out the tampon and toss it over into the rubbish bin.

Without further ado, James touches you properly. His fingers slide up and down your wet folds. Your slick and blood mix under his ministrations, but it feels so fucking unreal that you finally start not to care.

You’d always been sensitive during your period. But no one else had ever touched you during it. Nor had it been after ages of sexual tension and lustful fantasies. Every graze of his hand is divine, and when his motions become proper strokes, the full length of his fingers rubbing against you, you squeal as your head falls onto his shoulder. One hand clutches the sink, the other James. “Feel good?” he teases. “Yes,” you sigh desperately.

“How about this then?” he asks as he plunges two fingers into you. You scream. 

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he laughs. “I mean, keep screaming, but maybe not so loud. Don’t want anyone to come knocking when I’m finally this close to fucking you.”

“Fuck.” “Hmm, that’s it. Just relax, love.” His hand thrusts as his fingers curl inside you, and you clench in utter pleasure. “Fuuuck, you’re squeezing me so bloody tight, love. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” You let out some kind of strained affirmative groan and clench again. “Yeah? Want to feel me fill you up?” “Yes, fuck, yes, please.” 

“Who knew you could be this nice, Y/L/N? That all it’d take was my fingers inside you.” “Shut up, Potter.” But there’s no bite to it. “We both know you don’t want me to shut up. I can feel how much you’re enjoying this.” You just bite your lip and whimper when he pushes his thumb against your clit. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You can bring the snark back after I make you cum.” 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the thought, and you nod, giving into him. “I know I could do it like this, but I can’t wait any longer to feel you, baby.”

He pulls his hand out of you, and you whine. When you see how entirely covered in blood it is, any further sounds die in your throat at your mortification. 

“I —“ you start, but James just shakes his head and kisses you to shut you up. Not breaking apart from you, he reaches blindly for the hand towel and cleans his hands when he finally finds it. There’s still dark red traces of you on the fingers that then hurry to his trousers, opening them in a rush. He pushes them down and pulls his cock free. Your cunt clenches around nothing at the sight. “James,” you whine. “Yeah, sweetheart?” “Please fuck me.” With a deep groan, one of his hands roughly pulls your head to keep making out with you and the other grabs his cock and lines it up with your center. He pushes in fast. His mouth devours the sounds yours makes in response. 

He starts pounding in and out of you, not bothering to start slow. You’re sure you’d be wet enough regardless, but as things stand, he’s gliding in and out of you. A loud squelching sounds as he thrusts, but before you have time to be embarrassed, James moans, “Fuck, you feel so fucking amazing,” and pounds harder.

He has to bring one hand to the sink just behind you to stabilize himself from how roughly he’s going; his other hand takes a vice-like grip of your hip. His head ends up in the crook of your neck, and he kisses and sucks. Your hand comes to his hair, your other arm clinging around his shoulders clutching him as your whole body reverberates with his movements.

He slows down only enough to lean his head slightly down to where your tits are bouncing. He sucks your nipple and keeps it in his mouth as he keeps fucking into you. At the harsh and unexpected suck, you scream again. He makes no effort to quiet you. 

With his face at your chest, he’s opened a bit of space between your bodies, and he brings a hand to where he keeps disappearing in and out of you. He starts rubbing messily on your clit. 

With that sensation on top of all the others that have your body on fire, you cum violently around him with strangled yell. 

He thrusts through it, but a few clenches of your pussy later, he can’t help but cum too. Your clutching cunt milks him dry. 

He’s panting loudly when he finally stops moving, his hips still, his face resting on your chest. An aftershock ripples through him, and his body gives a quick shake. Then he gives your breast a quick peck before moving to kiss your mouth. It doesn’t last; he’s so out of breath, but he rests his forehead on yours as he recovers. His arms rest on the sink on either side of you, caging you in. You feel warm and safe, and you stroke up and down his strong arms. He smiles and pecks your lips. 

“Not bad, Potter,” you finally break the silence. He chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“You cannot possibly act nonchalant after the sounds you just made, Y/L/N. I’m surprised no one burst in here thinking someone was getting murdered.”

You laugh together. It’s concerningly nice.

When you settle down, James looks between you. He pulls out gently. And it’s a fucking mess. 

“I don’t think the words ‘bloody hell’ have ever been so appropriate,” he jokes, staring at it. “Oh god,” you say, covering your face in your hands again. “C’mon, Y/L/N. I thought we were past this bit.” It’s harsh but encouraging as he pulls your hands from your face and quickly kisses your forehead. “C’mon,” he offers as he helps lift you off the counter in a way that lets you hop over the… puddle. 

You both stand there staring at the crimson crime scene of a sink. 

Looking at it but leaning toward you, James asks, “D’you think we could get away with saying it’s Halloween decorations?” 

You burst out laughing again.

“The blood, maybe, but… there’s some of you there too…” 

“Well, at least our first time is certainly memorable. Happy Halloween, Y/L/N.” 

Your heart does something funny at “first time.” So, you ignore it for now and simply say, “Help me clean this up before Sirius actually does murder us in here.”

[stargirlfics]

Misbehavior

Joel Miller x Black F!Reader

Summary: It’s the first and last time you ever talk back to his face

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, post-outbreak, Joel and Ellie are settled in Jackson, established relationship, brat tamer!Joel vibes, smut: rough sex, unprotected vaginal sex, orgasm denial, hair pulling, spanking mentions, dirty talk

Word Count: 3.1k

Cannot stop thinking about Joel’s sick little smirk here! I want him to put me in my place so bad, hope you enjoy this one!

It’s the way Joel Miller looks riding his horse, a hunting knife on his hip and a rifle held expertly along with the reigns in his broad hands that makes your skin prickle and your breathing deepen. 

Spring is still yet thawing the cold woods ahead of you but you only feel heat staring at his sturdy shoulders, sturdy everything actually, that you knew to be a fact, smiling to yourself about it as your own horse trailed closeby just a few feet behind him. 

Being paired with him and being with him period felt right, natural, like somehow this was always where you were meant to be in this life. 

You trusted each other now, able to move in silence like this, with his steady and well adjusted trigger finger and your sharp eyes, pointing out tracks, watching for signs of life, listening for infected or raiders, the two of you undoubtedly working well together. 

In fact everyone in Jackson said so, especially Ellie, but if any of them knew just how much of a brat you’d been to him in the beginning they’d be surprised you were together at all. 

It’s not that you and him got off on the wrong foot, but keeping him just on the edge of aggravated kept you at a safe distance away from acting on your distracted, midday, late night thoughts about him. 

He was wary of strangers anyways and back then you were unknown to each other and gaining trust had taken time but eventually you stopped keeping each other at arm's length.

Started seeing each other around the stables more often, or rather you saw Ellie there and quickly learned that wherever she was, Joel wasn’t too far behind. 

You remembered showing her the way around the barn, where supplies were kept in case she ever needed anything, noticing her interest in the animals, encouraging it, indulging in her never ending questions because you only wanted to see her smile. 

In retrospect you think that’s why Joel tolerated your game of push and pull, why he warmed up to you in the end, because you were someone his kiddo approved of. 

Funny how things could change, how a relationship could form in between quiet glances and soft smiles, weathered walls falling at the brush of his hand against yours and that smooth drawl saying your name as if it were sacred. 

That was then and this was now, patrolling the perimeters together in the moonlight. 

A soft toned whistle that loosened from his lips caught your attention, spine straightening at the signal that was just for you and him. 

“Hm?” came your distracted hum, huffed in response while you picked up speed so your horses were walking almost side by side then. 

“I heard you went out on patrol completely on your own the other night, yeah? While knowin raiders have been close, ain’t that right? So I’m only going to say this once…start explaining.” 

His voice is clipped, a quiet, contained anger in them reminding you of his sharper edges, the ones you’d only caught glimpses of, heard whispers of, that visceral part of him that only raged to protect the people he loved most. 

Joel would never hurt you, if you were certain of anything it was that, but there were times where you wanted to feel even just a fraction of his wrathful touch, to be reminded of what he’s capable of, knowing he could make it hurt in the best way.

It’s the thought along with the shiver rolling through your limbs that makes your pace falter, as you scramble for words and then for air next when all you were met with was dark eyes cutting a pointed glance your way. 

“Fuck…ok yes, I did but it was only because there was already a group of us nearby, it felt safe. They sent someone back to get a message to me that they found tracks, a stag, just needed my help finding him. Then one of Tommy’s guys escorted me back, it was fine.”  

“Doesn’t mean you should have gone on your own, I  don’t give a damn how safe it was.” 

“Hey! I’ve been hunting and going on patrols by myself long before you showed up,” you shot back at his harsh retort, suddenly feeling defensive. “I know these woods like the back of my hand, I could be blindfolded and still come back with more game than you, old man.”

He scoffed at your insult, another heavy glare coming right after. 

“I don’t doubt that for a second, darlin. Just wish you would have told me is all I’m sayin.” 

There’s weight in his words, a deeper meaning you pick up immediately and you know he’s right and there’s no denying that you’d be chewing him out ten times worse if he’d done the same, the risk of losing each other an easy nerve to strike after all that’s happened. 

A beat of silence punctates the air before you’re speaking again, tone much softer, apologetic. 

“I hear you. I should have at least told you and I’m sorry I didn’t, I wasn't really thinking in the moment. Thank you, by the way, for caring about me enough to say something.” 

You hoped he could hear the guilt laced in your words, and the gratefulness of them too, still getting used to someone so wired to protect which never failed to make your heart flip. Nobody told you it could feel like this. 

“S’alright, of course I care. I don’t wanna downplay how skilled you are either, I just hate thinking of something happenin and not being there you know.” 

That had you smiling a little, pulse fluttering at the reminder of your feelings for each other, the gravity behind what he was saying. 

Gently you let your leg nudge his, both your horses slowing as you came to the edge of the perimeter you were watching.

“I promise it won’t happen again.” 

The softening edge of Joel’s eyes were visible now as he looked at you, giving you a firm but approving nod. 

Silence settles between you again, only lighter this time with feelings eased and things smoothed over though for you, there was a leftover kind of excitement stirring in your tummy. 

Your ears were still ringing with the gruffness of his voice, an antsy energy in your limbs at how stern he had been. Heated distraction lodged itself front and center in your mind, thoughts of Joel handling you just as harshly as his glares had been making you squirm in your saddle. 

A low chuckle interrupts the tiny sparks of a dirty daydream you didn’t even realize you’d fallen into until now. 

“What’s so funny?” you feign innocence. 

“Nothin, just think it’s cute when you get that look on your face, only happens when you’re hungry…or when you wanna be fucked.” 

Again, you were left scrambling for words for the second time tonight, heart hammering in your chest at the way the last few words slid from his lips, dripping with some unspoken invitation. 

“I-don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Disagreeing is pointless when you know he can see it written across your face but you refute anyways, adding a bit of attitude to your tone. 

Joel huffs another laugh, clicking his tongue while he encouraged his horse to move again, back in the direction you’d come. 

“Hm, you were so ready to agree with me just a minute ago, now you’re back to sassin me?” 

“Maybe I am. What’s so wrong about that?” you shrug and roll your eyes for good measure. 

He was opening up all the right doors and you were almost too eager to walk through them, craving the part of Joel you knew could get mean.

“I’m really gonna have to do something about that mouth of yours, huh,” he sighed, amusement curling around the edges of his lips. 

Butterflies danced in your core as you smirked back at him, finding your footing quick, “Oh I should hope so, I’ll be waiting.” 

It’s what you leave him with as you surge forward, not straying too far from his line of sight, but enough so that he has some distance to cover. 

Joel gives you a few seconds, lets you think you’re gaining some kind of upper hand before he sets out after you, a tick in his jaw and a hungry itch in his hands. 

–

It’s only a day later that you realize how screwed you are, facing down the stark reality of this little game you started. 

He had cornered you, finding you in the hall leading to his bedroom, a dark glint in his eyes when he tells you it’s an empty house tonight, just you, him and unfinished business. 

The tip of his boot moves to give your heel a light tap then, prompting you to move. 

“Want you in bed, sweetheart. Now.” 

There’s a suspended moment before you’re sealing your fate, pushing the pendulum fully in his direction.

“I don’t really feel like listening to you though, so I guess you’ll just have to make me…if you can even handle it,” you tip your chin up, trying not to be intimidated by the way he’s crowding your space. 

Your skin tingles, never having talked back to him so flat out before. 

Then you realize he’s already got you where he wants, strong hands snaking around your middle until he’s got one on your hip and the other reaching for a fistful of your hair, gripping firmly before he’s moving you forward, pushing you through the doorway. 

A sharp gasp bubbles up from your chest and he’s laughing darkly.  

There’s no use in resisting or struggling but you do anyway, finding a thrill in how easy it is for him to keep you locked in his grip, liking the aggressive pinch of his fingers as he moves your limbs for you, bringing you over to the bed, forcing you to bend over it.

Shaky hands reach for purchase against the sheets as Joel slides his palms over your ass, humming to himself. 

“I keep thinkin bout spanking this pretty ass of yours raw but you’d probably enjoy that too much wouldn’t you?” 

All you can do is whine, too worked up to think of anything witty to say which is probably for the best. 

No time was wasted, nothing held back, no teasing to be had, the two of you desperate now, needy. 

The heated skin of your thighs meets cool air as Joel strips you down, yanking at your clothes carelessly, so what if the fabric tears in his hands, he just needs you bare and underneath him already. 

You work on your top half, wriggling out of your t-shirt, tossing your bra to the floor, moonlight setting the brown of your skin aglow; Joel would have called you an angel if he didn’t know just how wicked your sweet self could really be. 

It’s not long before your cheek is pressed to the bed, hips high in the air, the dripping mess that you are on display as he fits himself behind you. 

He grins, undoing the buckle of his belt with one hand while the other braces against your hip, pressing down, deepening the arch in your back. 

Fuck. 

The arousal swirls achingly across your body, thighs clenching as you watch, his worn flannel falling the ground next to your jeans, your eyes feasting on the expanse of his shoulders, down over his chest, down to where he was drawing himself out, already stiff, flushed and aching to be buried deep. 

“Remember how to tell me if you wanna stop?” His question is one you’re expecting, nodding with a soft whine when he moves to grind his cock against where you’re wet and eager, your hand reaching back to tap a sequence against his skin. 

He seemed to approve of your demonstration, his free hand coating the rest of his length in your slick with a few dirty strokes of his fist before pressing against you, the tip catching and your walls yielding, letting him sink inside. 

“Oh..Joel!” your moan is strained, punctuated with a gasp as you stretch around him, tenderly accomodating to his size. 

There isn’t much time to adjust before he’s rolling his hips and pulling back, pushing an exhale from your lungs when he thrusts back in, nudging deep. 

“Goddamnit, sweetheart. Look at you.” 

There’s so much reverence in his voice, big brown eyes sparking wide with pleasure, so much so you think he just might have forgotten about your earlier insolence. 

But then he’s pulling his hips back and snapping them forward roughly, setting a steady pace that has you panting and crying out, peering over your shoulder at him as he starts to pound into you. 

It’s a sight that makes you clench around him, your ass bouncing back against his hips, the muscles in his forearms, his biceps, tensing from the effort. 

You feel your mind going hazy but a sharp smack to your thigh catches your attention and you realize there’s nowhere for you to run as Joel curves over you.

“Uh uh, it’s not gonna be that easy. You wanted to be a brat so bad, now I’m gonna fuck you like one.”

The hand that had been on your hip smoothes up your back, gripping the back of your neck with a firm squeeze before letting his full weight drive his hips down hard. 

Your teeth bite at his covers, loud pleas and moans barely muffled as he finds that spot, the one that always makes tears well in your eyes. 

Joel relishes in how your body trembles when he keeps himself angled there, watching you choke out apologies and pleas for more all in the same breath, his handprints bound to leave bruises on your skin from the way he’s holding you.

He knows you’re already sensitive, and your body already spent from keeping yourself upright through his thrusts, ones that still weren’t faltering, but he also knew you liked that it hurt so good too. 

“Joel, please I’m gonna-” you begin to sob, feeling the pressure in your core deepen only for it to dissipate as you’re eased off his length a minute later. 

You let your body sink, collapsing onto your tummy with a defeated cry, turning around to face the man who so rudely denied you an orgasm, whatever valid reasonings he had be damned. 

Stepping out of his boots and jeans fully now, you open up to him completely, no longer shy about wanting this so bad, encouraged by how much he seemed to be having fun too, more arousal dripping from your swollen folds at the intensity, the security in knowing he’d take care of you. 

You’d pissed him off with all your sass but you knew he’d never push you past your limits and it’s why you give in so easily now. 

Coherent thoughts fade from your head when Joel finally pulls you down towards the edge of the bed by your ankles and moves between your legs to guide himself back inside you easily, rough hands shoving your thighs back towards your chest so he can split you open and watch as he does. 

Any sense of time or day melts away, your only focus being Joel, only able to feel him, what he’s doing to you, whimpering out curses and moans as he bounces you on his cock, thick fingers reaching down to find your clit. 

The bliss and the pressure build again, making everything hazy once more, eyes fluttering with each thrust now cause you’re too fucked out to concentrate on anything but how good he feels. 

But Joel is watching, studying the pretty faces and sounds you make, one of his hands quick to find its way into your hair again, grabbing a fistful and pulling firmly and slowly, tilting your head up so you can’t do anything but look at him.  

“No, no you focus, right here. Right here, darlin.” he grits out and clinging to his forearms is all you can do to keep yourself steady. 

His other hand leaves your clit to grip at your jaw for a moment, strong legs spearing his hips into you over and over all the while, the wet gush of your pussy taking everything he gives you makes heat settle in your cheeks and spread across your chest. 

Wrecked moans are swallowed by messy kisses, the prickly stubble of his beard against your neck driving you crazy. 

Everything about him makes you clench, your thighs threatening to tighten around his waist the more he gives you. 

But you wanted him to be mean and he hadn’t forgotten, delivering a few searing smacks across your inner thighs, a warning that told you to be good and keep them spread. 

“That’s it, now she’s learning ain’t she. Just needed me to fuck those disrespectful thoughts out of your head, huh.” 

“Yes, yes, fuck yes! Need it so bad!” your wanton cries make his teeth clench while your toes point and curl. 

Everything in you burns molten, succumbing to Joel’s coarser treatment, his fingers, his lips, his cock knowing all your sensitive points and playing to them expertly. 

There’s no reprieve, no break in how soundly he fucks you, the bedframe creaking noisily from the movement, both of you sweaty and breathless but loathe to stop, so much desire washing over you at the frenzied passion in the eyes of the only man that could touch you like this. 

It was everything you had been daydreaming and craving, sobbing into your palm by the time Joel finally let you have what you wanted. 

You came hard, the pleasure drawn out for so long the climax of it shattered you, leaving you feeling soft and weightless against the mattress as he chases his own release, finding it swiftly after you. 

-

It’s much later that you’re tucked against him, a dreamy and well satisfied tilt to your lips as you sink into his touch, those deadly, brilliant hands of his caressing soft circles into your skin, against the places he knows he gripped with force tonight. 

He checks in with you now and then, making sure the comedown doesn’t hit you too hard, only soft words and praise for you now, a few sweet kisses left along your shoulder as you drift in and out of sleep together, exhausted and content beyond words. 

In the quiet of his room you giggle that you swear you’ll never be such a brat to him again but even you can’t deny that if this was what the consequences were, you just might have to talk back to him more often. 

Joel knows it too, gleaming eyes narrowing as he warns that your wicked little mouth is next in line for a lesson if you so dared. 

Oh..well maybe you’d be catching an attitude again much sooner than you thought. 

---

A/N: Eeep it is here! This one took me some time to write just cause I feel like I get in my head about writing Joel correctly a lot of the time and with this including rougher sex it was a little bit of a struggle to write at times but I like how it turned out in the end and I hope this was steamy and fun and hot and that it feels real to the character too! Thank you so much for reading!

Let me know what you think, pls thirst with me!

some tags, no pressure! @eupheme @wyn-n-tonic @ozarkthedog @moreofem @fagen @black-fairy3 @persona-enthusiast @fluffyprettykitty @earlgreychiffon @tarrenterror25 @federalchickensoup @jolly-polly @inklore @babiiface95 @targaryenvampireslayer @chezamanda @simplykenni @allaboardthereadingrailroad

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the best crabs the bay area has to offer!

pairing: ex-husband leon x reader

cw: asshole leon, oral sex, mention of STIs, mention of degradation, leon's literally so gross and awful

summary: you and leon take the kids on vacation. leon fucks around per usual and you both find out why maryland is famous for crabs

a/n: sorry

wc: 3.8k

You and Leon got divorced years ago, citing ‘irreconcilable differences’ which meant his alcohol intake and workaholic tendencies got in the way of having a functioning marriage, but he begged you for joint custody. If the courts knew the truth, they’d give you full custody. In hindsight, you were angry with yourself for letting him guilt you into that arrangement—one week at yours, the next at his. You both lived in the same school district, so it wasn’t a problem in that regard. 

You’d just picked up the kids from Leon’s when they began to dish out gossip by their own volition. The little loud mouths got their loose lips from their father. 

Leon had a new “girlfriend” if you could call a woman under 25 the girlfriend of a man in his 40s. 

Your son, the older of your two children, was going on and on about some “Tara”.

“Who’s Tara?” You asked.

“Dad’s girlfriend,” he said 

“Not babysitter ‘Tara’?” 

Better not be, you thought.

“She used to be our babysitter,” he said, making you want to bang your head against the steering wheel.

Seriously, Leon? 

“She’s a whore,” your daughter said. You almost crashed the car.

“Excuse me? Where did you hear that?”

“Dad.” You should’ve known.

“Don’t say that word again, it’s not a nice thing to say about someone.”

“Then why did dad say it to Tara?”

“When did he say it to Tara?”

“I heard him in his bedroom and he said it.”

Jesus Christ, you thought, I guess that’s better than him verbally abusing a woman, especially in front of his kids.

“Okay, I’ll have a talk with him about his language.”

And you did. You texted him later that night.

You: Keep it down in the bedroom.

Leon:?

You: Your daughter just told me you called your girlfriend a ‘whore’. Very classy, Leon.

Leon: mad that I have a sex life?

You: Quit acting like a teenager. I could not care less about your sex life so long as you keep it away from my daughter.

Leon: u mean our daughter?

You: For now. You better learn to grow up if you want to keep it that way.

Leon: is that a threat? or is it menopause talking?”

You: Act your age not your girlfriend’s age.

Leon sent an eye-rolling emoji and that was the end of your chat.

You ended up sipping a margarita next to Leon at a tacky beach bar. He was still so damn persuasive even post-divorce. 

“How’s Tara?” you asked after the alcohol had given you a bit of a buzz. 

“I wouldn’t know,” he said, nonchalantly.

“Left you for a man her own age?”

“Funny. I broke it off, actually.”

“Why? Was she getting too old? Got her first period and you couldn’t handle it?”

“Ha ha. She wanted to get serious, and I don’t need that kind of stress in my life right now. My blood pressure is high enough.”

“You’re just hooking up with women shamelessly? With your kids around?”

“I’m not just ���hooking up’. At least, not when I have the kids.”

“Mommy!” your daughter called. 

“Hold this,” you said, handing your drink to Leon, “I trust you won’t spike it.”

“Won’t need to, sweetheart,” he said with a wink. 

You covered your hand from your kids to flip him off as you walked out onto the sand to look at the shells your daughter had found you. 

Leon took a good look at your ass in your swimsuit. 

“Damn, mama’s still got it,” he said to himself. 

A younger, blonder woman came over to talk to him. The prey stalked the predator, how unusual. 

“Sitting all alone?” she said in that voice. 

“At the moment,” he said, “My ex wife’s out there.” he pointed to you playing with the kids. 

“Ex?”

“Correct.”

“Are those your kids?”

“Uh-huh. The only good things she gave me.”

Though she was pretty good at giving head too, he thought. He began to miss it. 

When you walked back to your seat, Leon handed you your drink, and said, “Don’t worry, babe. I kept it safe for you.”

“Don’t ‘babe’, me,” you say sitting down.

“Why not? I thought you liked that.”

“When we were married. But, I don’t want my ex-husband calling me pet names.”

“‘Kay, babe.” You looked over to tell him off and he winked at you.

“I hate you,” you said. 

“No you don’t,” Leon said, walking off to God knows where.

You spied Leon snaking his arm around a pretty girl’s waist at the bar. The bartender ID’d her, though Leon got out his credit card, so you knew he was paying. He flashed his platinum American Express like Patrick Bateman and a part of you thought about how gross and pathetic he was for hitting on college-aged chicks as a middle-aged man, but the other part of you remembered that you didn’t get ID’d at the bar, and you began to search up plastic surgeons in your area.

He brought new Tara, who was actually named Kelly, over to your shared seating area. This new girl and the last were ostensibly the same – too young for him, great body, bimbo-ish.

You couldn’t hate her. She was sweet girl. Lacking in brain cells, but sweet. Leon left the two of you alone for a moment. He seemed torn between saying something euphemistic and polite to her and something more vulgar to you.

He settled on, “Uh, I’ve gotta go see a man about a horse.”

Kelly seemed to think it was funny, but it might just be the way he smiled when he walked away. You weren’t drunk enough to think he looked like anything other than a complete dumbass.

“Is he always this cute?”

“No, he’s on his best behavior right now.” Because you told him to be (and yet his best behavior was still a bit sleazy).

You figured Leon might be up to some other shenanigans because you didn’t see him for quite some time. Your kids came and went, showing you the things they found on the beach. They seemed to be unphased by this random woman you were sitting with – granted, she was good with kids. Maybe she’s a babysitter, too, you thought. It made you wonder how many girls Leon was bringing home while your kids were with him.

“You’re such a great mom,” Kelly told you. 

“Thank you. That’s really nice of you to say.” You were genuinely flattered. It was hard being the strict parent, a role you were forced to take on when you decided to procreate with Leon S. Kennedy.

“I hope one day I’ll be as good as you are.” You wanted to tell her that she could be, but not with Leon as a father. Not because you were possessive, but because Leon was a dickhead. You were pretty sure you caught him grabbing another woman’s ass while he was away on his errands, which turned out to include playing Keno. You were pleased to know he was being responsible with his salary.

“Hey, ladies,” Leon walked up from behind and stood between your chairs, “how’s it goin’?”

“Better before you got here,” you said. 

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he said, all pouty. He walked around to Kelly and whispered—loudly enough for you to hear - “hey, sexy,” and he kissed her on the cheek. She giggled, girlish. Ew. 

Leon spent a couple of days hanging out with new girl- no wonder he needed you to come on vacation with him and the kids. It was almost like having three kids, except Leon was shamelessly fucking the oldest of the three. Not in the condo you rented, of course. It didn’t matter that he was the breadwinner, he knew that you would’ve made a fuss about it in front of the kids. You probably would’ve called him a whore. Rightfully so. He was a whore.

You tried to forget about his antics and focus on the fact that your kids were happy. You spent your days walking along the boardwalk, playing skeeball at the arcade, sitting in a damp swimsuit at a local pizza chain, wiping ice cream off your kids mouths and washing sand off their feet. While Leon did whatever he pleased, as usual. This included getting a t-shirt that said “99 problems but a beach ain’t one” as well as a henna tattoo that matched Kelly’s.

The number one perk of your vacation was that it reminded you why you and Leon got divorced in the first place- Leon, his pathetic, dickish behavior. It made you forget all those nights you spent missing him. Your vibrator could never do what Leon could.

The only problem was: your vacation was scheduled for two weeks, but you only had one at that condo, the second was spent at another. You should’ve known by now that you needed to book your beach rentals earlier in the season, or else you’d have to scavenge for a place with even one week available.

The first place had three rooms, so you and Leon could sleep in separate beds. The second only had two, which meant you were stuck with a roommate for the remainder of your vacation. You had secretly hoped that he would spend more time with Kelly, maybe even cozy up to some of her sorority sisters and get himself a bed at their place. But alas, Kelly’s spring break was only one week, so she had to return to school before your vacation was up.

You didn’t doubt Leon’s ability to find another girl, especially when this beach town was swimming with doppelgangers. For whatever reason, he stopped flirting with other women. You expected him to be slutting himself out to every waitress at Seacrets, aka the bay’s tackiest bar. Maybe he really liked this girl, you thought. That would be laughable.

On your first night in the new place, you put your kids to bed and retired to your room with Leon.

“Think you can handle sleeping in the same bed with me for a week?” he said.

“I did it for years. I think I can do a week.”

“But that was when we used to make sweet, passionate love and fall asleep in each other’s arms,” he said dramatically. 

“Yeah, well, too bad you and Tara are over because I bet she’d give you that.”

“Mm,” he hummed on his way to the bathroom, “could never do it like you, though.”

You must’ve misheard him, right?

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” he poked his head out of the bathroom door to meet your eyes and his expression, while mischievous, gave way to something genuine. 

You laughed it off, but had to hide the fact that he had you flustered. 

After a moment, you approached the bathroom door, which was cracked.

“Can I get in and brush my teeth?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said with a mouthful of toothpaste.

You opened the door and shared the sink with him. Even in the white light over the bathroom mirror with toothpaste on his lips, Leon looked sexy as ever. That was the one thing that never changed about him. You met his eyes in the mirror and he winked at you. Goddammit. 

When he finished brushing, he slid past you to walk back into the bedroom, placing his hand on the small of your back. It was the smallest gesture. It could even be polite, he was just squeezing past you. It was normal. But it wasn’t. It was Leon, and he could read you like a book. He was playing the same game he always had and he was winning. 

When you walked back into the room, he openly ogled you from the bed. 

“Shirtless? Really?” you asked him, a facade of displeasure across your face. 

“It’s hot as hell.” He shrugged. “Especially with you in here,” he said much lower. 

“God, you’re so cheesy,” you said, while looking through your suitcase for pj’s. 

“You love it, though.”

“I do not.”

“Do too.”

You did, in fact, love it. Leon only had two modi operandi: he was either cheesy as hell or a total douchebag. When you put those two together, most would see it as charming. He was the kind of guy you’d want to take home, but not to a wedding chapel. He tricked you—and himself—into marriage with phenomenal sex. If that’s all there was to life, you’d still be married. 

“Leon, I lost my pajamas.” Either you left them at the last place, which was entirely possible considering you were so caught up in corralling the kids and shoving their stuff into their tiny suitcases. Or, Leon stole them. You doubted the second one because none of your panties seemed to be missing. You knew him to be a panty thief and you doubted that he’d reformed since your divorce.

He knew you were asking to borrow clothes, but he said, “Oh? Gonna go for the panties-only look tonight then? I don’t have a problem with it.” Oh, maybe he was the pajama thief all along. Maybe he was letting you choose what pair of panties he’d get to see you wear.

“I was going to ask to borrow a t-shirt.”

“Maybe you should’ve been nicer to me.” He clicked his tongue and gave you a smug smile. 

“Are you really going to be like that?”

You knew he was being a dick, but he’d give in if you really wanted it that badly. And yet, you let him continue to try to rope you into sleeping with him. He hadn’t asked for that yet, hadn’t even really hinted at it, but that’s what he always wanted, despite being in his 40s. You’d think a man’s sex drive would’ve gone down by then. 

“We could make a deal,” he offered.

“What’s the deal?” You crossed your arms. 

“Clothes off, then we’ll talk.”

You gave him a look, pretending to be pissed, but you got down to your underwear.

“Goddamn,” he said. 

“What?” you asked, covering up a bit. The thong you wore wasn’t exciting, just a thin cotton piece of fabric in a solid color.

“I’m regretting that divorce. You look even sexier than I remember.”

“Shut up. You want me because I’m the best option you have. I’m the only woman in the room and all you know how to do is think with your dick.”

“That’s harsh. You know it’s not true, though, babe. I’d choose you over any other woman.”

“You would not.”

“I wouldn’t? Didn’t you hear me say that no one ever does it like you?”

“You said one girl doesn’t do it like me.”

“I meant all of them.” He lifted your chin. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever married. Don’t you think that says something?”

You scoffed. “So it wasn’t about love? I was just the best sex you’ve ever had?”

“It was both. The sex was great, though, you can admit it.”

He was already pulling you into bed and you were letting him. It would be less embarrassing if you were more drunk. You had two drinks. Hours ago. You were both dead fucking sober. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered into your ear. 

“Fine. If you promise not to tell, then I’ll admit it. You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“Really? No one better in all these years?”

“Nope.”

“You must think highly of me, then. I’m flattered, really, but who knows if I’d live up to those expectations.”

“Memories, not expectations.”

“Old memories. Maybe I’m not as good as I used to be… or maybe I’m better.”

“Are you trying to proposition me?”

“I’m not trying. I am.”

“I shouldn’t,” you said.

“Why not? This is probably the most wholesome sexual opportunity you’ve had in years. It’s romantic, really. We’re parents, taking the kids on vacation. It’s not like you’re some random chick from the bar. You’re the woman I married, the mother of my kids, the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“I’m the only woman you’ve ever loved?”

“Yeah,” he said as if it should’ve been obvious. 

“You swear?”

“On my life,” he said, looking you in the eyes. 

“If I do this with you, you’re not going to make fun of me, or… I don’t know. You know how I am, I just don’t want you to be so flippant about it.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. How ‘bout we don’t have sex? How ‘bout I show you how I feel about you?”

You knew what he meant and you knew what he could do with his mouth. 

“How do you feel about me?” You asked. 

He cupped your cheek and leaned in close. “May I?”

“Mhm,” you nodded and he kissed you. It was sweet. It wasn’t dirty at all, at first. It was tender, almost loving. 

“Lie down,” he said in between kisses, “Get comfortable.”

And you obliged. Why would you refuse a man going down on you? He kissed you from your mouth down to your stomach, stopping to play with your tits, sucking on each of them. 

“They’re so perfect,” he mumbled. 

He pressed a kiss to each one before he makes his way downward. He tugged off your panties with his teeth and began kissing your thighs. 

“Would you give me the honor -” he started. 

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh. You pushed his head forward, urging him to get on with it.

He did as you asked and buried his face between your thighs. He has gotten better at this, you thought. You remembered a clean-shaven man who now had a five o’clock shadow. It tickled your inner thighs as his tongue ran over your folds. He sucked on your clit with meticulous reverence. 

You threw your head back and put your hands in his hair. It spurred him on further. He was the only man you’d ever known who understood the meaning of ‘don’t stop’. 

“Leon,” you moaned and he hummed in response, not taking his mouth away. “I’m so close,” you said. 

You could see his smile by the look in his eyes while his lips were occupied. His fingers curled against your g-spot and he pressed a hand on your abdomen to heighten the sensation. All the while, his tongue tended to your clit. Your orgasm hit you and you had to cover your mouth to hold back your moans. Leon didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and he’d licked up every drop you’d given him. 

He finally came up for air and you were still catching your breath. 

“Jesus Christ,” you said when he lied down next to you. 

He laughed, looking a bit proud of himself. 

“Do you want me to-?”

“Only if you want to, babe,” he said with a kiss on your forehead. 

“I wasn’t going to because I wanted to see if you could be selfless for once, but god, Leon, after that, I’d feel bad for not paying back the favor.”

“Hey, I’ll gladly accept, but you know I enjoyed myself quite a bit already. I wouldn’t call it selfless.” Yeah, that’s right: Leon was truly unable to be selfless, but at least you knew he genuinely enjoys going down on you. 

“I can tell,” you whispered, palming his hard cock. You could feel a wet spot forming already. 

“All for you,” he said.

“Why thank you,” you said as you dipped your head under the covers. 

You didn’t play the same teasing game Leon did. You made quick work of his underwear and got your mouth on his dick as quickly as you could. 

“God, I was so right,” he said, “Nobody does it like you. Not even close.” He groaned when you cup his balls. You could tell he was getting close already, so you took him as deep as you could. He had to bite his knuckles to hold back moans. 

He only took his fingers away from his mouth to warn you, panting, “Gonna come.”

You appreciated the warning, but as usual, you kept going, letting him come down your throat. Spitters are quitters.

You emerged from the covers to see his dazed expression. He smiled stupidly at you, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” you said. 

“Still want that shirt?”

“I think your arms should be warm enough.”

“I think so too,” he said as he pulled you into a hug.

You laughed and covered your face. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I can’t believe I just did that. I fucking hate you, and you still got me in bed with you.”

“Maybe you don’t hate me that much, then.”

“No, I hate you even more because you’re so damn charming. And sexy. And cheesy.” Maybe that orgasm was a truth serum.

“Well, I don’t hate you,” he said.

“I’m shocked.”

“I thought I showed you how much I love you a minute ago. Do you need a little reminder?”

“I think I need a big reminder.”

“That’s my girl.”

That big reminder turned out to be a big mistake. You found that out the hard way when you and Leon spent the next morning at urgent care. Hindsight is 20/20, they say. You thought your foresight was pretty good, but the gas-station sunglasses, caked in sunscreen messed with your vision. Or maybe it was the margaritas.

“They say Maryland is the best place to get crabs, don’t they?” Leon joked with the nurse, who only seemed mildly amused.

“What does that mean? We didn’t get crabs,” your daughter said loudly on your trek back to the waiting room.

“You didn’t get crabs, honey,” Leon said.

“I thought crabs was an STD,” your son said. Luckily, he’d waited until you got into the car, saving you some of the shame.

“Where’d you learn that?”

“Mason told me his mom got it.”

“Which one is Mason’s mom?” Leon asked. “Is she the one with the fake tits?”

“I dunno.”

“Wasn’t it Mason’s birthday last weekend?” you asked in an effort to change the subject.

“Yep,” Leon said, having his own revelation, “that was a great party.”

When you returned to your home away from home, you put on a movie for the kids so you could distract them while you spoke to Leon.

“We need to have a talk,” you said sternly.

“Whoa, what’s got you all crabby now?”

You pulled him by the arm into the kitchen.

“You had a fun time with Mason’s mom at that party, Leon?” You asked, one hand on the counter, the other on the island, caging him in, so he couldn’t walk away with a cute quip.

“I may have, yeah.”

You stood there, using all your mental fortitude not to slap him – not when your kids were close enough to see it. You hoped your ice-cold gaze would be enough to scare him.

“Hey, listen,” he said, gently placing his hand on your arm, “once that fancy cream we got kicks in, I’ll give you a really nice apology.”

“I would love to hear the words ‘I’m sorry’ come out of your mouth for once.”

“How ‘bout I try to spell it with my tongue?”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Yes, you did.

[euno11a]

Tattooed Hearts VII

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities

Pt I • Pt II • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V • Pt VI • Pt VIII *** God, she was meant to be a quick fuck and leave. Why couldn’t I get her out of my mind? I need her…

It was stupid of me to get drunk, and even stupider that I went to her apartment. She didn’t want me there, but she looked so cute in her pjs, I couldn’t help staying. I wasn’t so drunk that I couldn’t move, how’d you think I got there? It was a good excuse, even if she didn’t know it, to get her to touch me again. Her touch was intoxicating, something my body craved, yearned for, but I fucked it up. Ever heard the saying ‘drunk words are sober thoughts?’ “M’missed you…you looked s-so good in that long thing you were wearing in the flower home…”; “Baby, I know what I’m saying…miss you…miss your pussy…miss your love…”; “So pretty…su..such a good girl…my baby…” Even if some thought are more vulgar than others, they’re still true. Showing up drunk probably proved her point of how reckless and selfish I am, but you don’t know how much I miss you. I couldn’t get you out of my head, your curves, your eyes, your laugh…I need you beside me.

Playing limp body was fun, I got to hold her leg, cuddle up to her and even kiss her a little. So I have to pretend to be drunk all the time? No, no, bad idea! You’re trying to prove to her that you need her and only her. It was supposed to be a romantic gesture of some kind, but it failed…miserably. What happened to me? Every time I see her now, talking with Eloise, laughing with V, something burns inside of me. It’s an emptiness that I can’t explain, eating me from the inside out. Using other women to try and fill the hole was a shitty idea, especially since she found me with one. I think I get somewhere with her, but then I fuck it up again. She kicked me out of her apartment, “Stop coming to me when you’re high.” That one sentence haunting my mind, making me lose sleep at night. I fucked it up so bad, I need to earn her trust again, I can’t breathe without her. She doesn’t know the things she does to me, making me spend hours in my office, fucking my hand imagining it was her. My blood boils every time I see her with V, she laughs at his jokes, he gave her juice. He gave her the juice I bought for her, waiting for her to come back! Of course I had to lie to the others, saying I mixed up the flavours, no way I was telling them about the girl I was pinning over that I was also waiting for to return. God, I was whipped…

You were hard to find. I had to dig through the fucking system at work to figure out how to contact you. I swear, I wasn’t trying to be a creep, I just knew you wouldn’t willingly give me your number! And I doubt Lindsay would give it to me either. You sounded so sweet over the phone…your voice was like honey, something I’d be willing to drown in if it came from you. Yeah, you hung up on me, but I got to talk to you for a little! I’d call that a win. Another win was when you took the bouquet…I knew you’d like them. You always told me how you loved secret stories behind things, even if I could T give them to you, I’m glad Eloise could. Building that bouquet was hard! I wanted to take all the flowers you liked, but that wasn’t allowed. If I had a dime for the amount of times Eloise slapped my hand and told me to express my emotions through the flowers instead of pick what was prettiest, I’d be a millionaire. All those flowers that were strategically placed to tell you a story were working. After work, I’d come in to ask Eloise if you’d stopped by, gladly listening to her as she told me about your sweet smile and laugh, the way your nose scrunched up when you found a new flower and wanted to know what it signified. All of this will be worth it in the long run. Seeing you at the bar alone, sipping your rum and coke made me smile. The drink you ordered the first time we met. Sitting down, I expected you to leave or to tell me to leave. But you didn’t. Sure, you put up a fight, telling me to spit out what I wanted, so you could be alone and drink in peace but I wasn’t expecting you to listen. “I want you,” it just slipped out. But it sent shockwaves through me when you spoke “If you want me…like genuinely want me, you have to beg for it.” I had never been one for begging, but if that’s what it takes to have you in my life, I will beg for hours and hours, days, weeks, months. I need you in my life.

Taglist: @talyaaas-blog @cassies-cookies @junecat18@jk97bam @bluewarmsunshine @diame93 @bangtans-momma @lil0u0 @borahoe @peterstarkchrishiddleston @telepathytae @apobangpo444 @gimeow @taekritimin123 @butterymin @skzthinker @someone-1997 @kookswifesblog @jjk-1999 @bulubulubulublabla @xo79 @thesmutconnoisseur @nikkinik485 @coldcoffee2121 @jjk97091 @onlybunss @kopiosuam @nanmolla @peachtown @kopiosuam

[kafka-ish]

part 1

Patrick asks Art if he got the stuff and how much to which Art replies: yea just an 8th tho and Patrick replies Dude wtf

No dude. You never told me your dealer was hot!!!

Don’t bother. Asked if she’d trade head for half. Wouldn’t budge. Strict business or whatever.

Two seconds later: Still. I’d tap that.

Art decides against telling him about the sample he got. Sticks the joint you rolled in his desk drawer. Does weed have an expiration date? he wonders. He drops by Patrick’s who asks how the deal went. If you gave him a discount for it being his first time and all.

“How much’d she charge?” Patrick wonders aloud, comparing prices in his head, secretly hoping his friend got ripped off.

It takes Art awhile to settle on a number. He still doesn’t know the price of weed. “Like fifty?”

“For an eighth?” Patrick laughs at this like okay this chick is insane and Art realizes he said the wrong thing.

“She said it was the good stuff.” Art shrugs, trying to play it off.

“Whatever man, but you need to learn how to negotiate… So we gonna smoke this shit or what?”

Art begins to make appearances more frequently. But he has to be calculated with how he goes about this. Doesn’t want to seem desperate, hooked on fucking weed. How pathetic. He has to pace himself. At first his visits are periodic. Comes by a few times a month for his regular pick up. But he can’t get enough. Sporadic turns into every other week and every other week turns into Friday nights after his games or if not a tournament, practice. He’s at your door with takeout in hand. Something different every time; he keeps you on your feet and you like the surprise. Tacos, Thai, Lo Mien. Indian when he wins his matches.

You don’t smoke with him at first when he asks, though; you have a rule about smoking up with clients.

“Oh,” he says, feeling defeated. Disappointed that’s how you think of him.

“You still want that eighth?” you ask.

“Um, no. Actually I think I’m gonna go.”

“Art,” you say and the sound of your voice calling his name has him frozen in place. His hand is still on the knob for a moment before it drops, falls by his side. He wipes it on his pants, a habit he has. "Don't do this."

"What? Change my mind?"

"No--"

"You're not trying to peer pressure me, are you?" You wonder if Art's being serious right now. If he's using your methodology of paying tuition and groceries against you. It's your turn to freeze.

"Fine then. Leave. But just so you know I wasn't the one hitting up strangers for weed." You're calm when you say this, only making it harder for Art to reach for the door once more.

Of course, he comes crawling back. Ends up blowing up your phone.

Art: Hey

Art: I'm sorry for what i said the other day. I wasn't thinking. Obviously. It just hurt when u called me a customer. Which i guess i technically am. I dont kno.

Art: I think ur really cool

Art: I guess i just wanted to smoke with someone other than patrick

Art: Did i mention i think ur really cool

You roll your eyes at the thread of messages, how they still come in and your phone can't stop vibrating; you're not finished reading but it keeps pinging. Still, you're smiling. Can't help but read his texts over and over again before responding and you feel a heat on your cheeks when you haven't even lit up.

You text him the same thing when he always texts you after one of his games: My place 9?

"You think I'm cool, huh?" You nudge Art, sitting next to you on the couch. His legs are crossed, facing yours.

Art blushes at the question, the pressure you put him under. Finally musters up the courage to say, “yeah. Really cool.” Then leans in, does that thing that guys do where they grab your jaw, almost caresses it, then brings you in to kiss your lips. It’s soft. Gentle. Thinks he might hurt you if he’s not careful. And he doesn’t linger long but you can taste his chapstick. Mint. You miss him already when his lips leave yours and your tongue sweeps over where flesh once was, itching for another taste.

He sees this. Locks his lips on yours again. Instinct. It's just as quick and sweet as the first one. You feel him grin when his mouth meshes with yours and the sensation of his smile pressing into your cheeks gets you all giddy-like.

“So does that mean you’ll smoke with me?” His smile doesn’t leave when you pull away. And you see his eyebrows are raised while his eyes are blue and bright. A dash of hope shimmers in them and you can see your reflection in them.

“Yeah,” you say, hushed, almost a whisper as if you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. You’re breaking your rules for him, is what Art’s thinking. And you tell yourself it’s just a one time exception but when he comes over next Friday you find yourself rolling a joint and passing it to him in between kisses.

And now it’s your routine.

He doesn’t need to text you asking for an eighth and you don’t need to tell him what time and place. He just shows up after practice. Of course, you expect him.

“I hope I didn’t get you addicted.”

“Nah.” Art’s lean frame is already hanging on the doorway and he doesn’t come inside immediately when you welcome him in. Instead, he takes you in his arms. They feel stronger each time. Plants a big wet kiss on your lips. And he is addicted. Just not what you think.

[muldermuse]

this is kind of a ramble so bear with me:

thinking about sending two sinners!gator into an absolute tailspin when he shows up to your house to see everything in boxes and your clothes packed up in a few suitcases by the door

he’s like ????? WHAT IS GOING ON WHERE ARE YOU GOING???? and just casually saying “skipping town” and going to kiss him and he’s like ??????

i can only imagine the catharsis of telling him that “there’s nothing in fargo for me, most of the town hates me and the ones who don’t just wanna fuck me, you’re probably gonna marry glenda which will only make everyone hate me even more if they find out i’m the other woman. So I want to live somewhere else. I’m not happy here.” and he obv freaks out

and maybe you’re just going to stay at a friends house while your place gets painted, but maybe leaving was on your mind (it’s easier to sell a house with fresh paint👀), and maybe you wanted to see how serious he was about coming with you…but none of that is any of his business…

i’m usually not an angst girlie but i’m on my period and it’s probably a safer bet to be melodramatic and pick a fight with a fictional man than one i actually know 😭😭

ok this ask made me feral, i felt so ANGSTY writing it

thank u so much for sending it through angel <3

18+ only!! Angst below the cut!! Gator is mean and reader is maybe meaner. They're both terrible people. He calls her a whore, she calls him a lot of mean names. Mentions of smut but no actual smut.

Maybe, this is super far in the future for the two sinners fic or maybe it is not canon. who knows!!! not me!!!

You’re not sure how he found out. You’ve quietly handed your notice in at work and said goodbye to the few in this shitty town you care about. Jenson, Jax and Steve have been ghosted (but you know that they’d all come back with a simple ‘you up?’ text). You weren’t going to tell Gator you were leaving- he didn’t deserve a goodbye. You’d planned to go for 3 months as your place was going to get renovated in that time (you’d been saving up for years to make it more of a home). So, you thought that the months away would be an opportunity to become a new person. A better person. Someone who didn’t fuck pathetic Sheriffs. If anyone looked in; they’d think you were going forever. You’d decided that as soon as you left, you’d block Gator and when (or if) you returned, you’d avoid him like the plague.

The U-HAUL parked in your drive probably gave it away. Or when Glenda saw you filling up your truck and made a snide comment about what you were doing. Or maybe it was when you fucked him 2 days ago he made a passing comment about how empty your home looked. Since then, the entire hall area is covered in boxes filled with your possessions. You try not to let it depress you that your whole life has been packed up in a matter of days. You need a fresh start, you’re moving in with a friend a few towns over and you can be whoever you want to be for a few months. No one there has to know that you’ve been fucking a loser in a relationship for the best part of 2 years. You know it’s him as soon as he knocks on the door, no one knocks as loud as him and other people wait to be invited in. Gator lets himself in as you’re checking your backpack one final time.

“The fuck is all this shit?” He kicks a box that’s in his way and you’re thankful you don’t hear a shatter. “Saw the U-Haul and uh- Glenda saw you fillin’ up. Plannin’ a trip or somethin’?”. He tries to sound unbothered but you know him better than that.

You don’t look at him when you tell him, “Yeah, I’m leaving”. You tell yourself that it’s because you’re checking your backpack but really it’s because you can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins and you’re trying to compose yourself before you lose your shit.

“The fuck did you jus’ fuckin’ say?”

“Sorry, I’ll say it slower because you’re a fuckin’ idiot. I am leaving”. You draw out the last three words and stare at him. You can hear your heart thumping in your ears as you try to read the expression on his face. It’s a mix of anger, confusion, and sadness. A soft kiss his pressed to his cheek as you walk into the dining room to check your toiletries box. That’s the only pleasantry you’ll exchange with him today- or maybe ever again.

His boots stomp behind you as he follows you in. “Well, where are you goin’?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m there, Gator. Now you can fuck off back to Glenda and play fuckin’ happy families for the rest of your life”.

“Well- why are you leavin’? You’ve never mentioned this before”. His voice breaks as he speaks, either a sign he’s getting choked up or he’s getting really angry.

You can feel the anger rattling in your chest and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears becomes overwhelming. “Why am I going? Gator, everyone in this town fuckin’ hates me or thinks that I’m a total whore because of your fuckin’ bitch of a girlfriend. Who- by the way, you’re goin’ to marry because you’re too fuckin’ chickenshit to upset your crazy daddy…” You slam your hands on the table and take a quick breath, “Gator- I fuckin’ hate it here, I’m miserable and I can’t do it any longer- it’s killin’ me”.

He’s stood opposite you and fuck, does he look mad. He doesn’t move for a minute but then shoves your boxes off the table and kicks them when they hit the floor. After a few seconds, he kicks them again with more force and slams his hands on the table.

“Yeah, real fuckin’ mature Gator, breaking my shit beca-“

“What about this? What about us?” His voice is more muted than you’ve ever heard it. His breath is shuddering gasps. You’re unsure why it enrages you.

You laugh cruelly, “What us? What the fuck are you talking about? Gator, you have a fuckin’ girlfriend who you’re going to marry.”

“Yeah but when has that stopped you- huh? You can’t put this all on me. You’re jus’ as bad as me.”

He moves to stand in front of you. The energy in the room is charged, usually, when it feels like this between the pair of you, it would end in some angry sex where you’re both trying to dominate the other person but you both know that isn’t going to happen today. 

“You’re movin’ away to be a fuckin’ whore somewhere else... or because you’re jealous of Glenda. She gets all of me and you jus’ get the fuckin’ scraps”. His smile is wicked and his eyes look darker than you’ve ever seen them.

You take a step closer to him, “I couldn’t think of anything fucking worse than havin’ all of you. You’re a pathetic fuckin’ daddy’s boy who’s never won anythin’ in his life”. You get close enough to whisper in his ear, “you’re a fuckin’ loser, Gator.”

You hate how much you want to fuck him in this moment and by the red bloom that’s creeping up his neck; you know he feels the same.

He leaves your home silently. He kicks another box on his way out and you finally hear a shatter. His tyres spin as his car races off your front lawn. 

You should block his number and know that that is the end of this awful affair. 

But you both know that it isn’t.

[prince-liest]

I know you’ve gotten asks already talking about how happy they are that you’re going more in depth on the subject of Vox being trans in your next installment, but I can’t help myself… I’m so excited that you’re writing about that. It can be difficult to find trans rep in fandom spaces sometimes and your stories are so well written that this is like a gift from god. SO ANYWAY I’m super happy and your works are amazing and I just hope you know how many people value your works for all that they give.

Secondly, I was wondering whether or not Vox would have been trans on earth or just in hell? I mean I’m sure it would be difficult considering the time period but I also couldn’t think of a reason why he would be cis on earth but trans in hell. UNLESS he realized he was trans in hell/was finally able to do something about it?? Anyway, all of this is just speculation, I am only curious!!

Regardless, great work. It genuinely means a lot to me, if no one else :)

Oh, man, I'm ngl, one of my little, "Wait! I can do anything I want!!!!" moments of going mad with power once I got more and more experience at writing was realizing that I could just trans anyone's gender at-will and I didn't need anyone's permission for that. I still remember the first time I quietly decided an OC of mine was trans (love you, Laledy, you obnoxious asshole). I'm always a little apprehensive to start writing trans characters in new fandoms, mostly because I've been in a number of fandoms that have corners that get very tetchy about their weird gender role stuff, but it's consistently been met with such a positive reaction that it really brings me joy. So thank you so very, very much!!

My personal take on Vox in 666 specifically (a lot of which isn't going to come up because he does not want to get into it) is that he wasn't personally really in a position or environment conducive to considering trans-ness as, like, a thing that happens when he was alive, and he put his all into putting on The Correct Gender Performance with the vim and aplomb that we see from him in canon, plus all the underlying bullshit that goes into maintaining that facade. So, y'know. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, minus the Jewish. Which did not do amazing things for his mental health, not that he let himself pay attention to that at the time!

And then he wakes up, in hell, with this weird-ass demon body with a television for a head, and - well, it just makes sense to present as a man at that point, doesn't it? Hell is dog-eat-dog, and he's not going to pick the submissive gender to put himself on the back foot from the start!

He figures out what the fuck being trans even is eventually, just. Not for a while, and not until after someone like Valentino, having known and assumed that Vox is trans as a given for fucking months, mentions it offhandedly to Vox, who had been mentally describing himself as "just lying about his sex like those girls in stories that get shit done by dressing up as men". Then he gets to have his own little spiral about it, and also why it's upsetting him, and why he felt so vulnerable about Valentino knowing, and why Valentino specifically, Mr. Fishnets, Heels, and Microminis, is the one that ended up in a position not only to know this about Vox but for Vox to feel comfortable having any kind of sex with. It wasn't something Vox had to analyze back when it was just "her" freaky boyfriend being into pegging!

Okay, fuck, I have even more feelings about trans Vox than I thought I did, hahahaha.

Might fuck around and write a staticmoth-centric prequel interlude at some point if I have the brain cells for it. Vox is a lot more confident and comfortable with his gender now, to the point where he can absolutely see fucking around in a dress for kinky reasons as crossdressing and not being forced back into a box that doesn't fit, but it'd be neat to explore the earlier days. Val isn't here for gender, he's here to be sexy, but Vox... this IS the origin of the daddy kink, just saying.

[clownprincehoeshi]

Parallel Hearts - Chapter 4

Synopsis: Never in your wildest dreams you imagined that you’ll meet your ult bias. Maybe you finally have your shot at love and happiness. Or not.

Genre: for all chapters- Fluff, Smut, Angst

Pairing: fem reader x idol Jungkook fem reader x idol Mingyu fem reader x idol Hoshi

Warnings: Kissing-Nudity-Sex 18+-Harrassment-Stalking-Death mentions-Cheating

Word count: 6401

Don't know how this chapter got so long. By my calculations, all chapters combined will go somehwere between 40k and 50k. Depends how much the plot thickens. Happy reading!

Previous chapter - Next chapter

Masterlist

This is a feeling you know too well. You’ve been here before and you hate it. You hate how all you think about it’s him, how you can barely sleep or eat, how you cry so much. You hate you’re so far from home and you can’t have your besties to keep you company and give you warm hugs. They know you the best.

Of course Hana has become your good friend, but can’t compare a friendship of 15 years with one of 1 year. Though, you feel you can trust her, you were always lucky with picking your friend. Apparently, you’re not as good at picking men.

Hana has been sleeping at your place since the breakup, 3 weeks ago. She’s going to be visiting her parents in Busan this weekend though, and you’re afraid you might have nightmares again. It’s something that happens whenever you’re really sad.

But you’re making progress. You can finally eat almost normally, you went back to the gym, but you can’t yet listen to music. You feel like music reminds you of him and you are not ready yet for it. Sleep is still a problem for you, as you need to know that someone is there for you, in your house. Breakups have always left a hole in your heart, a loneliness you can’t express. So you need company. You feel like a lost puppy.

You told Hana that you’ll feel extra lonely this weekend since she’s not going to be there and she said not to worry, because she’ll send one of your friends to keep you company. She didn’t say who, she said she wasn’t sure which one will be in town and have some free time.

So you waited all day on Saturday for your mystery friend to arrive. You even baked and bought some of that good meat to grill later, as a sign of gratitude. You hear knocking on the door and you go to open it.

Y/N: Mingyyyuuu!

You are so happy to see him, that you jump right at him for a tight hug.

Mingyu: I had no idea you missed me so much.

You invite him in and you feel relieved that it’s him and not someone else. The only downside is that he reminds you of him, as they are such close friends. He’s hoping to find out more from you, and maybe get you to open up. He wants to be there for you and help you get over this dark period you’re having.

Y/N: Tell me what you need. I even got meat and we can cook. You’re thirsty, hungry?

Mingyu: I feel like we could use some drinks before anything.

Y/N: Yesss, please!

You get some soju out and you try to not abuse alcohol right now, you tend to speak too much when you’re drunk. And you get to become too direct and honest. You both sit on the couch that’s facing your big living room windows, revealing the city.

Y/N: Maaan, I love to sit here for hours and look out the window. But I hate that winters here are cold as fuck. And I’m not sure yet if I like snow or if I hate it.

After some time of silence from Mingyu, and a couple of glasses, he finally got the courage to say something.

Mingyu: Y/N?

Y/N: Hmm?

Mingyu: I want you to know that I had no idea he didn’t tell you he will leave now. Even if I knew, I don’t think it was my place to let you know. And I hate that he acted like this and that he hurt you. I tried to talk to him about it and he just blew off, saying some stupid shit.

Y/N: What he did say? Because all he said to me was that he was sorry, on the day he enlisted. That was some lousy text. I blocked him after that.

Mingyu: He said “Why aren’t you happy now? You can finally have her”.

Y/N: What a stupid thing to say to his best friend. Where did that come from, why is he acting jealous since he never gave a shit about me?

Mingyu: Well I think he was always jealous, just not letting it show. Thing is this kind of affected our friendship. I mean, I was the first person to tell him to go for you, to confess. And for him to act like I was trying to make a move on you was pretty shitty.

Y/N: So let him believe that. Hope he can’t sleep well at night, thinking his ex and his bestie are fucking.

Mingyu: Whoaah, language!

He looks at you and asks how many glasses you had. You lift 4 fingers but you say two.

Mingyu: That’s it, no more soju for you, princess!

Y/N: I’m not a princess, look how I dress. Like a homeless dude.

He comes to hug you, patting your head.

Mingyu: You’re my homeless dude, then. Now let me be your chef for today, I’ll make you something really delicious.

And you let him cook. Not that you’re lazy, but you’re a little drunk and you don’t want to mess up. You’re feeling too good now, and you put some music on. You think some D’Angelo fits with today. You even forget you we’re not able to listen any music since the breakup.

Alcohol takes away your shyness and it’s like you’re another person, but you just think it brings the real you, fun, funny, silly, bright, friendly and chatty. Mingyu just giggles every time you’re like this, because he says it makes him happy when you’re happy.

He wonders if it’s a mistake that he came to keep you company today. And while he was having that thought and also moving around your kitchen, he felt you body brushing his. He froze and looked at you. You were just minding your business, looking for plates to set the table. The space between your counters and the kitchen island was not very generous, bot in your drunken state, you didn’t realize that.

He kept looking at you and felt his cheeks heating up. As your body brushed his, your hand also brushed his abs. It sent electric shocks through his body. He always had a thing for you, we can call it a crush. He gave up on you, as you were into his friend, so he kept these feelings closed. But what just happened now, woke a tiny little thought in his mind. What if…?

A voice brought him back to reality and a pair of big bright eyes looking up at him. Damn, you looked adorable.

Y/N: Gyyyyuuu! How many times do I have to call for you? You’re ghosting me right in my face.

Mingyu: Sorry, what does my princess want?

You look at him angrily and mumble something only for you to hear. Sheesh, such a tall and handsome dummy.

Y/N: Nevermind!

Food is ready, he made the grill and rice and you made salad. He knew that if you eat and drink lots of water, the alcohol will not have such a strong effect on you, and he was right. But he kept on drinking, he has a big tolerance. After dinner, you both took a shower. Separately. You went to you bedroom and he took the couch. Was a pretty big couch, he felt comfortable.

It was easy for you to drift to sleep after all that alcohol and food. And after that hot shower. But in the middle of the night you woke up scared and sweaty after a bad dream. Someone or something was chasing you in your dream.

You remembered Mingyu was there and you got out of bed to go check if he was maybe awake, to…talk to you, make you forget about the nightmare and the stupid mood it put you in. But he was sleeping. You got down on your knees, close to him and waited a little. In your sleepy state you thought that maybe if you stare enough, he’ll wake up and just guess what was going on in your head.

You whispered his name slowly but nothing. You pouted and got up to go back to bed. As you were getting up, you felt a grip on your wrist. He was awake. Why didn’t he say something? He pulled you down and you lost your balance and fell right on top of him.

Mingyu: What’s wrong, princess? Came  for cuddles?

Y/N: Uuummm I had a bad dream.

Mingyu: That’s why you’re on top of me in the middle of the night?

Y/N: You pulled me.

Mingyu: Not that hard.

Y/N: I tripped.

Mingyu: On purpose?

You whined, trying to get up, but he didn’t let you.

Mingyu: Stay here now, you said you had a bad dream. I’ll protect you, that’s why I’m here.

Y/N: Gyu..we shouldn’t. This isn’t..

Mingyu: Right? Why isn’t it right? You’re a free woman now, nothing wrong with us sleeping in the same bed, or couch. You’re still thinking about that jerk?

You drop your face into his chest, feeling stupid.

Mingyu: Darling, don’t feel bad, ok? He was stupid and now he’s gone. There are so many other guys that would be sooo happy to be with you.

You tried to speak into his chest but he didn’t understand any word. He just stroked your head and told you that you can use him as a pillow, or as anything you wanted. You were quiet and you stayed there. It felt nice. Warm and fuzzy. So you fell asleep in his arms and he was a happy man that night.

You only had Mingyu sleeping at your place one more time, but Hana was there too. It was after a little get together of the 97 crew. It’s been 2 months after the breakup and you felt good now. Crying had stopped, nightmares had stopped, and you didn’t feel lonely anymore.

Also, since you and Mingyu were closer now, you started to get into his group. It was like a ray of sunshine watching them do silly stuff on their shows and interviews. Reminded you of when you first got into kpop. Mingyu was very busy lately with Seventeen, preparing for a comeback, but he never forgot to check up on you and call you every other day.

You knew Mingyu was a ladies man and that he always had flings and affairs, mostly with female idols, actresses, models or just women that were famous. He would tell you about them sometimes and ask for advice. It seemed that he would never settle thought, like he was bored right away and was looking for something, but even he didn’t know what that something was.

You were at work one day and you had a meeting with your boss and teams about a new project you will work on. You were the team’s artist, you were skilled with your hands and very talented. You used to paint with Jungkook when you were together and you hated that every time you were drawing for work it reminded you of him. At least you’re not crying now, tight? Those days are over.

So this new project was for Hybe. Ugh! Will this man hunt you forever? You had to work with Seventeen’s team for their new promotion and when you heard you were a bit excited. Ok, maybe a lot excited, because you pretty much became a fan of them. This meant that you might be ending up meeting them, or at least some of them.

For the next few weeks, each member would come to your agency and have individual or group  shootings, and you had to be there for everything. Who was your bias? You thought it was Mingyu, obviously, but other than him, don’t ask. It’s impossible when there are so many of them and all so interesting in their own way.

Today’s shooting was for Hoshi, he was he 7th member you’ll be meeting. You got a little late at the office that day, so you were running in your heels like a crazy dude, carrying all these papers and drawings. Then, the next second you were on the floor, all your shit flying every where. You look at your skirt. Kimchy all over it. Your head hurt.

Guy: Omg, I’m so sorry, I was not looking, I had my face into my bowl.

He got up to help you. You were about to unleash the fire of hell on this guy, until you saw his face.

Y/N: Oh! It’s fine, it happens. It’s my fault too, for being late and running. I’m here for your shooting, anyway, I’m in charge of the set.

Hoshi: I’m Hoshi, it’s nice meeting you and again, I am sorry. Let me gather your stuff and help you clean your skirt.

Y/N: No no no no, it’s ok, really. I always keep extra clothes in my office just in case, I’ll change.

Hoshi: I feel so bad, not sure that spot will come off, I should know.

He pouts and you think it’s the most adorable thing ever.

Y/N: Btw, I am Y/N and a friend of Mingyu.

He looked a little stunned at your words and he became very defensive.

Hoshi: Oh, you’re that Y/N. Ok, then I should go back to the shooting, they expecting me.

And like that, he just ran away, he let you stand there with your extended hand, waiting for him to shake it. What a weird guy. But why did he say it like that? “that Y/N”. You decide to ask Mingyu about this tonight.

The shoot went smoothly, Hoshi was a natural and he is very photogenic. Though he kept giving you weird looks, almost mean and you felt like you did something but had no idea what it was.

Back home that night, you text Mingyu and tell him to call you when he’s free. He calls you in 2 hours after he gets home.

Mingyu: Y/N, hey! What are you up to? Missed me?

Y/N: Of course, why not.

And you start laughing by yourself, very proud of your joke. But he doesn’t flinch.

Mingyu: Ugh, please. Since you started watching Going Seventeen you’ve gotten insane.

Y/N: Come on, it’s cute when you say it.

Mingyu: Ok, going to hang up.

Y/N: Nooo, pleaseee Gyu! I’m sorry, I’m sorryyyy!

Mingyu: I like when you beg. Go on..

Y/N: Shut up, perv! I have a curiosity. Today I met your buddy, Hoshi and he was very awkward around me after he found out who I was. He said “oh, you’re THAT Y/N”. Spill!

Mingyu: Hmm, I have no idea. I mean, some of the guys know about you, that we’re friends, but that’s it.

Y/N: Hmm, I think it’s weird and there’s something more there. Maybe you don’t know either or you don’t want to tell me. Which is fine, I will find out on my own, I’m a good detective.

Mingyu bursts laughing. You end the call 30 minutes later and you keep thinking about that encounter with Hoshi all night.

It’s time for vacation, you and Hana got a week off work because you want to attend some concert Mingyu invited you both to. Seventeen is going to perform in Thailand and you always wanted to go there, so it’s the perfect opportunity. They will have 3 concerts there and you decided to go to one only, because you needed time to do tourist shit with Hana.

You tried to bring only your best clothes and accessories, because you knew you’ll see the guys again and you wanted to make a good impression. Plus, Hana didn’t let you bring any of your homeless stuff. You were a little pouty about that, but you’ll listen to her THIS time, because it was vacay time.

You did a lot of shopping there, spent a lot of time at the beach and trying out local food. Took tons of pictures, you wanted to post on your socials so that Jungkook will see you’re happy without him too. You didn’t know how he would see, you just liked to think he will.

You always get a nice golden tan in the summer and it somehow makes you look prettier, everyone tells you that it suits you. Hana insisted that you attend soudcheck too, not just the actual concert, claiming that’s where to fun is. Oh well, you went anyway and made sure to look your best. So you got the “girls” out, wearing a deep cut top, let your long hair flow over your back.

Y/N: Wifeu, quick answer. Should I wear something to show off my legs or my ass?

Hana: Uff, hard one. How about both?

Y/N: Nahh, too slutty for a concert.

Hana: Girl, you need to get laid again in this life.

Y/N: Legs or ass?

Hana: Damn, let’s have a little meeting about this. It’s important. So we’re going to dinner with some of the guys after the concert. What’s the first thing they will notice when they see you?

Y/N: Boos, of course.

Hana: Yes. But after that? I think they will notice the legs, since you’ll be facing them.

Y/N: Ok, so legs it is.

Hana: Unless……there will be times when we will be walking, turning, moving and stuff. And there will be people behind you, and if you wear tights pants, they’ll die.

Y/N: Come ooon, make up your mind woman!

Hana: Oh, ok. Legs. I think.

So you wore a short skirt that matched you top. Your top had a tiger print, it was just a coincidence, but Hana thought you were wearing it for a certain someone.

You were in the crowd, front seats, excited to see Mingyu and give him funny looks. When the guys came up the stage, the crowd went crazy. You could understand, these boys were breathtakingly handsome and pretty. What’s the deal with this Jeonghan guy, you think. Where does he have this audacity to look so beautiful?

Well your friend Mingyu was beautiful too, you knew that, you were not blind. Everyone knew that. And he had this stupid look on his face the entire soundcheck. He kept looking at where you two were standing. He looked…pretty hot, you have to admit. Even Hana said so.

And when the wind blew over his t shirt and shorts, it kind of…made you feel something. Were you too vacation drunk? You know you get hornier when you travel, so you blamed it on that.

The concert was so fun, you danced, singed, waved at them. Some of them recognized you from the shoots they had at your agency and they waved back. You found it funny to catch Hoshi throw some looks your way, but he was not smiling or anything, just serious looks. What’s wrong with this guy?

You knew it’s going to be a process to get out of the stadium when the concert is over, it was really crowded and you were right next to the stage, so you had to wait a lot for the people in the back to get out. Because of this, you and Hana arrived at the dinner place after the guys got there.

You went to the rooftop to find Mingyu, DK, Wonwoo, Hoshi, Jeonghan, Joshua, Jun and Minghao. You needed a drink, you were too nervous. Your hands were shaking as the guys stood up to shake your hands and introduce themselves once again. They all remembered you, except DK. And of course you knew Wonwoo pretty well.

The whole night you felt eyes on you. You still didn’t shy away to eat like you like to eat and Mingyu always praises you for this, telling you that you eat well. Whatever that means. Some of the guys asked you a bunch of questions, Hoshi was the only one to not engage with you.

Jeonghan even asked if you wore that tiger print top because Hoshi was your bias. Made you blush at the remark but you said you have no bias and that you don’t want to betray your friend Mingyu by having one.

DK: I can be your bias, I’ll deal with Mingoo, don’t worry.

Jeonghan: Yeah, he’s big but he’s not dangerous.

Y/N: Hey guys, don’t be mean with my Mingoo. I know you bully him a lot.

And you pout and put your hand over Mingyu’s hand. He blushes at the touch and he pulls his hand right away, slapping yours in a playful way.

The food was delicious there and you even put a little alcohol in you, some champagne. The guys went a little crazy because it was their last concert there and the net day they would return to Seoul. You saw Hoshi had red cheeks, sign that he was drunk. After ONE glass, guys. ONE glass. But this made him a little friendlier.

It also made him clingy with his members as he kept on kissing their faces. You thought it was cute. You love men that are not afraid of showing affection to their friends. Since you also had a couple of drinks, you felt courageous enough to engage with Hoshi and maybe find out if you did something wrong, so you could fix it.

So you saw him taking some photos of the view and you walked towards him.

Y/N: Hi!

Hoshi: Hi.

Y/N: Can I ask you something?

Hoshi: I guess.

Y/N: Did I do something to you? Because I feel like you hate me or something. And maybe there is a misunderstanding. I don’t know. If I did something, I’m sorry and please let me know so I can fix it.

Hoshi: Why do you treat Mingyu like that?

Y/N: Like what?

Hoshi: Like he’s some fool that you can walk over.

Y/N: What?

He looks right into your eyes, rage inside them. You have no idea where this is coming from and you don’t know where to go from here. You just know there is a misunderstanding between you. You would be fuming right now if it were some guy and you would just walk away, but it’s Mingyu’s friend and you don’t want to start some drama.

Y/N: I assure you, I don’t treat him like that. And I can have this conversation in front of him, right now, if you’d like, so you can see that’s you’re having the wrong idea about me.

Hoshi: Hmm, yeah, I see it. The gaslighting. That’s how you do it.

And he just hisses and leaves you there. You’re dumbfounded, what was that. You’ll need to talk to Mingyu again, he will have to tell you this time. You’ll do that after you all get back to Seoul and he gets some free time in his hectic schedule.

It’s not like you care what people think of you, it doesn’t affect you. But why did Hoshi having a bad opinion about you affected you so much? He wasn’t someone close to you. Tonight, Mingyu, Eunwoo and Hana are coming to your place for dinner. You’ll be cooking for them this time.

You ate, had some shots, played some cards and when it was time for them to leave, you asked Mingyu to stay a little bit longer because you wanted to talk about something.

Mingyu: Ok, what is it?

Y/N: So your friend Hoshi hates me and I think someone told him something about me that was not true. I know you know something that you’re not telling me.

Mingyu: Y/N, there are some things that I can’t just tell you, but why he’s like that to you, I don’t know. All I can say is that me and him had some conversations about you, maybe he misunderstood something I’ve said? It’s possible.

Y/N: You ever told him anything about me and Jungkook?

Mingyu: No, nothing about him. But why do you care so much? Just let him be, not like you’re close.

Y/N: But I want your friends to like me.

Mingyu: Why?

Y/N: Just cuz. What’s it to you?

And you slap his arm hard, making him whine and calling you mean. You invited him to spend the night on your couch, since he had to drink, but he said he has a hot date and how he’s been seeing this new girl for a month. So he left, leaving you wondering even more about the things that he doesn’t tell you.

Spring has come. Your second favorite season. Your favorite is summer, because you’re a lizard that loves the heat. And you like spring because it’s finally getting warmer, the plants are coming back to life, and it’s your birthday season. It’s also Mingyu’s birthday season and he’s planning a party.

The venue is huge and it feels like the invited the whole kpop industry. He’s so popular, you think. Why didn’t you go for him, in stead of Jungkook? Really? Why? Oh, maybe because he’s kind of a…fuckboy?

You try to look like your sexiest self, but not too over the top. You remember what happened  the last time when you looked too sexy. Some guy confessed and you ended up with your heart broken. So no, this time, going easier on the sexiness, thank you.

All night, you tried to stay close to Hana, holding her hand or her dress. You didn’t know who most of those people were. Hana kept dragging you from corner to corner, because she was into a guy from a band, you can’t remember the name. You have trouble remembering names. You bumped into the other Seventeen members and greeted each other. Hoshi didn’t even look at you. Huh, what a douche.

Trying to stay sober tonight, you want to remember it, because so many celebrities were here. You saw some members of TXT, Enhypen, Le Seraffim, The Boyz, Ateez. Mingi was not there and Hana was hearbroken. You felt good close to your 97 gang, still holding Hana’s hand.

Mingyu comes to you guys and hugs all of you, thanking you that you came. He hugs you a little too long. He has a sad look on his face and you ask if something is wrong. He shaked his head, but with a pout and a sad look. You knew it was something. Then DK and Minghao come over to chat.

DK: Hey guy, what’s up? Shall we do some shots?

Mingyu: Yes, and nobody can say no.

You all do 2 rounds of shots. Then you see Minghao coming closer to you.

Minghao: How’s tonight treating you, you having fun at the party?

Y/N: Hmm, so and so. I’m not a social butterfly like Mingyu here, but at least I have my friends.

Minghao: You look gorgeous, I have to say. You have great taste.

DK: Hao, did you just tell her she tastes good? Wtf?

You and Minghao start laughing. DK could be such a clown sometimes. While you were laughing, Minghao was leaning a little towards you, touching your shoulder and Mingyu noticed that and slapped his hand off you. He made it look like it was in a funny way, but you felt that he was protective. But come on, Minghao? He’s the sweetest guy, don’t need protection from him.

The night was a success, even though Mingyu seemed to be really stressed out. But probably because he wanted all to turn out ok.

You were back at home, 3 AM, when your phones rings. It was Mingyu.

Y/N: Mingoo, birthday boy, what’s up?

Mingyu: Can I come up?

Y/N: You’re here?

Mingyu: Yeah.

Y/N: Come up.

Now you were worried. His voice seemed a bit off, different. When he enters your apartment, the first thing he does is to hug you tight and you hear him sobbing.

Y/N: Gyu, what happened?

Mingyu: She was supposed to come tonight but she just ghosted me.

Y/N: Who?

Mingyu: I was seeing a girl, Y/N. She broke up with me one my birthday, with a lousy text.

Y/N: Aww, come here.

You hugged him some more, kissing his head.

Y/N: Come on, let’s sit. You want water, food?

Mingyu: Water, please.

He gulps a whole glass of water and calms down. You had no idea he had a serious gf or that he had feeling for someone. He was always a mystery.

Y/N: Wanna talk about it?

Mingyu: Not right now. Can you cuddle me tonight, please?

He was looking so sweetly into your eyes that you couldn’t say no, it was your time to be there for him and you will do whatever he needs you to do.

You let him take a shower, made him a sandwich. You know he’s a big boy and needs to eat. Made him hot tea to help him sleep and put him into bed. You put a warm blanket over both of you and hold him close to you. Felt his breath on your neck and from time he would make out little cute noises. You could tell he was hurting.

You started stroking his hair slowly, telling him it will be ok and that you’re there for him.

Mingyu: Y/N?

Y/N: Yes, Gyu.

Mingyu: What if we…

Y/N: What

Mingyu: No, nevermind.

Y/N: I hate it when you do that. 

Mingyu: There is something I need to do.

Y/N: Ok, what is it?

Mingyu: Will you say yes?

Y/N: But I don’t know what it is.

Mingyu: Can’t you just…trust me?

Y/N: I do trust you.

Then he lifts his face from your shoulder and he is laying now on his side, facing you. He cups your face with one hand and brings his face close to yours, almost touching. Is he trying to kiss you? If he does, will you let him? He might be just drunk and will regret it tomorrow. And what about you? Do you want this? Thousand thoughts flooding your mind right now. If you’re being honest with yourself, you have thought about him that way.

You have looked at his lips one to many times and wondered how they feel like. Wondered how you’d feel under him, in his strong hands. You blamed it on the horniness and nothing else.

Your heart starts racing and when he puts his lips on your, you let him. You let him kiss you. And you like it, it feel right. But also wrong. But you know what? Get fucked, Jungkook, you deserve this. You deserve I make out with your friend.

He’s being so soft with you, so careful not to break you. Your lips open for his tongue to lick the inside of your mouth. You can feel heat raising inside you and you moan his name into his mouth. That was like a wakeupcall for him, because he stops and pulls away.

Mingyu: I’m sorry, shouldn’t have done that. I’ll go sleep on the couch.

And he leaves you in bed, alone and turned on. You were so turned on that you didn’t try to go after him, because you needed release right then and there. So you took matters into your hands, while thinking about Mingyu and what would he do to you. While you rubbed your clit slow, you imagined he was eating you out, pushing his fat fingers inside your soaked pussy. You could feel wetting the bed, you were that wet. You tried to fuck yourself with your fingers, but after a few minutes, you felt it was not enough. Damn you, Kim Mingyu! You needed him. Wanted him. You needed him to be inside you, fucking into you hard.

You got out of bed, took your clothes off and decided to go to him and just hope he won’t push you away again. If he kissed you, then he wanted this too, but he needed to know now that you wanted it also. So you went into the living room and you laid your naked self under his blanket, next to him.

He didn’t wait, he didn’t say anything, didn’t hesitate. He just took you right then. He felt like fire all over your body. His kisses so passionate, his lips all over your body. Licking your ear, your neck, whispering filthy things into your ears. His hands roaming all over you, squeezing your breasts, licking them with hunger and sucking on them. You started to pull him into you, wrapping your legs over his waist.

His cock felt so hard and big under his pants, rubbing on your naked pussy. You needed him so bad.

Mingyu: God, I’ve been wanting to have you like this since forever.

Y/N: Touch me, Gyu. Please!

Mingyu: I want to taste you so bad, baby. Want to taste your pussy and feel it cumming around my tongue.

Y/N: Fuck! Do whatever you want to me

His mouth traced lower, to your tummy, leaving open mouth kisses, to your hips and finally to your pussy. Licking your folds and feeling how wet you were for him. Teasing your poor clit that needed attention and release so bad.

Mingyu: You’re so wet for me, fuck! You’ll feel so good around my cock, princess

He started to lap at your clit fast, pushing a finger inside you. He felt you were so tight around one finger, he needed to prep you more for his cock. A second finger goes inside and you clench so hard around them.

Mingyu: Right there, baby? Gong to cum on my fingers like this?

Y/N: Yess, don’t stop. Please, Gyu!

And you came so hard that you were seeing stars. You pulled him by the shirt up to your face and tried to get him naked. You wanted to see him naked so bad, to run your hands all over his sculpted body.

Y/N: You feel so good naked, rubbing on me! I need you, Gyu

Mingyu: Tell me how you want me, baby

Y/N: I want you to fuck me hard, want you inside me. Ruin me!

Mingyu puts one hand around your throat, squeezing slow and getting tighter by the minute. Starts to kiss you hungrily. The other hand he used to hold your waist down. Then he begins to push into you and you can’t control your moans.

He thinks you sound so filthy right now and he loves it, wants to make you moan louder. Wants to know he’s making you feel that good.

Y/N: Oh god, Gyu! You feel so good, fuck! You feel so fucking big

Mingyu: You’re taking my cock so good, baby. So tight and wet for me. Wanna make you cum all night

You loved that he was so vocal and so rough but at the same time gentle.

Y/N: I feel so full. Please

Mingyu: You looks so beautiful right now. On my cock, while I split you open

Mingyu: Want me to fuck you dumb, princess? Need me to make you forget about all the other cocks you had?

Y/N: Yesss, fuck!!! I’m coming

He feels you clench around his cock so tight that he can’t stop his own orgasm,  releasing inside you deep and hard

Y/N: Shit! Fill me up, Gyu? Fill this pussy deep

You couldn’t believe what was coming out of your mouth. You felt like such a slut and you loved it. And he didn’t stop, he kept going with the thrusting. And you felt like the orgasms kept of coming. You were lucky that you could have multiple orgasms, sometimes they would not stop for minutes, and you had to take a break.

You kept on fucking for the next hour. You came multiple times and he came two more times inside you. He loved fucking his cum back into you. After this you two stopped and laid next to each other, sweaty and out of breath.

Y/N: Gyu?

Mingyu: You wanna go again?

Y/N: I want to suck you off

Mingyu: Shit, do whatever you want, baby

You went down, tracing wet spots with your tongue all over his body. He was putty under you and moaned so loud when you put his still hard cock in your mouth. You couldn’t take it all, it was too big, long and fat. You’re sure you’ll be sore for days after tonight.

Y/N: Want to cum in my mouth too, baby?

Mingyu: Fuck I want it so bad!

You keep on pumping his cock into your mouth, moving your mouth fast over his length. Moaning into his cock, sending vibrations throughout his whole body.

Mingyu: I’m going crazy here. You’re going to make me cum so hard

And he spills his seed down your throat, pulling your hair, arching his back off the bed and moaning so pretty. He looked fucking gorgeous when he came.

After you both settle down, breathing back to normal, you decide it’s time to clean up and you take a long hot shower. The sheets on the couch are ruined, so you sleep on your bed.

Y/N: Gyu?

Mingyu: Yes, princess

Y/N: What does this mean for us now? Will this ruin our friendship?

Mingyu: I have a confession. I’ve been in love with you since we met and I’ll be damned if I let you get away again. You’re finally mine now, if you want to be mine

Y/N: I do, Gyu, I do want that

You were not sure what you felt for him, but you knew he made you feel safe, he treated you good and made you cum 1000 times. Are you in love? What if his e comes back? He just cried for her a few hours ago, there must be some feelings there. You had so many questions and it was making it hard for you to know how you felt for him. Because he felt like he was surrounded by fog and you needed to fight it and make it go away with great effort. You knew he was a complicated man and you only hoped this will not break you again.

He didn’t let go of you the whole night and you thought you’ll never meet a more clingier man. In return, you showered him with kisses because he was just sweet like that.

[mariaofdoranelle]

The Courtship Deception - Part 6: Surprise

Fic masterlist

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics

IM SO EXCITED TO POST THE NEXT PART

Warnings: none?

Words: 714

Fenrys’ POV

Chaol’s face looked surprisingly welcoming when Fenrys entered his bedroom’s antechamber.

“You have news from Aelin?”

Fenrys’ eyes sparkled. Straight to the point, as he liked it. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Did she like the gifts?”

“Well…” he picked on his nails, feigning nonchalance. “Her favorite one was a Cartier bracelet.”

“Interesting.” Chaol tilted his head, curious. “I don’t remember her following Cartier on Instagram in the research I did.”

He shrugged. “This just means someone else knows her better.”

“Your point is?”

“My point is that Aelin’s confused to why you agreed to this,” Fenrys lied. His point was actually to send these boys running, but he’d only ruin his agenda by disclosing it. “You either don’t want this, or you were definitely quick to forget about Dorian,” Fenrys not-so-subtly mentioned their scandalous affair.

The man’s face turned somber. “He was quick to forget about me too, wasn’t he?

“Wow.” Fenrys leaned on the wall, carefully trying to pick up on his cues. “So Aelin’s the next best thing, or you’re just trying to get to Dorian by chasing her?”

His jaw tightened. “Are you usually this indiscreet with people like me?”

“Not with people like you, no.” Fenrys looked at Chaol up and down, unafraid. “I’m more used to royal families, I didn’t know lords were so… touchy.”

If someone questioned him, Fenrys was just doing his job—protecting Aelin. She was currently being chased, without her consent, by two boys who, from the looks of it, were willing to marry this girl they couldn’t handle for a month when she was eighteen. Idiots, both of them.

Chaol sat on an armchair, legs crossed, but those tight eyes and flat lips failed to hide his anger. “I still don’t know why you’re here.”

To scare him away, though Fenrys was failing at that miserably. He scrambled his head for a new tactic.

“I…” he trailed, trying to buy some time. “The gifts.” Fenrys cleared his throat. “Aelin liked the Cartier bracelet better. You’re losing the gift battle.”

“And?”

“You’re actually my favorite in the courtship run, you know—“

“That’s hard to believe—“

“Shh. You are,” Fenrys lied, “I’m rooting for you. That’s why I’m suggesting you a new way to get her back, since you used to date.”

Chaol leaned back on his chair, finally interested. “Do tell.”

“Aelin likes her men with balls.”

“You don’t say.”

Fenrys narrowed his eyes at him. “Not literally.”

“What do you mean, then?”

“You could prove yourself to her in a duel.”

He’d face Dorian at the duel and give up on killing the man he loves. The shame of his surrender would send him flying back to Anielle. It was perfect. Fenrys came up with it in half a second, but it was flawless.

“A duel?! Isn’t the arranged marriage outdated enough?”

“She likes period romances.” Fenrys shrugged. “It’s the fastest way to her heart.”

“Nope.” Chaol got up, paced around his room for a second with both fists on his hands. “I’m not battling against Dorian. Not like this.”

Oh, fuck. Fenrys crossed his arms, keeping a smirk to hide his struggle. Think of something, think of something, think of something—

“Who told you the Cartier bracelet was from Dorian?”

It was, but Chaol didn’t need to know this.

The man’s eyes went wide. “Rowan,” he said in a pensive tone, low with realization. He paced a little more, frowning.

“A duel, really? That’s your best guess?”

Fenrys tsked, as if this was such a naïve question. “Do you know how often she rereads that Bridgerton book with the duel scene?”

“How often?”

“Often.”

Well, she did like Bridgerton, but Fenrys knew nothing about the series or if it had duel scenes. He was sure Chaol didn’t know either.

“Very well, then.” The man swallowed, not meeting the other’s eye. “Tell Rowan I’ll see him on Thursday at 7pm.”

˜˜

“At Mala’s abandoned temple by the Florine?” Dorian asked, fiddling with his handcuffs at his own bedroom antechamber.

Fenrys gave him a curt nod, glad that he found the prince at a time no one was close to hear. “Rowan will meet you there.”

Now, it was time to tell Rowan about the two duels he had queued up.

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[eddiiiieeee]

Holding her back

Eddie Munson x reader warnings: strong language, real angsty, mentions of sexual things, no happy ending. yes, I am an evil fuck.

summary: Eddie feels like he's holding y/n back, and that's where the demise of their relationship starts

authors note: all the young adults are in high school, and so are the party members, Joyce and hopper are together, Billy isn't a pimple on anyone's ass. The upside down never happened. and yes ur dad is Pedro pascal. have fuuun

Eddie had walked into the woods before dnd started since he decided to ditch last period, noticing y/n finishing a sketch, she was sat at their spot, he couldn’t help but admire her for a bit "hey" Eddie said holding his hands as she looked at him, taking in his features before clearing her throat and looking back down at the drawing of Eddie. "you're still here, don't have a deal to tend to?" she mumbled slamming her sketchbook shut as Eddie watched her nodding "I-i wanted to talk to you. I figured I'd find you here" she hummed as she put her sketchbook in her bag and zip it up "ive gotta go, my dad could be here." she said needing to get away from him even though her lie didn’t work with the time "y/n, wait please, ive been holding this off long enough and its hurting the both of us" y/n looked at him as Eddie gazed back into her eyes "quickly" she mumbled turning a bit to face him "i think we should break up..” Eddie said as y/n gulped, her eyes filling with tears as she nodded “done then” she whispered as he voice cracked a bit, taking off the necklace he got her and placing it down on the table as she grabbed her stuff and hurried off to the front of the school, making sure she was far from Eddie so she could release the sobs she’s been holding in. Eddie put his hands in his face as he let his tears fall ‘this is what’s best for her’ he reminded himself. those two years of being together were over. all those memories and moments between the two, gone.

….

the universe seemed to hate y/n as on her walk home while sobbing her eyes out, it had begun to rain, soaking her completely as she hid her sketchbook to save it from the water. it wasn’t long that she got to her house, glad that nothing happened to her books and sketchbook as she opened the door walking in before Nick looked at her confused “kid? what happened?” he said rushing for to his daughter as she gulped, she kept her gaze on the floor, not reacting to her dads touch “we broke up” she whispered as she licked her lips “what?” Nick asked confused, Eddie was over just.a few nights ago and everything seemed fine

“he broke up with me” y/n sobbed as she held onto her stuff tightly, Nick was quick to wrap his arms around her, holding her tightly as he kissed the top of her head “i’m so sorry, i’ve got you baby girl.” he muttered as he tried to calm her down “he just left you to walk in the rain?” “no, he thought you were picking me up so” y/n wiped her eyes smudging the bit of makeup that had remained on her face “i’m gonna go take a shower” she said taking her shoes off as she put her slippers on, rushing to her bathroom as she dropped all her stuff at her desk and walked into the bathroom, undressing and getting into the shower, turning the hot water on as she stood underneath it. did Eddie fall for someone else? did he realise y/n wasn’t good enough for him? did he get bored?

y/n spent an hour of her shower just standing underneath the water and crying, letting the hot water pierce her skin, before she actually began washing her hair and body, saving as well before getting out and doing her skincare, before getting changed into one of Eddie’s shirts and a pair of shorts, moving downstairs as she dried her short hair with a towel “hey kid, you feeling better?” Nick asked as he watched her sit next to him on the couch, looking at the table and all the snacks he put out for them

“i’m not hungry” she whispered, pulling her knees up to sit underneath her chin as she sniffled “kid, you gotta eat, see i got you, pizza and sushi and noodles, and your favorite shrimps, see it’s a full buffet for the two of us” he smiled looking at her and he put some of her hair behind her ear “i’ll eat later, let’s just start the movie” She muttered grabbing the remote as she turned it on. Nick looked at her as worry sat on his face.

….

wayne had returned home to find the trailer quiet, when he took his shoes off and began walking to the bathroom, he’d noticed the dump Eddie’s room had become and when we went in to clean it up, he’d noticed that Eddie was sat on his mattress holding onto a shirt “ed’s, son what is all this mess?” Wayne asked before noticing how bloodshot Eddie’s eyes were “i broke up with her. i’m just holding her back, i hurt her, wayne. you should’ve seen how pained she was, i hurt her” Eddie said his lip pouting as he kept his gaze ahead

wayne sighed as he sat down next to his nephew, rubbing his shoulder as he hugged him tightly “come ‘ere, son” wayne whispered as Eddie hugged him tightly “she hates me now. i messed it all up” Eddie whispered as he held onto wayne tightly, he let the love of his life go. just like that.

—————

authors note: no happy ending for u little shits🤭

[tsuchinokoroyale]

Genuinely nonjudgmental ask: Does having unprotected sex ever make you nervous? Have you ever had an STI? I just opened up my relationship with my boyfriend, so I immediately got on PrEP. I still have been using condoms when I’m fucking with anyone that’s not my partner, but I’ve gotten skeptical responses from every guy when I bring up wearing them. I just want to protect myself and my bf from other STIs. I’m considering lying and saying that I’m not on PrEP just to get less pushback. Again, this is not a judgmental ask. I’ve just been out of the game for years, and it seems like the rules have changed!

There are 3 things I’ve always used to protect myself against STI’s:

1. Trust in your fellow man

2. DDF? Tested?

3. The Vibe Check

The first two are basically wet tissue paper level defense, but it’s basically the idea that someone who has the symptoms of an STD/knows they have one wouldn’t willingly go out and spread it. But some STI’s are communicable before they are detectable or symptomatic so they’re honestly weaker than wet tissue it’s more like semi-permeable membrane levels of protection.

I bank the hardest on the last one, which does employ a little bit of judgement but it’s my health so I do what I want to. I prefer to have sex with people that are selective with their partners, people that either don’t sleep around much because they have a primary partner or because they prefer fwb situations. Of note, its important that they mention that they still get tested frequently.

Most one night stands I have I’ll use protection unless they pass the vibe check so hard that my bottom instincts override my better senses and I need their DNA inside me.

Which leads me to

“The Backseat Sloppy Incident”

I had a fwb situation at one point with a friend who had recently become single. He hadn’t topped anyone since he broke up with his boyfriend, it’s been a few months, he didn’t really like hook ups, and of course he made me laugh and had a very shapely shape during sweatpants season. We hung out one night and I very coolly said “hey why aren’t we having sex with each other” and he was like “huh good point” and then we fixed that.

And then it suddenly started to burn when he peed.

We both freaked out and got tested. It was Gonorrhea. We both got our shots in the butt, or really he got two shots in his butt and I got ONE MASSIVE SHOT THAT HURT LIKE ALL HELL and when that was done I was back to taking his loads like I was a laundry machine.

But there was still the question of: How did he get it ?

See I tested negative for gonorrhea. I had em swab everything and test for everything but only he came back positive. I was completely clean.

We puzzled over this many a time because the only time he did anything was when he picked up a Tinder date from the train station who gave him head in the backseat of his car as thanks. He’d told me this had happened as well, to which I said “Damn instead of saying thank you I’m just gonna start giving backseat sloppy from now on”

But that had happened like a month prior. STIs can have a rather lengthy incubation period but a month is pretty long. And I won’t have any character assassination of this boy, I trust him with my life and he honestly still owns this hole if he didn’t live so far away but anyways the point is you truly just never know.

I haven’t had an STI as of yet, but I’m sure that’s mostly just luck. I’ve put myself in seedy situations and come out clean, and the closest I’ve come to catching an STI was a situation where I thought for sure it wouldn’t be an issue. Keep watch over your body, take ya meds, get tested frequently, and always use a condom unless you’re either 100% sure you don’t need one or you’re ready to reckon with any consequences that come your way. Anyone that gets pissy about you using condoms is being a brat who doesn’t respect your health boundaries. And what do we say to sleeping with people who don’t respect your boundaries?

🙅‍♂️🙅‍♂️🙅‍♂️

[euno11a]

Tattooed Hearts VI

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities

Pt I • Pt II • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V *** “Please, god, leave me alone!” You shouted at Jungkook for what seemed to be for the hundredth time. “No, no! I want you to tell me! What did you mean when you mentioned ‘the other woman?’ What woman are you talking about? And why the hell do you care?” He yelled back, chasing after you down the sidewalk, people were definitely looking and probably judging. “Why can’t you drop it, Jungkook?! I was tired and I rambled, something you’re used to!” Yelling at him the other day when you weren’t thinking straight was definitely the wrong choice. Look at you now! You’re literally running away from him. “Because it’s not every day you hear the girl you slept with yell at you for sleeping with another woman!” You stopped, making him almost run into you. You grabbed him by the arm and pulled him aside, a deathly glare on your face. “Keep your damn voice down. I don’t need the whole of Main Street knowing we slept together, which might I add was a huge mistake!” Jungkook scoffed, leaning in close, “You begged for it, night after night. Not my fault you were drunk on my dick.” He spat back, not knowing how childish both of you were being. You groaned, wanting to strangle him right then and there. “Listen, I was sleep deprived and running off of coffee. I spoke out of line, so just forget it.” You walked off, being stopped when he grabbed your waist, pulling you in close. “Knowing you, you wouldn’t mention something if it wasn’t on your mind. So would you just fucking tell me what ‘other woman’ you’re talking about?” Jungkook kept a tight grip on your waist, not letting you budge. You sighed, feeling defeated you reluctantly told him. “The woman you fuck in the tattoo parlour. The one I walked in on you fucking in the break room. That woman.” He froze, tilting his head a little “Are you serious? God, you’re jealous of Cathy, Y/N? Holy crap, get a grip! And when the hell did you walk in on us?” His grip on you loosened, allowing you to pull away from him. “None of your business. Anyways, now you know, so please leave me the hell alone!” You began walking away again. Leaving Jungkook standing dumbfounded beside some bookstore. You got a mere five feet away before you were being grabbed again, “She’s not my girlfriend.” *** It had been three days since Jungkook told you that. But why had he told you that? Did he feel obligated to do so? Did he pity you? So many questions that would never be answered. Your phone rang, an unknown number appearing on the screen. You: Hello? Unkwn : Hey, I didn’t think you’d pick up. You: I’m sorry, what? I don’t even know you. Unkwn: Y/N, come on, I’m not that unforgettable. You paused, thinking for a moment…holy fucking Christ! You: Jungkook, how the hell do you have my number? JK: I’ve got my ways, I’m magic in other ways too, you know. You: I never thought you were magic before. JK: That’s a lie and you know it, the amount of time I’ve made you cum with my magical fin- You: Okay! Jesus, what do you want? JK: I want to talk, duh. You: Lies. Bye then. JK: No! Wait! Don’t hang up…please… You: Why shouldn’t I? JK: Because I want to talk to you. You: Well I don’t want to talk to you, so goodbye. You hung up the phone, throwing it beside you. What the hell was happening now? Why did he want to talk with you all of a sudden? You looked over to the bouquet that was still sitting on your counter, noticing something you hadn’t before. Signs of purple were poking out from the corners of the bouquet, making you stand up to see them closer. Taking out your phone, you took a picture of it, grabbing your jacket and running out your door. Hopefully Ms Eloise was in shop today. *** ”That would be a betony, darling. It symbolizes surprise…why do you ask?” Ms Eloise asked, handing you your phone back. You took your phone back, swallowing a lump in your throat, “I just noticed it in the bouquet…and it’s odd, the flowers somehow remind me of something…but I can’t figure out what.”

Ms Eloise smiled, grabbing your hand, “It’s okay to think about him, sweetheart. It’s understandable that you would.” She thought you were thinking of Jungkook…no, she knew you were thinking of him. Oh my god, you were thinking of him! After chatting for a while, you walked out of the flower shop, slowly making your way down Main Street, to your favourite bar. You sat down in a small booth, sipping your rum and coke. Dazed, you didn’t notice Jungkook who’d shown up a few minutes earlier. “You know, it’s rude to hang up on people.” He said as he sat across from you in the booth. Looking you up and down, seemingly checking you out. You made eye contact with him, bitterly laughing, “It’s also rude getting someone’s number without them knowing and then calling them randomly.” Your comment made him chuckle, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers. Those fingers that had been in you once…stop it! “I wasn’t trying to be rude, I just wanted to say hi.” “You never want to ‘just say hi.’ So what do you want, Jungkook? I’d rather you just spit it out so I don’t have to play guessing games with you. Also so I can preferably drink alone.” “I want you.” The comment made you choke on your sip of rum and coke, coughing into your elbow. You looked at him bewildered, “Excuse me?!” “Come on, Y/N, you heard what I said. I want you.” He said it again! And so nonchalantly as well. “Uh, no.” “Why not?” “Because I said so.” “That’s not an answer, Y/N.”

“Yes it is.” He scoffs, leaning back in the booth, staring at you. His tongue prods at the inside of his cheek, was it just you or did the room just get extremely hot? He leaned forward, lowering his voice so only you could hear him. “Listen, I don’t know what the hell happened between us, all I know is that I can’t get you off of my damn mind. I can’t think or sleep, I can only think of you.” “…you should become a poet.” Why was that the only damn thing you said?! How stupid are you??? “Why should I even let you try to pursue me? You walk around fucking everything and anything that gets your dick wet. I can’t fucking trust you.” “I know, I know you can’t. What can I do to prove that I actually want you? That you’re not just a fuck and leave?” He sounded desperate…sincere almost. You thought for a moment, taking a sip of your drink, placing it down on the table. “If you want me…like genuinely want me, you have to beg for it.” He looked at you, dead in the eyes, nothing about him seemed in a joking manner. “I’ll beg as much as you want me to, baby. As long as I get you in return.” Taglist: @talyaaas-blog @cassies-cookies

@junecat18 @jk97bam @bluewarmsunshine