#and today my head / eyes / face hurt and my brain is mush

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

doomsday ◦ h.j

—Sometimes doomsday wasn't the crumbling of a city; doomsday was an apocalypse of the mind

@anon im so glad you requested this bc I literally loved writing it so much like it fr had my creative juices FLOWING so feel free to request anytime babes

Paring ◦ Han x reader

Words ◦ 5231

Genre ◦ Hurt and comfort, ngl this angsty asf

Warnings ◦ han is a dick at the beginning but he is redeemed, panic attacks, language (like fr so many fucks in this its wild), talk about wasting your life, anxiety, fear, han is such a cunt at first its insane, not edited, uhhh I think that's it.

A/N ◦ This one is chaotic asf so if you don't like my chaotic writing this is definitely where you might wanna click off 💀ALSO IF YOU LIKED THIS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME like it literally doesn't have to be much you can just be like it was pretty cool

~CookieCreates🍪

Sometimes it felt like Han gave away the numbers of the clock like dollar bills, bartering off a life that only ever seemed to be rushing away like a river roaring down the rocks too fast. He scoops little moments out from the shimmering rapids, but time still trickles between his fingers; the hours melting together like wax dripping down the spindly hands, its bony fingers-

reaching

reaching

r e a c h i n g

out to him, pulling him into a pool at the bottom of his feet, a pool of glittering, glowing memories.

Is this all life is?

Working

Stressing

Never sleeping

Never eating

Is the praise worth it?

Those hopeless nights, endless days, tired eyes, and a mind made of mush—was it all worth it?

Was any of it worth it?

The roar of the crowds drowning out the sound of the seconds-

tick

tick

ticking away, the shuffle of the sand seeping into the bottom of the hourglass—he taps the crystal dome, wondering how much of it is left—wondering when it all will stop.

When he can stop.

Han was a fizzing bottle of soda—shook for too long—today was hard; every day before a comeback is: producing, singing, dancing, learning, watching, waiting-

Checking off boxes on a list that never ended, so when he finally walks into the door of your shared apartment, a room he feels like he hasn't seen in weeks, he doesn't really notice you anxiously sitting on the couch, your knees bouncing on the floor mindlessly-

snapping

snapping

snapping

on the linoleum, something so simple shouldn't set him off, sure, but the sound was so familiar—so scary—it vibrated in his head, booming in his brain seconds-

ticking

ticking

ticking away

your feet

snapping

snapping

snapping on the ground.

He comes home to get away from the world rushing out from under him, so why were you sitting there being so fucking-

“Hannie!” You beam, sprinting over to throw your arms around his neck, breathing his scent in. It feels like centuries since you've seen him last. You vibrate with nervous, excited energy, practically bouncing up and down; but the thing was, right now he didn't want to be touched.

He didn't want to be held

He didn't want to have to talk

He didn't want to have to remember he had a life outside of the bubble that was his work. It felt like he was tending to gardens he didn't know how to grow. Your relationship had already sprouted; the seed planted a while ago, but even though the delicate stages of its development had passed, that didn't mean that it still didn't have to be cared for, and right now, he didn't care about anything. 

It was selfish, sure, but when you've spent your whole life giving parts of yourself away, selfishness seems so easy, at least while you still have small slivers of your soul left. 

He grates his teeth, everything seeming so wholly overwhelming, the walls encapsulating him in an unbreakable hourglass. He was so stressed, so tired, so done, so trapped. His breath stutters when you squeeze him tighter, nuzzling your nose against his shirt, staring up at him expectantly, eyes shimmering. 

"I haven't hugged you in forever I missed your face" you giggle voice like clouds of cotton candy but not quite sweet enough to dull the sour feeling settling in his stomach

He knows that love should never feel this hard, but right now everything he did felt hard, and the way you stare at him so longingly like you're going to combust if he doesn't perform, put on a fake smile, and act like everything is okay makes him feel like a fizzing bottle of soda with a lid screwed on too tight, and when you grip him tighter, trying to push an answer out of him

He flips his lid. 

"Holy shit, y/n, do you have to be so bombarding?" He snaps, pushing your arms away from him, almost looking disgusted. Your smile slips, staring at him in shock, still not really registering what he said. 

He doesn't know what feels worse—the way your features tremble with hurt or the way he knows he doesn't care. 

"I'm tired; I just want to go to bed, okay, and you are immediately rushing me; every day as soon as I get through the door, it's exhausting."

"You can't be serious," you whisper, genuinely believing what you said. He couldn't be serious. There was no way in hell he really believed that, but it didn't matter if he believed it or not; it all still hurt the same.

He wishes he could overlook the flames that flare in your eyes, consuming the stars that always seemed to shimmer.

What did he just do?

He sighs, collapsing onto the couch, digging the palms of his hands into his drooping eyes. He was so scared; the fear loosing his lips and everybody knows words of fear are the greatest lies. 

"Yes, I'm serious. Do you know how much work you are? I work all day, work, work, work, work everybody needs me always wanting, always needing something, something, fucking something," he growls, smacking his hands against his thighs, thrown into an unexplainable rage. "And as soon as I get home, you need me too; everybody is so fucking needy." The next words he says feel like an earthquake erupted in your soul, splitting your heart in two. 

"Your so fuckin' needy."

You flutter your eyelashes shut, pushing back emotions that boil in your brain. There are so many feelings fighting for the light, but instead of screaming, crying, or lashing out, you take a deep breath and fold your arms, calmly asking 

"Then why don't you just break up with me then?" There is nothing more terrifying than a woman whose fire rages behind a veil of ice, but when he looks up, watching the flames wrap around your posture, wisping around every edge of your bones, and even with the ashes of the love you once had for him fluttering in the wind, he still opens his big, fat, fucking mouth. 

"Or maybe I should have just never asked you out in the first place." No sooner did he spit the sentence out, did he want to shove it right back in his mouth. Your shoulders droop, eyes filling with an almost impossible amount of pain.

The earth crumbles, the walls of your shared home collapsing around you, rubble lost in all the memories that flicker away like embers floating from the burning configuration that was your relationship. It was ironic how the world worked; it took years to build up the love you felt and only a single sentence to wash it all away. You never thought you would see armageddon, but when those letters left his lips, you quickly realized sometimes doomsday wasn't the crumbling of a city; doomsday was an apocalypse of the mind. 

"Okay," you croak, hot tears streaming down your face; a wobbly smile pulls at your lips almost out of habit, facial muscles forced out of memory. 

You have never once imagined yourself drowning under so many words left unsaid, sinking in the waves of tears you fought back, and as you trudged up the stairs, sinking into your bed, you wondered when you would hear the begrudging footsteps—the hesitant knocks. Wondered when you'd hear his soft apology—a voice racked with guilt—but your fantasy never came.

All you heard was the clicking of the clock behind you, counting down the hours where he disappointed you again and again

You don't know what got to you first—the peirce of realization that he didn't regret the bitter insults that left his lips so easily or when you saw the calendar that peaked from the corner of your closet-

5 days

5 days left unmarked

5 days left blank

5 days until you celebrated your 3 year anniversary

Han Jisung would never know you were counting down the days

Han should have runned after you, and in perspective, after a good night's sleep and a nice warm meal, he has never felt so completely stupid for not, but after you trudged up the stairs with a pained smile and glassy eyes, he was so starkly shocked he had said something so disgustingly distasteful his feet stuck to the ground, and finally, after hours of staring at the pool of time bubbling by his shoes, he drifted into a restless sleep. 

It was as though his terror tainted him, making the glassy parts of his heart dirty, and when he took the edge off, it was like a harsh wipe away at all the murk, revealing his jarring reflection in the pearly mirror.

He was such a jerk

He whimpers, running anxious fingers through his hair. He has no viable excuse, no good reason why he treated you so poorly—for someone so obsessed with time, he should know that you can't get your life back—can't turn the hands of the clock 

Push rewind

Hit replay

For what value would life be if you could just start it all over again? The impossibility made all the precious moments sweeter, but like every good thing, it made memories like these all the more foul.

You didn't deserve that

He didn't deserve you

and as you slink down the stairs, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. He can't stop that booming voice biting at the back of his brain.

How long will it take you before you realize that too?

You flick your gaze to him, burning with loathing cloaked behind layers of indifference. It floors him—those subtle signs of hatred that swim in the back of your eyelids, hidden in small twitches of your features, your almost tangibly cut off, throwing up your walls, shutting him out in more ways than one.

He had always worried about the gardens he was growing; flowers that sprung around him rapidly, fighting to figure out which one to water first, and all while your petals wilted and your roots curled up-

You waited

You watched as he bled himself dry. He shutters, everything bursting before his eyes—the love you once had for him flickering like the last flashes of a dying star. You're a million miles away, dancing on the craters of the moon, fluttering around the twinkling rings of Saturn. He folds himself deeper into the couch, almost hoping it will swallow him whole—pull him into the burning inferno beneath—even hell would be cooler than the fire that was your gaze.  Han Jisung never thought he'd see the day when the galaxy would collapse, but staring at you, flaring your final goodbyes, he realizes that doomsday was closer than he thought. 

"Baby," he whispers, his voice heavy with guilt, how easy it is to start a fire when you don't care about putting it out, but now that the wisps of flame consume you, he wishes he had never given you the kindling. 

You don't look at him as you walk around the kitchen, pouring a bowl of cereal. He stands up hesitantly, anguish feeling like an iron rod through his chest. He creeps into the kitchen, stepping lightly into the room like it's laced with landmines. 

"Please." His voice cracks—splits right down the middle, a perfect reflection of the cleave that was his soul. "I'm so sorry."

You place the cereal back in the cabinet and open the fridge to retrieve the milk.

The silence is deafening.

The all too familiar-

tick

tick

tick

of time trickling away rings in his ears

How much more of it does he have left?

How much more of this silence can he take?

You ignore him, strolling right past his trembling frame, racked with regret. It pulsates off his in palpable waves. You're so nonchalant so careless. He almost wants you to turn around and smack him, throw that stupid bowl of cereal in his face. Instead, you jog up the stairs, slamming the door behind you.

Is that the only door you shut?

Han had always thought of the apocalypse as an idea only found in novels, tucked away behind the pages of a book, hidden in the comfortable corner of science fiction, because that's all it was, right— fiction? But as your dead eyes scrape his figure up and down, he realizes that Doomsday wasn't really fiction at all. Just like the world wasn't always a place, sometimes the world was a person, and right now his world was ravaged by a deadly disease, an illness that only infected the soul, an illness only transferred through the careless bitter words found in the English language. Fire was nature's greatest purifier, and sure, the walls of the home he lived in weren't warped with flames of your fury, but the home he had made in your heart was 

It's been 3 days

3 days since he's felt the touch of another human. 

3 days since he made the biggest mistake of his lifetime.

3 days since he dropped a devasting bomb on your relationship, and the shrapnel was finally hitting him; curled pieces of cold metal lodged somewhere in between the folds of his soul. 

3 brutal bone-crushing days of pure ear-splitting silence—It was almost scientifically impossible, just how quiet you were. It was an art really, every brush of anguish accurately painted on—every ignored apology, every piercing glare, every single star that flickered out in your eyes. You were strategic, meticulous, you were plain vicious-

and you had every right to be.

You were fully justified in your actions, and yet he felt like he was still teetering over the edge of madness. The thought of losing you like a noose snaking around his neck, choking him in an unadulterated form of terror 

He has been stricken by anxiety his whole life, but the thought of a world without you filled him with an inexplicable amount of fear—the kind that burrows in your bones, decaying in your soul—the kind of terror that your still stuck digging from your skin for centuries to come—the kind of fear that makes you simply

panic.

His hands shake as he pushes the door open, feeling like he's walking into an open war. The pages of a dystopia form walls around him, caging him inside a bombarding capsule of storming English. 

The harsh contrast of the hurricane in his mind and the indifference in your eyes sends him reeling. You were lying on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels, not sparing him a glance.

You were so beautiful so breathtaking, but for once, he wasn't admiring your beauty.

He was

falling

apart. 

Oh, fuck, he was freaking out. 

He had finally caved under the pressure of always having to perform a false, flimsy smile, wobbling on his lips, pretending to be okay as he watched the life drain out of your eyes; the passion seeping from his songs.

He loved making music, but what is art without chaos?

What is beauty without love?

What is the world without you?

He always had to be perfect; he always had to be put together. He was always running on all cylinders, always hanging on by a fraying straining thread, and finally, it snapped. 

The earth is

t i l t i n g,

flipping around,

turning upside down, and

i n s i d e o u t.

Guilt rips through his chest, yanking out harsh bouts of oxygen from his constricting lungs. 

He can't breathe

He can't breathe

He can't breathe

He can't fucking

b

r

e

a

t

h

e

He was going to die-

He was going to collapse into himself, busting into a flaring supernova. 

He was going to be his own demise-

Forming his own doomsday-

He has never thought of himself as an author, but before he could stop his mouth from moving, he was already caged between the sentences of his own personal apocalypse, living a waking nightmare.

He created a story with his stupidity, and now he has to pay the price. 

He was the end of your relationship-

what has he done?

He can't b r e a t h e

"Y-Y/n I can't," he choked on his words, watching the walls wash away like watercolor dripping down the page. 

He can't lose you

He can't lose you

He can't lose you

He's going to die

He stumbles into the living room, tripping over his feet, his breath staggering in his throat. He catches himself on the arm of the couch, digging his nails into the soft leather, gripping it like it was his tether, keeping him from floating into space—burning up in the atmosphere, his body bouncing around the icy rocks. 

"Fuck," he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut and clawing at his chest, almost as if he scratches his skin hard enough, he can finally pull out the hourglass that keeps ticking his time away. His heart pounded wildly, almost begging to be free from the confines of his ribcage. The fact that it was still beating was beyond him. 

His heart only beats for you.

His heart will only ever beat for you.

How was he alive when you were drifting away? moon dust dancing in your lungs, would you become a ruler of the skies, while he was still stood still? 

"Han," your voice sounds like cotton candy kisses and honey dribbles. He never thought he would ever be so happy to hear somebody so alarmed, but right now that was the only thing keeping him from shattering. 

You jump up from the couch, your face pulled in concern. 

He doesn't deserve it

Doesn't deserve it

Doesn't deserve it

He's drowning in a pool of his self-inflicted sorrows. He's sinking, and the only thing that could save him was you. 

How do you save a man who won't take your hand?

"N-No, im okay," he barley pushes the words out, weaving between the thick lump that's forming in his throat. 

It was a lie

Everything was a lie

That's all he was

a liar

"Han," your voice is warm and inviting, sucking him in, wrapping around him like a blanket in the cold, a bowl of soup to a sick stomach. You healed him even when he was the one who created the wound. You pull him in, taking his trembling frame into your arms. Gentle fingers thread through his hair as soft lullabied wispers float through the air.

He feels so safe

So secure-

So loved-

He never thought he would feel the tenderness of your touch again, so when your comforting arms squeeze him right off the edge of destruction, 

He

c o l l a p s e s

crumbling into a million sobbing, sniveling pieces before you, he sinks to the ground, dragging you along with him. 

He always brought you down-

Always took you with him-

He was a disease-

An infection-

He was your armageddon

He sags against your body, limply moving like a rag doll. You let him curl into your chest, holding him like pieces of pierced punctuation. 

You guys were a shattered semicolon inverted and upside down. 

There was so much he wanted to say—so many apologies, so many explanations, so many different synonyms for sorry—but you didn't need them; you never needed them; you needed him, and there was nothing he could ever say that would change that. 

You hum, rubbing soothing circles on his back. You were always the perfect metaphor, a marveling form of pristine poetry. Your touch was like fleeting promises on the skin, the delicate tickle of a blooming flower, the comfortable heat of a burning star. You weren't just his world; you were his universe.

He pulls you closer to him, clinging like a desperate dying animal, nuzzling his face in your neck. 

"I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so fucking sorry!" He blubbers the sentences onto your skin, as though the deeper he burrows into your body, the faster they can travel to your heart. 

"Han," you lull, a small smile grazing your face, physically having to claw him off of you. He does begrudgingly, a minuscule whimper tumbling out of his throat from the lack of contact; he doesn't meet your eyes. He can't—not when the clock still ticks your time away, not when he's still not fully sure that you're willing to turn the hands back. 

He's devastated, his eyes red and puffy with tears that cascade down his cheeks, shining in the overhead light. 

"Please don't leave me." He sniffles, rubbing his nose against the fabric of his shirt, bottom lip trembling. "I don't want our time to run out. All my time is running out. Everything is running out. I can't, I-" he stutters, tripping over letters that latch onto his teeth like cactuses digging into his lips. 

You furrow your brows, tilting your head in sympathetic confusion. "What do you mean, baby?"

He screws his eyes shut, his hands shaking almost aggressively on his thighs. Why did he say anything? How does he explain something like that? He tries to form the words on his tongue, but they stick to the roof of his mouth like glue. Speaking it into the universe makes it so much more real, so much more raw, because now it isn't a metaphor, a fictional little whisper that fucks with his mind. 

The earth quivers in its orbit as he opens his mouth-

Was he really going to admit this?

Was he even ready to admit this?

"It feels like my life is running out," he stammers, the words tasting so sour on his tongue. "My life is so stressful; everybody always needs something from me, and sometimes it feels like I'm dishing out so many slivers of my soul that I don't even have any of it left." He lets out a shaky breath, attempting to get his heart rate somewhere that resembles normal. 

"I'm always up, always working, always doing something, and it's scary to think while I'm wasting my life working so hard doing something I don't really love." He aggressively wipes the tear that drops down his cheek with the palm of his hand. "It's so scary wondering if I'm ever making the right decisions." 

He feels so small under your gaze.

"A-And the other day was so hard," he cries, fresh waves of tears blurring his vision as he reminisces on the events. 

"Everybody was yelling at me, always needing something demanding so fucking much; they were playing puppet, forcing my hands in a way they didn't want to move; everybody was so just so needy-"

"And so was I," you whisper, filled with guilt. It breaks him. Your so understanding, so loving, so forgiving, so perfect. 

How did he even get you?

His heart wrenches as he dives into your arms-

"No, no, no, no," he shouts, shaking his head against your shirt. "No, love, you didn't do anything wrong; it was me. Me and my shitty mood—it was all my fault. I blew up at you. You were trying to be the amazing, loving girlfriend you are, and what I said was solely because of my fear. The exhaustion and anger didn't exactly help either"

"But there are no more buts," he pulls away, catching your eyes burning with sincerity. "There is no excuse for the way I treated you; there is no justification, just explanation."

You smile, tilting your head in adoration. You would be lying if you didn't say you were relieved, because you were.  You thought he believed the words he said—what feels like forever ago—that you were the annoying, needy girlfriend that only ever bugged him, but he didn't believe what he said. No, he was just a ticking time bomb waiting to blow—a ball of stressed and nervous energy channeled into the wrong source. 

"It's okay, Hannie, really, we're okay"

He was a supernova—a burning, bursting flame of bright, beautiful colors 

Han had once thought that the stars in your eyes had flickered away, but now he knows even the most enchanting things have to die before they can transform. 

He loves you.

He has loved you for 2 years and 363 days.

He will love you until the world goes up in flames. 

He will love you until the planet bleeds with the wounds of armageddon. 

"Does this mean we can still celebrate our 3-year anniversary?" He asks sheepishly, looking up at you through fluttering eyelashes. You perk up, visibly brightening. 

"You remembered!"

"I never forgot." he smiles, eyes shimmering with hope.

"I've been counting down the days," you grin.

"So have I," but he hasn't been counting down the days until you celebrate 3 beautiful years on this planet together. No, he's been counting down the days until his body slips into the grave, but as he presses his ear to your heart, it feels like the steady beats were a swelling symphony orchestrated just for him. He sighs contently, nuzzling deeper into your chest. The terrifying tick of the clock faded away, drowned out by the song of your soul whispering sweet promises into his ear. Sure, the fear still tickled the back of his brain, but instead of worrying that time was trickling away, he pulls you closer because with you, there was never a wasted moment. 

©CookieCreates (posted: July, 9th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately

~cookie🍪

[fettuccin-e]

As Long As I Want

so yeah i may have not posted a fic in two months and WHATABOUTIT no i'm kidding i'm really sorry for the little hiatus!! my pedro pascal obsession circa 2021 has relapsed and i'm terribly sorry lol so yeah pls enjoy this short little fic that is only about sucking frankie's dick

Tags: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader, fem!reader, oral (m!recieving), size kink, deep throating, this is so nasty lol (w/c: 1.5K)

Francisco Morales is a pretty unassuming man. He’s tall and lumbering, but his patchy beard and ever-present baseball cap allow him to sink into the background of most things, which is exactly where he likes to be. He isn’t a standout, he knows that, and he’s plenty content with it. As long as you love him, he’s just fine.

And you do, god, you love him. You try to tell him constantly, try to express how fucking hot you find him, even if he shrugs you off with a shy chuckle and a blush on his scruffy cheeks. With his pretty dark eyes and soft hair, how he towers over you and how his broad chest presses against your back when he hugs you from behind, and when he fucks you from behind. Frankie is, by far, the sexiest man you’ve ever seen, and somehow, he’s yours.

And, as unassuming as he is, Frankie also has the fattest, biggest cock you’ve ever seen.

He hides it behind baggy jeans and boxers, but you pride yourself on being very, very familiar with it. It took the first six months of your relationship to take it all the way into your cunt, the thickness of it stretching you till you thought you were bound to break, the length of it bullying so deep you thought you would feel it in your fucking throat. Even now, four years later, you still need to be prepared thoroughly before taking Frankie, a process that he takes great joy in.

Frankie will spend hours between your thighs, sucking at your clit and fucking you open on his calloused fingers until you’re sobbing and shaking. He loves to pull your thighs apart when you try to close them, keeping you wide open and dripping for him. You beg for him to fuck you, that you’re ready, but Frankie also loves to ignore you, content to keep lapping at your twitching cunt, murmuring a, “quiet, princesa, I’m working.” You want to strangle him. 

You also love him so much that it hurts sometimes. 

He’s perfect, everything is perfect, except for the fact that, although he’ll spend an entire night eating your pussy like a man starved, he won’t let you return the favor. You can count the amount of times in four years that Francisco Morales has let you suck his cock on one hand, and you wouldn’t even use all of your fingers. Whenever you’re between his legs, working him between your lips, inch by thick inch, he always wrenches you off him with a grip in your hair, before he bends you over and fucks you until your pussy is gaping and your brain is mush.

But you know you’ve got him this time. His hands are bound with a silky scarf around the head board, the pinkness of his blush spreading down to his chest as he watches you with heavy eyes.

“Princesa, please, just- you can sit on my face, yeah? And do what you want to me, but baby, I just gotta...I gotta make you feel good, please?” he grunts with that deep voice of his, raspy and needy.

You kiss him softly as a reply, brushing a hand through his soft curls. “Frankie,” you whisper. “I want to suck your cock today. I told you that, baby, didn’t I?” Frankie nods tentatively. You grin at the way his lips part, big eyes watching you like you’ve hung the moon and stars, just for him. “Then you’re going to shut up and let me suck you as long as I want, you got that?”

Frankie nods again, and nearly whines when you pull away from his face, brushing your lips down, down. You lick over the softness of his stomach, around where his cock, throbbing and red and dripping, lays against it. You avoid sucking the sticky tip into your mouth right away, instead moving lower to bite at his quivering thighs. You can hear Frankie’s breaths growing louder, desperate for your touch. 

“Please, mi vida,” he whimpers, hips bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burn at the sound of his own desperation, but when you smile at him, almost shyly, at his words, it almost becomes worth it.

“Okay, Frankie,” you whisper, and he gasps when you move back up his body, ever so slightly, to lick hungrily over the length of his cock, moaning at the taste.

He groans deep in his throat at the feeling of your hot tongue trailing over the veins and crevices of him, memorizing every thick, throbbing inch. You make your way up until you reach the tip, and, with one final glance at Frankie, his pupils blown wide as he meets your gaze, you close your plush lips around the tip.

Frankie’s back arches, just a bit, off the bed when you suck hard on the tip of his cock, tongue dipping into the slit as you swallow everything he has to give. “Ah- oh God, oh God, por favor, baby,” he whines, not even knowing what he’s begging for from you.

But you know, you always know. 

You can’t exactly smile around Frankie’s cock, not with your mouth stretched as wide as it is around the girth of him, but it’s a near thing. You slide down the length of him, tongue running along every new inch you let into your pretty mouth, watching as Frankie’s eyes roll into the back of his head, soft stomach heaving with every labored breath.

You brace yourself with your nails digging into his thighs as you push down even further, the tip of him finally budging into the back of your throat, and though you try to swallow around it, you can’t help but gag a little.

Frankie’s eyes snap open at the feeling and sound, his body going suddenly still. “Baby, do you need to stop? Fuck, you can stop if it’s too much, we can just-” You shake your head gently, not daring to slide him out of your mouth just yet. “Okay, okay, mi vida,” he breathes. “Just, please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You could never, you want to say, but your mouth is far too preoccupied. Instead, you push just a little further, shoving him just another inch into your drooling mouth.

Frankie never lets you do this, never lets you have your fill, and you’re drunk off the taste of him, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the tip lodges in the back of your throat. And even as it does, even as his fat cockhead makes you choke, you keep sinking down.

He slides deep into the length of your throat, forcing you to breathe through your nose. Your eyes are watering at the stretch of him, your nails digging little indents into his hairy thighs. You fucking love it.

Frankie loves it too, evidently. With every inch, he whines, crying your name in stuttered gasps. You just keep moving, bobbing your head up and down just slightly to get more and more of him in, until you finally, finally, reach the thick base of his cock, the wiry hairs tickling your nose.

“Oh God, fuck princesa, you’re so perfect. Shit, your mouth is so good, you- you’re so good to me, baby, oh fuck, no one’s ever gotten this far, I-I-” he gasps, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut.

Oh. Your head feels like it’s underwater, delirious with the fact that you’re the only one to ever do this for Frankie. The only one that can do this for him.

You gaze up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, pretty and needy. He blinks his eyes open, looking down at you when you stop moving, utterly still with his cock buried deep inside your throat. You, all pretty with your cheeks flushed and eyes watery, lips stretched wide and sticky and utterly obscene. You gaze back, your stare unrelenting, and suddenly swallow hard around the entire length of him.

Frankie nearly screams at the feeling, completely unreal and new. “Ah- ah!”

And you just keep doing it, bobbing slightly while you milk him with your hot, wet throat. Overwhelmed tears are leaking down Frankie’s face, his hips hitching up just barely to meet the minute movements of your head.

“I- Princesa, I’m gonna- I can’t hold it, ‘m sorry, can’t- it’s so good, too good mi vida, I-”

Frankie tries to pull his hips back, but you hold yourself onto him, keeping him buried within you as he spills hot, sticky cum down your throat.

You keep sucking him, milking him as the last dregs of his orgasm die away, before finally pulling yourself off him.

“Good?” you whisper, you voice sounding raspy and fucking used.

Frankie’s eyes widen in shock. “Good? Holy fucking shit, baby,” he mutters, head thrown back to look up at the ceiling, as if to ask God is she being fucking serious right now?

“You untie me, right fucking now, princesa. I’ll show you how ‘good’ that was. Until you pass the fuck out.”

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Shadows and tears

So this is a series about Azriel and reader. English is not my first language so please excuse any mistakes. I hope you like it!

Summary: Reader is a tortured soul who barely escaped the brutality of the Illyrian camps finding shelter in the Day Court. Her identity was well hidden until she caught the attention of the Night Court’s Shadowsinger. Will the mating bond be enough for their love to settle in?

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse and trauma, smut towards the end (18+)

Masterlist

Prologue , Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Hope.

The next morning you woke up ready to face the new day. The smile never left your face as you showered, got dressed and braided your hair. Maybe this could work between you and Azriel. Once again you met Nesta in the dining room and after your breakfast you headed to the roof finding Cassian, Azriel, Emerie and Gwyn. You started stretching and waited for Cassian to train you while the girls were already moving into the ring.

 It was Azriel who approached you. “Ready?” He cocked his head.

“I thought Cassian was going to train me” you furrowed your brows.

“He told me you need some help with your shadows and your focus” he replied straightening his posture. The hurt of your reject flashing in his eyes.

“Okay” you muttered, guilt building in your chest.

He led you to the usual corner. You placed your feet like Cassian had shown you and stared at the training dummy. Azriel placed his hands on your hips to angle them correctly and you heard a gasp behind you two. Both of you snapped your heads to the direction of the gasp. Gwyn was on the ground holding her nose as blood flowed from it. Nesta was by her side muttering apologies and Cassian was standing in front of them, a harsh look on his face. “You lost your focus” Cassian growled.

“I’m sorry” Gwyn said and glanced at your direction; her eyes stayed on Azriel who tensed.

“Okay let’s get back to work” Azriel told you dismissing the look Gwyn sent him.

You tried to focus again, but something wasn’t right. Why was Gwyn staring at you like that. You would shake the thought off, but Azriel tensing was proof that something is going on. The shadows whispering in your ear brought you back from your thoughts. You continued, trying not to blush at the shadowsinger’s praises. Training with Azriel was way more helpful than with Cassian. Not that the warlord didn’t know what he was doing but Azriel could understand the struggle to keep focusing when something cold was whispering in your ears. When training was over your brain felt like a mush and your body ached. Az had a proud yet worried look on his face as you limped to the bench to drink some water.

“You did really good today” he said taking a seat next to you.

“Yeah, and became best friends with the ground” you replied. “I’m a little jealous of that, you’ve hugged the ground so many times that I now believe that you like it more than me.” He pouted. The shadowsinger pouted. AND he made a joke. You blinked and burst into laughter. He grinned and stared at you. “Oh don’t let it go to your head I’m only laughing that much because it was unexpected” you shoved his shoulder and he chuckled. “Nope you just think I’m way too funny” he replied and winked at you.

“You arrogant Illyrian” amusement filled his eyes “You are an Illyrian too” he replied with a teasing smile.

“Maybe I’m arrogant too, we’ll see” you shrugged and got up, picking your stuff to go back to your room.

“Are you coming to Rita’s tonight?” he asked walking next to you. You remembered Nesta telling you that everyone was going during breakfast. You nodded.

“Great I’ll see you there” he offered you a smile and disappeared in his shadows.

The moment the hot water touched your aching body you moaned. All your muscles relaxed, and you wondered if you could just stay in the bathtub for the rest of the month. You knew Mor would burst in your room to get you ready, so this plan was hopeless. You enjoyed the moments of peace not realizing how long you stayed there. The water started getting cold and the door of your bathroom opened, like the house was telling you to get out, you glared at the wall and then chuckled feeling stupid for being mad at a house. With a sigh you grabbed the towel and wrapped it around your body. You entered your room hissing at the cold and cursing yourself for leaving the window open. Dinner appeared on the small coffee table and Mor burst in, Nesta hot on her heels with a bottle of wine. They slammed the door shut, filling your room with giggles as they jumped on your bed, hot plates of food appearing in their hands and three wine glasses next to your plate. You narrowed your eyes. “This belongs to Rhys’ personal collection; we don’t know who took it” Nesta shrugged and they both burst into laughter earning a giggle from you too.

“He’s going to kill us if he finds out” you muttered shaking your head but taking the bottle from her hands to fill the glasses. You all ate the food and got ready. Mor chose the clothes you all would wear and Nesta did your hair before doing her own.

By the time you had to leave you were all tipsy, giggling you all made your way to Rita’s where the rest of the inner circle was waiting for you. You walked to the booth and took a seat next to Azriel who sniffed and smiled teasingly. Rhysand was staring at the three of you, a scowl appearing on his face.

“Please tell me I’m not smelling my wine” he whined throwing his head back desperately. Everyone laughed while Feyre petted his hair cooing “poor Illyrian baby”. Shock was evident in your face as you watched the most powerful high lord acting like a toddler.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re his mate or mother” Amren spoke lifting one brow.

Azriel placed his hand on your thigh relaxing back and then tensed when he realized his actions. Before he could take his hand back you covered it with your own and offered him a sweet smile. You saw relief on his face as he relaxed more. Nesta saw the movement and winked at you. You knew the alcohol made you so bold, but you couldn’t stop yourself as you laid back on him. The others didn’t seem to notice, or they just hid it well as they continued drinking and chatting.

“….and then he was on the ground with just one punch.” Cassian exclaimed throwing everyone into a fit of laughter. He was talking most of the night, he had so many stories from the war and the Illyrian camps, and he told them with such a humorous way. You were amazed by the way he could make such dark stories so fun, but you could see the haunted look behind his eyes. Azriel bumped his shoulder into yours, a curious look on his face. You stared into his eyes, primal instinct taking over you as you captured his lips with your own. He was frozen but after a few licks on his bottom lip he grabbed the back of your head and started leading the kiss, it was hot, messy and needy. When Rhysand cleared his throat you two broke the kiss, staring at each other. He smiled and turned his gaze to his friends who continued their conversation but kept smirking. You made a mental note next time something like that happens to get your shadows to cover both of you.

After some drinks Azriel cleared his throat getting everyone’s attention

“I think me and y/n had enough to drink we are going home” he announced and grabbed your hand. You stood up and followed him after saying your goodbyes to the others who were howling and whistling.

“They are acting like kids” Azriel muttered.

“Lighten up Mr. Grumpy” you giggled. He smiled and grabbed you by the waist shooting up earning a surprised yelp from you. In a matter of seconds you could see every part of Velaris. You felt so lucky to be able to live in a city like this. Azriel landed on the roof of the house and let you go.

“I have wings you know” you teased him.

“I know but I wanted to feel you.” He confessed. “Why’d you kiss me?”

“I don’t know… I felt comfortable like I could belong in this family, and you next to me… it felt right.” You shrugged but then your jaw dropped. “Oh Cauldron boil me, I didn’t ask for your permission I just kissed you, Az I’m so sorry.”

His eyes widened “No. You don’t have to ask for permission to kiss me. Don’t you ever think that again.”. He grabbed your face and slammed his lips on yours, a hard kiss to confirm his words. He left you breathless. Your eyes filled with lust and the smell of your arousal filled the place. His eyes darkened in response, and he pushed you onto the wall, his body covering yours and pushing you harder against the wall. You could feel his breath on your face as he stared deep into your eyes.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish” he growled and lowered his head to your neck, smelling you. You felt his tongue caressing your soft skin only his lips interrupting the trail as he left soft kisses.

“Who told you I can’t finish it?” You breathed and almost screamed when he manhandled you, laying you flat in the middle of the ring. He kept kissing his way down, lifting your dress until it reached your waist. His face was between your thighs, and he stared at you waiting for permission, you nodded and in a blink your underwear was ripped, and his mouth was on you. He licked a long stripe, and his teeth grazed your swollen clit. You moaned his name pleading for more. He chuckled and brought his fingers between your folds, entering them in a harsh move that made you gasp. He removed them and brought them between your lips. “Taste yourself” he ordered. His voice strong and cold. You did as he asked a hum of pleasure deep in your throat. You lapped his fingers tasting yourself until he yanked them out of your mouth, grabbing your jaw and moving your head so you could look at him. “Don’t be greedy leave some for me” he growled and brought his fingers in his mouth, tasting your arousal and saliva. You could climax just by the view. Your heat clamping onto nothing making you more frustrated.

“I want you…please” you whined. A vicious smile appeared on his face as he unbuttoned his pants taking himself out.

“Then take me” he snarled and slammed into you. You cried out in both pleasure and pain making him stop.

“I’m okay” you breathed, and he continued pounding into you, changing his hips’ angle to hit the right spots. You were seeing stars, your throat sore as his name kept leaving your lips like a prayer. You were reaching your high quickly but you wanted him to finish with you, so you stretched your hand caressing the sensitive place on his wings making him shudder.

He snapped his hips once, twice and his body tensed, his cock deep inside you as he filled you up.  A low “fuck” leaving his lips making you follow him crying out his name, and every forgotten God’s name. He throbbed inside you. His hair falling on his face along with drops of sweat. He stared in your eyes, lowering his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss full of care and love. He pulled out and you whined at the empty feeling making him chuckle. He laid next to you staring at the stars.

“I wanted our first time to be gentle, but I couldn’t hold myself with the way you were looking at me and the alcohol I had” he confessed, and you could hear the guilt in his voice.

“It was perfect, I don’t like it gentle” you replied and laid your head on his chest. Your hand caressing his jaw. He took your palm and left a soft kiss. You didn’t know how long you stayed like that or when you dozed off, but when you opened your eyes, you were in your bed. Alone.

@cleverzonkwombatsludge

[callmewrinkles3]

Sandwiches

Summary: Dan’s delayed coming home from winter testing. Emmy’s in bed. Fluff.

March 2019

The flight from Barcelona to London wasn’t long, but Dan was exhausted. Two weeks of winter testing meant his brain was mush in a good way. The car felt good. Not great, but he was comfortable. He could work with comfortable. But then there was a delay so they were diverted to Gatwick and it was a pain getting through. But finally after far too long he was getting his bag and getting into the taxi with Blake.

Emmy hadn’t replied to his landed text so hopefully she was actually asleep for once. She never really slept when he was driving, even in testing when it was safe. But then they were in the taxi and he put his phone away so he didn’t smile stupidly at it and give everything away. Having his manager and one of his best mates living next door to his girl was awkward for so many reasons. Especially this one.

“Talk to you tomorrow, Mate? Well, today?” Blake asked and Dan shook his head.

“Day off? Weekend off, fuck it. When’s the next thing I actually have to do? Sim work, right?”

“Sim on Monday yeah.”

“Fuck it. We’re off this weekend. I’m gonna spend it sleeping and stretching.”

“See ya.”

The driver pulled back onto the road until Dan got him to stop beside the 24 hour shop. “Just here, thanks.”

“I thought you were out further?”

“My girl’s in his building and we’re keeping it quiet for now. We’re all friends.”

“Good luck.”

It was a ten minute wait to make sure Blake was actually in his place before Dan started the minute walk down the street. He spent the time productively and picked up a bouquet of flowers for Em. They’d very carefully ignored Valentines Day, unwilling to have that conversation and let his heart be broken if she didn’t feel the same way he did. So instead it was purple and yellow tulips that he had in his hand while he climbed the three sets of stairs to get to the tiny attic apartments.

Opening the front door by pushing in the one spot guaranteed not to squeak, the first thing he noticed was the chill in the air. A quick glance at the crap storage heaters showed they were supposed to be on, but there was no heat emitting from them. Fucking landlord too cheap to fix it even when Dan had called multiple times after Em had. She’d repeated the story about how the handyman taught her how to use the heaters instead of checking them one too many times, her “I was using them in uni halls and I was warmer then, Danny!” filling the air.

Sitting in the middle of the table was a beeswax wrap covered plate and a bottle of water. Pulling the wrap off he discovered the BLT sitting there on crusty bread. His girl always left him something if she was going to bed, crisp bacon and tomatoes that were well insulated to stop the bread going soggy making him so happy. This was home. The way no matter what was going on Em made sure to have a sandwich waiting for him to get back to her if he was due in at night. For the first time in too long there was someone who cared about him just because she liked him and that was magical.

He finished eating and took a swallow from the bottle before capping it and wrapping his arms around himself to keep the heat. It was quick to brush his teeth and run a cloth over his face to get the worst of the travel grime off. But finally he pushed open the bedroom door to see the best thing. His Emmy was curled up on the side of the bed he usually slept on, a black and yellow hoodie on to keep her warm in the March chill. Her arms were wrapped around the Jigglypuff plushie he’d bought for her in Japan the year before and she was so peaceful it nearly hurt him to have to get her to move. He pulled his clothes off quickly and pushed the starry night duvet out of the way so he could slip into the bed.

“I’m back, Emmy. It’s just me,” he murmured as her eyes opened and a grin spread across her sleepy face.

“Missed you.”

“Missed you too.” He kissed the top of her head as she curled up against his chest and tried to get comfy again. A moment later he felt her shuffle and watched as her hands moved her hoodie up.

“What’s up?”

“Wanna feel your skin. Know it’s you. I-“ She was cut off by a yawn. “The hoodie made me think you were Jigglypuff but I’m too sleepy.”

“I’ve got you. Hands up for a minute.” It took less than a minute for him to pull her hoodie off and throw it across the room, leaving her bare skin pushed against his as they curled under the blankets and got warm again.

“Nigh-night Danny. Tell me about testing tomorrow. We’ve got time.” Dan watched Em’s eyes close as she curled in tighter, their legs tangling together. They were flying to Australia in a couple of days to spend time in Perth before Melbourne and he couldn’t wait. It was two and a bit weeks that he got to spend almost entirely with Em curled up beside him with his family there. In the quiet of the night he could admit it to himself. He couldn’t wait to spend time at his home race with the woman he was in love with.

[verfound]

FIC: "Your Face Could..." (MLB; Lukanette)

Characters/Pairings: Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng; Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Rating: Teen

Summary: Luka had a stupid face.  And if he’s going to be such a jerk about things, Marinette thinks he deserves to know it.

Author’s Notes/Warnings: …um.  Can I blame this on the heatwave and the mush my brain is?  😂  @quickspinner shared an Insta, and then I did this in maybe ten minutes.  You…a minific shitpost?  Take it for what it is.  😂

(Read on Ao3)

“Your Face Could…”

“You…you…!!!”

Luka lifted an eyebrow, calm as ever, and wasn’t that just the icing on the proverbial fucking cake?  She was already mad enough, but her husband’s maddening unflappability was always enough to make it worse.

…usually.  Sometimes it was helpful.  Like when the fate of the city (or world) was at stake.  She was actually pretty grateful for it then.  But times like now?  When she was already pissed off and he was trying to be sweet and considerate and get her to calm the fuck down?

God, he pissed her the hell off.

And he fucking knew it!

There was that familiar glint in his eyes, that knowing little smirk playing at the corners of his mouth that let her know he knew he was wearing her down.  She’d start to see reason any minute, and she’d stop being pissed at him and opt instead for snuggles, and he would win, just like he always did.  But she didn’t want him to win today!  She wanted to be mad, and frustrated, and to cry and call him a stupid head and maybe kick his ass a little!

She had earned that, right?

Right?

“Don’t you dare,” she huffed, her fists clenching at her sides.  His eyebrow just rose higher.  It was the only part of him that moved: he was still leaning back against the counter, his arms folded across his chest and looking as unflappable as ever.  “I am mad at you, Couffaine.”

“I know,” he said, nodding.  “Unreasonably, but I know.”

“It is not unreasonable!” she shrieked.  The eyebrow ticked again.  She stomped her foot.  “This is your fault!”  He dipped his head towards her, and she wasn’t sure if he had somehow managed to get his eyebrow even higher or if it was just the new angle of his head.  She grit her teeth, her nails pressing into her palms.  “You wipe that smirk off your stupid face right now.”

“Hey,” he said, and the asshole had the audacity to chuckle, “you love this stupid face.”

…she did, but he didn’t need to know that.  Not right now, at least.  A little white lie never hurt anyone for the sake of winning an argument, right?

“I do not!” she whined, stomping her foot again.  He chuckled again, and oh she just wanted to slap him!  “That face is…that stupid face…”

And it just wasn’t fair, because he had her so mad she couldn’t even think straight.

That was the only reason, really.

It had to be.

Her brain was in a rage spiral, and the only insults it could come up with were just as stupid as his stupid face, which…

“…your stupid face could scare slugs off cabbages!” she shouted, her eyes screwing shut as she stomped her foot again.

There was a pause.

A moment of calm, if you will, as her words settled like lead balloons around them.

And then, finally: “…what?”

She opened her eyes, her teeth grinding so hard her jaw almost hurt.  For once, Luka actually looked slightly flapped.

“You heard me!” she huffed.  He nodded, and the smirk was a lot less of a smirk now and more of a grin.  Somehow, that just pissed her off even more.

“…I did,” he said, nodding, “but I really don’t think you should be trying to insult me with dumb Instas I sent you two hours ago.”

Her eyes popped wide.  Her mouth dropped open.  The pickle jar that had started the whole thing fell to the floor and – miraculously – did not break.

“Come on, darning,” he added, dipping his head again as the smirk came back.  “You’re much more creative than that.  You can do better.”

…and that was when the tears started.

“Not when I’m angry and hormonal and stupid, you…you…oh, you asshole!” she cried, dropping her face in her hands to (attempt to) hide the fact that she was crying.  Like that could fool him, though.  She heard him sigh, and she peeked out over her fingertips to find his arms were open.

“Come here,” he sighed, and in the next moment she was cuddled against his chest, her tears soaking his shirt as he wrapped his arms tight around her.  “There, there.  It’s all right, darning.”

“It is not,” she whined.  He kissed her temple and rubbed her back.

“It is,” he said.  He sighed and rested his cheek against her head.  “I will be so glad when our little one’s here and these mood swings stop.”

“…shut up,” she whined.  “I told you it’s your fault.”

“Yes, dear,” he said automatically, dutifully.  She sniffed and peeked up at him, her fingers toying with the collar of his shirt.

“…can you just open the stupid jar now?” she asked, her voice as miserable as ever.  He tipped her chin up and kissed her, and that made her feel maybe a little better.

“Yes, dear.”

And she supposed she didn’t hate him all that much after all.

…even if his stupid face could scare slugs off cabbages.

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

WoW:

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i have no excuse for naming this what i named it 😭

lee: Han

lers: Chan and Changbin

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“aaand…JISUNG!” Chan exclaimed as Jisung misses his line for the 5th time. 

Jisung looks to the ground sadly and sighs. “sorry hyung, i’m really out of it today”

“How about we play a game?” Changbin suggests.

Changbin and Chan both exchange evil glances behind Jisung’s back.

“Yeah, I think I will be fine after I take a little break..” Jisung agrees.

“Hmmm but what game should we play?” Chan asks Changbin, both smirking.

“Let’s play hide-and-seek!” Changbin shouts.

“But-just to make it more interesting- how about we have a punishment?” Chan asks.

“Wait wait wait why should there be a puni-” Jisung starts. However, he gets interrupted by the loud counting of the two eldest, and Jisung’s eyes widened and he bolted out of the room, not bothering to shut the door behind him. 

“aaaand thirty!!! READY OR NOT HERE WE COOOME!!” Both Chan and Changbin shouted. 

meanwhile Jisung hid behind an open door, getting odd looks from Minho and Felix, who silently laughed at his terrified face.

It took about ten minutes for the evil lers to reach the room Jisung was hiding in. They both walked into the room and walked to the bed to question Minlix, unaware of Jisung behind them. Han took this as a chance and bolted out of the room, getting the attention of the two boys and they shouted, chasing after him and leaving Minho and Felix laughing and pointing at them. 

Jisung screamed loudly as he ran, 2basco right on his tail. They managed to corner him in the room they started, and Chan locked the door while Changbin cornered him. Han giggled nervously as they both approached him, cruel smirks on their faces. 

“So, we caught you~” Chan giggled out 

“So now u need a punishment” Binnie points out. 

“ah! how convenient! I’ve been keeping a stopwatch and it took us 13 minutes and 44 seconds to catch you!” Chan explained while showing his phone with a paused stopwatch.

“And why would you need to keep track of that?” Han questions suspiciously, his eyes narrowing.

“cause that’s how long your punishment is going to last.” Changbin clarifies.

“Well, at least tell me what my punishment is.”

Chan and Changbin both lunged forward suddenly and gripped one of Jisung’s arms to the wall above his head with one of their own arms. Jisung shrieked in surprise finding himself immobile and Chan started a timer. They wasted no time and dug hands roughly into Han’s small waist. 

“wait what’s happen- AHAHAHA!”

“Well, we decided this was a fit punishment so now u suffer~” Chan smiled at Jisung’s wiggling as his knees shook with the task of keeping him steady on the ground.

They both dug their hand into one of Han’s armpits and he screamed, his body shaking as the two others quickly moved on, leaning down (in Binnie’s case, at least 😂) and they grabbed his thighs and kneaded and squeezed roughly.

“HAHAHAHAHA PLEAAHHA HYUNGAHA” was the only thing that Jisung could get out of his throat. He had never been tickled like this before. It was so amazing, and rough, and it tickled so so so badly.

Chan and Binnie both stopped abruptly to give him a break, as Jisung looked like he was in a daze, face flushed and wet with tears. 

They waited a minute before Chan made a fist, Changbin soon following.

“wait wait WAIT DONT HURT ME-” Jisung pleaded before they both shoved their fists at his ribs and knuckled his ribs roughly.

Jisung let out a scream so raw that his throat hurt, his knees buckled and his laughter silenced after 10 seconds of nonstop cackles and screams with tears streaming down his face. 

Han’s brain felt like mush and he was unable to think about anything except: ‘it tickles it tickles OH MY GOD IT TICKLES’. And soon enough the lers stopped seeing he was just about to faint, and the timer rang faintly in the background. 

Chan and Binnie let go of his arms and sank to the floor with him, rubbing at his torso to get rid of ghost tickles and wiping the tears off his face as Jisung panted and hiccuped. 

“Oho my gohod that was-“ Jisung started.

“Did we go too far? We’re so sorry Sungie” Binnie suddenly started apologizing.

“NO no I…needed that. Thank you”

“I don’t think anyone has ever THANKED me for tickling them” Chan teased

“Yeah, you sure you didn’t like this Jisung?” Changbin added, smirking.

“I actually did like it” Jisung turned red while admitting.

“AWE THAT’S SO CUTEEE!!!” Chan squealed.

“just…WOW, you mean…can i just ask you and i can get this?” Jisung asked, still turning red. 

“Yeah, of course! Just tell us Sungie” Changbin says while standing, offering a hand to Jisung. Chan stands up as well, and 3RACHA heads back to the desks to continue recording their song.

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i hope you enjoyed! please check my intro before interacting! 😊💗

[insertsickusername13]

You get no summary as to what this is about. It's around 2k words, but it only took me like 30 minutes to write so. it's. it's a bit confusing. but it's cute and happy!!!

 “I don’t even know where to start,” Chloe whined, slamming her forehead against the library table. Jake winced involuntarily at the noise, but Chloe didn’t even seem to notice what she’d done. “She’s just so pretty, Jake. Have you seen her? Those eyes—”

 “Yes,” Jake replied, an odd mix between bemused and annoyed. He had homework he was happy to ignore just to listen to Chloe’s excessive rantings on her most recent crush (there’d been three this week—she was struggling with the whole ‘not being in love with Brooke anymore’ thing), but it was still homework that he’d have to do later if he didn’t finish it now. “We get it, she’s hot and you want to fuck her, but did I factor this right?”

 She barely glanced over his paper before giving him a half-hearted thumbs up and continuing on with, “I just want to be able to talk to her, you know? Be confident and tell her she’s the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen.”

 “Then do that,” Rich seethed. He was even more impatient than Jake, sitting red-faced with his arms crossed over his chest, staring directly at his computer with a familiar fiery gaze Jake was accustomed to being on the receiving end of. Jake’s heart did a flip.

 “Shut up. You never confess to your crushes," Chloe shot back.

 “Because I’m busy writing reports for my stupid research class, and I’d prefer if I could do it in silence.”

 Jake leaned forward on his elbows and propped his chin on the heel of his hand, just close enough so he could feel the edges of Rich and Chloe’s argument like electricity in the air. They were both pissy today—Chloe because she was upset about her crush, and Rich because he had a three thousand word report due that night that he’d totally forgotten about until two days ago. Though Jake would usually have little patience when it came to Rich’s moods (uncommon now that he was unsquipped—most of the time it was either dorky ramblings or hesitant dad jokes), he was well enough adapted to Rich’s behaviors to know that hadn’t meant to put it off, really, it was just a thing that happened sometimes. He knew Rich had seen it in the color-coded agenda Jake had made for him, it simply didn’t register that it was real. Rich spent the past two days busting his ass off and Jake understood why he wanted silence so he could get it over with.

 “No,” Chloe shot back, “You’re a coward. And I am too. I’m usually so confident, this genuinely hurts. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

 Rich tilted his head back to cast a glance up at the sky, probably a prayer of some sort, before he closed his computer and turned to Chloe, expression cold. Jake watched his every movement.

 “Five minutes,” Rich spat, “Five minutes, and then you shut up for the rest of the period and let me work. Deal?”

 Chloe stuck out her hand and shook his. Rich set a timer on his phone and immediately Chloe was off. The color of this girl’s eyes (Jake wasn’t sure of her name, he’d been too busy watching Rich bite his lip while he focused to catch it), her hair, the way she made her feel.

 “I can’t even think when I'm around her," Chloe sighed, borderline wistful, “My stomach gets in knots and everything gets fuzzy and warm. It’s like I’m melting inside, and not in a horny way. I want to take her away to some perfect place where she can never get hurt and teach her how to paint and feed her cherries. How am I supposed to talk to her when my brain is literal mush whenever she gets too close?!"

 Rich laughed for the first time all day. Jake frowned.

 “I don’t get it,” Jake said slowly, trying to decode Chloe’s words even as he was speaking, “Aren’t you doing that now?”

 Chloe and Rich immediately turned to him, surprised by not only his sudden contribution to their previously exclusive conversation but also by his hesitance. Jake wasn’t hesitant. Jake always knew what he was talking about.

 Even now, he was sure of himself. He knew Chloe was talking through that feeling now—Rich was sitting right next to her, and Rich was practically the embodiment of that feeling. He walked into the room and overwhelmed everyone with a giddy, sunshine feeling that made their vision blur and their heart beat too fast. It was a Rich thing, he brought it everywhere he went. Even when he walked in with a too-big sweatpants and oily hair after weeks of either studying or laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and convincing himself he was worth more than the persona he used to present, Rich ignited butterflies in everyone he met. Every single day.

 Chloe didn’t make the connection to the Rich Effect (as Jake had dubbed it), though. She shot to her feet, eyes wide and panicked.

 “She’s here?!!?” she whisper-yelled, spinning in circles and scanning the library for her mystery crush, “Where?! Why didn’t you tell me—”

 “What? No, calm down, I was talking about Rich.”

 If Jake’s earlier statement had confused them, this broke them. Chloe sat down, her back rigid and eyes narrowed. Rich simply tilted his head slightly to the right, an innocent show of curiosity. Even that was enough to make the room flush pink, and somehow Chloe seemed perfectly fine talking through that, he didn’t see why this new girl was any different.

 “Rich?” she echoed, “I don’t have a crush on Rich? It’s fine to talk around him?”

 “Yeah, obviously. But he’s got the whole Rich thing, y’know?”

 They did, indeed, not know. Jake looked between the two of them, searching for any flash of recognition, but he was met with empty stares and questioning looks. Rich made a small, confused sound.

 “Like, Rich-walks-in-a-room-and-everything-lights-up? That thing? The butterflies? C’mon, you have to know what I’m talking about, he’s been doing it since the fire.”

 Jake’s nerves somehow coalesced into an awkward, stunted laugh made just to fill the silence that followed his observation. Rich seemed weirdly flustered, as if he’d somehow been unaware that every single person he met was enthralled by the sound of his lisp or the way he fidgeted with the hem of his sleeves whenever he got nervous. This was normal—Jake knew it was normal. Everyone felt that, everyone knew it, it was just such a fact of life it remained unspoken amongst the masses.

 “…no,” Chloe said as if she was explaining some foreign concept to a toddler, “Most people do not get butterflies at the sight of Rich. No offense.”

 Rich shook his head as he muttered ‘none taken.’ He was studying Jake with the same lost expression Chloe was, lips parted, and it was only when Rich’s cheeks flushed a cute pink that Jake realized maybe he’d fucked up.

 Rich clearly had no idea what he was talking about. Even worse, Chloe had no idea what he was talking about. Not only was Rich not purposefully torturing the entire population with his inexplicable ability to turn everything into gold whenever he smiled, but apparently his accidental magic only affected Jake.

 A phenomenon most would describe as a crush.

 Jake did not have a crush. He was straight, Rich was his best friend, and he’d never risk ruining that. But Chloe was slowly coming to the same realization he had and he watched the exclamation form on her lips before he had the chance to stop her.

 “You like him?!”

 Jake didn’t have time to form a defense before Rich was falling out of his chair, face red and eyes bulging. He popped back up almost immediately and screeched, “WHAT?!”

 “No!!! Stop! I don’t! Slow down! It’s normal, okay?! Stop looking at me like that, Jesus. I’m not—I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?! It’s clearly not the same. Just—the normal amount, you know? Don’t you give everyone butterflies? C’mon, it can’t just be me.”

 Maybe it was just him, come to think of it. He didn’t remember many other people getting tongue-tied around Rich, or blushing simply when he entered the room. The only reason Jake could keep his cool around Rich was because he’d spent months adapting to this constant glow-y feeling. The first few weeks after meeting post-fire Rich, Jake had practiced talking in the mirror just to make sure he hadn’t had a stroke in his sleep and lost the ability to speak or something. Other people… didn’t seem to have that reaction. They didn’t act like Rich was made of pure sunshine, or his voice a melody, his eyes entrancing, his lips—

 Jake searched Rich’s face for an answer, eyes darting from place to place helplessly. From his eyes to his eyebrows to his cheeks to his freckles to his hair. He was met with curiosity and excitement and tension—something that terrified him more than anything.

 He didn’t think Rich would say no, not when he was looking at Jake like this. Like he was afraid to be happy, unbelieving that things could possibly go the way he wanted them to. Jake could ask Rich to kiss him right now and… and he might get that. He might like that.

 “The normal amount,” Jake repeated, his voice trembling. Too fast. He was straight ten minutes ago, this was way too fucking fast.

 “The normal amount is no amount, Jacob,” Chloe said. Unlike Rich, she didn’t sound afraid to be happy. She looked excited. She was finally free from Jake’s lingering attraction. She could go off and date this new girl without wondering if her ex-boyfriend would be okay with it. Because he had a crush on his best friend. Apparently. Fuck. No—

 “Okay?! Then I don’t feel it any amount! It’s only sometimes—well, most of the time—but there’s no way—how can you look at him and not—?”

 Chloe had the audacity to laugh at him, elated and unbridled. That, of all things, should’ve had Jake’s heart melting into his lungs.

 But instead, it was Rich’s small, “Jake…?” that made the sky turn pink.

 “Don’t. I don’t like you, okay? I don’t. It’s—”

 Jake would kiss him if Rich asked him to. But, because this was post-fire Rich instead of pre-fire Rich, Rich didn’t say a word, didn't lean forward and offer Jake the sweet relief of letting all this built-up excitement out into a kiss. Rich sat back down, mouth clamped shut and eyes trained carefully on the table in front of him.

 “Okay,” he murmured, his face flushed, “Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

 “Go out to dinner with me.”

 Rich refused to look up. Still staring at the table, he whispered, “What?”

 “I don’t know?! Apparently, not everyone thinks you’re the most beautiful person to walk the planet?! And I mean, if I get to keep you all to myself, then fuck me if I don't. So. Dinner. I don’t know what’s happening right now, but I’m not a fucking coward. I’ll go for it. You’re pretty, you make everything warm and happy, and I think I really fucking like that feeling, so.”

 “You’re straight.”

 “Maybe not?” Jake offered, his voice small and on the verge of cracking.

 Rich’s hands clenched the edge of the table. Jake, disoriented and desperate, reached out and threaded their fingers together just to loosen his grip.

 “Please?” he whispered, “I think—I think I really like you.”

 “Okay,” Rich replied.

 “No, I’m serious. I—”

 “I know you are. But I’m sure I like you. A lot. Why don’t you go fuck around a little and experiment a bit before you decide to go and break my heart?”

 “Oh, shit,” Chloe said. Jake shooed her off with his free hand, not even bothering to look at her. His full attention was on Rich and his trembling hands.

 “I don’t wanna experiment. I want to go out to dinner with you.”

 Rich shrugged. Jake made a small sound of frustration.

 “C’mon, you can’t—I like you! I have all the feelings people get when they like someone. Hell, I probably have more, considering I literally cannot see anyone else whenever you so much as brush up against me. I was raised to be fucking president of Model UN and the archery team, Rich. My brain never managed to compute that liking guys—liking you—could even be an option. But it is an option, and I like you, and now that I know it I don’t think I will physically be able to handle being in the same room and not kissing you. Dinner. Please. One date. Then you can decide I’m a slut who just wants to experiment.”

 Rich squeezed Jake’s hand, tight and unwavering. When he looked up, all Jake could think about was how grateful he was Rich hadn’t done it earlier. He already knew he was fucked—just from Chloe’s confusion, from Rich’s embarrassment—but damn. Damn. Jake wished he was more poetic. He’d trained himself to write succinct essays and informative contentions, not stanzas about the exact shade of gold the perfect mix between green and brown could make.

 “One date.”

 “And when I prove you wrong, we can go out on another.”

 Rich let out an awkward laugh that sounded somewhere between pained and excited.

 “Sure,” he said, “Then we can go on another.”

[anika-ann]

Well HELLO spicy snippet 👀 Thank you for the tag @murdock-and-the-sea 🥰

Gawd, my folder is a mess, but most of those have a title at least 😂:

BAU - Steve (GG) x Sparkles dump with quite a few ideas Pomiluj mě (make love on me) - knight Steve x reader Protect and Serve - Jordan Parrish x reader (am I... ever gonna work on that... who knows) Run with the Wolves - hurt Steve saved by a feral wolf 🙃 Do I Wanna Know - soulmate shared skills AU (is that even still a WIP🫠)

I barely write with only the bigegst exams in my life, so I cannot offer but another piece of knight Steve... Snippet under cut:

Long fingers circled your wrist, gentle but firm, having you cease your movement, brilliant blue roaming over your face.

“I miss you. All days, all nights. I-“ he paused, licking his lips, a shadow of hurt passing over his face. “Don’t you?”

Your heart soared, a sigh leaving your lips. Steven was making it difficult today; but your conviction and determination was just as strong as his. You had to be brave and so did he. A few days longer, that would be all you needed and the right time would come.

“Do not do this, rytier moj,” you scolded him, letting gentleness seep into your voice. “It does not suit you. You must know I love you. I miss you too. And I worry. All days. All nights. Therefore…”

You wiggled your hand, Steven’s shoulders sagging as he released you, an exasperated pout to his lips – unjustly adorable – as he watched you work. You smiled widely despite your unnerving circumstance; he would give you anything and everything. The knowledge of this, having been reminded by every little gesture, every word he spoke, made for the warmest softest feeling in your soul.

Content with your handiwork as you drew the last spiral, you had to swallow a chuckle when Steven’s brows furrowed in confusion, head bowing, eyes flickering over the unfamiliar pattern.

✨😇🥰🤷‍♀️

(I'm using Slovak as an "old" langauge in their endearments if you could call it that, rytier moj simply means my knight)

No pressure tags: @darsynia @chase-your-dreams-away @jamneuromain @ronearoundblindly @secretswiftymarvelfan and literally anyone, I'm sorry, my brain is a mush-

Thanks for tagging me mama 😉, @chvoswxtch !

rules — post up to five (5) filenames of your wips; not titles, filenames. post a snippet from one of them. snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. we’re posting progress here. if you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post. after you’ve posted, people can send an ask with one of your file names. you must then write 3 sentences in that file.

Untitled continuation of Hell's Belle - Frank Castle x female reader

As It Was - Fratt blip fic

D/s - Billy Russo x female reader, Frank Castle x female reader smut

Always a woman (working title) - Frank adoring his gf prompt from @hellskitchenswhore

Daredevil/punisher Musketeers AU

Snippet from As It Was:

Eventually he admitted that he had to find a coping mechanism. He threw himself into work, helped Foggy and Karen as much as he could, tracking down case leads and threatening those that stood in the way of justice for the people who had lost everything. And before returning 'home', he'd work second and often third jobs just so he didn't have the time or energy to think or dream about him, using hard labour to try to achieve such a state of physical exhaustion that sleep came dreamless.

Np tags - @peterman-spideyparker @courtforshort15 @marvelswh0re @munsonownsmyass @murdock-and-the-sea

[quicksillver]

how are you supposed to know if you're concussed if you have concussion symptoms all the time asking for a friend

[venerex]

[22:47]

contains: intercourse

inspired by this post by @husbandhoshi

"you good, baby?"

you're not sure how to answer jeno's question. you're not sure if it's even possible for you to answer it in your current state - with jeno's cock halfway inside of you, stretching your walls as you hold in whimpers with limited success.

you nod at his question, feeling glad that he doesn't press you to voice your consent (like he has every other time).

this is the first time you're fucking your boyfriend of a month - it would've been earlier if it was up to you, but jeno wanted to be all gentlemanly and was somehow completely oblivious to your hints, even though you invited him over at night repeatedly. you finally had enough and told him bluntly that you wanted to fuck him. and now here you are.

you always guessed that jeno had a larger-than-average cock, he was a big guy and his hard-on when you made out was pretty prominent. you've never cared much about sizes though, so you never gave it much thought. you know now that you should've. your boyfriend's big. much, much bigger than you could've anticipated.

he had eaten you out thoroughly and made you come on his fingers twice (and sweetly asked if you wanted to just stop here - but please, you've waited long enough for this) before taking off his pants and rolling on a condom. your impatience was both amusing to him and making him blush, you were very over politeness and graciousness today. you wanted to fuck your boyfriend.

a whimper escapes you as he pushed in a little more, and his eyes widen in alarm. "baby you okay? does it hurt?"

"no, it's - oh", another whimper, "so big"

"yeah? does it hurt?", his voice is soft. concerned.

"no", you shake your head desperately, not wanting him pull out, "feel so full"

"want me to keep going?"

"please", you're almost sobbing, "please don't stop jeno. i can't-"

"shh baby, it's okay", he coos, pushing his cock inside you a little more, taking in the way your eyes roll and the moans that escape you.

you feel his fingers on your clit and you almost scream at the sensation, the nub sensitive from your previous orgasms. you clench around his cock, your skin feeling hotter at the sound of his groans and the twitch of his length inside you.

you stay like that for a minute, jeno rubbing his hands on your sides and placing soft kisses on your face as you calm down. and then, he makes the final push, his entire length enveloped in your warmth as you mewl, his name coming out in garbled moans.

"you like how that feels, baby? you like feeling so full, mm?", jeno's unexpected words make you clench, and you don't miss the way his breath hitches at the action.

you want to reply to his teasing. you want to point out how clearly affected he is too. however, your mind has almost turned to mush.

"can't think when you feel so full, mm?", he's cooing at you, "just needed my big cock to give that pretty brain a rest, yeah?". you moan, not expecting this from your otherwise shy and respectful boyfriend.

you feel his finger touch your clit again, this time rubbing tight circles. his other hand reaches up to pinch your nipples, his cock still completely sheathed in you. you think you're about to lose your mind.

"why don't you come around my cock, baby? maybe that will clear up your head"

[ssentimentals]

hoshi + confessing

prompt: 'i genuinely don't know why my brain just goes blank whenever i look at you. i think i'm going crazy.'

tag list: @pearlygraysky @woozionascooter (let me know if you want to be added!)

soonyoung is not exactly a coward so it's not the reason behind him taking his sweet time before confessing; it's more about him genuinely enjoying this feeling, this 'oh, i am in love' vibe with no need to turn it into an action. he loves being in love, romanticizes the way everything seems to be brighter: colors, events, people. he's very content in keeping things the way they are for some time, simply basking in the knowledge of him having a crush.

'how many times you asked for sugar from her now?' minghao asks, eyeing happily skipping soonyoung warily.

'four!' soonyoung replies, knowing very well how stupid he must look in his friend's eyes but also not deterred the least by it. 'i will ask for it again today, i think.'

minghao clicks his tongue in disapproval. 'can you ask for something else? she'll see right through you if you come to ask for the sugar for the fourth time this month!'

'i'm surprised she haven't caught up with this yet,' vernon chimes in. 'i mean, it's either she's really oblivious or she just thinks that soonyoung is some kind of pastry chef, which is, well. i don't think things can be further from the truth.'

soonyoung doesn't reply but internally he agrees with vernon. he tries, he really tries so hard to come up with something else but every single time he sees you, his mind just turns into mush and for whatever reason sugar is the only word on his tongue. he's surprised how you haven't caught up with his crush yet, he never could take a hold of his expression so he is more than sure that his heart eyes could be spotted even a mile away. but you said nothing so far, acting absolutely normal with him, so he does fall more on the side that you're oblivious. which is fine with him, by the way, because he's more than happy to continue 'accidentally' bumping into you whenever you go out for the groceries, or walking together with you to the metro station, or ending up at your door asking for sugar just to see you beam back at him.

'or maybe she pretends to be oblivious in order not to hurt soonyoung's feelings,' minghao challenges and then turns to look at his friend with a sympathetic wince: 'sorry, but i just think that's an option as well. i really can't believe that you asked her for sugar four times in a row and she's not getting the hint yet.'

that is also something soonyoung internally agrees with. at this point he has so much sugar that he doesn't know what to do with it because he sure as hell does not bake. you always give him so much and once you jokingly asked if he's ever going to share with you his 'baking masterpieces' and soonyoung freaked out so badly that night, he ended up guilt-tripping mingyu into making vanilla scones for him (which he didn't even share with you afterwards because he didn't want to lie). last time he asked for the sugar you did look at him weirdly for a second but then shook your head and said nothing, so minghao's option may be very close to the truth as well. soonyoung is less happy with this option but he knows he should consider it as well.

'why it's always sugar though?' minghao asks as they reach his home. 'and i swear to god, if you say something like-'

'-because she's soooo sweet, sweet as a sugar!' soonyoung interrupts and cackles, watching minghao groan and hide his face in his hands.

'you should have seen it coming,' vernon pats minghao's back and shakes his head when soonyoung gestures them to come in. 'we'll get going, just pass the notes please.'

soonyoung quickly rummages his apartment for correct notes and waves both of his friends goodbye, locking the door after them. his window is open and he can hear soft tunes playing from your kitchen, which makes him smile. after being your neighbor for six months and harboring a crush on you for the last two of them, he pretty much memorized your schedule, your favorite songs and dishes. without even changing, he rushes out of the door because he hasn't seen you for three days and that's three days too many; he misses seeing you and hearing your voice. after first two months he asked for your number under the excuse of emergencies ('in case something serious will happen, like arson or, i don't know, electricity cut'), but haven't texted you once, afraid you'll find it creepy. without thinking throughly what he's going to say, he knocks on your door, bouncing on his feet. today's a good day and seeing you will only make it even better. you don't make him wait for long and the doors swings open at him in few minutes.

'hi!' he beams at you, jittery just from seeing your face. you smile and greet him back and his heart happily does a somersault at the thought that you are happy to see him too. 'long time no see!'

'full three days, yes,' you confirm, nodding.

'how was your trip?' he asks, sincerely wanting to hear the answer. you open the door fully and take a step back and he allows himself to stand just a bit closer to you than usual; you two never invited each other over which is understandable, so he keeps his distance, not wanting to cross the line.

'it was great, very refreshing,' you share with a smile and he nods, listening. he can listen to you all day, he loves watching you talk about something that makes you smile. 'but it feels good to be back, you know how they say that there's no place like home.' you shift from one leg to another and then gaze up at him curiously: 'did you want anything, by the way?'

it takes a second for soonyoung to process the question. 'oh, oh! yes, um, i wanted to ask if you can let me borrow some..sugar?'

he immediately know that he fucked up by the way you freeze. he sees you tense up and smile on your face falters, which makes his palms sweaty. you clear your throat, looking at him in a different manner now, like you are almost assessing him. he gulps, a little bit too loudly, when you cross arms on your chest, looking uncomfortable.

'soonyoung, i-' you start and pause, unsure. 'i'm sorry, i don't want to assume anything, but i just- this is the fifth time you are asking me for the sugar this month and it looks like..um. do you-' you look up, make eye contact with him and immediately look away, blushing. 'nevermind, yes, of course i can give you some sugar.'

you are ready to walk away when soonyoung shouts out: 'wait!', making you turn around. 'what did you want to ask?' you blink at him and soonyoung persists: 'finish your question, please.'

your eyes dart from one corner to another before they stop on him. he can tell that you are as nervous as him and it makes him feel more at ease, to be honest, to know that he's not the only one who's a ball of nerves here. 'honestly speaking,' he starts, 'i genuinely don't know why my brain just goes blank whenever i look at you. i think i'm going crazy.' you still stand unmoving, mouth parted in a little 'o' shape. 'so please, for the sake of both of us, just finish that question.'

'do you...like me, perhaps?' you asks in a shaky voice, so quietly that he barely hears you due to the music on the background.

'yes.'

'forget it, it's so rude of me to assume-- what?'

you look so shell shocked that he barely holds back his laughter. 'i like you, i do. i thought i was obvious but apparently not. one of my friends told me that if you haven't got the hint yet then you probably just don't like me back.'

you still look like deer caught in the headlights and he gingerly takes a step closer, now fully standing inside your apartment. at that you unfreeze, shaking your head. 'oh my god, so you asking for sugar all these times...you didn't even need it, huh?'

'yeah and now i have so much of it, i might just start selling it now.'

you both smile at this and you come closer to him, laughing quietly. soonyoung reaches out for your hands, carefully taking them in his. you both just stare at each other with soft smiles and he thinks it's perfect. he imagined numerous times confessing to you and all scenarios were super romantic, but this right here? it's perfect, better than his scenarios because this is real.

'you do know that you could have just asked me out? like normal people do?' you ask, smiling at him. 'i would have said 'yes''.

'and what's the fun in that?' soonyoung asks, pouting and making you smile. 'is the answer still 'yes', by the way? just checking.'

you chuckle and nod. 'it is.'

a/n: went a little overboard with this request, hope it's not bad though :] let me know if you liked it! anon who requested this, hope this is up for your liking <3

here is the link to my writing list and requests are open, come say hi! :) - nini

[thescarletfang]

Let Me, Please

Summary: He’s never been stern with you before today. Din DjarinxF!Reader

Post TBOBF but in this world the Razor Crest lives!!

Wordcount: 1,495

Warnings: some minor violence. all of my work is 18+ and minors should go bye-bye.

This is in the same universe as my other two fics! :) 

He’s never been stern with you before today. 

He didn’t yell at you. You’re not sure Mando has ever “yelled” - there’s no need for him to do so. His husky voice through the modulator is terrifying enough. It’s deadly and powerful and it’s never been turned on you in a threatening way - until today.

Until you were stupid enough to put Grogu’s safety at risk. You were so stupid! So foolish to have wandered away from Mando while on an unknown planet. But Grogu had been so enamored with the flora of this place that you figured the two of you moseying over to a little clearing behind the cantina while Mando gathered intel about his next bounty - you figured that was okay.

But it wasn’t okay. Because two sketchy, rowdy cantina patrons had followed you and Grogu to the clearing. Because the bigger of the two had grabbed you roughly, the stench of liquor on his tongue, and he’d thrown you to the ground and Grogu had wailed and your brain had turned to fucking mush as you tried to decide what to do - 

Your blaster. 

Breathe, girl, you told yourself. You know what to do. Reach for your blaster when you can.

But the  man was so drunk and in that drunkenness was sloppiness and he was all over you. He was crowding over you and it was broad daylight but that didn’t seem to matter in this place. There was a drunken man straddling you into the dirt and his companion had grabbed Grogu by his robes and you could hear him wailing and it was awful.

You gritted your teeth, your heart pounding and you bit down hard into the man’s hairy hand, your teeth splitting the flesh like it was the casing on a bantha sausage. You didn’t let up, your jaw locking as the man wailed and writhed in pain, the stench of his foul breath making your eyes water and burn. 

Finally, you let go of this fleshy hand and squared the heel of your boot against his chest, pushing with all your might. You expected the man to fall to the ground, but he stumbled backward into a tall, beskar-clad man.

Mando.

You had looked up at Mando and the black of his visor hurt you. It hurt you because in that moment you wished you could see his eyes. You wished you could know what was going on because you were shaken and you hated to admit that. But all you got was the cold of a visor, and it jerked down at you. 

“Get the kid and get back to the ship. Now.”

“Mando, I’m so--”

“Now! Do not make me repeat myself.” 

Your mouth snapped shut and your blood ran cold. You’d never heard him talk to you like that. You’d heard him talk to strangers like, that, other bounty hunters and his bounties. But you?

No, he’d never spoken to you like that before.

Shame had washed over you as you gathered Grogu into your arms. Apparently Mando had incapicated the man who had grabbed Grogu, because he was lying face down in the dirt.  You felt tears prick your eyes and your throat tightened. 

You’d really, really fucked up.

Once you had reached the ship, you’d made sure Grogu was uninjured, and then you’d soothed him, holding him against your chest and stroking his head. He’d fallen asleep in your arms and you’d put him in his pram, closing it and letting him sleep. The poor little tyke was exhausted and as shaken as you were.

And now you were alone in Mando’s ship, waiting for him to come back and fire you. Because that’s what you deserve. You deserve to be kicked to the curb. You take a shaky breath, standing in the hull of the ship, and you think you might as well pack.

You’ve just rolled up your bedroll when you hear Mando enter the ship. Your heart thuds fiercely. If you’re honest with yourself, you’re afraid to face him. You’re so deeply ashamed that you put Grogu in danger. It’s been months with Mando and his little son and you’ve stupidly assumed you fit in with them. When you met them they were a pair, and your naive heart has begun to think of you as a trio. 

But you don’t deserve that because you can’t even do your job. Your swallow, steeling your resolve, turning around and you force yourself not to tear up as Mando strides toward you in the hull of the ship. 

“I’m so sorry,” you say quickly. “I’m so sorry, Mando, I don’t even know how to begin to apologize--”

“Why are you packed?”

His voice cuts you off, the raspy tone washing over you and you realize it’s not anger he speaks to you in now but confusion. He’s...confused?

“W-what?” You’re disoriented. His helmet jerks to the bedroll underneath your arm, your sack over your shoulder.

“Why are you packed?” He says it again and you feel flustered.

You will your voice to not shake but you know you aren’t that lucky.

“I...I’m leaving?” His head jerks to you then, his shoulders tense. “I didn’t protect Grogu. I--I put him in danger. I just ask for passage back to Nevarro--”

“That’s what you want?” His voice is low, strained. Now you’re confused.

“Of course not!” You feel the lump rising in your throat, the hot wash of tears clouding your eyes. You swallow. “No, no, I don’t want it. But--but Mando--my job here is to protect Grogu. I didn’t do that. I--”

What he does next renders you speechless. For the many nights to come, you’ll think about it before you fall asleep.

He steps close to you and he’s in your space. Slowly, Mando uses his left hand to remove the glove on his right hand. And gently, so, so gently, he raises his right hand to your face. His thick, long fingers cradle your jaw and his thumb moves over your lip. 

You’re stunned. You cannot breathe. You are certain you are dreaming.

“You’re hurt,” he says, his thumb pressing lightly against your lip once more and it’s then you realize it’s busted. Must’ve busted it when that drunk threw me to the ground.

“Mesh’la, you’re hurt.” You don’t know what that first word means but you’re so distracted by the fact that his fingers are in your hair, cradling your jaw and you never thought this is where you would be. 

“I’m so sorry,” you say again and he makes a noise that sounds like a growl.

“Stop saying that,” he hisses. “I saw what happened. You fought him off of you. You protected Grogu. You...you cannot leave.” He sounds pained and it hits you in the chest. 

“I can’t?” you all but whisper.

He shakes his head no, and you let out a breath. He removes his hand and you see him clench it into a fist as it falls to his side. 

“Those men touched you and they touched my kid,” he growls. “They hurt you. We’re getting off this planet. We’ll found a bounty on the next one.”

You swallow. “You sure, Mando? I’m--I’m okay.”

“Din.”

You frown. Did you hear him correctly?

“What?”

He takes another step toward you, even closer, and his hand comes up to rest on your shoulder. The heat practically scorches your skin through your tunic.

“My name is Din Djarin. You call me Mando and...and I’d like you to call me Din. My name.”

Once again, you are rendered speechless. You cannot fathom how this day came to be. You cannot understand how lucky you are to have this precious gift in your hands right now. You feel yourself crack wide open, and you feel a Mandalorian take root inside of your heart.

“Din Djarin,” you try it out and it’s perfect. It’s perfect and you tell him. “It’s perfect.”

His hand is still on your shoulder you step toward him now. You swear you hear his breath hitch through the modulator, and it’s that exact noise that gives you the courage to do what you do next.

You hug him. You hug your Mandalorian. Your Din Djarin.

You slip your arms around his hard chest, the beskar plates sharp but you don’t care. You lay your cheek against his chest and you feel him stiffen for a moment and you think shit, did you just fuck this all up?

But then Mando--Din--is hugging you back. His arms are around your shoulders and one hand slips into your hair and he’s hugging you and holding you and you stand there.

You stand there in the hull of the ship and you think something has shifted between you but you’re not sure what it is yet. It hasn’t quite bloomed, it’s still fragile, but you think to yourself that Din Djarin is surprisingly good at giving hugs.

[muffindaddystyles]

Someone hurts Y/N at work; and Harry’s owner of the company.

Angry young man CEO!H very protective of his lovie :)))))))))))))

It was Tuesday. Tiring Tuesday is what Y/N calls them to be because they lurk in the middle of week and drags you after a Monday. Today, it’s the worst fucking Tuesday since the day she started working at this company.

Harry offered her. More to say tried to convince her with his sweet puppy tactics, tried to lure her in with his seductive begging and would mumble the same thing in her sweaty neck while balls deep in her, “Please sweet toots ... promise I wouldn’t be there to take ye' interview, please work in my company.” He squished her sides in desperation. Y/N whined, mind too occupied in the way he’s leaking into her, the head of his cock angled to rub at her spongy wall making her hug herself into him.

“I could be a very hard boss in my office, ‘s all ‘m saying.” He wiggled his brows at her playfully, hissing when his double joke earned him a tight fit around his prick and he was soon forgetting all of it when she canted her hips to let him slick deeper inside her.

It’s not that; Y/N doesn’t wants to work at his company. When her boyfriend asked her so sweetly and stout-heartedly. Call him a sap but he actually wants to be closer to her in every possible chance he gets – she gives him an unyielding amount of comfort and happiness when she’s with him.

There’s this silver of pride he wants to take (since he’s the biggest narcissists) in being a power couple, because in the end everything will be theirs.

But she doesn’t want to seem like she took advantage of him. She didn’t study and worked hard many years to be called dependent on her boyfriend. She wanted to find her first proper job herself – feel all the odds and jitters of her firsts after UNI.

Harry called the battles off knowing his little stubborn baby’s too much a wiggler and he believes in her and he’s very proud of her previous achievements, he just wants to see her happy working with him or not.

She indeed got it. She was finally a design editor at a grand magazine company, excited to meet her boss who’s one of her absolute favourite graphic designers in the industry.

Harry and her celebrated her baby step towards her success by going out at this cafe which had cats you can pet and love on.

He was blissed to see her this happy, considering it a win win situation. But she doesn’t need to know? Does she? And Harry didn’t do anything suspicious? Did he? Nobody even know who she's! And if Y/N wants that, he’ll have it that way.

Soon her enthusiasm deflated like a sorrowful balloon whirling in the air for seconds before falling on the ground and getting it’s existence neglected, because, her boss was the meanest bitch alive.

At the moment, Y/N forced the pertinacious lump of pathetic tears down her throat, not blinking to dry out the moisture threatening to fall from her waterline feeling humiliation creep up her skin and making her want to shrink into herself and never show her face.

She listens patiently and optimistically as her boss practically screams at her for not liking the designs Y/N worked to modify for damn 62 hours and the Karen still had an audacity to degrade, Y/N.

Y/N gasped, stumbling back in fright shock when the file that had her precious designs composed in it flew and hit Y/N, the ragged corner of it scratching Y/N’s delicate skin and her boss was spinning away from her to stare coldly at the bustling city outside through the window drowning into fumes and anger.

Y/N opened her mouth, guppy like. Wanting to say something back and call her out on her act but she felt like her voice got strangled into her chest.

ShitShitShitShit.

Hammering in her brain when she felt something warm oozing from her skin and she’s panicking, wiping a vicious streak of blood from her jaw with her trembly fingers and scuttled straight to the washroom before anyone was able to see her in such vulnerable condition.

She had enough of it and left out of there without a word to anyone, not even to her cubby mate. She bottled all the emotions that were rattling against her bones to flood out of her each pore, until she could reach her home and once she did she was having a humongous and ominously scary breakdown, glad that Harry was stuck in meetings and the house was all of hers to cry ugly.

Once she was all blue lips, puffy and swelled up cheeks and eyes, nest of a hairstyle and all burned up lungs she was calming herself down with deep breaths just Harry taught her.

Scrubbing and cleaning herself off then going to bed without waiting for Harry, something very rare and the right hit in the nail for him to know she isn’t feeling well.

He was welcomed by silence. No dinner, just leftovers in fridge and his insides became all crummy and not very pleasant when he tailed to the living room and wasn’t met by his lovebug; either cramming her head to sketch down designs with an ipad in her lap while a buzz of random Netflix show accompanies her, dossing off cutely with hundreds of her study journals and magazines messed around her on the floor, or her in sleeping pyjamas with food already set up on the coffee table and brightening the whole room with her squeals when Harry announces his presence.

None of that instead he finds her in their bedroom, drowned under layers of blankies and her stuffies with room lit dark.

He coos softly, mattress dipping down from his weight and his heart expands and melts all around his other organs at how adorable she looks sleeping in his hoodie. He chuckles shaking his head at the way she has the strings of the hoodie squeezed around her head, not sure how she’s able to breath at how tight it seems around her neck.

Doing his own routine he was slipping into the bed, sighing from the warmth and how toasty she has made the bed already.

He bunched her against his chest and kissed her head then spooned her up in his arms, lips fluttering into a smile when she hummed and sniffed basking into his scent.

“Oi sleepy.” He whispers down at her cupping her neck and giggles softly when she whines mushing her cheek against his chest only to grunt sleepily and muffle her yelps into his sweatshirt.

Harry’s brows shoots up into slight bafflement then dips down into a frown when he slipped his calloused palm under her hoodie to cradle her jaw and felt something graze against his thumb that was about to press into her soft skin to bring her for a night kiss.

“Hey...” He perches himself on elbows, switching on the lamps and ignores her groans grasping the blanket she was about to pull over herself, huffing at him to let her sleep but Harry’s more stubborn than her if it involves assuring himself she’s okay and right now she’s not and Harry was already feeling it in his bones.

“Lemme see.” He persists gently, peeling the blankets and the hoodie off her head while she’s still stirring into sleep not able to open her eyes how much she tries because of the exhaustion dumped on her from whole day.

He stares at the wound she did a shit effort to cover with a gauze messily over her jaw and tiny bit area of her neck, a long bandage reaching to her ear and Harry tries to think rationally and not freak out as he touches it with cautious fingertips.

“What ... the –- fuck, Y/N what is...is this?” His mouth falls slack. His ears buzzing for a moment and he wraps his arm around her shoulder to bring her up as he leans them against the bedhead.

He feels bad when she knuckles at her eyes warily and mumbles something that’s barely audible.

“What happened, baby? Talk t’me? How did y'hurt yourself so bad?” Worried and fearful. He bombs her with questions not waiting for her to be fully awake and his heart breaks miserly upon focusing his gaze on her face, her angelic face that’s now soaked with sadness –- she’s been crying.

His loves been crying and he wasn’t there for her.

“Who did this to you?” Y/N's eyes widens abruptly. The alertness in them vivid for Harry to see under the lamp glow and she gasps, nose twitching and lip wobbling as Harry grabbed her chin and ducked to her eyelevel to ask her tenderly with a layer of strictness under his tone, “’M asking, Who did this to you, Y/N?” Her fragile heart could already take so much and she strangled out a sob lowering her head down in embarrassment.

“’M.. I’m —-.. no –..not telli –-..telling you,” She hiccups breathlessly, shaky fingers fisting onto the blanket thrown over Harry’s lap and he holds her hands kissing them gently, “I’ll know it one way or another baby. Don’t force me to get outta my way to find —–“ His soul stabbing glare was enough for Y/N to ramble and at first he thought he didn’t heard her right, that she was mumbling too much but when the reality seeped in gradually Harry almost froze in his spot.

“I know it’s very shameful —..” Y/N stammers barely able to get in a breather and Harry’s head snapped at her words, removing his nails away from making little graves in his palms and his jaw which almost felt like breaking from the hinges from how painfully furious he had it set relaxes as he tries to calm himself down and not to grab his keys and drive to that bitch's house to trash her place.

Because how fucking dare she treat anyone like that in his own fucking company.

“Hey, hey. Now none of that toots. Look at me darling, oh my sweet moppet ... shh.” It slices his heart in pain to see Y/N like this -- so small and disheartened. How dare she hurt his such delicate, sweet, loving girl like that? How!?

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself moppet. She should be, fo’ being such a heartless prick.” He spat, his guts full of bitter and hatred. His skin hot, his grip on her tightening protectively and his chin quivers trying to lock all his anger inside and not to burst out like a pressure cooker.

“I’ll deal with her tomorrow.” He nods curtly to himself, poking his tongue to wet his grimacing lips and Y/N was too woolly to get what’s he’s saying.

His gaze flitters back on her. His demeanour turned incredibly soft and gentle for her smooching a big generous kiss to her salty lips and then to both of her cheeks cared in both of his palms, “Are y'okay? D'you want me to take you to hospital?” She shakes her head mewling and melting and caressing herself into his wrist.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asks her doing anything in his power to mask the hurt in his tone and sighs touching his forehead to her's when Y/N sniffled, “Didn’t wan’ you to worry.” He slid his forearm under her bum and scooched her atop of him, patching tiny careful pecks to her jaw.

“But, that’s love moppet. Worryin’ bout you, takin’ care of ye' and beating anyone raw who even dares to have evil intentions towards you,”

“Remember the time y'snubbed that one guy’s oh so expensive shoes who was very rude to me at one of your graduations party?” His simper turning into a proper ironic grin when she giggled hoarsely nodding along and the tension in his muscles released watching her getting better.

“Proper broke his big toe with your heel darling.” He giggles with her and then Y/N realised how sad and awful Harry’s feeling, how it’s hurting him the same way it hurt her an year ago.

“How about we have a glass of milk .... it’ll help us sleep less grumpy y'know.” He murmurs in the crook of her neck, elbow cocooned safely around her shoulder blade as he kisses the side of her head again and again nose buried in her hair to smell her treacly smell.

.

In the morning he was tragic to hear Y/N sound so heartbroken and dejected as she told him, “I’m going to resign and accept your offer.” Her smile small and sad, hugging him looping her limbs around his torso lazily.

“’kay baby, but first eat your brekkie.” He kissed her hair and squished her pout when he moved away to make some calls to his assistant.

Y/N had no-idea what he was upto. Glad that he was driving her to the company and that he was immensely supportive of her decision, her insides pooled with warmth and giddiness when he tried to cheer her up with his silly jokes and singing along the radio murmuring rubbish whenever he forgot the lyrics.

She was utterly confused when upon reaching he was giving the keys to valet boy to park his car and interviewing their fingers in a strong grip before leading her inside, even though she should be the one to do so.

She sputters a, “Huh?” when instead of telling her he’d wait for her in the lobby he’s rounding the corner towards the elevators and turns his wrist to push her infront of him to keep her closer to himself all the time.

When the doors are sliding apart the people scurrying outside halts for a moment, not looking Harry in eyes and keeping their heads low.

Phones were already rung in the building that Mr. Styles will be coming un-announced and everyone should be prepared to face the consequences if they stumble upon him – because well he isn’t in such a nice mood to start with.

“Harry.” She pokes him in ribs feebly, stepping away from him feeling timid due to few pair of eyes in elevator watching her awkwardly and maybe judgingly.

The tension in space could be cut through knife, as if everyone’s holding their breaths and she pouts taking a good look at Harry who’s smirking smugly confident in his element.

Do they all think her boyfriend’s way too intimidating and out of reach for them? They should know he’s such a sweetie!

Y/N huffs. Folding her arms over chest when Harry paws at her hips and pulls her back against his chest resting his chin atop of her head with a shit eating grin.

In all seriousness. Showing them that’s she’s his's and belongs under his wings, which will keep her safe and protected till his death.

“How did you know my boss's office’s on tenth floor?” She squints up at him suspiciously.

“Hmm. Dunno, moppet. Magical powers or summat?” He teases her, putting a hand at the small of her back to nudge her forward making her blush pink and ducks down to whisper in her ear, “You got this toots.” Biting her earlobe playfully to stroke down her anxiety upon sensing her hesitancy to step in the hallway that has cubicles lined up.

He already got this. He ordered his assistant to get the resign letter ready and showing her who’s the boss here’s not much of hurdle for him.

It’s weird. Bloody weird. Y/N wants to turn back and run away because the moment they step inside the whole damn hallway falls eerily pin drop silent and everyone’s peeking up from the short walls of their cubicles and then diverting their eyes immediately in embarrassment and apology seeing Harry behind her.

The ones who’re standing bows their heads lightly in respect for him and scurrying away to give him a way and that’s insanely surprising and weird.

Harry on the other hand was no stranger to those bogey looks. Of curiosity, uneasiness and dread when he passes through the crowd of his employs. Y/N is.

Slowly perhaps. It starts to sink in— jumbled and disoriented when she looks back at Harry. He’s keeping his head held high and shoulders tilted back with poise and conceitedness, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants and because though it makes him look like a proper snob— he is their boss and the owner of this company, he should act like one.

“Mr. Styles.” Y/N’s boss assistant Marina who’s usually very chirpy (and undeserving of all the yelling she gets from her boss) turns pale at Harry’s presence. She’s the only person Y/N's very keen of, now she’s fretting towards them with her head lowered and tries to stammer something but Harry’s walking past her with his lips pursued as he goes inside without knocking.

“Harry...” Y/N tattles behind him, lunging to clutch onto the hem of his suits coat, to scold him to stop babying her and let her handle it herself, too late since she’s already meeting with the sight of her overly stressed and upset boss.

Her knees almost gives in when Harry snaps his fingers for the employees that were inside to give them privacy and takes in the most relaxing breath of oxygen, feeling a gag of bitterness in his mouth from even looking at her.

Y/N gasped. Her boss (which she’s not sure is her boss anymore) gasped. The sweet assistant Marina gasped. When Harry told her in the most composing way– though his blood’s boiling absolutely sheathing through his veins.

“You’re fired.” His demeanour cold and voice monotone not giving a fuck how much she shakes and cries for his forgiveness.

“Mr. Styles. I..I can explain–-" She stammers rushing from the back of her desk and stops obediently when Harry gestures her to not to take another step forward.

“There’s no excuse for abuse. I don’t want your lame explanations, I can’t have an abusive asshole running my company for me ... we might be strict on our employees but we aren’t monsters.” He grits, his eyes flaring piercingly with rage and showing no empathy towards her as she pleads him to forgive her mistake– those bricks of money makes you work baby.

“You hurt someone so dearly to me ‘n think I’ll forgive ye'?” The assistance eye’s blows away at newfound information, Harry Styles love of life’s none other than Y/N. The girl she used to have smoked sandwiches and milkshakes with in their lunch breaks.

“I didn’t know ...” He chuckles ironically at her hypocrisy and that’s the last straw for him before he’s threatening her to call the security and she’s getting out of there cursing him under her breath but Harry grabs her from elbow roughly, conceding his brow at her dauntingly.

"Apologise to her right fuckin' now."

"Sorry, Mrs Styles. I'm very ashamed of what I did." She says nervously and Y/N nods not able to speak from the butterflies that are flapping around her stomach, which sure didn't go unnoticed at Harry's side and he smirks at Y/N.

When they’re left alone. Jovial cackles are bouncing against the walls and he’s pressing his hip to the desk, securing his hands around his triceps as he folds his arms infront of his chest entertaining himself to the cute and fuzzy reactions of his girl at what just happened.

“See. Told ya, nobody could defy my bossiness at work.” He grins at her, jerking his hand towards his chest to usher her closer to him and boops her nose smacking an obnoxiously loud kiss to her mouth when she toddles in his arms.

“The offers still there,” He looks down at her cheekily and she shakes her head, a small smile kicking up her lips at his determination and devotion.

“Couldn’t say no to you, could I? What will you be owning secretly next time?” She nips at him, planting her palms firmly against his midriff feeling the crispiness of his shirt underneath his jacket.

“A bakery shop ....?” He muses in the most pondering voice and she scoffs at him through pattering of giggles, “Suck it up Mr. Styles.”

“Hey! I know my prick’s huge but not tha’ much for me to suck it myself.”

Y/N chokes onto her own spit. Shaking her head at him.

“Your innocent employees knows how vulgar you’re?”

“Uhmm. Infact, She gets very hot hearin’ me like tha'.” He bobs his head grinning at her wickedly and she smacks his shoulder, “Harry!”

“Yeahhh! Tell everyone how good I make you feel babbbyy—....” Y/N clamps her hand around his mouth to muffle his lewd fake moaning.

“You’re so embarrassing.” She grumbles wiping his spit sticking to her palm down her skirt and spins around to head for the door expecting him to follow her.

“You don’t talk to boss like that!” He trails behind her, “Boss my ass!” She quips out a squeal looking around to make sure that nobody saw it when Harry slapped her bum.

“Boss someone’s ‘bout to get a pink ass.”

[cartierbin]

pairing -- dilf!minho x reader

genre -- single father dilf!minho fucking you on his coffee table

word count -- 1.4k 』

smut under the cut !

"just one more daddy! one more pleaseee!". her high pitched voice pleaded while she turned her pink lips into a tiny frown. minho shook his head no and bends to give her a light kiss on her nose. "not tonight princess. it's late, don't you want to be happy and awake when you wake up for school tomorrow?". she kicked her feet up under the blankets a little. "but daddy! I like when you read to me". whenever she pouted her lips like this she looked like a miniature version of her father. only, she had two curly pigtails and pretty silk ribbons tied around them. "and daddy loves reading to you but we got back home late today. we've been out shopping all day". she nods, kind of understanding where he was coming from because even she was a little worn out from walking around the mall. "can I still wear my new dresses to school tomorrow?". he proceeds to turn on her night light, letting the glowing pink clouds cover her ceiling. "you can wear anything you want". she smiles at that answer, roping her tiny arms around his neck. "I love you daddy. Night night!".

"goodnight madison. I love you too. give daddy kisses". she giggled watching him pucker his lips, she thought he looked ridiculous. she mushes her tiny lips on his before lying back down, cuddling with her unicorn stuffy. Hearing the bed routine from the kitchen even made you smile a little. Minho was so adorable to her and his love for being a father is what attracted you in the first place. Especially when he was the complete opposite whenever your clothes were off.

With both of his arms perched on the top of the couch, minho draws his head back, eyes half lidded and staring at the ceiling with a long groan tugging at his lips. his heavy breaths were unstable while you were between his legs sucking him off like it was the only thing you knew how to do. you and minho have been playing this game for a while. after a mind blowing one night stand it was mutual pining between the both of you. some days minho acted like he wanted a relationship and other days he just wanted to fill you. you never knew if you'd actually be his girlfriend or if you were just a fling to him but nothing compared to the way he fucked you.

The messy sounds of your mouth and muffled needy noises was enough to make his pupils dilate in bliss. "fuck". he murmurs in a tone much harsher than the one he uses with his daughter. He threads his veiny hands between the strands of your hair and fists it. He always gripped it until you were whining from the tightness of his grasp. He didn't give a damn he loved watching you cry. he thought you deserved it for how lazy you were. "wrap your tongue around it and suck me like you've got some fucking sense". his tone felt like a blade. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were hooded and darkened while he watched you struggle to follow his orders. you use your tongue this time around trying to please him in a way he liked. You didn't get much of a reaction until you decided to slide it between the slit.

his hips jerked up in your mouth at the sudden feeling. his head fell back again and he began slowly thrusting himself between your wet swollen lips. "relax your throat". He released a heap of satisfied breaths when you lazed your mouth completely, letting him use you just the way he wanted. the vibrations of your moans encased his throbbing erection and everything felt so sloppy. your saliva was dribbling down your chin and his precum was coating your lips like gloss. The better it felt to him, the rougher he fisted your hair. "It hurts don't it?". with tears rimming your eyes you nodded as best as you could, feeling his voice send a tremor straight down to your creaming folds. "yet your pussy is probably soaking wet from this isn't it?". he smirked at your helpless face in a mixture pleasure and pain, he curled his tongue along his lips content with the way he was making you feel. He loved humiliating you. you nod your head yes with a flutter of throbs making your knees buckle beneath you.

he mushed your face against the coffee table while he fucked into you mercilessly. He held little regard for how much your knees was burning while they rubbed against the carpet or how much he was bruising your skin from slapping it. That was just like minho, he fucked you like he didn't give a damn about you and no matter how much it hurt it turned you on. "fucking hell", his groans were just as hot as the squeaking sounds of the table, bolts loosening with each thrust. His dick was thick and throbbing while he was ramming it into the places that made your state of mind diminish. you whimpered and moaned in choked up breaths begging for him to slow down all while knowing you didn't want him to. he crimped a finger into your mouth for you to suck on while your skin brutally slapped together. "don't you fucking wake my daughter". with his body draped over yours like this he decided to rail you a little harder and more abrupt, jolting your body upwards while you hiccuped in his grasp. your eyes dry sobbed at the way he was now spearing you with his dick, which felt way too good for him to be trying to silence anything.

The table was still barely holding on at this pace, the gushy sounds each time he entered you had his sweaty chest rising and falling deeply. He loved seeing you splayed out like this. Your plump ass and bare thighs exposed was like a blank canvas for an artist. "you must think you're funny clenching around my dick like that huh?". he gives a breathless chuckle. your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pins your waist to the edge of the table now, hawk spitting on your ass before digging his fingernails into the skin of it. He rocks his dick into you ruthlessly and you could already feel the burn wounds forming at your knees. your legs trembled for strength and your brain scrambled for a peace of mind. "it feels", you took a short pause just to release your shaky breaths, "it feels so fucking good". he tilts his head back with a curse word sputtering into the air above him. he was in absolute heaven buried balls deep inside you from this angle. "so fucking tight-- your pussy is so fucking tight baby". minho's groans alone could make you cum. his voice was always dark and gruff whenever you two were fucking. you held the top edge of the table with your shaking body in prime pre orgasm. suspended above you he sinks his teeth into the skin of your neck while his hand clawed at the back of your thighs. your meek needy moans resounded deliciously off the living room walls.

"that's it. be a good girl and cream all over it". with your eyes widened and your mouth now agape you clenched around him once more until a steady flow of your juices was sliding down your thighs. you spasmed while he milked you of everything you had, fucking you into overstimulation. Seeing his dick now glistening every time it parted your sopping folds was a weakness of his which made him cum twofold. He made a complete mess of you splattering it all over your ass and thighs.

He takes two of his fingers and slides them inside of you just to suck them right after. your pussy throbbed a little just watching him genuinely enjoy the taste of you. It gave you a bit of reassurance after he fucked you to wit's end. "do I taste good enough for you?". you teased with your chest still heaving. he leaned over and sloppily tongue kissed you. you could tell he planned on coming back up but instead he didn't. He let his tongue wander your mouth for a little longer while you kissed back and you'll admit his kisses were just as hypnotizing as his sex. His fingers traveled down to your clit and he began rubbing the now slippery organ softly, you could feel the familiar fire smoldering at the pit of your stomach once again.

He couldn't get enough of you and he knew it.

[little-spoiled-brat]

Congratulations for 100 followers! I love your writing 🥺

Can I please request prompt 16 from sfw and 21 from nsfw for Levi? 👉🏻👈🏻

WRITING PROMPT # 17:

"look at you, desperate little whore"

pairing: levi x reader - nsfw, minors dni

cw: a pissed off levi, slight bondage, impact play, teasing, degradation, dacryphilia, orgasm denial

- beg for it -

you absolutely love to pull on levi's strings, see how much he can take before he snaps and loses his patience with you. you were being such a brat today, talking back at him and not obeying his orders like usual. it was intentional, you just wanted to mess with him today but you were starting to think that you went too far.

"l/n, my office. now" levi said, his voice was deeper than usual. he didn't even bother waiting for you to follow him as he turned around and started heading to his office. you swallowed the lump in your throat, hearing your boyfriend call you by your last name told you loud and clear that he was done with your bratty attitude.

"levi-" you started, walking in his office but you were pinned to the wall by your neck. a gasp leaving your throat, levi's hot breath was slightly fanning your face.

"i'm so fucking done with your attitude, brat" levi growled, using one hand to skillfully remove his belt. you tried to grab his wrists but before you can even get the chance to, your wrists were pinned above your head in his iron-like grip.

"talking back at your superior and disobeying their orders" levi spat, his hand colliding with your cheek as a slight moan escaped your lips. levi yanked open your uniform shirt, a surprised gasp leaving your lips as he ripped the piece of clothing off your body before discarding it on the floor of his office. "everything else, off. give me your panties after"

you knew better than to disobey him especially when you had successfully pushed all of his buttons and he could no longer tolerate you. with a nervous gulp, you took off every piece of clothing that you have, giving your panties to him as he shoved it in his pocket and you stood naked in front of the stoic captain.

"levi, i-" you started but you were met with another slap to the face and his hand harshly gripping your jaw.

"i don't want to hear your pathetic excuses for your attitude, y/n" levi said, his grip on your jaw tightening a bit and you whimpered.

"on the bed. now" levi said, looking you straight in the eyes and making sure that you got the message loud and clear. you nodded, slipping past him to cross the office to get to your shared bedroom. levi followed you with his eyes and you cowered at the feeling of his gaze burning through your back.

you sat down on the edge of the bed, levi following you afterwards. he suddenly yanked you down to his lap, tying his belt around your wrist on the small of your back.

"levi, wait i'm s-" you were harshly cut off by his hand colliding with your ass, a whimper escaping your lips. he was really done with you now.

"count" levi ordered, yanking you by the chin to meet his eyes. your breathing got caught in your throat, seeing the lust in his grey-blue orbs. "o-one"

his hand collided with your ass once again, stinging pain spreading throughout the area he just hit. you closed your eyes and gritted your teeth. "two"

levi continued to spank you, three, four, ten, fifteen times until your ass turned to a pretty shade of red as you desperately tried to reach back and stop him.

"levi, please" you whimpered, tears welling in your eyes. he chuckled, rubbing his hand on the red skin of your ass to soothe the pain.

"aww, does it hurt?" levi cooed, running his hand through your hair. you looked up at him with teary eyes and nodding your head. he spanked you once again in reply.

"good" levi said, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you upwards. you didn't even had any time to react when you were suddenly thrown on the bed, hands still tied behind the small of your back and levi straddling your hips.

"levi-" you started, levi has punished you a lot of times before but he has never punished you when he was this fed up with you - and it made you nervous, really nervous. he pulled out your panties out of his pocket, shoving them down your throat as a muffled moan left you.

"tch. you're so fucking talkative" levi complained, his hands unbuttoning his uniform shirt and started eliminating his clothes, discarding them to the floor.

you watched him strip in front of you, his perfectly sculpted body was revealing itself to you one by one. the heat pooling around your core was getting too much to ignore, you could feel yourself getting wetter by just looking at him.

you moaned, trying to rub your thighs together to get rid of the unbearable feeling in between them. levi noticed as he got off of you and spread your legs apart. his mouth was attached to your sensitive clit within seconds.

your back arched, hands desperately gripping onto the sheets underneath you, muffled moans leaving your throat. your chest heaved up an down, your body filling with pleasure that was too much for you to handle.

"you're so wet" levi said and inserted two fingers inside of you, keeping eye contact as he used your arousal to slowly push his digits in. your face contorting into pleasure was a sight he never want to forget.

you whimpered, looking down at him while he pumped his fingers in and out of you and sucked on your clit harshly. it didn't even take you a minute until the knot in your stomach started to build up, quickly unravelling as fast as it built up.

your thighs unconsciously closed around levi's head as he growled into your pussy, curling his fingers inside of you to hit that spongy spot that had your brain melting as he yanked your legs apart again.

"levi, i'm gonna-" your muffled pleads reached his ear, pumping his fingers faster to help you chase your orgasm. the knot slowly started to break, thighs shaking from pleasure and eyes shut tightly.

before you could fall apart, levi stopped. your eyes snapped open at the denial of your release. you whined, wrapping your legs around levi to get him to make you cum.

"please" you begged, staring at him with pleading eyes and all you got in return was his cold and expressionless stare.

"i don't think you deserve to cum tonight. you really pushed me to my limits and you need to be taught a lesson" levi said, his hand fisting around his cock and teasing it on your clit. you whimpered at his words, bucking your hips to get some kind of relief from him.

”please” you repeated, eyes misty as you looked up at him. levi leaned down, his lips centimeters away from yours as he reached up and took out the panties that he shoved in there earlier.

“you’re not convincing me, brat” levi said, kissing the side of your lips and you whined. you can’t even get a proper kiss from him.

“levi, please. i’m not going to be a brat anymore just please fuck me” you begged, leaning up in attempt to connect your lips together but he pulled away.

“i still don’t think you deserve to cum” levi said, suddenly shoving his entire length in you and thrusted hard and fast with no warning. your hands fisted the sheets underneath you tighter, back arching from the pleasure of getting split open by levi’s girth.

“this is what you wanted, right? acting like such a fucking brat the entire day just to get fucked like the whore you are“ levi said, slapping your cheek and you moaned loudly in return.

his hands found the headboard above you, using it for leverage as he pounds your pussy mercilessly. it has you gasping for air, your boobs bouncing with every thrust of levi’s hips against yours.

“tell me, brat. do you think you deserve to cum?” levi asked looking down at you. you stared up at him, trying to process his words but unable to form any coherent thoughts.

”tch” levi growled, teeth gritting as he held onto the headboard tighter. so tight that you swore you heard the wood cracking from the pressure.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head when levi shifted his angle to hammer that same spongy spot inside of you, making your brain turn into mush even more.

“too fucked dumb to even answer” levi teased, empty eyes looking up at him as the strings of moans continously left your lips.

“l-levi” you moaned, feeling the knot building up once again.

“do you want to cum?” levi asked, looking you in the eyes to make it harder for you to think properly.

“y-yes”

”beg”

you whined at his words, eyes closing shut from trying not to cum without his permission.

“fuck, please. please let me cum. please, i’ll be a good girl for you just please let me cum” you begged, a tear falling down your cheek from how painful it was to fight your orgasm.

levi groaned at your words, pounding into you harder and faster than what you thought possible. you were practically crying, begging him to let you cum as it was starting to become overwhelming.

“levi! fuck, please, please, please” you moaned, head thrown back against the pillow as the knot in your stomach was starting to break.

you were about to reach your high when levi suddenly pulled out completely, ruining your orgasm. the pleasure was gone in an instant, broken whimpers leaving your lips from being denied once again.

”levi please, i’m begging you. please let me cum” you whined, tears stained your cheeks as you looked up at your boyfriend pleadingly. it was painful — so painful to be denied of your pleasure.

“captain, please”

levi’s cock twitched at the sound of you calling him by his title, it was rare for you to do that and walls, did it sound so sinful coming from your mouth.

without a second thought, levi shoved himself inside of you again. more lustful moans leaving your lips, it was a sound levi would want to hear at every second of his life.

the knot in your lower stomach built up again, chest heaving up and down in a rapid pace as levi abused your needy cunt more.

“levi. levi, please. please, i want to cum. don’t ruin my orgasm again, please, i’m begging you” you pleaded desperately, legs shaking uncontrollably and tears falling down your cheeks. levi chuckled, wiping away the tears on your face and running his thumb across your bottom lip.

“look at you, desperate little whore. cum for me, don’t hold back” levi commanded, strings of sinful moans of his name leaving your lips afterwards as you fell apart.

levi came to the sight of you, lips parted, back arched, eyes closed tightly. you were stunning.

you milked him dry, his warm seed spilling into you and painting your velvet walls a pretty white. levi slowed down, letting the both of you come down from your highs.

he rested his forehead against yours, catching his breath and placing sloppy kisses along your cheeks and lips. he pulled out after a while, the white substance flowing out of your abused hole.

levi chuckled smugly, grabbing a clean cloth to clean the both of you before reaching behind you to undo the belt that was around your wrists. you pulled him down once your hands were free, connecting your lips together in a passionate kiss.

“thank you” you said, burying your face into his neck. levi kissed your temple, laying down next to you.

“tch. brat” levi grumbled, holding you against his chest as you smiled tiredly and cuddled more into him.

“i should act like that more often”

”try and i definitely won’t let you cum the next time”

[donutloverxo]

How big do you think Steve is....? 👀☕

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

I've got like a lot of feelings and thots about this but I'll just summarize them with this... smut, Steve has bde and a big🍆🍆, cumplay, this is like really filthy.

"Yes... um, Captain," Stacey bit her lip, she couldn't help herself. She knew she shouldn't be checking out her friends man but she was sure you'd forgive her. This was Captain freaking America. It would be an injustice to not appreciate his beauty. "What brings you to our little corner today?"

"Um... I'm here to see L/N," blushing a deep shade of pink and rubbing the back of his neck. The bouquet of lillies in his hand, and one of chocolates in another only making him stand out more so.

Stacy chuckled at his misery. "You call her by her last name? Hm... I actually think she'd like it better if it was the other way around."

Steve quirked a brow because he didn't understand what she meant by that. Smiling when he saw you return to your seat. "What're you doing here?" with a sweet smile on your face. Leaning up on your tippy toes to give him a small peck on his lips. "It's a nice surprise."

"Just wanted to give you these," he said as he handed the flowers and the chocolates over to you, "And to ask you to maybe have dinner at my place tonight?"

You giggled as you opened the lid of the box, mouth watering at the variety of sweets to select from, "Stevie, we're in a relationship now. You don't have to ask me out every single time." As you plopped a mint one in your mouth.

"It still feels nice to," He said before kissing you goodbye to return to his floor.

You offered some of your chocolates to Stacey, who seemed to be giving you the side eye for some reason.

"Is it true?" She asked.

"Is what true?"

"Does he have a fifteen inch long cock?"

Which made you choke on the coconut that was in your third chocolate. "What the hell?!"

"You gotta tell me. I promise I'll cover any of your shifts for you while you go on getaways with him to like Europe or something. I'll do your boring paper work. Alright, I understand you wanna keep his privacy," she nodded, bringing her hands together, "Just say when," She said as her palms started drifting apart.

"Stop that!" you swatted at her palms. "I don't know how big he is. We're taking it slow." You huffed. Going slow was his idea. He was old school in that way. You had no idea how you had resisted from climbing him like a tree for so many months.

"Listen, girl, it's just that he has major BDE. When he gives those speeches, and those clips of him fighting bad guys, you just know he has a big dick."

You did believe he had big dick energy as well. At a low moment you told him your supervisor was being an ass to you, even calling you a slut once for dating Captain America. You didn't want to burden him with your problems, which seemed to insignificant in front of his, and you didn't want him to do anything brash.

The very next day he paid your boss a visit. He didn't flaunt the fact that he was Captain America or a very powerful man. He didn't need to. He naturally had a very commanding presence. He just gave a long lecture to your boss on how to respect women, after which they never bothered you again.

You'd never admit this to Steve but you literally wanted to jump his bones them. He looked so fucking hot defending your honor like that. He was your knight in shining armor and you'd let him to anything to you.

Not to mention, you could see the outline of his probably long and thick dick in his jogging pants. That one unfortunate morning you agreed to go running with him. The only good thing that came out of it was that you got to oggle his ass and his dick.

You could feel his hands squeezing your breasts over your dress, you broke the kiss to take a look at him. Glassy eyes and cheeks flushed red, his chest heaving because you took his breath away.

"I wanna go all the way, Stevie." You demanded. "I've waited long enough for you."

"You know I could never say no to you, doll. I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Which he most definitely did. He must've spent like an hour between your legs, using his mouth and his fingers, worshipping evey inch of your body. You felt him rutting against the mattress but chose not to say anything.

"Wait, stop..." you pushed his head away, your pussy too sensitive after the third orgasm to be touch again as he pouted up at you. You sat up on your butt, "I wanna suck your cock," you said, making grabby hands for it.

"Um... you sure, doll? You don't have to," he was too shy to be naked in front of you. He still had his pants and underwear on. You were going to insist that he take it all off but you could barely handle a shirtless Steve, a completely naked one would probably turn your brain to mush.

"Yes I want it! Do you not want me?" your voice quivering just a little. You knew he wanted you, of course he did. But why can't he be vulnerable with you like you are with him?

"No no," he cupped your face, kissing your forehead, "Of course I want you. I want you more than anything else in the world. It's just that... I'm big. Before the serum it was pretty average and now... women get surprised a little."

"How big?" you sniffled.

"I guess you'll see," he said, pulling his briefs and his pants down at the same time.

You let out a loud gasp when you saw it. A literal monster cock. "Oh my god...." you breathed out, "I don't think that's gonna fit in me, Stevie.."

It was the biggest you've ever seen. Pink, long and thick, you could even make out a few veins on it, standing tall and proud against his hard abs, some blonde hair at the base of it. Pearly pre ejaculate oozing out of him, which made you salivate.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about that, angel," he stroked your hair, "That's for me to figure out. You just have to sit there and make good on your promise. Now come on, open up," he tapped his tip on your lips and you opened as wide as you could.

He wasn't even halfway in when he hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him. He softly fucked into your mouth, which some sucking and help from you. Holding onto your head lovingly as he spoke about how good you made him feel.

"You gonna swallow it for me?" he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

'I wouldn't let a drop escape.' You wanted to say but it came out all jumbled since your mouth was stuffed full.

Finally you felt ropes of his spend hit the back of your throat. You were naive to think you'd swallow it all. You could barely get half of it no matter how hard you tried, most of it spilled out of your mouth and onto your chest.

He finally pulled out, looking at his girl so proudly, so eager to please him.

"I'm sorry," you said, as you tried to gather as much of his cummies off your body as you could. It tasted salty, the aftertaste being just a little bit sweet. You wondered if that was because of the serum too. "I promise I'll get it all next time. I'll be more prepared."

"'is not your fault, doll. There's... a lot of it."

"I like that though," you whined up at him as you licked your fingers, "I like it. It means you love me so much you made like tons of goodies for me."

He chuckled at that, pecking your lips, "I do love you a lot."

He made you lie back to make sure you were comfortable, wrapping your legs around his hips, "You tell me if it hurts okay, baby?" he asked to which you gave him a meek nod.

Bracing yourself for the pain. Despite how wet and ready and relaxed you were, it still hurt initially. But you asked him to keep going because you wanted to make him feel good and take all of him.

After a few moments you asked him to move.

"Your dick is so beautiful, Stevie." You beamed up at him.

"Not as beautiful as you, doll." He groaned as he pulled his hips back before rutting back into you.

"Nooo," you whined. This man needed to learn how to take a compliment! "No, your dick is so pretty. It's yours, and I'm in love with it."

"I'll promise you one thing, honey. You'll be the only one who gets to see it again from now on. It's for your eyes only now."

"Forever?" you pouted.

"Yes, forever."

You looked down at where both your sexes were joined together, "Looks like we'll be seeing a lot of each other from now on, Captain," you said as you clenched around him, making him bite the crook of your neck.

"Did you just give my dick a petname?"

"Yes, do you like it?" you asked, hopefully.

Steve would rather have you call him Captain. But you seemed so excited, "Yes, of course. You can call it whatever you like, baby."

He was trying to pull out of you to come, of course you wouldn't have that so you pulled him closer to you by wrapping your legs around him.

"I'm good..." you rasped, "got an implant and everything." Which would protect you from having any super soldier babies. "Please come in me."

"How can I say no that," his thrusts became a little more rushed and erratic. You could feel his warm cum fill you up and then ooze out of you as he pulled out.

He tched as he looked at your swollen pussy, "That won't do..." he said as he tried to push his cum inside of you but it was too much for your small cute pussy.

"I've got plugs at my home we can use to keep it in..." you moaned, extra sensitive to his touch then. "Can I have some more of it, please?"

You asked as he scoped your combined juices up with his fingers before feeding it to you.

"Just for now, doll. Next time we'll try that plug idea of yours," he said as he made sure you thoroughly sucked his fingers clean.