#and for being so encouraging during the whole process

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: hope y’all like CHEESE, reader wears glasses

part two |

let’s go, don’t wait masterlist

a/n: this is incredibly self indulgent and lame but i hope y’all enjoy xx.

“You’re staring… again.”

Nancy says under her breath, which has your eyes immediately darting away and back down toward your lunch out of sheer embarrassment.

“I was not staring….” you hiss, picking at the pile of peas on your tray.

“Oh, you soooo were,” she laughs, knocking her shoulder into yours. “Why don’t you just go and talk to him?”

You let out an exasperated breath before glancing over at your best friend. She’s giving you that soft yet encouraging gaze that’s entirely Nancy.

“Why would someone like him be interested in someone like me?”

Your voice is softer, but that underlying fear bleeds through nonetheless.

“I’m just so….” you trail off, chewing on your lower lip. “Boring.”

Your eyes have drifted back over to the hellfire table, where they seem to find themselves almost every lunch period now. Totally entranced by the male sitting at the end of the table.

Eddie Munson, dungeon master and local metalhead. Also the guy you’ve been harboring the biggest crush on since your junior year.

He looks even more pretty with the afternoon sunlight shining through the windows of the cafeteria, highlighting the warm chestnut hue of his fluffy curls. His lips are poised in an annoyed pout, fingers drumming on the table in rapid succession while he listens to Dustin’s nervous ramblings.

“He’s just so— outgoing and doesn’t give two shits what these dipshits around here think of him.”

Your lips can’t help but quirk up into a small smile when you witness him tossing a pretzel at Mike’s head.

“You are not boring,” Nancy sighs, her curls bouncing when she shakes her head in distain. “But you’re not gonna know if something could work out between you if you don’t at least try.”

Your snort has her rolling her eyes, but yours are still transfixed on the boy in question. So much so you haven’t noticed the way your glasses continue to slip down the bridge of your nose.

“I doubt he even knows my name, Nance.”

When your eyes suddenly catch his chocolatey brown ones, you feel mortified. You’ve been very careful about your… admiring during lunch or in between classes. But Nancy had momentarily distracted you, and now you’d been caught red handed.

Unbeknownst to you, this isn’t the first time he’s noticed your wandering gaze. Soft eyes that are filled with the utmost longing and kindness. Someone with a reputation such as Eddie Munson doesn’t have looks like that thrown his way very often.

So it’s no surprise he’s caught on.

But you don’t seem to notice the way he always glances back once you look away, dark eyes seeking out your figure in the halls. The longing of his own for you to finally meet his gaze. But your nose is either stuck in a book or those pretty eyes are trained on your feet.

It was maddening.

You quickly break his curious stare and jump to your feet, missing the way he shoots up from his own seat. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and leave your tray abandoned.

“I gotta go… I’ll see you later, Nance,” you say before she even has time to protest, keeping your head down as you make your way toward the exit.

Mentally still kicking yourself for being caught gawking at him like a bumbling idiot. But your heart leaps into your throat when you hear the slapping of sneakers on the linoleum behind you.

Before you can even process what’s happening you all but collide into a denim clad chest, gasping softly when his arms slip around your waist to catch you before you almost stumble backwards onto your ass.

“Whoa, easy there,” he chuckles, those same pouty lips quirking up into a lopsided grin. “Didn’t mean to scare ya…”

When he releases you, your whole body deflates— already missing the warmth of his palms. Even if it was only for a fleeting moment.

“Uh… sorry, did you need something?” you ask, unable to hide the confusion in your tone.

He purses his lips, twisting his rings on his fingers in almost a nervous manner.

Why would he be nervous?

“I just had a question is all…” he mumbles, “and honestly, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now.”

And your heart nearly stops when he carefully pushes your glasses back up the bridge of your nose.

“You free tonight?”

[zriasstuff]

Them watching you get ready <3

Slytherin boys x reader fluff headcanons (warning:delulu asf)

the collage isn’t the best, but at least you have all 6 faces now

It’s date-night, but you seem to be taking quite some time to get ready…

Tom Riddle:

Let’s be honest for a second and admit that if you were taking your sweet sweet time, he’d curse at you because everything has to go according to his schedule (i even doubt that he’d do the whole “date-night” thing, but that’s a separate issue)

He’d turn more impatient by the second and barge into your dorm/bathroom without knocking

Tom would rush you so badly and keep telling you to hurry up while rolling his eyes

While you’re doing your makeup he’d pick up each product with disgust and tell you that you look just fine

When you tell him that you need more time, he tells you that there wouldn’t be a date anymore if you didn’t follow him, besides he’d lecture you on your poor time management

Eventually he drags you out with him and dryly compliments you like “see, i told you you look good” (but innerly he enjoyed that you put in effort and wanted to look good for him, even if it took some time)

Mattheo Riddle:

He wouldn’t rush you when you tell him you need more time, instead he’d take advantage of watching you get ready

When you choose your clothes, he’d encourage you to do a little fashion show for him and he would tell you that you looked perfect in every single one

He would tell you to choose a short and tight dress though, we all know why ;)

During make-up he is totally one of those guys who say “it’s all the same shade”, and in reality it’s like maroon and bright red

As a joke he’d also apply some of the products, but wipe them off immediately because he feels too emasculated

When you ask him if you could do make-up on him some day he’d simply reply “sure, but then i would get to do whatever i want with you”

Draco Malfoy:

When you offer him to watch you get ready, since you still aren’t done, he immediately accepts

Draco totally loves seeing you get ready too because during your relationship he has spoiled you so much that half your closet/vanity is basically from him

Since he grew up close to his mother, he has actually spent a lot of time in his childhood going to barbers/salons/boutiques with her

So from that he has gained excellent taste, even helps you with styling your hair, and helps you pick out accessories

He knows how long this stuff can take, so he just takes the time to make you feel beautiful and confident, showering you with compliments and pecks “you look so good in the things i buy you darling”/“you are always so gorgeous and sexy”

Theodore Nott:

He wouldn’t mind that you were not on time, the date started the second he saw you, so you getting ready was just time that you could spend together too

You are afraid it takes away the surprise factor at first, but it’s not a big deal to him

When you start to change into different outfits, he’s always there to help you undress/unzip the dresses, taking the opportunity to smoothly move his hands down your body

That would just eventually turn into a makeout session though, you just couldn’t resist when he was being that touchy and ravishing too

It takes quite some time for you to actually get ready in the end because he always distracts you in the process, but in the end you would both have had a fun time

Blaise Zabini:

He’d be quite chill and sit on your bed when you tell him to wait, just watching you get ready at your vanity

He would maybe be a little bit annoying—asking you every three seconds if you were ready to go, and he would say “you literally look the same as always, what’s the point of all this”

Eventually he liked watching you more and more though, notice the difference, and carefully pay attention to everything you did

He’d learn to appreciate both your natural and “full-glam” beauty and just observe you with interest

As soon as you were done he’d immediately kiss you (ruining your lip-combo sadly) and his lips would be stained, and he’d be smiling, fascinated by your beauty

Lorenzo Berkshire:

When you tell him to wait outside, he’d respect that at first, but would grow impatient eventually

So, he goes up to you and tells you that he would like to be a part of the process

Opposite to Mattheo, he’d actually be down to you putting make-up on his face for fun (he’s fully convinced that he could pull anyone with or without makeup)

To be honest, he didn’t care much about what you put on because you looked hot in his eyes either way, but he knew the more interested he acted the more appreciative you’d be

Looking at you with puppy-eyes at all times is his specialty, and when you’re finally done he looks at you like you’re an angel fallen from heaven

[multifandomimagin3s]

Reader sits on their face and breaks their neck - 141, Los Vaqueros + König

requested by @daniel-meyer-03 contains sexual content (obvs), minors dni

Simon “Ghost” Riley

He always encourages you to put your whole weight onto his face - doesn't matter what size you are, he loves being smothered by your thighs.

His tongue is lapping your wetness like a man starved, when he mis-times his movements completely, feeling his neck go 'pop.'

He halts his movements with a grunt, head falling flat against the mattress; you raise yourself back off his face so sit at his side, as his hand comes up to cradle the back of his neck.

"Ah shit, that doesn't feel good."

He'd be pissy in the ambulance, purely because he wasn't allowed to put his balaclava on before he left and he's not happy about the Paramedics seeing his face.

Since he's legally dead, I reckon Price would have to pull some strings to get him seen in a private hospital to try and keep things hush hush.

He would be a grumpy guy when he has to wear one of those neck supports for the next few weeks," I look like a twat."

Isn't annoyed at you in the slightest - in fact it's quite the opposite, you had to tell him 'no' more than once when he suggested you sit on his face again, neck brace be damned.

"Would be a hell of a way to die, Love."

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

This would probably one of many sex-related injuries he's had in the past.

Pulled his hamstring and a few muscles in his back one night when you two were really going at it.

Slipped during shower sex and almost took you to the ground with him.

Has banged his head off the headboard during missionary more times than you can count.

So it's fair to say that considering he's in the SAS, he's really accident prone.

Would wear the neck brace with pride, wouldn’t care if the team took the piss out of him for it - and for how he got injured in the process.

Even when his neck was in agony, he couldn't stop smiling.

"Considering how this happened in the first place, cannae really complain, Darlin'."

If he felt any awkwardness he didn't show it - even in the Emergency Department, he wasn't shy when he was asked how he hurt himself, which made you flush bright red each time.

Would probably act like a big baby when he'd given medical leave.

Being able to just be with you, cuddling and spending time together, was amazing - and he'd been given 6 weeks off, so he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Oh, and like Ghost, he absolutely wouldn't be deterred by the experience in the slightest.

But is maybe a bit more mindful to put a pillow under his neck the next time he asks you to sit on his face.

Captain John Price

I reckon his neck is probably fucked already - like the muscles in his neck get so tight that sometimes he struggles to turn his head.

It's the norm for him.

But when he feels a sudden pop sensation just above his nape, he knows that something isn't right.

Probably would have encouraged you to continue riding his face if it wasn't for the intense pain shooting up his neck.

Would refuse to go to the hospital - "I've had worse on the field, Love, I'll be fine."

It wasn't until you pushed him into going for an x-ray that he realised he'd actually injured himself.

Wouldn't tell a soul what happened - not even the Doctors.

His private life stays just that - private.

Would grumble like an old man when he has to put the supportive collar on; "I look like a bloody dog when it's had its knackers cut off..."

Also wouldn't be annoyed at you at all - in fact, he promises that as soon as he's given the all clear to stop wearing "this bloody thing" he wants you back on his face.

Captains orders ~

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Mans is just confused as fuck.

One minute you're riding his face, his hands on your ass guiding your movements.

The next he's in agony - and then in an ambulance.

It isn't until a Doctor reviews his x-rays with him that he finally clicks on to what happened.

You rode his face...and broke his neck.

The realisation has him breaking into a fit of laughter - which mildly concerns the clinical staff.

He's in the military, risks his life on the regular - and the worst injury he's gained so far is from oral.

He's honestly nearly pissing himself from laughter, which makes you laugh too.

The neck brace doesn't even bother him one bit - the medical leave is a bonus in his eyes because he gets to spend more quality time with you.

Doesn't tell the Team how it happened - but Soap put the pieces together in his head, and is clapping Gaz on the back with booming laughter at the realisation.

"Fuckin' hell mate, that's one way tae do it!"

Alejandro Vargas

Like Soap, he's a bit too happy considering the situation he's in.

He's a passionate man, so getting an injury during sex doesn't bother him at all.

Usually he's very co-ordinated and he definitely knows what he's doing in the bedroom.

So fuck knows how he managed to practically break his neck whilst you were riding his face.

One wrong jerky move of his head and the next - searing pain.

Also is a grumpy guy when he's wearing the neck brace.

Would definitely play on it a bit, giving you the big brown puppy dog eyes so you'd give him more cuddles and affection; "Mi Amor, it hurts less when you're by my side ~"

Definitely would still try and initiate sex despite being told to take it easy.

Would happily let you ride him on the couch - his typical positions weren't on the cards but any angle he gets of your amazing body brings him bliss.

Gets the brace off...and probably injures himself again because he was a bit too eager to finish what he started.

Rudy Parra

Like his comrade, he's also a very passionate lover.

Apparently, a bit too passionate.

Which is why he was currently sat on your couch, arms crossed over his chest with a slightly annoyed expression.

He's not annoyed at you - he's annoyed that he didn't get to finish what he started.

Rudy was having the time of his life, smothered between your thighs, and he probably would've kept going had it not been you that hurriedly hopped off his face when he let out a pained groan.

Would probably try and convince you to let him continue where you left off.

But the hospital staff would probably be less impressed if he ended up back in the Emergency Department because he hurt himself further.

So he waits...impatiently.

As soon as the Doctor gives him the all clear, he practically dives between your legs.

He has to make up for lost time ;)

König

The poor guy is mortified - he’s not angry at you, not one bit, but that trip to the hospital is one that he’ll never forget.

Doesn’t like social situations, or hospitals for that matter, so being in a busy A&E department really was making him feel gradually worse by the minute.

That and he still had a bit of a *ahem* problem since your activities got interrupted.

Wearing a neck brace wouldn't bother him too much - as long as he can still wear his hood, he's happy.

Speaking of which, imagine the poor doctors trying to persuade him to take it off so they can examine his neck.

Thankfully he doesn't have to go on-base wearing the support - he'd probably die of embarrassment if Horangi found out what exactly happened, because then the entire base would find out no doubt.

Somehow, his comrade finds out anyways, and texts his friend some thumbs up emojis; "Way to go, big guy, best way to end up in the ER ;)"

After he gets the brace off and has to take it easy for a bit he'd be a bit sad since having you sitting on his face is his all time favourite position :(

Still, he improvises - and when he has your knees pressed to your chest and his mouth is writing the alphabet between your thighs, you would never complain ~

[xmy-love-to-youx]

Pregnancy /w Simon 'Ghost' Riley

When you told your husband that you were expecting a baby, even with his mask on you could see the color drain from his face.

To anyone that knows him, knows that his most of the time silent but this silence between you both was something new. You couldn't tell if he was happy or not.

As time passed by, anxiety and fear gripped your heart and tears threatened to fall from your eyes. Children were a topic you haven't talked about yet, Simon made it clear he doesn't want children but you two never considered pregnancy a possibility even though you are on birth control.

You rushed to the bedroom, leaving Simon alone in the living room. He was silent, his mind was silent. The only sound that was heard was your muffled crying from the bedroom.

It wasn't long until he made his way to you, the sight of you curled up under the blankets, crying, broke his heart in a way he never knew was possible. He layed himself behind you and held you tightly against him.

He didn't know how to comfort you so he stayed silent and just held your petite body against his rough and larger body.

From that moment on, he stuck to your side. Still processing that you are carrying his baby, he would just stare at your belly. His battling internally with himself. One part wants to run away and the other is telling him to stay and fulfill his duties not just as a husband but as a soon to be father too.

With each month that passes by, he watches your belly expand and it's slowly became clear to him that the baby is a symbol of your love. He was first awkward about touching your pregnant belly.

"Can I?" he asks, his hands glued to the side of his body.

"Yes" you responded with your usual bright smile.

He hesitated and his eyes bounced around the room. You reached for his hand and placed his hand on the curve of your belly and just like that, he instantly fell in love.

Now he talks to his unborn child and gently pokes around just to get the baby to move, a chuckle leaves his lips when he sees the baby push against the inside.

"I can't wait to meet you"

"You know you and your mother are the best things that ever happened to me"

"You have a badass mother, you know that?"

"I'm going to protect you"

His the kind of guy who doesn't want to know the gender until the baby is born. He definitely spends every second with you during the pregnancy. Soap will definitely tease him for it but he doesn't care. His in love with his wife and his unborn baby and wants to be there all the time.

He definitely stops you from being on your feet for too long. He'll gently rush you out of the kitchen and into a chair. He will massage your feet and back without question.

Towards the end of the pregnancy, he was in pain, it's not physically pain. He's heart breaks when you are uncomfortable all the time, the back pains and the intense hormones.

When it was time to give birth, he was panicking more than his wife that's about to birth a tiny human. His with you every step of the way until it came time to push out the baby.

He held your hand and whispered words of encouragement to you, he thought he had everything under control until he peeked and saw his baby wiggling thier way out of you. His eyes widened with shock and he looked at you with those eyes. That's when he realized that your in more pain that it seems.

He snapped to reality when he heard his baby cry for the first time. It was like he spaced out as realization kicked in.

His a father.

When he held that tiny human in his arms, the tears just kept pouring from his eyes and he couldn't stop it. When he heard that his has a baby girl, he protectively held her close to him. He watched her sleep on his chest, skin to skin contact was important to him as he spoke gently to her.

"My little princess"

"My sweet little angel"

"Daddy's little girl"

"I'm gonna spoil you, ya? I bet you'd love that"

Since her birth, his been finding excuses to hold her. Throughout his whole life, he was traumatized and hurt, he had to be cold to protect himself but since you and your baby entered his life. He had a reason to fight, he had a reason to live.

Now, he looks at you with so much love in his eyes. You are his girls and he will always love you.

Please buy me Ko-fi to support me ❤

[lynnlovesthestars]

dadstarion crumbs pls?

hiii, i wrote this a while back, its short but i hope youll like it<33

So many times Astarion dreamt of this day.

He would never forget the night he made love to you so intensely, so deeply, that you ended up carrying the seed of your love.

During the pregnancy he would care for you so much, from drawing you warm baths and massaging you back, to holding up your hair and making you soup.

At night he would hold you close protectively, daring anyone to try and hurt you. His hand always rested on the swell of your belly as he kissed your forehead.

Then time flew, the changes to your body would get him so emotional, to the point that one morning, as you were standing in front of the mirror, gently caressing where the baby would have been, that he cried as he wrapped his arms around you.

He was so proud, he would show you off. Whenever one of your friends would come over, he'd keep you close and praised you for being so strong.

On the topic of praises, Astarion could spend the whole day reminding you how beautiful you were carrying that tiny life in you. He'd kiss your belly and then your heart, before worshiping you like his goddess.

Later in the pregnancy, when your body would ache, he'd made sure you could rest as much as possible. He'd take all your errands and complete them before you even had the chance to get up from the nest he made for you.

When pain would jolt through you, he'd try to caress it away. "My love, I wish I could take your pain away" He'd trace soothing shapes while holding you to his chest.

He'd wipe away your tears as you clung to him, weak. "Darling, you are so strong, carrying our precious baby in you, and enduring all this pain."

Then before he could even process, the day had arrived.

He had prepared your morning bath, and helped you in the water. You'd rest against his chest, as he absorbed all your body heat. He'd make sure to clean every inch of your skin, while washing away the sleepiness off your bodies.

Until the sharp pain hit you, so bad you couldn't sit straight. He'd help you breathe, just how Halsin and Shadowheart taught you. He'd wipe away the tears, hoping that the pain would be just fleeting, but a while later, as you were reaching for your night robe, another bolt of pain hit you.

Astarion guided you up the bed, drying off your forehead as you'd wince in pain over and over, until he came to the conclusion that it wasn't the random pain you'd feel through the day, but the contractions.

He wouldn't hesitate to reach for the scroll he kept on his nightstand, ready for use as suggested by the druid.

Then, before he could even process, all your friends crowded your bed chamber. You'd still lay there, your body trembling and aching while everyone rushed back and forth.

Astarion on the other hand, took it on him to cradle you to him. "You can do it, my love. Our baby is almost here" He'd whisper lovingly.

Before another contraction would hit, another bath was drawn for you.

Astarion once more guided you to it. He was ordered to stay just at the edge of the tub, holding you from there, until you were barking at everyone. You wanted him closer, there with you as fear started swirling along all those overwhelming feelings.

He'd smugly smile at Shadowheart as he took you in his arms again. Your safe space, you called it.

He'd help you out to keep the squatting position, while contractions became quicker and stronger.

You'd rest your forehead against his as you couldn't hold back the tears anymore. "You are almost there, my sweet" He was no longer whispering, for once he'd let everyone hear his love as his fingers held your hips.

"Just one more one my love, you are so strong" He'd hold one of your hands as you were rocked by the water. He'd encourage you as you pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until a cry echoed in the room.

He still held you close while Jaheira cleaned you up, and healed the broken skin.

The time stopped though as Halsin finally put the tiny creature in your arms. His eyes were a fountain as he admired how you held your baby, how you'd introduce him.

"Look, my sun" You'd whisper as the tiny hand clasped at your index finger. "That’s your dada" You'd coo as you'd point at him.

The kind of sound that Astarion made was everything: a sob so full of joy. Then you'd invite him to hold the baby, and his heart felt so full.

He swore to himself that he'd protect you with his everything, your little family.

He was so afraid of accidentally hurting the baby as he traced the soft cheeks with his finger, and before he could process, the baby's tiny lips twisted in the most heart shattering smile.

Every sound was distrant as he'd be lost in your little bubble. You three sat there just taking each other in.

No one dared to break that little corner of heaven, until Gale's sob caught the pointy ears.

When Astarion would look up, his friends were all still there. Karlach, Gale and Wyll trying to hold the tears back, passing each other tissues as they wept.

Shadowheart and Halsin were trying to get Lae'zel to reason, as she wanted the baby to hold their first dagger.

Jaheira instead came near the three of you, still in each other's embraces.

"Little cub, you should move to the bed and rest" She'd offer her hand to get you all out of the water.

The baby rested in your arms, against your chest as he reached for your towel, wrapping it around your shoulders. He'd take his towel as well, and an extra one, big enough for the little one, before joining you in your bedchamber.

Nothing else matters but the two of you laying in bed. The baby asleep on your chest as you'd finally allowed the tiredness to dawn on you.

You'd look outside the window, the first lights of the morning warmed up the sky with pink hues. Their little sun, they shared the thought while your friends were already fighting for the baby.

Who was gonna hold them first. Who was gonna spoil them. Who would be the cool one. And Karlach was ready to claim those all, whether she had to rage or not.

That's when it hit Astarion. Your family wasn't little, as he called it earlier. It was crowded, full of love and maybe one day he'd admit he didn't mind all these /annoying friends clogging the corners of the home and burst the peace of their walls.

When you awoke, hours later, he was still there. The small bundle of joy laid in his arms as he cradled them closer to his chest.

“you should rest too” you grogged as you smiled softly, your chest swelling at the sight.

He raised his eyes, from the baby to yours, still aching despite looking so peaceful, his eyes swollen from tears.

[thebluester2020]

[ZZZ] "How To Recieve An A+ In Housekeeping!"

Summary: Attempting to get a job in Victorian Housekeeping Co. is a very strenuous process! One must show a wide variety of skills, good vocabulary, and excellent manners— all three were skills that you were failing at but, luckily the leader of the company had the perfect method to teach you these skills and it all starts with a program! Warning(s): Dom! Lycaon / Sub! Reader, Brat-Taming [Reader's a bit mouthy at best tbh] Spanking, Slight Edging, Cum Denial [Kinda? Lycaon encourages reader not to cum but doesn't do anything to enforce it tbh], Lycian being gentlemanly as hell. (Feel free to tell me if I missed anything!) Side Note(s): I won't say I am/am not a furry. But I will say that my taste in dudes will always favor them where they're stoic and serious but have a secret soft side. Respectfully, those types of men make me want to do the sexy splits on them.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy this <33

"Your manners are terrible"

When those words left the wolfman's mouth sternly as you sat before him, only a desk separating the two of you, you could've sworn you felt a metaphorical anvil drop into your stomach. You had been job-hunting for a couple of weeks now, after your last gang had disbanded due to the leader getting caught up with the law. You no longer had a steady flow of cash (albeit a little illegal ) coming in!

From gang member to attempted housemaid...it was laughable. Even to you.

And clearly, the leader of the Victorian Housekeeping company thought so too from the way he looked at your resume with a strict gaze once more before resuming looking at you. You were fully expectant of another harsh sentence to slip from his sharp-toothed youth until...you heard a heavy sigh escape him.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, the very room seeming to react to the movement by the way the single light above you two flickered. His then he huffed. "There is a way to improve to improve your manners, however, you'll be learning from me personally."

You gasped. "Really?! Thank you so much, man!"

His ear twitched at the casual "man" you threw his way. "...Sir or mister is a more proper way of speaking to your male superiors."

You cleared your throat and uttered a 'sorry'. "The program will be for three weeks. Each week will be dedicated to a specific set of manners that you are to master if you wish to join the company."

"Which are?" You responded.

"The first week will be vocabulary, communication with clients, and the correct words to address people by," As Lyacon said this, he opened a drawer on his side before pulling out a piece of paper and sliding it to you. You slowly began to read over the paper, one that seemed like a contract of sorts as the wolf continued to talk.

"The second week will simply focus on posture."

You scoffed as your eyes flicked back up to his. "Posture? Ain't that just walkin'?"

"Proper posture is harder to achieve than one may assume Ms. Y/N." He said. "The third week will be—"

The sudden clearing of his throat made him stop immediately, your face suddenly but quickly turning red as you reached a section on the paper that caught your eye.

Complete submission is expected by those who train under Von Lycaon, especially those he offers "favors" to.

"F-Favors...?"

"Favors hint towards a sexual nature, if I'm to assume that was the inquiry to your question?"

In your former gang, you had heard about Von Lycaon and the whole attitude of the white wolfman. He was a pinnacle of perfection in seemingly everything he did! There didn't seem to be a single thing he half-assed, to put it crudely, and what's more? He didn't get distracted. So...for a document to suggest that he wanted submission during sex?

You didn't know if it was shocking or expected.

"I didn't expect the Lycaon to need a document to garner sex." You said.

A rare chuckle left him. "I don't," He answered. "But everyone learns quicker and better when praise and pleasure is included, correct? This is merely a suggestion for you to learn faster. You are more than welcome to opt out of this."

"And if I accept?" Upon that question, the corners of Lycaon's mouth curled up slightly as he slowly leaned in until you could just barely feel his breath.

"Then you will learn fast. On my honor, I promise you."

You should've said no to this optional part of the program. All you needed was a job and Lycaon made it clear that there was a sexless version of the program where you'd simply learn the old-fashioned way! No pleasure or sex included but...as your eyes steadily trailed over the thiren, you couldn't deny he was a handsome individual. It wouldn't be unpleasant in the slightest to have benefits while completing your training under him. And as you steadily came to that conclusion, your thighs beginning to clench underneath the desk.

The thiren briefly sniffed at the air before he closed his eyes and exhaled. He was as still as a statue for a brief moment before he cleared his throat and offered you a pen from his breast pocket.

"I didn't give you an official answer—"

"Your scent gave me a suggestion." His raspy voice in combination with the sudden feral look in his eyes...you all too quickly shooed away any doubts you may have had before you began to sign away on the line at the bottom of the paper. And once you did, sliding the paper gently back to the wolf, he read over it briefly before he folded it neatly and placed it back into a drawer.

"We shall begin Monday," Lycaon said. "Please be prompt and on-time, I don't tolerate tardiness."

"Yeah, yeah." You scoffed.

And thus, your training as a potential housemaid for the Victorian Housekeeping Company has officially begun.

. . .

| Week One |

You had slept in, you had forgotten to set a timer over the weekend, too engrossed with the fact that you had basically agreed to have sex with Lycaon during your three-week training! The second you arrived home, it was a struggle to not touch yourself to the thought of what he looked like underneath his kept-together appearance.

You imagined he'd be soft to the touch judging by how much fur he had.

Would he be firm with his gaze, demanding you to be perfect even in the heat of the moment? Or would be he gentle and accommodating with you?

No matter how much your body cried out for you to indulge yourself a little, you saved it until you experienced it for yourself.

But right now, as your head was bowed down in apology to the wolfman for making him wait over forty minutes to your first day. You had a strong feeling you wouldn't be experiencing anything pleasurable today. "Once again dude, I am SO sorry!" You said.

"I forgot to set a timer, then I wanted to stop and get some breakfast along the way—"

"Stop," He snapped his jaws with a growl seeming to bubble just underneath the surface, the sight of his fangs making you shudder out of fear and...the slightest hint of excitement.

"First appearances are important, the most important out of any interaction and you sullied it on your first day of training? How do you expect to work for the company with such a flippant attitude?"

"I said sorry—"

"Sorry does not cut it Ms. Y/N. Excusing being a minute or two late is another matter but forty? Punishment is the only fitting way to solve such blatant disregard for other people's time." At those chilling words, Lycaon took a single step toward you before he took your chin into his hand, his eyes scanning over your nervous form with a critical gaze before he eventually sighed.

"I have a punishment in mind, please see to it that you are undressed in my office within' five minutes, and be on time."

Your eyes widened to the size of saucers before you huffed defiantly. "I'm not doing that!" You yelled.

His ear flicked, to him? You sounded like an impudent child, screaming and doing anything to get out of being scolded by their parent. "No?" He tilted his head.

"No!"

A wolfish smirk crept onto his face. "Every minute you stand here is an additional minute to your punishment Ms. Y/N. Do take care to remember that."

And so, there you stood.

| + | + | + |

You wouldn't be able to claim that he wasn't patient for the entire duration you had a fit about being punished on the first day of training. For about ten whole minutes, you stood there staring at the thiren until you eventually got bored and decided that "your punishment wouldn't be that bad" and simply went to his office!

You sat on a black couch and waited and when Lycaon came in?

The way he so quickly got his hands on you felt like you were being thrown around by an uncouth beast, a complete switch from the gentlemanly wolf you were talking to just a few minutes ago.

Slap! "Count." He ordered.

"O-One—Ah!"

He tutted his lips with a shake of his head as his hand slapped against your ass again, your maid uniform tugged up to your midsection as he pinned your hands down with his free hand. "Proper communication is most effective when you're speaking clearly Ms. Y/N...also, it's "one, sir"."

Another slap against your red behind rang out in the air, your body jerking forward a little at the movement. "At this rate, you'll never reach fifty." He sighed.

"W-Wait...!" You begged. "J-Just give me a break...so I can c-catch my breath—" When he slowly inched his hand upward again, your eyes widened as you quickly remembered your manners. "S-Sir! J-Just let me catch my breath...please."

If your eyes weren't blurry with tears, your mind getting fuzzier and fuzzier as you tried to ignore the ache in your cunt. You could've sworn you saw his tail move a little. After a minute, however, a sharp gasp left your swollen lips when you felt a finger graze against your sex, the featherlight touch making you shudder as you whipped your head around to look at the Lycaon.

Unconsciously, his tongue poked out to sweep against his upper set of canines as he focused on how your slick oozed out from your pussy so shamelessly. But at the same time? He figured he shouldn't have been shocked at the lewd sight, his keen hearing didn't miss the way a tiny moan would escape your lips at each slap. It was as if you wanted him to keep going and didn't want your punishment to end anytime soon.

Such behavior wasn't befitting of a potential future employee at the company. "Are you done recuperating? If so, then let us continue."

"W-Wait..." You begged. "J-Just a little time- Ah!"

"Now, now—" He pressed his hand down on your wrists a little more, lightly pinching at your thigh with the tip of his claws to calm your squirming. "—If you focus and count Ms. Y/N then your punishment will be over very soon, please remain focused."

After a final warning, he was quick to resume his smacks against your ass. The pain and pleasure eventually blurring into one another enough for your brain to somehow find a way to "center" itself. And, after around twenty minutes...Lycaon finally released you from your bent-over position over his lap and got up.

A lingering rebelliousness in the back of your head wanted to curse out the wolf as he stood, fixing his cuffs until they were neat again as if he wasn't rocking a blatant boner in his trousers! Yet as your mouth began to open as he walked further away...it quickly shut when he started walking back to you after grabbing something from a bookshelf behind his desk.

"What is that?" You asked.

"Aloe cream, it should help with the burn and any burning sensations."

Oh, you thought.

How...nice of him.

At your silence, his head tilted as he sat down next to you. "Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, y-yeah...I just wasn't expecting aftercare." You blushed.

"Your work would be even more affected if I didn't do this, I wouldn't want that." Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat.

. . .

| Week Two |

You didn't want to admit it to yourself at the time but you knew full well as to why your heart skipped a beat that day. At first, you tried to joke and claim that you were a masochist starting to bloom! Von Lycaon was handsome, yes but you knew how to distinguish between work and personal lives! Besides, you wanted money more than you did romance and if the latter interfered with your money...you weren't in any shape or form interested in it.

But, at the second week's coming, this week focused on posture if your memory served correctly. You couldn't lie or joke to yourself anymore.

You developed a crush on your future boss.

And it grew harder and harder to deny that fact in your...current position. Naked aside from your short black heels, you were standing right in front of Lycaon with his pants pulled down just enough to reveal his leaking dick. The tip seemed to turn increasingly into an angrier red as you continued to stay frozen in place. "Are you uncomfortable?" Lycaon's words snapped you out of your thoughts before you shook your head.

"N-No sir! It's just..." You went quiet for a second. "How...how is this going to teach me posture?"

"If you would come closer, I will show you." Like a siren's song, the beckoning of his clawed finger made you take small steps forward until you were finally in front of him. "I'll be letting you take control of me for some time," You could've sworn you caught a smirk on his lips at his words. "If you manage to fuck me until I cum with the correct posture then consider your training done, and welcome to your new job as a new maid to the Victorian Housekeeping company. I'll be generous and not even include the third week of training."

"But—" As his hand found its way to your hips, he gently tugged you forward until he slowly maneuvered you to straddle him on his lap, his cock throbbing against your stomach as beads of sweat started to appear at the back of your neck. He reached the middle of your stomach, easily! And that wasn't even considering his girth. "—If your posture fails, you will unfortunately stick to the original training program. And I must warn you, most do not manage to get through week three."

You jumped a little when you felt Lycaon's hand move down to your pussy. "What are you doing?" You voiced out shakily, your clit throbbing at Lycaon's touch as one finger alone was enough to cover your entire clit.

"Preparing you of course," He said with an "obviously" tone. "No matter how much I can smell your eagerness in the air—" A sharp moan escaped your lips when his finger started to slowly move, your cheeks burning at the fact you let out such a noise from such little stimulation. "—I doubt you will be able to fully take me without a little prep."

"Y-You..." You bit your tongue to keep a curse from flying out, your hands quickly moving to his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself and not lose yourself too quickly to the pleasure. A task that you were quickly failing at as you felt a knot slowly begin to form in the pit of your stomach, scorching hot tears brimming your eyes as a single line of drool fell from the corner of your lips.

And Lycaon was enjoying every second of it.

If he were to be honest with himself.

He didn't want you to succeed this time.

After having so much fun with you last week, he would say that he had gotten a bit greedy. As entertaining as it was to tame your bratty behavior and mold it into something more palpable as someone who would be interacting with clients often, it was torture all the same to him to not shut you up with his cock instead! It wasn't enough to rut into his hand at the end of every day, heated pants leaving his lips as his tongue lulled out of his mouth like some common dog begging for a slip of meat.

To say that it was unbecoming of him to set you up for failure was an understatement, rubbing your needy bud until you nearly squirted on him wouldn't make you last very long when you were actually seated on his cock. And as cruel as it was for him to say...how unbecoming and un-gentlemanly it was...

He was so fucking eager for you to fail.

"S-Sir..." His ears perked to your whining as your head fell his chest, his ears then moving to the sound of lewd squelching coming from your pussy. "Please...I-I'm so close..." You whined.

He allowed himself to play with you a minute longer until...he took his finger away.

He struggled to withhold a laugh at your state, your eyes seeming to be confused and stuck between wanting to glare angrily at him or beggingly like a wanton whore for him to continue. "Don't look like that," He said. "If I were to make you cum now, you would be too shaky to fuck me."

You were too shaky now.

But, you'd first kiss the seat of a toilet lid before admitting defeat.

"I-I won't fail this..." You said with determination, although breathlessly.

His tail wagged ever so slightly at your determination. "We shall see," He responded before he relaxed against the couch with a deep sigh. "Please begin at your leisure Ms. Y/N." When you took him into your hand, you felt a surge of confidence at Lycaon's not-so-quiet sharp inhale of breath. You prayed that he was just as needy as you because as you lined him up to your entrance and started to slid him into you, every inch that sunk further into you made your mouth gap wider and wider until you were certain you looked like a gasping fish.

He rubbed against your walls so nicely too, his girth stretching you out just enough to where it made you drool as it touched spots inside of you that you hadn't had a clue existed until today!

"F-Fuckkkkk..." You moaned out once you were fully seated on him.

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, desperately trying to ignore that burning feeling in your core as you began to move.

"Shit." Oh, how you just wanted to just shove a hand over his snout to keep him from letting out such sexy noises. His raspy voice and the way his thumbs rubbed encouraging circles into your hips...it wasn't good for you. You'd cum faster at this rate.

"Faster," Lycaon suddenly ordered, opening one of his red eyes to look at you.

"I...I can't- Oh!" Your words caught in your throat when he suddenly fucked up into you. A squeal nearly leaving your throat as you shut your eyes tightly to try and force back that urge to cum.

"Disobeying a superior now Ms. Y/N?" One of his hands slowly dragged up your back before it gently shoved you forward a little. Immediately, you fixed your posture although you nearly fell back over a couple of times. "You should watch yourself, my type of punishment for this act won't be very fun."

You doubted that.

But, as your hands tightened on his shoulders and you fucked yourself more quicker onto him. Tears started to flow down your cheeks more easily as you couldn't deny the burning feeling in your stomach anymore, how the way Lycaon's dick throbbed inside of you and pressed against your most sensitive spots...the urge to beg him for the chance to cum, just once was on the tip of your tongue but you tried to stay focused. "Oh my God..." He moaned deeply.

"Fuckkk..."

"A-Are you close?" You whined.

He scoffed. "Not even close," You felt your hopes nearly crash and shatter at those words. "But...your pussy feels so good on my cock," He praised, his tail thumping against the couch unabashedly as he stared up at you with hooded eyes and a feral gaze. "Perhaps, instead of a maid, you should be my personal breeding toy."

His smirk grew when he felt your pussy tighten around his cock.

"Yeah?" He asked. "You like that?"

You shook your head, shutting your eyes tightly as if not seeing him would help your situation anyway. However, as you felt a furred hand cup the side of your face, the feeling of breaths hitting your face. Your eyes slowly cracked open to the wolf thiren's face right in front of yours, panting and moaning with little to no shame before he smiled. "So pretty like this Y/N..." He said before his leaned down to begin pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

Briefly, the thought of whether or not this was a part of the training flashed in the front of your mind. But...as quick as it came, it was gone. You wanted to believe that...he wasn't following some manual when it came to his actions, that they were meant just for you and you alone. "You're so wet, making so much noise...I think I was right in my earlier suggestion hm? Maybe you will do better as my toy."

You shook your head. "Don't lie." He lightly nipped your shoulder, the sharp sudden pain being just what you needed to throw you over the edge before...Lycaon's ears moved to the sound of gushing and the feeling of wetness splashing against his pants and a bit of his thighs.

Without a second thought, his fingers shot down to gather some of your cum onto his fingers before he tasted you, a groan rumbling out as he almost shocked himself with how fast he got hard again. But before he could mention it, much less suggest it, when Lycaon returned his gaze to you. He saw you passed out against his chest, the very sight making him laugh ever so quietly before he sighed.

He supposed he was feeling a touch bit generous...he expected you to cum within seconds of fucking yourself onto his cock but it took you longer than that! To the point, he actually began to worry about cumming first or not! Although he had a mind not to be, he decided to be generous and forgiving seeing as you fucked him until the point of total exhaustion on your point.

He'd give you a passing A+ for effort.

[grimm-writings]

swallow

…ft! sunday x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, spoiler-free, first kiss, a shy sunday practising selfishness

…wc! 823

…notes! i’m obsessed with this nerd and want to give my attempt and writing how i feel he goes about romance (VERY AWKWARDLY). have at thee.

Don’t move.

Do not do anything.  Do not even respond.

It’s the one request Sunday made of you for the moment.  He revealed the fear that he would like to kiss you, but fear of anything unexpected occurring during it throws him off.  You understand; the idea of being vulnerable and under someone’s scrutiny can be extremely nerve wracking.

Thus, this was your solution.  You weren’t to reciprocate, you weren’t to place your hands anywhere, you weren’t to move even a muscle.  Sunday is still slowly coming to terms with being with you, never mind having you as his own.  This is a slow process, and you’re willing to do things at his speed.

Sunday is on his knees, level with you sitting on a chair.  His torso fits between your legs as he apprehensively glances up at you.  You grant him a reassuring smile, and nod at him.

Your eyes flutter shut as the besotted Halovian swallows down his anxieties.

He’s come this far.  It’d be a shame to miss out on you.

Sunday doesn’t dare touch or hold you, at least not yet.  His face approaches yours at a slow speed, as if he himself was slowed down by time.  His lip quivers when your breath fans against his own.

Cautious, Sunday allows himself the will to shut his eyes, lest he cowers and moves away once more.  Xipe help me, he internally scrutinises himself.  He can feel himself shaking.  How pathetic.  If he were more like a prince or some hero from a novel, someone truly worthy of you, he’d have already swept you off your feet.

Yet here he is, frozen stiff at the very idea of touching you.

He knows you’re resisting from encouraging him, reassuring him that it’s okay, he can take his time.  He doesn’t need to hear you to know it.  Your eyes flutter, tempted to open to spare him a glance, make sure he’s okay.

If he’s being quite honest, Sunday feels like he might faint.

Gloved fingers, trembling, push hair away from your face.  Even without looking at you directly, Sunday can imagine where you are, where all your features lay, with such clarity.  Has he memorised you so thoroughly?  He stares more than he thought.

His palm rests on your cheek.  For a moment, he wonders what it’d be like if it were skin-on-skin contact.  His hands, he doesn’t think they’re worthy of holding you so honestly, so purely.  This barrier of fabric is for both of your own sakes.  Sunday isn’t sure if he could bear the thought of being so intimate.

In his mind, he can hear Robin’s laughter– asking in disbelief if he truly is that timid.

It’s as clear as a glass cage, Sunday is utterly hopeless in your presence.

He doesn’t wish harm unto you, and considering his position, that’s a very likely thing.  You are the glass, reflecting back at him.  Shining, gleaming with a light Sunday vies for so ardently.

Your warm breath is like the sun wishing him nothing but pleasure for the hours to come.  He can imagine you withholding the temptation to smile, feeling the heat radiating off his cheeks against your own.

He’s weak.

He’s completely weak for you.

Lips brush against yours, at long last, and Sunday hesitates.  He’s so close, and he still finds himself freezing up again.  How long has it been?  Seconds?  Minutes?  The desire to be so meticulous about a mere kiss…  Losing that sense of control would mean disaster for dear Sunday.

It’s mind-boggling to him how perfectly his lips slot onto yours.  With precision, (practised?  Did he rehearse all this on a pillow or something?  Perish the thought!)  Sunday presses his mouth against your own.

As promised, you don’t move.

You do not do anything.  You do not even respond.

Chaste, pure, controlled.  Sunday has kissed you, as arduous and nail-biting the whole proceeding was.  He pulls away after exactly three seconds, you count, and your eyes flutter open to see him, at the most vulnerable he’s willing to be right now.

You can’t help but smile, resisting the urge to giggle right in Sunday’s face.

“Aeons, you look so stressed!”  You note.  You rub your hand over his clothed arm, that hovers awkwardly in the air after you moved away from where he was holding you.  “With that red face of yours, you nearly look like a swallow!”

Sunday avoids eye contact for now, merely humming a nervous laugh.  “I just… hope it was to your standard. You deserve it.”

You had to hold back all urges you had just to throw your arms around your love and kiss him all over.  Boundaries are there for a reason.  You take his tense hand in yours and squeeze it, bringing it to your chest, just over your heart.

“It was perfect.”

Sunday smiles, golden irises finally daring to meet yours.  “Yes.  I concur.”

[freak-accident419]

Good Tidings

Josh Futturman x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Josh barely have any time to yourselves due time traveling nonstop, trying to save the fate of humanity. However, being at the Futturman’s Christmas dinner party granted you two a fair amount of time.

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: 18+ Smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader (no genitals specified, it’s just vague penetration), cockwarming, lots of fluff, takes place during Future Man S1E6 “A Blowjob Before Dying”, too much shitty sex jokes n puns (im sorry) (not), giddy+silly+sweet love making, you think you are sooo fucking funny, more goofy than serious/lustful, you two are very much in love, more plot (high ass dialogue) than porn tbh

(A/n: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!! Hope you enjoy this muahahaha and thank you all for your recent support! First smut written on this account, so be gentle with me please !)

-

You, Tiger, Wolf, and Josh were at the Futturman household, schedule disrupted due to the reluctance of Josh’s parents. They insisted that you all join them for their small Christmas dinner party. You were all sat down at the dining table, as well as the neighbors, Josh’s Uncle Barry, and Diane’s friend, Wanda (who was especially invited to perhaps keep Barry at bay).

While Tiger was mostly impatient and displeased with every mindless convo and laughter, talk revolved around several topics like DNA kits or Wolf’s strangely fascinating culinary.

You sat beside your boyfriend, Josh, slightly nervous about the time you were wasting. Ever since you’ve been dragged into the whole ‘Biotic Wars is real’ and ‘kill or be killed’ shit, you and Josh have been dealing with the worst, unimaginable shit ever. With the two of your adrenaline wearing off, you gradually processed everything that’s happened the past few days since you were never given a break. Hence the hand holding under the table as you two would seek comfort from one another.

But you attempted to distract yourself from the deaths you’ve witnessed and the near-death experiences you’ve had to your best ability by indulging in every conversation.

“Gabe, honey, tell them about—about the recent fishing trip we went on,” Josh’s mother, Diane encouraged to her husband with her sweet, achingly kind voice. You had so much respect for Josh’s parents, so it was pretty easy for you all to hit it off well. They loved you. In fact, they were heavily relieved that Josh had finally found someone, let alone someone as amazing as you.

Gabe let out a hearty chuckle as he prepared himself to tell the table his story.

“So, a couple of days ago, Diane and I went on a small fishing trip. And I remembered an old trick back in the day that attracted a lot of trout,” he explained as you picked up your glass of wine, sipping some generously. Diane smiled at him with a nod as he continued. “One of the very efficient ways to go about fish bait is blowing worms.”

You choke on your wine, holding in a laugh, coughing a bit instead as Josh looks at you with a knowing smile. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked, trying not to grin too widely. Did you hear that right?

“Blowing worms,” Gabe repeated, getting a confined chuckle out of you and Josh. “You inflate the worms with air, which makes them float instead of having your bait be at the very bottom. It’s perfect, especially near the winter time. Worked like a charm.”

“Ohh,” you gasp in wonder. You chuckle to yourself before you spontaneously say, “Yeah, actually, I think I did do that a few times. Blew a-a worm.”

You looked at Josh, thinking you were being hilarious, but he looked at you with surprised eyes and parted lips of shock that slowly transitioned into a smile.

“Really?” Josh’s father expressed with intrigue. “I didn’t even know you fish. You have someone teach you that method, or—”

“Oh, no, Mr. Futturman, I,” you speak as you occasionally switch from looking at him to Josh. “I think it’s a very popular method. It’s a pretty natural instinct, you know? Blowing worms, that is.”

“Wow, really? Always thought it was an old-fashioned sort of thing.”

“Nah, far from old-fashioned, it’s almost contemptuous!”

You did pretty well at suppressing your laughter, because you sounded really earnest. Josh covered his mouth, amused by your subtle humor.

“Joshy, we didn’t know that Y/n likes fishing. We could’ve taken them on our trip. In fact, we could’ve all went,” Diane suggests as she looked at Josh and then you.

It was like everyone at the table was blind to your immature, yet humorous implication. Except, of course, your boyfriend.

“Oh, no worries, Mrs. Futturman,” you insisted kindly. “I don’t usually fish. Plus, blowing worms can be very exhausting.”

“Y/n—” Josh reacted, but interrupted himself with a suppressed laugh.

“You think so?” Mr. Futturman raised an eyebrow. “I just stick a syringe in them, inflate it, and bam, it’s all thick and ready to g—”

You and Josh burst out laughing, holding onto the table and each other. You swore there were slight tears coming out of your eyes as both of your faces were red. You felt overjoyed to feel happiness and delight for the first time ever since your involvement in the mission. And you felt even more glad that it was your boyfriend that you fooled around with.

“Sorry, sorry,” Josh says after his laughter died down as the entire table was confused. “I just—We just thought about a, um, moment when—Um… Actually, Y/n and I did go fishing once. Isn’t that—isn’t that right?”

You nod and go along with it, detaining your giggles.

“Well, anyways, we actually did that method, and yeah, you’re right, it works like a charm!” He exclaimed with joy as his parents smile at him with approval and pride.

“Bet the worm was pretty small, huh?” Tiger jumped in wittily, however, in a coldly nonchalant manner.

“And pathetic!” Wolf blurted.

“Hey, even if that might’ve been true—might’ve—it-it probably had a personality, you know?” He reckoned with a shrug, making you laugh again.

***

“You are—are fucking terrible, you know that?” Josh quickly muttered under his breath as you two continued to kiss each other deeply on his bed. “Those were my parents.”

“C’mon, baby, admit it, it was comedy gold,” you giggle, pressing your lips to his once more by tugging his black, skinny necktie towards you as you remained sitting on his lap.

The dinner party was still going on downstairs. After a long time of looking at each other longingly at the table, you two decided to excuse yourselves in order to “prepare gifts for Josh’s coworkers that he forgotten to wrap” in his room.

When you guys rushed in his room, you couldn’t take your hands off each other, immediately making out once the door was locked. However, you then had to close all his blinds before you met him back on the bed. This wasn’t new to you, none of it was. The soft, warm orange that his room’s light emitted strangely comforted you, as well as being back on his soft, spacey mattress.

Was it a good idea to leave Tiger and Wolf alone with Josh’s family and company? Probably not. But you’ve taught them enough shit. They tolerate Josh’s parents, so why not a few other guests as well? And you’ll only be gone for no longer than five minutes, you’d hoped.

You bring your hands to his pants, attempting to unbuckle his belt. “Shit—What the—What the fuck is this?” You grumble, Josh laughing at you as you struggle.

“I think it’s—” He giggled, bringing his own hands to his belt, trying to remove it, pulling. “I think it’s stuck.”

“What the shit?” You wheeze. “Fuckin’—Fuckin’ cock block!” You continue to mess with the belt, trying your best to unbuckle it.

“Wait, you—you’re almost there, you—”

“Oh my god! Holy shit! I got it!” You let out a surprised gasp, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants right after.

“Oh shit! Flawless victory!” He exclaimed, making you stop in your tracks, looking back up at him.

“You did not just quote Mortal Kombat because I successfully unbuckled your belt,” you raise an eyebrow, nevertheless amused by his dorkiness.

“Maybe,” he answered smugly.

“You’re lucky I am in love with you, otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have let that slide,” you chuckle.

“Oh, come on. You’d love my video game references either way,” he insisted.

“I’m serious, Josh, the amount of things I’ve let slide because I love you is kind of crazy. Let me just say, I am so glad I met you after the ‘apple juice’ incident that Ray told me about.”

“Ray told you about that?”

“He told me a lot of things. Mostly the embarrassing things. I think he wanted to freak me out, you know? Always thought I was too good for you.”

You pulled his pants off, throwing it carelessly down on the floor. Your lips attached once more as he snickered as you then cupped his face with your warm hands. You look at your lover, his big, brown, desperate eyes looking at you with utmost adoration. “Well, jokes on him, he was entirely wrong. You are so good to me, you know that?”

He smiles at you softly, and you could sense how flustered he felt to hear that (the blushing patently gave it away). “You’re the one who’s been on my side since forever. Even when you got involved in all this shit that you didn’t even have to be in. You-You could’ve called me crazy, and-and broken up with me, but you believed me and stayed by my side, even knowing that things were gonna get dirty. And they did, get really dirty.” Rest in peace Janis and Carl? Or, rather, die, you evil perf-cocks? Eh, doesn’t fucking matter. “You’re so good for me, sometimes I can’t believe you’re even real.”

You giggle sweetly as you give him another kiss, a quiet smack caused by your lips deftly leaving his own to speak. “Well, I’m here and I’m real, and I’ll always be there for you, baby,” you reassure. You were perfect for him. Indefinitely.

He smiled blissfully. “I love you so much.”

You two made out passionately until you were laying under him, the lower halves of your bodies bare as you discarded the necessary clothes.

“Do you think your parents and everyone else knew about the worm thing or are they just that… I don’t know… clueless?” You asked endearingly under your breath as your fingers entangle in his soft, brown hair.

“Hmm. Possibly,” he reckons, raising his eyebrows as he thought about it. “That was still kind of evil of you, though.”

“Me, personally, I thought it was hilarious.”

“Blowing worms?”

“C’mon, your father set himself up for that.”

“Tiger called it small,” he muttered lamentably. “And Wolf said it was pathetic.”

“Jeez, whatever happened to personality?” You chuckle softly.

He sighed. “They still sort of called me out.”

“Shut up. It’s average, to say the least. Doesn’t matter either way, you’re enough.”

“But—”

“Josh, if it bothers you this much, then just prove them wrong right now,” you reply with a laugh.

“As in—?”

“Josh, c’mon, we don’t have time anyways. They’re expecting us any minute because of that shitty made-up story excuse. I love foreplay, dude, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t acknowledge the time at all. Quickies are definitely not our cup of tea. Y—” Your breath hitched as you felt his tip prod at your sensitive entrance. He gave you a soft, comforting kiss on the nose. You looked into each other’s eyes deeply, then your lips crashed into each other’s as the two of you stifled your moans once Josh finally thrusted in.

“Y-You know you’re p-perfect just the—mm—way you are, right?” You ask gently, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He smiled at this, kissing your lips once more, beginning to move. Your heart fluttered each second you felt him thrust in and out, slightly and satisfyingly stretching you. His hips moved quite skillfully, but also slightly clumsily, which was nonetheless admirable.

Your usual soft moans and gasps would be replaced by stifled grunts and sighs, due to the company downstairs. As much as you wanted the whole world to know that Josh Futturman was yours and only yours, you also had dignity—plus, it was his goddamn parents downstairs.

You giggled as you felt his nose against yours each rough kiss. “Y-You know, however, I think the only complaint I have about you is the fact that you hate Super Mario Bros.” You point out with a chuckle.

“Y/n, in my—agh—defense, it literally makes no sense. Like, why would there be pipes that are—”

“Okay, why rely solely on logic and rationality, hm, Futturman? I thought video games were all about escape. It’s all just harmless fun.”

“Yeah, well, I’m much more into games with thought-out plots and challenges,” he remarked, making you roll your eyes playfully. “Anyways, it pretty much just got ruined for me even more when Tracy at the video game store talked about Luigi having a very hairy, Italian cock.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Baby, I love you. However, your goddamn dick is currently inside of me. Please do not talk about Luigi’s theoretic hairy penis.”

“Noted,” he assents, going back to kissing you passionately, while moving slowly inside of you, yet deeper with each thrust. You let out a quiet, pleasured gasp as you felt him fill you perfectly, his hands lovingly gripping your waist to keep you still.

Your eyes closed as you indulged in the feeling of his gentle thrusts, him peppering kisses on your neck, softly chuckling under his breath. He guessed he was still in disbelief that he had someone as amazing as you.

“I… I still can’t believe someone as perfect as you would ever go out with a loser like me,” he scoffed, pressing more kisses against your neck and jaw.

“Hey, seriously?” You frown, holding his face in your hands once more, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are… a lot of things, Josh. But a loser isn’t one of them. Okay? You are so kind and funny and caring and thoughtful a-and—m-mm—amazing i-in general.”

“I—Fuck. I—I don’t deserve you,” he panted.

“J-Jesus Christ, sh-shut your fuckin’ rathole. Yes you do, baby. You deserve me as much as I deserve you.”

It was becoming harder to focus on your words as you continued to feel an increased sensation and pleasure as his thrusts quicken and falter. You let out a small gasp as you tense things up by wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him in even deeper. You two had been speaking and giggling to each other constantly that you didn’t even notice the lewd, wet, slapping against the skin that came from each heavy thrust. Josh grabbed one of your hands, interlocking your fingers tightly on the mattress beside your head.

“J-Josh, I—” You begin breathlessly.

“I know, me too,” he grunts as soft, inaudible whimpers and whines leave his lips while the movement of his hips stuttered. His rhythm was becoming unsteady, but it was also increasing in speed. “I—Y/n, f-fuck, I’m c—”

“Sh-shit, baby, I—” You pant as you felt closer and closer over the edge, every mere feeling increasing your stimulation. You bring your hand to cover your mouth and suppress any loud moans as you finally released, the knot in your stomach undoing itself as you sigh afterwards once your hand left your mouth. Josh came exactly right after you as his hips jolted for the final time, spilling his warm, white seed inside of you, burying his face in your neck to muffle a high-pitched grunt and acute whines.

You two were breathing heavily, kissing each other’s lips softly and lovingly after you both came down from your high. You two never moved from your position, still fragile and sore. Josh caressed the side of your waist under your shirt, his head resting in your neck as you moved your hand to play with his hair, holding him in your arms.

“This is probably the only time we’ll have together alone before we have to continue with the damn mission,” you figured, tangling his strands of hair in between your fingers.

“It’s bullshit,” he mumbles, his thumb continuing to rub your waist.

“Enjoy the moment while we can?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed dejectedly.

A beat.

“Hm,” you hum thoughtfully.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, I just… I like it whenever you’re inside of me,” you comment softly. This was probably the most affectionately vulnerable and honest you have been with him. Your tone lacked any intention for humor or lust; you were genuine.

He lifted his head up from your neck. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know. It just feels right. You know, as if you were, like, made for me exactly,” you whispered lovesickly, looking down at his sweet, plump lips to his profound, gorgeous brown eyes. “I wanna stay like this a little longer. You’re so perfect for me. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replied with a smile, kissing your lips soothingly.

Then suddenly,

“Futturman! L/n! Get out of there, we gotta go now! Operation Cameronium!” Tiger called from the other side of the door. “Goddamnit. The fucking—tiny man—baby thing—is, just, really starting to piss me off. Let’s go!”

You and Josh looked at each other for a while in silence before bursting out into laughter.

“We-we better go before she considers murdering little baby Wallace,” you suggest with a soft smile.

“Yeah… Wait. Do you really think—”

“No…” You answer before he could finish his sentence. “I know she seems all stoic on the outside, but I feel like the past few days, she changed a bit. Empathy-wise. Slightly, at the very least.” Josh nods.

“I’m really gonna miss this,” he sighs.

“Me too. But don’t worry, once we fix everything, we have all the time in the world together,” you assert.

“Okay,” he smiles sweetly, kissing your lips before slowly pulling out of you, leaving you to feel empty and slightly bummed.

The two of you, with your clothes back on and hair quickly fixed, you waltzed downstairs with no problem. Your hands had been interlocked, faces a bit flushed as you smile to yourselves.

“You two sure look happy,” Diane expresses joyfully. “You really got into the Christmas spirit, wrapping all those gifts upstairs, huh?”

You giggled under your breath. “Oh, yeah, definitely, Mrs. Futturman. Uh, very much so. I really love Christmas, you know? The gift wrapping Joshy and I did upstairs and, you know, all the Christmas traditions. ‘Specially, ‘specially the yule log.” You look at Josh with a knowing grin as he just listened in, suspecting nothing at all. “Really makes you feel warm inside, am I right?”

[hazbinwhoree]

May I request a scenario where Adam and reader are in a marriage and domestic life, like how he is with reader being pregnant, gave birth, and what he is like as a parent?

Is the request OK? This the first time I make a request so please correct me if I made a mistake here.

Domestic Life

A/N: It was easiest to do this in headcanon format.

Adam is far from the perfect husband

But he’s trying, he really is

He has a breeding kink, so it’s not long into your marriage before you got pregnant

When you tell him, he thinks you’re joking

“HAH! Good one, babe.”

You literally have to convince him

Once he believes you, he’s incredibly nervous

Yeah he had a breeding kink but he never really planned on kids

Eventually he comes around

Is actually really doting during your pregnancy

The way he looks at it, you’re sacrificing your body for nine months to bring his spawn into the world so of course he was going to dote on you

You’re incredibly nervous about your due date, knowing child birth was the worst pain a woman could naturally experience, but Adam didn’t really understand your fear

“Think of it like you’re taking a shit but it’s from your vagina.”

Thanks Adam, very helpful

Always comes up behind you later in the pregnancy and locks his hands under your stomach, lifting slightly, taking the weight off your back

The first time he did it you teared up in relief

Adam made a point to do it a lot more after that

When it comes time to deliver the baby, Adam is shocked at the process

There’s so much blood and screaming and Adam is almost one of those dads who pass out

Feels like a dick for not taking your fear seriously

Holds your hand the whole time and stays up near your head

He gets sick if he looks at what’s going on between your legs

Tries to be comforting and encouraging but he’s so bad at it

Eventually shuts up and just lets you squeeze the life out of his hand

He brushed your hair back and off of your sweaty forehead with his free hand

There are complications with your delivery, you lost a lot of blood

You start losing color and becoming sluggish and Adam yells at the doctors

They try to escort him out but he straight up refuses

Adam is terrified not only of losing you, but of being a single parent

He knew without you he would fuck your child up

Luckily for everyone, you pulled through

Adam is more concerned about you than he is his child

Doesn’t leave your side even to cut the umbilical cord

Leaves that to the doctors

But once you’re lucid again you’re asking about your baby and Adam doesn’t have any answers because he was too concerned with you

He doesn’t even know the gender

The doctors bring you your baby and when Adam sees him, your son, in your arms, he falls in love with him too

That doesn’t help the looming thought that he’d be a terrible father though

As soon as he finds out it’s a son, he wants to name him Adam

You allow it

Adam wants to be an active father, he does, but he really is bad at it

If you want him to take any night shifts, you have to wake him up because the baby’s crying won’t

He makes pervy comments when you breastfeed

“Me next?”

Adam is very happy and proud that he has a son

You catch him baby talking sometimes but he’ll always deny it

He doesn’t have too much trouble bonding with your son

He learns to love him as much as he loves you

Almost cries at your son’s first steps

Also denies this

Your son’s first word is “fuck”

You really try to get Adam to clean up his language after that but Adam thinks it’s hilarious

Your baby’s second word is “bitch”

He may not be the best father but he is a loving one

[mint-yooxgi]

Fight or Flight Mini Masterlist

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 57,852 (Yes, you read that right, almost 57.9k words)

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings and links found below the cut

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

→ Part One

→ Part Two

→ Part Three

→ Part Four

→ Part Five

→ Part Six {M}

[hanasnx]

thinking about hak fucking me dumb on his cock. folding me in half before stuffing me full. fucking me till my head is completely empty. only thing my poor dumb brain could process is the feeling of him stretching me out. the sound of his hips smacking against me. those sweet coos of praise as he makes me cum over n over. talking me through it, the room heady n thick w the scent of sex, bodies tacky w sweat, stuck together tightly while he rocks into me n im starry eyed, cumming on his cock w panted whimpers, n hes just nuzzled into my hairline to whisper encouragement of how fucking good i feel n im doing so well, cumming so pretty for him, while his arms flex n his abs tighten at how hard im creaming around him

take a bow.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: you don't know what you did to me with this one anon. i loved this fucking inbox message. god thank you like oh my god i cant believe it WARNINGS: fem reader | dom hak | explicit sexual content | established relationship | overstimulation | multiple orgasms | p in v.

HAK isn’t especially talkative during sex, save for the occasional comment that always has your insides begging to be screwed. Instead, he fills that silence with the language of his body, ardently conveying his desires as he folds you in half with his hands on your thighs. However, this is an exception. "H-Hak!" you choke out, but he lovingly hushes you, stroking your hair as he feeds his cock into your exposed hole from the position.

"Hold it right there for me, princess, don't move a muscle." he tells you with awe in his eyes and haste in his movements, introducing you to just the tip of him to let you get comfortable. You nod to him with artificial determination, squeezing your eyes shut as you adjust to him. His length is not only formidable, but his girth leaves nothing to be desired, thickly rutting into you to hollow out a place for himself. "Takin' it so good, baby, you want some'ore?" he murmurs in encouragement, and you nod again with a little whimper. A warm hand spans the base of your stomach, and you peep, peeling your eyes open as he holds your gaze with such a casually comforting expression. "Relax." he orders, but it's not a command, it's a strong suggestion. You breathe in deeply, and slack as much as you can while his hips swing in and out.

Gradually, and with a lot of groundwork, Hak is able to sheathe, and you're limp as a doll. A callused thumb affectionately strokes at your clit, puffy from stimulation. "Poor thing had to cum a couple times just to get me in, huh?" he taunts with a couple flicks of his hips, bobbing your whole body with such minuscule force. You whine from his cruelty paired with the stinging pleasure of being filled, clutching tight around his neck as he bites at your lobe. He had half a mind to warn you he's gonna go harder now, but you wouldn't verbally react anyway. Instead, he sets a regular pace, and moans in your ear from low in his throat, showing you how good you feel. The quiet is filled with the sound of his cock plunging into your gooey center, the smack of skin on skin as he harvests his own pleasure from the throes of this bed, using your brainless body to do it. He's thinking of you, thinking of how to make you feel good, watching you intently in the dull light as your mouth hangs open and your eyes flutter closed, and in turn it sends a rush through him. He renders you practically lifeless as a sex toy with just the efforts of his cock pistoning into you.

It's not long before you're cumming again, all it takes is a little tickle to your clit as he fucks you. Cream oozes out from around his cock, your hole pulsing around his shaft, but he doesn't let up. Your walls are overstimulated, but you're so far gone you let him do whatever he wants, it doesn't matter what it is. You want him to use you. "Oh, yeah, baby. Just like that." he talks you through it, keeping up a steady pace with the roll of his thumb over your clit, letting you ride it out your full body spasms. "You're so easy. Feel like I could just do this." Leisurely, he moves in you while he toys with your sensitive bud, observing your reactions as you appear as though you're reaching another orgasm. "Fuck, princess, how many is that already? Wanna do a couple more?" For the first time, you're able to gain autonomy of your own anatomy, clutching at him wherever you can reach to meekly shake your head. "No?" he confirms, amused. A wolfish grin stretches onto his lips as he cruelly tests you, his deft finger curls and straightens over your clit, swiping at it in a harsh manner.

"You're being mean!" you whine, banging your fist against his chest.

"You could make it harder for me, you know."

"Hak!" you chide and he snickers at you.

"I'll be nicer. I'll be nicer." he concedes, lowering himself to encase you with his body, sweetly moving his hips to sheathe and unsheathe completely. You pant over his shoulder, tangling your fingers in his hair to ground yourself as he drives his cock into you. The room is heated by your efforts, and your skins are tacky with sweat, the salt mixing with saliva as he leaves a series of passionate open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck. "I can't get over how good you feel, never felt anything like it." he speaks against your shoulder, ending it with a generous lick. "Where've you been all my life, huh? Where's this cunt been hiding?"

There's a familiar tenseness in your stomach that lets him know another one is brewing, and he doesn't dare upset the pace. He keeps talking to you, pulling back for better leverage as you meet his gaze with stars in your eyes. A dreamy smile curls the corners of your mouth as you feel that sweet warmth bloom in your body, nearing you to the edge. "Cum for me, pretty girl, wanna see you do it one more time." With that, you release, more powerful than before. Your back arches off the bed, and protectively he holds you through it, pressing you chest to chest with him as he licks your insides with the head of his cock. Your sweet cream spurts out from around him, dripping to the covers as nuzzles your damp hairline. His hard body against yours, you can feel his every muscle, but he's gentle when he coos praises about how good you did for him.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Is It Easier for You to Say You Never Loved Me Anyway?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (Pre- France)

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Angst; Poorly Written Smut

Summary: “We were built to fall apart and fall back together.” - Taylor Swift

A/N: Requested by @unhingedbiatch I hope this is what you were envisioning! Also, Leah never happened. Nope.

*gif is not mine

It was two days before he was set to leave when he saw you walk through the gates of the Commonwealth. His heart roared, stomach flipping at the sight of you after so many years. He knew he couldn’t approach you until you had been processed into the community, encouraging him to find Mercer and put a word in to speed things up. He had to see you. 

Your relationship began as reluctant friends during the time at the quarry but blossomed into so much more by the time your eyes fell onto the prison. When your family found Alexandria, he was your everything. And you were his. The openness between you was never guarded, a secret garden where you each could travel when the world threatened to tear you down. 

But as they say, nothing lasts forever. 

The two of you separated after Rick’s death, Daryl unable to live with himself if he didn’t put everything into finding a body to lay to rest; you unable to remain in Alexandria under the knowledge that he was leaving you and had refused your offer to come along. He had broken your heart but you loved him no less for it.  

Now Daryl waited for you, a nervous energy culminating inside him. He still loved you. He had never stopped. He felt as if you had taken half his heart with you when you left for your own travels, never knowing where that precious piece of him had been taken or if you’d thrown it away once you realized that he was never good enough to trust with half of your own. 

When you walked out of the processing center a day later, he was there, having waited all night. When your eyes met his, they softened, your arms open before you could even reach him for the embrace both of you had yearned to return to during an absence you couldn’t take back. 

“I missed ya.” Daryl whispered into your hair, his voice a rasp. You held him tighter with a feeling of both your hearts becoming whole in the safety of one another’s arms. 

“I missed you too.”

It was as if you’d never left. 

Daryl showed you around, smiles abundant and given freely without a care of who saw him; a change you wished you’d been around to see manifest. Maybe you were seeing its birth, your unexpected return being the catalyst that gave him enough security for others to see him as you always had. 

You reunited with Carol and Judith, while meeting RJ for the first time. He filled you in on losses Aaron hadn’t already told you about. Promised you’d have plenty of time to catch up with everyone after the next day. You didn’t know then what that had meant. 

It wasn’t until later that night, you on his lap and curled into his chest while he stroked your hair, that the demons hovering unseen while the sun had lit the path outside clawed their way into the space between you. 

“Where’d ya go?” 

“West. Stayed a while in Missouri, then headed southeast. Tennessee was a train wreck but there were some good people there.” You drew your knees a little closer to your chest, making yourself appear smaller against him. “Did you find him?” Daryl dropped his gaze and shook his head. The knowledge that he had left you for something he had failed to achieve was almost too much to bear. 

“Did ya—did ya find someone out there?” He muttered, not yet finding the courage to look you in the eye. 

“No.” You leaned back your head to find him staring off the side. You knew that look. You knew him like the back of your hand. With a fingertip against the far side of his face, you encouraged him to turn toward you. “I wasn’t out there looking for a replacement for you, Daryl.” He dipped his chin in a quick nod. “Did you? Find someone, I mean?

“Nah.” You couldn’t lie: you felt like you had been holding your breath in wait for that single answer. “Weren’t lookin’ neither.” The smile you gave him was tender and reassuring, your fingertip still brushing his cheek. You had even missed the rough feel of the stubble he always seemed to keep. “M’leavin’ tomorrow.”

Your ministrations ceased. “What?”

“Maggie. She had some info; some leads for me ta follow.” The contrition you could hear in his tone was almost enough to stave off your anger. “S’somethin’ I hafta do.”

“Just like you had to leave me last time?” You swung your legs around to stand up. “Let me go with you this time.” 

He was already shaking his head. “Don’t know what’s out there. You’re safer here.”

“That’s the same bullshit you fed me last time, Daryl.” You were fuming now, pacing the area in front of him while he wouldn’t even meet your eyes. “I’ve been out there! I’m not staying behind again!”

“Y/N—”

“No! I had no say in this last time and it’s kept us apart for too long. I won’t do it again! Do you hear me? I won’t!”

“Didn’t know ya were gonna be here. Didn’t know ya even knew where to find me.”

“Aaron told me. I went to Alexandria first.” You knelt in front of him, ducking your head to urge him to look at you. “Please, Daryl. Please don’t do this to me again.”

“M’sorry.” He whispered. 

You remained there, staring at him in disbelief. You had just found one another only to be separated again. Using his knees to shove yourself to your feet, you grabbed your coat and the key to your temporary apartment. The door hit the wall from the force of you throwing it open. 

“Fuck you, Daryl.” You hissed. You didn’t bother closing the door, leaving him alone to listen to your retreating footfalls move further and further away. 

Late evening saw Daryl packing the last of the things he would be taking with him. He knew he wouldn’t sleep, so he allowed himself several breaks. He was leaning against the kitchen counter chastising himself for not following earlier when there came a soft knock on his door. He had no reluctance to answer and found you standing on the other side. 

“Hey.” You attempted a smile that didn’t quite manage to form. “Can I come in?”

“O’course.” Daryl opened the door a little wider and stood back to allow you to pass him, closing it behind you. He wasn’t sure how to approach you or why you had come back in the first place. “Y/N, I—”

You held up a hand to request his silence. “I know you’re not going to let me go. And I know why. I won’t claim to understand it, but I have no choice but to respect it.” You watched his head drop, not in relief but guilt, despair. He just knew he was losing you again. It didn’t take long for you to cross the minuscule space that separated you from him. “I’ll wait for you this time. Here, in this apartment. I’ll wait.”

Those perfect blue eyes were wide with hope when he lifted his head; they searched you for any indication of a lie. When he found none, he nodded curtly. “Be nice to have ya here, knowin’ you’re waitin’ an’ mad at myself for makin’ ya.”

“Good.” You mused, stroking a stubbled cheek with your knuckles. When you kissed him, he froze, body rigid. You knew him well enough to press onward, your knowledge rewarded when he settled and his arms wound around you. Fingers found their way into your hair while the other hand drew you closer from the small of your back. You were breathless when you pulled back, rubbing your cheek against his. “I’ve missed that.” Daryl hummed, allowing you a brief reprieve before his mouth was on yours again. 

He walked you back toward the couch until the bend of your knees hit and you unceremoniously fell onto the cushions. Daryl followed your descent, chasing your lips. Palms on his chest, you pushed him back to shed your coat, your shirt following as he pulled his own over his head. As he worked his belt buckle open, you grazed your fingertips over the scars you knew by heart. Each ridge, each pucker, all a part of him. 

When he began to push his jeans toward the floor, underwear in tow, you sat back and raised your hips to rid yourself of your own, leaving your lower half bare, only a plain black bra shielding the last bit of skin. His hands were on your ribs, pulling you onto his lap while he simultaneously seated himself. He couldn’t stifle the groan when he felt the heat of your core over his erection, a feeling he had missed and never sought from anyone else. 

When you reached behind you to work open the clasp of your bra, the feeling of his fingertips on your sternum gave you pause. A new scar began in the valley of your breasts and stretched to your collarbone. It was left unspoken where you received it; a story for another time. You guided his hand to your lips, kissing the tip of each finger before drawing the middle digit past your lips. You hummed and swirled your tongue around the skin while shrugging off your bra. 

Daryl’s mouth was on you in an instant, his hand falling away from your lips when they parted with a drawn out moan. He licked the curve of each breast with practiced expertise, suckling at each nipple while your hands fisted into his mane; gentle tugs urging him onward. 

You began to ache for him in a fresh rush of heat. His hips jerked upward, jostling a needy whine from you. “Please.” You whispered, guiding him away from your chest to slot your mouth over his, chaste but hard. You kept your lips close, brushing his while you rubbed your noses together to maintain that contact. “I've waited long enough.”

The archer made a sound in the back of his throat, a growl that vibrated all the way down to where your heat slid over his cock. He need not release his bruising hold on the soft skin of your hips. He simply lifted you, shifted until the tip of him caught on your entrance and lowered you onto him. You remembered the stretch instantly, how your body always willingly molded around him. You were made for him, just as he was made for you. 

He panted against your lips, no doubt in restraint. It had been so long, he was shocked he didn’t spill inside you before you were fully seated. You, though; you were just grateful to feel him. You were both back where you belonged, however brief it may be. 

You moved first, a gentle rocking that made him hiss between his teeth. You didn’t stop, even feeling him begin to twitch within you. You feared how soon it would be over yet how you yearned to watch him fall apart. Daryl, on the other hand, was not willing for things to end so quickly. He worked his hand to where the two of you were joined and squeezed the bottom of his shaft. 

“Cheater.” You pouted, shivering when he chuckled against your neck. You felt his hand slide away, slick and warm, fingers wet when he pressed them into your hip again. He helped you sit higher on your knees only to drag you down, his hips thrusting up to meet you. The push and pull of him inside you, had your head falling back in a series of ah ah ah. 

He suckled a bruise onto one breast sliding his tongue over to the pebbled nipple, grazing his teeth against the sensitive bud, pulling sound after sound from you while he helped you bounce on his lap. 

“I missed you.” Distantly, you knew there were tears and your cheeks were damp, a sudden melancholy blending and twisting its way into the pleasure he was eager to give you. You dropped your head forward, smiling wetly when you spotted the moisture shining in his blue eyes as well. The kiss was hard, sloppy, full of need; it was a trade-off of years of absence and love and longing. 

His movements had slowed, calloused hands guiding you in a slow rolling atop of him. “Missed ya too.” His voice cracked, try as he might to keep his composure. It seemed wrong to feel the heat in your belly. Such a moment should be savored. You wanted to stop, keep him there inside you past the morning, never letting him climb on that bike. 

Your body disagreed, slowly but surely barreling you toward that precipice. You whined, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He wouldn’t allow your hips to stop moving, urging you toward release. 

“Wait.” He whispered, so soft yet with an intensity like you’d never heard from him before.

“I—can’t. I’m so close, Daryl. I need—”

He gripped your flesh, bringing you to a halt, willing you to look at him. When you did, the naked plea in his gaze took your breath away, extinguishing the steady build of pleasure to an ache that would never again be sated until he returned you. 

“Wait for me. Please.”

You nodded, drawing him against you to openly sob against his hair. “I will. I promise.” You held him there, the quiet shake of his shoulders against you; the hot moisture dripping onto your skin while your own tears fell into his hair. 

Why did you choose to return now? Why couldn’t you have come back years ago? He had been back from his isolation for so long, fighting and protecting all the people you loved and he had done it all without you. Because you were selfish. You followed your wounded pride as far away from him as you could. And when you came back, expecting he had moved on, actually hoping he had, he was waiting for you. 

And now you would watch him leave you again. On a mission that was not his to undertake. You would never be able to talk him out of it. Daryl had this drive, this desire to protect. He felt like he owed everyone to ensure their happiness. This was for Judith and RJ. They deserved their family to be whole. Daryl had raised those kids in your absence, the role of surrogate father taken on willingly. Now he would try to return to them what they had been missing. 

And you knew you couldn’t sway him. 

So you cried. He cried. And when your tears ran dry, still on his lap with him softening inside of you, you pulled back and cupped his face, red-rimmed blue eyes seeking comfort and reassurance. You smiled, a genuine small upturn of your lips, and kissed him. 

“I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes. You just come back to me, Daryl Dixon.”

With a sharp inhale, he nodded while whispering his knuckles across your jaw. He was committing you to memory. Every freckle, every scar, the twinkle in your eyes, every line, every curve. He’d take it all with him. 

You didn’t even react when he lifted you and gently placed you on your back, slipping out of you in the process. It took three strokes to bring him back to hardness. He guided himself to your entrance and thrust inside in one fluid motion, dragging a moan from you with you arching into his chest. 

There was only desperation now, each hard thrust begging you to fall apart. And you would oblige. The way he slammed into you, his tip angled to probe that spot inside of you, had you clawing for purchase on his back, his shoulders, his arms. 

“Daryl—oh my god, Daryl—I’m gonna—”

“Please.” He whispered against your ear. You were a goner. The pleasure was so intense that your eyes rolled back, vision alight with stars and shapes as your body vibrated to ride each wave. When you began to come down, you were thankful. His thrusts were prolonging your orgasm, a gentle thrum of pleasure that kept going and going as he chased his high. With teeth clenched, he pulled from within you just in time to paint your belly with warm ropes. He groaned above you, body trembling with the struggle of holding himself up as he spilled. He was left a panting mess of tremors that somehow found the strength to pull away from you. 

He reached for his discarded shirt to gently clean you, having absolutely no intention of allowing you away from him to take care of the mess yourself. The task complete, he tossed the article to who knows where and sat back, pulling you onto his lap. There was a mutual hum of contentment as you melted into him. 

“I promise I’ll wait.” 

Watching him ride away was probably the hardest thing you had ever done in your life. The last time had been filled with anger and a deep jab of betrayal. This time was different. You had conceded to watch this, made a promise to be there when he came back. 

He had held you, whispering in your ear while he smiled. It brought tears to your eyes. You nodded vigorously while he kissed you, laughing against his mouth. 

And then he was gone in a cloud of dust and the roar of an engine. 

But you would wait. 

You promised. 

[pedge-page]

Insatiable

Part 3/Finale to Cravings and Crash

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: Frankie and reader spend some time apart before realizing that’s actually really stupid—and solid communication happens for once :) 

Notes: it’s finally HERE! Thank you all so much again for your words of praise and keeping with these two absolute idiots in love. Honestly intended the first one to just be a one-off drabble throw away thought, but I’m glad everyone enjoyed it so much to ask for more! I’m spitting this out earlier than expected. Don’t know if I’ve done them reasonable justice but this is what I’ve got—hope you like it!

Warnings: unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampies, mentions of m oral, pussy eating king returns, cum eating, missionary, doggy, cowgirl, overstimulation, fingering, squirting, bit of possessive and jealous Frankie, mentions of drug use, drugs present, language

18+ ONLY

- - - - 

You had cried when you got in your car. And again when you went to your cousin’s house to crash until you signed your new lease. And then again every night for a week straight.

You had NEVER cried this hard over a boy before.

Except this wasn't some boy—this was Frankie. The guy who comforted you through all your dates that stood you up, and shitty boyfriends, albeit few, that left you feeling less than worthwhile. The same Frankie who stood around you like a guard dog when you went drinking together so no one would even think to slip something in your cup, but who YOU have to comfort during horror movies because he's a big scared kitten. Who lets you sleep on his shoulder for five hours in the car no matter how uncomfortable it was for him, never once moving, but still ate the food you didn't like off your plate "because he's a garbage dump who'd eat anything, even mold." 

The first guy to tell you that you were beautiful when you weren't even trying to impress him. Who brings a hair tie with him when you go to eat because you always forget yours and get your hair caught in your fork. Who pushed you to take charge of your life and break up with your loser first love, and it was the hardest and best decision you could have ever made.

And you know what? The ONLY guy who made you cum 9 fucking times the FIRST time he went down on you.

You called Santi that night because you needed to let loose, and the only other person you trusted to hold you up outside of Frankie was Pope.

“So how is he?” Santi asked, as you immediately double fisted your first two shots. 

"I don't wanna talk about him tonight."

Santi nods, eyes widening as you don’t even resist the bitter taste going down your throat. He holds his finger up towards the waitress to order 4 more glasses.

You really didn't want to think about Frankie. The more you thought about him, the more confused you felt, and you couldn't afford to be confused about your purpose in his life right now. You knew battling addiction isn’t a linear healing process. That it would get worse before it got better at times. You're his friend. You're helping him. That's it. 

Frankie spent a whole year being physically intimate with you, but never once asked or made a move for anything more emotionally. So why let yourself get carried away even thinking about something more?

To even consider if you wanted more...

You snatch the shot glass out of Santi's hand right before he was about to sip it and catapulted it down your throat, the burning sensation taking your mind out of the gutter.

Fuck Frankie for not keeping his shit together. Fuck him for being hot and cold. Fuck him for using you when that's exactly what you’re here for.

It's much easier to keep it all that way. Easy to encourage him with sex to avoid overthinking his intentions. Easier to constantly verbalize it, knowing he won’t deny it, as a means of reassurance to yourself. 

But absolutely fucking HELL he’s being so difficult lately. The sex—wasn’t just good. It was fucking phenomenal. you could physically see how much better he was just moments afterwards, even if you were blacking out and falling asleep not too long after. He was so hungry for it too, why deny? But he’d been holding back too much now—getting too tense, crashing, then stressed again. You needed to get things back on schedule with him so he’d be happy again.

And gentle, nurturing, innocent, sober you just wasn't doing the trick for him anymore.

You barely hear Santi over the pounding in your head: "When we was the last time you got laid? You need a distraction from your Fix-a-Fish hobby."

You gulp down the last of the vodka on the table, suppressing a slight burp.

"I'm 'bout to do both tonight."

That was 4 weeks ago. You didn’t achieve either that night.

Fish didn't seem too upset when you left, ultimately making the choice much easier. You looked so fucking stupid walking in there, basically demanding sex from him when he made it clear all year that you were only there for HIM and not the other way around. He didn’t want you like that. 

Good. Makes staying friends that much easier.

Or it did, for a little while. 

You couldn’t get over the way he made you feel when all was well—when he’d serenade you so easily in affection like Querida, Carino, Hermosa, and you could barely contain the butterflies in your stomach each time. You had never once heard him even refer to his dates or ex girlfriends in the same manner. It was both confusing and arousing. He treated you like a best friend some times, but adored you like a lover more. 

Hadn’t the man heard of friendship boundaries? Aside from the fact he made you orgasm every minute of the day, what was Frankie like as a lover? What more could he possibly do to cross that line?

Who the hell treats their friend like that?

That last month, however, felt more realistic. Grounded in the truth of your relation. You didn’t realize how much he had gotten to you with sweet words first that made the change in his attitude so unbearable. 

You wanted to go back to being selfish with his unbridled love.

You hadn’t gotten off in over a week, a new record. But as you lay in bed, conjuring any and all pornos, audio eroticas, pillows, aching fingers, even the dusty vibrator still wrapped in its new plastic, nothing was getting you to that same addictive feeling that Frankie gave you every single day.

You should have called him to return his shirt you had accidentally packed in your bag in a haste to get out of there. But it still smelled like him. You felt perverted getting wet just by holding it in your hands, but it was doing the trick, and finally you could touch yourself without additional lubricant assistance.

All the memories that tumbled from then on only made the ache between your legs worse: The first night, Frankie between your legs, begging you to let go so he could force more orgasms from your shaking body. “Doing s’good for me, cariño. Give me more, fucking starving” ; when he held you in his lap as you grind down on his bulge, his head buried under his shirt that you were wearing as his lapped at your nipples, “Don’t you dare hold back those beautiful moans, wanna hear you singing when I’m devouring you”; when he’d come home from work and didn’t say a word, just grabbed your wrist and lead you to his bedroom, lied on the bed, slapped your ass a few times to get you to straddle him higher, higher, until you were right over his lips. He didn’t even wait for your hesitation, immediately bringing your hips down and crashing his lips on your pussy, shaking his head like a mad scientist at work, hell bent on discovering what makes you cry faster.

You pulled your fingers away from your slick cunt. No amount of memory would compare to the real thing—and it wasn’t all the acts that you needed, but the intimacy, the familiarity that came from Frankie—THAT’S what always sent you over the edge.

It scared you.

Santi was half right. You did need to get laid. Needed someone who wasn’t Frankie to remind you that you don’t rely on him for some shit like getting off (although you had developed a keen preference by now). You needed a new hobby that wasn’t thinking about Frankie all the time. YOU needed a distraction.

He was half wrong, however, because you knew very well that you’d be drowning in lame date after lame lay a million times before you got over the addictive feeling of being around Fish this past year.

It never felt like a chore. Well, obviously, you were getting ate out like a Sunday brunch. But it was everything else that made you want to keep staying around, even after he maybe didn’t need you anymore.

You realized then that leaving was the best for you and him. You had somehow managed to score a  date tonight, the first one in over a year, with a James. Or Jonathan. Or Jimmy. Something J. I think.

I’m excited. I’m going on a date. I’m going to have fun. I’m excited. Im going on a date. Im going to have fun.

You didn’t even have the care to shave tonight before you begrudgingly left for dinner and a movie.

-

He couldn't say it then. Frankie remembered so vividly the image that he wishes he could forget: you standing there, so meek and vulnerable, spilling your tears as you tried to level your emotions with your feelings and confront the fucked up situation he put you in. Maybe if you had screamed, yelled at him and cussed him out for being such a dick, then he could have told you how he truly felt.

He was always better at being shouted at by others from being in the service. The guys would let their tempers soar and just shout, honesty tumbling through like a flood, and then everything would be out on the table, and shit would get DONE.

The apartment is unforgivably quiet and cold.

He's noticing little things you left behind: your nice moisturizer, expensive shampoo, a paper towel holder. He thinks you’re mocking him by leaving bits of you around his place, so he collects them in a bin and waits for you to come retrieve them. But you don't contact him for the first week.

He starts to think maybe you left those things for him. You bought all these things while you were here, forcing him to use them with you:

"Your face is as dry as a desert; you need moisturizer, not body lotion.”

"You can't use a 4 in one hair and body wash!"

"Who the fuck doesn't have a holder for their paper towels?"

It wasn't all just sex when you were here. He remembered coming in to the bathroom when your feet were soaking in the tub, and you explained you were rubbing your calluses off your feet. He joined you, sweats pulled up above his knee as you held him down to get the stone on his crusty feet, the whole time laughing and squirming because it tickled too much. He fell on his ass in the tub desperate to escape your strangely strong grip around his ankle, getting his clothes all wet.

And despite how well he had known you even before your arrangement, he continued to learn new things about you. Like you took night showers, and could only go to bed with your hair in braid. He'd come to see you, agitated in his room all morning, waiting for you to finally wake up so he could distract his craving. He’d walk into the kitchen where you were already cooking him breakfast, slip his arms around your hip, and pull your braids out lovingly to smell scent of your shampoo waft off in waves, closing his eyes and feeling his jitters dissipate, instantly calming him like no other remedy.

Found it funny that you couldn’t use a regular spoon for cereal, always replacing it with a tea spoon because the other ones are “too big” for your mouth to fully close around. A sentiment he suspected to be a load of BS when you had no problem swallowing his cock whole and then gulping down his cum without spilling a drop.

Or when you got red sauce all over the laundry and had to borrow Frankie's shirt to sleep in. He liked that you smelled like him, that it draped over you so pretty, and you'd never wear pants underneath. He'd put you in his lap and make you hold the shirt up with your teeth, showing off your perky tits. His thumb circled your hip bone, large hand clasping your waist to keep you upright while he'd kiss your nipples, and then make you both look down and watch as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, sucking the juices off as he finger fucked you over top him.

He can't help but feel his twitch of his cock stir in his pants at the thought.

Ok. Maybe the sexual parts were a big part—how could they not be? That’s all it was, at first. And he was able to pretend like it was too. But the more time he spent with you. The more time he got to really know you, live with you, breathe you in, unravel you and bind him to you so that you had no sanctuary untouched by him, it was all over before it began. 

He sat down with Pope a week after you left: 

“You look like shit.”

Frankie grumbled, shrugging it off. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten like he used to when you were around. His beard was growing in more patchy and less manicured than before.

“Have you talked to her since?”

“Don’t wanna talk about her tonight.”

Jesus, a broken record with these two, Santi thought. But he knew Fish much better, knew the exact reason why he called him out instead of all the boys together is precisely because he needed to get this off his chest. “She thought you were stressed, needed time. Clearly she was right.”

Frankie’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding so hard that he could form diamonds.

Santi cleared his throat, twirling the ice in his glass casually. “Course, I didn’t tell her you’re head over heels in love with her. Why didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t think he could again. “Imagine how that would have gone? She was crying right there. Right in front of me, BECAUSE of me, after I’d treated her like shit for weeks until her breaking point. Would have given her some fucked up idea that that was my expression of loving her. If I’d said it then, she would never have believed me. Would have ruined everything. Including our friendship.” He pauses, staring down at his rough hands. “She deserves better,” he said weakly, more to convince himself than anyone else.

Santi leans back against the booth. He’d heard the Frankie pity train before, but this was much lower than usual. “And friendship is still good enough for you?”

“I’ll take whatever she’ll give me at this point. I can’t lose her.” 

“You can’t? Or don’t want to?”

Frankie thought about that for a while. He had realized too late he didn’t actually still need you. He hadn’t really “craved” cocaine like before. He no longer needed you tending to his every reaction, overly serving his necessities and desires, always a few steps away to brighten his smile, or warm the house with your laughter, your cooking, your terrible taste in movies, all for the sake of keeping him sane and sober.

But damn it all, he still wanted you.

Frankie goes 4 weeks of the hardest withdrawal of his life. You were right, he was getting better at not thinking about cocaine. But without you here, he's more agitated than before. It's not that he craves it now, but rather craves a substitute to get him through your absence.

He's itching for his phone, for the number of his dealer he should have blocked and deleted so long ago.

He shouldn't. It would devastate you. You'd think it's your fault because you weren't here to distract him, only making the whole lie he’s been telling himself that you could still be just friends more abundantly evident. Pushing that useless tale even further, rooting it in your mind.

 In truth, it is your fault that his entire happiness is now emotionally and physically tied to you, but he can't really blame you for leaving him since he's the big idiot. He had the entire year to make it right, damned be the consequences of your possible rejection.

He’s clenching his fist at his sides, debating whether to text his dealer. He doesn't even want that shit, at least not the way before. He just wants a distraction from the real aches that you've left behind.

And if he did... wouldn't you come back to him to make it right?

You’re so clear in his mind that doesn't even struggle, doesn't hesitate as he pays the money and carries the little pouch in his hands. He gets back to his apartment with vigorous haste, slamming the door behind him, and sits it on the coffee table, staring.

Even if you don't come back to him, getting just a little bit high would help take his mind off it all. He'd be able to stop thinking about you, even for just the night. Just to get some sleep.

Just to stop feeling.

He shakily tries to undo the tightly sealed bag, but few particle traces catch in his finger tips from outside the plastic, and he instantly wafts the infinitesimal scent of it on his finger tips. He stops, feeling something he's never felt before when staring down at the thing thats caused him so much trouble in his life:

Disgust.

-

You considered calling Frankie a million times, but how soon was too soon? Would he think you were just desperate to get ate out again? Would he deny you the second you wanted to see him, thinking it was just a booty call again? You had made some stupid choices, like going on a shitty date with a guy you weren’t even interested in, just to get over Frankie, so that you could avoid thinking about how badly you had shattered your friendship.

And going right back to being his friend, which included sharing one of your reckless decisions you make on your own, was one of them. He’d be interested in hearing about it, right?

You dial him up quickly.

You rock back and forth on your heels, unable to sit still.

The phone rings out to voicemail.

He’s never missed a phone call from you. Not even at 2am on a work night. He's never on his phone, and yet still always managed to answer your calls even if it’s on the last ring.

He's just avoiding you again. It's fine. Santi said he'll get over it eventually. That you’ve done enough worrying for him, and need to take care of yourself for a change.

You glance at the key he gave back to you, and not even a moment later, are soon slipping on shoes and heading out the door with it in hand.

-

You unlock the door and slowly walk in to the familiar layout of Frankie's apartment. It's entirely dark, curtains drawn save for a small crack in the shades. You call out his name tentatively, the eeriness of the place making you anxious. When you see the bathroom light on and door slightly ajar, hearing the rushing sink water running, you sigh relief.

Thank God.

You gently push open the door. "Fish?" You see him, heart skipping a beat at how much thinner, paler he looked now than before, eyes sunk from lack of sleep.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and your heart breaks at how different he looks but STILL has the brightest, softest, loving smile at you.

Your eyes drift down, smile fading, horror quickly overtaking your face at the unopened baggie of white powder sitting at the sink. And his face drops at the realization.

You take one step back, unable to close the gape in your lips, petrified. "Fish—I—holy fuck..."

You had never seen him doing it, never seen him freshly blown high from it. The closest you ever got was what the boys would tell you, or seeing the long aftermath of his crash. They were always first on the scene and quite frankly, ensured you were never the one to find in him these states. You had never been able to mentally prepare to have to handle it now.

"No—no no no! It's not, I didn’t, I didn't! Look—ok it looks like I did but I swear I haven't touched it. It’s still sealed! I’m. I'm dumping it down the toilet."

You don't trust his word, seeing as the bag is here, albeit fully wrapped up, seal unbroken like he said. But here, nonetheless. With him. In front of you with no denial that it was his. 

He gets on his knees and wraps his arms around your waist. “Please don’t leave me. I didn’t want you to leave the first time…”

“And it’s taking you being high right now to admit that?!”

I’m not high, seriously. Check me.” You peer down closer, and aside from his rampant heart beating against your leg and big round eyes, there’s no trace of smell or lingering white powder anywhere on him. But you’re hesitant.

“I bought it but then realized It wasn’t what I really wanted…”

He licks his lips quickly, his brown eyes pleading up to you, biceps flexing against your ribcage.

Your chest is pounding, the encasing feeling of Frankie refusing to let you back away making you feel like a trapped rabbit. 

“Please believe me,” he breathes.

"Your eyes are dilated as fuck Frankie!"

"That's because of you!"

You both hold your breath, a pregnant silence ringing in the air.

“I—I’m. Um. I meant." His eyes trail off sheepishly as a warm blush takes over his face. 

He stands up, rubbing the back of his head. He can tell you’re patiently waiting for him to get over his blubbering awkwardness so he can explain properly. To find the words he’s combing his brain for. And find them he did: 

"I miss you, Querida.”

He breathes slowly, time catching up and suddenly stopping. 

You glance toward the bag, still fearful that he had gotten to this point while you were gone. “Frankie. I’m—I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. For your needs—“

“I don’t need you to fix me. I haven’t craved that shit for a while, still don’t even now. I just wanted you here with me.” He snatches the baggie and chucks it in the toilet, immediately flushing it.

You want to say that might not be great for the plumbing, but Frankie’s hands are on yours, holding them securely to his chest. “I just want you. I should have said it before you walked away.  Should’ve said it a year ago, when I knew I didn’t want to pretend this was just some—some drug replacement.” He goes quieter. “I didn’t want this to be nothing. I thought when we had sex, maybe you’d feel the same, but you didn’t—”

“I was afraid about what would happen to you If our dynamic changed, Fish. I was worried it was just another high. So I tried to make things go back to how they were since it seemed to be working so well for you before,” you rambled. He can see the shininess in your eyes, feel how your body is no longer resisting him and instead, cradling his neck with affection, empathy, nurture, all the things he’d been depraved of for weeks. “But then it made everything worse and I didn’t know what to do—“

He cut you off, as if suddenly things didn’t line up. ”Why did you come back?"

You lick your lips, eyes unable to meet his. “Well I called, and you didn't answer. And I wanted to check up on you, and tell you... um—I mean I always tell you about… I went on a date, my first one in over a year."

Frankie's eyes blankly drift lower, down to your feet, his arms retreating. He takes an awkward step back. "How... how did it go?" He asks slowly, feeling the distance between the two of you growing again.

You throw your hands up in the air, unable to express yourself. “He was…Handsome. Funny. Charming. Paid for me, made me feel pretty, treated me real good—“

He nodded, unable to bring his eyes anywhere else but back to the back on the sink as he listened. “S’good. That’s what you deserve,” he says, jaw tensing.

“Yeah. Yeah it is what I deserve.” You pause, here goes everything. “Except the whole time, I hated the fact that he was nothing like you." 

Frankie’s attention darts back to you as you cup his scruffy face in your hands. "You're irritable, and sassy, and needy and clingy, and you pout when you don't get what you want. And you don't listen to me or stop when I tell you to stop—“

A roasting fest? Now?? “OK, That's, Jesus, I get it—“

"And I love all those things about you.” You hold his gaze, feeling his breath seize in his chest. “And I miss being here. I miss waking up with you every morning, and your smug face being the last I see before I go to sleep. And it took me until after I left to realize how I actually felt about you. This whole year with you has felt like this perfect—“

"High?"

Your brows furrow shyly. “I didn’t want to put it that way, for obvious reasons. But fuck it. Yes. I don’t—I don’t wanna let that go.”

His fingers tense around your waist, almost begging you to say it, spill it out for him and don’t hold back ever again. 

“You got me addicted to you, Francisco."

You aren't aware of how fast he moves, his hands grabbing your neck as he smashes his lips to yours. Your heart is beating out of your chest when he sucks every breath from you, barely separating from your lips to utter "I've waited—so long—for you—“ He hoists you up on his waist and brushes out of the bathroom with your legs wrapped securely around him, his kiss hot and full of passion the entire time. "Wanted you since you first let me have a taste of you.” He slams you on the bed, the familiarity of you two being in this exact situation settles on you. “Wanted you to want me. Want more.”

He continues to engulf your lips with his, his moans vibrating against your tongue. "I shouldn’t—“ he hastily bites your lip with a grunt “—shouldn't have pushed you away—treated you so bad.” He pauses his assault. “I was so scared you didn't want me like that. Couldn't handle pretending I could be okay with it.”

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart matching yours. "Frankie, I want you."

"Good," he smiles, leaning up to remove his shirt over his shoulders. You whine at the sight. Draping himself over you, his lips never leave your body as he kisses down your chest then back to your lips. You’re unable to bring yourself to action as his body dictates both of your moves.

You feel his bulge pressing painfully against your core, eliciting an obscene moan from your throat. "Frankie—Let me take care—“

"No. Fuck no. I'm taking care of you tonight. And tomorrow, and every fuckin’ day after," he growls.

He kisses you once again but then slowly backs away. "Um, if... if you want that."

He feels your hand tangle in the hair behind his neck as you bring his face back to yours, teeth clashing for dominance. "I want it," you whisper, sucking his lower lip and biting it possessively.

His jaw hitches. “Prove it."

You unbutton your pants, taking his large hand and guiding it down your panties in haste. His digits make contact between your folds, the two of you sighing.

"Oh f-fuck. You want this, don't you?"

"Want you so bad, Frankie. It fucking hurts.”

His fingers dont leave your dripping cunt, spreading your slick around your swollen clit. His other rips your string underwear off with incredible strength. He then helps push your shirt over your head, and you immediately unclasp your bra. Frankie growls lowly at the sight of your perky breasts bouncing from their release. "Fuck, I missed these.” His mouth wraps around as much fat of your tit he could before biting, making you lurch. 

“I—I’m not gonna be slow—I wanted to—“

"Jesus Fish, I don’t care, just take me!"

He plunges two of his thick digits into your soaking heat, making your back arch off the bed. He takes the opportunity to suck a nipple back into his mouth, half his body hovering over you to keep your form perfectly positioned between his mouth and fingers. They teasingly thrust in and out slowly from your hole, intentionally dragging out his torture against you. "So mean to me, baby." His teeth nip at your nipple with a smug grin. "Takin’ my sweet little pussy away from me like that. I barely touched you and you're absolutely soaked. Were you wet on your way here?"

"Frankie I haven't... haven't been able to get off in weeks."

"How long?"

You moan out loud, eyes rolling back as your brain turns to mush. Your hand tries to guide his wrist faster but he slaps it away, continuing his teasing ministrations.

"Answer me!"

"Since the last time you touched me!" You cry.

He haults his movements. 

The girl who bragged about cumming an average of 6 times a day just grinding on a pillow, now telling him she hasn't been able to orgasm in a month, because of him.

Ohhhhhhh fuuuuccccckkkkkfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. “That why you went on your little date, huh?"

You nod shamefully.

"Did you fuck him?"

You whine, eyes burrowing in confusion that he still expected you have coherent thoughts while he had you in this compromising position, teetering on the brink of your much needed orgasm.

"Your date.” He repeats, his wrist slowing down entirely. “Did. You. Fuck. Him."

“No—no! I didn’t even let him kiss me goodnight. Couldn't even get wet for him, that's how bad—Frankie, fuck! please!—bad you've got me fucked up."

He speeds up his hands, satisfied with your confessions. They are thrusting perfectly in and out at record speeds as his jaw clenched around your tit, watching your eyes roll back as your first orgasm in WEEKS overwhelms you fast. You’re shaking violently, legs desperate to close but Frankie pries them open with his strong hand, continuing to dominate your cunt with his incessant fingers.

You feel something else coming as he continues to ram his wrist against you, fingers digging so deep, curling so effortlessly that you can’t stop the gush of liquid squirting out of you. “Oh shit, oh fuckfuckFUCK that’s it! That’s my girl, holy fuck yeah—yeah keep going, Cariño, so fucking good.” He continues to finger fuck you repeatedly, working you through it as your pussy continues to contract and release your spend.

You hardly have time to process your embarrassment as he's shifting below your hips, throwing your thighs over shoulder and giving your soaked pussy a longing look. Your clit twitches excitedly. Cool air is blown on it, making you fist his hair harder. He presses his large nose into you, inhaling your scent like bloodhound, growling like a man possessed at the sticky coating. "I fucking missed you, Hermosa," he groans, and his mouth latched right on to your pulsing cunt. You gasp, hands fisting his hair as he rolls your overstimulated clit with his tongue, jaw opening wide to practically swallow your pussy whole, sucking away everything you're giving him.

Whether he was talking to you or your pussy, it didn’t really matter to you. All you could process was the rough feeling of his fat tongue and scruffy face rubbing perfectly between your legs as Frankie got reacquainted with his former addiction. "FrankieFrankieFranke-ohFUCK!"

You can’t stop him, can’t even warn him as the overstimulation send you into a fit of gasps, cumming again, legs squeezing his head as painful pleasure courses through you. His upper back is littered in your scratches, the red marks raising his skin like tiger stripes.

You're struggling to catch your breath with ragged moans. He slows his licks to draw it out, letting your spasms pass. His sinful, lidded eyes have never left your face, absorbing every reaction from you, committing it to memory.

"You really have neglected this poor pussy," he teases, kissing your clit as his fingers begin to spread your glistening folds once again.

You can only nod, arms covering your face as he starts to rub the pad of his thumb on your swollen nub again. “It’s—not as good—unless it’s you.”

He grits his teeth in satisfaction. “S’okay. M’ gonna take care of you now. Gonna fuck you real soon."

You whine when he pushes his fingers back in to your tight heat.

"And then, when I’m done fucking you—We're gonna fuck again," he laughs.

You’re a bit frightened with how he’s looking at you: like he’s fucking possessed by a hungry, malicious demon.

He makes you cum on his fingers again, then his lips, then both at once. He’s pinning you down so harshly, you have no choice but to take the endless barrage of orgasms he’s forcing from you, almost as if he’s trying to make up for the time you two have been apart. 

By the time his tastebuds are content, he brings himself back up to you, messily kissing your lips so you taste yourself, his beard and stache now soaked in your cum and rubbing along your chin.

You gasp when you feel his hard cock sliding along your folds. He rolls his hips against you, your copious slick letting him glide effortlessly, tip nudging your clit.

“Frankie,” you warn, unable to handle his teasing now.

He grabs the base of his dick. “Beg. Beg me for it,” He commands with a godly voice you’d never heard him use before. He slaps the underside of his throbbing member repeatedly against your pussy with a taptaptaptap. “Tell me you want it.”

You don’t care for the fat tears spilling down your cheeks as you whine like a bitch in heat. “Fuckyou, Frankie,” you seethe, anger building with your desperation. “I fucking want it, want it so bad, want you to ruin me, please, Fish, fucking please put it in already!”

He grins, big and sadistic as he watches your face contort with the first push of his tip into your wetness. “Oh F—“ he breathes, eyes closing as your tight walls do their best to accomodate his size.

Your eyesight is blurry, waves of pleasure rolling throughout your entire body, delirious as he bottoms out. Where he belongs. Where he’s always meant to be.

He presses his forehead to you as his hips start rutting.

He’s hardly fucked you for a few seconds, but the pressure building inside of you, desperate for this moment again after months, isn’t giving you a choice to savor it. “Fish—fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK! ‘M not gonna last!"

He growls excitedly, driving his cock more harshly into you, reaching that special spot he’s decided is only his to abuse. “It’s okay, babygirl. You cum for me. You're always so good at it."

And you are, you really are. “OH FUCK FRANKIE!” You scream. Your body agreeing with him so much that your abrupt orgasm squeezes around him so hard, his movements stop altogether.

“Oh shit—“ he hisses, your pussy greedily milking the cum right out of him. He only pauses for a moment, shaking over you for a moment as his first orgasm subsides before his hips are moving of their own accord, his cum forced out with each thrust.

“Keep goin’, pretty thing. Give me more,” he grunts. 

You nod deliriously, eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he pounds your battered puussy.

He pulls out, the sudden withdrawal making you whine with emptiness. He sinks to his knees again, yanking your knees up to your chest. Your pussy twitches, his cum spilling out and sinking down your ass.

He lets out of primal groan from the back of his throat before smashing his mouth on your cunt, sucking your clit and tongue fucking your hole like a cream filled pastry. You feel the descending bob of his Adam’s apple against your rear as he swallows the mixture of your cum, drinking it like liquid life from the source. “We taste—so—fucking—good, Princesa,” he taunts, tongue lapping your little clit in quick succession before shaking his head back and forth aggressively against your mound, smearing the obscene mixture across your folds and making a mess.

Oh fuck, he’s so gone.

He quickly gets on his knees, turning you over on your stomach like you weigh nothing. His hands grip around your hips, bringing them flush against his crotch again as you arch your back for him. He puts his palm on the small of your back, keeping you right there, pressed tight against him as his cock slides back into your eager and cum coated cunt.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, setting a faster pace this time. You hadn't realized just how much Frankie was holding back the first time you had sex. He leans over your body, hands splayed past your shoulders, fisting the bed as he rails you deep, his thighs crashing against you with harsh slaps. Your temple lands against his cheek, meeting eye contact. He smiles, breath caught in his throat like running a mile at your fucked out expression. 

He continues to fuck you like an animal. A soft hand grips your chin lovingly, tilting your head further back so his lips meet yours with each punishing grind. You’re surprised by how much you love the hold he has on you, willingly submitting to him without being told. Drunk on each other’s lust.

You suck greedily around his tongue, hand reaching behind the two of you to play with his soft brown curls, refusing to let him leave your mouth. He stutters with a few more thrusts before halting, eyes scrunched closed. “AUUGHHH—haaaahh!” You feel the twitch of him inside you, draining his balls some more of his plentiful seed. 

“Fuck, fuck I love it when you cum inside me!” You confess. The action makes you fall forward, mouth burying into his pillows as you muffle your own cry of your release again.

He pulls out of you and flops to the bed. You think maybe he is done, after having cum twice now, bur Frankie is quick to bring you to straddle him, his dick never once softening as it presses incessantly to your entrance again. He licks his lips, watching his cum spill down your thighs, right to his creamy cock that refuses to fully part from you. 

“Frankie,” you moan, unsure if you can take him again.

“Want you just like this. Ride me,” he breathes. He’s covered in sweat, out of breath and shaking with a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline if it were possible. His hands gently wrap around your waist as he guides you. Eyes so lidded, transfixed on the area where your mound slowly swallows him again.

You’re nodding, body taking over all actions, completely starved for the man under you. 

He leans up to get a good look at you, taking it slow, burning this in head to remember.

"Thought about you... everyday.” He whispers, mouth parted in lust, gliding your hips along with steady rolls. “Couldn't sleep."

His hands down along the curve of your ass, to your thighs spread out over him, before rubbing up the length of your back, holding you as close to him as he can possibly bring you, your tits pressing against his chest. He struggles to breathe evenly as your creamy pussy continues to tighten around him each time he breaches you, the two of you moaning softly into each others’ open mouths. He occasionally catches your lips, slotting perfectly as you grind against him.

His mouth finds its way back down to your pebbled nipple, biting gently before kissing it better. He brings his face back to yours. “So perfect for me,” he whispers.

You start grinding on him more fervently, lifting yourself on your knees ever slightly and baring down on him. He grits his teeth, sinking further down into the bed, eyes never leaving you as his digs his nails into the meat of your hips, forcing you to bounce harder. 

“That’s it, baby. Ride me just like that. MY girl, my beautiful girl.”

You bite your lips, feelings your clit catch on his public hairs. The sloppy squelching of his cum being driven out of your heat by his thick cock is no match to the heavenly sounds you were making atop him. The vein in his neck strains like he’s suffocating himself from air, refusing to slow down, to take a break, to let go for even just a moment.

“More. Give me more,” you moan, confidence soaring as you feel him begin to meet your hips with every thrust. “I want all of you, Frankie.”

He shouts out, lifting you up, his feet digging into mattress as he fucks you from below. “Fuck, fuck!”

You want to throw your head back, ride out this high, but the dangerous allure of him watching you brings your focus down to him, watching the way the two of you are getting off to the other falling apart.

“Just like this. You n’ me. Want it just like this. Forever.” He mumbles repeatedly, ragged pants uneven as he fills you the way you had been unknowingly wanting for months.  

You feel the build of your umpteenth orgasm building in your lower tummy. “Frankie-F-Franke! I’m—I’m gonna—“

“Do it, Querida, do it f-for me.” He thinks he can starve off the low build of his third orgasm of the night, just enough to make you cum for him once more.

You feel the heavy knot in your stomach snap. With absolutely no hesitation, no doubt behind your word, you cry out, “I love you!” as you cum harder than any time before.

Lifting you both practically off the bed, Frankie’s hips seize, pressed so tightly against yours there was no room between you. He shouts loudly, animalistic, snarling with his teeth baring at you and 0 control left in him, immediately emptying his load deep inside with each heavy pulse of his cock against your cervix, painting your walls white with the last of his cum that his balls could give you.

You collapse on top of him, the two of you sucking  air like you were underwater for years. Neither of you say anything, covered in sweat and cum, but finally being able to relax from the pent up release that’s been building there far longer than it ever should have been.

His hand rests against your lower back, somehow pressing your naked body closer to his. 

“I love you,” you whisper again to his collarbone. He brings your eyes to his, and this time he knows you mean it.

-

Frankie wakes to a cold bed.

His arm reaches out subconsciously for your body, but only feels cool empty sheets at his side. His eyes fly open, head sitting upright as he scans his bedroom. There's no sign of you. None of your clothes are scattered on the floor, no immediate trace of your scent. He feels a strong pain in his chest suffocating and stabbing him all at once.

He lies back flat on his pillow, fingers rubbing his forehead. He has two thoughts: the first thought, the one he'd rather think is true, is that it was all dream. You hadn't come home to him.

Before he could bring himself to consider the pain of the second thought, the fear is instantly squashed when he hears the door creak open, your sweet soft smile and gentle eyes landing on him.

‘Hiiiii,” you whisper in a singsong, gentle morning voice. Tip toeing bare foot on the hardwood floor, he see’s you’re dressed in nothing but one of Frankies slightly torn over sized, faded band T shirts that swallows your body. Your bed head still evident, eyes baggy yet happy from the events of last night.

He didn't realize he had held his breath the moment before you walked in, afraid that rather than having dreamt it all, that it did happen, and you had left him anyway.

"I made you tea," you hummed, setting the two cups down by his bedside table.

Your ears go red at the image of him: sheet pulled half way up his hip, his bare chest and torso visible as he props himself up with his elbows to get a good look at you. And the WAY he's looking at you, like you’re the only thing that matters in the world, has you sheepishly avoiding his big brown pupils, sliding in to the covers and nuzzling your head against his shoulder.

He wraps his arms around you, unwilling to let you sneak off again. “Don’t wake up before me like that again.”

You giggle. “Frankie, it’s 4 in the afternoon.” 

He checks his digital clock by the bed, true to your word. You both had fucked so hard, so long last night that he didn’t even realize it was well into the morning by the time you had drifted to sleep. 

He lies back down in bed, encircling you to him again. He can more clearly see the damage of last night’s episode on you: bite marks along your tits, hickies against your inner thighs and swollen lips. he doesn’t even need to touch your pussy, feeling its puffy soreness pressing against his leg. He kisses you gently yet passionately this morning, cradling your head so you can’t back away. Not that you want to—he doesn’t feel any resistance in your movements as you devour his lips. 

“I love you,” he says clearly. He can feel the way your breath hitches, the blush on your cheeks at the confession. “I love you, and I’m so sorry it took me so long to say it. I’m sorry I caused you so much confusion and I—“

“Okay, Fish. It’s okay. I know.” You bite your lip, pushing your hand against his chest so that he’s lying down on his back. “But I’m not sure I forgive you just yet.”

A brief moment of confusion wracks his face before you’re clambering on top of him again, your naked lower body straddling his under the sheet. You fist the t shirt of your head, letting your soft supple breasts fall. Frankie immediately grabs them tenderly with both of his warm hands, his breath quickening. His length twitches, hard as a rock and pressing right against his lower stomach as you glide your slick folds along him.

“I think you should keep making it up to me.” You align the tip of his throbbing cock against your swollen entrance and sink down, hands seeking purchase on his chest, scratching the skin there as he fills your sore cunt, taking him down to the hilt in one go.

You let out the tiniest, sexiest whimper, and Frankie is ready to drop everything he’s ever owned just to hear it again. So smitten with you, he’s grinning harder than he has his entire life. Like a big dumb idiot.

Your big dumb idiot.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Querida: I love you.”

Tagging people who either requested a part 2/3 or directly requested to be tagged. At least what i can remember (sorry if I missed you!)

- - - -

Series masterlist

Series Taglist: @paleidiot @pedropascalsbbg @tonakings @nerdieforpedro @thewritermj @ahintofkiwistrawberry @perfectly-imperfect-me23 @sammy-4103 @survivingandenduring @millercontracting @emilyjustemily @boiistfu @pedritoferg @missladym1981 @titlee78 @fairytale07 @multiplefandomwritings @steviesimp @marisemonteiroo @dilfluverrrrrrr @howdigetinhere @jessthebaker

Permanent Taglist: @harriedandharassed 

[hyperdramas]

kissable | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warnings: non-idol au, gym rat boyfriend!dokyeom, fluff, cute aggression (??), petnames ("sweetheart", honey"), kissing, kyeom is kissable and reader can't hold themselves back, lyr had too much fun describing dokyeom pt. 438934089320

Your boyfriend looked so kissable in this moment it was driving you insane.

Seokmin persuaded you (well, whined and got on his knees so practically begged you) to accompany him to the gym as you'd be a "wonderful motivation, and with his cute pleas and whiny tone you just couldn't say no.

Plus, he wasn't making you work out, and encouraged you to go in his oversized sweater and sweatpants, which you did. The whole drive there Seokmin was gushing about how excited he was to have you here with him, saying he'd do the best for you and only you (which made you nearly break at how cute he was).

If only you were God's strongest soldier.

Newsflash: you were not God's strongest soldier.

Everything was not in your favor: Seokmin was parading around the sweaty gym in a skimpy black tank top, muscled arms out for all to see as he walked to a rack of dumbells.

A sweat-drenched towel was resting around his neck in the most attractive way you've seen a towel used, and the beads of sweat and sheen covering Seokmin was making your cheeks burn up faster than your calories.

His vein-infused hands flexed as he grabbed the equipment, taut muscles tensing and releasing with each movement of his arm, and you swear you could see every vein from your vantage point⎯which was halfway across the room filled with tall equipment.

His ball cap sat low upon his face, but shielded nothing from your view: thick eyebrows furrowed with each stretch Seokmin followed, and he chewed at his lip as he heaved a sigh, pushing through the obvious pain as sweat dripped from his head, casting his face in a dewy glow.

Damn Seokmin for taking you here with him.

Damn him for being so breathtaking.

You spent the next hour and a half reassuring Seokmin you were doing okay without combusting mid-sentence with your hot, very kissable boyfriend being that close to you, and you breathed a small sigh of relief when he came up to you⎯still covered in sweat, by the way⎯telling you that he was done for the day and was ready to head home. 

You were quiet all the way home, and Seokmin knew something was bothering you, but didn't know what exactly. He thought that maybe you actually didn't want to come to the gym with him, or you were angry that he ignored you half of the time he was doing his workouts: he swore he made time to check in on you and talk with you when he was taking a quick breather, but maybe he didn't do that enough? He honestly didn't know what was wrong.

"Sweetheart⎯are you okay?" Seokmin called from the kitchen, searching the fridge for a snack as you two decided what to order for dinner.

You, on the other hand, were in Lalaland, thoughts overflowing with Seokmin's massive, flexing muscles and pure dedication he had during his workouts.

"Huh? What? Oh, I'm doing great." It was a lie, and you knew it, but what were you supposed to tell your adorable dork of a boyfriend who probably had little to no idea he was doing this to you.

Seokmin sighed to himself, settling on a water and a basket of strawberries as he came to the living room, sitting down beside you as you kept your eyes focused on the television.

"Sweetheart," Seokmin whined, taking your hand in his as he munches on a strawberry, also looking adorable in the process. His lips were stained red by the dark strawberry juice, and he licked them subconsciously, staring at you with worried chestnut-colored eyes.

God, why was your boyfriend so perfect?

Your face was heating up at how close Seokmin was to you, and you suddenly became conscious of everything around you, noticing how slow the clock ticked to the small crack in your window's blinds. Fiddling with Seokmin's ring absentmindedly, you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself, knowing if Seokmin even started to ask you what was wrong you'd explode.

"Honey, please say something." Seokmin's voice was desperate, and as you predicted⎯you couldn't hold back.

"Seokmin, you looked so, so, so good while at the gym today. I was nervous the whole time and couldn't even keep my eyes off of you, you know that? I was holding my contagious giggling all the way home because you were that hot, and I wanted to kiss you so bad, I⎯"

Before you can finish your rambling, Seokmin smashes his lips on yours, hands on the sides of your body as he closes his eyes. Finally smiling for the first time in almost two hours, you kiss him back, overwhelming feelings of love and adoration going out of you and into Seokmin.

The two of you fell back onto the couch with your hands entangled in Seokmin's dark brown, slightly wet locks while he fell back with you calmly. Pulling away, Seokmin's eyes met yours in a heartbeat, smile uncontained as his cheeks blare a cherry red.

"Sweetheart, is that what it was?" Seokmin's voice was light and playful, and you nodded, smiling out of embarrassment as Seokmin chuckled at you, smile lines you adored peaking at you as he laughed.

"Yes, Seokmin: you were so pretty, handsome, stunning, and cool lifting those weights, doing push-ups, lunging, and walking on the treadmill with ease, I didn't know how to be normal and hold myself back properly. You were so, so kissable in every moment in that gym, I had to restrain myself from walking up to you and kissing you so hard you fell to the ground," You laughed nervously, and Seokmin pushes his hair from his face, still reeling over your confession.

"How can one be pretty and handsome at the same time?" He questions innocently, and you shake your head, bringing your lips to his again for a few seconds before you pull away.

"I don't know, but you can." You laugh, and Seokmin wheezes quietly, eyes disappearing into sparkling crescents as he kisses you again.

"Thank you." He smiles, and you nod, kissing his sharp nose and fluffy lips as he chuckles at your soft display of affection.

"Of course, Min."

[pinkslipxox]

Ocean Eyes:

Summary: Miko surprises you by taking you to a Billie Eilish concert and you meet her

Warnings: fluff, slight mention of smut, Billie lowkey flirting with you😚

——————————————————————————

Your heart was beating out of your chest.

Tonight Miko gave you the surprise of your life by taking you to a Billie Eilish concert. Wearing hoodies and sweats to evade the attention from the event, you stood in the front row amongst the excited, screaming fans. Miko had her arms wrapped around you protectively the whole time, her hands moving to your hips every now and then so you could jump and cheer. Billie was your favorite artist (next to your girlfriend, of course) and to be there in the audience was a dream come true.

Like the dedicated fan you were, you sang along to every song that Billie sang. Laughed at every joke she told during a break in between songs. You were having the absolute time of you life, and you swore that she sounded more beautiful and ethereal in person.

And if things couldn’t get any better, Miko said that she had another surprise up her sleeve. Which brings you to the reason why you were in backstage in the first place. In a matter of moments, you were about to meet the Billie motherfucking Eilish.

“There she is!” you gasped, a mixture of excitement and anticipation building up inside you as you squeezed Miko’s arm.

Billie stepped down the stairs, hugging and high-fiving her team as she made her way over to you two. She was clad in an oversized white t-shirt, baggy blue jeans with a red bandana and black baseball cap to complete her look. You couldn’t help but stare. God, she looked incredible. Even more so in person.

“Miko! Long time no see,” Billie greeted, giving your girlfriend a friendly hug.

“Definitely. You killed it out there!” Miko praised, grinning proudly at her friend.

Then, Billie smiled at you, her ocean blue eyes looking into yours. “And who might this pretty girl be?”

“This is Y/N. She’s my girlfriend, and a big fan of yours,” Miko introduced you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

“Hey, beautiful,” Billie greeted you, her arms stretched out, and for a moment you were frozen before wrapping your own arms around her.

“H-hi,” you stuttered, starstruck, and Billie laughed softly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard many good things about you,” Billie said as the two of you pulled away from your embrace.

“You have?” you squeaked, looking at your smirking girlfriend and then at Billie.

“Of course! Right, Miko?” Billie chuckled.

“Hell yeah, Bills,” Miko confirmed, and your cheeks flushed.

“C-can we get a picture?” you asked, wanting to advert the subject, and Billie obliged.

You took various pictures with Billie. Including some with Miko. It all happened in a blur, yet you knew that the memories being made and the picture would be proof that your meeting with Billie was unforgettable.

“I’m in town for the next three days. We should get together sometime— all three of us,” Billie mused, shooting a wink at you, and you felt heat crawl up your neck.

Miko smirked. “It’s a date.”

You were speechless. Just as you were beginning to process what the fuck had just happened, Billie was called over by Finneas. Before she left, Billie hugged you and Miko goodbye, promising to text tomorrow morning with further details.

“You good there, baby?” Miko asked with a knowing smirk on her lips as you two walked out of the venue.

“What. The fuck. Just happened?” you breathed, almost breathlessly.

“You met Billie Eilish, mama. And we got a date out of it,” Miko chuckled.

You bit your lip. “We did… didn’t we?”

“Damn right we did,” Miko murmured. She then stopped walking and pulled you inside her arms. Her mouth close to your ear, her lips barely brushing, she whispered, “Eres tan preciosa cuando te pones pachosa, mami.”

Before you could even answer, her lips were passionately pressed on yours. You knew you had a lot to thank Miko for. And you definitely showed your gratitude towards her the moment you returned home.

[acesofspadess]

Rewind

I definitely published this a bit out of order but bare with me

“Hello Team Niall.” Niall introduced as they all waved and greeted him back. “Well, I've got a bit of news for you. Because of my concert schedule, I actually won't be in town for knockout rehearsals.” Everyone was shocked… and rightfully so. “Because I won't be there, I've chosen another coach to come in and mentor you guys for rehearsal.” Everyone started to freak out wondering who on earth it might be. 

“And they have been in your place before so I think they’ve got exactly what you need.”

The scene changed to the all too familiar practice room with an empty directors chairs. The sounds of steps progressively got louder until the special person appeared. 

“I'M BACK!” 

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's rewind a bit.

~~~~~~

A day or two after The Voice Finale

“Hi I’m Maia Quinn, and I'm the Season 23 winner of The Voice, and we're hanging out with Rob on Front Row Live.”

“Go with me.” Niall moaned into your mouth as you straddled him. “Where?” you question kissing down his neck. “Boston. I know it's last minute and we’d leave in the morning-” you shut him up with a kiss and a roll of your hips, his hands tightening against your thighs. “Just wake me up an hour before we leave.”

Sitting at the desk of you and Niall’s shared hotel room the morning of May 26th  you had early interviews to get through before you were meant to go to the festival. You looked over the camera to see Niall already looking at you.

“Maia congratulations. What a night you had a few nights ago.” Rob praised and you smiled adjusting your airpod. “I am super excited for you and your career and your future. Especially because you're starting so young. You have enough time to kind of like, continue to evolve, and understand your voice; learn a lot more about yourself throughout this process. Talk to me about this process of your experience here on the voice and how you've evolved as a vocalist and a performer.” The interview was more than you could ever imagine. 

“Now your relationship with Niall this season has had fans going crazy. From the after performance hugs to the duet, and the after party, what can you tell us about that?”

You saw Nialls face peak over the laptop screen and stayed neutral. “Niall has been the most supportive and very encouraging. He has become one of my best friends through this whole journey. I lost a lot of my confidence during the pandemic unfortunately. It made me think that I would never be able to do things that I certainly could do and Niall- all these years later- has been there to remind me that I probably can do them, and then make me do it. So our friendship and relationship has been so important to me. He is my best friend across the charts and he’d hate me for saying this, but I wouldn't be here without him.” 

“Last question before we go. Is there anything we can look forward to seeing soon? Maybe another EP?”

You smiled glad you were able to share some information on what was coming next. “All I'll say now is, look for me on stage back home.” you winked dramatically knowing those who would get it would get it.”

“That's amazing, I'll definitely keep my eyes peeled. It was so great having you on. I hope to see you in person soon.”

“Bye!” 

``````````````

View comments

User10 i'm actually really happy she won

User2 wait…Slane is in Ireland…..

User6 I just learned she had an EP…. what?!?!?!?

Being at Boston Calling with him

“Boston, Massachusetts, how you doing?” he asked the crowd after he finished ‘Heaven’. The loud response made him smile excitedly. “Holy shit! This is crazy.” you face palmed knowing he was going to slip up sooner or later. “Thank you all so much for coming out to see me. I really appreciate it.” they cheered again as he sipped his water. You watched as he looked at the amount of people and a smile formed on your face.

 “This is uhm- this is actually my first ever Festival.” he let out a breath at the realisation. “I've definitely been drunk at a few.” you laughed at him with the rest of the crowd. “But I've never played at any and for that reason I'm absolutely shitting myself.” he said looking at you knowing you would calm him, and him seeing you laugh did just the trick. 

“But thank you for being here. I know some of you guys have been queuing for years.” he looked around at the signs “My girlfriend showed me this earlier ‘i travelled four thousand miles to be here from Brazil’ your eyes went wide at the declaration and the deafening screams were present. He subtly looked in your direction and saw your reaction, his worry diminished as he saw you smiling making him smile. “Makes you feel bad from coming just down the road doesn't it? ‘I came from round New York’.” he mocked, “awe who cares.” he laughed with them and you hid a big smile behind your hands. 

~~~~

You walked the same route you came flashing your pass when you reached the gate and made your way in to see Niall. When you saw him you squealed and ran over to him. He turned when he heard you and caught you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he spun you both around hands on the swell of your bum.

“I'm so proud of you!” you screamed and he laughed before he was kissing you passionately. It was quick as many more pecks through giggles followed. “I can not explain to you how happy i am.” he whispered in shock as you were sitting in the trailer behind the stage and he was getting changed. “You should be so happy, my love. That was incredible, and I am so so proud of you.” he smiled at you before grabbing your hand and kissing the ring on it. “You make me so happy, baby girl.” you melted at his words and stood up to kiss him softly. “And you make me the happiest girl, Ni.”

You surprising Niall at his Zane Lowe interview and him outing you 

You knew Niall was disappointed when you told him you wouldn't be able to make it to his Zane Lowe interview today. He was really excited for this one and wanted you to be there. It was only a few days later that you flew from Boston down to LA for the interview. You were working on last minute stuff for the announcement today and you were nowhere close to done when he was getting ready to leave.

“I'm sorry love.” you kissed his pout away as you both stood by the door of his  LA house. “I know, it’s okay. I know why you can’t make it, and for that I am so very proud.” he melted his lips against yours as your hands went to the curls on the back of his neck and he wrapped his went straight to your bum.

~~~

Niall was watching Zane play his songs and the guitar with a big smile a few hours after he left. “There are some pretty songs on this record bro.” Zane complimented as he switched playing from ‘The Show’ to ‘You could start a cult’. You who had just made it into the studio to surprise Niall were standing behind the glass watching him, waiting for him to notice. 

“Thank you very much.'' He cut through Zanes music. “This one kills me.” Zane admitted as Niall caught on to what he was playing. “Yeah.” he cheered Zane on softly, finally noticing you. You saw his smile widened and you waved softly. “You Could Start A Cult.” he named distractedly, still looking at you as if he looked away you would disappear. 

~~~

“Kingdoms fighting over you,” Niall continued. “I think that like they’re the ones- that could have very easily been, ‘ i like waking up beside you and you're my favourite person.” he joked easily. “But ‘you could start a war’.” you shook your head at his lyrical genius. “Do you ever crack yourself up with it?”

‘Yeah it was something silly at first but now everyone's obsessed with it. It started with me and my girlfriend now, when we met we would watch crime shows together over facetime,” he exposed and you chuckled at his laugh.

‘You say girlfriend now, sorry if i'm over stepping but..” zane trailed off

“No,” he shrugged off looking at you, who nodded, “she was not my girlfriend at the time, she is now, is what that meant.”

“So did she not know the song was for her?”

“She didn't know any song was for her- or about her I should say. The road from when we met to now has been a very dark windy tunnel, but we made it to the other end.”

“That's beautiful Niall, truly.” You smiled at him agreeing with Zane.

“This was the last song on the record that we wrote.” Niall confessed, and you wondered why. “Why, what was missing?” and without hesitation he pointed to you, “her.” Zane looked to where he was pointing and you waved happily at him. He waved back to you just as happy before turning to Niall with a face of shock. “No?” he gasped and Niall laughed, throwing his head back. “Yeah, I know. Way out of my league.” he watched you shake your head with an eye roll and he couldn't stop the smile from gracing his face.

“I could’ve gone and did what I did with the rest of the record and put BV’s all over it and strings and that was my plan - and John just said to me- because we we were not talking at the time…” he pointed between you and him, “...this is your message to,” he paused, ‘“ her’ keep it that way. Just you and your guitar and your feelings.”

And while there's much much more… you’ll see that soon